#this is longer than i wanted but i listed my teams so yeah | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherrrydragon · 3 months

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➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER SIX: MAKE OUT FAKE OUT

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SUMMARY ↳ An unlikely ally appears! “I know you’re Spinnerette.” . . . What. The. Fuck. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: (the non-existent) threat of blackmail wc: 4.4k

Victoria’s been acting weird. You suppose it’s normal given the events from last week. Since then, multiple articles have come forth speaking of Robin and Spinnerette saving the day. The people of Gotham seem to be taking to their new arachnid friend well.

But back to Victoria—she struggles to maintain eye contact with you for more than a few seconds. It doesn’t stop her from being a stern teacher though, so you guess nothing other than that has changed. Whatever, you have better things to worry about.

Progress has been… progressing with the badassium. You’ve begun assembling the makeshift particle accelerator, but Karen estimates that you’ve only built three percent. And it took you that long. Have mercy.

You’re currently in the Den, looking over your creation.. The walls are lined with various tools and blueprints, and the centerpiece is the skeleton of the particle accelerator. You sigh, wiping sweat off your brow. This is going to take longer than you thought.

Karen’s voice chirps in your ear. “Perhaps taking a break would help clear your mind, [Name].”

You glance at the clock. It’s already past midnight. Maybe she’s right. “Yeah, I guess so.. Let’s call it a night.”

Robin meets you on the rooftop you’ve perched yourself on. He crouches next you, watching the streets below. Robin’s eyes follow the movement below with a practiced vigilance, his dark cape fluttering slightly in the breeze. The city's nightscape is a blend of lights and shadows, with the occasional sound of sirens breaking the relative silence. He glances at you, his expression giving nothing away.

“Long day?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“You ask, why?”

You groan, stretching out your stiff muscles. Robin tracks the movement. “Surely you wouldn’t come hang out with me just because you felt like it. I doubt one night of ass-kickin’ makes us friends.”

“This is not ‘hanging out’,” he grumbles, making you nod your hand in a ‘you’re proving my point’ fashion. “I am simply taking a short recess, you happen to be in my resting spot.”

“Yeah, uhuh.” You don’t believe him for a second, but you can’t bring yourself to really care.

“Batman wants you on the team.”

You damn near fall off the rooftop. “What.”

“Perhaps you are older than I thought, if your hearing isn’t on par,” he smirks.

“First of all, my hearing is way better than yours, fuck you,” you quip, quickly righting yourself. “Second of all…” you hesitate, “can we take a raincheck on that?”

Robin looks at you. “I… am busy right now. And do not have time for a team… yeah. Also, I just prefer to be alone.” The words come out choppy, as if you’re coming up with them on the fly (you are). That last part is a straight lie, you love your Avengers.

You know Robin obviously is skeptical, but he says nothing. “Why does Batman want me, anyway?”

Robin shifts slightly, his expression unreadable behind the mask. “You share the same goals we do. It only makes sense to join forces.”

Robin's words hang in the air, punctuated by the distant sounds of the city below. You shift uncomfortably, trying to process the unexpected offer. Joining Batman's team? The idea both excites and intimidates you. You've always admired the vigilantes of Gotham from afar, but becoming a part of that world was another matter entirely.

You don’t belong here. It was different when you were asked to officially join the Avengers, but fictional comic characters turned real? Your mind wants to melt. You don’t want to drag them into your mess.

“I really do appreciate the offer, but…” you sigh, and lean back. “...not right now.” And probably never. You clear your throat and stand up, Robin following. “Well, it’s been awkward. See you!” you rush out, quickly swinging away. Robin eyes you until you swing out of sight, thinking.

“They denied.”

Bruce sips his tea, humming. “Did they say why?”

Damian comes to sit next to his father. “Their reasoning was that they were ‘too busy for a team’ and preferred to be alone. It was very obvious they were hiding something, father.”

Bruce sighs, putting down his cup. “We’ll keep trying to convince them, slowly,” Bruce adds as he sees Damian moving to get up. “Stay cautious, but also stay amiable, Damian.”

Damian scoffs. “I am amiable.”

Bruce chuckles as Damian leaves.

Ms. Varley announces a project at the end of class the next morning.. The class groans loudly, of course. “It should be fun for you young folks,” she emphasizes, like it disgusts her. “It is a partner project,” the class lights up for a second, “with your tablemate.” You swear you see a glint of satisfaction in her eye as the class slumps. You and Damian look at eachother. “Together you will explore unconventional perspectives on any known superhero or vigilante of your choosing.”

The projector shows a powerpoint labeled “Hot Takes”. A few snorts are heard. “I want you to to challenge yourselves boldly,” Ms. Varley states, walking around to pass out the rubric. “You’ll select a figure that intrigues you and craft a thesis that challenges the traditional view. Support it with thorough research and present your findings in a persuasive manner."

“It’s not about being right or wrong, it’s about being able to defend your point.” Ms. Varley takes her place in front of the classroom. “This is your final project. From now until winter break, we will be spending our Fridays working on it. Only Fridays, so I suggest working on it with your partner outside of school.”

She sits down in her chair, signaling that she’s done talking for today. Buzz fills the classroom immediately, peers chattering and making plans. You scoot your chair closer to Damian. “I know what I want to do,” you declare.

“As do I,” says Damian, facing you.

“My take is better,” you challenge, crossing your arms.

Damian scoffs. “I sincerely doubt you are capable of coming up with something adequate to the challenge.”

“Don’t be a hater Damian, it makes you look jealous,” you tease.. The bell rings, filling the class with sounds of hustle and bustle as students pack up. “Oh! Before you go,” you say, grabbing Damian’s wrist. You hold out your phone. “Number?”

Damian looks at your phone in confusion. You huff. “Your phone number, Dames. So we can contact each other and plan our project?” you clarify in a ‘duh’ tone.

You watch as he stares for a moment, before taking your phone and putting in his contact info. “You will come home to the manor with me,” he declares.

You blink. “Huh?”

“We will start working on it today,” he elaborates, handing you back your phone. You fumble with it for a second before shoving it in your pocket. “The faster we get it done the better.”

“Um, ok. Yeah, makes sense,” you gulp.

This time you’re the one distracted in ballet. Victoria huffs and snaps at you multiple times, so you figure she must be back to normal. Art class proceeds as norma, Ms. M making you practice your color theory. You hold back on designing new iterations of your suit, something you did a lot of back home out of sheer boredom.

Damian guides you out of the school with a hand on your back, like he did at homecoming. You wonder what exactly he is doing, since you know he feels the eyes and points at the two of you from other students. You sigh, hopefully nobody bothers you about it.

Alfred greets you at the gates, this time you make sure to actually get his name officially. Damian gets in the car first, pulling you in by the hand. Your shoulder bumps into his as you land with an ‘oof’. The ride to the manor is silent, leaving you twiddling with your thumbs. Thankfully, the ride isn’t too long.

The manor looks imposing, standing here looking at it. It’s different from seeing it from WEBBERs point of view or from an inked page. Damian grabs your arm, snapping you out of your daydreaming. He leads you through the grand halls of the mansion, his steps confident and purposeful. The interior is as opulent as you imagined, with rich furnishings and tasteful decor that speak of wealth and history.

"Your family's home is... impressive," you remark, trying to break the silence as you’re dragged along.

Damian nods curtly, saying nothing. You sense there's more to his demeanor than just his usual aloofness.

He leads you to a spacious study lined with shelves of books and a large, fancy desk at its center. Papers are neatly organized, and a computer hums softly in one corner. Damian gestures for you to take a seat. You do, placing your bag down beside your chair. Damian sits next to you.

You take out your laptop and open a new powerpoint. “My idea was that we do it on Batman,” you state, turning to Damian. “I think Batman is part of a cycle of violence. I think that he does help and protect people, but he also enables a lot of the behavior from criminals.” You stand up and begin to pace the room.

“He inadvertently contributes to a culture that normalizes violence as a means to solve problems. I mean, all of his criminals eventually break out of arkham. Scarecrow literally attacked our school a while ago! Criminals respond to Batman’s intervention with heightened aggression and increasingly dangerous tactics, which results in a cycle where each side justifies escalating their actions in response to perceived threats.”

You pause, stopping your pacing. Damian is staring at you. You cough. “That’s all to say, violence begets violence, hurt people hurt people, yadda yadda,” you grin sheepishly.

Damian nods intently. He leans back in his chair, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the armrest. After a moment of silence, he speaks, his voice calm yet decisive.

"Your perspective is not entirely without merit," Damian begins, his tone measured. "Batman's methods have indeed perpetuated a cycle of violence in Gotham. His reliance on fear tactics and physical force against criminals often leads to heightened retaliation and more extreme measures from his adversaries."

He shifts in his seat, eyes narrowing slightly. "However," Damian continues, "one must consider the broader context. Gotham City is a cesspool of corruption and crime, where conventional methods of law enforcement have repeatedly failed. Batman's presence, while controversial, fills a void where the justice system falls short."

Damian stands up abruptly, pacing the room with a controlled energy. "His actions, while extreme, have prevented countless tragedies and protected innocent lives. The criminals he faces are not ordinary. They are deranged, relentless, and would wreak havoc unchecked if not for his intervention."

He stops in front of the window, gazing out at the expansive grounds of Wayne Manor. "Batman's commitment to justice is unwavering. He sacrifices his own safety and personal life to ensure that Gotham's citizens have a fighting chance against the darkness that plagues our city."

Damian turns back to you, his demeanor earnest. "Our challenge will be to present a balanced argument," he concludes, returning to his seat. "Acknowledging the complexities of Batman's methods while critiquing their consequences. We must delve deep into both sides of the debate to craft a compelling thesis."

You nod, absorbing Damian's perspective. You’re impressed, but yeesh. He could’ve been more subtle, in your humble opinion.

“I’m impressed,” comes a voice from the doorway. You and Damian turn around to see–

Bruce Wayne. You sigh deeply inside your mind.

“Father,” says Damian, looking a bit lost. “How long…?”

“Since your friend started speaking. I apologize, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I only meant to introduce myself when I heard your compelling argument, I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says, looking awfully apologetic. Of course, Batman himself heard all that.

He turns to you and sticks out his hand. “Bruce Wayne, Damian’s father.” You shake his hand humming in affirmation.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” you smile. Alfred comes in with some snacks and refreshments, placing them down on the table. You and Damian thank him, seemingly on autopilot. Bruce smiles at Damian.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he says, and then he’s out the door.

You rub your palms on your pants. “Welp,” you hum, sitting back down and pouring yourself a cup of tea. “I think he likes me.” You pour a cup for Damian and pass it to him. He sits back down as well, accepting the cup.

“I think he does, as well,” mutters Damian, sipping his tea.

The rest of the evening is spent refining your argument and laying out the skeleton on your powerpoint. Despite Damian's initial reservation about your abilities, you find that you complement each other well in terms of ideas and research methods. You check the time, it’s a little past nine.

“I should get going, I don’t wanna leave Nari alone for too long,” you say, beginning to gather your belongings. Damian raises a brow. “My cat,” you clarify.

Damian's eyes brighten very subtly. You know what he’s thinking, so you show him the picture you took of Jon holding Nari. “He’s cute, right?”

Damian analyzes your picture like it’s an art. He nods in approval. “You shall have to bring him over to meet Alfred.”

“The.. butler?” you question, as if you don’t know better.

“The cat.”

Damian walks you out of the manor where you find Bruce. His eyes spot you two approaching and nods in acknowledgement. “Alfred is already waiting outside for you,” he tells you. You nod and step outside, feeling the cool air hit you. You thank Alfred as he opens the door for you, stepping inside. Damian and Bruce are standing together on the porch. Bruce is telling Damian something, but he is only looking at you.

You send him a hesitant smile, and he nods at you.

Bruce watches the car drive off. “Still suspicious?” he asks.

“Nothing of note has happened,” Damian begrudgingly tells him. Bruce warmly chuckles.

“Well,” he starts, looking at Damian. “I like them.”

Damian narrows his eyes. “I do not like what you are insinuating.” Bruce shrugs innocently, stepping back inside the manor. Damian stands in the cool air for a moment, before following him inside.

The dance instructor has a headache, so she says that you all can do whatever you’d like, as long as you don’t bother her. You sit against the far wall, laptop on your legs. You’ll use the time to finish the assignments you’ve been procrastinating on.

Victoria surprises you by sitting next to you. She surprises everyone else to, if their wide eyes are anything to go by. They quickly look away at her glare. “Hey, Vicky,” you mumble, unbothered.

She pretends to look interested in what you’re typing. Her eyes watch your fingers as they rapidly move across the keys. She clears her throat.

“I would like to practice some more after school. I expect you to be there,” she says primly.

You raise a brow, still looking at your screen. “There’s no practice today.”

“Obviously,” she scoffs. “I wouldn’t be asking you if there was. I just think… it would be beneficial to us.”

You look at her. She’s crossed her arms and is looking down at her lap. You exhale and nod. “Yeah, okay.” You didn’t have anything planned after school anyway. Victoria nods, sitting beside you for the rest of the period.

Damian suggests that you come over again to work more on the presentation, but you have to deny. “I have a ‘special’ practice session with Vicky,” you wink.

Damian ignores your innuendo in favor of furrowing his brows. “You don’t have practice today.”

“First of all, what do you know?” you huff, putting your pencils away. “Second of all, you’re right. However, Vicky has ordered extra practice. Just the two of us.”

Damian grips his bag a little bit tighter. You wave goodbye as you leave the classroom, heading to the dance studio. Victoria’s waiting for you, still in her uniform. You place your bag down, suddenly tense. Victoria crosses over to you, grabbing your hand. “Shut the door,” she demands.

You obey, curious. “Something wrong?”

She fidgets with your web-shooter-turned-bracelet, like she’s looking for something. You’re not worried, the form it’s in right now gives nothing away, but you are really confused right now.

“Vicky?” you implore, trying to catch her eye.

“I…” she hesitates, before straightening her shoulders. “I know who you are.”

You furrow your brow. “What exactly does that mean–”

“I know you’re Spinnerette.”

What. The. Fuck.

You blink, because that’s all you can do. “What?”

“Don’t try to deny it. There’s no use,” she crosses her arms.

“Vicky, this is crazy. I’m not Spinnerette! Was it the Scarecrow attack? Are you still scared? Maybe you should see someone–”

“Spinnerette called my Vicky!” she snarls, pointing a finger at your chest. “No one calls me that but you.”

Your tongue pokes your cheek, stepping back. You never would’ve thought Vicky would be the first to figure you out. Though you suppose you haven’t been as careful as you thought. Fuck, how could you be so careless? Do you still try to deny it? Surely it won’t be that hard, but clearly Vicky is smarter than you think.

“Perhaps she could be a formidable ally,” suggests Karen. “She may have access to resources we need.”

You straighten at Karen’s voice. She’s right, of course. Victoria’s loaded. She can throw money at people to get you the materials you need. Expensive, high quality material. There’s just convincing her…

And maybe… it’ll be nice to have someone else know in this universe.

You sigh and hold out your arms. “Fine, you got me. I’m Spinnerette.”

Victoria smirks victoriously. “Show me.”

“Show you…?” you mutter.

“Show me some proof.”

You blink at the audacity. She was just accusing you of being Spinner, and when you admit that you are, she tells you to ‘prove it’ to her!? You sigh, tired of it all.

You walk to the wall of the room, placing your foot on it and climbing up. It’s a comical sight, the way your body completely changes rotation effortlessly. You walk along the ceiling, moving back to Victoria. Jumping down, you purse your lips and spread your hands. “Happy?”

Victoria’s got a glint in her eye that makes you nervous. She nods, and you set your hands on your waist.

“Okay listen, you know now, there’s no going back from here. If you tell anybody–” you begin, voice taking on a threatening tone.

“–I want to help you!” she blurts.

You blink. “Pardon?”

“Let me help you do your… saving people thing!” she says, waving her hand around. She steps closer to you, eyes shining. Huh. Well, you were going to threaten her and her parents' credibility as members of society. Rich people always have some skeletons in their closets, and you sure as shit are capable of finding them. This is a surprising turn of events.

Still, you scoff. “This is insane–”

“I can be your sponsor! Like whoever makes all of Batman's stuff!”

“I would’ve never expected this from you—why do you want to help me?” you ask incredulously.

“Nothing I do satisfies my parents!” she growls. Oh dear, backstory time. “They literally left me the company to inherit, but doubt my ability to run it. I pay attention, I get good grades and I do everything they say, but they still doubt me. I even try to get with stupid Damian Wayne.” She throws her hands up. “I don’t even like him!”

“I know I can’t tell them you’re Spinnerette, but if I can successfully help you do what you do…” she curls her hands together. “Then at least I would know that I’m good at something.”

You’re left speechless. It’s like you’re listening to a brand new person. You place your hands on her shoulders. “You already are good at something, dance!” You gesture to the room. “You work harder than anyone else here!”

“Dance isn’t my future,” she scowls.

You purse your lips. You have no idea how she feels. The adults in your life have always let you be yourself. Even if they didn’t you’ve always had the backbone to tell people to step off and let you do your own thing. Rich people like Victoria’s parents can get pretty extreme. You wouldn’t be surprised if they disowned her for not wanting to inherit the company.

You sigh, running a hand down your face. “Okay,” you mutter. Victoria stiffens in anticipation. “You can help.” You’ve been evaluating her this whole interaction. She’s a sheltered rich kid looking for adventure and on a weird journey of self discovery. She isn’t looking to rat you out (she kind of needs you, anyway).

She squeals and claps her hands, before clearing her throat and composing herself. “I look forward to our partnership.”

Arms crossed, you grumble out, “uhuh.”

“How do they work, anyway?” she says, grabbing your wrists, pressing around your bracelet.

“Uh, it won’t work in the state that it’s in–” a web shoots out of it, sticking to Victoria’s blazer. You guffaw. “Karen!” you gasp, knowing in the web-shooters’ bracelet form it wouldn’t shoot unless she made it.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” she asks cheekily. Traitor. God, she’s been waiting for someone else to talk to, hasn’t she?

Victoria looks mystified by the web actively attached to her. “Who’s Karen? she asks as she tries to grab the web.

“Do not–!” you grab her hand. “–touch it.”

“Why? Oh, right. It’s sticky, huh?”

“Yes, Vicky. The spider webs are sticky–” the door to the dance room opens, and you stiffen. Shit, the web–

Victoria closes the distance between you two, jumping on you and wrapping her legs around your waist. You instinctively hold her thighs to support her, looking at her in alarmed confusion.

“What–” she silences you by pressing her lips against yours. All coherent thought goes out the window, because literally what is your life?

Her hands wind around your head, and her lips caress yours with a soft yet firm pressure. Your heart races, pounding in your chest as you instinctively tighten your grip around her legs, pulling her closer. The warmth of her body against yours and the taste of her lips make everything else fade away.

After what feels like an eternity, she slowly pulls back, leaving your lips tingling. She gazes at you with a mix of mischief and satisfaction, running a hand through her hair to tuck a loose strand behind her ear. You stare at her in awe, your breath coming in short gasps. She's got balls of steel, no doubt about it. You just gained a whole new level of respect for her.

She looks to the side. “Oh, hi Damian.”

Oh god. You look to the entrance of the room and sure enough, Damian’s there. He’s looking at the two of you with wide eyes, unable to school his expression. He’s stopped dead in his tracks with your phone in his hand.

Wait… your phone!

You shift so Victoria’s back is facing him. You balance her with one hand, reaching between you two to get rid of the web that’s squished between you. You do it quickly, balling it up in your hand and setting down Victoria on the floor and heading over to Damian.

“Thanks, I didn’t even notice I left it,” you smile casually, internally screaming.

Damian says nothing as you take your phone from him, stuffing it in your pocket. You place your hands on his chest and guide him out. “Okay. Bye now. Talk to you later!” He seems to finally realize what’s happening, brows furrowing and looking at you before you close the door in his face. You lean against it, listening. There’s no sound for a bit, before you hear Damian walk away. You sigh.

“Holy shit, Vicky. What the hell?” You can’t help but laugh. You throw the balled up web in the trash, making your way over to her. She’s got a cheeky smile on her face, hands behind her back.

“It’s like I don’t know you anymore,” you tease. She’s looking at you.

“I like you,” she says, making you freeze for probably the tenth time this afternoon. When will it end?

“I have feelings for you,” she elaborates, pacing. “I know that you don’t feel the same. I just…” she stops, turning to face you. Her eyes peer earnestly into yours. It crushes your heart. “...I know your secret. Now, you know mine.”

You whisper, painstakingly soft, “oh, Tori…”

She sniffs, swatting your shoulder. “Don’t flatter yourself, I’m not in love with you or anything.”

Still, you feel like the worst human being ever. It’s not your fault you don’t have feelings for her, you know that. And yet… you’re probably the first person she’s ever shown this side of her to. Dare you say, her first real friend.

You pull her into your arms. “I’m so sorry.”

She melts into your arms, gripping you tightly. Her light sniffles fill the room.”I’ll get over it,” she promises. You only hold her tighter. After what feels like an eternity, she withdraws from you, wiping her tears.

“Okay, some ground rules,” you say, hopefully providing a much needed topic change

“Number one, you can’t tell anyone.”

She nods. “Obviously.”

“Number two, I call the shots. If I say do something, do it. I know better, it’s for the best.”

“Number three, this changes nothing. We can act like friends if you want, but if your grades start dropping or people start noticing you acting strange, we’re done. Got it?”

“Got it,” she agrees. You heave out a sigh. “Go home, Tori.” You web over her bag and hand it to her. She goes sparkly-eyed again.

“Will you patrol?” she can’t help but ask.

“I think I deserve the night off. The Bats can handle it.” You grab your stuff and turn towards the door. “I’m gonna take a long nap when I get home.”

“Let me take you home then!” she blurts.

“Jesus, do all you rich kids have chauffeurs?” you ask. She shrugs. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. I just wanna lay down and not wake up for three years.”

Victoria bids you goodbye as you make you enter your apartment. You drop your bag, groaning at your stiff shoulders. You sag your way over to your bed, flopping face first into it. You knock out almost immediately, letting the stress of the day leave you. Spideys never have it easy, do they?

notes: y'all i've had that tori scene in mind since i first made her LMAO

#damian wayne x reader #jon kent x reader #dc x reader #robin x reader #superboy x reader

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skyahri · 6 months

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Retire |Kakashi X Reader| HC

Summary: You need some convincing to leave ANBU.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and depression. Mentions of suicide. A bit angsty and self-destructive, but fluffy overall.

- - - - -

Even though he'd retired a few years back, you were still an active ANBU captain.

The job was grueling, and he was well aware that the longer you stayed, the worse the missions became.

That isn't just because of the overall baggage people acquire, but because seasoned black ops were often sent on the more... unethical missions.

You'd been acting off recently. He had let it go at first, knowing how taxing the line of work could be, but something in his mind was bugging him to investigate.

He assumed everything had started to actually get to you, so he decided to check in on you between missions with team 7.

He knocked on your door. It took a minute, but you answered.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but this wasn't it.

Your appearance was appalling.

You'd lost a lot of weight, you had bags under your eyes, and you reeked of alcohol.

"Just checking in on you. It's been a while."

"Yeah, Tsunade has me on back to back missions. This is my first break in months."

He had assumed his intensive schedule with his team was the thing keeping you two apart, but apparently not.

"How about you get cleaned up while I go get us something to eat? My treat."

"I'm pretty tired, Kashi. I think I'd like to continue rotting for the time being. Thanks for the offer, though."

You gently shut the door in his face.

A sour look plastered itself on his face.

Unfortunately, your use of rotting didn't seem too far off, so he decided to talk to a third party about it.

His first stop was to see Tenzo. Maybe he knew what was up since you two worked so closely.

"I've noticed as well. I tried to ask, but they told me it wasn't appropriate for subordinates to question their captain."

Add that to the list of odd behavior.

You loved Tenzo like family, just like Kakashi did, so the sudden change was worrisome.

He went to ask Asuma as well, knowing he had been in the village more often than he had recently.

Asuma pulled him inside his home and away from prying eyes. Last thing he wanted was the wrong person hearing such a sensitive information.

"We already talked to Tsunade about it months ago when we noticed a decline in her health. Word got back to them, they said something about breach of trust, and they haven't spoken to any of us since."

Kakashi just nodded.

He remembered a time where he also reacted poorly when he'd been questioned in a similar manner.

The only difference is lord Third actually listened instead of allowing him to dig himself deeper into an early grave.

He dwelled on it for a few days.

He cared about you deeply. It was different than any of his other friendships- more personal and open.

The last thing he wanted was to go behind your back and end up with the same treatment the rest of the group was getting.

So he put on his big boy pants and showed up at your door again with vengeance.

He had been practicing what he'd say the whole way over. He needed to be prepared for anything you threw at him so he didn't falter.

But when you opened the door, his fire simmered out.

You just looked so tired.

His words got stuck in his throat.

So he did the only thing he could think of - he just walked forward, straight into you, and wrapped you up in a hug.

You resisted at first, but the second his warmth hit your bones, you relaxed.

It only lasted for a moment before the feelings started to set in, causing your body to shake with sobs.

You fell to the ground, dragging him with you, but his hold didn't loosen one bit.

"It's okay. I'm here for you."

That only made things worse. Something about his comfort was making all the feelings you've worked so hard to repress bubble up to the surface.

After you'd visibly calmed down, he'd picked you up and carried you to the couch. He positioned you so you'd be touching as much as possible without him being too forward.

"I hate ANBU."

Straight to the point. He wasn't sure if that was good or not.

"Why don't you retire? It's been almost fifteen years. That's way longer than most make it."

You hesitated. You had a reason, but the thought of saying it out loud made it sound so silly.

One look at Kakashi’s face told you he wasn't messing around.

You sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder. It made it easier to answer without him looking at you.

"If it's not me going out there, its someone else. I'm already too far gone, may as well save someone else from this fate."

Oh.

Kakashi had fully been expecting some sort of 'I can handle it' response, but this one was so... awful. Just absolutely heart-wrenching.

He collected his thoughts, trying to find a way to reason with you.

"There are people in ANBU who can handle that kind of mental load. You were that person many years ago,"

You just looked at him with that sad, defeated face, and it broke his heart all over again.

"But that's not the case anymore. It's time to pass on the torch."

You shook your head, ready to get up and kick him out. He just pulled you back down and held your hands in his.

"I was so angry when I was forced to retire. I felt like I could do more, like it wasn't that bad, and everyone was underestimating me. Do you know what happens when shinobi like us aren't told to quit?"

You shook your head.

"They end up like my father."

You stayed silent after that. How could you argue when he had just pulled the dead dad card?

So you promised to think about it.

He knew that would be as good as it would get, so he dropped it and opted to switch to a lighter subject.

After an hour or so of talking, you fell asleep. He carried you to your bed and tucked you in. He thought about staying over, but decided against it.

He didn't see you the next day. He'd knocked on your door, but no one answered, and he couldn't sense you inside.

He hoped you were just busy and not on another mission.

He did see you the next day, however.

He was heading to the Hokage's tower to chat with Tsunade about team 7's next mission when he bumped into you.

You smiled at him.

It felt like he was looking at a different person. You were almost glowing. Your eyes seemed a bit brighter, face looked a little fuller, and overall vibe was less damming.

"I retired this morning."

He damn near hugged you in front of the whole village.

"That's great to hear."

#naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto headcanons #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi headcanons #kakashi fluff #kakashi x reader #kakashi sensei #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi

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floralcyanide · 2 months

Note

#9/#17 from smut list 2 & #11 from smut list 1 with Javi from Twisters, I can no longer unsee pre accident Javi not messing around if he was dating someone especially a fellow chaser in that car they borrowed from uni after noticing during rewatch two Kate mentioned they could barely get him to wear pants back then ykyk 😏

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫!

(requests are closed for the saturday night sleepover!)

Javi RIvera x Fem!Reader

prompts: 9: car sex, 17: sex while camping, 11: cockwarming after a long day in order to calm down together

a/n: javi was def super horny in college 24/7 you can't change my mind (and probably still is lbr)

For one particular chase, the group decides to make a night out of it and camp after the storm tapers off. The 6 of you camp out in the 4 Runner and the van, as well as a handy tent Jeb had brought, courtesy of his roommate. Kate’s mom had plenty of camping gear that she let all of you use as well, so it was a legitimate setup. Lanterns, a fire, some chairs, and non-perishable food with some sleeping bags and blankets. You and Javi decided to make a pillow fort in the back of the van, Jeb and Kate took the 4 Runner- Addy and Praveen used the tent to sleep in.

This chase was nerve-wracking for sure. A typical EF1 turned into a rowdy EF3 and required the entire team to work together to get back to safety. The group manages to find an area by the lake to camp and attempt to settle down. After a night of going over some data and exchanging ghost stories to ward off the tense vibes, the 6 of you wander over to your respective sleeping areas and crash. Except you and Javi, of course, because Javi doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself, especially when he’s nervous.

You sigh and roll over, causing Javi’s hand to retract from your thigh, “Are you okay?”

“No,” Javi mutters, moving to lay on his side and facing you, “Are you?”

“No,” you admit, “I’m still kind of anxious.”

You and Javi don’t have to whisper technically, as the van is parked a little ways from the tent and 4 Runner, so the others likely wouldn’t hear your conversation. But the night was still enough that you felt you had to keep your voices down.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Javi asks, rubbing your arm soothingly.

You shrug, “I can think of something else I’d rather do, honestly.”

“Like what?”

“Put your hand back on my thigh, and I’ll show you what.”

Javi grins from ear to ear at that. He puts his hand back where it was, his palm flat to your skin with his fingers splayed. Only this time, he quickly moves his hand under your shorts to cup your heat. He slips a finger under your underwear, toying with your clit until you’re squirming and growing wet. Javi tests how wet you’ve become with a curious finger.

“I wanna try something,” Javi says, his lips brushing your ear.

“Hmm? What’s that?”

“Get on top for a little while, but don’t move.”

“What, like, fucking you without moving?” you ask.

“Yeah, it’s more relaxing than you think. Now, come on,” Javi pats his thighs as he lays on his back.

You shrug, pulling down your shorts and underwear and setting them aside as Javi pulls his down his legs. As you hover, Javi teases your entrance and clit with the tip of his length before guiding himself inside you. You sigh in contentment as he fills you up nicely. After some adjusting, you manage to sit on top of Javi, him fully sheathed inside your needy cunt. Javi runs his hands along your thighs as you sit still on top of him, watching you with utter endearment.

“Feel better yet?” you ask, wanting so badly to move.

“Yep,” Javi pops the ‘p’. After a moment of silence, Javi reads your impatient facial expression, “You want to move, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you groan, “But it feels nice not to at the same time. I like being so full of you like this.”

“Maybe if you stay still long enough, I’ll let you move.”

“Deal.”

A few minutes pass and you’re now biting your lip in order not to swivel your hips. Javi chuckles, his hands on your hips. He lifts you up a little, to which you hiss, and then motions for you to drop back down. You let out a quiet, high-pitched moan, your fingers grasping at Javi’s shirt. He feels himself twitch as he bucks into you, wanting to hear you moan like that again. Adjusting yourself to the feeling of moving again, you start riding Javi slowly so you don’t accidentally scream out in pleasure. He feels you clenching around him, signaling you’re close.

“Gonna cum already? Didn’t know you needed me that bad- ow!”

Javi is interrupted by you flicking him on the nipple through his t-shirt, “Just fuck me, Jav. Save your snarkiness for later.”

Javi snaps his hips into you a little faster, matching your hip’s movements. He presses his thumb to your clit, and you come undone, having to shove your fist in your mouth to keep your moans at bay. Since Javi didn’t finish inside you, you offer to get him off quickly before the two of you decide it’s best to go to sleep.

“Go ahead, but I can tell you right now I’m probably just going to bust in your mouth in five seconds.”

#saturday night sleepover #floralcyanide sleepover #floralcyanide asks #floralcyanide speaks #asks #anon #writing prompts #elvis 2022 #javi rivera #javi rivera x reader #javi rivera x reader smut #javi rivera smut #javier “javi” rivera #twisters #twisters movie #twister 2024 #floralcyanide writes #anthony ramos #anthony ramos x reader

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 1 year

Text

Imagine being a new member of the Red Hair pirates eleven years before the main plot

Benn: This is Hongo, the ship's doctor

Hongo: And who is this ravishing creature?

Benn: down boy, this is the rookie that Shanks dragged home.

Hongo: Oh you poor thing.

You: Shanks picked me for my combat abilities

Hongo: you must be strong then.

You: admittedly my strength is nowhere near the boss's level, but I can go toe to toe with a rear admiral in a fight.

Hongo: I see

Uta: don't sell yourself short, I watched you spar with papa, and he was getting winded. *Makes those grabbie hands that signal she wants you to pick her up*

You: thank you, and who are you if I might ask. *Picks her up*

Shanks: that is Uta, my adorable daughter.

Uta: I'm papa's favorite, and don't you forget it, I'm also the ship's musician.

You: really, what instrument do you play?

Uta: *gestures to her throat* my voice box, I'm a singer.

You: I eagerly await your next performance then.

Uta: wait no longer, places everyone! *Claps her hands*

Hongo, Yassop, and Lucky Roux: *scamper around to clear a spot and set up a stage for her*

You: (ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ) ???

Benn: *scoops Uta out of your arms and carries her to the stage*

Uta: (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ a song for the newbie *starts to sing*

Yassop: *puts a chair under you and gently pushes you into it*

Shanks: *moves his chair next to yours and leans in* isn't she so cute?

You: yes, she has such a beautiful voice. Do you and your men usually allow yourselves to be controlled by the whims of a child?

Benn: ... Yes, but only because we want to

After the song

Uta: *chilling in your lap* what'd you think?

You: you're an exceptionally talented singer, you must put a lot of work into it.

Uta: of course, practice makes perfect.

You: and you seem to have everyone here wrapped around your little finger. They must love you very much.

Uta: yes... I think they feel guilty, since my parents are dead.

Shanks: it's not that

Yassop: at least not entirely

You: I figured you were adopted.

Uta: what do you mean?

Shanks: how could you tell?

You: because she's talented,

The crew: (⁠(⁠(⁠;⁠ꏿ⁠_⁠ꏿ⁠;⁠)⁠)⁠) ....

You: *quickly adds* at something besides fighting and debauchery.

The crew: *laughs*

Shanks: wow, already making cheap shots at your captain on your first day aboard. It's true, she's talented, she gets it from her mother. We do our best to make sure she's provided for, but there are still some areas we are lacking in.

Uta: yeah, like shopping

Benn: we take you shopping, literally every time we make port.

Uta: Yeah! But it is always to sleazy back alley joints where everything is second hand and not the designer shops that have cute new clothes. All because of papa's ugly mug has a bounty on it. Plus none of you have any sense of style, and can give me useful feedback on my outfits.

Shanks: well that's true, hey! You shouldn't call people, especially your poor father, ugly!

Benn: I have always wanted to take her to those shops too, our little girl would look so cute in those nice clothes.

You: I can take you, I don't have a bounty, and I know a little about fashion.

Uta: *looks over your outfit* your fashion sense, outwardly, appears to be less offensive to the eyes than papa's.

You: uh, thank you.

Shanks: Offensive? What about my outfit is offensive?

Uta: your shirt is wrinkly and stained, and your pants!... Don't even get me started on your pants.

Benn: allow me, they look like you made them out of someone's grandmother's couch.

Shanks: alright, thank you I get it.

You: *grumbles* Sandals are a little worse for wear as well.

Uta: *giggles*

Shanks: y'all are teaming up on me

Benn: yeah guys, he's only got one arm, it's downright unsporting.

List of Up-and-coming works

Support me on Kofi and Patreon

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #akagami no shanks #red hair shanks #red haired shanks #red hair pirates #benn beckman #uta #lucky roux #yassop #hongo #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #8/27/23 #no beta we die like men

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ladykailitha · 2 years

Text

Can Anybody See Me?

I just finished this first part of my Eddie adopting Steve in his senior year after his fall from grace and wanted to put it up.

Tag list of 50 has now been filled. Any other requests for tagging will be denied. I’m sorry.

Edit: Also if you saw the title as something else? No, no you didn’t. And any reblogs you see with anyone instead of anybody are a figment of your imagination. (*thuds head on laptop* I have the title right on here...in my file *wails*)

“Mr Munson?” the teacher called.

Eddie’s head snapped to the front of the class from where it had been watching King Steve Harrington throwing up in the garbage can.

“When Mr Harrington is done spilling his guts, would you please take him to the nurse’s station?”

Eddie pointed at himself and mouthed the word “me?”

He looked around the classroom and was shocked to find that Steve’s friends were either trying not to look at him or were actually snickering.

The teacher sighed. “Yes. If you would please.”

“Yeah Munson,” someone called. “Freaks should stick together after all.”

Eddie made a note of who it was and vowed to never to sell to the asshole again. He stood up and walked to the back of the room. He knelt down next to Steve and put his hand on his back.

“Hey,” he murmured. “You okay?”

Steve looked up at him blearily. “Munson?”

Eddie looked up at the teacher. “Would it be okay if we take the bin with us? So we don’t disturb the rest of the class?”

The teacher nodded, looking relieved.

Eddie helped Steve to his feet and made sure the other boy had a good handle on the bin and gently walked him outside. The cool air of the hallway hit them like a truck. But Steve beside him sighed in relief.

Eddie finally got a good look at Steve’s face, blackened and bruised as it was. “Who did you in?”

Steve’s head lulled back like a rag doll. “Billy Hargrove.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up and led Steve over to the wall next to the door. Steve slid to the floor, clutching the bin.

“Aren’t you two on the basketball team or whatever?” Eddie asked, moving to sit next to him.

“The king is dead, all hail the king,” Steve slurred.

Eddie scoffed. At least someone was getting something from their history class because it sure the hell wasn’t him.

“With the second concussion in two years, I’m off the team anyway,” Steve continued.

“Second?” Eddie asked, his eyes wide. “What the hell have you been doing man?”

Steve’s eyes focused momentarily. “Picking fights with boys that can kick my ass because they’re picking on kids that can’t defend themselves.”

“Actual kids?” Eddie asked his opinion of Billy dropping further than it already was.

“Does a thirteen year old still count as a kid?” Steve asked seriously.

Fuck.

“Yeah, yeah it does,” Eddie replied softly.

“I have this kid that I watch once and while,” Steve murmured, “actually I watch a half dozen, but anyway. Lucas Sinclair is really good at basketball and he tried out for the team. Billy decided to be a racist bastard about it. I clocked him and he laid me out. Literally.”

“Is that the reason for the...?” he waved at the bin and Steve’s face.

“Yup,” Steve said, closing his eyes. “Did you know that the nausea and dizziness of concussion can last longer than the actual concussion? Because I sure the hell didn’t.”

Eddie winced. “You up for the trek to the nurse’s office yet?”

Steve opened his eyes and looked over at the other boy. “I worry it’s the moving that’s making me puke.”

Eddie blinked and the cocked his head. “That’s a fair assessment, but you won’t know until you try.”

Steve nodded and then hissed. Eddie got his arm under him and gently lifted him to his feet.

Steve moaned.

“You good?” Eddie asked.

“Give me second,” Steve mumbled. He breathed heavily, trying to stop the world from spinning. “Okay. Yeah.”

Eddie moved them slowly through the halls to the nurse’s station. He didn’t throw up once which Eddie counted as a win.

“Messers Munson and Harrington,” the nurse greeted. “What causes you to darken my step today?”

Eddie grinned. “Nurse Ratchet, what a pleasure it is to see you again. I am here under orders to bring King Steve to you as he up chucked his lunch in math class.”

“It’s Nurse Kincade to you, Munson,” she bit out. “Put him on the table.”

Eddie steered Steve over to the table and looked him over. Steve was sweating from the exersion which considering he was in better shape than Eddie was that was a problem.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Do you want me to stay?”

Steve looked up at him and gulped. “Nah, man. You need to get back to class. You don’t want to be caught associating with me anyway.”

Eddie reared his head back. He was pretty sure that was his line. But he knew better than to argue. So he held up his hands and backed away slowly, listening to Steve explain to the nurse what had happened. Eddie grabbed the bin and cleaned it out before he returned to class. He had briefly thought to leave as a prank. But they would know it was him and he promised his Uncle Wayne that he wouldn’t get detention this year.

And while he also knew Uncle Wayne meant the school year, the year of 1984 was ending and he could at least last that long.

He got back to class and stood at the door. He really didn’t want to go in but class had fifteen minutes left and that was too long for him to wait. So with a heavy sigh he yanked open the door.

The teacher clocked him immediately. “You left Mr Harrington alone?”

Eddie threw up his hands again. “Dude wanted me to leave, I know better than to overstay my welcome.”

The teacher rolled his eyes. “And yet, here you are in my class for the second year in a row.”

Eddie grinned. “Aww, teach. That’s not overstaying my welcome, that’s tenacity.”

“This is algebra Mr Munson, not English,” he moaned. “Please take your seat.”

He could hear the snickering behind him, but he didn’t care. He thought about a boy who looked after kids that were barely teenagers and took beatings for them, to protect them. He thought about mismatched hazel eyes, one almost swollen shut. He thought about the inherent kindness of a beat down soul and wondered what made him kind in this cruel world.

Eddie spotted Steve at lunch, sitting by himself, pushing the food around on his tray. He was probably still feeling nauseous. He went to the vending machine and got ginger ale. As he passed by Steve, he looked at the bottle in his hand.

“Fuck,” he murmured. “I wanted a Coke. Hey, Harrington, you like ginger ale?”

Steve’s head snapped up in shock. “Uh, yeah. I’ve been known to like it on occasion.”

Eddie tossed it at him. “Here, you have it.”

He went and sat down by his friends. All three of them were juniors but he been friends with them since the talent show in middle school. They were in a band together called Corroded Coffin and they were pretty damn good if he thought so himself.

“What was that about, man?” Jeff asked.

Eddie turned to Jeff. He knew of all the boys at this table would understand why he threw Harrington a bone. He leaned in close so only his friends could hear.

“Harrington got his bell rung by Hargrove for protecting the Sinclair boy,” he whispered.

All three boys lifted their heads to look over at Steve who was sipping the ginger ale and starting to eat a little.

They hunched back into their circle.

“Looks like Hargrove got him good,” Gareth said. “What was the ginger ale for?”

“It’s good for nausea,” Eddie whispered. “He threw up in math class and I had to take him to the nurse’s station.”

“But I thought Carol and them were in that class, too,” Brian murmured.

Eddie shook his head. “They are, man. But Steve’s on the outs with the whole lot.”

Jeff frowned. “I didn’t think that Mr Harrington would have let his boy hang out with the Sinclairs.”

Eddie looked over at Steve and then back down to his friends. “I’m only telling you what he told me.”

His friends nodded. Whatever was going on, the Corroded Coffin boys were too far down the social ladder to be in the know.

Eddie looked over at the lonely boy one more time. Something didn’t feel right. Something else was going on, something darker. One didn’t simply go from the top of the social elite to less than the weirdos overnight for nothing. And Eddie was going to find out what.

Now with part 2 and part 3 part 4 part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

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obsessivestar · 23 days

Text

'What If It's All A RomCom?' - A Ted Nivison x Reader (Lemon)

{{-Here we are folks. We've finally reached the first smut chapter, Chapter. I ain't gonna say much except definitely go and read Chapter 5 before this one cause it's somewhat necessary. All other chapters will be listed at the bottom. Enjoy 😊 pls don't ban me-}}

//General Warnings: 18+ Fic, Reader is implied to be afab and under 5'5

Chapter Warnings: PURE SMUT. IF YOU'RE UNDER 18 GO AWAY. Heavy kissing, fingering, Ted giving head, passionate shii, finishes inside, whole noin yawds\\

Word Count: 4.9k (y/w)

☆▪︎▪︎▪︎Taglist!▪︎▪︎▪︎☆

@k-k0129 & @callsign-scully

☆Thank y'all for bein' as nasty as me LMAO☆

Chapter 6: No Cameras

Ted is looking at me with this stupid half-smile on his face, knowing full well he had caught me red handed. I'm scrolling through my panicked mind to find some sort of excuse that'll make sense, but I don't think I can talk my way out of this one.

"You fuckin' did, didn't you?" Ted asks, his smile only getting bigger the longer I take to answer. He's keeping his eyes on mine, keeping his hands on his laptop's mousepad to keep the light from dimming. I break the eye contact by rolling my eyes and shake my head. "Keep dreaming.." I mutter, trying to play off my clear embarrassment with a scoff. "No no no no, I fucking know what I saw! I'm not letting you avoid it this time." Ted chuckles, setting his laptop aside to sit up more in my direction. I turn away to turn on the lamp beside me. I feel like I need to see his face at all times, like something bad will happen if I can't see him. Maybe I want something bad to happen.

"'This time'?" I repeat, furrowing my brows at him. "When have I ever--"

"This afternoon, when we were stuck in the truck?" Ted raised his brows at me, giving me this 'I gotcha' expression. "I let it slide when you checked me out the first time; chalked it up to you playin' with me, now I'm not so sure."

"Playing with you?" I repeated what he said again. Seems repeating back what he's saying to me is all I can muster up, he's reading me like a book and I don't want to give him any more pages.

"Like our back and forths? I thought it was still just that, but now? I mean, pshh, if I'm wrong, tell me and I'll leave ya alone."

"Leave me alone?" I raise a brow at Ted while trying to avoid eye contact.

"Yeah. If I'm--If I'm just fuckin' crazy, tell me and I'll leave. I won't bring it up again tomorrow and we can...keep things as they are, I guess." Ted explained, gesturing to me. "But I don't think I'm crazy."

Remember that timer I mentioned? Now I feel like it's counting down from 20. I can practically hear the ticking in my head as I lock eyes with Ted once more. I'm trying to read his expression. I'm looking for any signs of how he's feeling as well. He's been saying things like 'why I couldn't kiss you doesn't need to be said at this rate' and 'we should be louder', but I can't recall him ever making a move. Our chemistry can't be denied, and neither can my attraction to him, yet I'm still having doubts. If I lie, he leaves my room and never brings it up again, but I may never discover how he feels, and all of this tension will fizzle out into an unsatisfying nothing. But if I tell the truth and he doesn't feel the same, the next 2 and a half weeks are going to be incredibly awkward. He could even quit, or maybe I'd have to quit.

I'm terrified of having the wrong idea about all of this. I don't know when or if the playful flirting became real, I don't know when or if the sarcastic pet names became real, but we've been sitting together, teaming up, going out to run errands, kissing longer than we should. I can't pinpoint a single moment where either of our teasing may have blossomed into something more.

But...it can't just be my imagination. There has to be more.

"I....may have glanced.." I admit with an embarrassed smile, looking up at the ceiling and turning my head away from Ted. I didn't want to see his reaction, but he certainly made it known. "Oh my god.." Ted playfully gasps, I can hear him grinning ear to ear, it's making me anxious "You like me! Do you like me??"

"...I gotta fix the curtains.." I mutter to myself, finding an excuse to get out of bed. I turn off the lamp first, a quiet huff leaving me. I still couldn't tell how he was feeling, and it was bothering me. Was he making fun of me? My face felt so warm, I didn't want him to look at it at all. "Oh no fucking way. Stay there, we're talkin' about this." I hear Ted chuckle and move around a little. "I'm not going fucking anywhere until I get some answers."

I move to open the curtains, taking a quiet but deep breath as I struggle to pull them apart. I have to lean over a dresser just to get to the curtains so I'm initially too distracted to hear that Ted was getting out of bed, until it's too late. I watch his hand take my arm so I'm forced to look at him, realizing he's practically got me cornered. Behind me is the air conditioner, and behind that is a wall. The only other place I can move to now is the bed, unless Ted moves.

"You can't act like it's all a fuckin' joke now. I gotchu, (Y/N). I gotchu."

"'Got me' what?" I huff with an embarrassed smile, once again avoiding eye contact as I remove his hand from my arm. "It was a glance."

"Oh you're gonna try and fuckin' lie now, eh princess? Not gonna own it?"

"Own what?"

"That you like me! You've given me the fuckin' kissing tell twice today! Off camera! What, you don't wanna kiss me now?"

"I wanted to open the curtains."

"You don't wanna kiss me?"

"Ted, I can't move--"

"You don't wanna kiss me?"

"I wanna get out of this corner--"

"Look at me then."

"Ted, it's the fucking tell for our film, it doesn't mean--"

"If it doesn't mean anything, look at me."

I roll my eyes and turn my head to face him once more, seeing just how close he had really gotten to me. His body was merely inches away from mine, and man, was he towering over me. It was a little overwhelming, I felt like I couldn't breathe properly. He's looking at me with that same devilish half-smile from before. I can't hold back the urge to smile, a light giggle leaving me as I force myself to break away from his gaze. I'm almost glad he caught me. He's so handsome. When he gives me those eyes, I panic. I can't look him straight in the eyes for too long. I feel like I'm falling right into a trap, but maybe I wanted to be caught. And yet I still try to talk my way out of it.

"Y-You were talking! I was just--I was listening to you talk." I huffed, shrugging with my hands out somewhat. I knew I sounded defensive as fuck, I couldn't control my tone. I was so nervous. Even with my body facing Ted, I couldn't look him in the eye. "You were talking. You were talking a-and I'm not gonna stare at you the entire fucking time you're talking. That's weird. Like-like what am I, a fuckin' owl?? Just staring at you?? No, you have other places--I have other places I have to look when someone's speaking! Doesn't mean I want to-mmmh--"

My ramblings are interrupted by the feeling of Ted's lips pressing against mine gently, one of his hands moving to my waist with the other resting upon my cheek. For a moment, I'm frozen in time. He's kissing me. He's kissing me again. There's no camera's and he's kissing me. I can't think straight. I can't think...at all.

That moment when you kiss someone

and everything around you becomes hazy...

And the only thing in focus is you and this person.

I allow my body to relax and return the gentle kiss, closing my eyes to slip into this intimacy fully. Ted pulls me in closer to deepen the kiss, almost hungrily so, like he's been waiting just as long as I have to be together again. By the time I got comfortble enough to move one of my hands, Ted breaks the kiss, keeping his hands on me. I open my eyes to meet his affectionate gaze, my lips still slightly parted from the kiss. Any and all anxiety I had been feeling has just disappeared. I feel...assured.

"Is that what you wanted?.." He speaks to me quietly with a light nod, slowly caressing my cheek with his thumb. I tried. I really tried. I tried not to 'catch feelings', I told Joe I wasn't sleeping with him, but my god do I want his lips on mine. I want to kiss him. I want him close. I want him to be mine, even just for tonight. I don't want him to leave. "I don't know.." I admit with a quiet giggle, lightly biting my lower lip. "You...might have to do it again...or a couple more times...just to see."

"A couple more, eh?.." Ted smirks deviously, moving his hand to firmly grab my jaw, keeping me still so I can't turn away this time. "You sure you want that? With everyone here?"

"'Everyone'? Please..." I playfully scoff at him, glancing down at his blush toned lips once more before gazing into his earthy eyes. "There's no cameras in here, Ted.."

Ted's smile grows, shaking his head a little at me before leaning in to kiss me once more. A satisfied purr leaves him when I don't hesitate to kiss him back this time. I once again find myself on cloud nine, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him into a deeper kiss. He moves his hand from my jaw so he can hold my waist with both hands, pulling me in closer to press his body against mine. He tilts his head more in the deep kiss, and I feel his tongue once again lightly glide along my lower lip. I slowly open my mouth to allow his tongue to move along mine, hearing him quietly snicker in the kiss in response. God, he's hot, and he knows it. He must know it.

When the kiss begins to pick up even more, I let a quiet moan escape me, bringing my hands down to cup his face. This makes him pull from the kiss briefly to look at me once again, his eyes lingering on my lips. My face once again feels like it's on fire and the butterflies certainly haven't left my stomach, but I know I want him. I know.

"That's so cute.." Ted purrs lowly and pulls me back into the passionate kiss, keeping up the pace from before. I felt his thumbs caressing my waist through the light fabric of my nightgown as I hungrily latch onto his blush toned lips, just like I desired to in his truck. He's mine. He's mine I say to myself as I pull him onto the bed with me. It's the only coherent thing running through my mind.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

We waste no time. Ted and I move up a bit in the bed, our lips staying locked together until my head finally hits the pillow. His glasses eventually fall off his face and gently lands on mine. "Fuck.." Ted mutters with a light chuckle, taking his glasses and placing them on my nightstand. I giggle as he returns to the arousing kiss, a muffled moan escaping him. My cheeks and hands feel warm and the only sounds between us are our heavy breathing and our longing kiss. My arms once again wrap around Ted's neck when I feel him press his body against me once more, lightly picking at the back of his blue shirt.

"Patience, princess.." Ted whispers against my lips, planting one last deep kiss on my lips before beginning to travel little kisses to my neck. I take in a sharp breath, stiffening up once I feel his lips on my sensitive neck. "I've been patient enough. Take it off.." I grunt at him, starting to pull his shirt up a little with my nails. He lets out a mocking chuckle and pulls away so he can remove his shirt, simply throwing it somewhere in the room before returning to me, picking apart the buttons of my nightgown. I notice the silver chain he has around his neck, running my hands along anywhere I can touch him. I don't have the energy to feel embarrassed about my body, I feel like I'm burning up anyways, everywhere feels so hot, and the only thing that can cool it down is his touch. His touch. His touch...

He gets my nightgown off of me and throws it somewhere before latching back onto my neck. A more audible moan leaves me, but I quickly cover my mouth, quietly reminding myself that we're not alone in this house. The reminder doesn't last when I feel his hand sneak its way into my pajama shorts, sliding a finger in between my sensitive folds. I gasp and instinctively grab his arm, and I feel him grin against me. He's moving through this so fast, yet I have no real desire to stop him. "E-Easy.." I moan quietly, my whole body stiffening up when his thumb finds my clit. A jolt of pleasure surges through my thighs, I can feel my bud and my entrance reacting to his touch, pulsing, wanting, urging for it. Somehow, somehow, he knows exactly where to touch me.

"You were aaalll talk..." Ted purrs against my skin, moving up from my neck to look me in the eyes once more. He slides his hand away from my core to tug my pajama shorts down enough to be able to touch me freely. His fingers once again move between my folds, watching my physical reactions with amusement. "God, I've wanted to shut you up. You talk too fuckin' much." As he purrs at me, two of his fingers find my entrance and slowly slide into me, a gasp releasing from me. I playfully glare at him and bring my hand up to grab the back of his head, tangling my fingers in his dark locks before pulling him into a deep, sloppy kiss. I hadn't felt how wet he had really made me until now, his fingers effortlessly pumping inside of me. Everything he did to me felt so good and the only thing I could do was let him. I managed to slide my free hand down to feel him from over his sweatpants, and was he good and hard for me. I feel him groan in the kiss, and I snicker at him. I couldn't wait to take him. I knew it'd be even harder to control my voice once he was inside me. I wanted it. I wanted it so bad.

Ted's fingers leave my entrance and I feel him leave my essence along my thighs so he can hold himself up with both arms, breaking the kiss to once again guide his lips down to my neck, only this time he keeps moving. I feel my face getting hotter, instinctively bringing a hand up to touch my cheek and run my fingers through my hair. I'm a hot mess, I feel Ted's lips move further and further down my body, lapping up my breasts like he's worshipping me. "You needed this as much as I did, eh?" I manage to speak up in a soft tone, smiling ear to ear when I feel him spread my legs.

"I don't need your fuckin' commentary.." Ted growls in between my breasts, making a quiet giggle escape me.

"You can't shut me up, Theo."

"Yeah? You think thats what I'm doin'?" Ted's kisses reach my lower stomach before he readjusts himself to lift my legs up to sort of sit around his shoulders, his head now perfectly between my legs. When his lips and his tongue meet my inner thighs I feel my belly flutter with nerves and excitement, bringing one hand up to lightly bite my knuckle while the other rests on my lower belly.

He nibbles at my inner thighs before finally moving further in, allowing his tongue to slide in between my sensitive folds, my budding clit immediately reacting when the tip of his warm tongue glides along it. I reel my head back and moan out as he takes full control of my body from my core, taking in all of my alluring essence in his mouth. I feel like my body is being sucked out of my soul, like he's secretly been an incubus all this time, a master of a woman's body. He's commanding me to feel bouts of pleasure I've never experienced with a man before and I can feel my core aching for more and more. My hand reaches down further to grip his tall dark hair, a pleasurable laugh escaping me as he laps me up like a desperate hound aching for scraps. I can hear him moaning between my legs, his hands gripping my thighs and pulling me into him more. Ted's tongue dances inside me, subtly slipping along my entrance to taste my every desire more and more. I can feel his pointy chin lower down, his stubble against my folds, his lips massaging at my own, he just doesn't stop. His tongue finds my now throbbing clit over and over and over, back and forth, back and forth. My body is left, wanting, begging, pleading, praying for release until it finally pours out.

"Ted! Ted!! Oh my fucking god--Yes, Yes! Yes like that! I--"

It starts at my clit and spreads all across my body, Ted having to hold my thighs to keep me balanced. I struggle to hold in the never-ending waterfall of moans pouring out of me, so I slap my hand over mouth and moan into it as much as my body will allow. I'm absolutely drunk with pleasure and it feels like it could last for infinity. I stretch out my ankles and my hands as my orgasm crashes over my entire body, the overwhelming pleasure surging up into my brain, making me roll my eyes back and close them. I remove my hand from my mouth when I start to come down from its peak, letting him hear my desperate whimpers as the high of my orgasm starts to fade, leaving my clit feeling warm and sore. I've been aching for this all week, and finally, finally, I'm feeling all of this tension start to come undone. That might've been the most intense orgasm I've ever been given, and yet, he wasn't done with me.

I hear Ted moan to himself, watching with tired eyes as he wipes his mouth with his free hand. I got a glimpse at how wet I truly was, but I didn't even need it, I could feel it, especially when he fully pulled away from my thighs and the light air hit them, my essence had spread nearly everywhere after how he ate me out, and I loved it. "I can't get enough of you.." Ted purred, coming face to face with me once more so he could pull me into a hungry kiss. Even despite such a strong surge of pleasure, I can feel my body pleading for more, my core aching for Ted to finish what he started. It was agonizing not having him inside me yet. I was ready now more than ever. I was so desperate, I'd do anything he wanted me to just to feel him. I felt like I was under a spell, but truthfully, it was just from good fucking head.

"Please. Please.." I beg to him in the kiss, cupping his face with a needy moan escaping me when he breaks from the kiss to work at removing his sweatpants. "See? Couldn't shut you up even if I wanted to.." Ted grins devishly at me, leaning down to kiss and nibble at my jaw. A satisfied smile spreads along my face, leaning my head back and closing my eyes to continue enjoying his intimate touch.

"You're the one doing all the talking.." I moan softly

"You're the one makin' all the fuckin' noise." Ted grunts when he finally gets his sweatpants off, pulling back for a moment to toss them aside before returning to my body. "As much as I like hearing you flap your fuckin' lips all day..." Ted pulls me in closer by my legs, a surprised but excited gasp leaving me, causing me to briefly look down. My god, his size is perfect for me. All of that is going to fit so good inside me, I shudder out a breath and lock eyes with Ted once more. "...I like making you squirm even more." Ted towers his body over mine, holding himself up with one arm while holding my hips with the other.

I feel my entrance aching for him to fill it, a blushing mess when I feel him glide his shaft along my soaking wet folds, the tip brushing along my already sensitive bud from earlier. I moan out in surprise, closing my eyes for a moment and giggling. "Yeah? I bet.." I purr, opening my eyes to gaze at Ted once more, gliding my tongue along my upper lips. "You better not be all--" I close my eyes and moan suddenly when I feel his length push into my entrance, feeling every curve and edge shape around my tight walls like his cock was made for me; actually made for me.

When I feel he's completely in, there's a moment where neither of us move or say anything. I open my eyes and see him looking at me, face to face once more. I lock eyes with his earthy orbs, the only noise between us being the sounds of our desperate panting. It's the first and only moment of the night where we slip past our passionate embrace to truly process what's about to change between us. We certainly can't go back now. That timer hit zero nearly a good hour ago. This is what we are now.

Ted gives me a tired smile to reassure me that he wants this, a quiet chuckle leaving me in response before I feel him start to move his hips. His pace is gentle at first, not too slow, really taking in how wet I've become because of him. Every moment our gazes would lock, every moment I could feel his breath on me, every flirtatious insult, every comment, every glance; it all felt like it was leading up to this. Every thrust felt like the pleasurable unwrapping of all of this tension I've been burdened with. My core was sending pleasing signals up my body and down my legs every time his hips rubbed against mine, thanking me for finally letting this man take me. My god, have I been waiting for him to take me, aching for it. It's all I can think about now. The pleasure, the pleasure.

I hear my name in a whisper from Ted's gravely tone, feeling Ted adjust his body to be sitting up more, one of his hands nearly gripping my shoulder with the other on my hip, pulling me into his increasingly rougher thrusts. My breasts jolt and bounce with every rock of the bed, hearing it lightly squeak beneath us as his length pumps inside me. I can feel my thighs shivering with excitement, my lower belly tingling for more. My judgement is beginning to be clouded by just how nicely he's fucking me, having a troubling time keeping my voice down with every pulse of satisfaction through me.

"Ohh, Theo.." I let out a girlish moan, bending my legs up a little more to adjust the angle to my liking, feeling him pick up his pace in response. He moved both hands to my hips so he can really work himself into me, grinding his hips against mine out of desperation. The veins of his throbbing shaft are massaging me so nicely, I know my essence is practically drenching it. My arousal is spreading further and further through my veins, a particular curved thrust from Ted causing my body to jolt with pleasure.

"Oh my god--Ted, Yes! Ted! Yes! Yes! Whatever you just did, I--I need that, I need it, I need it.." All of my thoughts and feelings have been taken over by Ted's body, begs and pleads beginning to pour out of me at such an alarming rate, yet I can't stop myself. I can't shut myself up. Ted is taking every last coherent thought with every deep thrust, and I just have to take it. He gets to use me for as long as he wants, and I have to take it. I want to take it.

Ted forces my legs upwards more until my knees are nearly touching my breasts, his own sighs and groans of pleasure mixing in with my own. He hides his face in my neck and really begins to put his all into me, the sound of his hips smacking into mine getting louder with every swift pump of his cock. I wrap my arms and legs around his body the best I can, finally able to work my fingers through his dark hair as I cry out for him. I can't control myself. All I feel is his length pumping inside me, his cold chain against my chest, his stubble scratching my cheek, his voice purring and moaning in my ear like a desperate animal in heat, finally satisfying his carnal desires. My walls tighten around him, my sensitive bud throbs for him, my thighs are shivering, my body is aching, all for him. It's all for him.

"Theo! Theo! Right there, right there, right there right there!" Is nearly all I can whimper out for him, practically crying out when I feel my body ready itself for release. I'm gripping and pulling at his hair with one hand and gripping his bare back with the other, both of my legs locked around him, trapping his cock inside me. His hips slam against mine over and over and over, I can't comprehend anything except the pleasure. Ted. Ted. Teddy...

Eventually it's all too much for my mind to comprehend. I don't even have the energy to let him know I'm cumming, I just cry out for him to not stop fucking me. He pulls away from my neck to connect our foreheads when I pull at his hair roughly. I don't care if anyone hears us. Let them hear. All that's in focus is the second and finale orgasm Ted allows my body to reach for the night, elevated when I feel his warm seed flow into me. My whole body shudders and I'm able to let out a few shaky moans, his last desperate thrusts to empty himself deep inside me causing my eyes to once again roll back briefly, fully and completely satisfied by him.

I don't feel Ted pull out right away. With my eyes closed, I feel the bed stop moving first All of my senses start slowly returning. I feel our warm, sticky bodies pressed against one another, I feel our hot breathes mixing as we try to steady our heavy panting, I feel a cold wetness spread along my folds and up my inner thighs, but most of all, I just feel...relieved.

I open my eyes to see Ted's tired gaze, watching as he comes down from the same high. That's when he finally decided to pull out, a quiet moan leaving us both. My sense of awareness and judgement are the last thing to return to me and I briefly wonder just how loud we both may have been, but any worries melt away when Ted's lips meet mine once again. He kisses me with passion and care, letting out a pleased hum in the kiss before pulling away to move off of me.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I unwrap my arms and legs from his body so he can lay down beside me, both of us just staring up at the ceiling while continuing to try and catch our breath. If this were some passionate seen in a TV show or movie, this is where the next scene would cut to: the aftermath. I'm a mess, he's a mess, and yet we're both too tired to care. I had nothing to worry about in regards to how Ted finished, I was already on birth control, he knew this. I turn my head to look at him and blush to myself, turning my body a little in his direction. He looks at me and gives me a weak but reassuring smile, not hesitating to pull me into his arms. I was glad that he was willing to stay and hold me, partially because my side of the bed was now drenched and damp, but also because I wanted him here. I wanted him to stay. He manages to get the light comforter over our bodies to keep them warm, wrapping his arms around me for the night.

Not a word was spoken, nothing more needed to be said.

We both quietly agreed to fall asleep together and discuss everything the morning.

__________________________________

|| Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 (smut)

#ted nivison #chuckle sandwhich #ted nivison x reader #jschlatt #ted nivison fanfic #ted nivison x you #ted nivison smut #ted nivison lemon #ted nivison x reader smut

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princecharmingwinks · 9 months

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Sterek Fic Rec - June-December 2023.

Can you believe we are almost at the end of 2023? These last six months have been quite busy for me so sadly haven't been able to read as much fic as I would have liked. But I am still here and will continue to create rec lists whenever I get the chance to read more fics. I am also rounding the word counts so please click on the links for the exact word count. :)

it doesn't have to be a snowman by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren) (1/1 | 4K | General)

The Beacon Beans coffee shop is what Stiles would refer to as a lifesaver. They supply his dose of sugar whenever he needs it, they don't ask questions, and their hot chocolate is delicious. And now they're running a snowman building competition where the grand prize would get him an entire year's worth of drinks. Really, all he needs is a partner to team up with. Only everyone else from the pack already seems to have paired up.

Bravery is a Loaded Gun by DefNotForWork (1/1 | 17K | Explicit)

“No, I’m not asexual, Stiles,” Derek said shortly. The teen’s heart sank in his chest, his palms going clammy and his neck prickling with the familiar feeling of rejection. “So then it’s,” Stiles swallowed, throat clogging, unable to give voice to the facts he would much rather ignore. The silence grew between them, growing tense the longer it was left. For the first time in years, Stiles couldn’t speak. The weight of inadequacy held down his typical stream of useless banter. What does one say in this sort of situation? ‘I’m sorry you don’t find me attractive?’ In which the boys speak in half sentences and have two totally different conversations. What they can agree on, eventually, is that they love each other. And that Derek should jerk off more.

Undertow by entanglednow (1/1 | 4K | Mature)

"I don't want you to die because my swirls weren't swirly enough."

Fire and Water by GreyHaven (1/1 | 2K | General)

Derek is full of unspoken words and unexpressed emotions that sear him from the inside out until finally, finally, he allows them to escape into dark ash stains that smear across the harsh white of his notebook. Or, the one in which Derek is compelled to write a story. Turns out, he's writing about Stiles. What will happen when Stiles reads it? Angst and healing and two people finding safety in each other.

eli's parents are so gross (read: in love) by ash_mcj (1/1 | 1K | Teen)

"I would’ve been here earlier, but nobody thought it would be smart to call the one person who’s intimately dealt with the Nogitsune before, so,” Stiles said bitterly as he threw his hands up. "Now I have a list of asses I gotta kick over this very avoidable fiasco. Scott’s first, since he’s the Alpha—I’m pretty sure that’s how that works. His responsibility, or whatever.” The familiar sound of Derek’s car pulling into the driveway caught Eli's attention, and he grinned. “Is Dad on your list?” “Hell yeah, Dad is on my list! Right under Scott.” “Well, he just got home, so—” Stiles didn’t wait to hear the rest of the sentence before stomping off in the direction of the living room—and Eli quickly scrambled to follow him, ready to eavesdrop on what was likely going to be a rather impressive and amusing lecture. [or: eli is glad that stiles is home, since derek has nearly died several times in his absence, but he really wishes they were a little less glad to see each other] -- prompt | a reunion kiss

Ashes, Ashes by ShanaStoryteller (1/1 | 2K | Teen)

The Sheriff gets a call at work - someone's tried to burn down his home with his son inside. "I thought of you coming here, and finding me dead, of another burnt out husk of a body, something else fire has stolen from you, of you having nothing left to grasp but ashes," John can't even call that a whimper, it's clearly a whine as Derek's hands tighten against Stile's hips, as if his boy will shudder to dust at the mere mention of the possibility unless Derek's hands can hold him into one piece, "and that thought was worse than dying."

Love Runs Wild by DevilDoll (1/1 | 9K | Explicit)

"You've got a hickey on the back of your neck!" A Neckz 'n Throats story.

So When Do I Get To Pledge My Loyalty To The Mob? by RedRidingStiles (1/1 | 10K | Mature)

“Are you my sugar daddy?” Stiles blurts out, slapping a hand over his mouth when his brain catches up to his mouth. The man lets out a soft laugh, making his way around the couch till he’s standing just feet away from Stiles. Stiles can smell his cologne from here, it smells heavenly, Stiles kinda wants to bury his face into the guy's chest so he can figure out exactly what it is. “If that’s what you’d like to call it.” The man smiles. Stiles doesn’t think he should be allowed to smile like that. All soft and gorgeous and way too pretty to be legal. He’s still not convinced any of this is real. Stiles loses his wallet, someone returns it along with $5,000. Shit keeps coming, Stiles life doesn't make any sense anymore, he's just going with it. Edited in October 2022

Stiles is My Safe Place by Star_crossed02 (5/5 | 10K | Mature)

Stiles gets bitten by Kali, and after a brief adjustment period, proceeds to co-lead the Hale Pack to defeat the Alpha Pack once and for all. OR What happens when a sassy spark-werefox starts courting an alpha sourwolf?

It feels like a perfect night (for breakfast at midnight) by princecharmingwinks (1/1 | 1K | General)

Stiles is floating on cloud nine. He is absolutely living his best life. It's a Saturday night, he's out with his friends and he's dancing like it's his birthday. Because it is! (Or it will be in 20 minutes, once midnight ticks around). And what better way to celebrate the respectful age of 22 than a night out?

princecharmingwinks special mention (My plane flying companion - I read a new chapter every time I took a new flight)

First Son, Last Chance by orphan_account (12/12 | 60K | Mature)

When First Son Stiles Stilinski, beloved public figure and the bane of his private security team, goes missing without a trace, ex-security officer Derek Hale finds himself tangled up in the world of Argent Security, a world he was forced out of when rumours abounded that he was sleeping with his charges. There's no leads, no time and no way Derek is going to rest until Stiles has been brought home safely. (Inspired by this post.)

That is all folks for 2023! Sorry again for a late addition. See you in the new year. Remember to leave kudos and comments for our wonderful writers.

#sterek #sterek fanfiction #fic rec #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #princecharminglists

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lurkingshan · 3 months

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My Love Mix Up Episode 2

I have just finished the episode and I was not pleased, so this is your warning to look away if it's going to hurt your feelings to read a serious critique of this show.

I was trying to give it some space last week, but this is an offensively bad adaptation of a beloved Japanese work. I could not believe my eyes through the final part of this episode, and I was already feeling pretty down on the episode before I even got there. The team at GMMTV has stripped most of the important themes and the unique aspects of these characters away and replaced them with monetized drivel that is basically just a MSP redux in Kieta Hatsukoi drag. Let me make a quick list of the bad changes in this episode:

Rather than accepting Atom volunteering to play the lead role in drag and rallying around him, the class shoots him down and forces Mudmee into the role

Which means not only that Atom does not perform in drag, but also does not spend time properly rehearsing for this role on stage with the rest of the cast (put a pin in that one!)

Atom doesn't struggle much with getting over Mudmee and starts making moon eyes at Kongthap much earlier on--there's no real arc, it just suddenly is happening

Kongthap is somehow comfortable starring as the lead in a musical despite the fact that he is meant to be a socially awkward and quietly intense dude

Oh yeah, they made the play a goddamn musical so they could make a series of MVs within the episode and monetize the OSTs (they were going to make Mudmee, a girl with intense stage fright, sing and dance onstage???)

Atom runs into the play at the last minute (somehow in a costume for a part that didn't exist) and hits all his marks, performing flawlessly in a role he did not properly prepare for instead of comically struggling to carry out a passable performance

Kongthap (who you may recall is supposed to be awkward and uncomfortable with romance and uncertain of his feelings for Atom) smoothly performs a love duet and ballroom dance scene with Atom, rather than awkwardly delivering a few stiff lines

Rather than the whole class teasing Atom about a drag performance in a way that displayed a subtle form of systemic bias, they had three bullies be blatantly homophobic and get singled out as bad apples

These choices are not just bad because they're different, they're bad because they undermine characterization and the internal logic and themes of the story. Some of this just plain doesn't make sense, and I no longer wonder why Fourth and Gemini are struggling in these roles when their characters are not consistently grounded. If they wanted a generic high school show to make more quick money off this cast, I really wish they would have left Kieta Hatsukoi out of it.

#my love mix up th #thai bl #kieta hatsukoi spoilers #shan shouts into the void

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mrchiipchrome · 10 months

Note

prompt 68 with KCC 😉

If you want to request, there's a prompt list linked in my masterlist:)

prompt 68. -It’s nice to have you back, where you belong.

----------------

“Ky I miss you so much” Despite having spent basically the entire summer, well winter technically, in Australia together competing in the World Cup, you missed each other tremendously the second you were apart.

“I miss you even more Y/n/n. I miss your cuddles the most though.” The sweet girl sighs out, her cheeks puffing out adorably with her chin resting on one of her forearms. She’s clutching her pillow tightly, laying on her stomach.

Letting out a loud gasp in faux shock, you chastise her playfully for the comment.

“Kyra Cooney Cross, I cannot believe you. And to think I believed you liked me for more than just my body.” Her giggles fill your bedroom in London over the phone, her bright smile on the screen contrasting the dark nature of your room.

“Well you thought wrong, I’m clearly just using you for your body.” She rolls her eyes at you, picking at her nails uninterestedly, but you can see the small smile forming behind her hands.

“Yeah, yeah whatever you say pretty girl” Her hands come up to cover her face, blush apparent between her fingers.

“You think I’m pretty?” She questions as if the answer wasn’t already obvious, her beauty just one of the many aspects you loved about her.

“You’re the most gorgeous girl in the world lovely, you always have been and you always will be.” You tell her softly, gauging her reaction.

She once again just covers her face with her hands, her smile reaching her ears. Sighing, you look at the time on your phone, being an hour behind her, it was late over there in Sweden.

“Ky, it's time to go to bed.” You say seriously, her yawn nearly cutting the last of your sentence off. She was clearly exhausted from the long days, like you were. Living without each other was a death sentence, slowly killing you both.

“Just stay on the call until I’ve fallen asleep would you? It’s so hard to sleep without you here.”

“Sure my love, but if Arsenal come knocking for ya then you have to accept, I don’t know how much longer I can live without you by my side.”

The smirk on her face only widens at your words, oh you clearly had no idea.

—----

You were unfocused, that was pretty clear for everyone to see. You were missing even the simplest of passes and you could probably store both of your boots in the bags under your eyes, dark blue and incredibly prominent.

Two sleepless nights in a row created by pure worry was why you were so unfocused. Kyra hadn’t spoken to you in days, not even as much as a text that told you she was alive, she had simply disappeared off the face of the earth.

Rubbing your eyes in an attempt to wake up that much more, the worry set deep in your mind didn’t falter the slightest bit. Not even when the comforting hand of your captain comes down to rest on your upper back, moving up and down soothingly.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“Mhm, just a little tired.” You tell her softly, chin resting on your forearm lightly.

“Yeah, well I think Jonas has someone you might want to meet, with him.” Your head perks up, snapping towards the shorter woman, eyes wide open.

“What do you mean?” Kim just smiles at you, nodding her head to the right where a majority of the team is crowded around someone.

In between black clad bodies, you can just see the familiar outline of the person you love the most, hands waving around animatedly.

In an instant you’re on your feet, slipping and sliding across the grass in your hurry to get up from your sitting position, hands flat on the ground. When you get up on your feet properly you set off in what can only be described as a jaguar-like run, reaching the mob of people in no-time.

The girl in the middle squeals when she gets picked up all of a sudden, familiar arms wrapping around her waist from behind. The squeals turn into laughter that echoes around the training grounds, her hands clutching around yours.

“Why didn’t you call me, lovely? I was worried sick about you.” You tell her softly, hands moving from her waist to her face, moving her head around softly as if you were trying to convince yourself she was real. “I was so worried about you, don’t ever do that again please.” She gets pulled into your body once again, your arms wrapping around her tightly.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to surprise you. I won’t do it again, I promise.” She mumbles into the material of your shirt, her hands clutching onto the elastics of your shorts, fingers pressing into the skin of your stomach.

Pulling away from her body, you place your hands on her jaw, cupping her face softly. You can’t help but just look at her, admire her in such a way you hadn’t been able to in weeks.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Her nose scrunches up in that adorable way that had you falling in love with her all over again.

“Like what?” She looks up at you through furrowed brows, a light blush dusting her tanned cheeks.

“Like you’re in love with me.” Kyra whispers into the vacant air, your teammates having left you long ago.

“That’s because I am in love with you silly. Kyra?” She hums in response, waiting for you to continue. “It’s nice to have you back, where you belong.” The shorter girl buries her head into your chest, the earlier blush having darkened significantly.

“It’s nice to be back by your side too Y/n/n.”

#woso #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross x reader #auswnt x reader

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honeypiehotchner · 1 year

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Devil's Backbone (Unsub!Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part ten

I listened to the stripped version of "Good Looking" a lotttt starting around now as I wrote this fic. It's perfect for how the reader is beginning to feel, the sadness and confusion, remembering how Hotch was and realizing how she no longer knows him 😭😭

Warnings: things are beginning to unravel

Follow @honeypiehotchnerlibrary and turn on post notifications to be "tagged" when a new chapter goes up!

Ten: The skyline falls as I try to make sense of it all -- "Good Looking" by Suki Waterhouse

“Hotch said he didn’t have any of the files, JJ,” Dave said, stepping into her office. The two of them spoke on the phone last night, as promised, and Dave wanted to give JJ the update first thing in the morning, as promised. “He said he had older ones.” He listed the names off and JJ nodded along.

“I have those accounted for,” she said, looking at her computer, shaking her head. “I know he had those. The others are probably in here somewhere. It’s just weird.”

“I agree,” Rossi said. Files didn’t disappear randomly. If some were taken or even copied, JJ was notified, and she logged it. “But we’ll figure it out.”

“Did you look through Hotch’s office?” JJ suggested. She seemed hesitant to even ask, chewing on her nails after proposing the question.

“No,” Rossi said. “Should we?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, should we?”

Rossi thought it over. Strauss’s concern. Your odd reaction to his questions. Hotch’s strange character every time Rossi called. None of it made any sense. Rossi assumed it was grief, just like you told him, just like he told himself, that maybe it was Hotch even trying to convince himself that he was feeling better than he was. But there was a nagging feeling deep in his chest that he couldn’t get rid of.

“Yeah,” Rossi finally said. “I’ll go look.” He knew how it looked and felt: like an invasion of Aaron’s privacy. But this was becoming too convoluted to worry about privacy.

Rossi went back into the bullpen, glad to see you sitting at your desk already. He tapped your shoulder as he went by, nodding his head up to the second level.

You got up and followed, assuming he was going to his office. Your heart began hammering in your chest when Rossi stopped outside Hotch’s office. No one had been in there since Hotch left. It was locked.

You watched in terror as Rossi took out his keys and let himself into Hotch’s office, flicking the light switch.

You walked inside slowly, your voice low as you asked, “What are you doing?”

“What I don’t want to be doing,” Rossi replied in a hiss, pinching the bridge of his nose. He gestured toward you. “Shut the door.”

You closed the door and pulled the blinds for good measure. Or to help your paranoia. You had a bad feeling in your stomach and a bad taste in your mouth. “Rossi, what the hell is going on?”

“JJ can’t find a few files,” he replied, stopping in front of Aaron’s desk facing you, placing his hands on his hips.

“I know, she told me--”

“One of them she can’t find is Issac Holman.”

“What?” That was not right. That had to be a bad coincidence. The file showed up missing and Holman was dead? Impossible. Too eerie to be a coincidence.

“Another one missing is Nicholas Edwards,” Rossi continued. “He died two days ago. Shot in the back of the head, executioner style.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell us?” That was a brutal method; it was necessary to alert the team.

“Because I didn’t want to say anything just yet,” Rossi replied. His fuming eyes landed on you next. “I need you to come clean with me.”

Fear shot through you so hard that you took a step back from him. “What?”

“When I called you into my office a couple of days ago, you acted like I was interrogating you when I asked simple questions,” Rossi recalled, stepping closer to you. “What did you and Aaron talk about? Tell me the truth. Right now.”

You shook your head. This was a nightmare. This was not happening to you. “Rossi--”

“Agent L/N, I am ordering you,” he pressed, raising his voice. He stepped closer, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Tell me. This is bigger than whatever secrets you might have, so I need you to get over it and--”

“We had sex!” you blurted, shame rising in your chest like flames, burning their way to your neck. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Stunned, Rossi struggled to find words, eyes blinking and jaw opening and closing. “You-- Are-- Are you two seeing each other?”

“No,” you replied, your face burning with embarrassment. You wished that was the reason behind the sex, that it was a sweet, romantic, domestic relationship you were hiding. “He kicked me out. He wanted nothing to do with me. Can we move on now?”

“Yeah,” Rossi said, turning around slowly. “Help me look for any files he kept in here. Holman and Edwards might be in them.”

You nodded, glad your failed fling with your boss was forgotten for the moment. “Why would they be in here?”

“He liked to go over them afterwards,” Rossi explained.

“Yeah, I know.” You turned to look on the side tables by the couch, but there were only random magazines, no doubt put there by someone else. Strauss probably put them there one day to liven the place up a bit.

Rossi studied one section of Aaron’s desk against the back wall. “This is empty.”

You leaned over. “Yeah.” You stared at it, eyebrows furrowing. “He used to have a lot of books and…” Files. You remember. You watched him close his briefcase as he said he was sorry but you knew he didn’t mean it.

Rossi turned and looked at you, the same haunted expression on his face. “He took them with him.”

You nodded slowly, your hand covering your mouth. “I watched him take them.” You paused, a sick feeling settling into your bones. “Rossi…what is going on?”

“I don’t know,” Rossi said slowly, shaking his head. “I don’t know.”

But he knew. You both knew. Neither of you wanted to admit it.

+++

Aaron was washing the blood off his hands in the unsub’s bathroom sink.

He didn’t mean for that much blood to be shed, but he got carried away. The unsub fought back harder than Aaron expected him to. One punch led to another and then Aaron had flashbacks to George Foyet. The unsub’s face no longer existed. It was only Foyet, and Aaron got revenge. Again. And again.

Unfortunately, it made a mess of the fucking bedroom. Thankfully, none of Aaron’s blood was shed. He caught a few blows to his chest and abdomen, but none to the face, none that bled, not like the unsub bled all over the goddamn place. Aaron knew the human body carried 5 liters of blood -- thanks to Reid -- but it looked like much more.

He needed to leave as soon as possible, so he settled for cleaning his hands thoroughly and forgetting the rest.

He rode back to his home in Quantico in silence. No music, no news. He needed to think.

But thinking only landed him in places he didn’t want to be, so he stopped. He stopped for food and carried on back to Quantico to get his things together.

He had one more unsub to hunt, and it wouldn’t be easy. The fucker ran from him once, he assumed he would do it again. So, Aaron needed to be careful and meticulous about this one. It would take longer than a weekend getaway.

+++

You were called into Strauss’s office the following day. You knew it wasn’t good, but you knew that even before you saw Rossi sitting in one of her chairs, fingers pressed to his temple.

“You called for me, ma’am?” you asked, shutting her office door behind you.

“Yes,” Strauss rounded her desk, gesturing to one of the empty seats on her couch. “Sit.”

This is not good. You did as you were told, sitting on the very edge of the cushion. Rossi refused to look at you, and it made your stomach turn. You took a deep breath.

“What do you know of Hotch’s whereabouts?” Strauss asked conversationally. She went over to her minifridge and grabbed a bottle of water.

“Uh, he’s at his apartment, I guess?” you replied, taking the water from her.

“You guess?” Strauss pressed.

You chuckled awkwardly. “Ma’am, with all due respect, I don’t know where Agent Hotchner is. We haven’t spoken since he left.”

Strauss laughed as she sat down across from you. “Well, Dave told me you did speak to Aaron.”

You looked at Rossi with wide eyes, sensing betrayal, but he shook his head only slightly. So he told her the truth, but not the full truth.

“I went to his apartment to offer condolences,” you said. “And to check on how he was doing.”

“And how was he doing?”

“He seemed fine,” you shrugged, putting the water down on her coffee table. “What is this about?”

Strauss sighed. “Agent Hotchner’s behavior has been worrying me since the day I sent him home,” she said. “Now, supposedly, he needs to get away, with no phone, no devices. And frankly, I cannot let him do that.”

You looked at Rossi, your eyebrows furrowed. “Where is he going? What is he thinking?”

“I don’t know,” Rossi replied. “He wouldn’t tell me. Just that he is heading out tomorrow morning.”

You turned back to Strauss. “Ma’am, I had no idea--”

“I know,” she stopped you with her hand in the air. “I don’t care to know the details of your relationship with Agent Hotchner. I hope there aren’t any details. But seeing as you are someone he trusts, I need you to follow him.”

“Follow him?”

“Yes. See where he goes. If it’s nothing troubling, you will return to the BAU. This is a private assignment and you are not to discuss this with anyone outside of this room, do you understand?”

You nodded. “I do.”

You felt like you were signing your life away.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #unsub!hotch x fem!reader #unsub!hotch x reader #unsub!hotch x you #unsub!hotch #unsub!hotch fanfiction #unsub!hotch fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 1 year

Text

Something There (Chapter 5)

8.0k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, some angsty talk about retirement, adults getting drunk, drunken spiciness🌶️🌶️🌶️

Author's Note: My fingers kept typing without me so this came out a bit longer than I intended. Also, I don't tend to write spice or smut, so hopefully this isn't too awful 🫣

And major thanks to @agentstarkid for the Broncos joke! 🩷🩷🩷

Series Masterlist

Keeley Jones was persistent, I had to give her that. When she’d originally asked about helping me find a dress for the charity gala, I gave a little “Yeah, sure”, figuring she was just being polite. Instead, she hounded me until I set aside the Wednesday afternoon before the event so she could turn me into her personal Barbie doll. Lucas pouted when I asked him to take over training, complaining that he wanted to be there for my “Cinderella moment”, but he agreed once I promised to let him pick me up for the event so he could be the first to see the finished product.

As though she expected me to bail, Keeley marched out to the pitch at our appointed meeting time, promising to send Lucas lots of pictures as she pulled me off the field; my players, knowing where I was going, whistled and hollered boisterously, calling for me to “find something pretty!”

“Back to work!” I barked, unable to hide the grin on my face, pleased that they were comfortable enough to tease me.

We walked briskly through the building, with Keeley listing off all the stores she wanted to take me to, asking me about what colors I liked, and stalking through my Instagram to see what kinds of dresses I’d worn in the past. I was so immersed in looking over her shoulder and pointing out what I liked about certain outfits, I didn’t notice someone in my path until I’d crashed into them.

“Fuck, sorry,” I yelped, looking up.

Roy Kent raised those thick eyebrows at me as I took a step back. “Cutting training early?” There was an edge of teasing in his voice, an almost friendly tone.

“We’re going dress shopping,” Keeley announced, a Cheshire-cat grin on her face. “This one needs something for the gala.” She poked Roy in the chest coyly. “You’ll be there, right, Roy?”

He rolled his eyes. “Like I have a fucking choice,” he mumbled. He returned his gaze to me. “Your players ready to be auctioned off like pieces of meat?”

I shook my head. “Oh, we’re not doing that.”

“I’m sorry?” His brows furrowed in confusion.

“I told Rebecca that selling dates with women felt kind of gross.” I wrinkled my nose. “So, we’re sponsoring a silent auction instead. Season tickets, signed jerseys, that sort of thing. Some of the gals pitched in for things like trips and wine tastings. I even got some of your guys to sign things to auction off.” I couldn’t help but grin. “My personal favorite item is a ball signed by the 1991 U.S. women’s team. Had to call in a few favors for that one.”

To my surprise, Roy chuckled. “Does that include Brandi Chastain?”

I scoffed in surprise. It was the second time now that he’d shown off that he remembered my poster. “Why yes, it does.”

Keeley was watching us with far too much interest. “We should get going,” she hummed, tearing my attention away from Roy. She quirked an eyebrow at the gruff manager. “Roy,” she started slowly, her voice playful. “What do you think Bucky’d look sexy in?”

We both choked on her question. I gave her a wide-eyed stare. What the fuck, Keeley?

Roy, just as red-faced as I knew I was, seemed to be looking everywhere but my face. “What? Fuck, I dunno. Why the fuck would I know?”

“Just thought you’d have an opinion,” Keeley purred. “We’ll see you later.” She linked her arm through mine and tugged me onwards.

Unable to help myself, I glanced back at Roy, who was staring after us, mouth slightly open. When he saw me looking at him, he shook his head violently, as if trying to rid himself of whatever thoughts ran through his mind.

I wondered if he could see how deeply I was blushing.

“The fuck was that?” I hissed to Keeley as we made our way to the parking lot, where Keeley’s sleek little convertible was waiting for us.

She shrugged casually. “What? Just wanted a man’s opinion.”

I snorted as I climbed into Keeley’s car. “We don’t need a man’s opinion.”

“Babe,” Keeley said in a patient voice. “Number one, wanting a man to think you look good doesn’t make you a bad feminist, alright? Number two-” Her eyes lit up as she pulled out of the parking lot. “-don’t you think Roy’s mad fit?”

My face warmed. “What, do you think he is?” I wasn’t sure why the thought made something in my stomach twist.

“Oh of course. Roy’s gorgeous,” she giggled. “We used to date, actually.” She eyed me carefully, as if gauging my reaction to that piece of information; I did my best to keep a neutral face. “But we’re much better as friends, trust me. He’s actually one of my best friends now.”

“Oh.” Why couldn’t I say anything else?

Keeley continued. “He’s a great guy. Like, I could write a glowing letter of recommendation to any potential partner.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “Anything you want to know?”

“Why would I want to know anything about Roy Kent as a boyfriend?” I scoffed, maybe a bit too much protest in my voice.

Keeley’s voice was suspiciously sweet. “Oh, no reason.”

“Hi, Coach Kent!” A few voices called as Roy strolled onto the pitch.

Roy gave a curt nod to the passing Whippets. They were nice women, very friendly, great athletes, got along well with his Greyhounds. But they giggled at him. Well, a couple of them did. Mostly Samara Scott and Kira Malone. Sometimes a few others. He wasn’t sure why, or even when it started, but when they crossed paths with him there were raised eyebrows and knowing smirks and whispers and giggles. It couldn’t be an “isn’t he cute?” thing; these ladies had no problem telling the Greyhounds to their faces when they thought the guys looked good, offering compliments the lads were more than happy to reciprocate.

No, it was as if the Whippets knew something. Or at least, they thought they did. Roy just couldn’t figure out what the fuck it was.

“Oi, Lucas.”

The assistant coach stopped mid-step to turn to Roy. “What’s up, Coach?”

Roy shuffled his feet as he watched the Whippets disappear into the building. “What’s up with your team?”

Lucas tilted his head. “How d’you mean?”

“They…” Roy felt stupid saying it out loud. “They always fucking giggle when they see me.” His face was warm with embarrassment.

“Oh.” Lucas laughed, adding to Roy’s frustration and curiosity. “No, you don’t want to know.”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Come on, man. I have an entire team snickering like children every time they see me. Fuck’s going on?”

Lucas gave a dry chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Well, I mean, it’s only a couple of them giggling,” he pointed out. “And, I mean, I dunno, not to stereotype, but you know how women can be. Mysterious and shit.”

“Lucas.” Roy’s voice was stern; it was obvious the man knew more than he was letting on.

“It’s because they can’t giggle at their own manager.” Coach Beard’s voice made Roy nearly leap out of his skin; when had he become so fucking jumpy? Beard went on. “So, they’re giggling at you instead.”

Roy’s frown deepened as the Greyhounds straggled onto the training pitch. “Right, but why? What the fuck is so damn funny?”

To everyone’s surprise, Nate spoke up. “Well, you know, some of the players… they think you and-and Coach Buck…”

“What about me and Coach Buck?” Roy felt himself beginning to fume, suspecting what direction this was headed in.

“The two of you want to shag,” Jamie chirped as he strolled by.

Roy reached out and grabbed the back of Jamie’s shirt, choking the striker a little as he yanked him backwards. “What the fuck did you just say?” Everyone except Beard looked nervous now.

Jamie cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt. “You and Coach Buck,” he blurted out. “Everyone thinks you fancy each other.”

“We. Don’t. Fucking. Fancy. Each. Other.” Roy growled out each word slowly, emphatically. “Can’t fucking stand each other, you all know that. So, knock this shit off. And tell the Whippets the same thing, alright?” He raised his voice. “Laps until you puke. GO! WHISTLE!”

Lucas cleared his throat as the Greyhounds began running. “Um, Coach Kent, can I go now?” He jerked his head towards the building. “Kind of got my own team to work with.”

He regretted speaking up when Roy whirled around on him. “She hates me, right?” Roy’s voice was low; he wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted to be right.

“Uhh…” Lucas squirmed. “I mean, she probably wouldn’t be sobbing uncontrollably at your funeral, but she probably won’t be the direct the cause of your death either.”

Roy wasn’t quite sure what to do with that answer. “Right.” He blinked at Lucas, who offered up what he hoped was an innocent smile. “D’you think we should shag?”

“Gotta take me to dinner first, Coach.” Lucas nudged him and winked. He chuckled at Roy’s amused expression before turning to walk away. “See ya later.”

Roy shook his head. He wasn’t quite sure what the fuck everyone was on about, but he knew it was going to be all he could think about during training.

As we wandered through department stores, I realized that Keeley was very much in her element. Between her modeling and PR experiences, helping a friend find a flattering dress felt like something Keeley could do in her sleep. In the time it took me to find one dress I thought might look good on me, she had already grabbed about a dozen.

In our third store, Keeley declared she knew I’d find a dress here. I wasn’t so sure, but her confidence dared me to defy her. So, I hung up the dresses she had chosen in my fitting room and peeled off my sportwear in favor of sequins and lace and satin.

She demanded to see each dress, taking photos to send to Lucas, whose quick responses had me grumbling, “Who’s running my fucking practice?”

It was starting to get frustrating. I was attractive as hell; I knew I had what Keeley called a “bangin’ bod”, thanks to years of working out. And it wasn’t as if I’d never dressed up. I’d been to awards banquets and charity events, even the fucking White House. I liked dressing up and feeling pretty. But for some reason, this stupid gala had me scrutinizing every single dress I tried on.

“Here, babe, I’ve got one I think you’re going to love.” Keeley threw another dress over the door.

Wondering if I would ever find anything I genuinely liked, I tugged it on and took a tentative look in the mirror. Fuck.

“Keels, you should add personal shopper to your resumé,” I hollered, unable to contain my grin. I turned this way and that, amazed by the view. Black. Strapless. Plunging neckline. Tight. And a gorgeous thigh-high slit that perfectly straddled the line between tasteful and indecent.

When I stepped out of the fitting room, Keeley’s jaw practically hit the floor. “Oh, I am brilliant!” she squealed. “Give us a twirl, I’m gonna send Lucas a video.”

Feeling almost princess-like, I did as Keeley asked, blowing Lucas a kiss at the end. When Keeley showed me the video, I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my lips.

“Wonder what Roy would think of this video,” she hummed, eyebrows raised.

My smile faded. “Why the fuck would you show Kent that video?”

She shrugged, her slender fingers tracing the exterior of her phone teasingly. “I won’t. I want him to get the full effect when he sees you walk through the doors on Saturday.” Her face softened. “He thinks you’re pretty,” she added.

“Does fucking not.” Could she hear my breath hitch?

“Well, I think he does,” she backtracked. “Pretty sure he has a crush on someone, and I’m pretty sure it’s you.” She grinned. “Could hardly keep his eyes off of you at your first match. Can’t really blame him, you looked gorgeous, all sexy and badass.” She gave me the onceover. “And when he sees you in this, well…” She winked at me. “Game over, coaches.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “If I tell you to fuck off, can we still grab dinner after this?”

“Oh absolutely, my treat,” she assured me, steering me back into the fitting room so I could change out of the dress. “But I’m definitely not fucking off about this.”

Roy frowned at the mirror. He hated the gala. Well, he liked the open bar and free food. He almost enjoyed the spectacle of watching his friends get auctioned off now that he was safe from the meat market. And he didn’t mind opening up his wallet to help underprivileged children. But fuck, he hated dressing up. The red carpet. The dancing. The well-to-do pricks who felt like he owed them his time just because they inherited their money or made it in the stock market or some other posh shit while he earned his by kicking around a football.

And now he hated the way he criticized his reflection and the way his mind wandered to her. What would she be wearing? Keeley had taken her shopping, so something stunning, no doubt. Not that she needed a dress to look gorgeous. His heart hammered in his chest just seeing her in her running shorts and sports bra after work. Maybe he’d actually have that heart attack Keeley had mentioned when he saw her at the gala.

And what would she think when she saw him? Roy thought he was still a good-looking guy. Sure, maybe a little gray here and there, and he hadn’t had defined a six pack in years, but he was still attractive. Women still liked him. And with his black suit and hair almost managed and beard freshly trimmed, he thought he looked pretty fucking good.

But why the fuck did he care if she thought so? What the fuck, Roy?

He spent the whole ride over to the venue trying to turn his focus to other things. Work. The auction. Yoga. Phoebe’s most recent school play. His upcoming dentist appointment. That phone call from Ted that he needed to return. That phone call from his mother that he would not return because she’d just ask him if he was seeing anyone lately.

But his stupid, stupid brain just kept wondering what she would be wearing and what she would think when she saw him.

As soon as the car stopped, Roy handed some cash to the driver and hopped out. Just like every year, there were the fucking paparazzi, lined up to take pictures and shout asinine questions at people who just wanted to get inside and grab a free drink.

He stood at the edge of the red carpet, watching Rebecca pose for photos, so much more poised and confident than she’d been her first time hosting the gala on her own. Roy felt a surge of pride as he observed his friend; he’d seen her grow so much over the past few years, and she’d helped him to grow as well. He hated the idea that he’d been disappointing her lately with his behavior. He promised himself he’d do better. Do things the Richmond way.

“Lookin’ good, Coach.” Jamie clapped a hand on Roy’s shoulder; behind him stood Dani, whose arm was wrapped around a dolled-up Whippet, and Colin, who held hands with Michael.

“Fellas,” Roy greeted with a curt nod. He warily eyed the red carpet, knowing he couldn’t avoid it for long, before his eyes wandered in the direction everyone was arriving from.

“Bucky’s not here yet,” the Whippet- Esme?- pipped up when she noticed his lingering stare towards the line of cars. “She texted me that she’s running a bit late.”

Roy narrowed his eyes at her. “Not sure why I need to know that,” he mumbled. Not wanting an answer to that, he turned around for his annual speedwalk down the red carpet, calling out various combinations of “fuck” and “no” and “you” to the reporters.

He was finally inside, safe from the reporters, but not safe from the knowing looks of his friends and colleagues. Against his better judgement, he approached Keeley at the bar, who greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.

“Don’t you look lovely,” she murmured, giving Roy the once-over and straightening his tie. When he rolled his eyes and grumbled nonsense under his breath, she shook her head. “No, really, Roy. You look quite handsome.”

“Thanks,” he managed. He quickly gave a drink order to the bartender, then leaned against the bar, watching as people wandered in, everyone dressed to the nines. He had just turned to grab his drink when he saw Keeley perk up.

“Lucas! Bucky! Over here!” She waved towards the entrance.

Roy bit back an annoyed groan, then turned around and bit back a definitely-not-annoyed groan.

Fuck.

Arm in arm with Lucas, the Whippet’s manager strolled towards the bar. And, probably to no one’s surprise, she was fucking gorgeous. Hair down and wavy and framing her face angelically, looking better than any model Roy’d ever dated, lips red and so fucking kissable, she was wearing the hell out of a black dress that- for a brief moment- Roy thought would look damn good on his bedroom floor.

What the fuck?

Roy turned his attention to chugging his drink as fast as he could, hoping the answer to what was wrong with him was at the bottom of the glass. He found no answers there, but at least he was able to stop himself from ogling the beautiful manager as she approached.

“Babes, I told you that dress would be perfect!” he heard Keeley gush as she hugged the American. “And you, Lucas, very dapper.” She elbowed Roy, urging him to face the Whippets’ coaches. “Don’t they look great Roy?”

He finally had to force himself to look at her. She gazed up at him expectantly, her red, red lips slightly parted, eyes a little wider than he was used to seeing. Roy ignored the annoying feeling that they were being watched by more than just Keeley and Lucas.

“Coach Kent,” she greeted shortly. Her eyes searched his, as if she were asking him to take the lead and set the tone for their interaction.

“You… look… nice,” he managed, wondering if she could see his eyes straining to avoid trailing down her figure, the way he often let them wander during their silent evening runs on the treadmills.

She nodded. “You too,” she replied, fingers fidgeting on her clutch. “I, um, like your suit.”

Roy unconsciously licked his lips. “Thanks. I like your…” Fuck, he just noticed the slit. “Dress,” he finally blurted.

Her shy smile was almost enough to make Roy squirm. “Thanks.” She cleared her throat and patted Lucas’s arm. “Let’s go check out the silent auction before we sit down.” Her eyes returned to Roy. “See you guys later.”

In spite of himself, Roy watched her walk away, letting himself appreciate the way her dress hugged her figure as she walked. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten Keeley was leering at him.

“Oi, Kent,” she teased, nudging his shoulder with hers. “Pick your damn jaw off the floor.”

He brought his hand to his chin, realizing his mouth was indeed agape.

Fuck.

Fuck Roy Kent for looking so fucking good, I thought as Lucas and I perused the silent auction. It didn’t take a psychic to know he’d be in all black, but I hadn’t expected my knees to actually go weak at the sight of the man. I tried to tell myself it was because I was nervous that he’d start an argument about the silent auction or something, but deep down I knew it was because the stupid, feral part of my brain wanted to tug Roy by his black tie and take him straight to my apartment.

“See anything you like?” Lucas hummed, shooting me a not-so-sly wink when he caught me glancing over mt shoulder.

I gave a casual little shrug. “The 1991 ball is pretty awesome,” I murmured coolly. “Might put down a bid.”

Lucas elbowed me sharply. “You sure you wouldn’t rather bid on R-”

“Luke,” I warned in my most dangerously low voice, giving his tie a tug. “I will grab one of those butter knives and cut your tongue out if you finish that sentence.”

“So violent,” he tsked. “The two of you really are a match made him heaven.”

Before I could make another threat, Rebecca hurried over and wrapped me in a hug. “You came!”

“Of course,” I laughed, squeezing her back before letting go. “It’s in my contract.”

She winked at me. “You’re damn right it is.” She gave Lucas a quick kiss on the cheek. “You two look great. Americans clean up very well, apparently.” Her gaze lingered over the silent auction tables. “Excellent job with this, by the way. I took a quick peek, there’s already some big bids being put down.” She laid a hand on my arm, giving me a squeeze. “I’m very proud of you.”

And I knew she didn’t just mean the auction.

“Now then, you two are at table nine.” She gestured towards the tables, where people were beginning to settle for dinner. “You, me, Keeley, and all the coaches.”

“All the coaches,” I echoed, forcing a tight smile. “Of course.”

When we approached the table, I tried to make a beeline for the open seat next to Coach Beard, but Lucas immediately engaged Beard in conversation and stole the seat. That left just the spot on Lucas’s other side- next to Roy.

It was like everyone at Nelson Road had conspired to force Roy Kent and me into close proximity.

He gave me a curt nod as I sat beside him. “You decide who I have to dance with yet?”

Oh. Right. My team had won the charity game; I got to pick someone for Roy to dance with during the gala. I hadn’t even given it a single thought, assuming he wouldn’t bring it up and hold himself to our bet.

“Still thinking on it,” I answered. “Any requests?”

He gestured towards a nearby table, where an older woman was blowing kisses to a perturbed Jamie. “Not that old bird,” he hissed. “Won me in the auction one year. Had to go on a date with her, and it was the worst night of my fucking life.”

I couldn’t help myself. “You shag her?”

To my amazement, a smile appeared on his face. “Look at you, speaking our English. Maybe there is hope for you Yanks after all.”

I ignored the butterflies that appeared in my stomach. “But if I pick her,” I clarified slowly, “you will dance with her?”

His glare was playful. “Now, why would you go and ruin all our progress? We almost tolerate each other now. If we were any friendlier, Rebecca’d give us a fucking raise.”

Dinner was surprisingly painless and unsurprisingly delicious. I found myself actually enjoying chatting with Roy Kent. He pointed out the rich people at other tables and told Lucas and me horror stories about some of the auction dates he’d gone on.

“Oi, Coach Buck.” Jamie Tartt knelt down next to me, wearing a very stylish suit and a serious expression.

“Hi Jamie,” I greeted. “You look nice.”

He nodded. “I know.” He glanced up at Roy, who was rolling his eyes, before turning back to me. “Wanted to ask… How well d’you know your players?”

“Um, pretty well, I guess.” I frowned. “Why?”

His pretty face turned shy. “I was wondering about Kira. Is she… a Denver Broncos fan?”

My frown deepened. I knew Kira better than most of the Whippets; she’d played for me for one season before coming to England and playing for Arsenal for a couple of years. I wracked my brain for this random piece of trivia that was apparently very important, according to the look on Jamie’s face. “Well,” I started slowly. “She grew up near Pittsburgh, so she probably likes the Steelers. Don’t quote me on that, though.”

Jamie cocked his head, eyebrows furrowed. “The fuck does that mean?”

Roy rolled his eyes. “He’s not asking about football,” he muttered. “He wants to know if she likes men.”

“Oh.” I turned to Jamie. “Yeah, Kira’s into men.”

The beaming smile on Jamie’s face was infectious. “Mint. Thanks, Coaches.” He planted a sweet kiss on my cheek, then turned to Roy, eyebrow quirked teasingly.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Roy growled.

With a “Right, right,” Jamie practically skipped back table six, where he scooted his chair a smidge closer to Kira Malone’s; the pleasure on her face was visible even from where we sat.

“What the hell was with the Denver Broncos crap?” I asked Roy.

He shrugged. “Lasso shit,” he mumbled. “You’re better off not knowing, trust me.”

Surprisingly, I did trust him. “Alright, I know who you’re dancing with.”

Roy grimaced. “It’s the pervy old woman, innit?”

“Nope.” I pointed to table six. “Jamie Tartt.”

His laughter brought a deep blush to my cheeks. “You’re fucking vile.”

This had to be Roy’s favorite thing about being a coach. Sure, it was a gift to get to still be close to the game he loved so much. And yeah, helping players grow and become their best selves was fulfilling and shit.

But fuck, he loved getting to watch the auction and not be one of the prizes.

He whooped and hollered along with everyone else as each Greyhound took the stage, enjoying the alternating horror and delight on their faces when they saw the people who’d won them. There was something very sweet about witnessing Colin’s surprised expression when Michael won him, and he couldn’t resist adding to the particularly flirtatious hollers when Kira Malone placed an unsuccessful bid on Jamie Tartt.

Once Rebecca declared the auction a success and reminded everyone about the silent auction that would be continuing throughout the evening, people began moving to the dance floor. Good on his promise, and without prompting, Roy grabbed Jamie Tartt by the back of his shirt and dragged him away from Kira Malone, determined to get this over with.

Even above the music, Roy could hear a familiar laugh as he swayed to a fast song with Jamie, who, after his initial confusion, danced with genuine enthusiasm. Even Roy couldn’t resist cracking a smile when his former teammate asked Roy to give him a twirl- which, to everyone’s surprise, Roy obliged.

Once the song ended, the two men shook hands warmly, and Roy sent Jamie on his way to go ask Kira Malone for a dance.

Roy found Coach Bucky at the bar, sipping a drink. “Satisfied?” he asked.

“Extremely.” He tried not to focus too much on the way her lips looked wrapped around the little black straw.

“Good.” He stood next to her, leaning against the bar. “Can’t believe your team got out of the live auction. Such a double standard.” He hoped she could hear the teasing in his voice.

Her chuckle told him she did. “Well, when my girls make as much money as your boys, then we can talk about double standards.”

Roy shrugged. “That’s fair.” The two of them stood there, side-by-side, watching their players mingle and drink and dance. Roy wondered if she was also remembering that night at the club, the night that set the tone for all of their interactions. He felt kind of stupid when he remembered it; he should have been polite and asked her to dance. Things could be so different.

“Babes, come dance with us!” Before Roy could get the courage to do it himself, Keeley had come over and grabbed the American by the hand.

She turned and placed her empty glass in Roy’s hand. “That better be full when I get back,” she called over her shoulder as Keeley dragged her off.

She was coming back.

Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, but Roy found himself unable to keep his eyes off of her. The way she smiled, the way her hips moved, the way she looked in that dress. He let his mind wander to places he’d been avoiding since that first day in the changing room. Wondering what it’d be like to kiss those red lips, to have her arms wrapped around him, to see her in his bed. He liked those thoughts, despite what he’d spent months telling himself. He really liked them.

Not sure what to do with those thoughts, Roy distracted himself by pulling Beard over and chatting about nothing in particular, not really caring that his assistant coach could see his wandering eyes.

As the night wore on, she did eventually return, a few times actually, and Roy had a fresh drink ready for her each time. She’d stand by him and sip her drink, they’d talk about mundane things like the songs that played or the Greyhounds and Whippets that danced together, and they’d both wonder if the other could feel the tension between them that grew with each round of drinks they shared.

Late into the night, Keeley approached the managers, eyes sparkling mischievously. “Hey, you two,” she greeted carefully. “I’ve got a killer idea.”

Roy eyed her warily. “What?”

“Rebecca and I thought it’d be cute if our two managers shared a dance. Nice little photo op.” When she saw their faces sour, her voice turned stern. “Especially since they completely and totally owe me one.”

Right. They’d ruined her photoshoot.

“Fucking fine,” Roy muttered, as if the idea didn’t make his heartrate quicken. He downed his drink and slammed the glass on the bar, almost hard enough to break it. He held out his hand to the manager, whose sudden doe-eyes made his mouth go dry. “Let’s go.”

To his surprise, she didn’t protest or make a snarky comment. Not even a playful one. Instead, she took his hand and followed him to the dance floor; he wondered if her fingers also tingled the moment their hands touched.

Roy wasn’t sure if the fact that it was a slow song made things better or worse. But he did kind of like the way her hands rested at the nape of his neck, and he didn’t entirely hate the way her lower back felt under his hesitant grip. And he didn’t mind too much when she took his left hand in her right, holding them close to his hammering heart.

Three minutes. It was three minutes of her body pressed close to his, of letting himself stare at her and not caring that she or anyone else could see, three minutes of wondering what was going through her mind and hoping it was the same kinds of things he was thinking.

And those three minutes ended entirely too soon.

“What time is it?” she murmured absently. Seemingly without hesitation, she grabbed his wrist and held it up so she could see his watch.

“Scared your carriage’ll turn back into a pumpkin?” he teased, his mind begging her to stay so Keeley could force them to continue dancing.

She shrugged, eyebrows raised. “Dunno. Was kind of thinking of calling it a night.” After the longest three seconds of Roy’s life, she added, “What about you?”

He nodded. “I mean, the guys call me grandad for a reason,” he joked. “It’s way past my bedtime.” He gulped. “Should we share a taxi?”

The ride to Roy’s house was surprisingly short. He probably didn’t even need to take a cab and most likely could have walked home. But part of me- probably the drunk part- felt glad he did.

When the car pulled up to his house, he gripped the door, then hesitated. His eyes bore into mine as he said the last thing I ever thought Roy Kent would say to me: “Want to come in for a drink?”

I was pretty sure I surprised both of us when I offered up a small “Yeah.”

He paid the driver, helped me out of the car, and laid his hand on my back as we walked up to his front door. It dawned on me that, aside from our silent after-work runs in the weight room, this was the first time we’d ever been alone together.

Not a big deal, I told myself. Just two colleagues sharing a drink. Late at night. Looking really fucking attractive.

A few months ago, I would have expected his house to have a bunch of upside-down crosses and a few coffins and skulls lying about. Instead, I found his house to be almost… cozy? There were photos of his sister and niece, a couple of plants, even a record player in one corner with vinyls stacked next to it.

Maybe he really deserved the “grandad” nickname.

I settled myself on the couch, placing my clutch on the coffee table that held far too many books to be tidy, but not enough to look cluttered. Roy disappeared into what I assumed was the kitchen and immediately popped his head back in.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” he said softly, an embarrassed grin on his lips. “I invited you for a drink, but all I’ve got is a fridge full of beer, half a bottle of tequila, and a brand-new bottle of scotch. Apparently, I am a shit host.”

“Scotch sounds good,” I assured him, for some reason unwilling to give him any excuse to send me home.

His smile told me he wasn’t going to. “Scotch then.” He nodded towards the record player. “You could put something on if you want,” he offered before disappearing again.

Feeling amused and curious, I went over and began perusing his record collection. It was a mix of old and new albums, all kinds of genres, some pretty surprising. I was looking at the back of one when Roy returned, holding two glasses.

I glanced over my shoulder. “Sam Cooke?”

He nodded as he sat down. “My grandad was a fan,” he explained. “That one was his, actually.”

With a small hum, I put the record on, the music immediately reminding me of my own grandparents. “Were you and your grandfather close?” I asked as I joined him on the couch, taking the glass he offered me.

“Very.” He took a sip of his drink. “You were close to yours, right? You mentioned him in your first press conference. Gave you your nickname.”

He remembered. “He was my best friend,” I murmured, leaning back into the couch. “Loved soccer and wanted me to love it too.” I let my finger trace the rim of my glass. “Saw me go to the Olympics. Didn’t see me become a coach.”

Roy studied me carefully as I took a drink. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hmm?”

He hesitated, as if trying to figure out how to phrase it. “Why the fuck are you retired? You don’t have my excuse of being old as shit. Fucking Rapinoe’s barely retiring, and I know for a fact she’s older than you.”

A dry chuckle escaped my lips, amused at his less than gentle phrasing. “I love soccer more than breathing. What d’you think would keep me from playing until I die?”

“You got hurt.” Not a question.

“I got hurt,” I confirmed. “Took a really bad tackle in an international friendly. Fucked my ankle.” I stuck out my chin, refusing to look pitiful in front of anyone, let alone Roy Kent. “They told me that with surgery and rehab and a lot of work I could play again, but I would never be the same. Eventually playing would destroy me, and I’d make it worse and fall into that ugly cycle of injury and rehab and becoming more and more useless on the field. And I refused to keep playing and keep getting hurt and becoming an easy target for commentators. So, I retired and became a coach. Stayed useful. Did it on my terms.”

Roy let out a sharp breath. “Fuck. Well, you’re less stubborn than me, I guess. I fell into that fucking cycle and kept playing and let myself become a fucking joke because I was too fucking proud to retire with dignity.”

I shook my head. “I was just a different kind of stubborn. Refused to play if I wasn’t at my best. Gave up the one thing I ever truly loved because I couldn’t do it my way.”

“We’re just a couple of stubborn pricks then,” Roy declared, lifting his drink.

I tapped my glass to his with a clink. “I don’t think anyone at Richmond would fight us on that.”

“Even if they did, we’d argue with them.”

“Definitely.”

We sat in silence, staring at our drinks, clearly not sure how to speak to one another for this long without shouting.

He finally opened his mouth. “D’you ever miss it?” His voice was softer than I’d ever heard it.

I nodded solemnly. “More than anything. You?”

“More than I miss being able to walk up the stairs without having to take a break,” he joked, clearly trying to avoid the heavy direction we were heading in. Noticing our now empty glasses, he silently picked them up and carried them to the kitchen. “Oi,” he called. “I have a fucking awful question for you. Whatever we say doesn’t leave this house, alright?”

“Can’t have anyone figure out we’re capable of getting along,” I teased. “We couldn’t get away with our screaming matches anymore.”

His smirk was wide when he returned. “Exactly.” He handed over my drink and resumed his seat, his serious expression returning. “D’you… ever hate your players? Because they get to keep playing and you… don’t?”

Fuck. I’d never heard anyone voice the bitterness I silently felt so perfectly before. “It’s awful,” I admitted. “Because I adore them. And I’m so fucking proud of them. But sometimes I feel so envious, y’know?” I blinked, refusing to cry in front of Roy Kent. “It’s like time keeps moving and I’m just frozen. It’s so damn hard to go from the top of the world, being the fucking champion of the world, to sitting on the sideline, watching other people live your dream. Faking smiles when all you want to do is fade into oblivion.”

“But you just can’t fucking stay away from the game,” Roy murmured, reading my mind. “It’s like a first love. You can never quite get over it.” He sighed heavily. “So, we linger, we stick around, and we figure out some way to be useful, even if it kills us.”

“And when it does kill us,” I added, “they’ll just keep dribbling around us.”

His dark laugh eased the pain this conversation held. “Oi, I promise to move you out of the way. Give you some fucking dignity. Promise you’ll do the same for me?”

I smirked at him, determined to help him lighten things up. “Dunno if you’ll be able to move my body. I hear your knees are shit.”

“Fuck you,” he replied, the expression on his face telling me that, for once, he didn’t really mean it. “Alright, another question.” I raised my eyebrows at him. “Do you miss, I dunno, being the hot young thing?”

Doing my best Roy Kent impression, I narrowed my eyes at him. “Fuck you,” I repeated. “I’m younger than you, Kent. And I have it on good authority that I’m still pretty hot.” My expression naturally softened when I saw the laughter in his eyes. “But I know what you mean. Everyone wants the cute young athlete, no one wants the exhausted manager. A lot less options when you’re not the shiny new thing anymore.”

“Well,” he started slowly, “you are the shiny new thing at Richmond.”

I gave a little hum. “Not with the other Whippets around,” I pointed out. “I noticed Jamie Tartt and Dani Rojas started poking around my office a lot less once my girls arrived.”

Roy studied me carefully for a moment. “Do you… want their attention?”

I nearly choked on my drink. “Fuck no,” I laughed. “I might still be young, but I’m old enough to not want to date guys like that. Not that I don’t think they’re sweet,” I quickly added. “That’s just… not what I’m looking for anymore.”

The silence returned. Something in the way he looked at me had me blurting out the first thing that popped into my head.

“Keeley mentioned that, um, the two of you used to date?”

After a moment of shock, he nodded. “Oh. Yeah. For a bit.” He took a long drink. “That’s all completely over. We’re good friends now, but neither of us want to go down that road again.” He paused before continuing. “Not that it was a bad relationship. It was great, actually. We just grew apart. And we’re honestly much better as friends.”

“Oh.” Just like when Keeley talked about it, I couldn’t figure out what to say. Or why I was so interested.

“And we’ve both moved on,” he continued, as if he was trying to convince me. “She’s had a couple of relationships since, and I…” He looked at me carefully, watching me take a drink of my scotch. “I’ve moved on,” he repeated.

I crossed my legs, not sure if it was me or the alcohol that purposely did so in a way that took full advantage of the slit in my dress. “Well, that’s nice. That you two remained friends, I mean.”

“Yeah.” His eyes were on my exposed leg. “Friends.”

“I would say we’re on our way to almost being friends, wouldn’t you?”

He grunted in response. “Maybe.” He turned his body to face me, something heated in his eyes. “D’you need some more scotch?”

I smiled at him and mirrored his posture, reveling in the closeness it provided. “Not sure I should keep you up any longer. Bedtime, remember?”

“I don’t really have a bedtime,” he admitted with a laugh. “Just wanted to get the fuck out of there.” He paused, letting his hand drop down onto the back of the couch so his fingers ghosted over my bare shoulder. “Getting a little sick of everyone watching us all the time.”

My heart skipped a beat at his touch. “I take it you’ve been getting some teasing?”

“They don’t fucking stop, do they?” He finished his drink and put down his glass with a thud. “All this ‘shag it out of your system’ shit. It’s fucking sexual harassment.”

“That’s what I told Lucas!” I set down my glass, ignoring the last couple of sips left in it. “Even Keeley was going on and on about how you were going to love this dress on me.”

His lips curved upwards. “I do love that dress on you.”

My words got caught in my throat. Hell, I didn’t even know what those words were going to be. All I knew was that Roy Kent was staring at my lips and his fingers were grazing my shoulder and that he was still wearing his jacket and that I suddenly wanted to see it on the floor.

His eyes reflecting the same uncertainty and heat that I felt, Roy leaned forward and captured my lips in a forceful kiss. The hand on my shoulder moved to the back of my neck as his other hand gripped my thigh where the dress split open to reveal most of my leg, as if the dress was conspiring along with everyone else at Nelson Road. My own hands tugged at his suit jacket, shoving it off his shoulders and tossing it aside, before returning to his shoulders to pull him closer to me.

There was a surprising gentleness to the way he pushed me back until I was horizontal on the couch, Roy propping himself up to keep his full weight off of me. My hands moved to his face, amused to find that his beard was much softer than I’d expected it to be. Somewhere in my mind- the part still capable of coherent thought- I scolded myself for expecting anything about how his beard would feel.

As his tongue skimmed against mine, the record came to a halt; neither of us seemed to care, instead choosing to fill the living room with the sounds of our heavy breathing and soft moans. Kissing Roy Kent was delicious- he tasted like scotch and smelled like expensive, spicy cologne and felt like everything I never knew I needed.

His mouth moved away from mine to find every bit of bare skin and planting rough, wet kisses on every inch he could reach, giving me butterflies in more places than just my tummy. When he finally decided to take advantage of the neckline of my dress and bring his lips there, I mumbled, “Will you argue with me if I ask you where your bedroom is?”

He looked up, grinning like a devil, eyes darker and more intense than their usual soft brown. “Only if you slow me down.”

He managed to get us both to our feet without breaking the embrace, albeit with a bit of a stumble. He kept his mouth on mine as he tugged me through the house and down the hall, where I relieved him of his tie and began fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, while his hands roamed the back of my dress, searching for the zipper.

As we crashed through his bedroom door, he managed to rasp against my lips, “Are you too drunk for this?”

Feeling just short of desperation as I squeezed him impossibly closer, I shook my head. “Just drunk enough. You?”

“Just drunk enough.”

That was all either of us needed to hear. His shirt was suddenly unbuttoned, and my dress was on the floor. We had enough sense to carelessly remove our shoes and kick them to some corner of the room before tumbling onto his bed. When his shirt was tossed aside, I gave an involuntary gulp. This wasn’t a new sight; I watched Roy run without a shirt regularly. But tonight? Tonight, I got to reach out and let my fingers run through that dark curly hair, giving a little tug that had Roy hissing against my neck and grinding his hips into mine.

“Take your pants off, Kent,” I groaned before smashing my mouth into his again.

“I think you can call me Roy now,” he mumbled, for once doing as he was told.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, desperate for more, more, more of him. His skin was blazing hot against mine as his hands explored here, there, everywhere. I marveled at how good it felt to have this man pressed so close to me, amazed that we’d lasted this long without falling into bed together.

His mind must’ve been in the same place, because he mumbled, “Wish I’d known this is what you meant all those times you told me to get fucked.”

“Fuck you, Roy,” I whispered jokingly as my hand slowly travelled lower, towards the place I knew would be the hottest to the touch.

“Thought that was the plan,” he replied, hips bucking slightly when I began toying with the waistband of his boxers.

I buried my giggles against his lips. In the back of my head, behind my usual contempt for this man and his snark, behind my ever-growing need for him, some little voice whispered, He’s funny. Roy Kent is FUNNY.

There wasn’t much time for me to focus on that, however, as Roy’s hand found my own underwear, giving a playful little tug. “This alright?” he breathed, as if we weren’t both on fire with wanting each other.

“Just do me one favor,” I murmured, bumping my nose to his, an impossibly chaste gesture compared to what we were about to do.

“Fucking anything,” he groaned. The- was I really seeing this?- affection in his eyes told me he truly meant it.

I pressed a heated kiss to his lips, where I mumbled, “Don’t fucking call me Bucky.”

He laughed, and, for the first time, he whispered my name.

And he whispered it in my ear for the rest of the night.

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just-wrting · 1 year

Text

Undercover

Title: Undercover

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: Working on a case, leads to you and Hotch pretending to be a couple to lure out an unsub. While you're aware of the impact it has on your crush, you're unaware of the impact it has on Hotch.

Word Count: 4892

Master List

A/N: This has been my longest sitting Hotch draft so I sat down today and wrote this! It only took me a few hours cause I couldn't stop watching Criminal Minds while writing this. This is also so that people who aren't enjoying the Babysitter series a break. This was also gonna have smut but I want sleep more than that.

You had lots of feelings about Hotch. As your boss, he was good at his job. He was usually level-headed, calm, and direct. He did well in a leadership role and was able to command the team well. On top of that, his voice was smooth and his hands warm. He took good care of everyone, even you. That led to your biggest issue with your job at the BAU, you had started to develop a crush on your boss.

The gentle sound of papers rustling is what makes you realize that you’re not alone. You’ve managed to zone out while on the plane. Thankfully it’s in the last part of the trip, the part where you all mostly read the files on your own and tried to piece things together.

Emily slides back into her seat next to you and pushes a cup toward you. “I don’t think I’ve seen you have a single thing to drink on this flight.”

You take a sip from the cup and gave her a small smile. “Yeah, I tend to be a little squished into the seat by the window and don’t want to interrupt someone’s thoughts. I know no one’s going to be mad, but I’d rather not risk something that could be important.”

“Dehydration will just make it harder for you to focus, (Y/N). Granted the effects take much longer to set in, but the average adult doesn’t drink nearly enough water.”

You look over the table at Reid. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind before I choose my coffee.”

“You sure it’s a cup of coffee you’ll be choosing? I’ve seen you with more soda in your hand than coffee.”

You shake your head at Morgan before looking back at the files in your hand. Morgan had been right. Maybe not about the soda but about the fact that no matter how many cases you did, it wasn’t any easier. Each victim was someone that could no longer be saved. They all had a family that wanted them back, and there was nothing you could do.

—

Once you had landed, Hotch sent you with Morgan to go look at the crime scene. It is your least favorite task, not to mention your weak stomach after a flight, you don’t like looking at the blood longer than you have to. Thankfully, Morgan is good at keeping you calm and is willing to check on rooms first. He’ll always give you a warning, your own little one-to-five scale, on how bad the room was.

“The bodies were found still in bed. The neighbors said they didn’t hear anything so maybe the first thing he did was make sure they couldn’t scream.”

You nod as Morgan walks around the bed. “Based on trauma on the head I’d go with at least one woke up. The husband had an indent on the back of his head. Given that there wasn’t anything left at the crime scene, the killer took it with him.”

“Okay so, the unsub gets into the house and comes upstairs to the couple sleeping. Maybe he makes a noise or something. Husband wakes up and the unsub hits him so he stays quiet.”

“What about the wife? I’ve heard men are deeper sleepers so wouldn’t she have woken up? Plus this isn’t the first murder. Wouldn’t the unsub know better than to make noises?”

“Maybe he killed the wife first. The blood or the smell could’ve woken the husband. Maybe even the wife moving before she died woke him up. It didn’t take him long to kill both of them. Time of death for both was around 3 am.”

“If he was done with the wife, why not just kill the husband right away? Why bother knocking him out?”

With that, Morgan shrugs and looks at you. “I don’t know. Maybe it was easier. All I know is that there isn’t much else here.”

“Do you think this couple was having fun?”

Morgan blinks. “What do you mean?”

“Well for starters, there’s not much in here to suggest that they had intimacy. Besides the blood, this bedroom looks like it was set up for a showing. There are no pictures of them together besides a wedding photo. I doubt you’d find sexual items in here.”

Morgan gave the room a once-over. “I guess so. A loveless marriage that didn’t even have kids. I wonder what kept them together.”

—

“So we’ve got multiple couples murdered. They all have their similarities. The men all have some sort of desk job and made decent money. The wives all did some sort of work with people. For example, wife number one was a teacher, and wife number two was a tour guide for the museum. Beyond that, they didn’t have any other things in common. No common places they went or people they knew.”

Morgan held open the door for you. “Actually, I don’t think any of them had kids. Where are the crime scene photos?”

Emily hands you a file that you pop open and show to Morgan. “They all seem to be set up the same. All master bedrooms with the victims inside on the bed.”

As you flip through them, you start to feel queasy. The pictures still contain the bodies in their posed positions on the bed. The walls and furniture are covered in blood. You do your best to pull your eyes from the bodies. You want to look at what was in the rooms.

“It’s the same in these. There are no signs of love or a happy couple. Not a photo besides the wedding one.”

Hotch gives you a glance and you hold out the file. “What do you think this could mean?”

“Well, maybe it’s all staged. The photo happens to be on the wives’ side of the bed and they all happen to sleep on the right side. While that may happen to be the most common side for the wife to sleep on, it’s all preference. They’re posed in a way that makes them look like they’re in a mattress commercial.”

“So the unsub could be acting out a fantasy with the couples. But what sort of fantasy could it be? He’s not pretending to be the husband, there’s no sexual aspect to it,” Rossi wonders while he rubs his chin.

Emily takes the files back from you. “Maybe he’s jealous. Maybe he doesn’t do well with women or doesn’t have a stable job.”

You awkwardly let your hand fall to your side. Hotch is being a little colder than usual today, but you can’t let it bother you. Just because you want the little “thank you” in his eyes when you hand him something, doesn’t mean anything. You just want what everyone wants. You want his approval.

—

“(Y/N).”

Hotch says your name for what is probably the tenth time. You are too lost in thought to notice the other times, but now you look up. You meet his eyes as he tries to pass you a cup of coffee. Scrambling to move the files around, you shoved the papers around until you had a small space for the cup.

“Thanks! I was sure I was going to have to use all these files to take a nap,” you joked. “Nothing like sitting here and looking through papers to make me excited.”

Hotch raises a brow. “Find anything yet?”

You give a sigh. “Nope. Unlike Reid, I can’t read super fast or remember everything. Going through paperwork feels like hell, but at least today I had a savior to bring me my coffee.”

You make eye contact with Hotch and give him a soft smile. You are so happy that he looks out for you. It makes you feel special, even if you know he does it for everyone. You know that it is stupid, but every little nice thing he does gives you butterflies.

Hotch gives a chuckle. “I get to be your savior? Just for bringing you a coffee?”

“Mhm. You tend to be there when I need something so why shouldn’t I call you my savior?”

He shoots you a quick smile as Morgan walks in behind him. “You don’t say things like that because I’m here to tease you, (Y/N). If Hotch is your savior what do I get to be?”

“You, Derek Morgan, can be my one and only nuisance. Only you tease me about the little things.”

Clearing his throat, Hotch asks, “Find anything yet?”

“Well if by anything you really mean anything then yeah. I found a bunch of random things that make no sense and have no use. If you meant anything by useful, then no, I have nothing. I did come up with a few more ideas about our unsub though.”

Hotch gives you a nod to keep going, while Morgan leans against the door frame. “Well, the first murder doesn’t differ from the others. Normally it's the one where they develop a pattern but there isn’t anything out of place.”

“So perhaps this isn’t his first murder,” Morgan says.

You shake your head. “There’s no other murders in the area that match. It might be his first kill but it’s not his first violent act. Not to mention I thought it was odd that he focused on hurting the men more than the women. Perhaps he had an issue with his parents. Or resentment towards a male figure in his life.”

“Like a child of divorce or perhaps an abusive father.” This time Hotch acknowledges what you are saying. “He might even have a record for aggressive and violent behavior.”

“Well we can have Garcia look into that but right now we don't have much else to go on. Besides knowing the unsub is only half the battle. We need to know what connects the victims. Where could he have met or seen all of these people? There has to be a place or a person that connects all the victims.”

You choose to let Hotch glance at the files on top while you down your coffee as fast as you can. You don’t want to be a downer on the fact that Morgan is right, but you’re starting to feel tired. You aren’t sure if you could handle even another five minutes staring at paperwork.

“Do you think that figuring that out can wait? I mean everyone else is still doing their interviews on the families. That could bring something to the table.” You set the empty cup on the table. “Besides, if I have to look at another file in the next ten minutes I might go nuts.”

Hotch gives you a soft smile. “Sure. How about you go and take a break? Actually, if you don’t mind, maybe you could get something for the team to eat when they get back while we go over the information. I doubt most of them have had lunch yet.”

You stand and stretch. “Absolutely! I’d do almost anything to get out of this stuffy room with all of this paper.”

“Hey cupcake, get me some good coffee while you’re out,” Morgan gives a cheeky grin. “Oh and maybe a donut, since you’re not giving me enough sweetness.”

You roll your eyes and give him a light shove. “Your little tech goddess wouldn’t be happy with you shooting words like that at someone else. So tone it down, Muscle Man.”

Morgan puts his hand to his heart and makes a fake groan. His silly little act makes you giggle. You know it's all jokes, but you can’t help smiling at it. Morgan always knows how to lighten the mood.

“Hotch did you want anything in particular? Since Morgan’s trying to boss me around with his orders, I figured the real boss should have a say in what I get him.” Your hand rests on the doorway. “Feel free to send me a text about it.”

You turn and walk out the door before Hotch or Morgan can say anything else. You can feel your heart race. Telling Hotch to text you feels so personal despite it not being personal at all. To make matters worse, you hear your phone chime with the ringtone you have set for Hotch.

Despite wanting to look at it right away, you choose to wait until you get into one of the vehicles. You feel like if you look while still in the building, it’ll give away your feelings. It's bad enough that Emily gives you crap about it, Morgan would be a nightmare. Besides you don’t trust him to not slip up and spill it.

Thankfully the coffee shop isn’t far, no more than a ten minute drive, and it gives you time to think. As much as you’d like to avoid thinking about the case, you know you should. That and it’s subconscious at this point. Almost every waking moment on a case is spent thinking about the case.

There’s only so many places that people could have in common. Only one family was religious so that rules out church. They didn’t have any of the same sort of hobbies or even work near each other. The only thing they had in common was budget. Similar houses and similar cars made it easy to spot, and Garcia checked on their credit.

After placing the order, you aren’t even sure how you’ll carry that much coffee into the precinct, you take a seat and people watch. It’s nothing special, a few students studying, a mom and child planning on how to best utilize play time, and a younger couple are all that occupy the tables.

The couple appears to be getting along, and you made note of how badly you wanted a coffee date. That’s when a thought occurs. What if the couples had gone on a date? You remember reading about a case that involved a couple murdering to respark their love after a marriage counselor suggested finding something like that.

After making sure that your order is correct and strapping it firmly into the car, you call Garcia. The Bluetooth connects in the car and within seconds Garcia picks up.

“BAU tech genius at your service!”

You smile as you reply, “My tech genius, are you able to see what purchases the couples made the days before their deaths?”

“Do kittens have whiskers? Of course I can. What am I looking for?”

“Can you see if they all went to the same restaurant? My hunch is that since most of them were seeing counselors that resparking romance was suggested so they might have tried to have a romantic date.”

The keyboard clicks away. “I’ll look into it. Now I hope you don’t mind but I’ve got officer sexy calling me so I need to let you go.”

You laugh. “Just make sure if he asks you to do what I’m having you do, tell him it was my idea first.”

“Will do, sugar. Bye!”

With a click, Garcia is gone. You know by the time you get back to the precinct, she’ll have your answer. Which will be amazing since the faster you solve this case the faster you can go back to smothering your feelings.

It’s not that you hate the fact that you have a crush on Hotch. It just makes your job hard. Standing next to him makes your heart pound and when he smiles at you, you know you’re in deep. Not to mention how gentle and warm his hands are, despite being calloused, when he checks you over for injuries.

Thankfully, by the time you walk into the precinct, everyone else is there. J.J. and Ried help you bring everything in. As you pass out the food, Morgan puts Garcia on speaker.

“Alrighty. I looked into an idea that (Y/N) had and struck gold. Almost literally. All of the couples did in fact go on a fancy schmancy date to a place called the Golden Roast the day before they were found murdered.”

“What made you have the idea to look into that?” Morgan asks. “How did you figure it out?”

You glance at Morgan before continuing to unwrap the sandwich in front of you. “Well, multiple of the couples had marriage counselors and I’ve heard that one of the things they tell couples is to try and find that romantic spark. Going on a fancy romantic dinner date seems like it would be a good idea.”

“A place that like that may want us to bring a warrant. We can go and look but we should still have some sort of backup plan given that we don’t have much to go on to find the unsub,” Ried says as he eats his food.

“So let’s have two people go undercover. We send two other people in to talk to the staff about the couples. The undercover couple acts like the victims and we can use them to lure out the unsub.”

You raise your eyebrow at Morgan. Sure, sending people undercover would be the fastest way to find the unsub but that didn’t stop the fact that apparently one person alone murdered two people. Something about it was still bothering you.

“So, we send two people undercover to pretenc like they’re married. Who do we send?” you ask.

Emily gives you a sly smile. “Since you’re asking who’s going, why not you? Pick someone out.”

You quickly realize what she’s up to. “Maybe you should go since you’re avoiding it. Afraid the tension will be too much for you?”

Rossi nods his head. “Well since (Y/N) is going undercover for practically the first time why don’t we send someone seasoned? I’m far too old to pretend to be their husband, but perhaps Hotch could.”

You nearly choke on your coffee at his words. It sounds like a poor plan, granted you wouldn’t mind playing Hotch’s wife, you didn’t want to argue with him. Everyone else seems to be in agreement on the plan, and your fate is sealed.

—

The fancy clothes feel constricting and you do your best to not touch your hair. The atmosphere is far too romantic for you, and you feel so nervous. It takes all of your willpower to stay on task and not just admire how absolutely hot Hotch is.

“Do you know what you plan on ordering?” Hotch asks. “Or are you going to look at the menu all night?”

His voice is a little harsh and it pulls you back to reality. You need to get on his nerves and pick at everything he does. Or at least that’s what Morgan told you after talking to the staff.

“Well, maybe if you knew that this place isn’t what I like, I wouldn’t have such a hard time picking something to eat.”

The waiter offers you a glass of wine and you decline. The one that seems to come preset with the table is going to be hard enough to pretend to drink, and you don’t need more of it on the table. You can hear the murmur of other couples, and you realize that an argument would definitely draw the unsub to you.

“How am I supposed to know what you like? You don’t talk to me much.”

“Maybe if you weren’t married to your job, Aaron, I’d have time to talk to you.”

His gaze is icy and you know that hits a nerve. You’ve both heard before in a relationship. It’s what your job brings. You feel bad about it, but you know this has to be realistic.

The conversation between you and Hotch simmers down as the waiter takes your order. You take the time to scan the restaurant looking for a possible clue. No one sticks out, and you return your eyes to Hotch.

“You know that work keeps me busy. I have a lot of paperwork and it keeps me at the office late.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Sure it’s not one of those pretty little ladies at the office?”

Hotch clenches his fist. “Are you accusing me of something?”

You meet his eyes. You’re doing your best to be convincing as an angry wife. It seems to be working, as a couple of tables are doing their best to look at the two of you. Hotch’s gaze remains cold, and you don’t like it.

“I didn’t say anything. Why are jumping to conclusions if you have nothing to hide?”

You trace the rim of the wine glass. Hotch’s eyes follow your hand as you do this, watching as you pretend to drink. The waiter jumps at the chance to bring you your meal.

The entire meal is silent. You watch each other over the candle light, and you make note about how nervous that makes you. Crossing a romantic candle lit dinner off the bucket list is happening, and its strictly for the firehazard.

“Since you aren’t replying, I’m going to assume you have something to hide.”

Hotch’s fork clatters against plate. “I don’t have anything to hide. Can you stop jumping to conclusions for one dinner? I’m trying to make this work.”

You make a face and push your plate away. “I think I’ve lost my appetite, thanks. Can we hurry this up, please?”

Hotch waves the waiter over and takes care of the check. You watch as his jaw unclenches, and you really want to kiss him. The romantic dinner may help you catch the unsub, but you know it’s making your crush worse.

—

The car ride to the sheriff’s house is silent for the first few minutes. You are making sure to face away from Hotch due to a bit of a hunch. There was a few people who had bumped into you and Hotch. If one of those people is the unsub, they could’ve left some sort of bug.

“(Y/N)? I didn’t mean to-”

You cut him off. “Save it, Aaron. I need some space to calm down. Talking about it isn’t going to help.”

He looks shocked, but keeps driving. At a stop sign, he glances over at you and you give a small smile. You mouth ‘I’ll explain to you later’.

—

You know that you don’t have the bug. You make sure to gently touch the areas that you had been bumped, carefully feeling for any sort device. There’s nothing there, and you know you’ll have to check Hotch. Just how to do it without letting the unsub know.

“You’re right, Aaron. I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. Here. Let me take your jacket.”

You move closer to him. You slide your hand up under his jacket and up over his shoulder. Hotch is too shocked to stop you and you are able to successfully pull his jacket off. Hidden under the collar is a little device.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing?”

“What do you mean, Aaron? I’m just trying to have some intimacy. It’s called make-up sex if I’m correct.”

“I don’t think-”

You huff. “Fine. I get it. Don’t forget to check your jacket for stuff in the pockets because I don’t want another incident like last time. I’m going to bed, Aaron.”

In the hallway, you start to panic. Did you take it too far? You know that the team could hear what you were saying and that thought makes you die a little inside. At least one of them will be giving you shit about it tomorrow.

—

You’ve been in bed for about four hours before you hear anything. Aaron is in bed next to you, a respectable distance away. The sound of a door creaking leads him to roll over to face you. His hand on your arm would be reassuring, if you didn’t happen to have a gun tucked under the pillow.

You both do your best to stay still as you wait for whoever it is to enter the bedroom. By now, the tem is most likely getting into position. None of the murders have been done with a gun, so you feel less nervous about the unsub entering the bedroom. Besides, Hotch has amazing aim.

The next noise is the bedroom door opening. Gentle footsteps enter the room and walk closer to the bed. Before a hand even reaches the sheets, Aaron shoots up. You grab your gun with one hand and flip on the light with the other.

A man stands at the foot of your bed holding a knife and baseball bat. With two guns trained on him, he’s frozen.

“Drop the weapons.”

The bat clatters to the ground and the unsub starts to back up. You know he’s about to make a dash for it.

“Don’t even think about it! One of us will shoot you before you can even make it through the doorway.”

You and Hotch get out of the bed. Within seconds, Hotch has the unsub pinned against the doorframe, the knife skittering across the hallway floor.

—

After that the case wraps up easily. The man caves easily as the submissive partner looking for the ideal romantic relationship with a woman who was using him to get rid of couples who argued at the restaurant, reminding her of her parents.

The plane ride is quiet. Most of the team seems asleep, and after double checking, you sit down next to Hotch. You slide him a cup of water and fold your hands on the table.

“About the things I said, I’m sorry. Most of it was stuff that my ex had said about me so I figured it would work.”

Hotch gives you a smile. “It’s alright. I also wanted to apologize. I hope I wasn’t too harsh.”

“Well, it worked out in the end. You’re a much better actor than I am. You played the part of a man who loved me and wanted to yell at me at the same time.”

“I wasn’t acting.”

This time it’s you who’s too stunned to speak. You open your mouth and then close it while staring at him.

“Acting about what?”

Hotch looks bashful. “About you. This case has officially made it clear that I have developed feelings for you. In fact, if you’d like, I would like to take you out for dinner properly.”

“I-I think I’d love that. Maybe later in the week. I could use some relaxing after this.”

Hotch unclasps your hands and holds them in his. You can feel your heart race, but give his hand a gentle squeeze. The two of you spend the rest of the plane trip in a comfortable silence, occasionally give each other smiles.

Once you land, you make your way to your car and slide into the driver’s seat. Turning the key leads to a sputter without much else. Of course having an amazing thing happen is immediately followed by something bad happening. Your bad luck stops there, as Hotch knocks on your window.

“Jack happens to be with a friend tonight, if you want to spend the night. Not that you have to of course.”

“I didn’t take you for the type of man that moves faster than Morgan,” you tease. “But in all seriousness that’s better than keeping you up longer than you need to be so you can take me home.”

“Helping the team is what I’m supposed to do. You aren’t a bother to me, (Y/N).”

“Aaron? Can I be honest for just a moment?” He nods as he takes your bag. “I’ve had feeling for you for sometime. Longer than I expected.”

He loads both duffle bags into the car. Just like a gentleman, Aaron holds your door open and closes it behind you. You’re tempted to try to hold his hand, but you let him focus on the road instead.

“Then I suppose I should be honest as well. This case might have been eyeopener, but if you talk to Rossi, I’ve been trying to avoid my feelings for. I just didn’t want it to affect you at work.”

You think back and try to remember if Aaron had shown any signs of liking you. Sure there had been times you had noticed him watching you, or the times he’d stand closer to you than other people would. They were all just subtle signs that as a profiler you should’ve noticed.

By the time you’ve connected all the dots, you’re in front of his place. Aaron lets you in, and sets about setting things down. This includes all the of the stuff you both have to wear as agents and your bags. Your grateful as he takes yours and sets them off to the side as well.

The two of you settle into the couch and curl up together as the TV plays some mindless show. You can’t focus on the TV with the sound of Aaron’s heartbeat in your ear. Not to mention the gentle rubbing of his hand on your arm. It’s hard to focus on anything but him.

The exhaustion hits you, and you find yourself dozing off. Aaron guides you off the couch and lets you fall into his bed. The last thing you process before you pass out is Aaron pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

#reader insert #criminal minds #aaron hotch #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner #criminal minds aaron hotch

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wonwoosthetic · 1 year

Text

Amour-Haine & Co. | Chapter 17 |

series masterlist

kpop masterlist

warnings – SMUT hehe, cursing, explicit fight scene at the beginning, mentions of blood and death

word count – 13k

A/N: for making you guys wait for way too long, I wanted to give you some more smut FINALLY🫶🏼 ˙ᵕ˙ of course, thank you for the continuous patience while I make my way through uni and tumblr and I hope you enjoy this series as we take it further and further <3

"We've been here once before, right?"

With one last huff, Shownu dropped the limp body of the man he had been punching only seconds ago. The white dress shirt now covered in blood, stuck to his body as he adjusted the sleeves. With the hand he had used to cause the damage surrounding him, he wiped his mouth and spat on the floor.

Bodies were scattered all over the club floor, which was usually filled with dancing feet and people drinking and celebrating. Only a few moments ago, music was playing, drinks were being shared, couples were making out, and just within a split second, everything stopped. And it all started with a woman and two men, that suddenly turned into an entire troupe with no trace of her.

The men of Monsta X stood at different points within the room, now looking at the mess they created. Heavy breathing filled the space, coughing coming from each corner. The lights were still dimmed, just like they would be on any other day, the soft red beams striking the walls.

"What the fuck just happened?!" The panicked voice of Changkyun, the newest and youngest member of Seoul's most notorious gang, echoed through the club.

With a low chuckle, the leader lifted his head, his eyes immediately scanning the men in front of him - the other group they had decided to trust merely a few weeks ago. All were breathing harshly, gazing at the ground in almost horror. Shownu's glare fixated on one person in particular.

"Yeah, Jeon." Wonwoo looked up, the cold look meeting his. "What the fuck just happened."

The SVT men's heads shot to the guy they considered their leader. The man that had brought them to where they were then and now. But he just gently shook his head, his palms open as he pointed with them to his surrounding.

"These are your enemies Son, not mine."

Shownu took one step closer, his leg lifting to cross the body ahead of him. "Then explain to me how they got in here. You really think I'd leave my doors open for my own enemies."

Everyone knew what he was indicating. They all knew it from the beginning.

The whole vision of Monsta X and SVT working together came out of thin air almost. It was Wonwoo's idea. Of course, it was. He wanted to do right what his father did wrong. And number one on the list longer than his lifeline was to fix the relationship between the long-lasting rivalry between the Sons and the Jeons. What started off with a purely business idea had turned into gang work decades ago. Each leader brought their family into it, and if you were the son of said man, you would be the next in line to lead a future team. No questions.

It had been Wonwoo's biggest nightmare. It had haunted him all throughout his childhood, up until the day he was officially assigned to the position he had been trying to avoid his entire life. But with a new generation came new connections and new leaders in line. Wonwoo had hoped Shownu would accept his offer and attempt to fix their families' rivalry instead of trying to bury each other six feet under.

It all had been going well up until that night because what goes around, comes around and Wonwoo had learned that the hard way.

"Look," he spoke up. "I don't know what you think of me, and I honestly don't care. But I couldn't give less of an interest in these guys when I was just trying to work with you, alright?" He tilted his head in a slightly demeaning way. "So maybe you should start looking for a wolf in sheep's clothing."

If the breathing of each man in the room hadn't been so unbearably loud, you would've felt the immediate change of atmosphere in the shared space. Wonwoo should've regretted the words he had just let fall from his lips, but he didn't. He couldn't. Mingyu dreaded getting closer to his leader, his best friend but knew better and stayed in the back, covering the other members he considered family.

Shownu's hands found their way into his pockets as he casually took a few more forward, his broad shoulders chilling along with with his body. His tongue glided over his teeth. "Are you trying to set me up against my own men?"

"I'm not trying to set you up against anyone. I'm only giving you possibilities." Wonwoo shrugged. He didn't budge. Not with each step the other leader got closer to him. Not even a little bit.

Shownu continued until the two men were nose to nose in front of each other, glaring into their souls. He gave the other man a quick up-and-down look before opening his mouth.

"Vernon." He got the attention of the, back then, youngest that had stayed back in a different room, only joining the other men once he heard the dead silence. "Start cleaning up the mess." Meaning the corpses on the floor. The blood splashes on the tiles would come later.

The youngster gulped, looking around the room, trying to lock eyes with one of his friends, begging for help, but all they did was copy his facial expression. Wonwoo's scoff reached their ear.

"Ehm," Vernon cleared his throat. He started nodding hesitantly, glancing at each body. "Yeah, yeah... I'll... do that." Just as he was about to bend down, his leader's deep voice bounced off the walls.

"Vernon," still staring at Shownu, no blink shared between them. "Don't you dare even lift a finger."

The older guy raised his left eyebrow. "Now, suddenly you're the one giving orders?"

"They listen to me. They're not one of your maids." Wonwoo spat back.

Shownu chuckled, looking around the room, almost finding humour in the situation. "And here I thought we would finally become one, but no, the Jeon ego just always gets in the way." Looking down at the floor, he kicked one of the bodies to give him more space. His arms were crossed in front of his chest. His glare fell back on Wonwoo. "You know, I had my doubts, Jeon. I really did. But here you waltzed in with your cute little entourage of businessmen wannabe gangsters, begging for forgiveness for all the shit your ancestors did, and I almost wanted to believe you. Almost. And then pull this shit here." He opened his arms widely, welcoming the mess around him.

"I said it before, I'll say it again. I have nothing to do with what happened here." SVT's leader pulled his sleeves up higher from where they fell down during his fight with one of the guys that attacked him in the scene that happened only a few minutes ago. "But you know," he took a deep breath, "It's always difficult trusting new people." His eyes fell on the newest and youngest addition of Monsta X. A person he considered a past friend, now long forgotten.

"And here you go doubting my men again." With quick strokes, Shownu was at arm's length of Wonwoo. "I'd better watch my mouth if I were you and want to keep living my life, Jeon. Or imma end it real quick for you."

Wonwoo casually put his hands into his pocket, sighing in boredom. "You can keep your trust issues to yourself, Son. I don't want to have anything to do with that."

Shownu squinted his eyes at the younger man before erupting in laughter, scaring not only the men on the other side but his own as well. Madness wasn't a level the leader had reached yet. But maybe the time had come.

"You know, you truly are just like your father. Just... utterly intolerable.-"

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" Wonwoo's facial expression changed within less than a second. His eyes glared holes into the man in front of him, his mouth slightly agape.

A low chuckle shook Shownu's body. "First blind, and now he's also turning deaf," glancing at his members that joined in on the humourous reaction, before turning back to Wonwoo, who still kept his nose up high. "I said, you're exactly like your father. So you better bet-" And that's when the first fist flew. Wonwoo's knuckles clashed against the other man's jaw, a crack coming from the impact, but who got hurt more was unknown.

Shownu couldn't help but to stumbled back slightly, his fingers grazing over the burning bruise forming on his skin. He just had to chuckle.

"Struck a nerve?"

"I don't think I should be the one keeping my mouth shut."

Shownu straightened his back followed by cracking his neck by moving his head from side to side. "You really want to go separate ways like this?"

Wonwoo shrugged. "I think you'd enjoy that."

Monsta X's leader nodded, "Oh, you better I'm gonna enjoy this." Before crossing the floor to let his fist collide with Wonwoo's stomach. He was quick to catch himself from stumbling too much, reaching out to grab the man's collar, pulling him in closer, only to send him crashing against the bar counter.

That's all it took for the other men of the gang to go up against Wonwoo's group, running towards them individually, preparing themselves to follow their leaders into another fight when they had only just won one.

Minhyuk got a hold of Dokyeom, throwing him onto the floor quickly, but the younger man managed to pull him down with him.

Kihyun didn't see Hoshi, who had snuck up behind him, his arm circling around his throat to cut off the air, causing the Monsta X member to choke loudly before knocking both of them back into the wall, earning a grunt from Hoshi.

Hyungwon got rid of his jacket to wrap it around Seungkwan's wrists skillfully, pulling the younger one closer to him and twisting his arms around to his back, getting a cry out of pain in return.

The grunt reached Mingyu's ear, making him run towards the duo, only to be stopped when Wonho bumped into him as S.Coups had punched his face, involving now also the tallest member even though he just wanted to get the second youngest of the group, who had now managed to free himself and turned the fight around. Changykun was close by when his eyes found his member fighting off the eldest and the tallest members of SVT, alerting him. He snatched a glass off one of the small tables, taking it along with him. Right as he showed up behind Mingyu, he smashed the glass against his head before getting a hold of his dress shirt and dragging him off his fellow member.

Wonwoo and Shownu had gotten their own space behind the bar, earning punch after punch from each other, interrupted by a few bottles being thrown or kicks to the legs.

Huffs, grunts, moans in pain, and cracking bones were the only sounds filling the club that usually only housed music and skin-against-skin slapping during sexual encounters.

If the space didn't already look messy enough from the party before, it now seemed more than just destroyed. Glass pieces decorated the floor and bodies, the suit jackets the men had worn before were scattered on different furniture and sticky fluids covered all possible surfaces.

Shownu managed to get a hold of Wonwoo's thick set of hair, holding his head up against his, his low voice ringing through his ear.

"You're a fucking rat, Jeon. Not a bit better than your father. You're the same asshole he was and will forever be exactly just that." With full force, he pushed the younger man's head against the bar countertop. He kept pressing down while Wonwoo wiggled around, trying to get out of the situation. He was about to kick back, hoping to hit his kneecap when the pressure against the side of his skull lifted. With a quick push, he was back up on his feed, watching what had happened. He found Vernon, standing behind Shownu, a pole in his hand, with which he must've hit the Monsta X leader as he was holding the back of his head, glaring at the youngest.

Wonwoo took the chance to snap off the metal hose that was connected to a beer chug underneath the counter. Just as Shownu was about to connect his fist with Vernon's face, SVT's leader wrapped the house around the older man's neck, pulling him up against his chest. Wonwoo tightened it as much as possible, hoping to knock the other man out when Shownu smacked his head back against Wonwoo's forehead, making him lose the grip on the hose. With a quick move, Shownu got a hold of the younger one's shirt and lifted him slightly, only to throw him over the bar counter. Wonwoo's back hit the floor, making him grunt out loud as he felt the tiniest splinters of glass boring his skin.

He knew he had to get up quickly, no matter how much pain he was in. His head was throbbing, there was a continuous ringing in his ear, and his glasses were God knows where at this point - he cursed whoever was up there for his terrible eyesight. He could feel the blood trickling down his back and hands as he got up, his jaw feeling swollen, and his left eye was almost glued together from the blood that had already started to dry out.

Shownu came around the corner, spitting out a tooth onto the floor as his gaze was back on his rival. He watched the man come back to his feet. The action made him chuckle.

"You better not die on my floor."

Wonwoo glared at him. "You wish. A Jeon's corpse in your club must be like Christmas to you."

His comment made Shownu smirk. "You know me too well." Before running up to the younger man again, raising his fist. Wonwoo was quick to react and duck out of the way, snatching a knife he saw earlier from the countertop, only to jam it into the older one's shoulder. He cried out in pain, stumbling forward as he tried to reach for it, but it was stuck in a place he couldn't reach. He turned around in anger, his face burning red. Shownu was met with a gun pointed directly at him.

"Who would've thought Jeon Wonwoo carries a gun with him," he choked out, slight amusement concealing his voice.

Wonwoo shook his head, his breathing still harsh as he tried not to fall to the ground. "It's not mine."

That's when Shownu noticed the sudden silence in the room. Ahead of him was Seungkwan laying on the ground, Hyungwon right next to him, his own gun pointed at Wonwoo. Wonho was knocked out on the floor with S.Coups and Mingyu sitting on one of the blood-covered couches, Changkyun right underneath Mingyu's foot, begging for air.

Hoshi was coming closer to the leading duo, Kihyun's gun now in Hoshi's hands as he held it right against his rival's temple with his other arm tight around his throat.

Everything was quiet when a painful cough echoed through the room. Through a door, that was now flat on the floor, came Dokyeom crawling on his knees while Minhyuk pushed him further with his foot. Wonwoo locked eyes with his member, who glanced at his leader in despair and embarrassment. He nodded at the younger member to reassure him before directing his attention back to his rival.

The gun was still pointing directly at Shownu, who had decided to stay still on the floor, but he chuckled with a salty undertone.

"So you want a Son's corpse in this club?"

Wonwoo shook his head, lowering the gun in his hand. "I don't want you dead. I don't need any blood on my hands."

"Look around you. Look at what you did, Jeon." The Monsta X leader tried to trick him.

"These guys are passed out for good, but not dead." His statement earned him a look of confusion from Shownu, so he continued, "I teach my men how to fight. Not how to kill." He dropped the gun and threw it towards the leader on the floor before turning around, only to get stopped when the older man got up. He told the other members to lower their weapons with a quick hand move.

"You're still a rat." Wonwoo turned around one last time at the sudden comment. "I should've listened to my father. Don't trust a Jeon. Never trust a Jeon."

He got a nod from SVT's leader in return, who exchanged glances with his guys, making them stand up as Mingyu rushed over to help Dokyeom up from the floor.

With a quick glance at Shownu, he bid his goodbye. "Well. From now on, you won't have to anymore." And started walking towards the door, the other members in trail close behind him. He couldn't help but to let out the last comment that kept tickling his tongue before exiting through the front door. "You better start cleaning up the mess if you want the club to re-open tomorrow."

Outside, each man was finally able to breathe in the fresh air, sounding like men starved from breathing for a decade as they enjoyed the night breeze that struck their bruised skin. Wonwoo immediately started looking around for the youngest member. He quickly found his silhouette sitting on the side of the pavement, a cigarette dangling between his lips. Right next to him, was the limp body of the security guard that had let them in about two hours ago. The sight made the leader almost chuckle.

"How's the guy?" He asked the youngster, who had turned around, nudging his head towards the buff man on the floor.

Vernon puffed out the last bit of his cigarette. "Knocked out pretty good. He won't remember any of this in a few hours."

Wonwoo nodded, "Good," and patted the shoulder of the younger member, giving him a quick glance. "Well done."

"Thanks, boss."

Not even letting anyone else interrupt, the man, apparently called Shownu, continued right after he brushed off the two women on each side of him, followed by his colleagues doing the same thing. "I see you replaced your little entourage with something much much more beautiful. Hey." His eyes were fixed on your form, noticing how you had tried to hide half of your body behind the CEO's frame.

"I'm more important than her right now, Son," Wonwoo's deep voice sliced the room while you watched the women awkwardly jogging out of the room.

The other man scoffed, exchanging amused glances with his friends before locking eyes with you again. "Well, how dare you say something like that about such a beauty. What's your name, darling?"

"I swear-"

"You should've brought the other guys if you didn't want me to talk to her, Jeon." Shownu cut off Wonwoo right away. His legs were still wide, his back relaxed against the back of the couch, the other men in similar poses.

A low chuckle came from the one on the right. "He knew they wouldn't survive another visit."

"You weren't even here the last time, so shut your fucking mouth, Jooheon," Wonwoo snapped at him. He jumped up from the couch immediately, ready to rush over to the two of you, when his leader stopped him.

"Boys, boys, calm down." He stood up with a grunt, taking two steps forward. His right hand held onto the wrist of his other one, giving a clear stance of power as he gave you another look that ran up and down your body, shooting a cold shiver through your body. "I'm sure Sir Jeon Wonwoo right here is smarter than that, right? Like you said, it would just make a terrible mess, wouldn't it?"

Not getting a verbal answer in return, was enough for him to continue. "Well then." He clapped his hands, rubbing them together. "Let's not play around and cut to the chase, huh?" His eyes met Wonwoo's cold glare. "Why the fuck do I have your feet on my ground again? And more importantly-" Before bending down to the side slightly to find you. "What is a lady like you doing in a hellhouse like this?"

Uncontrollably, you lifted your hand to touch Wonwoo's back, hooking your fingers into the small belt thing in the back of his suit jacket. Wonwoo knew better than to spit at Shownu again, but he could also feel the fear radiating off your body, making him change his stance just slightly, hoping it would go unnoticed by his rival. Of course, it didn't.

With a bright smile, the other man opposite you took a step to the side, extending his arm to point at the seating arrangement behind him.

"Please." All while keeping his eyes on you. You tried to look away, tried breaking the intense contact he held with you, but it seemed almost impossible.

In the first second, your brain didn't want to understand what he was proposing, but you quickly caught onto it, shaking your head softly in response. Opening your mouth, your voice seemed so much smaller than you had wanted to. It was bound to happen, in a room as big as that, surrounded by men with their physiques.

You gently raised a hand. "I... I'm good."

Shownu stood back straight, raising one eyebrow. "I wasn't asking, darling."

All while Wonwoo was unresponsive. No change in posture, no noticeable uneven breathing. Not even a clenched fist. It seemed as if he almost didn't care about his possible biggest rival inviting the woman behind him to come closer. You let your eyes travel to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of him looking down at you, letting you know what to do, but the CEO continued to keep his head up high, glaring at the man in front of the two of you.

With each passing second spent in unbearable silence, Shownu got more and more impatient, slowly but surely also rubbing off on the other men of his in the room as they sat forward, their arms resting on their upper thighs.

Deciding that keeping that man waiting any longer couldn't result in anything good, you dared to make your left foot step forward. You didn't even get to finish it before Wonwoo's body was quickly in front of you, hiding your entire frame behind his shoulders.

You heard Shownu sigh. "Move, Jeon."

He shook his head in return as his hand moved behind his back, showing you his palm. You were unsure if it was an act of courtesy or if he wanted you to place yours in his palm, so you just continued standing still. One glance behind you let you know that the security men were just as unamused about you two being there as the owners of the club.

"She has nothing to do with this. I'm here-"

"You know the rules, Won." A different voice suddenly spoke up. The man on the left side of the couch decided to speak up, using a nickname you hadn't even heard coming from Mingyu. Ever.

Noticing his fingertips moving, you looked down and found them extended as if waiting for something to hold onto. You hesitated at first but once you saw him clearly indicating you to place your hand in his, you did as asked. With one swift but surprising move, you were pulled right next to him, almost making you gasp. Looking up to your right, the side profile of the CEO glanced at you. You could see him eyeing you from the corner of his eye as he nodded, hoping to assure you of whatever was to come next. Your head turned to Shownu, who just kept a smug smile on his lips, eyeing you up and down the entire time. As if your outfit wasn't uncomfortable enough for you already, you now wished to rip it off your body and hide your figure in the biggest, longest, and thickest robe the world had ever seen.

With each step you took closer to the bad guy in the situation, your heart let you know just how bad of an idea it actually was. You had already had to let go of Wonwoo's hand, which you noticed only freed you hesitantly, keeping a tight grip on you until the very last second. There was one more step up separating you and the other men. While it did feel like a good and protective barrier, even though it would most definitely be the last thing keeping them away from you, you didn't get to appreciate it for as long as you would've liked to as a hand reached out for you. Looking up, you were once again met with brown eyes radiating anything but comfort. They were just as dark as Wonwoo's but yet so different. You had never been afraid of the man behind you, not even for a second. Intimated, of course, for obvious reasons, but his eyes always wrapped a cloak of comfort and protection around you while the two eyes now in front of you were clearly telling your body to run. Run and hide. Don't get closer. But you were very well aware that that wasn't an option at that moment.

Your shaky hand lifted to meet his palm, helping you up to the podium where you were now alone with the three men. Shownu's rough hands found their way to your hips, freezing your body even though they were much warmer than expected. He turned you around to face the room.

Now you understood where his confidence came from. Standing up there, you clearly felt more elevated than everyone else in the room. Better than anybody that even dared to enter this hole of a hell.

With a deep breath, you hoped to shake off the frightening feeling of the unknown as you glanced at Wonwoo, hoping to find some form of stability through him. He had hidden his hands in his pocket, carefully analyzing each man on the left and right, quickly regretting not coming up with a secret code between the two of you. He should've seen this coming. He knew the moment you'd step foot into that club, he was gonna lose the hold on you at some point, but he had prayed it wouldn't actually happen.

"Are you ready to listen to me now?" His voice was laced with slight annoyance. Shownu's hands left your hips, giving you time to breathe freely, but only for a second before you felt his hot breath against your ear.

He extended one finger in Wonwoo's direction. "Let me enjoy this here first."

You wanted to lock eyes with the man standing only a few feet away from you, but he didn't even dare. He had broken a promise he made to himself, and he couldn't even look at you. As annoyed as you wanted to be, the lips by the side of your head were too distracting, followed by the calloused fingertips running over your collarbone.

"Now onto you, beautiful," he whispered, making you close your eyes as you prayed to whoever was up there to just make it stop. "What's your name?"

"Y/N." You shot out. Of course, you could've lied. You should've lied. You noticed it quickly by Wonwoo's reaction, but in a fight-or-flight situation, lying wasn't going to be your strength.

He hummed into your ear, that almost sounded like a groan. His fingers danced around your shoulders, coming to a halt at the straps of your outfit. You wanted to call it a dress, but it was barely that. With one move, Shownu was suddenly behind you, his lips now close to your neck.

"You know, you're wearing quite the outfit here." His fingers hooked underneath your strap, to which your body immediately reacted by straightening and lifting your shoulders to stop him from what you thought would probably come next. "A bit too much for my liking." Without a warning and unfazed by your reaction, he pulled the right strap down.

"Son, I swear to-" Wonwoo's harsh voice hit your ear. You saw him take one step forward but he was quickly stopped by your sudden gasp echoing through the room once you felt cold metal meeting your lower back. Before anyone could react, you heard guns reloading and quickly realised what was being held against your skin. You closed your eyes.

"You swear to God what, Jeon? Huh? Be smart now." Shownu didn't show any sign of remorse. He wasn't going to be the one the back down from this.

Wonwoo raised his hands in defence, eyeing the other men who had raised their guns to point them at him. "I came here to talk to you. I don't wanna start anything."

"Who is she?" The older man nodded at you. "To you."

A sigh came from the CEO. "My partner." His comment made you look at him.

Shownu suddenly laughing out loud caught you off guard. "Yeah, right." His rough fingers graced your jaw and down your neck. "You really think I'd believe you bringing your own bitch here?" He chuckled again and took back the metal against your back as he rounded you to stand to your right again. "I mean, I must give it to you. You played the part of protective boyfriend pretty fucking well, but I know you better than that, Jeon. You can't fool me." And just when you thought you were out of the line of fire, he raised the gun again, close, yet not touching, to your temple. Your breathing cut off immediately. Something in your body stopped you from crying because God, you just wanted to start weeping.

"Business partner," Wonwoo quickly told him. "We work together."

Shownu raised one eyebrow as he chuckled. "No shit." He lowered the gun again, letting you let out the breath you were holding. "What kind of business?"

"Not the business you're thinking of. I told you I'm out of that." The CEO explained. "I bought a company."

"I know that. You don't think I watch the news, idiot?" His question made Wonwoo almost roll his eyes, but he knew to hold himself back.

"She used to work there, now she's COO."

A silence fell over the room. Glancing to the side, you found Shownu, looking straight ahead, his eyebrows slightly scrunched as he turned to glare at you, a smirk forming on his lips as soon as your eyes met.

"Yoon Y/N." Hearing your name fall from his lips made you gulp.

"Wow," he laughed and directed his attention back to Wonwoo. "You took Sungho's company and his little princess? You are cold-hearted, Jeon." After a look up and down your body, he licked his lips. "He used to keep her so hidden, and you're out here, showing her off like the price that she is. I taught you well." Listening to them speak as if you weren't even in the room with them made you want to accept the offer of squeezing out the eyes of every man in the room.

"You didn't teach me shit." Wonwoo gained back the confidence he usually holds himself up with once no gun in the room was pointed at him or you again. He knew very well what he could and could not do in each situation, having studied the rival group for years. When no snarky remark came in response, he continued with a sigh. "Now are you finally ready to listen to me?"

By now, you had brought the strap of your outfit back up on your shoulder, hiding your body behind your crossed arms once again, hoping and praying to escape from this place as quickly as possible.

Shownu let a small laugh tumble from his lips. "You must be pretty damn desperate to come to me."

He didn't need an answer. It seemed like everyone in the room already knew. No one in their right mind would even dare to set foot in this building if not desperately needed.

Yet, Wonwoo gave in with a nod.

"That Park fucker, I swear to God," Shownu leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his fingers running through his hair.

After shooing every single person out of the room, he got situated back onto the couch, Wonwoo taking a seat to his right at the corner, where another member of Shownu's group had been sitting merely a few minutes ago. He brought you along to sit down next to him after making sure you were somewhat doing alright. Good to know he still cared after pretending a little too well that he didn't.

"You know him?" The CEO wondered, saying out loud what went through your mind as well.

After sharing the entire story of the break-in, and the lawsuit, followed by the evidence brought in by Sehun and finishing off with Jihoon expertly recommending the two of you to pay Monsta X a visit, Shownu seemed to know a little more than you expected.

The rival nodded. "The last time you were here-"

"We went over this-"

"Those were his men."

Wonwoo stopped. He wasn't expecting that to come out. "What? His men?" Getting a nod in return. With a loud sigh, he stood up. "And you thought it was us?! When it was him all along?! What the fuck was the interrogation for then?!"

"Sit back down before I put a bullet through your head," Shownu told him. The low calmness in his voice a little sending a wave of fright through your body.

But Wonwoo didn't budge. "Why didn't you say anything?" Lowering his voice as well.

"You could be working with him for all I know. You really wanna fight about that now?!"

"Just admit that you were in the wrong."

"You better shut your fucking mouth. I'm the only one that can help you right now." Now both men were standing, facing each other with heavy breaths. It made Wonwoo chuckle as he shook his head.

"You're pathetic." Walking around the seating space as Shownu sat back down.

"So, what do you need from me?"

"The security camera videos," the CEO answered him. "Give me that, and we're out."

The rival straightened his back. "You want to have security camera footage to bring it to court and reveal what's going on in my club. I think the fuck not. You can see yourself out." He got up and was quick on his feet as he stepped down from the slightly elevated part of the room, walking towards the door.

You had finally had enough, and just as Wonwoo was about to open his mouth, you beat him to it. "They won't know it's from here." Shownu stopped in his tracks, only to turn around with a smug smirk plastered on his face.

He raised an eyebrow. "So she can actually talk." Commenting on your choice to stay quiet for the night. While he seemed amused by your outburst, Wonwoo was anything but that and quickly took in his position from before, covering half of your frame with his.

"Your watermark on the cameras isn't your fucking logo, and we won't tell them where we got the footage from."

The rival redirected his attention, leaving you in the back once again. "And you expect me to believe you?" The older man crossed his arms in front of his chest, his feet wider apart to show dominance in the situation.

Wonwoo copied him, only hiding his hands in his pockets. "You want to watch him go down just as much as we do."

Shownu sighed out loud in clear annoyance, running a hand through his hair. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend. You're taking that stupid saying a bit too seriously, Jeon."

"Trust me, you're anything but my friend."

You were advised to wait outside of the security man's room at the very back of the hallway, suggesting that what they would find on each of those videos was anything but pleasant. What you thought of the way Wonwoo was handling bringing you into this scene was still undecided by you. On one hand, you were definitely thankful you were able to stay clear of witnessing anything you'd prefer to keep unseen, but on the other hand, you were in this shithole just as much as Wonwoo and him treating you like some fragile dove was almost humiliating. Yes, of course, you weren't all that big and strong as him and whatnot, and yes, you were definitely more scared of whoever these men here were than you'd like to admit, but being a little damsel in distress would feel a bit different, you thought.

Question after question kept running through your head as you walked along the walls of the cold hallway. The stones on the side made everything just look more and more like a dungeon, sending yet another chill down your spine. This used to be a place Wonwoo would visit frequently... most of his friends along with him... How much of this timeline in Wonwoo's life did you actually want to know about? He seemed to have put it behind him, but that's when you remembered one of your dad's sayings.

"Your past will forever be a part of you."

You were too young to understand what he meant and to this very day, you couldn't recall what the context of the moment was. But it stuck with you. And now it made you think. Every single thing that had happened with Wonwoo in the past 48 hours... what were you getting yourself into? Did you want to just let yourself fall into the arms of another man when you swore to yourself you wouldn't be doing that exact thing? And what man were you even trusting here? Back in the day, he was just the stupid douchebag, a rich kid of a CEO, then he became your boss, and now... now he was a man you found comfort in. A man you could trust... you... you tried to trust. But... he had secrets. Secrets that only now are making an appearance and God only knows, if everything with Chanyeol had never happened, how would your relationship with Wonwoo even have turned out? Would you still think of him as the annoying bachelor turned CEO or would be able to see the caring man he was behind this facade? The man who despised his father's wrongs and tried to do everything right again. You saw the way he acted around his mother, and it almost made your knees give in. It was a gentleness you had never seen before. It was so foreign to you, but it made you oh that much more jealous... why did it make you jealous? You hated to admit it, and Binna would slap you and tell you 'I told you so' but in your head, you were finally able to admit it. Jealous of a soft man's touch. Jealous of someone caring for you. Worrying about you. No gang member would act like that, right? You almost chuckled at the thought of Shownu treating a woman with respect. That was not a man with the possibility of having respect for anyone but himself. But Wonwoo... no, he wasn't like that. Maybe he had changed. Potentially, he had been similar to Shownu in the past... The mere thought of it made you want to throw up... But no, he told you himself, that he had promised himself to become everything his father hadn't been growing up. But after all, this kind of life had still been a part of him at some point. The dark side. The side where men would spend hours in clubs just like the Monbebe, touching, pulling, and groping women. The image of seeing him or any other of his friends in either one of these rooms behind those doors or upstairs, enjoying a drink by the bar, eyeing women up and down as they passed them, touching them, kissing them, taking th-

The door the two men had disappeared behind a few minutes ago opened, revealing the man that had been occupying your brain for the entirety of the time you had spent alone. The smoke from your brain overworking finally stopped, letting you take in a deep breath you didn't remember holding in. Too many thoughts for one night...

"You're okay?" Where the first words coming from him as he noticed the clear distance you had out between yourself and the door.

You nodded with a shaky smile in return. Before you could say anything, Shownu made an appearance behind the CEO, closing the door before you could even try to get a look inside.

"Are you ready to leave my club now?" He snapped at Wonwoo. Clearly, the two hadn't magically just become best friends behind closed doors.

Wonwoo turned around with a nod. "You won't see me here again."

"I'm counting on it." He leaned to the side slightly, sending a smirk your way. "You on the other hand, I would love to invite you someday again."

You couldn't even react as the CEO placed a hand on the older man's bigger chest. Their cold eyes met. "Over my dead body."

"I can make that happen." Shownu smiled, smacking the hand off of him.

Without another word, Wonwoo turned to you, taking a few steps forward to step in line with you, his hand finding a comforting place on your lower back.

"Come on, let's go," he whispered. "Let's get out of here."

"You got everything?" You wondered, surprising yourself with the steadiness of your voice after keeping quiet for so long.

He nodded. "Everything we need."

Before you could run up the stairs again, the sound of the older man's voice echoed through the hallway. "You better take Park down, Jeon."

Wonwoo said goodbye with a raised hand in return, before both of you finally made your way out.

After getting out of the club, the CEO had given you his jacket once again before you found Hongseok already waiting for you. With you not knowing what to do or say, and Wonwoo unsure of what was going on in your head, the car ride was spent in complete silence. Neither one of you wanted to even dare interrupt the quietness you shared, even though it was anything but comfortable. Good for you, that you were too lost in thought to notice him moving around in his seat almost nervously. You didn't even realise that Hongseok was driving you back to Wonwoo's place. At least not until you felt a tap on your shoulder, making you turn to the side, only to find Wonwoo waiting by the open door. His extended hand was waiting for you to reach out for it to help you out. You quietly thanked the driver before letting the CEO guide you into the building, into the elevator, and right into his apartment.

It was only then he dared to speak. "You want something to drink?"

You snapped back into reality. "Hm?"

He turned back around as he was just about to enter the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?"

You shook your head slightly, "No, no, I'm good. I had enough wine last night."

Wonwoo couldn't help but hold back a chuckle. "I meant like water... or tea?"

"Oh. Ehm... yeah, okay," you nodded this time. Remembering, you still had your shoes on, you followed him into the kitchen, taking a seat on one of the barstools. That man had way too many places to sit and eat for a one-bedroom apartment.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Your head snapped up to look at him standing by the sink. You nodded. "Yeah..." Before bending down to release your feet from the confinement of those terrible high heels. Wonwoo watched your slight struggle, leaving the cups on the countertop as he rounded the kitchen island to bend down in front of you. You let your hands drop, already knowing where this was going. Your eyes analysed his fingers playing with the clasp on the leather strap.

"You know, it's okay if... you're a bit... unsure," he softly spoke, not losing focus on his task.

"Unsure?" You wondered.

"Does scarred sound better?" He looked up. The sight almost made you gasp. Just like all the other times when you had been in similar situations. Him... on his knees... in front of you... looking up at you with those dark eyes that looked so cold yet made you feel so warm.

You shook your head. "I'm not scared."

"Okay," he simply answered before letting both of your shoes fall to the floor. A soft moan of freedom tumbled from your lips.

"Thanks."

His fingers running up your feet slightly didn't go unnoticed by you, even though you think it should've gone by the way Wonwoo just simply stood back up and got back to making you your cup of tea.

"I'm not scared," you repeated, knowing that you mostly said it, trying to reassure yourself of the truth of the statement. "Maybe a little weirded out... but not scared."

He nodded again. "I understand. And I get it."

An important question was tickling the top of your tongue. One that you had been asking yourself ever since he disappeared with Shownu, leaving you alone with your thoughts in the hallway. They gave you too much time to think and now you were starting the question too many things you shouldn't even be thinking about. But you couldn't help it. You had to know.

"How-" As soon as the first word fell from your lips, you stopped yourself. Wonwoo's head shot in your direction, leaving the water to boil in the back. Seeing his eyes trained on you just made you forget about every worry you had before. This man couldn't possibly...

"Ask," he assured you, leaning on the counter as he watched you debate with yourself. He wanted you to ask. He almost needed you to.

You stuttered. "I... I don't know if I want to know." Your voice was suddenly quieter than before as you looked down at your hands that had started a thumb war.

"You deserve to know," he simply let you know.

"But..." you sighed out loud, almost in annoyance. Who were you annoyed at though? "Jesus... I just." You tried collecting your thoughts as well as you possibly could, but there was way too much going on and your brain didn't have nearly the capacity you needed it to have at that very moment. "I don't know what to think. I... It's just weird."

"I understand that." He continued to let you know, nodding along with you as his gentle voice reached you.

With a desperate sigh, you let your elbows rest on top of the counter, bringing your hands up to cover your face. You had to. "How involved were you in the Monbebe?"

He hummed, pushing himself off to stand straight again. "I wasn't one of those men sitting, drinking and pulling women down into their lap, if that's what you're thinking."

You nodded shyly, whispering almost to yourself. "That is what I was thinking..."

"I hate that club just as much as you do now," he sent you an almost sympathetic smile before turning back again to finish the tea. You noticed two cups next to each other.

"I don't know if that's possible," you chuckled, brushing over your arms that were still covered by his jacket.

He copied you. "You're right. You probably hate it just a little bit more than me, but trust me," he placed the cup for you right under your nose, "I didn't enjoy even a second I had to spend in there. Not back then, not today."

You nodded. Still hesitant about asking more questions, Wonwoo noticed your nervous frame, deciding to continue to avoid another uncomfortable silence washing over the two of you.

"Shownu's grandfather and mine started it all." The beginning of his story made you look up, watching him set down his own mug. "God knows what exactly happened between them but it all started with them. Then, our fathers took over, and the rivalry just continued. It started as a normal business rivalry, you know, just... stupid shit and jealousy over the success of the other one. But then..." He took a deep breath. "My father made some really stupid decisions, and it brought him to the darker side of that business. And before he knew it, Shownu's father lured him into helping him and... it all took a very bad turn from then on. The whole gang shit- I... it's stupid. But if you're born into it, you're born into it. There's not much you can do. So I had I was pretty much forced into continuing whatever my father had started, but... I really wanted to make it right more so. Shownu obviously had his doubts about that, and it wasn't easy to convince him, but somehow, don't ask how, I managed to do so."

"You," you interrupted him, "You don't have to tell me all of this."

"But you deserve to know," he answered. "I shouldn't have brought you there. It was a stupid idea on my side, and now you have to carry that with you for the rest of-"

"Hey," you stopped him gently. "It was my choice to go with you. I could've said no."

"Still," he shook your comment off.

"No." You didn't even let him continue. "We had to go through that and... now we did." You shared a moment of silence, looking into his eyes before opening your mouth again. "But... I gotta be honest... I don't know how much I want to know... about that part of... your past."

Wonwoo sighed, his gaze on the mug on the countertop. "I told you I want to be honest with you, and you deserve to know everything-"

"But I also told you that I trust you," you quickly added before he could take his thoughts much further, making him look up at you. "And I meant that." You shook your head. "I don't have to know everything about that... Jesus, I don't even want to, honestly. Not now, at least." Adding the last statement a bit quieter.

With a deep breath, Wonwoo decided to speak up after watching to stir your tea with the spoon he gave you. He thought carefully about each word he let out. "I think you might see me a bit differently after... what happened that last time there."

"The bloodbath?" You wondered, remembering the comments Shownu and him made within the first seconds of meeting him.

Wonwoo just nodded, taking a big gulp from his drink.

"I don't care," your simple answer surprised him as his eyes fell back on you again. "Don't tell me." You shrugged, "In Jihoon's office, I... I wanted you to tell me what the hell was going on because I was just... confused and... I guess scared. But now..." Another sigh fell from your lips, slightly shakier than before. "I just don't think I want to know." Because you were scared. You might not verbally admit it, but God... you didn't even want to imagine what could've happened back then.

"Okay," Wonwoo understood you. He couldn't have been more thankful to leave that story to tell at some point in the future. "Not today. Another time."

"Another time," you agreed with him, finally bringing up the now lukewarm mug to your lips, letting it trickle down your throat, sending a wash of comfort through your body.

The two of you started talking about the next steps including, getting the videos to Jihoon, him bringing every piece of evidence to the court, and what could further happen. Possible delays, future court dates, and how to deal with the situation at work. It almost felt a little too nice. Too... domestic. You seating on one of the barstools, him in the kitchen, moving around as he got himself a glass of water, getting you one as well even without asking you. All while talking about work.

Before the scene could feel too good for your own good, you snapped back.

"Okay," you sighed, moving around with your hands awkwardly, "I should... probably go home now." After bending down to snatch your shoes into your hands, you made your way over to the door.

Wonwoo straightened his back from his leaning position over the counter. "Yeah, sure," he followed you to the entrance, his right hand suspiciously in the pocket of his pants.

You turned around to say one last thing when the close proximity of his chest surprised you, making you forget what you were about to say as you just stared up into his eyes. He smirked at you before you felt his hand on your free one again, placing something in your palm before taking a small step back to let you look down. That damn key again.

"Won-" you started with a heavy breath, but the show of his palms stopped you.

"You're not taking a cab or public transport. Not in this outfit."

His comment made you look down. The 'dress'... right... But you also were still wearing his jacket, which you decided to shrug off to give back to him, already deciding that fighting about the car wasn't going to get you anywhere. His hands on your shoulders stopped your movements.

"You're also keeping the jacket on."

You sighed, "You're really not gonna let me make any decisions, huh?"

His gentle smile sent somewhat of a tingle to your heart, making you almost grin too. "Not after today, no." It wasn't a one-time thing and didn't have much to do with the events of that day- both of you knew that, neither one of you decided to comment on it.

His voice had suddenly become much lower, or maybe it had always been that low, but the closeness of his body let you register it more.

Understandingly, you nodded along. "Today was... long."

"And weird," he finished your thought, his gaze still down at you while you stood in front of him, feeling smaller than usual. In just a skimpy dress, some almost see-through tights, and his suit jacket, along with your shoes in one hand and his car keys in the other, you could've jumped straight out of the depths of his imagination.

"Yeah," you breathed out. He had definitely come closer. He wasn't THAT close before. Right?... Right?! The grip on your shoes tightened as your heartbeat surprised you by speeding up. God...

You should've already been out the door. Why on earth were you still standing in his apartment, barely ready to actually walk out. Your body knew why. Your heart knew why. But your brain decided to yet decline what was going on. Your breathing and stuttering ratted you out though.

You looked around frantically, running a hand through your hair as you suddenly created a bigger space between the two of you, not noticing the hand Wonwoo just dropped back to be by his side.

"I... I'm gonna go." Without waiting for another remark from his side, you turned around. You didn't get far though.

"Y/N," his voice struck you, immediately making you turn back to him. Your face screamed hope but dropped quickly as he continued. "I'm sorry." Wait. No. No no no. That wasn't supposed to happen. That's not what usually followed the call out of a name.

You scrunched your eyebrows, all hope and desperation gone, now replaced by pure confusion. "For what?"

With two big steps, he caught up with you, not wasting another second as he reached out, placed his hand on your neck and pulled you in, his lips meeting yours instantly. The sudden movement made you jolt in surprise, your full hands coming up to his chest to steady yourself.

You quickly fell into a matching rhythm, your lips moving against each other like butter. His fingers tightened on your neck, truly pulling you in as closely as he possibly could, getting a soft moan of you return. Kissing you wasn't enough, this man wanted to breathe you in. His free hand came up to get a hold of the shoes you were still holding onto. You let go, giving him the freedom to let them drop to the floor behind him. As soon as you could feel his lips distancing from yours, a whine dared to escape from you. He kept your noses close enough to touch.

"Stay," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your lips. Wonwoo didn't give you time to respond, smashing his lips back on yours. You continued to enjoy this moment, just moving along with him, breathing heavily as you felt his left hand come to your hips, travelling to your lower back. You had to let go.

"Wonwoo-"

"Please." He didn't let you finish. Pleading against your lips as you were close to distancing yourself from him. You let your eyes meet. Your eyebrows raised, scrunched in desperation, his just as usual low and unsaying of any of his emotions. But you could hear it in his voice. The slight shake. He wanted this. He needed this. Just as much as you did. Your breaths were already becoming one, your mouths begging to touch.

Fuck it.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down onto you. He let go of your neck, both of his hands immediately working on getting rid of the jacket that was still covering your body. And you let him. He undressed you hastily, throwing the anorak somewhere onto the floor - neither of you could care less. Before you could intertwine your hands behind his neck again, his hand found yours, taking back the key, only to make it join the jacket. A chuckle left your lips at his eagerness. Everything happened while your lips were still dancing with each other. Not fighting. Not moving. Dancing, as they fit like they were made for each other. You didn't want it to stop, convinced that it would have the same effect as holding your breath forever.

Wonwoo's hands travelled lower until they reached your ass and he crouched down before whispering into your mouth, "Jump." Letting you hop into his arms, his hands firmly on your behind to steady you. Your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, hoping to be as close to him as you possibly could. You let your fingers start to play with the hair on the back of his neck, tugging slightly, making him chuckle as he leaned back.

"Careful," he whispered before lowering you down onto his bed, his much wider frame covering yours, engulfing you in comfort as he just hovered above you.

Wonwoo didn't give you enough time to enjoy his lips on yours with the softness of his bed underneath before he moved onto your neck. His mouth started following your jawline, down to the side of your neck while your hands found a good place on his shoulders. You moaned out loud, not even caring about holding it back.

"We've been here once before, right?" His voice vibrated on your skin. He travelled back up to kiss your cheek, keeping his face at a distance to look you in the eyes as his fingers petted some strands of hairs out of your face. "But I'm planning on finishing it this time. Okay?"

In desperation, you nodded, hoping to get further and get his body back fully onto yours. "Please do," you whined, his hands exploring your still-covered body.

Wonwoo smirked down at you, "I got you, baby," giving you a quick peck, which you had hoped would turn into a continuation of before, but were let down when he let go again. "Let's get you out of this first." Rubbing the material of your dress. He stood back up on his two feet, getting a hold of your hand to pull you up with him. Before you had enough time to gaze at his face, taking in every inch of his perfectly sculpted facial structure, he turned you around softly. His lips immediately went back to his neck as his fingers looked for the zip he had closed up a few hours ago, getting a soft moan from you in return.

"You look so beautiful in this," he whispered against your skin, sending a chill down your spine. "But you have no idea how fucking hard it was to keep my hands off you the entire evening." With each word he spoke, the butterflies in your stomach grew wilder and wilder. You just wanted him to never stop.

Once the zip was all the way down, he let the fabric drop down your arms, and you let him. Why should you stop at this moment? As soon as the dress fell to the floor, you stepped out of it and were turned back to face Wonwoo. His hand came up to cradle your face.

"Do you remember how I said I wanted to do this right?" You only trusted yourself to nod, scared of what sound might leave your mouth if you dared to speak. He grinned, "Good." And his lips were back on yours. Swiftly, he also got rid of your bra before his hands went down on the side of your thighs, pulling you in and making you wrap your legs around him once again. He took the opportunity to kneel down onto the bed, getting both of you onto the mattress and making sure your head met a pillow. Just like before, his lips left yours yet again to trace a line down your neck, only now also following the natural line of your collarbone before going further down and down. He didn't stop until he reached your breasts, kissing the right side first, getting closer and closer to your nipple, waiting for your moans to get higher. That's when you started to feel his tongue just on the outline of your nipple, going around it in circles, making you lift your body up automatically. His grip on your hips tightened, pushing you down to lay you flat, making you unable to move, no matter how much your body was begging for friction.

Wonwoo moved onto your left side, his mouth leaving wet kisses all over your tits as his tongue tickled your skin. You had let your hands move on their own. They found Wonwoo's grasp as they tried to loosen his grasp to give you some more freedom to move around. No chance. That man wasn't gonna let go of you any time soon.

"Wonwoo," your breathy voice made him come up to your lips again, teasing you by hovering above you, only coming close enough that your lips could potentially touch if you just moved up less than an inch. He hummed, giving you the notice to continue talking. Easier said than done when he started to place kisses all over your face again until he reached your neck.

"Please," you continued to beg for more. He couldn't help but chuckle slightly.

"Why the rush, gorgeous?" If only he knew what all of those nicknames were doing to you. Well, he was about to find out.

Not giving you time to respond, he moved himself down your body, making sure to resume his trail of kisses down your entire body. As if it was his goal to have touched every bit of your skin with his lips - if only you knew that was his exact goal. Maybe not for just tonight, but as a life goal.

His skilled finger quickly made their way into the seam of your tights, pulling them down. Slowly. Gently. Painfully.

You groaned.

"Let me take my time with you," he whispered. You shuffled yourself up, your elbows steadying you as you looked down at him now pulling off the thin piece of clothing and throwing it onto the floor.

Your heavy breathing didn't stop. "You're teasing." It wasn't a question or a cry of desperation. Maybe just a bit... but it was also a simple fact.

Wonwoo smirked proudly, getting closer to you again, stopping right in front of your face. "Good." He gave you a quick peck. "Now you know what it's like having to stand next to you every goddamn day and not be able to touch you."

"Who says you can't?" Where the sudden boost in confidence came from, was a question to everyone involved.

His low chuckle sent a warm rush right down where you were begging for him the most. "Well, I am a gentleman after all." He got slightly closer, his breath now tickling your lips, continuing his tease. You were too focused on his mouth just barely touching yours, not noticing the hand he had let travel lower, diving right into your underwear. The tip of his finger grazed your clit, getting a quick shutter and deep moan in return. To silence you, Wonwoo was quick to break the tension, covering your mouth with his once again, his tongue brushing over your lips immediately too.

As if his kisses alone didn't already make you moan enough, his fingers that had started moving in circles on your clit made it hard for you to even concentrate on moving your lips along with his.

He pushed your body down again to lay flat on the mattress before diverting his attention back onto your skin. His free hand had gotten rid of your panties swiftly, giving him more freedom to pleasure you with his fingers alone.

God... his fucking fingers... so skillfully moving over your bundle of nerves before slowly daring to go even just a bit lower. You felt him smile against your neck as soon as he came in contact with the wetness of your hole already waiting for him. His finger tickled your entrance for a quick second before diving in, making you bite your lip, not letting the high-pitched moan escape fully. It was just that Wonwoo was having none of that.

Within a split of a second, his was right in front of you again, his fingers that had just been inside of you, now on your chin as his thumb pulled your lower lip free from your teeth. He lowered himself down to whisper into your ear.

"Don't you dare even try holding back a moan tonight."

With no warning, he slowly pushed his two fingers, still covered in your wetness up to your mouth. You opened up wide enough for them to fit, already knowing what he wanted.

"Let me hear you, beautiful," he encouraged you, kissing the side of your neck to get a reaction from you as you moaned on his fingers, licking them clean of your taste. Only a second later, he pulled them out again, drawing a line down your torso until he reached your tits, engulfing one in his grip as his upper body disappeared from your sight again.

It was only when you started to feel his mouth on your upper thighs that you knew where he was going. His free hand was already tapping your legs to open up, giving him access to your inner thigh. Even though this wasn't the first time you had Wonwoo in this position, it felt just like it did back then. Perfectly intoxicating. You couldn't get enough of his touch, his lips, or... just him.

Wonwoo was everything you told yourself to never fall for ever again. But here you were, underneath the man in question, letting your body react freely against his touch.

Even though you expected it, you couldn't help the loud moan to fall from your lips as soon as his mouth came into contact with your core. His tongue didn't waste a moment, immediately giving your clit all of the attention. He started circling it before using his entire mouth to suck, getting a follow-up of multiple heavy moans from you in return. Your fingers had started holding onto his hair desperately, almost pulling too hard, yet Wonwoo didn't budge. With one hand, he made sure to keep your hips as still as possible while his other one had joined his mouth by your pussy, his fingers teasing your entrance yet again. His lips occupied with sucking your soul out of your clit, and his fingers pushing inside of you made you jolt your hips up, only to get pushed down harshly again, not even a second later.

As much as you would've wanted to form words, letting him know just how good he was making you feel, you couldn't. No understandable word from the dictionary was able to form in your mouth. You were communicating in moans, groans and heavy breathing. And Wonwoo understood every single loud you were making. He was able to read you like his favourite book, remember you like his favourite lyrics and play you like an instrument he had been playing forever. Everything just fit... too perfectly.

The squelching sounds of his fingers moving in and out of you filled the room, entertaining the two of you like a song in the background. Mixed with your moans, Wonwoo's cock was already reacting to it. From the moment he had thrown you onto the bed, to be completely honest, if not as soon as he had seen you in that pathetic excuse of a dress.

He couldn't hide a smirk once he felt your walls starting to tighten around his fingers, only letting him know to keep on going. He had switched to tickling your clit with his tongue again, the tip of it going up and down, circling the bud before pressing flat against it. Anything to make you come undone right under his touch - his biggest accomplishment. The harsh tugging on his hair got a deep groan from him, vibrating against your pussy, sending the last wave of pleasure you needed to finally release on his fingers with a loud moan. You fought against his grip, lifting your hips into his mouth as your orgasm hit you. It didn't stop him from continuing, still moving his fingers, only slightly slower now, making sure that his lips were also gently sucking on your clit, focusing more on kissing it, making you jolt with each touch. You whined out loud, your legs tightening around his head. This was heaven. No need to question it. This must be it. No other possibilities.

"Fuck," your uneven breathing filled the room, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he kept his head down, working you through your high as you tried to push him back. "Wonwoo-" you cried out. "Please- God..."

With a smug grin on his lips, he raised his head, looking up at you still trying to catch your breath.

"You call that teasing?"

You had to chuckle, covering your face with one hand.

Wonwoo pushed himself up, coming back to face you, taking your hand in his to look you in the eyes.

"You did so well for me," he whispered against your lips. You didn't know how to react, so you just pulled him in closer by his collar. A kiss was answer enough. That's when you noticed something.

You pulled back. "How come you're still in your clothes while I'm naked underneath you?"

He smiled. "Well, ladies' first." His comment made your eyes roll. He chuckled. "But I'd be happy to change that." Diving back to continue kissing you with just as much passion as he did when he pulled you in back by the entrance door.

Your fingers got to work on the buttons of his dress shirt while he was occupied with getting his pants open and off. You got rid of his shirt, letting it drop onto the floor by your side. To get out of his pants, Wonwoo sat back, letting his underwear go as well. Before you went further, you let your eyes travel over his torso, taking in every single piece of art decorating his skin. His shoulder was covered in black and grey ink, going down his right arm, hugging his biceps. Oh, to run you tongue over each piece… You snapped back and quickly joined him, hopping onto his lap, before he even had the time to get on top of you again. You had been waiting way too long for this. Way longer than you'd like to admit.

He made sure to keep his hands on your ass, placing you comfortably on his lap, his erection high, slapped against his abdomen. You didn't need to look down to know how big he was. You knew. You remembered. Hell, you even dreamt of it after the times he had already fucked you. Don't tell Binna that.

With his lips back on yours, much more eager than before, you let one hand rest on his chest while the other had gone down, swiping over your still glistening cunt, wetting your palm before you grasped his cock. An immediate moan came from Wonwoo, his breath heavy in your mouth, groaning against each other as you felt him nudge his hips into your touch. You kept your hand on the upper half of his dick, your thumb brushing over the top, spreading the pre-cum all over the burning red tip. The chill going through his body didn't go unnoticed by you, making you smirk against his lips as his fingers dug deeper into your ass, making you throw your head back in pleasure. Your hand had started running up and down his entire erection, making him hide his face in your neck as he kissed it again, sucking harshly on one specific spot he remembered you reacting to the hardest. As if it was a competition, your hand movements became harder and sloppier while his kisses became much harsher. Both of you had forgotten about moaning, turning to groaning as it relieved much more of the pleasure.

Without a warning, Wonwoo slapped your hand away and lowered you closer to the mattress, his arm on your lower back to hold you up. His free hand grabbed the base of his cock, directing it towards your entrance as you held yourself up with your elbows. He teased you by circling your hole with the tip of his dick, just waiting to fill you up.

You threw your head back in desperation. "GOD, Wonwoo just put your cock inside of me, please." With a low chuckle, he followed your plead. You couldn't hold yourself up and let your back hit the mattress as both of his hands had found their way to your hips, holding onto them as he backed out and went straight in again. Just like with his fingers - painfully slow. The roughness of each vein that decorated his erection grazed your walls, only intensifying each thrust.

"Fuck," you heard him curse under his breath as he lowered his body, his mouth back on your right breast as his right hand played with your left nipple.

You moaned out loud. "Fuck, Wonwoo," trying to move your hips along with his rhythm.

He came back up, his hand now on your neck as he groaned right into your ear. "Jesus, you feel so good." His thumb was brushing against your cheek.

"Won-" your moan was interrupted by an uncontrollable whine you had to let out as he was suddenly going deeper, making you realise he hadn't put his full length inside of you up until you. "Please," you stuttered with heavy breaths, "Please make me come."

His hand left your neck, immediately going down to your clit, after dipping into your wetness, putting pressure on your little bundle of nerves.

You nudged your hips up, "FUck, yes." Crying out loud as he kissed your jawline. Listening to his moans so close to your ear, feeling his thrusts becoming more and more irregular, almost sloppy, made you all that more aroused, knowing how close he must be getting.

With another hit at your G-spot, you almost couldn't hold back anymore.

"Wonwoo, I'm gonna cum," you whined, getting his attention as he kissed you deeply.

"Come on, baby. I'm close too. Come on. Just like that," he encouraged you, keeping his rhythm as steady as he possibly could, which wasn't much. "Good girl." Sending a heavy rush of arousal right to your pussy.

With his fingers right on your clit, his breathing against your ear and just feeling his chest move against you, his cock hitting all the right places inside of you, you didn't dare to hold back, letting go right as it hit you. A loud cry tumbled from your lips, your head digging into the blanket and mattress underneath you. The tightness of your walls almost pushing his cock out of you as the pleasure rushed through your body.

Wonwoo pushed himself up, and with three last hard thrusts into you, you felt him fill you up just as you would have begged him to. The warmth of his seamen made another moan come from you. Your hands were quickly trying to find his that were once again on your hips - seemed like they had found their favourite place.

His movements had slowed down, now making sure to work you through your uneven breathing as you came down from your second orgasm.

For a good few minutes, he continued to rock the both of you back and forth comfortably, lowering himself down to cover your frame with his wide shoulders, kissing you deeply without having to ask him to. His fingers tangled in your hair to make sure he'd pull you in as close as possible while his hips stopped moving, only one last time as he pulled out, leaving you cold and empty on the bed.

With one last kiss on your cheek, and a quick whisper of, "Stay here," he disappeared into the bathroom. You laid still. You put your right hand right under your boobs, still trying to even out your breathing.

That's what's supposed to happen when someone calls your name out in such desperation.

Taglist: @nctxtrash @leicy0756 @hoe4wonwoo @jeonwonhi @nothingbutadeadesceane @smileywoo @angelarin @onewoowonderboy @goodforgyu @kavvs @sugarmilkchan @sweetheart-gs @wonforgyu @lilactangerine @meltinghershey @wonw00t @soonchanshua @jayswifeuwu @allorysayshi @shaurenlaw @drama-1998-girl @yoonren07 @malakasae @sseuyeon @venusprada @jeminiepabo @billboard-singer @safsaf1980 @monmarguerite @ji-jii-visha @renjunphile @haogyuslut @destinyg237 @taestrwbrry @renkkuri @travelleratheart101 @love-svt @sunshinein17 @morklee02 @wonuziex @pwwarkjisung @hokuuuu @clvudisan @awyunh @restlesswritings @woohaosworld @caratlove10 @woo8hao @misssugarlips @heednpy

#amour-haine & co.#amour haine & co #wonwoo x reader #imagine #series #smut #fluff #jeon wonwoo #Seventeen #monsta x #x reader #Dark romance #ceo!wonwoo #Office!au #ceo!au

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fairyniceyeah · 20 days

Text

💎 I love my team, I love my crew (Part 5/7)

Title from Super (SEVENTEEN)

ILMTILMC Part I ILMTILMC Part II ILMTILMC Part III ILMTILMC Part IV

Summary: Jun receives bad news.

CW: emeto, high fevers, IVs

Sickies: Joshua + Seungkwan + S.Coups/Seungcheol + Vernon + Woozi/Jihoon + Minghao Caretakers: Jun + DK/Seokmin + Dino/Chan + Wonwoo + Mingyu + Hoshi/Soonyoung + Jeonghan

💎😸

“You probably know better than me who we should check on first, Jun-ssi”, the medic said kindly.

Jun sighed and mentally went through the list of members.

Seungcheol? Vomiting and fever, Vernon and Dino were with him

Jeonghan? Fine

Joshua? Bad headache and vomiting, under Seokmin’s care

Jun? Fine

Hoshi? Fine

Wonwoo? Fine

Woozi? Vomiting but he seemed better and had Jeonghan and Hoshi with him

Minghao? Sick from both ends but finally asleep and on medication

Mingyu? Fine

Seokmin? Fine

Seungkwan? Vomiting but was with Vernon and Dino

Vernon? Fine, probably grossed out, but fine

Dino? Fine

At least there were still more members who were fine than those who were not.

“Let’s go see how Joshua-hyung is doing”, he decided. He hadn’t seen Joshua himself yet and he knew that Seokmin would probably start bouncing off the wall if he was alone for much longer. Jun could sympathize. He couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to just stay with a sick member alone cooped up in a cabin all day - and then be a social butterfly like Seokmin.

Knowing that even knocking on the door could be hurtful to Joshua’s ears, Jun just carefully pushed down the doorknob and peeked inside. It was completely dark inside, not an ounce of light spilling inside except for from the opened door.

Once his eyes were adjusted, Jun was able to spot Joshua asleep on one bed. He seemed peaceful enough. Yet his breath caught in his throat when he spotted Seokmin laying on the other bed, completely undisturbed by the new arrivals. Was he sick too?

Jun rushed over, trying to keep quiet as much as possible but also be there as fast as he could. Seokmin didn’t stir. Placing his hand on Seokmin’s brow he found it blessedly cool. At least he wasn’t running a fever.

At the touch, Seokmin did wake up, starting to squirm under Jun’s hand and sighing. His eyes blinked open. “Junnie-hyung? What are you doing?”

“Are you sick too? We found you here asleep…”

Seokmin laughed softly, a huff of warm air, and sat up. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and said: “Nah, I’m good. I must have fallen asleep. It’s pretty boring in here. Shua-hyung’s been asleep for a few hours.”

Relief flooded Jun’s whole being. One worry less.

“Oh, good. That’s actually really good.”

“Hm, yeah.” Seokmin didn’t sound that convinced. “I think hyung’s body is so exhausted and in pain that he can’t do anything but sleep. He’s either vomiting from the headache or in so much pain he’s crying when awake.”

Damn. Jun had just been hopeful.

“Can you give him an IV?”, Jun asked, turning to the medic. “If it’s like his migraines he won’t be able to keep anything inside.”

The medic nodded but said: “I need light for that…”

Yeah, that would be a catastrophe. If it was only half as bad as a migraine then Joshua would not be able to tolerate any light. But Jun couldn’t also not just decide for him if he wanted to abstain from medication for momentary awful discomfort.

“Let me wake him”, Jun suggested, “we’ll ask him if he wants the IV and then we’ll see how to make it as comfortable for him as possible.”

The other two nodded in agreement and Jun approached the sleeping member carefully. He gently shook Joshua’s shoulder and whispered his name. After a few seconds he was rewarded with a groan.

“Shua-hyung, you awake?”, Jun whispered.

The older member gave another groan, then his breathing took on an irregular pattern and hitched. Uh oh. Jun held his breath in turn, hoping that nothing would come of it but then Joshua gagged and both Jun and the medic hurried to turn Joshua on his side, so he wouldn't choke. Just in time.

Vomit spilled from Joshua’s lips onto the bed, soaking the sheets instantly. At least he wasn’t choking. But the pained whimpers Joshua gave with every retch were heartwrenching. There really wasn’t any way to get him to lean over the side of the bed to get sick in the trash can, considering there was vomit all around him and he wouldn’t be able to hold himself up over it.

So Jun just held his hand, letting Joshua squeezed it to combat the pain.

Finally it seemed to be over and Jun was barely able to stop Joshua from rolling over into the puddle as his body gave into weakness.

“Shua-hyung?”, Jun whispered, “can you hear me?”

“Junnie?”, Joshua rasped. “What? My head … it hurts so bad.”

“I know, hyungie. Do you think we can lift you onto the clean bed and then the medic can give you an IV to stop the pain? Is that okay?”

Joshua didn’t even hesitate to agree. “Please.”

“If you lift him, I can look in the meantime where I put my sleeping mask”, Seokmin whispered.

“Good idea.” It would likely be the only way they could make this comfortable for the vocalist.

Gently maneuvering around the vomit, Jun and the medic lifted Joshua to the clean bed on which Seokmin had slept previously. The movement seemed to hurt Joshua and make him more queasy again but he didn’t throw up again.

Once they had settled the vocalist under the covers, Jun sat down by his head, gently massaging his forehead. It seemed to help at least a little bit by the way Joshua relaxed.

“Hyung?”, Jun whispered as Seokmin approached, holding the promised sleeping mask, “I know that sounds like an awful idea right now but to put in the IV the medic needs to see. We need to turn on the lights for the moment but Seokminnie has got a sleeping mask for you so you can cover your eyes, okay?”

“‘Kay.”

Careful to not hurt him further, Jun placed his hands under Joshua’s neck - the older whined at the loss of the massage - and lifted his head so it was resting against his forearms. It gave Seokmin enough room to place the mask over Joshua’s eyes.

Then the medic turned on the light. Joshua didn’t seem to notice. Good. Jun continued the forehead massage as much as he could without moving the mask and watched as the medic started preparing Joshua’s arm to put the needle in.

Unable to see, Joshua flinched when the cool alcoholic spray came in contact with his skin.

“Sorry”, the medic whispered, “do you want me to tell you before I poke you or not?”

“Tell me.” Joshua’s voice was shaking. It was clear he was afraid. He had never been the biggest fan of needles and would prefer oral medication over the intravenous ones and the fact that he had so easily agreed was a big tell on how he was feeling.

“Okay, just breathe normally”, the medic advised, “I’ll count to three. On three I want you to breathe in. I’ll be careful, okay?”

Joshua hummed his agreement. But as the medic started counting he suddenly whispered: “Stop. Stop. I…”

He coughed and for a moment Jun was scared he would throw up again. Joshua didn’t but his voice was tiny when he asked: “Can somebody hold my hand?”

He was likely scared of accidentally moving when poked. It had happened before - was the reason actually why he didn’t like needles.

“Of course I will, hyung”, Seokmin said softly before Jun could answer and managed to worm himself close enough to gently hold Joshua’s hand in both of his, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of Joshua’s hand.

“‘Thanks, Seokminnie. I think I can do it now.”

The medic started counting again and as instructed Joshua breathed in on the count, just as the doctor slid the needle in. There was no flinch, no movement. It seemed like Joshua hadn’t even noticed it happening.

“You did well, Joshua-ssi”, the medic praised and, proud of his hyung, Jun leaned down to kiss his forehead. “You did it, hyung.”

“It’s in?”, Joshua rasped.

“Yeah, it’s in. I’ll connect the fluids, the painkillers and the antiemetic now. You can go back to sleep if you want.”

It seemed like Joshua didn’t need to be told twice. His breathing evened out nearly immediately.

“Will you stay here with him?” Jun now turned his attention to Seokmin. He would love to send the younger just back to sleep - it probably was good to have at least one well rested member considering that the night would likely be long for him and Jeonghan at least - but there was still vomit on the bed sheets. “I’ll ask somebody to help you with … that.”

Seokmin grimaced.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

In the hallway they passed Wonwoo, Mingyu and a noona, all of them carrying thermos cans. With a weak smile the three members high-fived each other, some of the last ones standing.

“Maybe some of them can keep some nutrition down”, Mingyu explained the containers, Wonwoo nodding along. “What are the room contributions? How are they?”

It was good thinking. Jun hoped that the medication would soon help and the sick ones might be able to keep some nutrition down - especially Minghao.

The rapper-duo seemed happy enough, mostly burden-free if not necessarily worry-free. Jun hated to burst their bubble. “Hoshi and Jeonghan-hyung are with Jihoon and Minghao. Minghao got an IV and Jihoon was confident he’ll be able to keep down some meds. Dino and Vernon are with Seungcheol and Seungkwan. I’m not quite up to date, but both have fevers and keep vomiting. Seokmin is with Joshua-hyung. Actually, can one of you go to him? Shua threw up on his bedding and someone needs to stay with him while somebody goes to the laundry room.”

Wonwoo sighed, handed his container to Mingyu and saluted half-heartedly. “Can’t slack off my room-cleaning services now.”

Mingyu laughed a bit and Jun cracked a grin too. Maybe everything would work out in the end.

Yeah, he was wrong.

Neither Seungcheol nor Seungkwan were still asleep when Jun and the medic entered the bedroom. In fact the room was in chaos. Jun knew they shouldn’t have let the maknaes alone - it wasn’t that he trusted them, he would with his life, but both of them were not very used to dealing with sick members.

Seungcheol was leaning over the side of the bed, throwing up into a trash can but not managing to hit it every time he retched. The leader seemed weak, feverish and barely awake. Dino was struggling to hold him up. It must have happened very suddenly from how it looked, like Dino had managed to hold Seungcheol up just before he would have toppled off the bed. Now he was unable to adjust his hold on the general leader without risking dropping him. Abandoned ice packs were melting into the sheets.

From the bathroom there came the sound of gagging as well and Vernon and Seungkwan were missing.

The first thing Jun did was rush over to help Dino hold the leader in a position where he didn’t threaten to fall off the bed. Just from touching Seungcheol’s t-shirt Jun could tell that their mat-hyung was boiling hot. Every wave of vomit pouring out of him seemed to seep his strength and once he was done, he just slumped onto the bed, eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head.

“Cheollie?”, Jun asked timidly, for the first time today, scared. He could handle crying and vomiting hyungs and dongsaengs. Mat-hyungs passing out from high fevers were not in the cards.

Seungcheol just trembled, his breath coming in heavy puffs. It was clear he wasn’t really in the room.

“How high is his fever?” Jun turned to the maknae to ask the dreaded question. Dino looked like he was about to break into tears and Jun pulled him into his arms, shushing him as the tears actually fell.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s gonna be okay”, he whispered, patting Dino’s waist. “Did you manage to take his temperature?”

But that only caused Dino to cry harder.

“I … I tried to”, the maknae sobbed out, at times interrupted by hiccoughs, “but that must have triggered him and he started vomiting. Vernon had said earlier he didn’t feel good either but he … he said he didn’t want to make your jobs even harder though I knew he was terrified. When Cheollie-hyung started vomiting, he ran to the bathroom and started throwing up too. Kwan-ah went to check on him despite being sick himself.”

No wonder Dino was this distraught. Jun was getting overwhelmed from just listening. So he just rocked the crying dancer from side to side, hoping it would calm him down.

“Jun-ssi?”, the medic called out and reluctantly the older dancer let go of his dongsaeng to turn around. Dino let him but clutched his hand instead, wiping his eyes with the other wrist.

The medic was lowering a shaking Seungkwan to the ground, who immediately flung himself at Vernon who was pale and even from afar the terror in his eyes was visible. They both must have gotten sick. Jun stepped closer, hoping that Seungcheol could hold out a minute or two without attention.

“I’m sorry, Kwan-ah”, Vernon whispered, holding onto his best friend tightly, “I didn’t mean to set you off too.”

“It’s not your fault, Nonie”, Seungkwan mumbled back, hanging his head in exhaustion. “I was already feeling pretty sick again. I love cuddling but Cheollie-hyung is so overwhelmingly warm…” He trailed off.

“We’ll get some fever reducers into him”, the medic said, “don’t worry.”

He rummaged in his bag for something, then suddenly he frowned. He took out one of the fluid bags and turned it around. Put it back and did the same with the next one. Once he had checked them all over, he looked up at Jun with an unreadable expression.

“Jun-ssi, can I talk with you outside?”

This could not be good.

“Do you have a thermometer that is not oral?”, Jun asked, hoping that the medic understood his intention. To emphasize his point he slightly nodded his head towards the still sniffing and hiccoughing Dino.

“Yeah”, the medic said and handed a thermometer gun to Jun.

“Take their temperatures, okay, Dino-yah?”, Jun instructed, hoping it would sufficiently distract the three maknaes from the fact that two of them were sick and their leader was basically passed out on his bed.

Dino nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Jun followed the medic into the hallway.

“What’s wrong?” His heart was beating in his chest and his pulse was racing. He wasn’t sure how to deal with anything else bad happening.

“I don’t know how to say this”, the medic stuttered out, now looking more and more freaked out.

“What is it?” Jun knew his voice sounded sharp but he feared he would combust if he didn’t soon find out what was going on.

“I took the standard medicine bag my company provided with me. Somebody must have made a mistake when checking them. Uhm, well, most of the medications are expired.” Jun’s expression must have been one of absolute horror, if it was anything close to how he felt internally and the medic reacted to. “I checked the dates on the medication I administered to Minghao-ssi and Joshua-ssi. But I just noticed that I only have one bag of antiemetics left, no saline solution and no fever reducers. I’m so sorry, Jun-ssi.”

For a moment Jun didn’t know what to say. He wanted to yell at the medic. He wanted to sue his company. But it didn’t help now. Not with so many members fighting for their health and some that would surely get sick in the future too.

“Can’t they be used even after expired?”, Jun asked desperately, feeling close to tears.

“No. They might be only less effective but they could also have bacterial growths or might have changed their chemical composition”, the medic replied, sounding heartfeltly sorry.

Jun nodded slightly, trembling all over. “Okay. Thank you anyways.”

“I’m really sorry, Jun-ssi. Let me know what I can do for you?”

“I am too. For now … why don’t you go check on the sick staff? If the medications are limited and somebody is in desperate need…”

“Okay. Think about who might need the medication the most and let me know.”

Jun watched the medic scurry away. An angry, frustrated tear rolled down his face but he wiped it away. He needed to pull himself together. He didn’t want to make the decision on his own. As soon as he could, he would speak with Jeonghan.

But first he had to check on Vernon, Dino, Seungkwan and Seungcheol.

💎🐢

Vernon wanted to cry. Actually he wasn’t sure if his face was covered in sweat or tears.

He hated being sick and vomiting scared him. He had only barely managed to push through for Seungkwan’s sake but now that he was reduced to a queasy, slightly feverish puddle of human on the tiny bathroom floor he regretted everything.

He hadn’t been able to hide how he felt from Chan, constantly stifling nauseous burps into his fist until the younger had asked him how he felt. Vernon hadn’t been strong enough to keep lying but when Dino had wanted to go get a hyung Vernon didn’t want to burden them even more. There was too much going on.

He was just glad that unlike Minghao he was just nauseous though he might have even preferred the other direction.

Now that he had thrown up - feeling sick and seeing the leader throw up had been too much and he had thrown up into his mouth before he had even made it to the toilet - he felt wretched. Back when he was just queasy he had told himself that it was maybe just sympathy and his fear but now he couldn’t deny he was sick and he would vomit again.

So, no matter how embarrassing it was to fall apart in front of three of his members and a staff member, he couldn’t help but cry into Seungkwan’s chest. His best friend held him close, not caring about the fact that they were on the bathroom floor and that Vernon could technically throw up all over him. He didn’t have the best record with making it to the bathroom.

Even apologizing for setting Seungkwan off was met with gentle care. Vernon didn’t know what he would do without the vocalist. He was vaguely aware of Jun leaving with the medic but he was more concerned with trying to stop crying and trying not to be sick again.

“Nonie”, Seungkwan whispered, pressing his lips to Vernon’s forehead. “Breathe. You’re going to be okay. We’ll take care of you.”

Vernon sniffed and nodded, trying to regulate his breathing.

“Vernonie-hyung? Can you look at me?”, Chan asked and Vernon did as asked. The maknae quickly took his temperature, reading out the reading. The numbers didn’t really make sense to him, no matter that he had grown up in Korea, his family had still often used the Fahrenheit system for body temperatures so he had no idea what that meant.

Seungkwan translated: “Medium fever.”

“Okay.”

Once it was revealed that Seungkwan too had a medium fever, Chan went to check on their mat-hyung. Vernon didn’t like to admit it but he was terrified. Seeing the older member this sick made Vernon want to cry. Maybe it was the fever making him emotional. He didn’t know.

What he did know was that his stomach was suddenly not feeling good again.

“Kwan”, he gasped out and before he knew it, his head was in the toilet again with the first wave of throw up painting the water murky. He gagged again and brown sprayed against the porcelain. Tears dripped down his face and mixed with the sick below him.

“It’s okay, let it out, I got you”, Seungkwan mumbled, though his voice sounded a bit stifled.

Suddenly Jun was there too. “Oh, babies. Kwan-ah, go lie back down if you can, it’s okay, I got Nonie.”

Seungkwan let go of Vernon, causing the younger to sob and consequently throw up again. Jun patiently sat with him, not leaving in all the time Vernon gagged and cried hovering over the toilet.

Finally his stomach seemed to grant him mercy and he bonelessly fell back into his hyung who kissed the top of his head, helped him wash out his mouth, didn’t care that Vernon used him as a human tissue and even half-carried him back to bed. As soon as he was in reach, Vernon fell down onto it, burying his burning face in Seungkwan’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry I couldn't be there for you, love”, Seungkwan mumbled, his voice shaking.

“Don’t … it’s okay. Junnie-hyung took good care of me.”

A knock came on the door and Jun conversed with whoever had entered. Vernon didn’t have the strength to turn and look or try to figure it out with just hearing.

“Kwan-ah? Nonie?”, Jun suddenly said, “Mingyu made some juk. Let’s try to eat a bit, okay?”

Vernon wanted anything but eat and Seungkwan seemed to feel the same way. Despite everything they soon were upright, with Dino helping Seungkwan eat while Vernon was leaning back against Mingyu’s broad chest, getting fed by the older rapper.

Across from them Jun tried to feed the feverish and sick leader but it was a slow process. It seemed like Seungcheol’s brain wasn’t even online enough to chew and swallow. He coughed a few times as something got stuck in his throat and Vernon pressed himself back against Mingyu, trying to block out the disgusting sounds.

Neither of them managed much, but apparently enough for Jun to decide they should try some medication. Mingyu and Dino managed to get the two 98-liners to take them, both of them clutching each other's hand. Vernon was not very confident he’d be able to keep it down but the cool motion sickness patch, as well as a cool cloth on his brow lulled him back to sleep before the nausea could boil over.

💎🍚

Jihoon cursed his past confidence. Shouldn’t he have learned earlier that he couldn’t keep anything down? The antiemetic staying down must have been a fluke. He had been tricked into false beliefs by his empty stomach and now he was paying the price.

He woke up only shortly after he had fallen asleep again. His stomach was cramping even worse than earlier and nausea filled every part of his being. Still, he pretended to be asleep, taking deep, measured breaths.

It only helped enough that he didn’t start gagging but just barely. He hoped if he just laid like this, he would just fall back asleep. Somewhere close by he could hear Jeonghan and Soonyoung talking to each other, a comforting buzz in his ears. A hand was running through his hair. But sleep wouldn’t come.

Another sharp cramp tore through his stomach and this time he couldn’t stop the pained cry from escaping his lips. He clamped his mouth shut just in time to stop a new gag.

“Jihoonie?”, Jeonghan’s voice asked and the hand stopped.

Caught, Jihoon opened his eyes to find both older members leaning over him, both with a worried expression on their face. Jihoon tried to smile but the corners of his mouth would barely lift.

“Baby?”, Soonyoung asked when Jihoon didn’t answer. “Do you feel sick again?”

Jihoon nodded. There was no use in denying it.

Jeonghan cooed. Normally Jihoon would have hit him for that. Now even the thought of moving was nauseating. The worst was the pain, however.

“It hurts”, he whispered, curling into himself and pressing his hands against the churning organ.

The older vocalist sat down next to Jihoon on the bed and rubbed his back in comforting circles. “Try to breathe normally, okay? Can we try to stretch out your legs? I think that might help with the pain as well.”

Jihoon trusted his hyung enough that he let Jeonghan and Soonyoung carefully move him, despite the fact that his brain screamed at him that moving was bad and the nausea that was threatening to make him vomit again. And moving hurt, a lot. No matter how careful they were.

Tears were running down Jihoon’s cheeks when he was finally straight on his back, legs stretched out. Surprisingly, it did feel better. It still hurt, of course, but it wasn’t as debilitating as before. Soonyoung was rubbing his calf through the blanket, which was calming him down too.

“You probably shouldn’t have taken the medication on an empty and already very upset stomach”, Jeonghan pointed out, “I’m sorry, I should have paid more attention.”

“It’s okay, hyung”, Jihoon whispered.

The door opened to admit Mingyu carrying two thermos bottles as far as Jihoon could see.

“Haneul-noona and I made some juk”, Mingyu announced cheerfully, “do we have some patients who want a taste?”

Oh hell no.

“You’re just in time, Mingyu-yah. We just decided that Jihoonie needs to eat.” Soonyoung sounded much more happy than he had any right to be.

“We did?”, Jihoon asked, feeling his stomach churn at the thought. No, eating was not his plan.

“You should try to eat, baby”, Jeonghan said with a nod and a gentle smile, “the pain and the nausea might just come from an empty stomach and taking meds on said empty stomach.”

As much as Jihoon wanted to do anything but eat, he had to admit they had a point. And Mingyu looked awfully proud of himself.

“Okay”, he agreed quietly.

“What about Minghao?”, Soonyoung asked. “Should we wake him?”

Jeonghan nodded. “He needs fluids too. I’ll wake him, okay? You take Jihoonie?”

It seemed like one second he was laying down, the next Jihoon was leaning against Soonyoung’s side with the older holding a bowl and a spoon in his hands. Across from them Jeonghan was softly whispering to a teary Minghao, who looked unhappy to be awake and uncomfortable with the IV.

“Eat, baby”, Soonyoung encouraged and lifted the spoon to Jihoon’s lips. Against his better judgment Jihoon took it in his mouth. The rice porridge with an aftertaste of chicken was tasty, yes, but Jihoon had to fight against the urge to spit it out again. Soonyoung seemed happy he was eating and Mingyu was proud and maybe Jeonghan was right that it would help.

Despite every bite and swallow being an inner struggle, Jihoon managed to finish the food in record time. Tasting it made it worse, so he tried to get it down quickly.

“Thanks, hyung”, Minghao said, smiling softly at Mingyu, “it’s really good.”

The young dancer seemed to have overcome his struggles with being awake and now even seemed a bit hungry. Maybe Jihoon should have just swallowed his pride and just let the medic place the IV. It might have made him feel more comfortable, he could have been happily eating too.

“Yeah, thanks”, Jihoon pressed out, feeling sweat break out on his brow. His stomach was somersaulting and aching so badly. He felt overly full even if he portion had been pretty small and before he had been empty. He dropped his head on Soonyoungi’s shoulder and took deep breaths.

Mingyu and the noona quickly said their goodbyes, hoping to distribute more food to the other sick members.

That was when Jun knocked on the door, nervously entering.

“Is everything in here okay?”, he asked, stumbling a bit over his words.

“Yeah, we’re good”, Jeonghan confirmed. Oh, how Jihoon wished those words were true. But Jeonghan was already helping a sleepy Minghao back under his covers and now mustered Jun in concern. The least Jihoon could do was try to wait to puke again until Jun was calmed down. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Hyung, can we speak outside?”

“Go, hyung”, Hoshi said when Jeonghan seemed to hesitate.

“Come on, Junnie.”

The two disappeared out the door and left Jihoon and Soonyoung alone, considering that Minghao was already snoring a bit.

“You wanna lie back down too?”, the dancer leader asked.

“I think I want to stay upright a bit.”

There was no way Jihoon could lie down without puking all over the two of them.

ILMTILMC Part VI

Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Masterlist - SEVENTEEN

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