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wildernessuntothemselves · 3 years

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I’m Yours, You’re Mine | 2

Word Count: 2.6k

Genre: Smut, future angst

Summary: You’ve always wished to take a more dominant role in bed, but Chan just wasn’t having it. So when you see an opportunity to do just that with Felix, you can’t help yourself. But you soon come to regret your drunken decision for a reason other than that you’d cheated on your boyfriend with his own bestfriend.

Warnings: Cheating, justifying cheating (badly), yandere!felix, sub!felix, dom!reader, reader tries to pressure chan into subbing, felix getting pegged in a kitten maid outfit, excessive use of whore and slut and noona, degradation, felix messy

Gif Credit

It was a mistake. You had decided. You were both too drunk and horny to think it through and it was best to forget it all.

Felix, however, refused to drop it which really only cemented in your mind that it’s the right decision to stop this thing before it starts. If he’s kicking up this much fuss about it and you’ve barely done anything, what is he gonna do if you got more involved later? No, it’s over and you’d told him as such. You don’t want him and it had been a mistake.

But at night, when you’re all alone with your thoughts after chan had fucked you and gone to sleep, you can’t help but think of the freckled boy and how he had followed your every order so obediently. You touch yourself every night to the memory of it, how good he sounded touching himself for you. It has become a sort of escapism for you, a way to let out your frustrations every time Chan doesn’t let you take the lead.

It pissed you the fuck off, how condescending he’d sound when telling you to ‘stop messing around, babygirl’ as he proceeds to pin you down and fuck you from behind. Still, you keep trying because maybe if he’d let you have this, you wouldn’t run to other men to satisfy your needs.

"Baby, take a look at this." You call out to Chan who was sitting on the chair next to you, turning your laptop screen towards him so he'd see the costume you were looking at, a cat maid outfit for men. He scrunches his nose at it and laughs, "That's certainly something."

"You don't like it?" You pout and he looks at you incredulously. "You do?"

"I don't know.” You shrug, once again feeling ridiculed. It’s not like you haven’t worn a schoolgirl or a sexy nurse outfit for him before when he’d asked. “I just think you'd look cute in it. And with halloween coming up and everything--"

"I’m gonna stop you right there, baby. Absolutely not."

"Why not?" You whine like a child.

"Because it's embarrassing!"

"But it's halloween, it’s supposed to be crazy. No one will care, they might even like it. I’d really like it.."

"No. Pick something else." He deadpans but you keep pushing. "But I want this!"

Chan gets off his chair and sits on the couch next to you, grabbing your jaw and pulling you close to his face. “Baby, I’m a man, not a toy for you to play with and dress up as you please. You never mentioned any of this stuff before and you can’t just drop this on me now and expect me to do what you please.”

“But why can’t you at least try?”

“I’m not interested.” He answers slowly, emphasizing every word. "Now stop pressing or I'll put your pretty little mouth to better use."

____________________

You’re standing alone in a corner, nursing your drink as you watch the party-goers mingle and have fun, when you suddenly feel someone wrap their arms around you and press up their body against your back. You don’t flinch, already knowing who it is.

“Hey, baby, wanna go out for a bite?” The stupid pickup line only serves to make you more annoyed at the boy behind you and you wince as he digs his fake fangs into the skin of your shoulder. Shrugging the man off, you turn to face him. “I thought strong women made you flaccid.”

The sour smile on his face only lasts for a second before it turns patronizing. “That’s not true. I was very into Kim Possible.” He cups your cheek and leans down close to your face, his nose touching yours. “But I’d fuck Shego too.”

You push his hand away and step back, stopping the kiss he was going for. “Sorry, but this Shego isn’t interested in getting fucked.”

Chan rests his hands on his hips and lets out a heavy sigh. “How long are you gonna stay mad at that?”

“How long is your fragile masculinity gonna keep you from satisfying your girlfriend in bed?”

He steps towards you angrily, getting all up in your face again. “Don’t you dare! I always make you cum.”

“So? I can make myself cum just fine on my own. But what I actually want from you, you’re not giving to me.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable.” He yells, face turning red as he prepares to launch into his own angry rant when something catches his eyes and he bursts out laughing. “Oh, for fucks sake.”

You look at him in confusion and he grabs you by the shoulders and turns you around. “Take a look at Felix, honey.” He murmurs sardonically.

With narrowed eyes, you search for the blonde among the crowd of people gathered at your apartment, wondering why Chan was stopping your oh-so-important argument for this. But when your eyes land on him, they blow wide open. Felix is dressed in the exact outfit you’d shown Chan wished earlier, complete with the cat eats and the little bell around his neck. He looked perfect.

“Look at how ridiculous he looks.” Chan’s voice cuts into your thoughts as he leans down to jeer in your ear. "And you wanted me to look like that. Hey, maybe Lix will bend over and let you fuck him if you ask."

He says it with the most sarcasm and contempt he can muster before shoving you a little bit forward and walking off. But it’s far from a joke to you. There is nothing funny about the gorgeous boy looking like he just came out of your wildest dreams.

With anger and lust mixing dangerously in your veins, you march straight to Felix, and without even greeting him, you grab him by the arm and pull him into the bathroom that was further into the apartment and lock the both of you inside.

Pushing him against the sink, you grab his hair and force him to look at himself in the mirror. "What is the meaning of this?"

“Noona?” He wonders uneasily, playing innocent.

“How the fuck did you get this?”

“I found it on the internet, noona.”

“Oh, you found it, huh?” You scoff, running your hand over the black and white outfit. “You just happened to find the exact same costume I was showing to Chan a few weeks back?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, noona.” He stares at your reflection through his lashes, doing his best to look meek and clueless. Growling, you shove your hand between his legs, grabbing at his half-hard dick and making him squeal.

“Oh, you don’t, do you? You’re such a fucking whore, Felix.” He moans, bucking his hip into your hand. "You know I belong to your hyung and you're just gonna betray him like that?"

He shakes his head earnestly, "No, noona. I’m not trying to."

"Don't lie. Little whore only thinks with his cock." You hiss, letting your other hand fall from his hair to his chest, your fingers roughly pulling at his nipples through the thin fabric covering them.

“Ah--fuck--noona!” He cries, thrusting his dick against your hand more and more. "I'm a good boy. You know that noona."

“Then what is is?” You pull his skirt up to clearly show his now fully hard dick straining against the panties he’s wearing. And when you do, you stop in your tracks.

"Are those my panties?" You shriek, pushing him flat over the marble countertop and flipping the skirt over his ass so you can see the black panties more clearly. “You fucking creep!”

You hook your thumbs under the waistband and yank the panties down, getting even more of a shock when you see what he has under them.

"Shit." You breathe, momentarily forgetting all about the panties as you stare at the pink butt plug wedged snuggly in his ass. When you reach out and tap the base of it, Felix's legs buckle. “Is this part of the costume too?”

He stays quiet, burying his face into his arms and you scoff. "God, you're such a slut." You grab the plug and pull it back, only to slam it back in all at once. His scream is muffled against his arms but he eagerly pushes his hips back into you.

You take a few seconds to get your breathing under control. Once again you can’t believe what is in front of you. You’ve only dreamt about something like this before, but here is Felix giving it all to you without you even asking. How can you resist?

"Don't move." You hiss in his ear, ignoring his little moan of protest as you pull away and step out of the bathroom.

You get what you want from your room as fast as you possibly can before going back to the bathroom and finding that Felix has actually not stayed still, and is now standing up and nervously fiddling with his fingers.

"Didn't I say to not move?"

"I was afraid someone would come in." He mumbles.

“Afraid people will find out what a whore you are, you mean.” You step in and lock the door behind you before you before you show him what you have in the box you just retrieved.

You smile at his gasp when he sees you pull out the strap you own, the one you never even got to show to Chan before. Cocking your head to the side, you stare at the shaking boy. “You’ll let me fuck you, won’t you, Lixie?”

He nods before you even finish your question. “Of course, noona. You can do whatever you want to me.”

You smirk like you expected nothing less than that, but in reality you were riding high off of the fact that he so easily gave into you without you even needing to coax him. It made you wanna give him everything he asks for.

But Felix’s enthusiasm is dampened a little when he sees you putting the strap-on over your costume. Pouting, he asks you, “You’re not gonna take anything off, noona?”

"I don't need to take anything off to fuck you." You reply simply and he lets out an insolent whine. “But I wanna see your body. I never got to see it up-close.”

Your face turns hard and Felix takes a moment to realize the implication of what he just said. “So you’re saying you’ve seen my body before? Have you been spying on me too, you little shit?”

He stays quiet, staring at the floor.

“You’re such a fucking pervert. I ought to tell Chan about all of this.” You push him around to face the mirror again and press his body against the countertop. “The outfit. The panties. The spying.” You grit, taking the butt plug out of his ass and running your fingertips up and down his open hole.

“No, please don’t tell him.” He whimpers, face pressed against the cool marble.

“Why shouldn’t I? He should know what his precious friend is up to behind his back.” You squeeze some lube over your fingers before you push one inside of him. It goes in easily so you add the second one right away, pressing down as you pump your fingers in and out of his ass.

“Nghh--noona--noona!” He squirms under you, hands grasping to find any purchase over the smooth countertop. “Please, fuck me.”

You can’t really deny him for long, already feeling like you could cream your panties just watching him break down under you. As you push the didlo in, he lets out a loud keen that turns into heavy panting as you start rocking your hips into his.

“Thank you, noona.” His voice is garbled and you pull him up by the hair to make him stand up so you can look at his face while you fuck him. He looks like an absolute mess of drool and flushed cheeks, his dick leaking little drops on the floor.

"What a tiny dick you have, Lixie.” You can't help but stare at it and the leather garter belt he has around his thigh with a metallic heart looped in it. Wrapping your hand his wet dick, you start pumping it as you thrust into his ass. “No wonder you can't dom a girl. I probably have a bigger dick than yours."

“I’m sorry, n-noona. Please use me--ahh--however you want.” He sobs, barely able to hold himself up in your arms.

“Use you for what? You’re a complete mess. You wouldn’t be able to satisfy me even if you tried.” You fuck him harder, quickening the pace of your strokes on his twitching dick and shivering at the sounds that fill up the room, from the snap of your hips against his ass, to the slick sound of you jerking him off, to the whiny moans he's letting loose to the tune of the bell in his choker. “But it’s okay, I’ll just think about this when Channie is fucking my brains out tonight.”

Suddenly his face changes, taking on a dark and sinister hue that makes goosebumps erupt across your skin. But you can’t let him intimidate you. If you can’t even dom Felix then Chan is right not to take you seriously. Besides, if you want to keep this going, you have to have him under a tight leash or else he’ll go rogue and expose the both of you.

"What? You have something to say?" You challenge, but he stays quiet, his lips curled into a mean sneer. "You're just a toy for me and if you want me to keep playing with you, you need to learn your place. Is that understood?"

But Felix doesn’t respond, continuing to stare you down through the mirror.

“You want me to leave you high and dry like last time? Because that’s what you’ll get if you don’t back down, kitten.” You warn him, your thrusts turning from fast and hard to slow and deep, and your grip on his cock tightening. “Come on, who is my good boy?”

Finally, he relents, throwing his head back over your shoulder and moaning out, “I am, noona.”

“Prove it or else I’ll have no use for you.” You smatter stinging kisses all over the side of his neck in retaliation for taking so long, and you feel him gulping under your lips. "Come on, little slut, squirt out that cum for me."

“Yes, noona, just need a little more.” He grunts obediently, thrusting his cock up into your closed fist in time with your own thrusts into his ass. "Aahh--noona--fuck---noona!" His hands reach back and his fingers dig into your flesh as he cums, using his hold on you to keep standing upright.

“That’s it. That’s it.” You coo, taking a bit too long before you stop touching him, letting him suffer the pain of overstimulation for a minute, his eyes blown wide as his mouth hangs open as he stares at you with glazed over eyes in the mirror, his cum dripping down your hand and making a small puddle on the floor under you.

“You’ll keep being a good boy, won’t you, Lixie?” You press a soft kiss under his ear that makes him shiver. Letting the tension out of his body, he relaxes back into your arms and closes his eyes.

“Yes, Noona.”

____________

A/N: next chapter is using one of those remote control vibrators on lixie in public uwu oh and making him watch chan fuck reader :)))))

feedback keeps me going and makes me upload faster like this :))))

#stray kids smut #felix smut #sub!idol #dom!reader #yandere!au

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keijislove · 3 years

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Dance the Night Away: Peter Parker X Reader

A/N: This ain’t following any particular timeline – let’s just say... idk, after Far from Home, maybe?

WARNING: use of the ‘P’ word (Flash being Flash)

Peter walked down the hallway amidst the chatter, trying to reach his locker as the crowd grew thicker and thicker, making it impossible for him to even see properly. Which was until a hand seized his wrist and pulled him through, letting go of him as he smashed into the storage compartment with force enough to make his brains rattle.

“Oops, sorry,” you said with a sheepish smile.

Peter had turned to thank whoever it was, but, catching sight of you, he groaned. Not that he didn’t like you – you and Peter had been best friends since you were eight years old. Recently, however, a banner had been put up by the senior girls announcing that prom would be taking place the following Saturday. And with only about five days left, you had taken to pestering Peter into going, hoping that if you’d fling the question unexpectedly, Peter would get scared into answering. You had, however, no luck so far.

“Y/N, I know what you’re going to say,” Peter warningly began, “And I don’t wanna hear it.”

“But I wanna say it,” you said, “And that I shall. Peter, come on! It’s a crucial life experience! I mean, you’re studying all the time these days, and I get it, you have a clear view of your future, and I’m happy for you. But pleeeaaaaaaase, just do it for me? It’s one night, Peter, come on! One night where you have to let go and just have fun! After that, we can go back to making circuit boards together like we used to, but just this once? C’mon, don’t tell me you’re turning me down.”

As you took a deep breath after this whole rant and Peter took one look at your sincere smile, he sighed.

“... Fine,” he mumbled.

Your eyes grew wide. Surely you’d misheard?

“What?” you asked, “Louder, please?”

“Fine!” Peter bellowed loudly so that a dozen heads turned in your direction and people began snickering.

Not caring in the least, you flashed a wide smile before engulfing Peter into a huge hug, speaking, “Thank you so much! It’ll be the best experience of your life, Peter!”

“Yes, that means better than your spiderman stuff,” you whispered in an undertone as Peter said a disbelieving, “Come on!”

Needless to say, you had finally convinced Peter to go to prom. Now came the hard part. Truth was, you had liked Peter since you were both, what, fourteen? Convincing Peter to go to prom was a task for the strong, but asking him to be your date? No way would he feel the same. Peter had never ever hinted, that your relationship could be more. In fact, he felt rather frantic to prove it couldn’t be more – something that convinced you that you did not belong together and that, someday, you would have to get over this silly little crush. Still, seeing Peter go to prom with any girl who made him happy was enough for you.

“Right, now that we’re going,” you said the following morning, when he’d found you standing next to his locker, waiting for him to arrive.

Peter sighed, “Mm hmm?”

“We need dates,” you ignored his disinterest.

“Do you have one?” asked Peter.

“It.... it’s complicated,” you muttered.

Peter crossed his arms, “Listening.”

You shot him a glare before sighing and telling him, “There’s... there’s this boy I like. I was really hoping he would ask me to homecoming back then, and I turned down anybody who asked me just to chase that blind belief. Guess what? He didn’t ask me. And I know he won’t now, but I don’t know... something inside me still hopes he would.”

“So, you’re scared to say yes to anyone in case he asked you but scared to say no to everyone in case he doesn’t ask you?” Peter clarified, causing you to laugh.

“Sounds about right.” you muttered, “But hey, enough about me, what about you? We need a date for you. Do you have anyone in mind?”

“Not really,” Peter shrugged.

“Okay....” you said slowly, “Well, I’ll just list off people you would be happy with as they come to my mind... maybe you can ask one of them.”

“Fire away.”

“Okay... well, there’s Emma Jones from my biology class,” you began, “And she’s really nice.”

“Not my type.”

“Oh,” you frowned, “Okay... Alyssa from P.E?”

“The one who said spiderman sucks? No thanks.”

“Zoe from English?”

“Nope.”

“Ava from chemistry lab?”

“Meh.”

“... MJ?” you asked in defeat as Peter incredulously looked at you (A/N: sorry MJ, I love you <3).

“Okay, fine,” you snapped, “I’m done helping. Let me know if you find someone?”

Peter gave another nod as the two of you made your way to class.

------

You were panicking. Two days were all that were left, and so far, you had turned down countless boys including Flash Gordon who had swore and made rude hand gestures at you as a way to handle rejection. You didn’t know what was wrong – why was this impossible hope of Peter asking you still clouding your possibilities of a relationship?

Peter knew nothing of this – yet he annoyed you. If he was too blind to notice that you were madly in love with him, why did the very sight of his face make your brain go empty?

Now with one day left and nobody to ask you, you slumped moodily throughout the day, not talking and sitting silently at lunchtime, stabbing your potatoes pretending that it was your feelings for Peter.

“Okay you’re freaking me out now,” Peter said as the two of you were walking home and you still hadn’t opened your mouth.

“No date – again. God, this is just like homecoming,” you groaned.

Peter looked surprised.

“I thought a lot of guys asked you?”

“They did!” you moaned, “It’s just – that guy, I don’t know why he has this effect on me. It’s like – we weren’t meant to be together or maybe I wasn’t meant to go out with anyone ever.”

“Hey, that’s not true,” said Peter with something new in his expression. Behind the terribly unconvincing ‘concerned best friend’ mask, you saw a flicker of something... smugness? No, you were dreaming. You hadn’t eaten all day – this was probably a side-effect.

“You know what, I’m gonna grab a sandwich at Delmar’s,” you muttered, “I haven’t eaten since morning. Do you want to come?”

“Sorry, I promised May I’d come home,” he sheepishly said, “She wanted me to go get an outfit with her.”

“Oh,” you snickered, “Good luck with that. See you tomorrow!”

“See you.”

And with a heavy heart, you walked away from your only chance of having the person you cared about most as your date to prom.

--------

“Oh god, what was I thinking?” you muttered, staring the reflection of you in a(n) F/C dress with your hair styled <inert preferred style here>.

“This is stupid!” you said to no one in particular, before taking a deep breath and walking to the apartment across from yours and knocking on the door.

The door opened to reveal Peter.

“Oh, good you’re here, this will take just a second, May wants to –” he stopped abruptly, staring at you with eyes round as saucers.

“Um,” you began, he still kept staring.

“Earth to Peter, you still in there?” you snapped your fingers in front of his face as he blinked and turned a delicate shade of red.

“You – you look nice,” he managed to choke out.

“Thanks...?” you said, walking inside and taking a seat on the couch.

“Okay, um, M-may will take us there in her c-car, she’ll be h-here any moment, let’s just w-wait.”

“Pete, you having a stroke or something?” you asked in concern.

“No, I’m fine.” (A/N: he’s not 😉)

As if she had sensed Peter’s need to be rescued, Aunt May came walking into the room. She stopped at the sight of her nephew staring slightly at you, who was examining a coffee mug on the table. Smiling to herself, she cleared her throat.

Both of you jumped in surprise.

“We’re ready to go,” May stated, as the two of you got to your feet, following her to the car.

----------

“This was a mistake, wasn’t it?” you asked, looking at the doors of your school gym which were closed ominously.

“Why?” asked Peter in surprise, “I thought you wanted to go?”

“I do,” you admitted, “But – we don’t have dates, it’ll look so... lame.”

Peter scoffed, “Y/N, do you really need the dimwits that attend this school to justify how many cool points you have?”

“Not exactly,” you said in surprise, feeling slightly better.

“Yeah, come on, let’s just do it. Together, okay?” asked Peter as you nodded.

You both took nervous, deep breaths before pushing the doors open to reveal the commotion inside.

--------

You two were walking across the gym, interestedly examining the decorations ang pulling faces at the couples which were making out, till you bumped into something hard.

“OOF!” you groaned, falling to the floor.

“You okay?” Peter asked hurriedly, pulling you to your feet. As you both turned to look who it was, you were surprised to see Flash standing there with his mouth hanging open.

“No way,” he said, gaping, “HEY EVERYONE, LOOK! IT’S DATELESS L/N AND PENIS PARKER!”

You groaned as a million heads turned your way and slowly, the laughter broke out, jeers of the obscene names Flash had called you now echoing off the walls.

“Haha, real funny, Flash,” Peter said sarcastically, but once he saw your near-tears expression, he seized your wrist and pulled you out of the gym into the open.

“Come on,” he pacifyingly said, “Don’t cry over him, Y/N! He’s not worth it.”

“This is homecoming all over again,” you groaned, struggling to contain your tears, “School dances were never meant for me. Let’s just – let’s just go home and finish making that model spaceship we were working on.”

“Sounds like a worthwhile night to me,” Peter shrugged, tossing a brave smile your way, “You don’t need prom to be happy, you know. Let’s go.”

And so the two of you walked home, talking amongst yourselves, being the best friends you’d been since eight.

Best friends.

The sound of that word made your blood boil hot. How naïve were you? This was absolutely perfect – a million guys on the planet and you chose to fall for one who would never see you the same way.

As your apartment building came closer, Peter cleared his throat and spoke, “Wait in the living room with May for ten minutes. I have a surprise for you.”

“Seriously?” you asked, taken aback.

“Yeah, why not?”

“What is it?” you asked curiously.

Peter cocked an eyebrow.

“Kinda missing the point of a surprise if I told you what it was.”

“Makes sense,” you agreed, “Okay, but make it quick. I’m dying of curiosity.”

“You’ll live for another ten minutes,” Peter assured you.

Your curiosity was now bubbling to the surface like boiling water threatening to spill. You thought of what Peter could possibly have to surprise you, and you stopped to sit on a couch in the living room next to Peter’s aunt.

After exhausting every possibility (each as unlikely as the next), Peter finally dragged you ti the door of his room.

“... I’ve seen your room before, you know,” you laughed slightly.

“That’s not the surprise,” Peter playfully rolled his eyes, “Okay, close your eyes.”

“Jesus, Peter,” you snorted as his hands placed themselves over your eyes, “You are such a drama queen.”

“Open them... now!”

And you opened your eyes to see that the usual clutter surrounding Peter’s room had been cleared away, leaving some space for god-knows-what in the middle of it.

“Wow, you finally cleaned your room!” you exclaimed, “That is a surprise.”

“That’s still not the surprise!” Peter whined, “C’mere.”

He grabbed your hand and pulled you close as your brain clouded with confusion. What the heck was going on?

Peter threw his phone aside as a light waltz began playing through the air. Peter placed one hand on your waist and the other one to grab yours as your confusion cleared away.

“You said you wanted to go to prom,” Peter stated as you two swayed on the spot, moving slightly to the music, “You didn’t say where. Now we’re away from judgy eyes, we can be weird.”

“Seriously, Peter?” you giggled at his dorkiness, “I never knew you were so cute.”

The words had slipped from your mouth before you had time to think them through. You were praying he didn’t hear you, but a hitch in his breath made your heart drop.

“You – you think I’m cute?” Peter asked, blushing furiously.

“Well,” you sighed, there was no backing out of this, “... Yeah, I do.”

You looked down, refusing to meet his eyes.

“And the guy you wanted to get asked by...?” Peter didn’t need to finish his question; he knew you understood.

“Yes,” you whispered, tears brimming at the corner of your eyes once more.

You sucked in a deep breath and looked up, “Look, Peter, I know you don’t feel the same and it’s honestly okay –”

“Shut up,” Peter mumbled, his lips brushing over yours. Your lips brushed together a few times as the both of you melted into the addicting sensation, not aware of the surroundings, not caring in the least. To Peter, all that mattered in that moment, was you.

You two pulled apart after a while, both blushing like crazy with no idea what to do next. It was you who spoke first, shyly.

“I – I think it’s a good thing we’re alone right now. That would be an embarrassing yearbook photo.”

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x yn #spiderman x you #spiderman x yn #fluff #angst #prom #dance #cute #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu imagine

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 20 | S.R.)

Summary: Reader lies to Spencer.

A/N: Please read the content warnings for this one if you have basically any triggers, lol. This is a very heavy chapter - it is the penultimate climax of the story. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Angst (NSFW) Content Warning: 🚨 IMPORTANT – READ BEFORE READING🚨 This episode covers a number of very dark topics, and should be approached at a time when you have support systems available. Potential triggering topics include: sexual assault, violations of consent, suicide, self-harm, pregnancy/termination, infertility, domestic dispute, fighting, and underage drinking, sex w/ blanket consent Word Count: 11K

MASTERLIST

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Rossi’s house was every bit as extravagant as I had expected. I had come in honestly hoping to be slightly disappointed so I could mock him for it, but, as always, he had to force his appearance to be as unnecessarily elegant as possible.

That being said, I was a little surprised to find that most everyone gathered in one spot - the kitchen. It was only to be expected, considering it was usually the happiest room in the home. That certainly remained true for Rossi. But they were also all gathered there because that was where the wine was – wine that I was not allowed to drink.

Rossi didn’t have a problem with it… Spencer did. Because of course he did. And while I politely declined when Rossi offered me some, anyway, I found another offer a little more tempting. Which explains why I found myself clutching Derek’s flask and draining half the contents quickly enough to remind him that I was, in fact, in college.

And if anyone were to ask, I would simply tell them that we were hanging out in the hall outside the bathroom to have a very deep and secret heart-to-heart about our shared love for a certain mop headed genius. It would have been the perfect cover to use on pretty much everyone except…

“Ahem.”

The sound of Spencer’s throat clearing behind me was enough to cause me to choke, and I quickly tossed the closed flask back to an already giggling Derek as I shouted, “Fuck!” I didn’t even turn around when his hand snaked around my hip. Instead, I just groaned.

“The narc’s here,” I whispered to Derek, but he knew better than to answer.

“The narc?” Spencer balked, much to his friend’s delight.

“It was fun while it lasted,” Derek offered in consolation, taking a swig out of the flask and earning a very defensive glare from my boyfriend. In fact, Spencer seemed downright pissed, which wasn’t what I had been expecting when I agreed.

Oops. What’s the male equivalent of a cat fight?

“Morgan, didn’t you lecture me about her drinking underage a few months ago?” he snapped, grabbing the flask from a more than willing Derek. Spencer sniffed the contents and immediately recoiled, tossing it back again.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he mumbled, shooting a glance down to see me sort of just making heart eyes at the sight of my boyfriend being a stupid level of jealous that I'd been caught in the hallway with another boy.

“How does that make it better? That makes it patently worse,” he argued. Derek might have responded to it, too, if I hadn’t latched myself onto Spencer’s side.

“You’re so cute when you get all stupid and possessive,” I drawled, burying my face in his shoulder in what I think was supposed to be a playful kiss, but actually just ended up being a muffled laugh.

“That,” Derek chuckled, pointing to me teetering back and forth on my heels at Spencer’s side, “That is my cue to leave.” With one final wink, he whispered, “Don’t be too hard on him, Princess.”

Spencer’s angry sigh and entirely stiff posture should have served as my warning, but it was just funny to me at the time.

“They all think I’m the boss of us,” I giggled. “Me! The boss!”

“You’re drunk.” His tone dropped the second Derek was out of earshot, and on intimidation alone, he managed to back me against the wall.

“So is everyone but you. They won’t even notice,” I mumbled, although the more the hallway started to spin, the less I believed that. I'd never been very good at math or shots, and this was a pretty horrible miscalculation of just how much of my tolerance I’d lost.

“You really couldn’t wait a few more months? Or at least until we got home?”

He was chastising me, and I just wasn’t there to hear it. I probably could have figured it out if I’d tried, but it all sounded like sexy nonsense at the time. Walking my fingers down his chest, I paused at his belly before hooking them in his pants and pulling his hips against mine.

“I’m allowed to drink if my daddy says so,” I purred.

Spencer didn’t find my taunt as charming as I’d hoped, and before I knew it his hand was roughly pressed over my jaw. He tilted my head back to look him in the eyes, and I wondered if he could smell the whiskey on my breath.

“Well, I didn’t,” he growled.

I never said I was a perfect person, or even a smart one. And when I was drinking and Spencer whipped out his Daddy voice, I don’t know what he really expected me to do. But apparently, trying to grab his dick through his pants was the wrong move. He snatched my hand away quickly, slamming it against the wall before he continued his little impromptu lecture.

“I’m not rewarding you for this. We’re going home.”

“That’s not a very scary threat,” I deadpanned, throwing my body weight back against the wall.

That lasted about four seconds before he pulled me back to my feet and leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “Just wait, little girl. Just you wait until I get my fucking hands on you.”

I was going to make a snarky joke, to remind him that his hands were surely and firmly already on me, but I never got the chance. We were both too distracted by the very loud and very high pitched squeal of Penelope as she rounded the corner.

“Ah! I saw nothing!” she shouted, covering her face with her hands and refusing to remove them.

“Yeah, because we aren’t doing anything,” I laughed. But then, being the slightly cruel brat that I was, I stuck my tongue out at Spencer before tacking on a completely unnecessary, “anymore.”

“We weren’t doing anything before either!” he squeaked back. He wasn’t using his Daddy voice anymore. So swiftly, so easily, he’d been knocked from his higher footing.

Penelope took the words to heart, but only enough to slowly lower her fingers and peek between them. With a shaky voice and an awkward laugh, she started to rant. “Oh. It’s fine. I’m cool. We’re all cool. We don’t have to talk about that thing from the first time I met you ever again. Because we said we’d never talk about it again, do you remember that?”

“I do remember that,” I answered with a very sarcastic tone and a nod.

“And I just brought it up again, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” I whispered, “Yes, you did.”

“I’m so sorry. Spencer, Hotch is looking for you,” she rushed, turning to the beet-red boy at my side. “Okay, that’s it. Take your time, because I’m cool and not at all mortified.” She was basically already gone before she'd even finished talking, taking off in the direction she'd come from while downing the drink in her hand.

With a loose, clumsy wave I shouted back, “Bye, Penelope.”

“Mortified is a good word. An accurate word,” Spencer huffed as he wiped a hand over his face. His bashfulness, while cute, was not as exciting as the pre-Penelope behavior.

Running my hands underneath his blazer and up his back, I pressed my chest against his. “Gosh, Dr. Reid. You need to be more appropriate in such a public setting.”

The words, while meant to get him riled up, did more to frustrate me. My drunken mind was more than happy to revert to the metro, and before I knew it, my daydreams were filled with images of Spencer stuffing me into the tiniest closet he could find and having his way with me.

“Oh, I’m the one lacking manners?” Spencer chuckled as he apparently read my very lewd thoughts. He pried my arms off of him and pulled them back to rest at my sides before pressing a strangely chaste kiss on my forehead. “Go get your stuff. I’m going to go talk to Hotch and I’ll meet you by the door.”

Before he disappeared around the corner, he shot me one last warning glance and ordered, “Do not mingle!”

“Don’t worry, I will!” I yelled back.

Once he was gone, it was my job to figure out how to make my body work again. Luckily, it wasn’t the first time I’d had too much to drink in a room filled with drunk adults. Granted, they usually weren’t all cops, but, whatever.

Turns out, it somehow made it easier. I managed to grab my things off the counter without alerting anyone except Penelope, who quickly turned back around with a blush. She probably figured I was gonna go blow him in the bathroom or something. I’d have been offended if the thought hadn’t literally just crossed my mind. I made it all the way to the door before I heard it. Back through the halls, a few of the group had separated to talk about how much harder it had been to see Hotch and JJ. It was nothing, just a little bug spreading through daycares like wildfire. That wasn’t what upset me, though.

No, the thoughts running through my head were more than just a passing thought of kids sick with a cold. I looked up at the walls of the entryway to Rossi’s home and saw intricate moulding and nothingness. I saw the exquisite, pristine rug underneath my feet, and I thought about how lonely it felt.

I was standing in a house that should have felt happy, filled with friends and family and love. There was no doubt that everyone who was there wanted to be there, and probably had nowhere else they’d rather be. But the tall ceilings and thousands of square feet felt so goddamn empty.

It isn’t the building, I heard a tiny, terrified voice call out from inside my own conscience.

It’s you. You’re empty.

I had to leave. I had to get out of the house. I had to hear the silence so that the nothingness would feel more appropriate and less noticeable. I couldn’t let them see me, because if they saw me, they would know. They would know that I was nothing but a husk of the girl they used to know. Without even thinking, I threw the door open, stumbling forward and almost falling flat on my face as I misjudged the small step down to the patio.

“Fuck!” I muttered, the world rocking around me with a stubborn persistence. If it weren’t for the frankly freezing temperature, I was sure I would have been sick. To make matters worse, there was a person quickly approaching.

“Hey, are you and Spence leaving already?”

It was JJ. Thank god, it was JJ. Probably the only person who wouldn’t make fun of me for being a mess on Rossi’s steps after only a few shots of whatever Morgan was drinking.

“Oh. Hey, JJ. Yeah. He’s…” I turned to my side, half expecting Spencer to be there to answer for me. But he wasn’t, so I ended up just pointing to the closed door before slurring, “he’s doing a thing.”

She was, per usual, very kind when faced with my buffoonery, and just laughed as she shook her head. “A thing. Sounds like him.”

I honestly thought that would be the end of it. It was a good, easy segue into a farewell. She already knew we were leaving, and she knew Spencer well enough to know that he wouldn’t leave me alone for long.

And I think she almost did leave. She almost walked right past me and into the warmth and comfort of a home filled with family and friends. But she didn’t. She stopped and asked me the one question I was really hoping she wouldn’t.

“Are you alright?”

I didn’t want her to ask because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to lie to her. Even if I could have managed it, she would have seen right through me in a second. Not only would it have been an exercise in futility, but she would also know that I thought it was worth it to try to lie.

So, I was honest… quite possibly too honest.

“No, not really. But it’s a lot and I’m kind of drunk, so…”

The mom eyes appeared so quickly, with JJ’s body turning entirely away from the door and over to me. “Not usually a good combination, but an understandable one,” she softly replied, wrapping her arms around herself to make up for the fact that she was sacrificing her comfort in many different ways to talk to me, instead.

She was probably just being nice— staying with me until Spencer could come take over the babysitting of the drunk twenty year old, but I wasn’t exactly thinking critically at the time. Which is only part of the reason why I blurted out the only thing on my mind; the thing that had been haunting me for longer than I wanted to admit even to myself, much less another person.

“Has Spencer ever talked to you about kids?”

The air, still freezing, also fell uncomfortably silent.

“Oh…” she mumbled under her breath, clearly unsure of how to handle that particular minefield of a topic. Especially with her best friend’s girlfriend, who also happened to be drunk. I almost told her to forget about it, but then she looked up at me with a powerful resolve. “Yeah, he has. Why?”

I thought about my next words more carefully, although you wouldn’t have been able to tell considering how much I stuttered.

“Do you think… Do you think he’d be happy if… I can’t have them?” I asked, wringing my hands together over my stomach. “Like, not just happy today, but like ten years from now?” I could hear how desperate I sounded, but I needed someone to hear the words playing on loop in my mind. Absolutely frantic and with tears pooling in my eyes, I asked, “Do you think he’d still love me if I can’t give him kids?”

“(Y/n), slow down. It’s okay!” JJ urged, lunging forward to cup my cheeks and gently wipe away any stray tears. “Don’t cry! You’ll ruin your make up and it looks like you spent a lot of time on it.”

I had to laugh because not only was it my exact brand of humor, she said it with such a serious face that I had to wonder if it was genuinely her biggest concern. Of course, I knew it wasn’t. In her usual JJ way, she just knew the easiest way to cheer me up was with a laugh.

“Yeah, there’s like $80 on my face, it’s really not worth it to cry,” I agreed, sniffling softly when she finally pulled away her hands. At least I could blame that part on the cold.

“Exactly. And if you cry, then I’ll cry, and then I’ll also ruin my make up, and we’ll just be $150 down the drain with nothing to show for it,” she joked with a tired roll of her eyes and a shrug.

Together, we laughed, finding a pocket of warmth in a world that often felt too cold. Behind JJ’s eyes though, I saw an empathy I wasn’t expecting. That small, instinctual part of my brain tugged at my heart, telling me that there was an unspoken bond forming. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t know why. I had a feeling that it was one of those secrets you just didn’t ask about, so I let it go.

“Thanks. It’s a stupid thought anyway,” I sighed, shuffling my feet and knocking my heels against the somehow spotless patio. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, so why stress about it, right?”

But then JJ said something I wasn’t expecting. Something that I actually really, really needed to hear.

“I don’t know, I think you’re allowed to be worried. It’s normal to feel scared.”

The sentence hit me like a freight train carrying lead and cement. At first, my brain refused to comprehend it at all. I struggled to repeat the idea, not because I was drunk but because it sounded so wrong. I had wanted it to be true so badly, and here she was, telling me it was okay.

Sensing my simultaneous trepidation and revelation, JJ cringed a bit when she said, “But I think it is a good idea to talk to Spence about it instead of me. Because, to be honest, I’ve also had one too many glasses to be helpful.”

That time when I laughed, it was full-hearted and involved every muscle in my body. “God, I love you, Jennifer,” I said through the noise.

She just shook her head, clearly enjoying the drastic mood swing she’d had a great part in. “I love you, too,” she whispered, running her hand over my shoulder and arm to pull me into a small half-hug. And that was how Spencer found us, giggling and sniffling on Rossi’s porch.

“Hey, are you ready to— Oh! Hey JJ,” he stopped, taking a very hesitant step forward in the hope that we wouldn’t both start crying on the spot. Drunk girls had a tendency to do that. “W-What are you guys doing out here?”

She let me go first, shoving her hand, still damp with my tears, into her pockets with a secretive smile. “Girl talk.”

“That usually doesn’t bode well for me,” Spencer answered with an awkward, nervous laugh. He didn’t make a move to grab me yet, probably too scared to step between the two of us. I was too busy giggling at the thought of his mind cycling through all the possible secrets I might have spilled in my uninhibited state.

I was tipsy, but I wasn’t that drunk.

JJ pulled two fingers over her mouth in a cheeky motion as she whispered, “My lips are sealed.”

“An even worse sign,” Spencer winced, turning to finally wrap his arm around me. He must have noticed the chill on my skin, because seconds later he had me practically wrapped in his coat. “I should just cut my losses and get her out of here, huh?”

“Shut up, old man,” I slurred, cuddling closer to his body heat despite my protests. Even in the darkness, I watched the heat bloom in his face at the nickname. By far, the worst part about the situation was the fact that I couldn’t kiss him, because I just knew he would be so warm, and I was really starting to get cold. I suspect that’s why he started to whisk me away, unceremoniously shushing me as JJ cleared her throat and raised her hand in a wave.

Before we got too far, though, I heard her speak again. “Oh! (Y/n), your questions!”

“What about them?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder and nearly falling to the ground as a result.

JJ looked at me, and then back to Spencer, whose arm was wrapped possessively around me. She smiled a pure, toothy grin that filled her face, causing that weird feeling in my gut to flare up again. She saw something in that moment that I wasn’t sure I’d ever really understand, but her voice started to crack just enough to notice when she called out, “The answer is yes. To all of them.”

—————————————————

The ride back to Spencer’s place was uneventful, though I tried very hard to make it interesting. After the fourth time he'd swatted away my hand and threatened to throw me in the back, I gave in to his demand to behave. I blamed my compliance on the alcohol, although it was probably more so a result of total exhaustion.

The respite from socialization was apparently what I needed to be able to function again, because as soon as we pulled into his apartment parking lot, I was awake.

... Awake enough to try and maul him in the hallway. But, in his sober stubbornness, he continued to evade my advances all the way until his front door clicked shut behind us. His hands on my hips had never felt like such a victory before.

“Did you enjoy wreaking havoc all night?” he whispered, slowly leading us towards his room. I couldn’t see where I was going, but I didn’t need to. Even without an eidetic memory, my body cherished this path and the memories it always led to. I trusted him to catch me if I stumbled. Which, I definitely did.

“I’m the cutest devil you’ll ever see,” I slurred.

“At least you admit it,” Spencer laughed. I couldn’t tell if it was at my words or the fact that I was failing terribly at trying to unbutton his shirt. My drunk self was not a skilled multitasker.

Once I felt the bed against the back of my thighs, I hopped on top of the covers before he could even try to help me up. It was muscle memory. We’d been there before.

“I’m feeling more fallen angel tonight,” I sighed, sliding against the comforter until I found his pillow.

Naturally, Spencer saw the way I gravitated to his side. He smiled as he removed his shirt that I’d left mostly intact. “By all means, feel free to stay that way.”

I probably should have taken off my dress, or my shoes, but I didn’t. The world sort of felt like a wave pool on a sunny day, and I was worried that if I paid too much attention to what was going on around me, I'd think about something I really didn’t want to think about.

I couldn’t remember what it was.

But then Spencer’s hands were gliding up and down my calves, and I shuddered at the contact. He took his time removing my shoes before coming up to join me on all fours. I wondered if he could taste the whiskey on my tongue when he kissed me. Did it remind him of the circumstances that had brought us together? Did it remind him of his hangover and sins?

Did he think of monsters when he kissed me?

My hands were tangled in his hair, pulling lightly to try to keep him there. And when he pulled away, I tried to fight him. I tried to follow him, scared that once the kiss was over, I’d start remembering things I probably should have tried to forget.

He must have seen the denial in my eyes, because he hesitated. His hand came up to lightly grab my wrist and lead my hand that had a death grip on his hair down to his face. “Are you too drunk? Should we stop?”

Throwing my head back with a groan, I tried not to hate him for actually caring about me again. “If you stop right now, I’m going to actually scream,” I droned. It got me a laugh, at least.

“That doesn’t comfort me in the slightest.”

Once I opened my eyes, I found myself wishing I hadn’t. It wasn’t that I saw hesitancy or fear in Spencer’s eyes – on the contrary, it was the lack of anything bad at all that bothered me. I looked into his eyes and saw nothing but a sincere, pure adoration that I couldn’t argue with.

I chose to ignore it, instead. I couldn’t remember why it made my stomach hurt.

“Are you going to make me do a sobriety test?” I giggled, letting my hands travel down his shoulders and chest. I wasn’t in as much of a rush as I had been earlier. I wanted to take my time remembering what it felt like to be pinned under him and surrounded by his embrace.

“I’m positive that you’ve practiced those while drunk,” he playfully replied while trying to hide the way goosebumps followed my fingers as they trailed down to more interesting territory.

“Yeah, I can say the alphabet backwards and everything.”

It was meant as a joke, but Spencer apparently had some doubts. With a scrunched up smile, he laughed back as he asked, “Really?”

The fact that he believed I was capable of something like that might have been flattering if it hadn't been based on his incredibly flawed perception of my propensity to lawbreaking. But since it was based on ideas of immorality rather than intelligence, it just made me mad.

Smacking him lightly on the chest, I both pouted and laughed as I snapped back, “No, of course not, asshole!”

Spencer just grinned, giving a delayed wince at the offensive contact before he sat up again. I didn’t realize why at first, but as he slowly started to coax me into turning around, I remembered that I was, in fact, still fully dressed. I figured it was either his way of saying that I’d won, or just an excuse to take off the dress so I might actually go to sleep. I was fine with either.

“I was drunk the first night we met, if you’ve forgotten,” I mumbled, rolling onto my side of the bed and moving my hair so that he wouldn’t catch any in the zipper.

“I definitely haven’t forgotten that night.”

The nostalgia in his voice was both comforting and painful. We’d always joked about that night, though. It wasn’t an insult at all.

“No? Do you think about it often?” I replied playfully, forcing myself not to think too hard about whether he wished I was still the girl he'd met that day.

Spencer made it easy to forget, with his hand starting to draw the zipper down while he leaned forward to whisper in my ear, “I think about it all the time.” My breath hitched in my throat at the way his voice warped into a rough, raspy tone. “You almost made me believe that you were just some shy, innocent little girl.”

This time when he got me to turn back over, there was nothing gentle about it. His hands were clearly craving the kind of violence they got to use last time. I wanted to feel them again.

“We can make a new memory if you want,” I panted, looking up at him with wanton eyes and my dress loose enough to expose parts of my breasts to him.

“Fuck,” he muttered at the sight below him. He pressed his erection against my hip as he ran a hand over my cheek. “Tell me the rules.”

“I tell you to stop if I need to,” I carefully enunciated.

“Good girl,” he moaned, starting to rock against me. Struggling to pull my dress off himself, he pleaded in a slightly pitiful manner, “Can I…?”

I helped him, desperate to feel his skin against mine. I didn’t even think about what it meant for my dress to be gone. It wasn’t until Spencer’s mouth dropped to my chest so enthusiastically that I realized that he’d failed to stop and kiss my lips first.

With both hands on my breasts, he lavished each pebbled peak with his fingers and tongue. He hadn’t ever mentioned the fact that he’d missed me shirtless, but it was painfully obvious in the way his lips trailed along my body. It was obvious in the rumbling of his moans against my skin and the way his hands roughly kneaded the soft tissue.

I was forced to remember why I hadn’t let him see me topless.

I felt naked. Not because of the exposed skin, but because I couldn’t warp reality with lace or cotton anymore. My marred stomach might not have made a physical barrier, but it still made him feel so far away. It was a paralyzing kind of realization, and I felt myself retreat so quickly that it hurt.

Thankfully, it was Spencer who was kissing me. If it had been anyone else, I think I would have just laid there, terrified and small and alone. But I couldn’t do that with him.

“Spencer?” I quietly called, and he immediately stopped, his eyes meeting mine with all the attention a girl could ever ask for. I smiled, and the sensation almost felt foreign.

“Come kiss me here instead,” I said with a little giggle, tapping my lips to bring him back to where I wanted him. And he came to me so quickly, his mouth crashing onto mine in seconds and his hands tangling in my hair.

I had forgotten so quickly how easy it was to get lost in him. Thanks to the alcohol, my mind wasn’t able to stick with any thought for longer than a few seconds. Mixing that with Spencer’s hands and mouth, I was never going to be able to think in more than a few words at a time. And I shouldn’t have needed to, right? It was just sex. We’d done it many times before, and it had never been a disappointment. But there was a nagging feeling in the back of mind — some instinctual warning that told me I was doing something wrong.

I wanted him, so what could be wrong about that? There was nothing painful or unappreciated in the way he lined himself up at my entrance, and I certainly made that much clear. It was hard to even hear him over the sound of my own moans, and my nails dug into his shoulder as I guided him into me with my hips.

“I love you,” I cried, wrapping my legs around his waist and digging my heels into the back of his thighs.

“I love you so much, little girl,” he whispered against my lips, his forehead resting against mine.

For a moment, it was okay. The feeling subsided long enough for me to enjoy the fact that Spencer, the man I loved, loved me back. I thought about how long it had taken us to get to this point, and how I never wanted to lose it again. I held onto him for dear life, rocking my hips to meet his and bringing his mouth down to mine.

It was okay, until he spoke again.

“You’re such a good girl,” he groaned into my mouth, “even when you’re being bad you just want to be useful.”

Useful.

The word had come back to haunt me several times in the recent weeks. I hadn’t said anything about it because I couldn’t understand why it bothered me so much. There was no reason for me to be upset. He was just saying what I usually liked to hear.

So why did it hurt?

And I realized then, that the reason that experience felt so horrible wasn’t because of me at all. It was because it was Spencer. It was Spencer, the man I loved. There he was, trying to love me and comfort me and hold me and I…

In a rush of emotions and memories and repressed regrets, I was forced to face the fact that I had made a terrible mistake. The kind of mistake that if I didn’t do something about it in that exact, immediate moment, would become a disaster. The kind of disaster that meant he might never want to touch me again. The kind that would make him hate me. The kind that would make him leave and I couldn’t blame him for.

I had made a mistake.

“Wait, wait, Spencer, stop!” I slurred, my hands that had been holding him close seconds earlier shoving him off of me with the little force I was capable of. It didn’t take much, though, considering how fast he jumped back.

Frantic and terrified, he grabbed my face and tried to inspect my eyes that were avoiding him. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t look at him. “No, I just really need to stop,” I muttered, my breath picking up even more as I slid away from him, “Can I just— Can you just give me a minute?”

My hands slid over my chest, trying to hide the shame I felt inside to no avail. Spencer only made it worse in the way he quickly grabbed clothing, covering me in his shirt before he dressed himself. He even took the time to find me pants and help me in them, quietly and carefully. Like a doll.

I was going to be sick.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” he croaked brokenly while he curled up at my side, trying to wrap his arms around me before he realized I was shrinking away from his touch. He was so confused. He had no reason to know what was going on, but I could see on his face that he was desperately trying to figure it out.

“Does this have something to do with what you were talking to JJ about?”

An interesting question. I didn’t know the answer.

“Yes. No? Maybe. I guess?” I ran a hand over my face that landed on my throbbing temple. The lack of tears on my face almost surprised me. I probably should have been crying, but I wasn’t. In a way, it felt like I had no tears left to give. When I turned to him, bile rose in my throat and I was afraid that I might choke on it if I didn’t get the words out faster. I just had to tell him. He needed to know.

“Listen, I lied to you. And I need to say something.”

I had just gotten my breathing under control, just in time for his to go erratic. His pulse was visible in his throat as he swallowed. “Lied to me? About what?”

“I…” The world was rocking, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of the alcohol or my brain trying to comprehend my own self-destructive stupidity. I knew which one I was going to blame, though. “Fuck, I didn’t think I was this drunk.”

“What did you lie to me about?” he repeated, his hands gripping handfuls of the sheet in hopes of stopping the rest of his body from trembling.

“Well, I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell you.”

It was the most useless clarification, and it did absolutely nothing to appease his concern. The longer the words stayed stuck and muddled in my mouth, the more devastated he seemed. In hindsight, I would realize all the millions of awful reasons his mind must have been feeding him in the absence of the truth.

“Please, whatever it is, just tell me,” Spencer begged with a hesitant, shaky hand coming to rest on top of mine. He wasn’t looking at me anymore. Instead, we both looked down at our hands. It was a mercy and a disservice. I just had to tell him, but I couldn’t convince myself to do it without looking him in the eyes. That didn’t mean I wasn’t grateful that he didn’t look back, though. Because once the words were said, there would be no going back from them.

He was going to hate me.

“I… stopped taking my birth control,” I whispered in a voice that felt so foreign. “Like, a while ago.”

Spencer’s jaw steeled, his eyes widening and shooting up to me with the same speed he used to jump off the bed. Despite my efforts to grab him, to stop him from leaving me, he was five feet away in a matter of seconds.

“What?!” he shouted. It was the loudest I’d ever heard him. Even the echoes felt deafening, and my hands covered my ears with a wince.

“Shit! That was loud!” I whined in a pathetic attempt to make him feel bad for me. I didn’t deserve it, but I think it worked. Because the next time he spoke, it was at a more manageable volume.

“What do you mean you stopped taking your birth control?! When?!”

“Stop yelling at me.” I pulled my knees to my chest and ignored the pain in my stomach when I did so. It felt well deserved.

“You aren’t joking, either. Why didn’t you tell me this?” Spencer continued, his hands raking through his hair while he started to pace the room.

Nothing about it felt real. I felt like I was stuck in one of my million recurring nightmares. I just wanted to wake up, to be somewhere other than in a room too small for the bass in his voice. I only barely saw him when he finally approached me. He still stayed a few feet away, but he met my eyes that stared vacantly at the wall ahead of me.

“Answer me!”

Whether it was the order that broke me or the pain in his voice, all of my resolve and apathy shattered at once.

“You’ve always said you wanted to get me pregnant!” I screamed back, digging my nails into my skin in the hope of finding feeling there.

“Not like this! Not right now!” he scoffed. The sound would have hurt more if he hadn't stepped closer to me when he made it.

“Why not?!” I tried to sound angry, but all I heard was the plea beneath the words.

I just want to be useful. Please let me be useful.

“Are you serious?” Spencer’s disbelief was present in every ounce of his existence. His hands were alternating between fists and flat palms, his voice cracking and wavering in pitch. “What has gotten into you? You know that you can’t have a child right now.”

I bit down on my tongue in one final attempt to keep the scary words inside. But he couldn’t feel the way his words felt just like bullets and scar tissue that would never fully heal again.

“You almost died! Do you—“ he choked, but powered through his body’s attempt to stop the thought. “Do you understand the danger that would put you in?”

“I know, alright?! I know!” The words were loud and hoarse, and I covered my own ears to hopefully drown out the sound of failure on my own tongue. “I know I can’t have a fucking kid right now!”

“Then what are you doing?!”

I don’t know. Please, help me.

He waited for my answer, but it stayed trapped in my head. When I started to rock in place, my hands still clamped over my ears and the tears I swore I didn’t have starting to fall, he sighed.

“Get up, we’re going to the store.”

“Why?” I spat, sinking further into my spot in a purely selfish manner.

“Get up,” he said again, this time reaching out for my hand.

But I didn’t want to touch him. I didn’t want him to touch me like this. I was scared that if I did what he wanted, then the fight would be over. And if the fight ended, then what would be left? Was this all just some elaborate ruse to get me in his car so that he could drive me home and leave me there?

His hand touched mine so softly, with so much patience and love that it burned. Why wasn’t he angrier? He should be.

“No!” I screamed, smacking his hand away from me. Although I knew it didn’t hurt, I saw him wince at the contact. His lips flattened as he looked at the stupid sobbing girl on his bed.

Then he left. He turned on his heel, and with less patience that time, grumbled the explanation he'd refused to give before. “We’re going to the store and getting levonorgestrel so that you don’t make the stupidest mistake of your life.”

It wasn’t the words that got me to move, but the fact that he was quickly leaving the room. I scrambled after him recklessly, crashing into just about every stationary object in the way. The shock had hit me so hard that I forgot I was still drunk.

“Is it really that awful to imagine having a future with me?” I sobbed, chasing after him just to crash into him when he stopped.

He still caught me, but I couldn’t tell you why.

“You know that’s not what this is about.” He sounded so tired, but he kept going. He kept fighting with me even though I could see in his eyes that it was the last thing he wanted to do. “I love you, (y/n)! But you’re acting like… like a child!”

“Fuck you,” I seethed, pushing myself away from him.

I was scared that if I didn’t force our bodies apart, I would have fallen to pieces in his arms again. And I knew he would try to put me back together again. He would try to help me because that’s what he always did. But sometimes things are just completely, irrevocably broken. Sometimes there was simply no fixing it.

Good luck convincing Spencer of that.

“I don’t need this shit and I don’t need to go to the store,” I muttered under my breath as I made my way back into the bedroom to locate my purse that I’d so gracefully thrown on the floor.

“(Y/n), just because the chances of pregnancy are low doesn’t mean they are nonexistent, and I’m not going to be the reason you throw your life away! You said yourself you aren’t ready to be a housewife!” I heard him rambling from the other room. Eventually, he followed the sounds of plastic packaging and rustling paper.

“Shut up,” I groaned, finally getting the tiny pill free and successfully shoving it in my mouth before I managed to drop it. “Just leave me alone, Spencer.”

Obviously, it wasn’t going to work. After all, I was in his apartment, and currently sitting cross legged in the middle of his bedroom and trying to dry swallow a pill that tasted a lot like every mistake I’d ever made.

“When did you buy that? And why do you have it with you?” He didn’t sound angry at all anymore. He didn’t even particularly sound annoyed or confused, just… exhausted.

“You’re welcome for saving you the drive.”

Of all the things he could have done, he chose the one I expected the least. He came to me, and carefully lowered himself to the ground in front of me. At first, that was all he did. He just sat across from me with puppy dog eyes and an awkward posture.

“Look at me,” he called gently.

“I don’t want to.”

He sighed, waiting another second to catch his breath and let the earlier emotions settle in the air. “You had that in your purse. Why?” he asked as he reached forward to grab the remnants of the torn up box and confirm that it was what he thought it was. Once he was satisfied, he just sounded even more broken. “You’ve clearly thought about it enough to plan ahead, but apparently I wasn’t important enough to have a say in any of these decisions.”

The pain that was forming in my stomach hurt worse than the AR-15.

“Were you just… Just planning on making those decisions without even telling me?” He was on the verge of tears, though he tried his very best to hide it. It might’ve worked if I'd been both drunk and an idiot, but unfortunately the adrenaline was combatting the alcohol pretty well at that point.

With both hands covering his face, I could still see the way his jaw tensed between the words. “It would be my child, too,” he forced out, “You don’t— You don’t get to make those decisions without me. T-That’s not fair.”

The sounds were so pitiful, and I wanted to feel anything but what I felt. I wanted to feel angry or sad again, but I couldn’t. All I felt was hate; the most powerful, soul crushing self-loathing imaginable.

I didn’t want to be the reason he cried. I wanted it to stop, but I didn’t know how. I couldn’t control myself. I just kept rubbing salt in the wound so he would leave. So that I could hate him for leaving me instead of hating myself for making him.

“There’s no kid. I would’ve taken it either way.”

That succeeded in getting a response.

“Then what was the point of any of this?!” he fumed, dropping his hands to gestured to the state of us, dressed in pajamas and tears. “If you really believe that, then why tell me? Why risk it at all?!”

“I don’t know.”

“I deserve a better answer than that. That’s bullshit and you know it,” he demanded with an accusing finger.

But I didn’t know that it was bullshit. Really, it was the truth. I didn’t know why I was doing this. All I knew was that if I stopped, if I was just honest with him, I would have to face a reality I wasn’t ready for.

“I deserve the truth,” he said as his hand fell, unable to stay up under the weight of the feeling behind it.

I looked at him and I saw my mistakes in the form of tears trickling down his cheeks and a tremble in his lips. I saw a man who deserved nothing but the greatest love, begging me to give him something to work with. He wasn’t asking me for the world — he just wanted me to talk. To say something so that he could understand why I wanted him to hate me.

I didn’t have an answer. Not one that either of us would believe, anyway.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Spencer.” My lips moved without my permission, and my legs quickly followed the traitorous pursuit.

“What does that mean?” he begged me as he followed me. He followed me like he always did, with that suffocating hopefulness that we could make it.

But what if I couldn’t? What if this was it for me? What if, in my desperate desire to push him away, I was saving him from a miserable life with me?

I was trying to save him.

“It means…” I paused, turning to look him in the eyes so that he might finally hear what he needed to in my answer. “It means you should’ve picked a different 20 year old to fuck.”

His jaw finally relaxed, dropping open with a broken breath.

And I think he saw it. I think he saw the way I meant the words from the bottom of my soul. He heard me tell him that he should regret me while I tried to walk away, and he knew that I meant it.

“I’m leaving.” The words surprised me when I heard them in my own voice, but I followed them, nonetheless. I barreled towards the door with bare feet and my keys in my hand.

“Where are you going? You can’t leave like this.” His statements were logical, but that only served to further piss me off.

“You can’t tell me what to do. I’m not your property!”

That wasn’t why I was angry. We both knew that wasn’t why. The real reason, the truth behind the reckless self-destruction was approaching too fast and I couldn’t slow it down. Nothing could stop it from rushing down the predetermined path that we stood on, and I was begging him to get off the tracks.

“If you leave right now, you’re going to fucking kill yourself!”

And then it happened. Practically foaming at the mouth with the unhinged rage that had been boiling underneath my skin for too long, I finally managed to let the words go.

“Maybe that’s the fucking point!”

Silence had never been so loud. It had never been that heavy.

“Have you ever stopped to consider that, Spencer?” I laughed because there was no reason in my mind not to. It all seemed so terribly obvious and we’d been skirting around it for so long. Why were we pretending like this was news? Like we hadn’t heard the horns and seen the headlights approaching?

“Please stop.” It was said like a plea but meant as an order. But I never listened to directions and he already knew that.

“I’m not your problem just because you were unfortunate enough to fall in love with me,” I continued, finding a freedom in being able to finally say what I’d been thinking all along. “Put me out of my fucking misery, Spencer. Just let me go.”

“Stop!” he shouted, pulling fistfuls of his hair as his chest heaved with deep, rasping breaths. I’d heard that voice from him before, but only once. The memories were locked away in the part of my brain that I swore to leave locked up.

I was back in the bank. I could feel his hands slipping in blood on my stomach and pressing into my cheeks. I was in the ambulance again. His hands were so warm that they burned, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask him to leave. I'd had one foot in the grave then. I felt like I was still there, teetering over the edge with nothing but Spencer’s frantic breathing and desperate begging keeping me from jumping in.

“Stop saying that!” Spencer ordered, his hands letting go just enough to come back down on his head with some force. I jumped at the contact and wondered when I'd started feeling his pain, too. I wondered when we'd found ourselves back in his apartment again.

“Y-You aren’t going to die!” He continued. It didn’t have the force of an order or the pathetic breaking of a cry. It was just a statement he was trying to will into existence. An attempt to ward off memories that reminded him he was capable of losing me. He had already almost lost me once. In a way, it was this same scenario.

It was just that he wasn’t losing me quickly from a gunshot wound. No, I was bleeding out in an entirely different way.

“You can’t— I can’t lose you. I can’t do it again,” he sobbed, falling to his knees and not caring at all about the bruises that would follow. The sight of him collapsing in on himself was terrifying, and I realized for the first time the true consequences of my actions. I couldn’t pretend that I was trying to save him anymore. I couldn’t listen to the congested, barely comprehensible ramblings of a man begging me not to want to die and act like I was thinking of him at all.

I was being selfish. How very much like me.

“Please, anything but that. You can hate me forever, but please don’t…” The words trailed off, and I felt compelled to answer them. I needed something to release the knot in my chest and allow my lungs to fill again.

“I don’t hate you, Spencer. I could never hate you.” The words were infuriating in their honesty, but he needed to hear them. He needed to know that none of this was his fault, that he’d done nothing wrong other than meet me.

I couldn’t leave him like that. He deserved so much better than me, but that was all that I had. So, I climbed down next to him, reaching out to him and hoping that he would hold me back.

To my surprise, he did. His hands grabbed mine like they were a lifeline, bringing them to his lips wet with tears. And although he was silent, I could hear the way he prayed that they wouldn’t fade away from him again.

“I-I… I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell you. I’m supposed to be the adult here, I’m supposed to know how to fix these things, but I have no idea what I’m doing, (y/n).”

It was an admission Spencer didn’t often make. The complete helplessness and inability to fix the puzzle before him didn’t just hurt because it was painful to watch, it was also just another reminder of his limits.

One time he had promised me that he wouldn’t let anything hurt me. I should have told him that it was a stupid promise to make then. I should have showed him the skeletons in my closet and the mess in my hands.

But it didn’t matter anymore. He had already seen it, and it was too late. I’d made too many mistakes, and I had to face them. I couldn’t run away anymore. That meant listening to Spencer, pouring his heart out to me and clutching my hands like they would turn to nothing in front of him.

“You’re falling apart and you won’t talk to me. I don’t know how to make this stop hurting. I don’t know how to help you. Sometimes you’re so happy but other times I can see it in your eyes…”

Our eyes met, unguarded, for the first time in what felt like hours but was actually probably only a few minutes. We looked into each other’s eyes and tried to read each other’s minds. I didn’t know what he saw, but I heard the way it struck him.

“Do you… Do you want to leave me?” he asked.

And I realized then, that was what my behavior was leading up to. That was what my mind was racing towards, without ever considering whether it was what was best for me. Because I wasn’t thinking about what was best for me, or what I wanted, or what I should want. All I cared about was the same concern Spencer had for me— I didn’t want him to throw his life away just to be with me.

“Is that what you want?” I asked.

Spencer heard something in my question that brought life back to his eyes. I wished that I could hear his thoughts because he always seemed so much farther ahead. Like he could see the immediate future and knew what would follow.

Then again, maybe I was just idealizing him. I had a tendency to do that. He wasn’t a superhero. He was just a man, trying his best in a world that never really let him rest. I certainly didn’t help with that.

“No. No, that’s not what I want at all,” he said, his hands finding the courage to let go of mine and slide up my arms. He cupped my face with such an urgency and relief that it almost felt the same as before I had uttered those terrifying words. “I told you I want to marry you and I wasn’t kidding.”

It only took a few words for any progress and vulnerability to be obliterated. Four words. That’s all it took.

I want to marry you.

A white picket fence is what I’d promised him. I'd painted a vivid image of us with two children that were just like him. A normal, domestic life is what I’d said.

I hadn't known. I'd made a mistake. I had lied.

“Stop fucking saying that!” I wished the fight would leave my body and let my weary muscles rest, but it kept coming back. Sure as the sun rises in the morning, I couldn’t let go of the hatred. It had to go somewhere, and Spencer continued to be the stupid, stubborn man putting himself in front of me without any defenses.

I don’t think he was expecting that, though. He jumped back at the sound, his hands bracing his fall as I flailed to get away from him. I didn’t have the energy or coordination to stand, so I just let myself fall to pieces on the floor in front of him.

“Stop telling me about this future you have planned for us b-because I’m a useless, idiotic fuck up, and it’s freaking me the fuck out!”

Naturally, the only thing that could incense Spencer more than violating his trust was, apparently, talking badly about myself. Because as soon as he heard the words, he was wound up just the same.

“What are you so afraid of?!”

Without thinking about the words, implications, or consequences, I gave him the answer he fought for. I gave it to him because I couldn’t hold it any longer. I gave it to him and hoped that it would grant me the closure he sought, too.

��That I won’t ever be able to give you a baby and you’re going to fucking leave me!”

Spencer, in all his shock and disbelief, could only utter back a single, exasperated, “…What?” The way the word fell out of his mouth almost sounded like a laugh, the side of his lips curling into an almost imperceptible smile.

“I’m scared that when I stop being useful to you, you’re going to leave me like everyone else,” I explained, my voice as small as I felt in that moment.

But Spencer, in his uncanny ability to predict the future, was trying not to smile. Don’t get me wrong — he wasn’t laughing at me, and the words certainly brought him no joy. But there was something else buried beneath the suffering.

“Come here,” he requested with a sad, small grin and a wave of his hand. When he saw the hesitance on my face, he beckoned me closer again with more feeling. “I want to talk to you. Come here.”

So I came. I came as close to him as I could. And as I practically sat in his lap, I remembered how much easier it was to breathe when he held me, and how much lighter the tears felt when he wiped them a way.

“Why do you think I’m going to leave you?” he asked through a chuckle, like the very notion was so unbelievable that it couldn’t be uttered as anything other than a joke.

“Y-You want kids,” I mumbled, looking down at our t-shirts wet with tears. I played with the hem of his to remind myself that we were both still there. And although Spencer sympathized, he didn’t seem too keen on me looking away at that particular moment. With a gentle finger under my chin, he guided my eyes back to his.

“Okay. So do you, right?”

“Well, yeah…” I paused and pursed my lips and bit down on the bottom one. I waited until he raised his eyebrows in a challenge before I explained. “But what if I can’t have any?”

Spencer’s face scrunched up with his shoulders in a dismissive shrug, “There are other ways to have kids. I’m not worried about that at all.”

Just like that, he’d waved away my fears of inadequacy and failure like they were smoke from an already snuffed out candle. He made it so clear so quickly that biology wasn’t the thing that mattered. That it wasn’t my genetics or physical traits that made him want to share a literal life with me.

Spencer didn’t need me to have his children; he just wanted me to raise some with him.

“Why are you worried about that? Did something happen?” he pressed forward, unsatisfied with the idea that I might still be carrying some heaviness without his assistance.

“The doctor told me that I might not ever be able to have my own kids and I just...”

I should have known better than to doubt the insistence of his greedy hands. They would never let a burden belong solely to me. And I… didn’t want to bear the weight alone anymore, either. The dam was broken, and my heart came rushing out into his waiting arms.

“I’m so tired of it, Spencer. I’m tired of this stupid shit stealing my life away from me. You’ve been taking care of me for months, a-and the way you look at me sometimes-- I can see it on your face. I can feel the way it hurts you just to look at me.”

That hurt flashed in his eyes right then but faded with a swiftness I hadn’t seen in a long time. He didn’t want me to see it yet. One fight at a time, I heard him think. When this shifted load balanced between us again, we could figure the rest out.

First, we had to settle this. It had to end.

“If I can’t give you children, and I can’t... I can’t make you happy then—“

“Stop,” he demanded, his finger coming up to cover my lips. There was no argument to be made at his protest. With a deathly seriousness veiled with bowed brows and a lip that still trembled, Spencer whispered to me, “You can feel however you want to, but you don’t get to decide how I feel.”

Tears welled in both of our eyes, threatening to fall with the other. But they didn’t, they stayed pooled at our lashes and drowned us in visions of haloed lights and blurry reflections.

“I am so happy with you. No matter what. Every second of every day. Do you understand me?”

The only answer I had the strength to give was my surrender. Collapsing forward into his arms, I buried my face into his shoulder. I reveled in the warmth of his chest and the strength of his hands on my back. I felt his heartbeat against my cheek as the deep, joyful breaths he took in came out as relieved laughter.

“I love you, (y/n).”

He must have heard, or at least felt, my soft groan in response, because he peeled me off of him with a smirk. “What’s wrong now?” he asked in an equally tired whine.

“You only use my name when you’re angry or sad,” I grumbled through a pout. It only felt a little silly, to joke about something so stupid minutes after screaming our hearts at each other. We were just so tired, and the finish line was in sight. We just wanted to cross it together, and preferably with less tears involved.

Spencer didn’t say any of that, but I felt it, nonetheless. It was clear in the way he pushed my hair from my face before running his fingers down my jaw. “I use your name when I’m worried,” he corrected. “And you scared me tonight. I’m sorry that you’ve been feeling this way.”

We were toeing the line back into heavy emotions, and I shook my head to ask him not to take me back there tonight. But I couldn’t blame him at the same time. He’d so gracefully handled all of my fears and rage; he deserved a chance to voice his own. They’d fallen so far behind in the race towards the truth.

“I understand you were scared to tell me, but...” he stopped, trying to find a way to explain it without hurting my feelings. He really was too nice to me.

“I know. It was stupid. I feel terrible,” I finished for him. Once my face hit his shoulder again, I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry, Spencer,” I said with almost all of the energy I had left. He stroked soothing patterns over my back, and after a moment I realized that we’d started to rock. I wasn’t sure if it was for his benefit or mine.

“I appreciate your apology, but please promise me that you’ll talk to someone about this,” he humbly requested, his words muffled in my hair.

“Isn’t that what I’m doing right now?”

It was almost a joke. Spencer wasn’t going to let it go, though. “Don’t try to be clever with me, little girl. I need you to talk to someone who knows how to help you,” he playfully scolded.

Through a yawn and a chuckle, I pressed on in my attempt to end the night on a horrible joke. “Isn’t that your whole job?”

“Yeah, I guess it is sometimes, huh?” he agreed halfheartedly. Really, he was only trying to give me a little bit of a win. We both knew his job wasn’t very good at helping people before the fact. It was just another poor attempt at avoiding healing. I had been holding on to that anger so tightly that there wasn’t room for us in the space that was left.

“But I think you also know I can’t be that person for you,” Spencer eloquently said, cradling my head as it started to rock with each motion.

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed, “I promise.”

I’m not sure how long we stayed like that, but no matter what, it wouldn’t have lasted long enough. The rhythm of his heart evened out over time, settling into the lullaby I needed to finally find some rest. But realistically, we couldn’t sleep there. Spencer was kind enough to practically carry me back into the bed we had shared when this all started, although this time he laid beside me.

From there, he helped tuck me in and pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead. My eyes were closed, but the smile that spread over my cheeks was enough of a signal that I was still awake.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

My bloodshot eyes opened at his call, and I found love staring back at me. I knew he could see my eyes bouncing back and forth as I tried to see all of it at once in his eyes, and I didn’t care. Even when he kissed me, neither of us closed them.

“We don’t have to worry about anything,” he said as our mouths broke apart. His thumb swept over my cheeks to all the places I knew he was thinking about kissing. There was a very poor attempt to hide his smile at the thought of the future, but I appreciated the effort he put in.

“When you’re ready to try to have kids, I’ll be right there with you,” he said.

It was clear that Spencer really wanted it to be a meaningful sentiment, but I was still a little bitter at his failure to laugh at my previous terrible jokes. So when I saw the opportunity, I took it swiftly and with no regrets.

“I sure hope so, or else I don’t think it’ll work,” I muttered through the side of my mouth before turning onto my back.

Spencer’s first carefree giggle of the night was my prize, and I couldn’t have loved it any more. “That’s my little girl,” he cooed, curling up against my side and wrapping a possessive arm over my chest.

Just before my eyes fluttered shut, I saw movement below my face. I kept them open long enough to see his pinky presented to me and a knowing look in his eyes. “Everything will be alright as long as we have each other,” Spencer offered.

And despite our bad history with promises, I had no reasons left to doubt that one.

—————————————————

| Part 21 |

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid series #h2m #spencer reid self insert #angst #smut

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kimvvantae · 4 years

Text

puzzle; 7 (m)

➜ you and jungkook are best friends of a lifetime, even though your personalities are like unmatching pieces of a puzzle. the line between friendship and something more has never been crossed between you two - but that changes after a break up and a drunken night, when you not-so-accidentally cross this line to something much more. what happens when after this accident your non-matching puzzle pieces seem to match in a way you’ve never imagined?

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader

genre: smut, angst, comedy; friends with benefits au; college au

warnings: lots of swearing, a little bit of violence

rating: 18+

word count: 12k

A/N: sweet jesus it’s been so long but it’s finally here! this is the last but one chapter of the series. i genuinely hope you guys enjoy it and i reeeeally want to know your thoughts on it! feel free to leave a comment! if you feel i’m deserving of it lmao

enjoy!

➜ Chapters: check up masterlist in bio!

« playlist »

[bby bear]: where are you???

[bby bear]: you'll get late for class

[you]: i knoww

[you]: the traffic is so heavy today 🤦🤦

[bby bear]: you should have come w me

[you]: i need to go to the bank

[you]: i told you

[bby bear]: i could have taken u theer

[bby bear]: there

[you]: 🥺🥺 next time i'll go w you i promise!!

[you]: but i'm close

[you]: i'll probably lose the first period tho

[bby bear]: 🤦

You shove the phone inside of your pocket when you notice the pedestrian sign is finally green. The crowd on both sides of the avenue rush, everyone on their fast pace as usual. You're even forced to push some people in order to walk by.

Getting to the other side of the street, you stop in front of the building.

Tall as fuck. That cool kind of building with mirrors all over it, where only cool people wearing cool suits walking around holding cups of coffee on one hand and phones on the other hand talking business language kind of people work at.

You certainly don't work here. You definitely don't have any stuff to do here. You surely are not close to the campus and you will lose much more than just the first period.

Seulgi will most definitely punch your face when she finds out where you are and what you're about to do.

You confidently walk inside the building, pushing through its glass doors into the pristine, modern and gigantic main hall. Your black boots contrast with the high heels all the other women wear around you. So does the rest of your outfit. Mini skirts and oversized hoodies are not part of the dress code here. You can almost hear their minds asking, what is this person doing here? The clanck clanck sound of their heels clicking against the marble floor is somehow pleasing, though.

You stop in front of the reception counter. A pretty girl opens a crystal white smile to you. Her hair is tied tightly, her uniform was ironed to perfection. "Good morning. How can I help you?" She chirps happily.

"Good morning. My name is Y/N. I'd like to talk to Irene."

The smile quickly falters.

The girl side eyes her colleague that sits by her side. "Hmm… unfortunately, Miss Irene does not receive visits," she says carefully, still trying to keep her smile. "You must be mistaken."

You can see this girl thinks you're crazy. You quickly realize that people usually don't come at the reception and simply say they want to talk to Irene. But, well, what else would you do? You have to announce your presence somehow.

"Irene is waiting for me. You can call her and ask if you want," you insist.

The receptionist looks pale for a moment.

Hesitantly, she takes the phone and dials a number. You can still see that the girl thinks you're lying; she's probably ready to call the security guards. During her quick talk on the phone, you notice she's not talking to Irene, but with her secretary.

You also see the moment her eyes widen.

She hangs up the phone and stands up, smiling widely again.

"Miss Y/N, Irene is waiting for your arrival," she says, and you notice the slight tone of panic in her voice. "Please, accompany me."

All the other visitors have to show their identifications and take a quick picture on the reception, you notice, but the girl simply ignores this procedure with you, guiding you to the elevator instead. She explains the situation to the security guard and he lets you in. The receptionist still looks slightly panicked. She's probably scared that you'll complain how the receptionist was rude to me directly to Irene, but you won't. Poor girl was just doing her job.

The elevator is big, too. It has a panoramic view of the city as it goes up to one of the highest floors.

You always thought Seulgi was overreacting when she said how bad she sometimes felt for dating Irene, but now you kind of understand her.

You knew Irene was rich. You can recognize a Gucci jacket when you see one, and you've seen Irene wearing plenty of these. But Irene always acted so normal. Sure, she was elegant - and sometimes even arrogant -, but she was still someone very pleasant to be around. She never looked disgusted to be in your tiny but comfy apartment, she never made faces when she'd sometimes wear some of Seulgi's or your clothes when she didn't bring any to spend the night, she never complained to eat the junk food you'd buy for dinner. She was just… chill.

Because of that, you'd forget that she's rich sometimes.

Being in this massive building where everyone acted as if she was a princess made you remember, though.

Irene is beyond rich. Your standard of "rich" used to be Joy: someone that has a cool, big house in a nice part of the city. Irene partially owns a fucking company. She's so chill that you never even bothered to Google the company's name; you did this today to get the address, and it only made you more shocked.

Seulgi must have felt overwhelmed many times in their relationship.

But you're sure she was much happier back then than she is now.

You're used to their drama. They were already dating when you first met Seulgi, and you saw this cycle repeating many times. This time, though, things are not happening as usual. Seulgi is the saddest you’ve ever seen in these almost three years of convivence. Right after they broke up, you thought she was just being dramatic as usual… now you see that it isn’t simple drama. She’s actually sad and has been in this state for months. She doesn’t go out anymore, stopped doing the things she liked… she even got tired of Netflix. That’s probably the most shocking fact of all.

Jungkook said you shouldn’t get involved in this, but you’re tired of seeing your friend being so sad all the time.

Their breakup was messy this time. They didn’t talk properly, didn’t make things clear. Seulgi is too stubborn to make a move (she’s totally lethargic at this point, both physically and spiritually), and Irene also seems too stubborn. Since none of them has the balls to do anything, you finally decided to step up and take action.

(Funny how you thought Jimin was annoying for trying to push you and Jungkook together, but you’re doing the exact same thing right now).

Well, look, you’re not exactly trying to push them into each other. First, you want to know Irene’s feelings and opinions on this situation. If you see that she has really moved on from Seulgi, then you’re ready to give your friend all the comfort and support in the world so she finally moves on. If Irene shows you that she still has feelings for Seulgi… well…

The speed in which she replied to your DM is a strong indicative of that.

The way her eyes glint with undeniable hope when the elevator doors open and she greets you is another indicative.

Irene looks gorgeous as always; she’s like a human version of Snow White. It’s kind of funny to meet her in her office like this. She’s almost like a female and hotter version of Christian Grey.

Her ways of greeting you are polite and… hesitant. You understand why. She probably doesn’t get what you’re doing here in the first place, what you want to talk about. Considering you’re Seulgi’s friend, she must think you’d be mad at her or something.

“Why didn’t you call me, Y/N? My guests never enter from the common hall.” she asked. Oh. Common hall is what that massive hall is called. Almost like peasants area.

“I didn’t know.” you simply say, shrugging.

“I’m sorry that we’re meeting here at my workplace. It feels too profissional, doesn’t it?” she smiles sheepishly.

Well… it does. You don’t even feel comfortable enough to move around her great office, afraid that you’d accidentally break anything (you’re sure that every little piece in this room is much more expensive than you’d be able to afford).

“Come on, let’s go to the cafeteria. I think it’ll be more comfortable to talk there.” she politely suggests, and you just agree with her.

Irene guides you around the halls. This floor is less crowded, since only Important People with Important Tasks work here - and she’s greeted by all of them as she passes by. Their eyes immediately float to you, and they were surely asking themselves why Princess Irene was being followed by this peasant.

The cafeteria in question is as pretty and neatly clean as the rest of the building. Soft music plays from the speakers. Irene chooses a more private table by the windows and asks if you want to have breakfast; you politely decline and both of you end up ordering simple cups of coffee.

An uncomfortable silence lingers in the air.

"I… have to confess that I got surprised when I saw your DM," Irene speaks softly. Her eyes are glued on her cup of coffee. "It's been a while."

"Yeah."

"How are you doing?"

"I'm doing fine." a hundred different scenes pass on your head as she asks this, and you know that you feel anything but fine in the moment, but it's not as if you'll rant about your complicated love life right now. "But I'm sure you don't want to ask about me."

You see a shade of pink flush Irene's cheeks.

"Well… I don't think it would be right to ask about her." Irene says.

"Why not? It's not as if you didn't know I came here to talk about Seulgi."

"But she doesn't want to know about me."

You're left speechless for a few seconds.

It's funny to see the two sides of a breakup. Because of their stubborness, they became completely out of tune with each other. Irene thought that Seulgi didn't want to know about her, when you knew pretty damn well that Seulgi stalked her social media an unhealthy amount of times per day.

You cross your arms and lean your back on the chair. Irene looks hesitant, but you see she's eager to know whatever information you may have. That's not the behavior of someone that hates their ex.

"Can I ask you something?" you say. It's funny how Irene, the owner of pretty much everything around you, looks so cornered by you, her shoulders shrinking visibly. She nods softly. "Why did you guys break up? I mean, what's your side of the story?"

Irene sighs and passes her hand through her dark hair. She looks out the window. She doesn't seem irritated by your ask. She just seems… thoughtful.

It makes you realize that, perhaps, Seulgi's not the only one feeling broken here.

"We're… different." she starts quietly. "I have been trying to keep this relationship working for a long time, you know. Even though we argued a lot and disagreed about many things. But…" Irene sighs again. Sadness shadows her features. "It was getting hard. Seulgi never accepted my help. She knows that money is no problem for me, and I just wanted to help, but why did she act so angry every time I wanted to help you guys?"

Oh.

You don't miss the way she said "help you guys"; she must be talking about the times both of you were struggling to pay the rent. Oh God. You clearly see where their opinions diverge. Irene has always been rich; she saw money as something simple, giving money to others wasn't a big deal. Meanwhile, Seulgi must've felt dependent and it surely hurt her pride. Besides, there were enough people saying that Seulgi was only dating Irene to get money from her…

"And there's more." Irene's voice becomes quieter, more fragile. "My family, they're… very conservative. It was already hard enough for them to accept my sexuality. They never did, to be honest… but they particularly don't like Seulgi, because she's not, hm, on my "social level", as they like to say."

Ooh.

This is more complicated. Seulgi doesn't know what it feels like; her family is very open minded. She told you that, in the beginning, her parents were shocked when she told them that she also liked girls, but they slowly accepted it. Irene, on the other hand…

"They keep saying that my relationship with her will be bad for the company." She confesses. "They said they'd even accept my relationship, as long as we dated in secret."

"What?!" you gasp. "This is disgusting!"

"I know." Irene nods, eyes focused on the mug between her hands. You have the impression that you see tears welling up on her eyes, but she blinks rapidly to dissipate them. "I… I was willing to go against them, because if they don't accept my relationship, then they don't accept who I am. But… I don't know if it's worth doing this if I'm not sure if Seulgi feels the same about me."

Ouch.

You remembered the night when they broke up. Seulgi came to you, crying, and said that she was tired of being with someone that wasn't brave enough to accept her.

Seulgi, my dear… you know nothing.

You can see that to go against her parents isn't as simple as it sounds. To Irene, going against her family involves reputation, money, and the company itself. It's definitely a big deal. Seulgi didn't understand how serious it is.

And Irene is willing to take this big step for her.

It's your time to sigh.

"Irene." you lean closer, staring at her seriously. "Do you still love Seulgi?"

She blinks at your direct question. Irene looks down, gulps… and nods.

"I do love her."

You can't hear any hint of doubt on her voice.

That's what you wanted to hear.

"She's not okay." You blurt out the truth. Irene widens her eyes softly and looks at you. You see guilt on her eyes as she hears this. "I came here because I'm worried about her. She doesn't act like herself anymore. She even got tired of Netflix."

Irene widens her eyes in shock. "She stopped watching Netflix?!"

"Yes." You nod seriously. "And she still loves you, too."

Irene freezes when you say this.

Now, you're sure of the tears welling up on her eyes.

"I…" she stutters, unable to form a coherent sentence. "A-Are you sure?"

You can't help but giggle at her; Irene looks shy, almost like a teenager - scared and excited to know that her crush likes her back. You feel your own heart warming up at the sight.

"Of course I'm sure."

A smile wants to make its way up to her lips. "B-But what do I do? I can't just walk up to her like this. I don't want to start another fight…"

"Irene, believe me. Seulgi will listen to anything you have to say, as long as you're being honest. Tell her about the situation with your family. Prove to her that you're willing to stand for her. I mean, if you're still willing to…"

"I am!" Irene exclaims in a heartbeat. "I am. As long as she's with me, I feel like I can do anything."

You feel yourself smiling. Irene's eyes are shining like diamonds.

"But you also have to try to understand her." You say seriously. "Seulgi is not wrong for wanting to be independent. She's finishing her studies, she wants to build a career for herself, and she wants her own money. I know you're trying to help, but you have to respect her. Also, I'm sure she doesn't want to be a burden for you."

Irene nods vehemently. "Okay. You're right. I get it."

She doesn't hold her smile back anymore as a tear rolls down her cheek. She looks so immensely happy… it's a delightful sight. And you can't help but feel happy too, because right now, more than ever, you see that Seulgi found something rare and precious in this world.

True love.

And this fact itself is enough to make you feel that coming here was worth it - even though Seulgi might want to kill you afterwards.

"But hey, Irene," you call her seriously again. "I'm doing all this because both of you stupid asses couldn't, but if you make Seulgi cry again, I will kill you. I know where you work now."

Irene laughs at your very serious threat. She leans forward and holds both of your hands. "Y/N, thank you so much for telling me all this. I will forever be grateful. If you need anything- and I mean anything- I will help you, okay? Anything!"

"Alright, alright," you say, shrugging, the slight thought that a millionaire owns you a favor sounding nice. "Now, you better go talk to Seulgi. I can't stand her walking around the living room looking like a zombie anymore." Irene laughs softly. "And… I said I wasn't hungry, but now I kind of want that waffle."

Seulgi looks like a very grumpy zombie when you meet her in the corridor.

"Where the hell were you?!" Seulgi exclaims. "It's noon!"

"Yeah, I know." you shrug. "The bank was pretty crowded."

Seulgi narrows her eyes. Her hair looks messy even though it's tied up and she has bags underneath her eyes. She's wearing the top of her old orange pajamas. It has an old kitchen oil stain over the chest. Seulgi from months ago would rarely go out looking like this.

"What the hell did you need to do there anyway? I didn't even know people still go to banks." She whines. "I was getting worried, you know?"

You walk down the corridor with your hands behind your back. You're glad Seulgi is too grumpy to notice the sly smirk on your lips, the way you kind of bounce by her side in expectation.

"Always so thoughtful, Seul. You're so cute, did you know that?"

She side eyes you, the frown deepening. "Why are you complimenting me?"

"What's the problem with complimenting you?"

"Whenever you compliment me it means either you want something or you did something that you know will piss me off."

Sometimes you forget how well Seulgi knows you.

"Jesus, you're too stressed, girl. I'll pay you lunch, okay? Let's eat at that Italian restaurant you like."

"When you offer yourself to pay for stuff it also means that-"

Seulgi stops in her tracks, completely frozen.

"Irene?"

You step back silently and hold your breath.

This is the moment that might end your friendship with Seulgi if it goes bad.

Irene seems to be holding her breath as well, her eyes round - scared, hesitant, hopeful.

And they stand there, looking at each other. As if time has slowed down. As if there was no one else besides them in the busy corridor.

If this was a drama, you imagined that the romantic soundtrack would kick in now.

"Hi, Seulgi." Irene says softly. "It's… it's been a while."

It seems that Seulgi's brain is struggling to function. "What… what are you doing here?" the fact that she does not sound defensive or aggressive but genuinely surprised and confused relieves your chest.

"I came here to talk." Irene says. "Just… just talk. But if you want me to go…"

"No." Seulgi interrupts her embarrassingly too fast. "It's alright. We… we can talk. Just talk."

Their eyes are gleaming and the ghost of smiles appear on their lips.

Your chest fills with triumph as you silently walk back. Not that either of them would even notice you anyway.

You're too far to hear what they're saying now, their soft voices drowning in the middle of the many more people walking around the corridor, but you still kind of hide inside an empty classroom, half of your body peeking outside of the door to watch them. They're talking and smiling timidly. You feel tempted to take some photos, but it's better not to. You kind of feel like an intruder watching them, even if you're this far-

"What are you doing?"

You almost feel your spirit jumping out of your body when the male voice asks dangerously close to your ear, turning around in a jump to see the source.

Now you don't know if your heart is beating so ridiculously fast because of the scare of because of the view in front of you.

Jungkook looks down at you with a puzzled expression, his hands behind his back, his body slightly leaning on your direction. He's wearing a modern grey hanbok over a black t-shirt and slippers. His backpack hangs from one shoulder. His hair is half tied up in a small bun, curly bangs falling over his eyes. This is precisely what makes your heart almost fail. You've been wondering how he would look like with his hair tied up ever since he decided to let it grow…

He's got no business looking this good. No. Fucking. Business.

But you're a master of pretending you're unbothered, so you just point ahead at their direction with an excited smile. Jungkook's eyes look up to where you're pointing and his eyes widen.

"Oh!" Almost instantly, he kind of hides behind you as well. It's hard to ignore the warmth of his body on your back, even though he isn't close enough to touch you. "Did they make up? Are they dating again?"

"I hope they will." it's weird how you're both speaking so low, as if they could possibly hear you over the loud chatter.

"What if they start fighting?"

"Don't even say that! I put my friendship with Seulgi at risk to get these two to talk!"

You turn your head in time to see Jungkook's eyes frowning as he realizes what's going on.

"It was you?"

"Of course it was."

He crosses his arms over his broad chest and shakes his head slowly in disapproval. "You said you wouldn't get involved!"

"I never said I wasn't going to get involved." you bat your lashes prettily at him, trying to give your best innocent look (unsuccessfully).

"You damn gremlin."

You whack his chest. "Aw, come on! Just look at them and tell me it isn't working!"

Both of you look ahead again to see them smiling sweetly at each other as they talk. You bounce and giggle excitedly like a little kid. "Look, look! She's blushing!"

Jungkook tilts his head to the side. "But what about Jennie?"

"Oh, Irene and Jennie went out on dates, but it didn't work out in the end. They're just friends." you repeat the exact same words Irene told you earlier.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, if she cheats on Seulgi, I'll kill her."

You watch as they slowly start to walk away side by side, heading towards the exit.

You jump out of your "hideout" and open your arms in triumph. "I did great this time, didn't I?!"

Jungkook chuckles and leans on the doorway, arms crossed. "Whatever you say."

You're an expert at acting unbothered, but right now it's really hard to do so when he looks at you this way.

He has a pretty lazy smile on his lips. It makes you feel hot inside and your stomach jumps and your heart races. His gaze is intense… but not in the way you're used to. That look isn't his I want to fuck kind of look, it's… it's… shit, you don't know what that means, but it's pretty intense. Why is he looking at you like that?

You just hope he doesn't notice how your legs are wobbly.

It's the first time you see him in person since two days ago, when he slept at your house. Two days after you had sex even though you said you wouldn't. You didn't talk properly about what happened there. To be honest, your brain still didn't process that well.

Things are awkward between you two - but this time it's a different kind of awkward. A type of awkward that made your cheeks burn while you cleaned yourself and got dressed. A type of awkward that made you feel all fuzzy and warm inside, that made a silly smile grow on your lips every time your eyes crossed his from the other side of the living room, an awkwardness that forced you both to look away and try to pretend your cheeks weren't aching from the damn smile that didn't want to go away. A type of awkward that didn't let you talk about what happened - as if none of you wanted to talk about it, to just keep it engraved in your minds forever, as if talking about it would take all the magic of the moment away.

You don't hate this type of awkward.

It's not uncomfortable. Not like what has been happening for the past months. Yet, you feel that you need to talk about it - to sort things out clearly and straightforwardly this time… because if the way he's looking at you means anything, then maybe… just maybe…

"I've got good news." Jungkook says suddenly (because he noticed that you've been staring at each other for far too long to not be embarrassing anymore).

"What?" you fiddle with your own fingers, trying to ease the tension.

"Remember that director I told you about? Mr. Choi?" You nod. "He invited me to work with him."

Your jaw drops, your eyes widen. "What? Are you serious?!"

Jungkook nods excitedly. "Yeah. Well, I'll be like the assistant of the assistant, to be honest, but… he invited me to work with him on his next project. I'll gain some real experience, at least…"

"Are you kidding? This is great, Kook! What the fuck!"

You jump over to hug him, your arms dropping around his shoulders, and Jungkook quickly hugs you back. His low excited giggle right next to your ear makes goosebumps crawl on your skin.

"I'm so fucking proud of you!" And you couldn't be more honest. Jungkook has always been so hardworking; he deserves all the success and recognition in the world. You always thought so.

"Thank you," his voice is still low and excited.

He caresses your back. It makes yet more goosebumps crawl on your skin.

Oh, God. He still smells like baby powder. He always does. You feel tempted to sniff the crook of his neck, just to take a little bit more of his scent, but you hold yourself back. It's not like hugging Jungkook is something new to you. Fuck, after everything you've done, hugging should feel like nothing. But for some reason… hugging him right now feels like a lot.

Feels awkward.

So awkward that you have to remind yourself that you're in the middle of a corridor full of people, and that this hug is taking way too long, so you step back before your brain completely malfunctions.

"A-And," you clear your throat and put a strand of hair behind your ear, furiously avoiding his gaze. You never thought that Jungkook would make you feel shy like this. Shy and Y/N shouldn’t make sense in the same sentence. "When is this next project?"

"In two days. I think he decided to put me on the crew last minute."

"This means that he really trusts you."

Jungkook smiles sheepishly and massages the back of his neck. "I just hope I won't mess things up."

"You'll do great, Kook. You always do."

He lifts his gaze to you again.

That same look again.

You feel that everything is blurred except him again. No one else is in that corridor. No loud chatter. Just him and his starry eyes, looking back at you, eyes that smile as much as his lips.

God.

You need to sort things out.

You can't just stare at him with heart eyes like this anymore. You need to talk about what happened. This conversation feels awkward because you're both trying to act normal, pretending that there isn't a fucking elephant in the room - an elephant that makes you think of a mattress in the middle of your living room, of sunrays touching his exposed skin, of old pajamas being thrown around and sweat and soft kisses and salty tears dripping down your temples.

You need to know if he also felt that that morning was different. You need to know if he feels the same. Even if he doesn't - even if his heart lays with Yeri or Joy or whoever it might be - you need to know, and you don't care about what the outcome might be. You just can't torture yourself like this anymore.

So you inhale and gulp.

"Jungkook, I was thinking… are you busy after classes?" you ask timidly.

He presses his lips together. "Actually, I am. The boys and I are planning to celebrate the end of the semester tonight."

Mission abort! Mission abort!!

"Why?"

"Oh- it's nothing. I was just…" you can't think of any excuse. "It's not that important anyway. Forget it."

Jungkook looks at you with suspicion. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah! I'm sure. Nevermind."

He still stares at you for a while, frowning.

"You wanna come with us?"

"No!" you shake your hands dismissively. You're not having this super important conversation surrounded by all of his friends. "I'm just gonna bother you guys. It's fine, Jungkook. Enjoy your night."

Jungkook shrugs. He takes his phone from his back pocket for a moment. "Well, I gotta go. I promised I'd pay Jimin lunch."

"Alright."

You start to walk in opposite directions.

“But we can meet tomorrow, right?” You turn around way too fast when you hear Jungkook say, a few steps away from you. He looks hesitant, an awkward little smile on his lips. “I have some stuff to do, but we can see each other at night. After I finish preparing my stuff. We could meet, right?” He visibly starts to look more and more awkward as he speaks. As if his confidence started to vanish. It’s kind of adorable. “You could come to my place. O-Or I could go to yours, I don’t care- I mean, can I?”

Your heart is bouncing crazily inside of you. You don’t notice how you’re mirroring his awkward smile. “Of course, Kook. When did you ever need permission to go to my apartment?”

Jungkook frowns as if he just realized how stupid his ask was. “Guess you’re right. Or maybe we could go out somewhere, right? It’s been a while since we went out, the two of us.”

He’s right. All you’ve been doing for the past months is meet to have sex. You don’t even remember the last time you two did something that didn’t involve getting naked.

“Sure, let’s go out.”

You stare at each other for a few more awkward moments (awkward is a word you’ve been thinking a lot about lately). See, that’s not how things would go between you two back then. Neither of you ever needed to ask previously to go out. You’d just usually drag Jungkook out of his house by force when you deemed he hasn’t been taking enough sunlight (fucking Overwatch). Or Jungkook would call you at 3am because he was bored of playing Overwatch and just realized there was only expired milk and an empty box of cereal in the cabinets because the last time he and Jimin bought food was 2 weeks ago and he’d be like “hey, let’s go to Walmart” and you’d be like “what the fuck Jungkook it’s 3am” and he’d be like “but Jimin’s not home I need help” and you’d be like “fuck you” but twenty minutes later you’d both be on your pajamas pushing a cart inside of an empty Walmart as you barely register Jungkook ranting about how he thinks he’s lactose intolerant because he had diarrhea the last time he ate yogurt.

That’s kind of how things used to go back then.

At the same time you desperately want your relationship to go back to normal, you don’t really hate the way you’re feeling right now.

“Right, I gotta go.” Jungkook snaps out of it faster than you and nods. “I’ll text you later.”

“Okay.”

Again, you turn around and start to walk in opposite directions. Slowly. Hesitantly. Because both of you know you don't want to go. Both of you know you still have a lot to talk about.

But maybe later.

[bby bear]: i kinda want to kill you rn but

[bby bear]: thank u so fcking much

[bby bear]: ily

[bby bear]: bitch

You're smiling so hard that your cheeks might probably start to ache. If Seulgi texted you this, it means things went really well with Irene.

The chatter in the dining hall is nothing but background noise on your ears as you scroll down your boring Instagram feed, the plate just half eaten in front of you. You’re not really hungry. Maybe the stress of studying for finals messed your stomach. The hell’s finally over, at least, and you’re sure that your grades won’t be that bad (Seulgi didn’t want to do anything, but you at least convinced her to study with you. That’s the only thing that got her out of her bedroom. Her zombie state was kinda the reason why you studied so hard).

Some text notifications pop on your screen, but you just swipe them away since none of them are from the person you’re waiting for. All of your friends are planning to go out tonight and some of them are asking if you want to go. No, you don’t. Honestly, you’ve not been feeling yourself these days. Past you would always be up to a party. Past you wouldn’t be having lunch alone in the dining hall - honestly though, you don’t even mind being by yourself. Nothing would make you feel emptier right now than being surrounded by random people. Just one person matters at the moment-

“Hi.”

You almost drop the phone inside the plate when you look up to see who just sat in front of you.

Joy.

Your throat feels suddenly bitter. You have to gulp.

“Jesus, I didn’t even notice you come,” you inhale and chuckle. “How you doing, Joy?”

Joy smiles. “I’m fine.”

She’s lying.

There’s something in the way she looks at you and in the way her smile looks plastic-fake that makes you shiver.

It makes you think that she didn’t even want to be here.

Well, you don’t know about her, but you certainly feel uncomfortable right now. You can’t lie that you’ve been feeling kind of guilty these days because you’ve been fucking the guy she likes in secret, but a big fat load of guilt hit you especially after two days ago. Joy went on a date with Jungkook and barely a few hours later you had him inside of you. And, of course, you had rough sex with him inside of her bathroom. All the while you knew Joy liked him and encouraged her to be with him-

Wow, it’s getting hard to look at her right now.

You really are a bitch. In the beginning you didn’t feel bad because you stupidly assumed there weren’t feelings involved. It was just friends with benefits, right? You even agreed that you could have sex with other people. If Jungkook started dating Joy, of course you’d stop doing it. Also, there was nothing between you two. You didn’t even feel jealousy.

Things changed, though, and at some point you genuinely started to hate this poor girl for breathing around Jungkook. And now you feel guilty because you realized that you like the guy that she told you she had a crush on months ago.

I took a shower this morning, so why do I feel so dirty right now?

A shiver runs down your spine.

The way she’s looking at you… what if she knows-?

“I’m throwing a party tonight,” she says suddenly. “To celebrate the end of the semester. You wanna come?”

You’ve been fucking the guy she likes for months and there she is, being nice and inviting you to her party. You really are a fake ass bitch-

“O-Oh.” You rub the back of your neck. “I, uhm… thanks, Joy, but I’m not feeling very well today. I just feel like sleeping, to be honest.” You chuckle sheepishly again.

Joy nods. “Alright.”

She doesn’t insist. It looks like she doesn’t even care. As if she’s just being polite.

In fact, it kind of looks that she’s relieved that you said no-

“So, how was your date with Taehyung?” She changes the topic quickly. “We didn’t even talk about it.”

Right. She’s talking about the person you don’t even want to think about because there’s only so much guilt one person can feel at once.

“It was fun.” You say. “We had a lot of fun.”

It sounds stupid, the way you can’t even articulate your date with him. You’re not lying - you had fun… kind of.

“Are you dating him now?”

Okay, this is getting strange. Not the question, but the way she asked. You’re 100% sure she’s annoyed by something, and honestly looks uninterested in your current state with Taehyung right now, so why is she asking anyway?

“No, we’re not.” You admit.

Joy stares at you in silence as if she’s waiting for you to say something more, but you say nothing else. Joy then nods. This is getting very uncomfortable.

You feel that she’s about to leave, so you pick up the courage to speak again. She touched this topic anyway.

You know it’s wrong to ask. You shouldn’t. But you’re so curious that you can’t help.

“A-And, uhm… what about you and Jungkook? How was your date?” you try so hard to pretend you’re not dying curious to know.

Joy stares at you in silence again. She isn’t smiling.

“He didn’t tell you?”

What? Is there something to tell?!

“No. Jungkook’s kinda private about this type of thing,” you’re lying, of course, because even if Jungkook didn’t want to, you’d usually annoy him with questions about his dates so hard that he’d end up telling everything that happened.

Joy looks away and quirks one eyebrow. “Oh. I assumed he would have since you guys are so close.”

The way she says so close bothers you.

It’s her turn to rub the back of her neck, her eyes glued on the table - only she doesn’t look nervous. Yeah, she’s annoyed. Joy takes so long to talk that you’re about to repeat your question, but she finally speaks:

“We also had fun. Jungkook really is a sweet guy, right? He did nothing wrong. He’s so polite that it ended up annoying me, honestly. More polite than I would have wanted him to be…” Hah, so they didn’t fuck! Great! “Well, he dropped me home and I invited him to spend the night and all, but… He was very polite. He apologized a lot and said that he couldn’t stay…”

Joy licks her lips. Why the dramatic pause? Say it already, come on!

“He’s also a very honest guy, right?” She chuckled, but she clearly didn’t think it was funny. “He said that he thought I was an amazing person, but things wouldn’t go further than this because…”

For the first time, Joy lifts her gaze and looks at you.

“Because he already had feelings for someone else.”

You’re honestly not breathing anymore.

Joy is watching you very carefully. You’re as stiff as a board.

“Not a fun way to finish a date, right?” She says and chuckles, again, it’s clear she isn’t happy at all. “Anyways, I have to go now. Bye.”

She gets up and walks away before you can even say anything, as if this conversation was being unbearable for her.

Meanwhile, you just sit there. Frozen. Breathless.

He said things wouldn’t go further than this.

Your throat feels very dry out of sudden. Very, very dry and coarse, as if you’ve eaten sand.

Because…

You take the water bottle from over the table and drink it in one big, big gulp, until the bottle is empty and your shaking fingers crushed the fragile pet bottle.

He already had feelings for someone else.

You get up and take the tray so fast that you almost drop everything.

Your movements are fast as you walk out of the busy dining hall, your heart beating loudly on your ribcage, your breathing irregular and your mind working at 200 km/h.

He already had feelings for someone else.

He told Joy this. He dropped her home and told her the truth. He apologized. He… he said he already had feelings for someone else. Jesus Christ. Your heart is beating so fast it feels like it’s going to stop anytime soon.

He- He-

He might be talking about Yeri, a little, hesitant voice inside your mind whispers. Well… sure. You’ve been suspecting it for a good while. But… after Jungkook dropped Joy home and said this he-

He went to your apartment.

He went to you.

You feel the need to stop walking and lean on the corridor’s wall. The world around you is blurred.

What is this feeling bubbling up in your chest? A feeling so strong that it’s almost spilling over? This thing that makes you open the widest smile you ever opened and makes you want to jump around the corridor like crazy?

He came to me. He came to me. He came to me. He came to me.

He came to me!

But-

But there’s still the Yeri possibility.

You need to know the truth. To hear him say it, and you can’t wait another day - not anymore.

You take your phone from your bag and type with shaking fingers.

[you]: hey

[you]: can we meet today?

[you]: i really need to talk to you

Jeon Jungkook is a simp.

He doesn’t like this word. He thinks it’s annoying how people would call a guy a simp just because he’s treating a girl with minimal decency.

But, like. He’s a simp. He knows he is. He took a long time to admit this, but lately his pride has been already so crushed and stepped on by a particular pair of feet that he can’t even bring himself to feel anything anymore.

Actually, no. He has been feeling like shit for a long time. It’s just the alcohol anesthetizing him right now.

That’s just his second bottle of beer and he already feels kind of dizzy. It’s been a while since he last drank alcohol, that’s probably why his resistance feels weak. He makes a mental reminder to not drink too much. Jungkook knows that he gets really talkative when he’s drunk and he always ends up saying stuff he shouldn’t - and today especially he can’t end up saying stuff he shouldn’t with that guy around.

If he knew Taehyung would be here too, Jungkook wouldn’t have come. Yes, he knows he’s being childish. He knows he’s angry at someone that didn’t do anything wrong, he knows that jealousy is bad, he knows that technically he is wrong because he’s been dicking down the girl that he knew his friend liked. He knows all that, alright?!

Jungkook throws his head back and sighs, passing his hand through his hair. A chilling night breeze touches his cheeks; since the inside of the bar was already full and they were too many, everyone decided to sit on the outside part of the bar. Jungkook hasn’t been paying attention to anything anyone around him was saying and neither was he interested. He thought that coming here would make him forget about the things that have been troubling him, but in the end he’s just thinking more about them.

I could excuse myself and go home. He thought. I have a lot of things to do anyway. I wouldn’t be lying.

He feels a hand rest on his shoulder and looks at Jimin, sitting on a chair by his side. The look on Jimin’s face already says everything. Jungkook sometimes thinks that Jimin has telepathic superpowers; how does he always know what’s going on before anyone even says anything?

“You alright?” Jimin asks in a low tone, careful not to call anyone’s attention. The younger one nods.

“Yeah.”

“You’re lying.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you drunk?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook reassures.

Taehyung laughs loudly from across the table and both of them end up looking at him. Jimin looks back at Jungkook.

Jimin sighs. “You know you can go home if you want to.”

“Yeah.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Just… don’t do anything stupid.”

Jungkook looks at Jimin and sips a bit more of the beer slowly.

“Yeah.”

Jimin smacks his shoulder and goes back to his previous conversation with Hoseok.

How Jimin always seems to know what’s going on… it annoys Jungkook a lot. He wasn’t supposed to know anything. It’s not like Jungkook told him about his feelings, Jimin just… realized. They were doing grocery shopping one day and Jungkook mentioned how last time he went to Walmart you told him that the diarrhea he had wasn’t because he was lactose intolerant but because the yogurt was expired and then Jimin turned around and simply said:

“You like her, right?”

And Jungkook gasped.

Jimin smirked knowingly and just kept pushing the cart. He said nothing else - but it was as if Jungkook had just confessed his deepest feelings right there.

This happened a little bit after Jungkook and Yeri broke up and kind of made him feel offended. How could Jimin say he liked you? He hadn’t even gotten over Yeri, Jimin knew very well. However, it seems that Jimin is not only a telepath, he can also see the future, because he couldn’t be more right.

If Jungkook’s being honest with himself, some months ago he wasn’t really really sure about what he felt about you. As the “Yeri” scar started to heal he got more aware of his own feelings and actions towards you, but it was hard to sort things out because he was always in denial. That desire to hold you close and hug you and take care of you and not let anyone hurt you anymore? Well, that was just his protective side. You have always been one of his dearest people. Jungkook also knew that he had a little possessive side. He was sure that this feeling would eventually vanish.

Maybe he was also frightened because he knew it wasn’t reciprocal. You never even looked at him in a way that might mean you felt something else for him. He wasn’t going to confess something he wasn’t sure of to someone that definitely didn’t feel anything for him and destroy a life-long friendship.

But oh boy, how things have changed.

They changed the moment you hopped on his lap that night inside his car. Jesus, that first week was hell for Jungkook. He was trying so, so hard to forget the messy drunken memories of his night with you - especially because, the moment he woke up and saw the pure face of terror on your face when you realized what just happened, he thought of how much you regretted that and all of his hopes died right there - the hopes that maybe, just maybe, you could be more than friends.

Yet, he got to taste you again. Two times were all it took to get him addicted.

He couldn’t stop anymore - and it hurt him much more than he would like to admit. He felt that he was being used, even though he let you do it (and he enjoyed it every time, not gonna lie). He felt worthless, he felt angry at himself because he couldn’t stop and because you were so, so fucking stupid, so fucking blind, he felt sad because he watched as your friendship started to slowly die down, and now he feels jealous and guilty because he’s been seeing how Taehyung likes you - how Taehyung even asked him advice to ask you out - and he didn’t stop fucking you anyway.

That day at Joy’s house? It was ridiculous. Jungkook still doesn’t understand what the fuck happened to him, why he felt so angry. Perhaps he was finally getting tired of how dumb you are, how you can’t see what’s right in front of your face.

Just thinking about you hurts now. And Jungkook thinks about you a lot. There he is, surrounded by his friends, where he should be talking and having fun, but he’s too busy thinking about you. In two days he’ll start working for Mr. Choi, his first real job. He should be thinking about it. Not about you.

He can’t stop thinking about your flustered face.

You don’t look flustered that often. Especially not around him.

He thinks this is very intriguing.

What hurt him the most in all this - the thing that made him feel like a piece of shit more than anything - is that he knows you too damn well and he knew that it was never special to you. To you it was just sex, it was just fun; whenever your lips touched you never felt like you were being swept off your feet like he did, whenever you touched him you didn’t feel like just then, in that moment, everything was right - as if the Universe was only created for that specific moment to happen, as if the Universe was expectantly waiting for the moment his fingers ran on your skin freely since the very beginning.

He never felt like this with anyone else. No other pussy has ever made him feel this poetic.

The fact that Jungkook knew you didn’t feel the same was exactly why he couldn’t stop; this would be the closest he’d ever be from you in that sense - and honestly, after he tasted you, he didn’t want to go back to stage one. You were like a drug. You brought him comfort, you brought him bliss. Having sex with you became somehow of a escapist method. But, just like every drug, you started to make him feel sick… so sick that he couldn’t stand to be around you when you weren’t fucking.

He drifted away.

God, he even stupidly tried to move on, but Joy was a foolish try. Jungkook felt bad for using her like this - even though he never even kissed her, he felt that he was fooling her anyway. Going on that date with Joy made everything worse, because he was with that gorgeous, intelligent and lovely girl, but he couldn’t feel anything but fucking empty.

He also realized that you couldn’t be his drug anymore. You deserved much more than that. That’s why he drove all the way to your apartment like a magnet. He preferred to go back to stage one if necessary, if it meant that he could be around you without feeling like a worthless piece of shit anymore.

Of course - things didn’t work out that way.

But that morning- it was different.

Jungkook has to sip more of his beer just thinking about it.

It was different.

It was… quiet, very quiet. Much more quieter than he was used to. And much closer than he ever remembered.

All the times he had sex with you - his body was being pleased, but his soul felt hurt. This time, though, he felt that his whole self was being healed. You didn’t feel like a drug. You felt like a cure.

As if you were connected in somehow of a deeper way.

As if this time, it wasn’t one-sided on his part.

Jungkook can’t stop thinking about it. His pessimistic side tried to convince him that he was being delusional or dramatic (he has this tendency to overthink anyways) and maybe he was, but, again… you don’t usually act flustered, especially not around him. And you’ve been looking flustered around him for quite some now, even before that morning. Sure, your friendship became uncomfortable at some point and he realized that none of you knew how to act around each other anymore, but still…

What about that time you saw a picture of Yeri on his computer?

You looked very, very awkward.

Or how you sometimes seemed bothered when Joy was around. You teased him a lot at that pool party. Jungkook knew you could get kinda kinky sometimes (he knew you liked the thrill of possibly being caught), but that felt like too much even for you.

His pessimistic side once again tried to convince him that he was seeing things. You wouldn’t be acting jealous. You were never jealous of him with any girl. Never. You even encouraged him to be with Joy, right?

What if… what if maybe, just maybe…?

Stop getting your hopes too high, his pessimistic side scolded. You look stupid.

I’ve been looking stupid for a goddamn long time, Jungkook thinks back. His pessimistic side looks back at him with disdain.

Jungkook frowns and looks at the bottle of beer on his hand. This is just regular beer, right? He surely isn’t so drunk that he’s already arguing with himself.

I should probably go home.

Or…

He could go to your home.

You wanted to talk to him earlier today. You looked very hesitant - again, very uncharacteristic of you. It felt like it was something important. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind if he knocked on your door unannounced - wait, you never cared. At least when your relationship didn’t involve rough sex. I mean- you didn’t mind not even when you started fucking, to be honest.

Why do I feel so nervous? I’ve never felt nervous over such a stupid thing. I mean, she’s the same dumbass I’ve known my whole life.

You’re probably home doing nothing. That’s also very uncharacteristic of you. Normal you would be at some club or party right now, celebrating the end of the semester. Normal you would probably have tried to drag him along. Or you’d meet some time during the night when you’re both too drunk to be standing and then you’d end up at 5am at the usual Burger King because you’re both hungry, and the Burger King employees would be staring at you both with anger and disgust because you’re both laughing like stupid and talking too loud and they’ve been up all night and can’t stand two drunk costumers this early in the morning.

It sounds nice.

Jungkook remembers that Seulgi and Irene made up, which means that Seulgi most definitely isn’t home.

Which means you positively are home alone.

Home alone, huh.

Jungkook sips more beer.

This sounds nicer.

But, hey, it’s not like he’s being dirty minded (well, at least not entirely). He really wants to know what you wanted to talk about - and suddenly, he doesn’t feel like waiting until tomorrow. Maybe it’s the alcohol (maybe he really shouldn’t finish this beer), but he wants to see your face a lot right now. Your flustered face. And he kinda feels like holding your face with both hands and kissing you very slowly. And he kinda feels like going very very deep inside of-

You know what? Fuck it.

Jungkook puts the bottle over the table and is ready to get up. His excuse is ready. Nobody’s gonna think it’s strange anyway - Jungkook has actual stuff to do.

But he doesn’t have the chance to move when he notices a person approaching the tables where he’s sat.

He freezes.

It’s you.

You’re looking down at your phone before you lift your head and see the group of familiar faces a few meters away from you. You’re alone.

Jungkook’s heart starts to beat furiously inside his chest. A smile unconsciously increases on his lips. What are you doing here? He didn’t know you’d come. He’s also sure that he didn’t tell you which bar he would come to earlier today. Adrenaline rushes through his veins as a hundred ideas run on his mind in those few seconds; did you feel the need to see him as much as he wanted to see you? Did you have the same idea as him? Were you so eager to see him that you couldn’t wait until tomorrow-?

Your eyes finally cross his.

That’s when Jungkook notices something isn’t right.

You look surprised, then a second later you frown, then you slowly widen your eyes.

He knows you too damn well.

You didn’t know he’d be there, too. You’re surprised to see him. And it looks… it looks like you didn’t want to see Jungkook there.

“Y/N!”

A loud, excited, familiar male voice bursts out.

Jungkook watches frozen in place as Taehyung gets up in a swift movement, holds your face with both hands and kisses you.

Taehyung’s lips are warm against yours. They taste like toothpaste and beer.

The kiss is very brief. Taehyung breaks it alway soon, but still holds your face with his hands. He’s smiling widely.

“You're late, missy!" He says happily.

You're frozen in place.

This isn't happening.

"I-" you stutter. It seems that your brain went into complete malfunction. "I, uhm…"

Your eyes travel back to Jungkook.

He's just watching. Not moving a muscle. No.

No no no no no no.

This can't be happening.

Jungkook wasn't supposed to be here. You thought- you thought he was going to celebrate with his classmates, you didn't expect Taehyung would be here too. No, no. Just no.

You see the exact moment his features get as hard as stone. The way he clenches his jaw tight.

You can't breathe.

When you texted Taehyung earlier, you didn’t really like that he told you to meet him at a bar. A bar wasn’t the right place to have this type of conversation - you also felt bad that you’d probably ruin his end-of-semester celebrations - but you agreed anyway because you desperately needed to make things clear with Taehyung before you had that talk with Jungkook. You decided to do this because Jungkook was honest and fair with Joy; you needed to do the same. You left the worst of the impressions when you let Taehyung kiss you that day. You needed to tell him the truth, or else he’d just suffer more - and you couldn’t be a bitch enough to just dump him by text.

But fuck - you didn’t expect Taehyung would fucking kiss you in front of everyone the moment he saw you!

With the corner of your eye, you see Jimin looking from you to Taehyung to Jungkook very fast, his face going pale as he realizes what just happened. No one else notices that something’s wrong.

Jungkook breaks eye contact with you and gets up from his chair. Jimin looks at him, helpless. You know that expression. He’s angry and- and-

Hurt.

You step away from Taehyung, trying to get control over your body again. It feels like pure frost has filled your veins. “T-Taehyung, I…” Your mouth is very dry again. You clear your throat. “C-Can we talk somewhere else?”

You suddenly hate how oblivious Taehyung is and how touchy he is because it’s clear that he’s moving his arm to hold your hand. What the fuck?! We just kissed once, it’s not like we’re dating!

“Sure. Do you wanna get inside? Wanna get a drink?” He asks with the same happy smile.

You’re trying to think of something to say, but again, someone else behind him gets your attention.

“You’re going this early, Jungkook?” Hoseok whines, oblivious to the whole situation. Jungkook is putting his backpack over his shoulder. He’s looking down, jaw still very tight. Not a word said - yet you could see exactly how hurt he was.

“Yeah. I have a lot to do.” He simply says.

“Aw, come on, man!” Taehyung encourages. “You can stay a little longer!”

If Taehyung was a little less oblivious, he would have noticed the death glare sent in his direction.

“I can’t.”

A shiver crawls over your entire body as the death glare is now directed to you.

He’s so, so hurt.

Jungkook’s walking away.

Stop! You want to scream. You got it all wrong! Don’t go!

But you don’t have the chance to stop him, and Jungkook doesn’t have the chance to walk away, and Taehyung doesn’t have the chance to understand what’s going on.

Everyone turns their heads when they hear a boisterous, scandalous laughter, and the sound of someone clapping their hands dramatically.

Now you’re sure that your veins are frosted. You shiver again - yet this time, it’s pure fear.

It’s Mike.

A very, very drunk Mike.

He looks the worst you’ve ever seen him; his clothes are a mess, his hair has grown a lot, and he hasn’t been shaving lately. His eyes are widened, red and maniac. He stumbles as he walks closer, everyone on the table - and the people on the tables around - stopping to look as he still claps ironically.

“Oh, look at what we have here!” he’s loud. Very loud. “So interesting!”

You notice that Jungkook isn’t walking away anymore - in fact, he comes back a few steps, standing closer to you. His body language has changed. Jimin has also gotten up; it seems that Taehyung might be starting to understand what’s going on.

“This is the funniest shit I’ve seen in a looooong time,” Mike continues. God, he’s drooling. This isn’t happening. That’s not possible.

You watch as some guys come closer to Mike and recognize them as his friends. One of them holds Mike’s arm. “Come on, man. Don’t start a scene. It’s not worth it.” He says in a rather low voice, but you can still hear it.

Mike gets off his grip aggressively. “What do you mean? Of course it’s worth it!” Mike looks at you and grins like a madman. You feel another shiver run down your spine. “Hello, Y/N! It’s been a long time! How have you been?!”

“Your friend’s right.” Jungkook speaks up. “Get out of here.”

“Ooooooh,” Mike shakes his hands as if pretending to be scared. “Look who’s here, too! It’s the bestie! Jeon Jungkook, the best friend your girlfriend could ever have!”

Pretty much everyone on the outside part of the bar is paying attention to what’s going on. They whisper between themselves, looking at Mike, you and Jungkook. You feel so embarrassed that you might as well faint. You feel that you should have said something already, but your brain is still malfunctioning.

“Jeon Jungkook, the friend that will want to fuck your girl so bad, but he won’t because he’s a coward!” Mike screams and laughs like a maniac.

Jungkook steps up closer to Mike in a brusque movement, but Jimin’s fast enough to hold him back. At this point, all of his friends have already gotten up from the table, wanting to stop Jungkook from doing anything.

“Shut up, Mike! Let’s go!” Mike’s friends try to stop him as well, trying to drag him away, but even though he’s drunk, he’s still strong enough to stay in place.

“You think I didn’t know, huh, Jungkookie? You think I didn’t know that whenever I was balls deep inside of Y/N you wish it was you? You always wanted to make her scream like a bitch the way I did!”

At this moment, the fear and shame are overwhelmed by anger. Without realizing, you are the one stepping closer, you are the person who Taehyung has to grab the arm in order to stop. “Shut the fuck up, you son of a bitch!” You hear yourself yelling.

People on the tables around have gotten up - the noise of many chairs scraping the floor getting louder than the worried voices of the people trying to get away from this mess. You hear someone - a guard from the bar, maybe - threatening to call the police, but you can’t pay attention to him.

“Oh, but that’s exactly what you are! A whore!” Mike yells back. “You got so sad that I cheated on you, but haven’t you been doing the same to me?! You think I didn’t see you two inside the car that night?!”

That night… in the car…

Did he... ?

You freeze again when you see Mike pointing at Taehyung.

“Hm, you’re Taehyung, right? Are you dating her now? Well, be aware of her best friend right here, unless you like sharing your girl! But Jungkook likes leftovers, right, Jungk-?”

He doesn’t finish the sentence.

Jimin isn’t strong enough to stop Jungkook from jumping over and landing a punch on Mike’s nose.

There’s yelling and the sound of tables turning as a whole lot of men try to stop the fight and glasses breaking and Jungkook screaming incomprehensible things as he holds Mike’s collar and punches once, twice, three times, and then Mike’s mouth and nose are bleeding, and Jimin, Hoseok and Taehyung are trying to get Jungkook off Mike but it seems that not even the three would be enough to stop him.

You’ve never seen Jungkook so mad. It scares you because Mike is too drunk and can’t defend himself - but you’re not scared for Mike, that fucker can die -, you’re scared of what might happen to Jungkook.

So, when Jimin and the others drag Jungkook away as he still tries to free himself violently, you somehow squeeze yourself between them to hold Jungkook’s arm.

“Jungkook, stop!”

The black-haired man looks at you, his eyes red with rage in a way you’ve never seen before.

You didn’t notice that, in your despair, your eyes filled with tears. This is probably what makes Jungkook stop for a moment.

“Enough! I called the police! Everyone out of the bar!”

A siren can be heard from far.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here!” Jimin yells.

Another mess as everyone grabs their things and to try and run out of the bar - even the people that weren’t involved. You see that Mike hasn’t fainted as his friends grab him out of the bar in a rush.

Jungkook has to get out of here, it’s the only thing on your mind. Jungkook thinks the same apparently, because he’s quick to take his bag from the floor and jump over the bar’s fence to the sidewalk. You assumed that he didn’t drive his way here because he knew he would drink - which means he had to run.

Your only instinct is to follow him.

You jump over the fence too, much more clumsily than him. Jungkook is already running down the street.

As you’re about to follow him, you hear someone call your name.

It’s Taehyung.

He’s standing on the sidewalk as customers run out of the bar. And the look on his face crushes your heart.

I am the worst person in the world.

“Y/N, what he said… is it- is it true?” He asks quietly.

You open your mouth as if to say something, but nothing coherent comes out of it. The guilt rushes with adrenaline through your veins. You knew he would be hurt, but it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. It wasn’t.

“I-I’m sorry, Taehyung,” is the only thing you can stutter.

You don’t see what face he makes next - both because you can’t take it, and because you’re already turning around and running down the street after Jungkook.

Jungkook is the only thing on your mind.

You can’t let him go away like this.

You run through the busy streets full of bars. As usual, they’re crowded with people. Some of them look at you running like crazy when you pass by, but you can’t stop running because you can still hear the sirens.

Jungkook has some damn long legs. He runs much faster than you and doesn’t even look back. You can barely breathe and your stomach hurts as you unsuccessfully try to catch up to him. You keep running and running and running until you’re on less busier streets, until the bars are left behind and now you’re on a more residential part of the neighbourhood. As Jungkook crosses an almost empty square, you decided that your body can’t take it anymore. You stop gradually, feeling your entire body scream in pain.

“Jungk- Jungkook!” you yell.

The black-haired man finally looks behind his back and sees you; he widens his eyes in surprise and stops.

“Why are you-?”

He doesn’t have the time to finish his sentence as the sound of the sirens get closer. You immediately start to run again and this time - instead of running in front of you - Jungkook waits until you get closer to grab your hand, forcing you to run faster. You two cross the square and run into a stair alley with houses on both sides. It’s quiet here. Jungkook crouches down behind a big trash bin, making you crouch down as well.

You both make as much silence as possible (considering you’re both panting heavily), both sweating, and wait until the sounds and lights of the police siren go away.

After maybe five minutes Jungkook gets up again, dropping his backpack on the floor. He cleans the sweat on his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt; you rest your hands on your legs, trying to recover your breath. Your stomach hurts as if it has been stabbed. Maybe I should start working out.

You notice that Jungkook’s right hand is hurt; his knuckles are swollen and bleeding a little. He frowns in pain as he analyzes it. “You- you’re hurt.” you stupidly stutter. Jungkook shakes his head.

“It’s nothing.” He says in a low voice. “I said I would beat him up if I saw him…”

Out of instinct you step closer to him, worried, and lift your hands to hold his swollen one.

But Jungkook steps back before you can even touch him. He literally flinched away from you.

It feels like an arrow has just buried itself in your heart.

He’s not looking at you.

“Jungkook-”

“No.” He shakes his head again. He’s breathing heavily as if trying to calm himself down. “Don’t… don’t say anything. Please.”

It’s getting so difficult to breathe. Jungkook puts his hands on each side of his waist, staring at something on the floor - clearly avoiding your pleading gaze.

“But Jungkook, I… you didn’t…” why the hell can’t you speak a coherent sentence anymore? That’s why you followed him all the way. You must make things clear, but seeing his face right now makes you hesitate. Jungkook looks genuinely angry; you’ve never seen him like this, ever.

He throws his head back, looking at the sky, and lets a very dry chuckle past his lips. His expression tells you everything you need to know - he’s tipsy, not entirely drunk.

“You know, I don’t even understand why I’m angry.” You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or to himself. “There was never anything real happening, right? We were never real.”

You feel yourself choking on your own words. What does he mean?

“Jungkook, you have to listen to me. I just wanted to talk to Taehyung-”

“You don’t need to explain yourself, Y/N!” He interrupts and finally gazes you back with bloodshot eyes. “We’re fuck buddies, right? It’s just for fun, right? No real feelings involved. It’s not like we’re supposed to care.”

Tears start to make your sight blurred. Each word of his sound more and more bitter, more sad, more hurt, and it feels like someone has buried the arrow in your heart deeper when you realize that his eyes are getting teary, too.

“Stop saying that. You know it’s not true. You’re the person I care about the most in this world-”

“If you start saying how I’m your best friend I’m leaving you right now.”

You frown and blink, trying to dissipate the tears. “B-But it’s true-”

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N! I’m in love with you! Stop acting like you don’t know that already!”

It feels like your brain and your limbs and your lungs stopped working all at once.

Did he… did he just…?

Jungkook exhales heavily. He looks so tired. He rests his back against the wall in front of you, once again avoiding your gaze.

Something tells you that this should have been a happy moment. Deep down, you feel the pure bliss and excitement and it feels like your heart will combust - because you finally heard the words you wanted to hear the most coming directly from his mouth, you finally understood everything; he felt the same, the fucking same.

Yet, all the happiness is being overwhelmed by worry.

You’re watching him intently. You know the man in front of you better than you know yourself. You’ve never seen this expression before - this mix of anger and hurt have never been directed towards you. You’re scared because you don’t know what it implies.

It’s his breaking point.

He might be giving up on you right now.

You don’t know what to say. For a long moment, you just stare at him as he tries to calm himself down - always avoiding your gaze. It seems that words won’t come out of your mouth no matter how hard you try.

“Since when?” is the only thing you can whisper after a long time.

Jungkook shakes his head and lets yet another lifeless chuckle. “I don’t know.” He says in a low, broken voice.

Your fingers are shaking as you close your hands in tight fists. He needs to hear the truth.

“Jungkook.” Yet again, you hesitantly step closer. Your voice is fragile, pleading. “You got it all wrong. Please, you have to listen to me. Today, I-”

“Yeah, I know I got it all wrong from the start.” He interrupts you again. Shut up!, you want to scream. Let me fucking speak!

However, you can’t speak anymore when you notice the tears dripping down his face.

Jungkook is crying.

It’s your fault.

He passes both hands over his face as quickly as the first tears started to fall and sighs heavily. He takes his bag from the floor and shoves it over his shoulder again, turning around before you can see his face again, before you have the chance to say anything.

“I’m going home. You should go home, too.”

And he starts to walk down the stairs way too fast.

Your body is moving before your mind registers and you try to catch up to him. “Jungkook, wait-”

“Don’t.”

Is the only thing he says without looking back.

This makes you stop.

You watch, frozen in place, as he walks down the stairs. You keep your eyes on him as he crosses the empty square again. He’s almost running.

He wants to get away from you as soon as possible.

You know Jungkook too well. You know that, even if you followed him, even if you insisted, he wouldn’t want to hear you anyway. He’d probably despise you even more. This is what made you freeze.

You suddenly feel your legs get weak and sit down on the stair steps. Not only your legs, actually. All of your limbs feel heavy.

You don’t remember the last time you cried like this. The unstoppable tears just coming and coming and the sobs barely let you breathe.

You’re crying because you’re ashamed of what just happened at the bar - how Mike made you feel humiliated in front of all those people. You’re guilty because you weren’t honest with Taehyung and now there’s no way back - you let him believe in whatever he wanted to believe instead of making things clear, and now he’s hurt.

And the worst of all.

You’ve been hurting Jungkook so bad for so long without realizing. You hurt the person you cared about the most.��

All of it is your fault.

God, it hurts so much.

You know Jungkook too well. He’s the person that has been always there with you for better or for worse. You always knew you’d have each other’s backs no matter what happens; he’s a part of you, the most important, most precious part of you.

This time, you genuinely don’t know what will happen from now on.

This time... you don’t know if Jungkook will ever forgive you.

#btswriterscollective #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios

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dreamyyang · 3 years

Text

summary: you made taeil’s undead heart soar and he was absolutely addicted to the feeling.

pairing(s): yandere!zombie!moon taeil x reader | kim doyoung x reader

warning(s): swearing, obsessive behaviour, mentions of blood, gore (kind of..?), minor character death, cannibalism, non con (taeil forcefully kisses the reader)

word count: 2.6k words

a/n: this is pretty heavy stuff so if any of the aforementioned content triggers you, do not read. please note that I do not condone taeil’s behaviour and that this is purely a work of fiction. my fic is not an accurate representation of taeil’s actual personality.

part of @127-mile’s addiction collab

emotions were as foreign to moon taeil as brains and human flesh once were. while he doesn’t mind either of them, they were just very hard to come by. that changed when he got a job at the qian family’s mortuary, courtesy of qian kun, a mutual friend. johnny had already explained taeil’s special situation to kun, who agreed to give taeil access to the bodies so long as he worked as kun’s assistant. it was an excellent arrangement for both men - taeil could finally eat some proper food while kun finally had help. for obvious reasons, not many people were willing to work at a morgue, especially for such low wages.

taeil managed to ease himself into a routine of work, brains, sleep then repeat. while many people would eventually go insane from being constantly surrounded by cold, still bodies, taeil couldn’t care less. a zombie couldn’t ask for a better arrangement. while he did not experience emotions, he still felt a semblance of peace.

at least, that was before you showed up, completely unannounced. of course, your arrival wasn’t completely random, kun did warn taeil that his cousin was coming home after getting their phd, but you weren’t what taeil expected. he had this mental image of you being stoic and reserved. he thought you’d briefly acknowledge him with a slight nod while visiting your cousin and that would be it. imagine his surprise when he came to work and was greeted by a smile brighter than the sun. you were like the human embodiment of a meadow of flowers in the summer - warm, wonderful and welcoming. hell, you even smelled like flowers.

suddenly, his daily routine was ruined.

most mornings, you would meet him at the mortuary, looking as fresh as a daisy, and hand him an equally fresh box of baked goods from the bakery next to your clinic. if it was a slow morning, and it usually was, you would make small talk with him while kun went over the day’s plans in his office. he began to cherish those morning conversations with you and his undead heart would sink when the clock struck nine and it was time for you to hug him and kun goodbye. from then on, he was usually in a sour mood for the rest of the day, not humouring the silly jokes kun made as they worked. he would get off work with a dull ache in his heart if you weren’t there to pick kun up or offer to take them out for drinks.

this abrupt change frightened taeil more than anything. why was he suddenly experiencing these strange feelings? he hated it. every day, he was going through a rollercoaster of emotions that would be decided by whether or not he saw his boss’ cousin. it was so absurd. in the past five years of him being a zombie, he hadn’t felt such extreme emotions before. they all felt so...so human.

when he consulted johnny about these strange occurrences, his friend began to howl with laughter, “dude, it’s so obvious!”

taeil glared at johnny, “care to explain what exactly is so obvious?”

“you like y/n. why else would you be constantly pining for them?”

taeil scoffed. johnny must have smoked something because there was no way he liked you. at best, he had known you for three months and it isn’t like you regularly spent time together. plus, you were related to his boss. johnny had no idea what he was talking about, he was full of shit.

“that’s bullshit. I don’t buy it,” taeil shook his head, leaning back in his chair.

“no I swear, it’s true! we drove past this factory and they were just beheading these chickens out in the open,” you sighed. “anyway, the sight was so sickening, I’ve never looked at meat the same way since.”

“yet you decided to be a thoracic surgeon.”

you shrugged, “yeah but operating on people and eating meat are two different things. I don’t mind looking at flesh and blood but the thought of eating any makes me sick.”

taeil silently thanked you as you made that statement. ever since johnny had suggested that taeil liked you, he’d been searching for reasons not to like you. and of course, there’s no way he could like you if you were a vegetarian. you would be absolutely disgusted if you knew what his main diet consisted of. yet, every now and then, he felt his mind drifting away to a different mental list - a list of the things he liked about you.

he liked how you would come up with the most absurd conversation starters, just to make him crack a smile. he liked how your hugs were warm and comfortable. he was even beginning to like the fuzzy feeling that would envelop his heart whenever he was around you. you made him giddy and lovesick and eventually, he didn’t mind anymore. being around you all the time forced him to accept that he had very strong feelings for you. in fact, he was certain that even as a human, he had never had feelings this intense. there was just something special about you that had him feeling some sort of way. normally, he would have been afraid of how you controlled your heart but now? he was in too deep to care.

he decided it was better for him to just accept the fact that he loved you. why try to fight it? it was highly unlikely that he would feel this way about anyone ever again. he had to hold onto you, he would be insane to let you go.

finally, he plucked up the courage to confess to you. he was falling for you more and more every single day, and not being with you was slowly killing him. he decided to surprise you at the clinic where you worked with a bouquet of your favourite flowers. he planned to treat you to lunch at a romantic café then confess to you while walking you back to the clinic. he had rehearsed the little speech he wanted to give over twenty times with johnny, who repeatedly assured him that everything would go well.

it did not go well.

taeil was greeted by a unpleasant surprise when he reached the entrance of the clinic. there you stood, his beloved y/n, in another man’s arms. taeil watched, horrified, as the man placed a soft kiss on your lips. you looked so happy with him and it broke taeil’s heart. he felt awful as he watched you smile at the man. that same wonderful smile that he wished was for his eyes only. it felt like a cruel joke to have your laughter fill his ears as tears pricked his eyes. taeil was glad that nobody was paying attention to him as hot tears stained his cheeks. he couldn’t have gotten away sooner, pushing past the people on the street to go home.

he quickly texted an excuse to kun about how he felt sick and would be gone for the rest of the day. it wasn’t exactly a lie - he did feel sick and every time he thought about you and the stranger, it only got worse. he ripped up the bouquet and the plastic that had been wrapped around their stems, screaming as he did it. pain bled into fury as he destroyed the beautiful flowers. he was unbelievably angry and wouldn’t stop until every last petal had been snatched from the base and scattered on the floor. he was blinded by rage as he made a mess of his apartment floor. finally, the bouquet had been completely ripped apart and tears cleared taeil’s vision.

he dropped to the floor, feeling miserable as he stared at the mess, tears streaking down his face. he loved you so much, but someone had stolen you away. how dare that asshole? you were supposed to be taeil’s, how could he just come between the two of you like that? how incredibly selfish of him. taeil had to get rid of him, as soon as possible. the more time you spend with that jerk, the more he’ll ruin you. taeil scowled at the memory of the two of you kissing. he will pay.

it was decided. taeil was going to make you his, one way or another. whether you liked it or not.

“I hate this, taeil.”

taeil nodded, feigning sympathy as you pouted and continued to complain, “doyoung’s been so busy the past week that he hasn’t been able to call me even once. he just sends brief texts… I really miss him.”

“that sucks, y/n, but you know, it’s a very demanding job.”

“yeah I know…but would it kill him to at least call to say good night?” you sighed, sipping your tea. “whatever. thank you so much for listening to my rant, taeil, I really appreciate it. you’re an awesome friend.”

the word stung, but taeil tried not to show it as he smiled and promised you that he didn’t mind. which was half true. taeil could never get tired of listening to you talk about any topic but one - kim doyoung, your boyfriend. it didn’t really matter, though. soon, taeil would make sure that you would forget all about that piece of shit. soon, moon taeil would be the only thing on your mind, just like how you were the only thing on his min

but first he had to punish you. you deserved it. if you hadn’t gone and dated another man, he wouldn’t have considered such a thing. you needed to be disciplined. you belonged to taeil and he was going to make sure that you remembered that fact. so he sat there in front of you, politely nodding as you vented about your boyfriend, and tried to think of a suitable punishment.

“I know I’m complaining about him a lot, but I really like doyoung,” you laughed. “even though he took me to a barbecue place for our first date.”

that’s when a lightbulb went off in taeil’s brain.

for someone who couldn’t survive without eating brains, taeil sure was an idiot. somehow, he’d gotten roped into a dinner date with you, doyoung and doyoung’s sister, jisoo. at least he managed to convince you to let him host the dinner at his apartment, insisting that he wanted to make a good first impression on jisoo. you’d wiggled your eyebrows and teased him about it but he knew, deep down, setting him up with someone else was hurting you. but you wouldn’t have to worry about hiding your feelings for much longer - taeil would soon relieve you of your misery. ideally of course, he wouldn’t want to start off your relationship with a double date with other people. not to mention your little punishment, but hey, all relationships have their ups and downs.

now if he could just get that pesky little jisoo out of the way.

after briefly stalking doyoung’s instagram account, taeil managed to find jisoo’s account and figured out where she worked. getting her to stay away was easier than he thought it would be. all he had to do was press a small knife against her neck and she was begging for him to leave her alone. he left her trembling in the alley behind her office, with her tears stinging the small cut that ran down the side of her cheek. he wasn’t worried about her telling her brother since that’s who he’d be visiting next.

he had to say, out of all the humans he’d made dishes out of, doyoung was certainly the best. probably because his meat was actually fresh, but you really seemed to enjoy him as well.

“god taeil, your spaghetti is wonderful. I can’t believe doyoung and jisoo are missing out,” you nearly moaned as you devoured your dinner. “these are the best vegan meatballs I’ve ever had. seriously, how’d you make this?”

taeil shrugged, “I used a pretty basic recipe, although I did use something extra special for those meatballs.”

“would you mind sharing what that special thing is, master moon?”

taeil’s smile dropped, his expression completely serious now. you didn’t think much of it, taeil was probably just being dramatic. however his tone as he spoke his next sentence sent a chill down your spine.

“enough dilly-dallying. tell me, sweetheart, did you really think you could get away with dating another man?”

you were too stunned to speak, what the fuck did he just say?

“woah, don’t get shy now. did you seriously think you could go be someone else's whore and I wouldn’t get mad?”

“taeil, what on earth are you talking about?”

you looked like a scared and helpless little rabbit and taeil would be lying if he said that didn’t make him feel some type of way. taeil’s predatory gaze burned into your eyes, ensnaring you and refusing to let go. you were confused. why was taeil behaving like this? why was he so angry with you? but you were certain about one thing: tonight was not going to end well for you.

with a gentle voice, you tried to calm him down so the two of you could have a rational conversation but taeil wasn’t having any of it. he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you up to your feet, stepping away from the dining table and pulling you close till your chest brushed against his. suddenly, his steely gaze slightly softened.

“y/n, my love, I hope you know that I didn’t want to do this to you, but you left me no choice. you forced my hand.”

tears were beginning to well up in your eyes. taeil was getting frustrated. you knew exactly what he was talking about yet you were acting as though taeil was speaking in cryptic messages. taeil noticed your tears and tsked, cupping your cheeks. there was no point in you crying now. the deed was done. taeil was hoping you’d learnt your lesson so the two of you could move past this.

“don’t cry, sweetheart. at least, not until you know what I did.”

“but taeil, I don’t even know what I’ve done,” you sniffed lightly.

“darling, I love you. and I know you love me too, you don’t need to say it. but why did you have to go and date doyoung? do you know how much that hurt me?”

you shook your head, “taeil, I really didn’t know how you felt. but I’m sorry, I don’t feel the same way.”

taeil glared and tightened his grip on your jaw, “fucking lies! that dickhead doyoung has brainwashed you. oh my precious y/n, I feel so awful for punishing you the way I did, but how else will I fix you?”

“what do you mean?” you asked, afraid of the answer he was going to give you.

“those vegan meatballs, darling. although I suppose the term ‘doyoung meatballs’ would be more accurate.”

your beautiful features were twisted into a look of pure horror as realisation dawned upon you. taeil couldn’t help but let his lips form a maniacal grin. he was rather proud, even if he did say so himself. doyoung would never be a problem ever again. nor would anyone else be, for that matter. taeil knew that you were his good, obedient little y/n. you wouldn’t dare to hurt him ever again. satisfied, he leaned in and forced you into a kiss. you were too shocked to fight back.

as he pulled away, he pushed the hair out of your face.

“remember to behave yourself, darling.”

#nct 127 #nct #moon taeil #nct taeil #nct writings #nct fics #nct angst #nct 127 angst #nct 127 x reader #moon taeil x reader #taeil x reader #taeil angst #yandere!nct #yandere au #zombie au #nct au #yandere!taeil #nct horror

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years

Note

NO BUT FR I get so fucking tired of degradation and impact play and DADDY KINK showing up with absolutely no goddamn warning like. Tag ur shit pls dear god 😭😭😭 AND IT FEELS LIKE HALF THE TIME WHEN PEOPLE TAG PRAISE KINK ITS JOINED WITH UNTAGGED DEGRADATION AND IM JUST LIKE🧍I DONT WANT THISSSS literally when I see praise kink and no degradation tag I do NOT wanna be called a slut I am expecting absolute worship

This is probably a silly complaint but personally I’m a SUPER vanilla person and its almost disheartening to me to not be able to find vanilla smut??? Like ik writing vanilla pwp probably gets suuuuuper boring eventually, plus fiction obvi is a great way to just mess around and have fun and so I totally understand why kinky stuff is far more prevalent among smut blogs but like. It’s concerning to see degradation n stuff so normalized? Esp bc the vast majority of fics don’t go into discussions abt safewords and hard limits etc beforehand or aftercare on the tail end both of which are. Super fucking important with that shit (again, I get why, people writing & reading pwp don’t rlly wanna halt the action for that stuff and it’s fiction so it doesn’t really matter but it’s still important!). I just think abt people who r starting to explore their sexuality through smut and all they find is fucking. Degradation and hardcore impact play and power imbalances, all largely untagged bc it’s so prevalent and apparently the fandom thinks that’s what vanilla is

(And for the record, I’m not just a reader complaining abt this shit, I write what I wanna read and that’s. 10k words of buildup to sweet romantic sex at the very end KFBFKSBD I’m doing my part not just bitching abt others not catering to my whims dw) But I absolutely understand how many authors who focus on pwp end up like. Relying on kinkiness to have more variety esp when it’s smut blogs that churn out quality content daily. I just wish people would understand that tagging is rlly sooooo important even if u don’t see other authors tagging a specific thing

Anyway all that aside absolutely do post ur femdom stuff here! It’s ur blog and we’re all here bc we like ur writing yanno. It’s rlly awful that people give u shit for it but like. Ultimately u should be writing what u want. Block those dickheads and move on yanno?

HEJKFDKDSJLJF PLEASE

i’ve gone on so many rants about this in the past so i simply will not go onto another tangent but esentially - i think there are a few reasons it gets super normalized outside of it being popular but in general it’s just one of those things that happens and you deal with as you’re online.

honestly, a lot of tumblrs kink writing boils down to the greater issue of what i like to call “internet kink” which is so deeply far removed from actually bdsm LMAO and i understand it more n the context of writing fiction but broadly speaking like.. the internet has a truly odd idea of what sex constitutes i think and it can be p damaging to never address

writer what you want! enjoy what you want! im literally a sadist and i spend so much of my day reading hentai comics it’s insane. but like idk.. there’s something to be said about the normalization of hard degradation and heavy kink play with no aftercare in online spaces. like no tags just raw-dog right there in the world lmao. as a psa to anyone who is a virgin or really anyone inexperienced who needs to hear it again

it’s completely okay if you have no interest in kinky content or sex. it’s normal to be vanilla and you shouldn’t feel any shame for that. you’re not boring. sex is fun because of your chemistry with your partner and you do not need any extra bells and whistles if you don’t want them.

#return to sender #sex ed #ur valid anon #discourse cw #<- just in case

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unholyobsessions · 4 years

Text

Welcome to my dorm

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Warnings: eight year age difference. Mentions of kidnapping

Description: the FBI question you about your friend’s disappearance and you can’t help feeling for a certain doctor. (Inspired by scene above)

Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4 There was heavy knocking on your door. You rolled over, burying your face deeper in the pillow. “Y/n l/n this is the FBI open up!” You let out a groan followed by a dry laugh. “Real funny Danny now let me sleep,” you yelled loud enough for who you assumed was your friend Danny to hear. The knocking continued, pissing you off. You let out a huff reaching over to your nightstand to put on your glasses and climbed out of your bed. “Damn it Daniel seriously if you don’t knock it off I swe-“ you opened the door and the words died in your throat.

Two very attractive men were standing in front of you holding FBI badges up. You saw them eye you up and down which prompted you to look down at yourself. You felt heat rush to your face as you took in the loose booty shorts and bralette you were wearing. Both men put their badges away and stood awkwardly at the door. You snapped out of your embarrassed daze and cleared your throat. “I am not wearing the appropriate clothes for this. Come in.” You stepped out of the way and headed to your closet to grab a random sweatshirt, pulling it over your head. Once you were no longer exposed you turned to face the agents that were now letting their gazes wonder around your dorm room. You found yourself thanking past you for taking the time to clean it two days ago. When they realized that you were now fully dressed the dark skinned man spoke. “We are sorry to bother you this early, I’m Agent Derek Morgan and this is Dr. Spencer Reid and we need to ask you some questions.” The man who you now identified as Agent Morgan gestured to the tall curly haired man next to him. You smiled gently at both of them before pointing to the two chairs by the desk. “Questions regarding what, Agents?” You asked them as they sat down. “The disappearance of Haley Bowen. She went to school here.” This time it was Dr. Reid that spoke. Your eyes widened, you knew her. “Oh my God okay.” You took a deep breath, your brain not really knowing how to react. “Umm do you guys want coffee? I can’t really function without caffeine in the morning so I’m just going to make a pot.” You changed the subject quickly. Your friend was missing and the agents needed your help. You cannot break down. “No thank you.” Agent Morgan answered at the same time as Dr. Reid said, “Yes please.” You sent him a smile and started preparing the coffee. Morgan gave Reid a look and he shrugged as if to say ‘hey, coffee is coffee.’ “How do you take your coffee? Personally I take mine with too much sugar and too much creamer because I don’t really enjoy the taste of coffee but I’m still kind of addicted to it. Which my friends say makes me insane but I actually think it’s pretty normal. The taste is too bitter, reminds me of dark chocolate,” you stopped yourself. “Sorry I’m rambling I tend to do that in uncomfortable situations.” You looked at Dr. Reid expectantly and it took him a second to realize that you were waiting for his answer. “Oh uh three teaspoons.” He gave a small nod at the sugar in your hand. You smiled widely at him, seemingly glad that you were not the only one to enjoy overly sweet coffee. She’s cute, Spencer found himself thinking. After stirring sugar into both cups you walked over to the agents and handed one of the cups to Dr. Reid. Seeing as there were no more available chairs, you hopped on your desk and sat criss cross facing them. “So why are you asking me about Haley?” You took a long sip of your coffee. “She was last seen at the bar you work at.” Agent Morgan spoke but you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off Dr. Reid. He’s cute, you thought. “So she disappeared on Saturday?” You let out a sigh. “You remember seeing her?” This time Reid spoke making direct eye contact with you. You nodded. “She was a regular so we became friends over time. She comes in every weekend to blow off steam. She’s double majoring so she has a lot on her plate. She sits at the bar. Same place every time so I’m always her bartender.” Both Agents nodded at the information given, internally relieved that this interview could result in a lead in the case. “Did you notice anything different about her that night? Anybody that tried to approach her or payed more attention to her?” Dr. Reid asked you. “Well she seemed nervous. She talks to me a lot, rants about her professors and stuff like that. She didn’t talk much on Saturday and she seemed restless. Fidgeting in her seat and playing with the rings on her fingers. I just assumed she was meeting a guy and that’s why she was nervous. I pay attention to her, she gets drunk often and all of the workers like to make sure that nobody too drunk walks home alone or leaves with someone they are uncomfortable with. Whenever she was uncomfortable with a guy trying to make a move on her she played with her rings. That’s when I knew to intervene.” You took a deep breath and a gulp of your coffee, burning your tongue in the process. You felt tears pooling in your eyes and you did your best to blink them away. “Did you see a guy approach her that night?” Again it was Dr. Reid who asked the question, his voice softer this time. You hesitated before answering trying your hardest to remember. “There was this one guy,” you paused, letting your mind wander back to Saturday night. “He wasn’t drunk like most people there. He talked to her while he waited for me to serve him his drink. He got a coke which was strange for someone who was clearly sober to order. I recognized his face but couldn’t place a name. I turned around to serve another group and when I turned back the guy was walking away and Haley was asking for her check. She wasn’t drunk, barely tipsy so I didn’t insist on calling her a cab. Damn it why didn’t I call her a cab?” You couldn’t stop the tears anymore. This was your fault, you should have made sure she got home safely, you should have called her at least. She was your friend and now she could be dead and it will be your fault. Sobs racked your body, your half empty coffee cup slipping from your fingers and shattering on the floor, the sound only making you cry harder. Morgan instinctively reached for your hand the words of comfort ready to be spoken. He was stopped when Reid leaned toward you and grabbed your hand away from your face. He gave it a small tug to make you look at him. He didn’t know what came over him at that moment. He didn’t shake hands and didn’t really touch people but all he knew was that he wanted you to stop crying and he never wanted to see you sad again. “Hey it’s not your fault.” His voice was soft but firm. “There was no way for you to know what would happen and you had no way to stop it. What you told us right now is extremely helpful and will help us bring Haley back home. Okay?” You gave a small nod of your head trying to calm yourself down. “It’s okay just breath with me.” Dr. Reid took a deep breath and you mimicked him continuing until your breathing was back to normal and only a few stray tears were running down your cheeks. “Thank you.” You sniffled and smiled shyly at him. “Would you mind coming down to the station later and giving a description of the man you saw with Haley to a sketch artist?” Dr. Reid looked you in the eyes, his deep look telling you that although it was phrased as a question it was really the only choice you had. “Yeah that’s okay.” You wanted to reach up and rub at your runny nose but you noticed that he was still holding your hand. He felt the slight movement and realized as well. The both of you blushed and averted eye contact while Agent Morgan looked at the two of you with an amused expression. Both Agents stood up signaling that they were prepared to leave. You lead them to the door and they both thanked you for your time. Before you closed the door Dr. Reid handed you his card telling you to call him if you remember anything else that might seem important. You nodded at him, not trusting your voice. You gave him a wide smile which contrasted with your red teary eyes but he still felt the breath being knocked out of him. After the door closed Morgan looked at Reid. “What was that?” Spencer played dumb and started down the dormitory hallway. “What was what?” He pushed the door to the stairs open and looked back at Morgan. “What do you mean ‘what was what’ you were totally into that girl.” Morgan grinned at him and Spencer felt his cheeks heat up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Spencer started down the stairs, making a point to ignore Morgan’s laughter. • • • A few hours later you had taken a shower and put your contacts on. You put on a light face of make up and decided that this time when you met the agents you would be fully clothed so you put on a pair of jeans and a white tank top with a loose button up over it. You slipped on a pair of converse and headed to the police station. You walked up to the front desk and smiled lightly at the woman sitting behind it. “Hi I’m looking for Dr. Reid he told me I was coming in for a sketch.” The woman nodded and gestured someone over. You waited patiently as the two had a conversation and eventually Dr. Reid came into view. You smiled at him and it grew when he gave you a grin back. He guided you through the police station with a hand placed firmly on your back his hand pressing harder when one of the men in the holding cell wolf whistled at you. He brought you to a room where a sketch artist was sitting there waiting. “Here you go.” He mumbled under his breath. “Thank you.” You sat down as Reid left the room. You talked to the sketch artist for about 45 minutes trying to give as much detail as possible. You looked at your watch and noticed your afternoon shift at the bar was starting soon. You quickly thanked the artist and made a quick exit in hopes of not being late. You speed walked all the way to the bar and got there just in time to see the morning bartender ready to leave his shift. He sent you a tight lipped smile as you settled yourself behind the bar. The place was empty except for the man sitting at the bar who looked to be nursing a glass of whiskey. A few minutes later you heard the door ring signaling someone coming in. “Be right with you,” you called as you refilled the man’s glass. He was mumbling something about a cheating girlfriend which made you wince slightly. People dealing with heartbreak at a bar never ended well. You turned around to greet the costumer who had just taken a seat at the bar. Your eyes widened in surprise when you saw Dr. Reid sitting there with a sheepish smile on his beautiful face. “Dr. Reid what can I do for you?” He looked down for a second before making eye contact. He’s nervous, you thought. “I just needed to clear my head for a bit and I wanted to take a look at the scene and try to get a sense of what happened that night.” You nodded your head before giving him your signature smile. “Well can I get you something? I’m not going to offer anything alcoholic since you are still on the job but I do make a mean Arnold palmer.” You sent him a subtle wink, reaching under the bar for a glass. He snorted before accepting your offer. Setting the prepared drink in front of him, you spared a glance at the sulking man to find him slumped in his seat with light snores leaving his mouth. Damn, you thought, this is going to be a slow shift. You turned your attention back to the Dr. who was looking at you with a quirked brow having noticed the frown on your face. You quickly explained how you hated afternoon shifts because they usually consisted of you being bored out of your mind dealing with day drinkers. He struck up conversation to “relieve some of your boredom” as he so kindly put it. Conversation flowed extremely easy between the two of you, talking about anything and everything. From his experience in college to what your favorite song was at the moment. “I have a question,” he spoke after taking a bite of the french fries you had brought out at some point during the conversation. “I may have an answer. Ask away doc.” He smiled lightly at the nickname. “You’re a senior right?” You nodded your head, wondering where this was going. “So why do you still live in the dorms?” You let out a small laugh. “It’s part of my scholarship. I get free housing and I am also an RA.” He took a sip of his drink and mulled over the information. “Now it’s my turn. How old are you?” You told yourself it was an innocent question, that you held no ulterior motives other than curiosity. His eyebrows rose before he set his glass down. “I’m twenty-nine. You’re twenty-one right?” “Yeah.” Eight years, you thought, not that big of a difference. You internally scolded yourself. You couldn’t be thinking that. He was here doing an investigation on your missing friend. He wasn’t thinking about picking up some random college girl who still lived in the school dormitories.

Similarly, Spencer was having an internal battle about his feelings. He wanted to believe that what he was feeling was simple protectiveness over a witness, although it was pretty clear that you were not in any sort of danger.

“So where do you live?” You asked in order to fill the silence that had taken place. “I live about and hour and a half away in D.C.” He felt the need to add the fact that he didn’t live far away from your current location. “I’ve never been.” You said. He almost chocked on his drink. “You’ve never been to D.C.? But it’s so close!” Again with the proximity, could you be any more obvious? Spencer scolded himself. “I know I know but I work most weekends and when I’m not working I’m studying so it is kind of hard to get free time.” I’ll take you. That is what he wanted to say. He had to stop before he made a fool out of himself. He didn’t know why he was feeling this way. Sure he has been attracted to plenty of girls before but you were different. You didn’t stop his ramblings about statistics and random facts that he had in his brain. You listened to him and sometimes even asked to him to elaborate more on a certain subject. You also tended to ramble like when he asked about your family, you went on a tangent about how your mom was your best friend and your younger sister had a dream of being a dancer. Or when he asked about your major and you went on to explain all the research you were doing. You were so passionate about everything you talked about. He smiled at the happiness in your eyes. They were still bloodshot from your breakdown this morning but they held so much happiness and hope that he couldn’t help but feel the same. He was about to reply when his phone rang and he realized he had been talking to you for over an hour. More than halfway to D.C., he thought. He answered it and heard Morgan’s voice telling him to head back to the station as they had found the name of the man who talked to Haley that night. “I uh- I have to go.” He gestured behind him to the door but he couldn’t bring himself to stand up yet. You nodded your head, slightly disappointed that he had to leave. You reached into your pocket and pulled out the card he gave you this morning, writing down your number on the back. “Call me if you find her. Please. Dead or alive I don’t care I just don’t want to find out from the news.” You handed him the card and he looked down at it. “Don’t you need my number if you need to call me? If you have more information that is.” He questioned. “Oh I already put it on my phone. Is that weird?” He looked at you with something that you couldn’t put your finger on. “No, not weird. Kind of cute actually.” He smiled down at you, having already stood up from the bar chair. You blushed and looked away from him. Your blush gave him a sudden surge of confidence. “Can I call you? Even if it isn’t about Haley. Can I just call you?” You smiled brightly at him. “Yes Dr. Reid you can call me.” “Spencer,” he said. You gave him a confused look. “Call me Spencer.” He took a step back heading to the door. “Spencer.” You tested the name on your lips, the smile never leaving your face. He grinned at you and walked out the door. • • • The next day you received a call from Spencer after your lecture. You smiled down at your phone before answering. “Spencer to what do I owe the pleasure?” “Hey y/n we found Haley.” Your heart stopped, the voice in your head praying for it to be good news. “She’s alive and being taken to the hospital.” A long breath left your lips as tears stung your eyes. She’s alive. She’s alive. Without thinking you hung up the phone and hurried to find a cab that could take you to the hospital. You payed the man quickly and took off after he pulled up to the curb. You saw Spencer with Agent Morgan and a woman you haven’t seen before but you assumed she was a part of their team. “She’s okay? Please tell me she’s going to be okay.” You started speaking as soon as you were within hearing distance of Spencer. As he soon as he saw you his eyes softened. “She’s in the ICU right now. They are setting her up and her mom is on the way.” He looked down at you and his heart broke at the tears that were making their way down your cheeks. “Oh thank god. Who was it? Was it the guy I-“ your voice broke before you could finish but Spencer understood what you wanted to ask. “Yeah it was. If it wasn’t for you remembering him it would have taken us a lot longer to find her. You saved her y/n okay?” He reassured you because he knew what you were thinking. It was written across your face. You could have stopped him. “You had no way of knowing. Don’t blame yourself.” He placed his hands on your shoulders as you nodded your head weakly. You leaned your head on his chest needing some sort of comfort from what you were feeling. He didn’t push you away. In fact he pulled you closer and let you cry, staining his shirt. Morgan and Prentiss gave each other a bewildered look because Spencer Reid did not hug. Much less strangers who were witnesses on a case. A doctor came into view and cleared his throat. “Haley Bowen,” he called out. You pulled away from Spencer and walked toward the doctor. “Yes?” He gave you a smile which you took to be good news. “She’s going to be fine. She has a concussion, bruised ribs and sprained wrists from being bound but I have no doubt that she will make a full recovery and be out of here in the next few days.” You let out a sigh of relief. “Can I see her?” The doctor shook his head. “Right now it is family only and I’ve been told her mother is not far but after she gets moved out of the ICU tomorrow you can come visit her at any time.” The doctor finished and walked away. You turned back to the three agents who were now looking at you. You felt awkward in their gaze so you locked eyes with Spencer. “Thank you Spencer really. I should go I have a class in about 40 minutes but hey don’t be a stranger.” You pointed an accusing finger at him and he let out a laugh. “Spencer?” Prentiss and Morgan mouthed to each other. “I won’t I swear. I’ll call you later?” He ignored the questioning looks his coworkers were sure to be giving him. “I’d like that. Maybe you can show me around D.C. sometime.” He smiled as he remembered their conversation yesterday. “Definitely.” You blushed, something that you found yourself doing a lot around him. “Bye Spencer.” “See you later y/n.” He watched you disappear from view before turning back to Morgan and Prentiss. “Okay what the hell was that?” Prentiss spoke up first. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He smiled innocently at both of them before walking away in search of coffee, ignoring his friend’s calls from behind him. He wondered if you would mind him calling you earlier than expected.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb #cm #criminal minds #emily prentiss #derek morgan #mgg blurb #mgg #mgg x reader #spencer reid x y/n #reader insert

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rejectofsociety · 3 years

Text

We’ll Get Old If We’re Lucky

Summary:

He reaches forward and holds her hand and she presses her lips into a thin smile. Then she sighs, wipes off the wound again, and reaches for the needle and thread.

“Now for the easy part,” she hums.

“Yeah, you’re a pro at this,” Peter agrees as he lets go of her hand.

“Mhm. Now, what did you realize earlier?” Michelle asks, knowing Peter prefers to have his mind busy while getting stitched up.

He thinks a moment about how to word his realization, then says slowly: “everyone’s afraid to die young… but no one wants to be old.”

•••

After Peter comes home with a bullet in his side, he and Michelle discuss growing old, and if they’ll be lucky enough to get there.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Cursing, Discussions of Death, a rant disguised as a fic

Read here on Ao3

༺✦✮✦༻

Peter stumbles home at around midnight, quickly being greet by his wife, then scolded by her for bleeding out on her carpet. Michelle then leads him to the bathroom were he collapses onto the tile, rips off his mask, and vomits all over the floor. With a sigh, she cleans him up, cleans up the vomit, kisses the side of his neck, then leans him against the bathtub. He apologizes a few times and she waves him off, then grabs the first aid kit and asks:

“Where should I start?”

“Ummm…” Peter hesitates, “probably here—“ he points to his side which is steadily oozing blood “—I uh… mighta got shot.”

Michelle heaves a sigh and grabs a rag, “I should really just take you to the hospital.”

“No, no, no, no,” Peter says quickly, then winces as a pain shoots up his side, “no, Em. Just… just pull the bullet out, stitch it up— my self-healing factor can do the rest.”

She chews her lip for a moment then nods, “okay, fine. Lay down.”

“Thank you,” Peter replies gratefully then plants a light kiss on her cheek.

She presses the spider symbol on his suit and delicately helps him slide his arms out of the sleeves, then lets the suit fall to his waist. Then, Peter gingerly lays on his back with some assistance from Michelle. She presses a rag to the wound and leans her weight on it, quickly feeling his warm and sticky blood seeping through. Peter props himself up with an elbow to watch her.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Peter guiltily mumbles, seeing her grimace.

“It’s fine,” she grunts.

He shifts his weight, frowning slightly at her stiff reply. She doesn’t notice.

After a few minutes of silence, with the only sound being Peter’s occasional grunt or whimper of pain, the bleeding finally slows to a stop. Michelle stands up and washes her hands thoroughly, her sleeves now rolled up past her elbows. Then, she cleans Peter’s wound with hot water and a bit of soap and places a pair of tweezers in boiling water. The entire time her breathing is shuddering and uneven, and her hands shake anxiously.

Of course Peter notices, and while they wait for the tweezers to cool off, he wraps one arm around her and holds her close. She lays her head on his chest and mutters to him:

“I just want you to be okay. I don’t want you to hurt.”

To which he whispers back: “it’s okay, Em. I’m okay.”

Even with the tweezers ready, he holds her a while longer to ease her nerves. She calms slowly, eventually pulling herself together for Peter’s sake. Michelle ties back her hair into a sloppy ponytail to keep it out of her face then grabs the tweezers and sits on her knees at Peter’s side, hunched over the gunshot wound.

“MJ, I just realized something,” he says, before Michelle can even locate the bullet.

“Let me pull this thing out of you, then you can tell me,” she suggests, “I need to focus.”

“That’s fair,” he hums, “don’t mess up.”

“Babe, please.”

“Sorry.”

She smiles lopsidedly, still not taking her eyes off the wound. Peter let out a small sigh, admiring her sharp focus and attentive expression.

“I can see the bullet, it’s not deep,” Michelle observes after a minute.

“Okay,” he speaks calmly, “then you’re going to-“

He cuts himself off as she visibly shudders. Peter frowns then realizes that the reality of pulling a bloody bullet out of her husband has just sunk in.

“It’s okay,” he assures, “you’ll be alright.”

“How do you know that?” She hisses disbelievingly.

“I’ve done it two or three times,” he shrugs, “and if I can do it-“

“Who’ve you pulled a bullet out of?”

“Cindy once and myself two times— yeah, so three times.”

Michelle sits back on her heels and rubs her face with a heavy sigh. She pinches the bridge of her nose and squeezes her eyes shut.

“Are you about to sneeze?” Peter asks.

“No, dumbass,” she snaps, “I’m stressed out and trying to stop my brain from falling out of my face.”

“Oh,” he swallows thickly, tasting blood and vomit, “I’m sorry, the blood loss is getting to me.”

Michelle brushes a few loose strands of hair out of her face and huffs, “alright, we’re going to the hospital.”

“No!” Peter cries frantically as he lunges forward and grabs her hand.

Pain ignites his entire body and he freezes, eyes squeezed shut and expression twisted in agony. He squeezes her hand tightly and it’s almost painful, but she doesn’t pull away. She watches him with wide, worried eyes as she gently strokes the back of his hand, as if she can single-handedly ease away the pain.

“No hospitals,” Peter finally croaks out, his voice weak, “please.”

Michelle heaves a sigh and hesitantly nods, “okay… fine. No hospitals.”

He suspires in relief and brings her hand to his lips, kissing it lightly, “thank you, baby.”

She pauses, looking down at the bullet wound then asks: “now, tell me what to do.”

He smiles at her then begins relaying one step after another to her, being as detailed as he can and answering the few questions that she has. She works cautiously and gingerly, pausing when he hisses in pain and waiting for his permission to continue.

When Michelle finally does extract the bullet, coated in crimson and glimmering in the bright bathroom lights, she forces herself not to gag and drops it onto the bloody rag she used to clean Peter’s wound.

“Great job, baby,” Peter praises with a wobbly smile, “told you you’d be alright.”

“I’m never doing that again,” Michelle shudders, “next time we call Cindy or Gwen or anyone.”

He reaches forward and holds her hand and she presses her lips into a thin smile. Then she sighs, wipes off the wound again, and reaches for the needle and thread.

“Now for the easy part,” she hums.

“Yeah, you’re a pro at this,” Peter agrees as he lets go of her hand.

“Mhm. Now, what did you realize earlier?” Michelle asks, knowing Peter prefers to have his mind busy while getting stitched up.

He thinks a moment about how to word his realization, then says slowly: “everyone’s afraid to die young… but no one wants to be old.”

Michelle briefly glances up at him, “yeah, you’re absolutely right.”

“Like, if you die young it’s like… ‘oh they had so much life left in them’ and when you’re old, now you’re— not my words— ugly and helplessly whatever. And no one wants to be that, y’know?” He rambled, “and then there’s the other stuff that comes with being old, like potential illness, aches and pains— all that. But then if you die young, it’s- like- extra devastating or something because it’s normally really unexpected and sometimes— not always, but sometimes— you’re still in really good health and… and I don’t know.”

“There’s no balance,” Michelle finishes for him, “it’s never a good time to die. But if you live quote unquote ‘too long,’ then it’s not a good time to be alive.”

“Exactly. Or at least, that’s how it’s portrayed,” he flinches as the needle jabs him a little too harshly.

“Sorry,” Michelle mumbles.

“It’s okay,” he sighs. Then he goes quiet for a few moments, and when he does talk again, his voice is soft: “I… MJ, I don’t expect myself to live very long.”

He doesn’t say it sadly. It’s matter-of-fact, like a statement that he’s all too sure of. But even if his tone is calm, his words hit Michelle in the chest like a knife and she instantly finds herself swallowing back tears.

“Peter, don’t say that,” she urges.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true,” he says unapologetically, “I mean… it’s not like I want to die young I just feel like I will. And maybe that’s part of the reason why I don’t understand this- this stigma around getting really fucking old. Like, I hope I get so old I can barely walk.”

Michelle hesitates, “… I hope you do too. I just… I really wanna get old with you.”

He nods, “I do, too.”

“Also, I feel like when you get old, there’s less pressure to look good, y’know?” Michelle begins to think, “like, once you reach a certain point, people kinda except that you’re never gonna look as good as you did when you were twenty or whatever. No one really cares to— or wants to— try getting you to dress in something super flattering or skimpy or pressure you into wearing a lot of make up. You can just wear weird grandma clothes and never touch mascara again if you don’t want to. Y’know?”

“To an extent,” Peter replies, “but I am— obviously— male, and the same standards don’t apply to me.”

She chuckles, “that’s my husband.”

“Yes I am,” he grins, “but I kinda get what you’re saying. I mean, the more physically fit a man is, the more and ‘masculine’ they are, the more acceptable they are by society’s standards. Being old, no one cares and you can just be all shriveled up and… floppy.”

Michelle stops what she’s doing to laugh and Peter lets out a short laugh, before gasping at the pain. Michelle pauses and looks at him with wide, worried eyes.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

He chews on his cheek and nods slightly, “yep. I’m great.”

She sighs and continues, “similar thing goes for women. When you’re really old it doesn’t matter if you have a nice ass or boobs or whatever. Everything can just sag.”

He smiles, “being old sounds fucking awesome. Fuck society, honest. We’ll be lucky to get gross and old.”

She beams at him then leans forward and kisses his forehead, “yes, we will.”

Then, she ties off the stitches and cuts the thread and wraps a bandage around his torso. He thanks her then kisses her sweetly and thanks her again. She helps him stand up and lets his spider suit fall to the ground, then she tosses it in the bathtub— she’ll clean it later. Then she helps him limp to bed where he gingerly dresses himself in a pair of sweatpants with his wife’s assistance then finds himself in too much pain to try putting a shirt on.

They lay together that night, Michelle reading a book— Chaos Walking Book Three: Monsters of Men— trying to keep her mind away from the place it’s tempted to travel: Peter’s inevitable death. Although, a book about war and death isn’t exactly helpful. Especially not as she reads the sorrows of a “Spackle.”

“I should not be alone…. My one in particular should be here with me…. But my one in particular is not here. Because my one in particular was killed…. brought down by a heavy blade. I way dragged away…. Hated them for not letting me die there and then, when my grief was not quite enough to kill me on its own…”

“Peter, what happens if you die young?” Michelle asks suddenly, snapping the book shut.

Peter looks up from his own book and looks at the one in her hands, “you just lost your page,” he says.

“Please answer the question,” she begs, her voice now wavering.

Peter draws in a deep breath, his gaze trailing away from her as he speaks slowly, “I guess… I guess I’ll be grateful for the years I did have.”

“I mean what happens to me?” She almost demands it, but the distress in her voice is clear and forces Peter to meet her gaze again.

He’s quiet for a few beats, listening to the anxious rhythm of Michelle’s heart and her uneven, nervous breaths. Michelle watches him, hiding her impatience as she’s eager for a response.

“I think…” he finally says, “I think that we shouldn’t think about that. Maybe just… focus on the present and take things one step at a time.”

Michelle chokes back a sob and snaps, “but what am I going to do?”

“I don’t know!” Peter cries exasperatedly, “I know that’s not the answer you want, but I have no fucking idea, and y’know what? That scares me, ‘cause I hate the idea of you being alone!” He pauses and heaves a sigh and sinks into his pillows, “I’m sorry, Em,” his voice is softer now, “I really don’t know…. And I really don’t want to think about it.”

Michelle chews on the inside of her cheek silently, wiping away a tear before it can fall. Peter lets out a shaky breath and looks away, unable to meet her broken gaze.

Michelle isn’t sure how long they’re quiet for, but she slowly feels the knots in her stomach unwind and her clenched heart begins to relax as she gazes at her husband. Her shoulders go from tense to slouched as she takes in his big brown eyes and the freckles that litter his cheeks and his chestnut curls that fall over his forehead.

He’s here, she thinks, he’s here now, let’s just focus on that.

She leans forward and kisses his cheek lightly, “we’ll get old if we’re lucky,” she says simply, “for now, we can do what you said: take things one step at a time.”

Peter looks at her and smiles warmly, “I like that plan.”

He holds the back of her neck in the palm of his hand and draws her into a deep, loving kiss. She sinks into his touch, cupping his face with her hand and gently stroking his cheek with her thumb.

“I love you, Em,” Peter mutters to her as he ousts himself from the kiss.

“I know,” she replies, curling up against his side and resting her head on his chest, “I love you too.”

#peter parker #spiderman #michelle jones #mj #spideychelle #petermj #marvel #mcu #avengers #whump #fluff #angst #Fanfic #fanfiction #ao3

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imnotcallingyouawriter · 3 years

Text

Affluenza - lee donghyuck

Pairing: Rich!Haechan x Reader

Genre: Rich!au, Angst, Fluff, Friends to lovers!au, College!au

Length: 4.8K

Warnings: Slight drug use, Alcohol use, Swearing

Summary:

a/n: First fic!! please tell me what you think. I’m basing this off of the song ‘Affluenza’ by Conan Gray, absolutely great song you should listen to it.

♪⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓♪

Ain’t it funny, honey

When you get what you need

Baby, life is a breeze

Instead of having the tranquil morning that you had expected to have, you are currently having your earbuds pulled out by your old friend Donghyuck. Today you decided to walk to school instead of taking the bus, planning ahead to grab an iced coffee and get to class as early as you could. Unfortunately, Donghyuck found you after you bought your coffee and decided it was a good idea to jump on you. Now your coffee is on the sidewalk, one of your earbuds is in Donghyuck’s hand and he is smiling wildly at you.

“What the hell Donghyuck?!” You yell at him while you snatch your earbud away from him. You look down at your now spilled iced vanilla latte on the concrete, sadness overcoming your body as you slump your shoulders so Donghyuck can realize what he’s done.

“Ah shit I'm sorry! I didn’t see it in your hands. I’ll buy you a new one right now I promise.”

“Don’t Donghyuck, I’ll be fine. What do you want anyway?” You begin walking again while the apologetic boy continues to follow you through the school's parking lot. Donghyuck knew what your answer was going to be even before you responded, that’s what you would always say when he tries to pay for something.

In your four years of being his best friend, you had never agreed for him to pay for anything. And Donghyuck knows why, feeling as if you would be relying on somebody else when you don’t need to. But he wished that sometimes you would break and he could at least pay for your coffee. He feels as if you had been his rock for the past four years and you get nothing in return, but that was not the case in your eyes. Although there are some cons of being Donghyuck’s friend, it’s nothing that will make you leave him. There will always be people trying to use you to get to Donghyuck because of his reputation around the school, but it never mattered to you. Something that he was incredibly thankful for.

Donghyuck is friends with the wealthier kids of the school, all coming from their parents very successful jobs are businesses. Most of them you don’t associate yourself with, especially since they see themselves as untouchable. But there were a couple you got along well with, those two being Zhong Chenle and Na Jaemin, even though they have very heavy pockets they never let it go to their heads. Which is exactly why you are still friends with Donghyuck. He knows that the money everyone wants from him is mainly his parents' money.

“Well, I'm having a party tonight at my house, I was wondering if you wanted to come?” He gazes at you with hopeful eyes, again already knowing your answer to his question but hoping you would finally change your mind. You look at him with an obvious expression, Donghyuck confirming his suspicions immediately.

“Donghyuck you know I’m not gonna come, as much as I love you I don’t love your friends.” you loop your arm through his and chuckle softly as the two of you walk through the school doors. It was a well-known fact that you weren’t too fond of his friends. Other than Chenle and Jaemin, Donghyuck’s friend group made sure to exclude and pick you out of the group. And as much as he hates the way his so-called friends treat you, he can’t get rid of them. All the people he surrounds himself around are the children of his parents' friends, forcing him to be around them to please his parents.

“But Chenle and Jaemin are gonna be there! Please just this once, I’ll stop asking to pay for stuff if you come,” He tries to reason with you but your answer doesn’t change.

“As satisfying as that sounds, I’d rather spare my self-esteem for an extra day,” Donghyuck pouts at your answer, knowing that you meant what you said. The pair walk to a vending machine and you grab your money from your bag to buy a water bottle.

“I wish I could ditch them, I really do, but you know how my parents are. I’ll save you some food if you decide to show up.” You nod, not really paying attention to the boy beside you, he says this every time you deny his pleas to come to a party.

“I know Hyuck, do I need to remind you I don’t care? As long as we’re still friends, they can pick me apart as much as they want. Also, you don’t need to walk me to the bus stop today, I’m getting food with Jisung after school.” Donghyuck’s chest tightened at the mention of the younger boy's name. Jisung is one of your only other friends at your school. You two stuck together when he asked you for help to his class, building a younger brother older sister relationship overtime. Although Donghyuck knew that fact of yours and Jisung’s relationship, he couldn’t help but feel jealous of him.

Something that you didn’t know was that Donghyuck had a massive crush on you for the past two years. After finally finding someone that didn’t want to be his friend because of his parents' money, he fell for your carefree personality and your dependability. Donghyuck always came to you when he had a problem, mainly for his parents’ relationship. In the public eye they were the picture perfect family, but behind closed doors the love between his parents does not exist anymore. His parents became so in love with money that they fell out of love with each other, finding comfort in other people instead. Because of this, Donghyuck never had the warm love of a parent around him throughout his life. Even though they both kept in touch with him after he moved out for college, it never fulfilled his desire for love. And that’s where you came into his life, giving him the warmth and love of a genuine friend when he needed it the most.

You two met at the end of freshman orientation, while everyone started circling around Donghyuck because of his family’s reputation. You made conversation with a couple others around you. You bid goodbye to the people you were talking to and began to walk out of the classroom. That was until Donghyuck ran into your back because he tripped on his shoe. You lunged forward and quickly stopped yourself before turning around to see who bumped into you. A boy with light brown hair looking at you with panic in his eyes, you chuckle at his expression and give him a small smile to reassure him.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to bump into you, I swear.” He apologizes frantically to the gorgeous girl in front of him. Donghyuck was trying to get away from the people that tried to crowd him with questions about his money, making up a dumb excuse to leave the room as soon as possible.

“It’s alright, you can make it up to me by trying not to bump into anyone else today.” You joke with the boy in front of you and turn around to leave the classroom. Donghyuck’s face is covered in a light blush, flustered with the girl's comment as he subconsciously follows her out.

“Uh, what’s your name?” And that’s how your friendship began. Donghyuck wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk to him after he ran into you, but the conversation flowed casually as the both of you walked down the hall.

“Donghyuck, are you still there? I’m at my class. You can go now.” you laugh at his hazy state while he shakes his head of the fond memory. He looks at you and opens his arms wide, waiting for his daily hug. You walk toward him and wrap your arms around his torso, Donghyuck’s arms engulf your frame while he puts his nose in your hair. He has become accustomed to the scent of your hair putting himself in a trance, coconuts and oranges became his favorite scent after he met you.

“Tell Jisung I said I’m better than him.” He feels your head nod in his chest before he lets you go so you can enter class. You wave goodbye and disappear into the room while Donghyuck sighs helplessly at himself. He walks away from your classroom, pulling his phone out of his pocket to look at his lock screen. It’s a picture of the two of you from your birthday a couple years back, Donghyuck holding your face by your chin while the both of you smile goofily. His heart stutters at just the sight of you two together, both in disappointment and in happiness, you being the only thing in the world he feels like he can’t have.

You threw a party but you kinda

Hate all your friends

So you’re crying in a drive-way

Killing time, getting high

Can’t wait ‘til it ends

You sit across from your younger friend, both having empty servings of cup ramen from the convenience store and dalgona coffees. Jisung is telling you about his day, currently nagging about his new workload as a new sophomore in college, wishing he was a freshman again. You nod along to his dialogue while you swirl your coffee with your straw, not focusing on what he’s really saying.

“I can tell you’re not listening, a cookie for your thoughts?” Jisung asks while he slides you a couple extra bucks for the mentioned cookie. You slide his money back towards him, declining his offer but being grateful as well.

“I don’t know, Donghyuck always asks me to show up to his parties and I always say no but I think I'm starting to feel bad, you know?” You take a sip of your coffee before continuing, glad that you could get another one after this morning’s accident. “I feel like I’m not being a good enough friend to him. But he knows how badly I get along with the people he hangs out with, there’s just this weird feeling in my chest whenever he brings them and his parents up.” You finish your rant to Jisung while he takes in the rest of it.

“In my opinion, I think it’s because you know that they’re bad for him and he knows too.” You agree with him with an affirmative hum, getting ready to leave the little coffee shop you were at. You two throw away your trash and exit the shop, the chilly breeze of fall finally getting to you.

“I just really don’t want him to get hurt Ji, I care for him way too much to lose him to a bunch of pretentious pricks.” You gently kick a rock in front of you while you two approach the bus stop. Jisung furrows his eyebrows in confusion, wondering if he should say what’s on his mind.

“I don’t know if it’s just me, but it kinda sounds like you have feelings for Donghyuck. And I get that you are very protective over your friends and that you care a lot about us. Although, if you do like him that way you should give it a shot, I’m pretty sure he likes you too.” Jisung waves goodbye as he boards his bus to go home while you sit on his words a little longer. You will not shut down the idea of having feelings for your best friend, Donghyuck is a very attractive person. With his constant willingness to help you and his naturally funny personality, have you weak in the knees every once in a while. Getting up from your spot on the freezing cold metal of the bus stop, you start to walk in the direction of Donghyuck’s house. Remembering to pay Jisung back for being a good friend and for you to become a better one to him.

Only a streetlight away from your best friend's house, you notice a figure sitting on the driveway of the very loud house behind them. Once you’re closer to his house, you see that the figure in the driveway is actually Donghyuck himself, a beer on the right side of him and a poorly wrapped joint in his left hand.

“Hey, what’s the host doing sitting alone at his own party?” You ask in a soft voice, seeing that his eyes were cloudy and puffy, seemingly from him crying. He looks up to see you, smiling softly at him while you sit next to him, taking his beer and having a sip from it.

“Chenle and Jaemin ended up not showing up. School got in the way so they couldn’t come. I hate everyone else in the house, so I decided to be by myself.” He looks to the side to look at his crush, fingertips a little red and smoke coming out of your mouth from the cold. You turn to lock eyes with him and smile warmly at him, your hands coming up to grab the joint from his hand to throw away later.

“When did you start smoking, Hyuck? This isn’t like you.” You frown slightly at the choice he was deciding to make when he shook his head.

“I don’t, someone gave it to me before I left. I’m glad you showed up, I could need an actual friend right about now.” He chuckles at his sadness, hands coming up to cover his face. “My mom found someone she loved more than money finally, it’s not my dad though. They’re filing for a divorce now, and I seem to be the only one that’s actually upset by this. Sometimes I feel like they only stayed married because of me, and they’re finally getting their wish now that I’m out of their way.” Donghyuck finishes his rant with a big swig of his beer, setting it in between the two of you as he feels his eyes beginning to water. You notice that his hands shook slightly from the upsetting news and the chilling air of the night.

“Hey, they didn’t stay together because of you Hyuck, okay? They stayed together because they knew they would make more money that way. You aren’t at fault, you just so happened to be caught up in their mess, you get that?” You grab his hands and lay your head on his shoulder for comfort. He nods his head slowly, a tear quickly falling down his red cheeks. You look back up at him to wipe his tears away, holding his face in your hands. “You aren’t at fault here Hyuck, I really want you to understand that. You are so much more than them, you are an incredible person. Although you are a little bitch sometimes, you’ll always be my best friend.” Donghyuck laughs at your backhanded compliment and leans his forehead against yours. Your face flushes at his action but you don’t reject it, you guys have been close for so long that his random affection doesn’t really affect you.

At this moment in time, Donghyuck knew that he didn’t just like you, he loved you. He wanted to tell you he loved you to the moon and back, that if you asked him to run across the world to prove his love, he would take off. But he knew that the moment didn’t feel right, confessing his love right after he told you about his family’s failing relationship. Before he could lift his head up the front door opens, revealing Sooyoung -Although she adamantly wants people to call her Joy- and Sehun. Sooyoung and Sehun are the two most expensive people in the school, or at least that’s what everyone says, and are also the two that like to annoy you the most. The pair saw you guys sitting together in the driveway, heads and hands together, and started their chaos.

“Oh, look who it is, Haechan’s little fuck buddy decided to pay us a visit.” Sooyoung sneers while she approaches you two. Sehun walks towards Donghyuck, throwing his half used joint dangerously close to your friend's jeans. Donghyuck pulls the both of you up and away from Sooyoung and Sehun, the pair laughing at his protectiveness.

“What do you guys want, just go back inside, I’ll be back soon.” Donghyuck mutters towards his guests. As much as he wants to tell them off for the comment Sooyoung made towards you, he kept his mouth shut, knowing his response would go back to his parents.

“You don’t need to hangout with her anymore Haechan, there are better girls in your house. You know, the girls that your parents actually approve of, I wonder how they would feel if someone told them you were dating a girl like her.” Sooyoung looks you up and down in disgust and you scoff. You walk up to her in frustration, meeting each other's eyes in a rage.

“And what the hell is a girl like me, Sooyoung?” She flares her nostrils from you, saying her actual name, and she straightens up her posture to seem like the bigger person.

“A little whore who won’t accept that she’s poor, so instead she insists that she’s fine to people that are better than her. I mean, why would you even keep Haechan around? Just to tell yourself that you don’t need him? Admit it, darling, you’re struggling.” Your eyes water and your hands shake from the mortification of her bold -and incorrect- statement. Donghyuck comes up to pull you away, but you push his arms away from you.

“Oh yeah?, I would rather be ‘struggling’ like you think I am than living my life for other fucking people. Everything you have and do is for your damn parent’s, at least mine actually fucking care for me.” As soon as you finish your sentence, a swift slap goes across your face. Donghyuck immediately comes up to you, checking your face for any marks. You apologize to him for the things you’ve said, assuming that saying that essentially his parents don’t care for him hurt him in some way. “I have to go Hyuck, I’m sorry.” You pull his hands off of your face and begin to walk to the bus stop, leaving Donghyuck alone with the obviously pissed off girl and her stoned confused friend.

“You’re just gonna let her talk to us like that? She insulted our families Haechan-”

“Stop calling me that, Sooyoung. My name is Donghyuck, Lee Donghyuck, and my family does not control me anymore, I do. The party’s fucking over, leave my fucking house you self-centered pricks.” Donghyuck wipes his pants of the imaginary dust and gives the pair a farewell middle finger before taking off to the bus stop.

Crystal liquor cups and designer drugs, oh, oh

They say, "Money can't buy you no love"

But a diamond cheers you right up

Hearing the fast footsteps of your best friend coming up to you at the poorly lit bus stop startled you, especially at such a late hour. You were waiting for Jisung to pick you up with his parents' car, him still living with his parents came with a perk, as he would say. And Jisung is kind enough to use his ‘you only get to use my car once a month’ privilege on you instead of getting late night beef flavored ramen at the 24-hour convenience store. You look up at the panting boy, him folding forward to catch his breath before catching your gaze.

“Why did you leave? You know that they were just being pricks.” Donghyuck comes to sit next to you, slightly flinching at the cold metal before settling close next to you. You look at him with sadness in your eyes, he notices this and grabs your hands as a sign to show that he’s listening.

“It doesn’t matter if I was right or not Donghyuck, I still said something that wasn’t true. I was just caught up in the moment and said stupid shit I didn’t mean. Me saying what I said meant that it applied to you too.” you look down at your shoes and softly take your hands out of Donghyuck’s numb ones. He sighs out of frustration, attempts to psych himself up and tilts your head towards his, both hands on each side of your face. You feel yourself begin to heat up in the face, hoping he didn’t notice by your face already being slightly red.

“I don’t care how people see my family anymore, okay? You were right anyway, my parents never really cared like they should’ve. But that’s alright now, because you’re with me and you’ve made me a better person than they will ever be. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Donghyuck gives you a small smile and you smile back at him. Looking at him like this, you notice something. His eyes have this beautiful sparkle to them. The sparkle you always see when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about, or a new prank he’s planning on Jisung. It’s one of your favorite things about him, when you get to see his true self come out when it’s just the two of you. That raw, child like attitude Donghyuck has always had, and you get to see it every day.

It makes you rethink your friendship, was it really just a friendship? Or have these past three years been a buildup to some huge spark of romance? Regardless of what it was, you felt that this park of romance was about to happen, and so did Donghyuck. His eyes flickered between your lips and your eyes, getting distracted by the extra light shining by your mouth.

“Donghyuck, I think I like you.” Those words confirmed the hope he has had for the entire time he’s known you. His smile grows even wider than you’ve seen before, him leaning closer to you and placing his forehead on yours just like at his house.

“I like you too, dummy. C-can I kiss you?” Donghyuck stutters and looks you in the eyes, that stunning sparkle coming back. You place your hands around his neck and whisper a small yes. The kiss wasn’t magical like in the trashy rom coms you and Donghyuck watched every Sunday night at your place, but it felt real. His cold and slightly dry lips from the air nipping at them throughout the night, and yours weren’t an exception either. They molded perfectly, like they were made for each other. The kiss would have probably escalated further, if it weren’t for Jisung and his trusty sidekick-the horn. You two jump apart at the sound of his car horn and turn around to see a very large shit-eating grin from the younger boy.

“As much as I love seeing you two being all lovey-dovey with each other, I didn’t get gas before I came, so unless you want to us to get stuck in the middle of the night I suggest you say your goodbyes right now.” You chuckle as he quickly sneaks a glance at the gas , if his parents find out that he was driving practically on ‘E’, they would revoke his car privileges. You let go of each other and begin to walk to Jisung’s car. You turn to Donghyuck quickly, running back to give him a small kiss on his cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning, maybe we can watch a movie tomorrow instead of Sunday.” and with that you open up the passenger’s side and get in, waving a goodbye to him before Jisung took off. Donghyuck stands there, smiling like a madman with a hand touching his cheek.

Give me none of your affluenza

The next day Donghyuck felt generous, so he decided to be the bigger person and let Jisung hang out with you and him. You had told him that morning when you met up that you felt bad that Jisung catered to you and you feel as if you were taking advantage of him. And knowing you, he knew you weren’t going to stop talking about it. Being the good soon-to-be boyfriend that he is, Donghyuck took you and Jisung out to eat for lunch. Jisung is eating to his heart’s content, babbling pure nonsense to your amusement, while Donghyuck looks at you like you were the sun itself. After indulging in Jisungs’ food happiness, you turn to the boy next to you to see him still gazing at you.

“What’s up, Hyuck?” you give a slight grin while a light blush spreads across your face. He doesn’t break his eye contact with you to give you a quick peck on the lips.

“My mood is up because of you” You snort at the terrible pick-up line and turn away from him, taking a sip of your iced vanilla latte. Donghyuck scoffs at your reaction, looking towards Jisung to see him laughing too. For the first time in a while, Donghyuck feels as if he is around people that like him for him. He sees you interact with Jisung as if he’s your brother. Although you feel like you don’t do enough for him, Donghyuck notices how much you truly care for him. You always have Jisung in your mind, thinking about his well being and how you can help him get through college. You’ve never thought of someone differently because of irrelevant things in someone’s life that they can’t control. You never saw Jaemin or Chenle better than you because of their class, and you never Jisung as inferior because of his age. And as much as Donghyuck hates to admit it, he does appreciate Jisung’s presence when he’s with you, Jisung doesn’t like to hold back when he’s around.

Donghyuck also appreciates how genuine you and your friends are, you don’t have many but that also makes sure that the ones you have are true friends. Donghyuck never feels alone when he’s with you and Jisung. When he would be with the group of pessimistic aspiring socialites, he constantly felt as if he was in a cold empty room. Even in his own home, when his parents would be around, he didn’t feel like he could be himself around them. While you’re in the middle of your rant to Jisung about your professor assigning an essay and group project -which you are happy to announce that you snagged Donghyuck before anyone even asked- he grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours. You turn to him again, squeezing his hand with a confused look on your face.

“Are you craving attention, Hyuck? All you need to do is ask.” You tease him, but he just buries his head into your covered collarbone. He takes in the scent of your perfume, the warm honey taking over his senses.

“I just want you to know that I appreciate you, thank you for sticking with me even when the people I was around treated you poorly.” Jisung stops his chopsticks before his spicy tteokbokki hit his lips, looking up at the two across from him. You lay your head atop of Donghyucks, closing your eyes in contentment.

“And I appreciate you for not losing yourself in the process Hyuck, never change, okay?” He nods slightly and kisses your sweater clad collarbone. Jisung aw’s incredibly loud, turning heads in the quiet restaurant they were in and attempts to hug the two across the table. You make him sit down -because he almost knocked over your coffee- but appreciate the kind act from the large child. Donghyuck playfully scowls at Jisung at his somewhat failed hug.

“Get away from my girlfriend, you man child.” he jokes and wraps his arm loosely around your waist and closes his eyes. He had already realized he called you his girlfriend, he just wanted to see how you would react. You let out a hearty laugh and send a quick finger heart to Jisung.

“Yeah man child get away from Donghyuck’s girlfriend.” Jisung lets out an exasperated gasp, clutching his heart with a disgusted look on his face. You feel Donghyuck smile in your sweater, but you don’t spot his cheeks becoming a flaming red.

“I’ve done nothing but support you idiots, and this is what I get? I’m never picking you up when you need me again.” He crosses his arms as to solidify his claim, yet you brush him off anyway.

“I won’t need to Ji, my boyfriend has his own car, I don’t remember you owning a car Jisung Park.” You retaliate and Donghyuck laughs at your friend’s painful scoff. Now, while Jisung continues to tell the two of you off, Donghyuck realized that he didn’t actually ask you out. But he pushes that thought to the back of his head to relish in the fact that he finally has you now. And he now feels as if he can finally live the life he truly wants to, starting with you becoming his girlfriend, and finding a fresh way to annoy Jisung Park.

#NCT #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct dream #nct haechan #lee donghyuck #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #lee haechan #haechan x reader

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jacepens · 3 years

Note

Hey, how u doing? I wanted to ask for you for indications on washette fanfics, what are the best that you have

p.s. and yes, I do want to hear as well about yours in that list as well, 'cause they're gold

Hey! I'm doing alright:) Thanks for asking! What about you? (is this the correct tumblr to anon etiquette?)

Oh goodness this is such a loaded question because the answer is many. I hope you're alright with a big list sorted by category <3

Fluff! Fluff!!

The French Mistake

One of the first washette fics I read, so it holds a special place in my heart. A little silly, a little lams, ultimately very cute and good time.

Under the Arches of Moonlight and Sky

Just very good, cute, soft weary bed sharing. (this is only wholesome, I swear)

Let's Dance

Short, sweet fic with dance instructor George and our beloved two left feet Laf:)

I Like You Better in Real Life

Did someone say Influencer/Youtuber!Laf and President!George?? No??! Well start and read this fic. Seriously, it's a longer one, and just really damn cute. A bit of slow burn in terms of internalized homophobia (done in a good way) and trans Laf?? Yes. It's really so good.

The Prince

Ok, ok, it's one of mine. The one chapter is deceiving, it's decently long and featuring Prince!Laf and Royal Knight!George!:) Also magic!! angst, fluff, denial of feelings but then of course love confessions;) after angst though, don't worry haha.

Fathoms and Foundlings

Ooooohh boy. This. This one. Mermaid Laf and regular ol George! So so so well written, I mean, the feelings, the war, the weather, literally everything you can name, it's spectacular in this fic. Be warned, it is incomplete, but I remember when the latest chapter was released when I lost all hope (plus the author is still active) so I definitely don't count this one out of being updated!:) But, I'll be honest, I'm unsure about it being finished BUT I still think you should 1000% read this because you really will not find something like it anywhere else and it's just so cute!! Did I mention fucking amazing?

Whom can we trust now?

Platonic washette!! Really well written and just altogether really well put together!:) comfort after Arnold's betrayal! Seriously, I highly recommend this fic it's just so perfect of their relationship and cuuute.

The Particulars of Language

Oh goodness. Oooh goodness. This is so so cute. A nice little blend of angst and fluff and did I mention internalized homophobia? (In a good way, if that makes sense) Also so well-written by an incredible author, I just- language confusion. Need I say more??

Marque

Ok, ok, it's been too long since I read this one, so I will say, it is very tentatively going in this category. I just love soulmate au washette! Angst! Kidnapping? ...no final chapter. So I'm not sure, it could've been planned on ending very happy and fluffy! I do believe overall, this leans on the darker side, but I know I really love this one and they love each other. I want more washette soulmate aus.

Breaks your heart, puts it back together

what's my name, what's my station

Oh God oh fuck it's this one. (said with love). Brutal? Hot? Expanding my vocabulary?? An incredibly beautiful use of metaphors??? Actually feel like crying when I read it. Yeah. This is amazing.

May the Melody Disarm Us

Oh Godd oh Fuck it's this one. (maybe I should change this section's title) this one isn't even angsty per se, it's just like...brutally beautiful. They love each so much but oh my god. The metaphors, the way the author sets the scene and environment and everything! Ugh. So so good.

Let Down My Guard

Oh dear lord in heaven above preserve me. I'm gonna be dramatic but there are simply not enough words in the universe I have that can describe how I feel about this fic and how damn incredible it is!! And boy do I mean it when I say this one breaks your heart and puts it back together. I have seriously never sobbed over any piece of fiction like I did this. Just ahhhh. The feelings they develop for each other, the confusion of cultures, the secrets revealed?? I didn't even tell you Laf is a mermaid yet. Just- please. Please read this. It will rip your heart out, but it will put it back together. But really, this is just a fucking masterpiece and so so beautiful.

Porn With Plot

that dress you like

Very nicely done smut + feels! (Did I mention how nicely it's all done?) Oh! Did I mention genderqueer Laf? Yes.

Mon General / My Marquis

Ok the only reason this is going in this category is because I find the others up there more heart-breaky than this one. I love this one!! The historical details! Their loving relationship!! Very very good and lovely. With some angst of course.

The Mistranslation

Oh God oh Fuck it's this one. (I'll be saying that a lot). Would you like all these categories put into one beautiful fic?? Here it is, here. It's incredible. Please read it. It's free serotonin. (Did I mention incredibly written??)

The Things I Would Do to You

Ahhh ok. So. Super duper sweet, lots of angst sprinkled throughout but Laf's visit to Mount Vernon + feels + (smut). Need I say more??! Seriously, this is wonderful.

Not So Easy to be the Teacher's Pet

Oh. Oh god it's this one. So this is borderline Oof (Laf is 17) but if that does not bother you, then you are in for a treat!(??) Ok but really, lots of feels, denial of feelings, way-too-sweet-for-his-own-good Lafayette and poor confused George. Just fantastic.

Devil to Pay

Hoooo boy. If you like pirates or sea adventures, (hot pirate captains. I'm just gonna say it) then I'm literally begging you to read this. Kidnapped noble Laf?? Slowly falling for the pirate captain Washington?? Not to mention so many maritime details and wonderful emotions, beautifully crafted just. Spectacular. Please, read it if you haven't. Even if pirates don't appeal to you, they will after this fic.

A secret weapon

Ahhhh!!! Thiiiiiis. Is everything. Ok, yes, it includes more than washette, but I mean come on, it's (sexy) demons. It's desperate Washington trying to win a war and fight his gay feelings (guess which fight he wins?) But also, super well written and detailed and feels!! I adore this fic, and the whole series is a treat. Go read it. It's wonderful, you won't regret it.

Oof (not in a good way)

The Sweet Enjoyment of Partaking

If the not-so-sweet side intrigues you more, this is one of the few washette fics that I do love and is...not so nice. It's really good as a not nice piece! Pretty straightforward and fucked up. Ya (I) love to see it.

Transmutation

Oooohhhhhh. This is a fic I didn't read for a while just because I didn't know what it was but boy let me tell you, it is soo good. I'll say it's not as oof as the fic above, but oooh maaaannnnn. I don't know how to describe it just, don't expect sweet things, but if darker takes are your thing please go read this. You will not regret it. It's so damn good.

Day One Way, By Night Another

Ok ok here me out. This one might seem a bit random and it is. It's very short and for the longest time I didn't read it until I did and said ow because ow!!? I find this has the most impact going in unarmed so...watch out. (but like check it out. it's just so unique I really do love it)

Once More, With Feeling

Oh GOD. This one is quite brief and straightforward but if you are looking to rip your heart out with feels and angst then boy do I have the perfect fic for you. But seriously, it's so well-written and just expresses all the feelings so so perfectly. But at what cost? (Pls read it)

A Beautiful Tragedy

Hello darkness my old friend. Ok but seriously, this fic still remains so impactful in my own mind just as the writer. It's not a happy ending, but I try to leave you with hope. Pretty music that I highly recommend listening to, I don't know. I think it's really good, I don't say that often about my own stuff soo if you're ok with heavy amounts of angst and pretty aesthetics then check this ok!:) (but guard your heart, sorry not sorry<3)

Porn Without Plot

Betrayals and Allies

So, admittedly, this one very tentatively goes into this category because I find compared to the others, this one has less feels and less focus on it, but don't get me wrong this is very emotional!! It displays their relationship and love so cutely (and smutily..? new word) and as extra bonus it fills in the gaps of the deleted scene from Turn. You know the one;) It's very good!!

Cold Nights

Look at me adding another of my own. This is super duper short, but I kinda like how the emotions turned out. I think this was the beginning of my first dive into my current style of writing so that's cool I guess? But yeah no, it's porn without plot lol.

What Good is Honor When You're Starving?

Oh dear, another of mine in this category. I barely put this here, but the main focus is on the smut, but there are many many feels aplenty. Oh wait, did I mention vampire Laf? George definitely not falling in love... but really, I like how this one turned out!:) Good sexy vampire times (with feelings)

Ah wow! You stuck with me! Thank you! I...tried to keep it brief. This is not an exhaustive list by any means btw, there were a few (many) I decided to cut because I wanted this list to be all encompassing of many authors, styles, etc.

But anon, thank you for the ask and giving me the chance to rant about my favorite fics! My apologies on taking so long to finish, I hope you can understand my life has been a little hectic, but I always try to make time for washette;)

Thank you!!<3

#asks #anon #washette #tal's recommedations #fic recommendation

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r0zyp0zy0zy · 3 years

Note

Hi!! I’m new to the Haikyuu fandom but Kageyama is my favorite so far!! Can you do numbers 20 and 24 with him please? Thank you in advance! 🧡🖤

Haikyuu!! Prompt list trial

HQ!! Prompt list

Thanks for requesting! I’m also fairly new to the Haikyuu fandom <3

The other requests are in the works, they might just take a bit longer bc I’m swamped with school stuff! Happy reading :D

Words: 2400+

Warnings: possible weight trigger?, Kags calls you heavy 😔

Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x FEM!reader

Prompt(s): 20- "I didn't mean it like that, I was trying to... tease you. That's what you do, right? When you have feelings?" & 24- "don't leave me here with her/them!"

The mind of Kageyama was mostly a mystery; his skull hollow with a few volleyballs bouncing around. He wasn't the smartest to say the least— Have you seen his report card?

So, when his heart pumped 10x faster than when he was on the court when he was around you, he only thought he wasn't feeling well that day. Next was his voice; constantly stuttering for no apparent reason when he was chatting with you. Kageyama had not a clue what was going on with him until Tanaka spoke up for him, asking how long Kageyama was going to wait before asking you out. The boy in question just wrinkled his nose and went to toss another ball to an energetic redhead.

Nishinoya and Tanaka cornered the unsuspecting setter in the club room, trapping him with their looming auras. Kageyama only stared at them quizzically for a moment before a phone was shoved in his face.

"Look, dude, check out this article!" Tanaka grinned, raising his eyebrows.

"Is it about volleyball?" Kageyama asked as he threw on his uniform.

"No—"

"—don't wanna look at it then," Kageyama interrupted his upperclassmen, grabbing his bag and hoisting it over his shoulder.

"C'mon bro!" Argued Nishinoya, blocking the door with pure physics, clinging to the frame, "we just wanna help you get with y/n! This Wiki article will save you from your lack of social awareness around her."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kageyama mumbled, glancing at the phone pointed at him. It was titled: 'How to Flirt with Girls'. Now, he wasn't necessarily considering reading it, but it was tempting. "Why d'you want me to flirt with y/n? She's my friend."

"She's your crush is what she is. Are you really too dense to realize your feelings?" Tanaka said. "Actually- yeah. You are. Here, I'll text you the link."

Later that night when Kageyama was trying to sleep, his mind wandered in circles thinking about his feelings towards you. He didn't think he had time to develop a crush, but here he was pulling up his phone to check the link his upperclassman sent him. He squinted at the bright WikiHow screen, and scrolled down to read the captions. He glanced at the first three options, not really reading (or caring) about 'don't forget to smile!' and 'don't cross your arms'.

The only title that caught his eye was 'Tease Her'. Kageyama knew how to do that; it was easy. He did it with Hinata all the time! He blushed just thinking about making you flustered, a wish that he didn't know he had until tonight. He didn't bother with reading the rest of the article, feeling confident in himself that he knew what to do. He threw his phone back onto his nightstand and cuddled into his bedsheets, grinning wildly.

Tobio didn't know what he was getting into when he asked Tanaka and Nishinoya about the skill of teasing. He had only wanted a few pointers from the 'pros', and some advice on what to do after you were charmed by him.

"Oh ho ho!" Tanaka said excitedly, waving his hands around as he ranted. "Make sure to insult her playfully, but always tell her how beautiful she is afterwards! Oh, and don't forget about the lingering touches! Girls love that stuff, trust me."

Kageyama nodded along, turning to Nishinoya, "don't forget to smile! Girls love sweet smiles~."

The raven haired boy was practically buzzing with anticipation as he waited at the table he usually ate at with you, desperate to try out his new flirting techniques. He smiled at you, something he usually did but he tried making it brighter. He felt his chest bubble when you raised your eyebrows at him, giving a cute smile in return.

You were wondering what the hell was up with Kageyama. You knew he wasn't the best at smiling, but when he flashed his teeth it was just downright creepy. You tried not to laugh as you sat beside him, pulling out your lunch to sit on the table in front of you. A huff left your lips as Tobio snatched away your bento, raising it above his head with a playful smirk.

"Kageyama-kun," you raised a brow playfully. "You want me to starve or something?"

"Just watching your weight," he replied, grin still plastered on his face.

You deadpanned at him, giving him a scowl, "don't say stuff like that, it makes me feel like shit."

"You're still p-pr-er, P-p-pretty in my eyes," your friend stammered, his stance wavering. You lazily tried to grab your lunch back, but Tobio's long arms kept it out of your reach.

You sighed, giving him a teasing grin before reaching out and tickling his armpit. He choked out a laugh and your bento fell out of his hand, and you caught it. Kageyama gave you a frustrated pout and watched as you ate your food.

"Serves you right for calling me fat," you said through a mouthful, cringing at your manners, "that wasn't very nice."

"You're only heavy because of your muscle," Kageyama said, propping a fist on his cheek, "you'd be good at serving." You looked at him quizzically, trying to figure out what was up with him today.

"Y-your clothes look cool today," Tobio offered, trying to keep up with his 'flirtatious' act.

"... dude I literally wear the same thing every day. Y'know, my uniform," now you were really confused. Was he messing with you? Or was he just being his usual weird self?

A blush creeped onto his face and he looked away, burring his face in his own lunch. You ate in an odd silence, occasionally catching Kageyama taking glances at you.

"Y-you're, erm, very..." Tobio trailed off, refusing to look at you. His face was red with embarrassment and he stared at his empty lunchbox, tapping his fingers on the table rhythmically.

"Go on~," you pressed, glaring holes in his head.

Kageyama perked up suddenly, putting an arm around your shoulders, "you look heavy, let me hold it for you. Wait—."

"Ok, dude. What's up with you?!" You were getting pissed now, and you quickly packed up your bento. "I'm going to my class early."

Before he could stop you, you peeled his arm from your body and sped walked away into a bathroom. Kageyama blushed in frustration, cursing at his stupid twisted tongue. He couldn't believe he messed up the simplest pick up line, the one that Nishinoya had taught him. Maybe Tsukishima was right, he was going to scare you off before he could make a proper move. He groaned angrily into his hands and shoved his lunch container into his bag, huffing down the hall to get to his class.

You sunk down into your seat, trying not to let the interaction with Kageyama rule your mind. Was was up with him today? You thought. He was usually odd, but not this odd. You laid out your things in front of you and organized them to distract yourself. You slightly jumped at the sound of the first bell, and you heard the hallway outside start to get louder with footsteps and laughing chatter.

"Hi y/n-san!" Yamaguchi said, and you looked up at him.

"Hey," you mumbled.

"What's got you all grouchy?" Tsukishima chuckled as he sat by his desk beside yours.

"I'm sorry," you sighed, "Kageyama-kun was just being a dick during lunch."

"What'd he do?" Yamaguchi asked, sitting in his seat behind you. He gathered his notebook and pencil case.

"He was being really weird. Er, weirder than normal," you started. "He tried holding me back from my lunch and he basically called me fat. But then he said I was heavy because I had so much muscle? Which doesn't even make sense, and then he said I'd be good at setting which is— I mean ok?"

Tsukishima snickered from beside you as he opened his binder, and Yamaguchi blushed a little at his teammate's actions.

"And then he told me that my clothes looked nice. My uniform clothes, that I wear every day," you puzzled almost to yourself, forgetting that your friends were listening to your rant. "Oh, he also said like, I dunno, a pickup line or something? He said that 'I looked heavy and he wanted to hold 'it'' whatever the hell he was supposed to mean by that."

Tsukki had to shove a hand over his mouth to keep himself from combusting into boisterous laughter, Yamaguchi doing the same. You frowned and rolled your eyes, turning to look at the board as the second bell rang.

"The idiot's got a crush on you," Tsukishima spilled, chest shaking from the aftershocks of his laughter.

"W-wha—," you started.

"—Tsukki!" Yamaguchi interrupted. "You told me that you weren't gonna mess with Kageyama-kun's relationships!"

Tsukishima just shrugged before turning to the board, your eyes bulging at him. "He fucking what—."

"I know!" Tsukishima smirked, "I didn't think he had any emotion for anything but volleyball."

You opened your mouth to reply, but got cut off by your teacher. You frowned as you set up your notes, messily writing your name and the date. Kageyama's actions now made sense to you, knowing how awkward he is in expressing his feelings.

After class as you walked down the hall, Tsukishima sported a sly grin. You eyed him quizzically, not trusting the look in his eyes. He smirked harder at your glance and chuckled.

"I have a plan," the blonde said, pushing up his glasses. "I'm gonna shove Kageyama in the equipment room with you."

"And so I get a say in this at all?" You pressed, glaring playfully at him.

"Well, what do you say?" He asked.

"I say yes," you said, Yamaguchi facepalming at your response.

You followed the two boys down to the gym where they practiced, and waited by the door until Yamaguchi gave you the clear that no one was there yet except for the third years. Tsukishima led you to the double doors of the equipment room and you took a step inside the dark room, turning on your flashlight.

"If you hear an even three knocks, open the door immediately," you ordered, shaking slightly. "Incase he does something... weird," you faltered slightly, and Yamaguchi nodded quickly.

"Whatever," the tall blonde in front of you said, "just get in before he comes in the gym— oh, he's here."

The door was closed suddenly, and you were left alone with only your phone flashlight to protect you. You took a deep breath as you heard voices outside the heavy doors, trying to regulate your heartbeat. What were you doing? What was your plan after he gets trapped inside? The doors opened and filled the room with light for a brief moment before the space was consumed in darkness once again.

"Hey!" You heard Kageyama yell beside you, pounding on the door, "what the hell?!"

You laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and he whipped around to slap you away, faltering when he realized it was you. His eyes widened and he was glad you couldn't see the blush that flourished on his face. Kageyama was silent for a few moments before hammering at the door again.

"Guys! Don't leave me here with her!" He panicked when you pulled his hands away from the doors, and he went quiet.

"Calm down, Kageyama-kun," you stifled a giggle. "You're only here so you can apologize to me."

"W-what?" He stuttered, body going stiff.

"Just say sorry for offending me," you shrugged. His eyes were glued to the floor, hands still trapped by your grip.

"I- I thought... I didn't mean it like that, I was trying to... tease you. That's what you do, right? When you have feelings?" Kageyama's blush crawled across his whole face all the way to the tips of his ears and he squeezed his eyes shut, terrified of what your next words were going to be.

"So you do have a crush on me," you pondered, loosening your hold on his wrists. The boy in front of you snapped his hands to his sides and anxiously squeezed his fists.

"How...?" Kageyama held his breath, as if afraid of your answer.

"Hmm, a little birdie told me~," you teased, running a finger down his chest. His breath hitched in his throat and a shiver ran down his spine when he felt your hot breath whisper onto his ear, "I'm still waiting for your apology."

"I'm s-sor-sorry for what I s-said at lunch today..." Kageyama stammered, rubbing his arm awkwardly.

"I accept your apology!" You smiled and went in for a hug, crushing his arms to his sides. "Meet me after practice near the vending machines~," you murmured playfully.

"—what are you guys doing?!" Daichi's muffled yell came through the door. "You can't just trap people in there!"

Kageyama tensed and he tried to pull away, but you held him closer. The bright light from the gym poured into the small room, illuminating all of the equipment and yourselves.

"Are you oka— oh," Daichi cut himself off, eyes widening at the sight of a girl hugging his underclassman. You peaked at him over Kageyama's shoulder and gave a shy smile, pulling away slowly.

"Bye, Tobio-chan," you adjusted your bag and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "See you after your practice."

The group of boys watched in silence as you skipped your way out the gym door, too shocked to say anything. Kageyama's face grew hotter and he reached up to touch where you kissed him. He felt like he was going to pass out.

"Kageyamaaaaa!!" Hinata yelled, shaking his friend viciously, "was that your girlfriend?! Why didn't you tell us you had one?! She's so pretty! Why does she even like you?!"

"Chill out Hinata-kun," Daichi said sternly, pulling the redhead away by the back of his shirt. "Kageyama-kun, be ready for practice in five."

Tobio nodded slowly, his hand still on his cheek in bewilderment. He was too excited to tell Hinata off, completely blocking out his friend. He couldn't wait for practice to end.

#anime #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #hq anime #hq x reader #kageyama tobio #Kageyama Tobio x reader #Tobio Kageyama #Tobio Kageyama x reader

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mrsren · 3 years

Text

Tom/Hermione Blackmail AU 1

Sharing the first part of this here because I don’t have self-control, but I’m holding back from posting on AO3 until I’m ready to write it steadily. Onto the info/warnings.

I don’t have a summary, sorry to tell you. But I’ve got tags, which will probably give you a pretty good idea of what this story is about.

Tags: blackmail, co-workers, D/s elements, dub-con leaning more toward non-con depending how you feel about blackmail, degradation, humiliation. Most of these come out later on, but there’s a blanket warning.

Now onto the dirty stuff. Admittedly, there is no real smut in the first part, but there is so much sexual tension. It’s about 3k so it’s under the line. It hasn’t been edited, so sorry for the typos.

I would super love to hear what you think, whether that’s on the post, in my messages, or ask box!

At approximately ten past one o’clock, the door to her office swung open. Hermione didn’t raise her head when the handle twisted, when the door knocked against the wall a fraction too loud. Instead, she gestured to the corner of her desk, the only free space and not by much.

“Please leave it in the basket.”

“Do you always speak to the couriers so rudely?” The shadow fell over her desk, and Hermione grimaced before looking up. Tom Riddle peered down at her in the annoyingly irritating way only he had. As though he was sizing her up while simultaneously believing there was nothing to observe. “No need to answer. I’ve sat across from you in enough board meetings to know.”

Placing her quill back into the stand beside a newly opened jar of ink, Hermione folded her arms and gave no reaction. “Ha. How can I help you? Have you gotten lost? Your office is another two floors down, although your desire to be in the DMLE must have brought you here anyway. I hear Harry will be looking for a new secretary soon. Perhaps you’d be a good fit?”

Riddle narrowed his eyes, and his fingers clenched the parcels so roughly that they crinkled in his grip. “The funniest thing happened this morning. Somehow, your mail was delivered to me by mistake. A new courier,” he lamented. “I’m sure you can understand how easy it is to get turned around.” He was enjoying himself entirely too much.

And the slow grin stretching his lips couldn’t mean anything good. Immediately, Hermione’s stomach dropped and her palms grew sweaty. She leaned back in her chair, and rubbed them against her jeans beneath the desk. As she did, she felt his eyes follow the movement.

His lip curled at the sight of her muggle clothes. Riddle had always hated the casual attire that came with Saturdays, when dress code was lax.

“And you’ve come to return it to me, how kind of you.” She reached for them, but he lifted them higher until they would be out of her grasp even if she stood. “Hand over my mail, Riddle. I have work to finish and I’d like to get out of here as soon as possible.”

“I thought you lived at work.” There was an edge to his voice then. “Haven’t you fallen asleep in your office several times now? All Hermione Granger does is eat, sleep, and breathe her work.”

If she ever got her hands on her mail, she was going to smack him with the largest parcel. “Have you been watching me? Perhaps you’re a bit jealous that you were passed over for the position.” That did it.

His eyes sparked, and he slammed a hand down at the edge of her desk. Papers scattered, but she snorted at the vicious glint that had taken over his eyes. “You are undoubtedly the rudest witch to work in the Ministry. What are you rushing to get out of here for, Granger?”

Tom Riddle has called her by her surname since they were first years, and the timeless rivalry between their houses had snapped into place, never wavering. When they were fellow Heads, he had called her by her first name one time, and one time only. There had been liquor involved, and him holding her up while helping her back to the shared common room while hissing that this didn’t make them friends.

She hadn’t needed the reminder. Thing was, this memory was years in the past now and there was no sense in it now. The look on his face reminded her of it though. Crystal clear, as though it had happened last week.

“I’m meeting Harry and Ron.” Hermione waited for him to roll his eyes, but he didn’t. The grin he gave was all the more terrifying. So much that she felt it in her bones, the sense of dread that put her upside down. “We have plans for dinner, and I’d like to get this done. So, if you could just…”

He waved his hand and the door to her office swung shut. The lock turned into place, and the sound of it rattled through the room. “I’m afraid your they’ll have to wait a little longer.” Finally, he hands over a few of the parcels, save for one. His knuckles have turned white from his grip on it. And then Hermione saw that the top of it had been ripped open.

“Did you open my mail?” She shot out of her seat, now regretting that she’d kicked her shoes off the second she got in. Now if she rounded the desk to yell at him from an even closer distance—and it was tempting—he’d only laugh at her. “Riddle, that’s—”

“There was no name on it.” Riddle said slowly, and there was no missing that slow chuckle under his breath. “I had no idea who it was meant for, so of course I opened it. How else would I figure it out?”

“Fine,” slipped through gritted teeth. “Just hand it over and get out.”

Riddle shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. You see, I don’t think this” –he waves the heavy envelope— “was meant for you. It certainly concerns you, but it seems to me that someone is trying to ruin you.”

Her brows shot up, nearly taking a new home in her hairline. “Spare me the bloody dramatics, and give me my mail.”

He didn’t hand it over, but he pulled the contents from inside and let them fly across her desk.

A knot formed in her stomach, tying itself over and over again. They were all photos of herself in various states of undress—some of them showed her completely nude—and she recognized the hands on her in some as her Viktor’s. He must have kept them after they had broken up. “What the fuck—” Hermione began, but she struggled to take a proper breath. “You’ll hand these over immediately, Riddle.”

He clicked his tongue. “I think I’ll pass, actually.”

“Would you rather be arrested?” Hermione all but snarled it. She’d set them on fire, if it weren’t for the parchment under them. They’d catch fire just as well, but perhaps it would be worth it. A final resort, if Riddle didn’t come to his senses.

Gone was his former irritation, and all there was now was his amusement. He didn’t bother to hide it at all. “Unless you’d like for me to tell them how you blackmailed Cassius Parkinson into voting for your bill last summer…”

Her throat could have closed up with how she couldn’t breathe. I have no idea what you’re talking about. That was what she should have said, but it was nowhere near what fucking came out of her mouth. “How do you know about that?”

The photos were still staring up at her, and he was staring at them too much for her liking. She couldn’t recognize him anymore when he did, or that way his eyes darkened when they lingered. “I have quite a few acquaintances, Granger. His daughter was in our year, you must remember, and when Cassius is pissed, he likes to rant.”

“And I was his most recent topic.”

He shrugged. “A few weeks ago, you were. Now that I have not one, but two things I’m able to hold over that pretty little head of yours, I think you’ll be much more agreeable.”

Voices grew louder as footsteps sounded on the other side of the door, and Riddle came around her desk. Hermione took an involuntary step back, and hated the way he smiled when she did. “Why would you want that?”

He’d foregone his dress robes today, but she wished he hadn’t. The way his trousers fit him were even more distracting, and his sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms. Riddle leaned forward, placing a hand on her desk—on the photo, over her bare breasts—and smiled like he knew exactly where his palm had landed. “You’re a quick study, Granger. I think you’ll figure it out.”

She thought she already had with he way he was staring at her. “Please, just let me take the photos. I’ll give you money, or—”

“I don’t want your money.”

Hermione swallowed. “Then what do you want?”

“Right now,” He shifted his stance, and lifted his hand so he could drag his fingertip across the photo. “I want you to tell me why you took these photos and what’s happening in them. You can manage that surely, hmm?”

Her heartbeat was uneven in her chest, to the point that it hurt, and she couldn’t think of a way out of this. “Have you made copies?” The pleading in her voice was very much real, but she knew the answer before he said it.

“Of course.” He lifted his other hand, and brushed her hair over her shoulder. “Now, you know what you’re meant to do, don’t you?”

Hermione would like to snap at him, to yell for the Aurors—which there was no shortage of on this floor. But the truth of what she’s done would be enough to earn her termination, and her achievement of earning deputy department head sooner than anyone else would cease to matter. Not only that, but the legislation it had helped her pass would be called into question.

And he knew it.

“It was for my ex boyfriend’s birthday.” Hermione whispered. “I posed for him on our bed while he photographed me, and charmed the camera when we—”

His finger slid against the base of her throat, warm and coaxing. “Then this was your idea?”

She nodded, and did not lean into him.

She. Did. Not.

“Tell me about this one. And do a good job of it.” The threat was unmistakably clear, and she wished that it didn’t effect her in the way it did.

Fear swirled in the pit of her stomach, sick and vicious, but that wasn’t all. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, not willing to look at the feeling any closer. “I’m going to get you back for this.” Her voice was ragged, too breathy, and not enough anger.

It didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m sure you will. I’m rather looking forward to it, but I’ve asked you a question. You don’t want to keep me waiting, do you?”

In the photograph he’d pointed out, it was nearly only of her save for the hand on her neck, and the fingers wrapped around her throat. She looked past Viktor’s arm, swallowing, and looked at herself for a moment. “We’re having sex.”

Riddle shook his head.

“He’s fucking me.” Hermione said unevenly. “It was the second time that night.”

“He’s choking you.” Riddle’s voice was low, but not soft, and he curled a finger under her chin to lift her head. When she tried to turn away, his grip tightened and he forced her to look at him. “Was that for him, or for you?”

“For me.” Hermione swallowed tightly, and he watched her. “He never liked it.”

He let go of her jaw, and his fingers drifted lower. Riddle’s knuckles brushed against the front of her throat, and she thought he might try to recreate that photo. “I’m not going to choke you.” His voice softened when she flinched. “Why didn’t he like it?”

Why did he want to know? What difference could it make? From the way this had started and continued on, there was clearly one thing he was after. “If your plan is to blackmail me for sex, you should just get it over with.”

“I can assure you that I have no intentions of simply getting it over with, Granger.”

Of course he would want to drag this out—to savor it for as long as he could. Surely there was something she could find on him so she could turn the tables. It would mean that they would be in a hopefully constant stalemate, but there was no doubt that Tom Riddle was the sort of man that would keep going until he regained the upper hand.

Where would that leave her?

The only option for now was to play along, and to pretend there wasn’t a thrill that came with it.

“Viktor thought it felt like abusing me. He rarely ever choked me.”

“That’s a shame. And what of this one?” He pointed to another photo, but by the time she dragged her eyes back to him, she found that he’d hardly looked away from her.

She was on her back, and it’s a terribly explicit photograph. Hermione’s skin was flush, soft. Her breasts are exposed, and she can see herself in the moment reaching a hand between her thighs.

Her legs were spread, and her head was over the edge of the bed.

“I’m sucking his cock.” Her hands curled into fists.

“It’s impressive.” There were his fingers again, dropping to her shoulder where he nudged her jumper to the side. “You’ve taken him all the way down your throat.”

Under his thumb was a terrifying place to be. “He told me to play with my cunt. Viktor wanted to see me come while I sucked him off.”

He toyed with the hair at the nape of her neck. “Did you come all over your fingers?”

Hermione bit her lip, hard. “I—yes.”

“You’re holding back.” Riddle murmured, and the room grew smaller. There were footsteps on the other side of the door, and anyone could hear them if she weren’t comfortable. If anyone were to unlock the door and come in, the photos— A small sound escaped her when he shifted their stance. He pinned her against her own desk, and he grabbed her by the jaw again. “Tell me.”

“I squirted.”

His breath came out hard, uneven, and she swallowed. For a moment, she hadn’t thought that she should be afraid and yet, she couldn’t drum up an ounce of fear. “Sweet fucking Circe.” Riddle was pressed against her, and she felt him against her lower stomach. “Would you like to know which of these is my favorite?”

No. Absolutely fucking not. You’re a disgusting pervert.

Any of them would have been acceptable. By playing along with this part of his game, she was only being complacent. A dangerous thing to be when he would notice it. Thing was, she desperately wanted to know. Her stomach had turned over on itself, and she knew that she was wet. Hermione did not rub her thighs together, no matter how badly she needed the friction. He would have felt it.

It made her wonder what he would have done if she had.

“Yes.”

The grin he gave her was one she’d never seen. He leaned into her, his chest pressing against hers, and picked up a photo from her desk. “It’s this one,” As he said it, Riddle pushed it into her hands.

Out of all of them, she wasn’t sure this was the one she would have guessed to be his favorite. Perhaps the one where she’s spread out across the bed, her head on the pillows with her legs spread. “This one?” Hermione echoed. “Why?”

She was on her knees, still completely bare, and she’d pressed her chest forward. Hermione’s head was tilted up, her lips slightly parted. It’s not a tame photo—nothing she would ever want anyone else to see—but it’s nowhere near as revealing as the others.

“I want you on your knees for me.” Riddle groaned under his breath. “I want you staring up at me just like this.” He cupped her face, and ran his thumb across her lower lip, then slid it forward.

Hermione took his thumb in her mouth, and swirled her tongue around it, hating how she’d done it.

“You’re going to be a perfect little slut for me, aren’t you?”

She whimpered.

“Oh, do you like that as well? Is that another thing he wouldn’t give you?”

It was, and Hermione nodded.

“What a fucking fool.” When he pulled his finger from her mouth, his fingers came to rest against her throat. He didn’t tighten them as he watched her. “I want to see you on your knees for me, wearing a collar while you take my cock down your throat.”

Hermione caved. She rubbed her thighs together, and gripped the edge of the desk until her knuckles turned white. “Riddle—”

“You’ll call me Tom from now on.” He cut her off.

“And if I don’t?” It sounded more like her.

He flexed his fingers. “I’m dying for you to act like a brat so I can punish you, Hermione.” Her name sounded too good on his tongue. “You’re going to be late.”

Hermione’s head spun. She’d blow off her plans with Harry and Ron. The first thing she needed to do was to get home because she was positively fucking aching.

Riddle gathered the photos, sliding them back into the parcel and left it in the middle of her desk. “I’ll see you soon, Granger.”

#mrsren #tomione #tom riddle jr #hermione granger #Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger #blackmail au #smut

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