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leftoverenvy · 2 years

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Tastes Like Sugar (ch. 22)

Summary: India Mae, or Indi, is a music major, struggling to pay bills, tuition, work, and make good grades. Emily Prentiss is a BAU profiler, as well as a DC socialite thanks to her huge family fortune. The two enter into a mutually beneficial arrangement: Emily will pay for Indi's school if Indi accompanies Emily to her social functions for a few months, posing as her girlfriend. As weeks go by, the lines between their arrangement and their true feelings start to blur. But money can't buy love, right?

Pairing: India Mae Banks x Emily Prentiss; OC x Emily Prentiss

Warnings: canon-type mentions of rape, violence, and gore If you have any concerns, please message me. Please consume media safely in accordance with your triggers.

Word Count: 5k (<- lol sorry this is like two chapters in one)

Read on Wattpad | Ao3 | Previous Chapters

Taglist: @ssa-sapphic 🧸; @5raysofsunshine 🌮; @reidselle 🦭; @milfprotector 🐝💚; @gaelic-symphony 🎻 ; @scargarcia-magshotchner 💜; @sadgirlml 🌻💌; @hotchs-bitch ; @multiverse-mxdness ; @madelineleong

Chapter 22 - The South Side Slayer

Emily's POV: I paced the back wall of the precinct for god knows how long. Hotch had originally agreed that I could stay home this case to take India to the concert, but the next day he called me to come to Chicago. They needed more hands on deck, more agents on the ground. Because I had originally thought I wouldn't be on this case, I hadn't read the file. And when I walked in the Chicago precinct, my stomach plummeted, and I wished Hotch hadn't called me at all.

Pictures of young women plastered the boards. This unsub had already killed twelve women to our knowledge. And all twelve looked exactly like India.

My first glance at his victims caused bile to rise in the back of my throat. I shook my head imperceptibly; there was no way I could work this case. I'd be useless. Each photo of the crime scenes tightened my stomach. Each autopsy photo – the words "sexual assault" next to the victims' faces – paralyzed me. All I saw was Indi's lifeless corpse. All I imagined was Indi's cries as this sick unsub gagged and mutilated the love of my life.

I was supposed to be catching myself up on the case files. Hotch had asked me to get myself up to date so we could go out in the field this evening. But all I could do was pace and try my hardest to keep vomit from rising up my throat. Before I knew what I was doing, my phone was out of my pocket, my fingers already clicking on Indi's name.

"Em? I thought you were on a plane…" I sighed in relief at hearing her sweet voice.

"I've landed now. I'm at the local precinct." She paused, probably waiting for me to get to the point. But there was no point. I had nothing to say or ask. I just needed to hear she was safe. "Are you okay?"

"…Yes? Are you okay, Emily?"

"Yeah, fine love," I played it off. "Just wanted to check in because I had a few minutes. We're going out in the field this evening, so I don't know if I'll be able to call you tonight." There. That was a reasonable excuse to call her a few hours after leaving her.

"Oooookaaaay…" Maybe not such a believable excuse. "Well, please be safe." I nearly laughed out loud. Me be safe? When she was the one in danger? I had to physically stop pacing to get my paranoid brain to listen to my rational brain. Indi is not in Chicago – she is perfectly safe in DC.

"I always am, baby." I bit my lip. Would it be unreasonable to request this? "Um," I started. "Could you do something for me?"

"Anything, Em."

"Could you text me during the day?" I asked nervously. I immediately put my finger in my mouth, biting the bit of nail I had just grown out the past few weeks. Indi had commented just yesterday how proud she was that I had real nails, not just nubs. I grimaced – I knew they would be completely gone by the end of this case. I hated to disappoint her, even over something as trivial as the length of my nails.

"I always text you during the day, Em."

"I know," I sighed, "Just…text me more."

"What's going on?" Concern laced her voice.

"Just please, baby, promise me." I could hear desperation creep in my own voice. I inhaled deeply, trying to gain back a little control.

"I promise, Em. Are you in danger?" I winced. Now I had worried her. The concern in her voice had shifted to mild panic.

"No no, nothing like that," I tried to reassure her. "I-" I took another deep breath, blowing it out slowly. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to alarm you. I just miss you."

"I miss you too, baby," she said softly. I felt myself relax slightly. "I'll send you my entire life via text message. You'll be so annoyed with me."

I laughed stiffly. "I doubt that very much." Hotch walked into our meeting room. "Look baby, I've gotta go."

"Hurry home," she said softly. As soon as I hit the end call button, the terrifying images of Indi being sexually assaulted and mutilated swarmed my mind again. I exhaled loudly once more – a desperate attempt to re-ground myself.

"Sorry," I apologized to Hotch. I picked up the case file that had sent me over the edge, hoping it wouldn't again now that I confirmed India was safe. "I just-"

"Don't worry about it. When I first got the file, I knew this one would be hard for you. They do look remarkably similar to her, don't they?" I hummed in agreement. I couldn't form the words for a proper reply. "Let's get started."

______________________________

The team and I entered the hotel lobby. Derek and I were soaking wet, and I was fuming. No one dared talk to me in the car. No one argued this time when I headed straight upstairs. While we normally debriefed right after a day in the field, I didn't have it in me tonight. I hadn't called Indi since earlier this afternoon and had not found time to check my messages.

Not caring that I was still rain-soaked and muddy, once upstairs, I flopped in the chair in the corner of the room to check my messages.

Indi🥰: Hi babe! Just had the best Thai food. I'll have to take you to this place near campus sometime. Indi🥰: I hope you're being safe. I'm thinking about you… Indi🥰: Feels weird to text you again…are you sure you want me to text you this much? It's 9:00 and I have to be up early, so I'm getting ready for bed…call if you can. I miss your voice. Indi🥰: Guess you're still out. Talk to you tomorrow babe 😘

I sighed. I had just missed her by about two hours. I risked waking her because I needed to hear her voice. No answer. I groaned and threw my phone full force, lucky it landed against the pillows on the bed. I put my head in my hands and willed myself not to cry. I quickly re-read her messages before heading to shower.

Standing up with a sigh, I stripped as I made my way to the bathroom. I was filthy. Derek and I had chased the unsub through the rainy streets of Chicago. Derek clearly knew the streets a lot better than I did, he grew up there after all. But it did us no good. The unsub was far more familiar with the area than we were. I had gotten within two feet of him. I could nearly feel the back of his hoodie on my fingertips as I reached for him. But I missed. I tumbled over my feet and splashed in a muddy puddle.

I slammed my wet suit on the floor of the bathroom with a wet splat. I cranked the water as hot as it would go. I wanted to scrub this day off of me. I wanted to scrub every mistake I made today. I wanted to purge myself of the images of this case. But I knew they would stick with me for the foreseeable future.

I only felt slightly better after my shower. I picked up my phone once more as I towel dried my hair. Though I hadn't expected a new message from India, I was disappointed nonetheless to see no notifications. I crawled in bed and opened the album with her selfies. I scrolled through, starting from the first selfies I saved from her SugarBook profile. She was so perfect. Tears burned my eyes as I made it to the most recent photo from last night's concert. Her eyes sparkled with excitement and affection. There wasn't a thing I wouldn't do to make her look like that again.

I groaned and clicked my phone off. I wanted to give her the world, but instead, all I could provide her was a life of dull social functions and me being in and out for work. We needed a vacation; she deserved a weekend away. I'd have to ask Hotch if I could take some time off. In the meantime, I would have to wait this out. I vowed to catch the bastard that tortured these women.

______________________________

I woke up with a start, shooting straight up. My loud "INDI NO" echoed around my hotel room. My heart thudded in my chest as if I really had just chased the unsub for blocks like I had in my dream. I had been too late in my dream. I watched the unsub ruin her perfect skin with cuts right in front of me, the autopsy photos fueling my subconscious. I drew my gun to stop him from cutting her throat out and stood idly by as my bullets did nothing to him. I wasn't enough to save India.

Without even checking the time, I was calling Indi. Straight to voicemail once again. I exhaled shakily and pushed my bangs off my sweaty forehead. My hand fell limply next to me, reaching for empty sheets. I longed for my hand to feel Indi's warmth as she snored softly next to me.

A soft knock sounded against my door, interrupting my late-night yearning. "Em?" I heard JJ call through the door. I rolled my eyes. There was no way I would be opening that up.

I clambered out of bed to splash water on my flushed face. As I looked up into the mirror, into my own eyes, I searched desperately for whatever India saw in them. What was it that drew her to me? What was it she saw in there? Lord knows I couldn't see it.

______________________________

Indi🥰: Good morning, Em. I'm SO sorry I didn't wake for your calls last night. Are you okay?! One at 12 and one at 3? I wish you were sleeping more. I'm worried about you…Anyway, I hope you have a good day. I'll be thinking about you 💖

Her good morning text brought a soft smile to my face. I only wished it would last me the entire day, but after yesterday, I wasn't naive enough to think I wouldn't need to call her later. I dialed her for the millionth time in less than 24 hours, and to my immense relief, she answered.

"Morning, babe!" She was so chipper, it caught me off guard. I had a night plagued by gruesome nightmares, and she was bright and sunny.

"Indi," I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you for answering, baby. How did you sleep?"

"Just fine, Em. Can you tell me what's going on? Why are you so…" she trailed off looking for the right word. Psychotic? Neurotic? Paranoid? Clingy? "High-strung?"

"I'm fine, angel," I lied. "Please don't worry about me."

"Kind of hard when you want to talk all day. You're being…you just don't seem like yourself." I sighed. She was right, and I wasn't convincing her that I was fine. "Look, babe, I'm so sorry. I know you're stressed about something, but I need to head to class…"

"Yes of course!" I said emphatically. I didn't want her missing class just to cater to my paranoia. "I'm sorry baby. Please have a good class."

We said our goodbyes, and I finished getting ready for the day. Starting my day by hearing Indi's voice made a huge difference. Today, I lasted a whole hour without being a neurotic lunatic. But throughout the day, I was constantly on my phone checking for updates from her. I called her at lunch and dinner. None of the team said anything, all recognizing why this case was so difficult for me. JJ had tried to no avail.

"What?" she snarked. "Can't go a few hours without talking to her? You scared she'll find someone-" I opened my mouth to respond but Hotch walked in the room. His eyebrows furrowed in a cross scowl as he glared at JJ. I flashed my eyes to him in gratitude, but in true Hotch fashion, he ignored it.

"Let's go. I got a lead on this unsub. We got a tip: a witness saw a man matching the unsub's description abducting a woman near the warehouse district."

"I'll add this new geographical point and cross-reference," Spencer piped up.

I wished I could have moved, but I stood frozen in my place. He had gotten another victim. Another woman. Another family was going to lose their Indi because we couldn't catch this guy fast enough.

"Prentiss!" Hotch barked. "Let's go." Everyone had already filed out of the tiny conference room.

We all piled in one SUV, leaving Spencer behind to narrow the geographic profile. We were counting on him to find a warehouse in time. He stayed on speakerphone while we raced to the warehouse district. Everything was riding on Reid. "Spence!" JJ yelled harshly on the phone. "We need a location. Take a guess."

"I don't really do that." I tasted blood in my mouth from biting my fingernails down to the quick. I never needed to catch an unsub more.

"Well start," she snapped. "We're circling the warehouse district right now."

"Lay off," Rossi chided from the front seat. I couldn't help but think he had a short fuse with JJ now that he knew our history. "Reid, which are the most likely few? Let's narrow from there. Tell me the points of overlap."

"There are two," he informed. And then he was talking a mile a minute. I tried to keep up, but I honestly couldn't focus. I tuned him out, my thoughts running away from me as fast as Reid's brain was thinking. What if it were Indi in that warehouse? What if we were too late? He had her for hours now. "I got it!" his reverie pulled me from my morbid worries.

Reid directed us to a long-abandoned warehouse bordering an open field. We stormed the warehouse, guns drawn. But as soon as we rounded a corner, a blood-curdling, terrified scream echoed around the cement room. My stomach knotted around nothing. Had I eaten lunch, I would have vomited right there. I had never heard Indi scream like that, but I couldn't help but imagine that it would sound exactly like the victim's.

We pushed forward, eyes trained for any signs of movement. I stayed back. While normally I would lead the charge, I didn't trust myself to refrain from discharging my weapon prematurely. I'd let the rest of the team lead the push. "FBI! Put your hands in the air!" Derek shouted.

I kept my gun trained on the sick son of a bitch that did unspeakable things to women. The crazed yet vacant look in his eyes turned my stomach. He was getting off on the blood dripping from his knife.

"Please help me!" she shouted. Before I could stop myself, I raced towards her. The unsub was not secure yet. In the back of my mind, I knew it was a poor decision. Charging forward was reckless. He was holding a weapon. Decisions like these got agents hurt. Luckily, Derek made a split-second decision and shadowed me. He intercepted the unsub before the unsub got me. His quick thinking allowed me to take care of the victim.

"You're safe now," I reassured her. "He won't touch you again."

______________________________

When we got back to the hotel, I sat down to call Indi. It had been hours since I had heard from her. I had one text from her at lunch, and nothing since. Her sweet voice chirped over the phone about leaving her a message. Before I could leave a message, someone knocked at my door. I hung up the phone and stood up to answer the door.

I opened the door and Hotch blazed through. "What were you thinking?" he demanded to know.

"What?" I asked dumbly.

"You could have gotten yourself killed. I didn't say anything at the scene because the rest of the team was around. I know this was a hard case for you, but that was stupid. And you know it." I couldn't argue with him. It was stupid. I could have gotten seriously injured. If not for Morgan, I could have ended up maimed or even killed. But the thought of someone leaving Indi in that position if she were a victim forced me forward. I didn't have a satisfactory answer for him.

His voice softened. "Look. I've given you a lot of leeway this case-"

"I know, sir. I'm really grate-" He held a hand up to stop me.

"I'm not asking for excuses or reasons. I know why. I shouldn't have called you back for this one." My stomach sank. While I knew I hadn't done my best work this case, I didn't want to be a liability to the team; I didn't want to let Hotch down. "I need this not to happen again."

"I understand," I answered dejectedly. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again." I didn't know if I could keep that promise, but it seemed to appease Hotch.

"See to it that it doesn't." His face softened gradually, a subtle switch from cold boss to the man who I knew cared for each of us dearly. "Are you okay?" I sighed. I wished everyone would stop asking me that. I had no answer for them.

I blew out a puff of air and nodded stiffly. Hotch cocked his head to the side, his tell that he wasn't buying what he was hearing. "I'll be okay," I answered truthfully. "I just need to get home. I just need to see her."

This time he accepted my answer. Not one for emotional conversations, he nodded stiffly and said, "Wheels up in about an hour. Don't be late," he commanded. And then he turned and walked out.

As soon as the door clicked behind Hotch, my phone was back in my phone to call Indi again. She didn't answer, nor did she respond to my texts. The relief I felt at catching the unsub vanished as fast as it came. Where could she be? Why wasn't she picking up? She had been so good the last few days, obviously sensing my unease. I piled my clothes in my duffel bag, not caring about wrinkling my suits. My mood was dour the entire way to the air strip.

I had a brief reprieve from my apprehension when I convinced myself that the plane was messing with my reception. Even though it had never been an issue before and we had wifi on the plane, the explanation made me feel better. But after about ten minutes, I heard Rossi on the phone, softly speaking to another. His gentle, concerned voice caused a flare of jealousy to course through my body. I wished I could hear Indi's voice.

Even worse, I had no notifications waiting for me even after we had landed. I impatiently waited for my phone to vibrate as I made my way to the parking lot. I obsessively, recklessly checked my phone while I was driving home. As each minute passed without word from Indi, panic swelled inside me.

______________________________

"Indi?!" I shouted as I burst through the back door. I threw my bag and keys in the general direction of the kitchen island. Who knew where they actually ended up? I didn't hear her respond. I hadn't received a text from her all afternoon, either. "INDI!" I yelled again.

I frantically ran upstairs, my footfalls beating as loud as my heart. Jogging down the hallway, I blew past my room, heading straight for hers. The lights were out, and her room looked undisturbed. Her bed was made neatly, her school bag in its spot in the corner. The only thing seemingly out of place was her guitar laying in the middle of her bed. That and the fact that she seemed to be missing.

My breaths expelled rapidly and loudly. My heart thudded in my chest as I started to hyperventilate. I flipped on the light as if that would make her materialize in front of me. "INDIA!" I screamed, panic causing my voice to break.

"Emily?" I heard from behind me. I whipped around so rapidly, it nearly made me dizzy. Tears pricked behind my eyes at seeing her perfect face, her brows creased in concern. In two strides, I was down the hall and pulling her into my arms.

I exhaled shakily, every tear I forced myself to suck back up this case now falling freely. To hide my tears, I buried my face in her hair. She smelled so sweet. She felt like home. I pulled her impossibly closer; I didn't care if it was too tight. I reveled in her being safe in my arms. Now that I could see with my own two eyes, feel with my own two arms, that she was truly safe, it all seemed so ridiculous. She had never been in any danger. The unsub was in Chicago. But rationality left my brain entirely this case. "Fuck," I muttered.

She started to pull back, cupping my face and gazing at me with huge, sympathetic eyes. Tears swam down my face in full force. I should have been embarrassed, but I was too glad to be home with her. She didn't say anything, but her eyes were filled with understanding. Silently, gently, she wiped my endless tears from my cheeks. Her touch was unbearably caring. Never having had such support and affection, I hadn't realized I was desperately in need of it this case. I hadn't realized how much I had needed Indi's sanctuary.

I leaned down to rest my forehead against hers. My breathing had started to regulate – matched to the timing of Indi's – but there wasn't a thing I could do about these tears. "Indi," I gasped.

"I'm here, Em." Her arms wrapped around my neck as she lifted up to kiss me softly. "I'm right here, babe." I kissed her forehead again, my tears finally slowing.

"I drew you a bath," she whispered. "Would that help you relax?"

I pulled her closer as if she were threatening to pull away. "Only if you stay," I responded in mild alarm. I couldn't stand the idea of her leaving me alone. "Please, baby. Please just let me hold you."

"Of course I'll stay with you." She pecked me on the lips. "I'll do whatever you need."

We awkwardly made our way through my room to my huge tub. I didn't dare let her go. I wanted her glued to my side. She leaned down to stick her fingers in the water. "Still warm," she informed. I pulled her back in my arms. "Em," she started softly. "We have to get undressed."

Reluctantly I let her go. As soon as my hands could no longer feel her soft skin, I felt my heart rate increase. I tried to breathe deeply. It was ridiculous; I could see her a foot away from me. I whipped my clothes off. The faster I could get in the tub, the faster she'd join me.

There was something sacrilegious about her taking her own clothes off. I wanted to do it for her. It was my job to do it for her. I grabbed her wrists unbuttoning her jeans and put them back at her sides. I kissed her collarbones while I pushed her jeans over her wide hips. I crouched to continue to pull her pants down her legs, kissing her hip bones along the way.

As I stood up, I placed small kisses against her skin. I sucked slightly on her neck. "Thank you, baby," I whispered. I stepped over the ledge of the tub and sank down into the warm water. I opened my legs, and India settled between them. I sighed as I pulled her closer to me. I grabbed a scrunchie from the side of the tub, left from the last time we took a bath together. I gathered her thick curls and piled them on top of her head. Once I had ensured her hair wouldn't fall down into the water, I placed a tender kiss where the top of her spine met her neck.

"Mmm," she hummed in pleasure. "Thank you, babe."

Neither of us spoke after that. It was enough for me to just hold her, feel her warm and safe in my arms. Mindlessly, I placed quick pecks to her head, shoulder, neck. I kissed anywhere I could reach. My hands traced patterns into her skin under the water while she laid against me. This closeness was exactly what I needed.

I lost myself in my cacophonous mind. I heard the screams of the last victim ringing in my mind as loud as they had been in the warehouse. I heard them as if the victim were screaming in my bathroom. I centered myself back in the present moment. The silence in my bathroom was a stark contrast from the noise in my head. I guess Indi couldn't take anymore silence, because after a few minutes, she asked, "What happened, baby?"

I steeled myself with a deep breath. India deserved an explanation for my behavior this week. "It was a rough case." It did not capture just how terrible the case was, but I needed to start somewhere. She shifted sideways so she could press her lips to my neck. It gave me the strength to continue. As I spoke, her fingers ghosted up and down my arm. She scooped water and splashed the skin above the water line, keeping me warm. "Our unsub was kidnapping, torturing, mutilating, and raping the victims."

"Oh," she gasped.

"I'm sorry, baby. I don't have to go into detail. I know it's heavy."

"NO! I'm sorry, babe. I just," she paused, "You've just never gone into detail on a case like this. It just startled me, that's all. Please don't lock this up. Let me help you carry this weight."

"Well, that isn't anything new," I continued. "We've dealt with worse unsubs, to be honest. But this case was so hard because -" I swallowed thickly. Each autopsy photo flashing in front of my eyes in rapid succession. "Well," my voice dropped to a whisper, "The victims looked exactly like you." I paused again. And like the most morbid slideshow, cuts into light mocha skin and bruised bodies started flashing again. Dark chocolate, terrified eyes blazed back at me from photos I would never forget. Positive results from rape kits in each victim's medical file haunted me. I couldn't escape it. My brain superimposed Indi's face over each victim's face. "Exactly like you, Indi," I whispered hoarsely.

"And the entire case I was so worried," I continued. "I've never had to worry about anyone else. Hell, I've never cared if anything happened to myself, either. But you've changed everything, love. I know exactly how ugly and dangerous this world is. I know exactly how fragile you are." I pulled her closer, tucking my face into the crook of her neck. "I'd lose it if something happened to you, angel. This case reminded me that I have so much to lose now." I squeezed her softly.

I took a few beats to regain my composure. She never rushed me. She waited patiently for me to resume. "Rationally, I know you're safe here. I saw your texts flood in. Thank you for doing that, by the way," I added as an aside. "But I couldn't help but panic about you being taken from me. You are so precious to me. What if I got to you too late? What if I couldn't save you? What if-"

"Hey hey!" she interrupted. "None of that happened, Em. I'm here; I'm safe. Don't dwell on that. I'm safe with you." She kissed under my jaw as her hand ran up my chest. She was twisted so awkwardly trying to comfort me, so I picked her up, closed my legs, and put her on my lap. She curled her legs to her chest to fit sideways in the tub. I cradled her delicately.

She made everything better; she healed every wound. I tipped her head back and kissed her softly. I cupped the back of her neck to ensure she couldn't go anywhere. My heart rate finally settled back to normal. Whereas normally her kiss excited me, zapping it into overdrive, tonight it calmed me. Tonight, she soothed my worn edges.

I pulled back, startled. "Why did you draw a bath in here?" It had just dawned on me that Indi seemed to have expected I would need a little extra support tonight. How had she known this was exactly what I needed when I hadn't even known it myself? "How did you know I was going to be home?"

She chuckled, her breath tickling the side of my neck. "I, uh," she said nervously, "I may have gotten a call from one of your coworkers."

"Who?!" I asked in outrage.

"Calm down, babe. They didn't say anything." She kissed my jaw to placate me. "They just told me this case took a toll on you – like I couldn't see that one for myself," she said sarcastically. "And that you might need a little extra comfort tonight."

"Rossi," I hissed like a curse.

"Don't be mad at him, please, Emily. It was sweet for him to call."

"He likes you, you know," I told her. Rossi had a soft spot for me. He was thrilled I found someone who made me smile so much. "He's happy I found someone so special."

She cupped my face delicately. "You're pretty special yourself, Em." I love you, I love you, I love you I chanted in my head. I nearly blurted it out loud, but the fear of her running away and locking herself in her room again caused me to refrain. I would have to continue showing her any other way I could. My heart fell when I thought about today's date. We had one month left together. Hopefully, I could convince her to stay before our final month was up.

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#🌬 fics #tastes like sugar #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x oc #emily prentiss fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds au #wlw writing

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frogsandfries · 1 month

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Ahhhhhhh! So fresh and so clean!

I haven't had a proper shower since last Monday, even though, if I'd known I wouldn't have water almost at all for two days, and there wouldn't be hot water for nearly a week, I would've taken another on Tuesday. No, I do not shower every day. I can't stand the over-stimulation of taking off all my clothes every day and I hate when my hair is wet and I hate using heating devices on my hair. Like, now I'm sweaty and need to shower again. Anyway. Yeah, if you want to think of it like that, I'm gross. I think I'm a normal person listening to my body.

So. I had my first proper hot shower since I've had this piercing. Which scares me more than it does you. But this is my second time washing the piercing with the piercing soap, which I think I was supposed to use after showering........ anyway, things are a little askew.

I had a nap today after work. I definitely would've slept longer, but I have a bossy cat. Today was only the second day on the new schedule, but........ I'm not crazy about this schedule. Even moving time zones isn't really going to fix this. I've lived over here for nearly four years. By the time I've adjusted to having this schedule in central time, either I'll have found something else, or I'll have another new schedule.

This job is trash and barely pays the bills, but there isn't really a great way to ask for a raise. It's not like I can bitch in the break room to my colleagues and we can collectively demand a raise, so I kind of just have to...... either send my manager an email, or discuss it over video. Either way, a fucking nickel isn't going to cut it--a dollar isn't going to cut it. Honestly, with this bullshit corpflation, three dollars will barely cut it. And with how shitty the clientele is, a five dollar per hour raise would barely be scratching the surface. Anyway, long story short, this job is bullshit chump change, and I'd desperately love to find something that pays that I enjoy doing. But the things I've liked doing have been considered not adult jobs and unworthy of being paid respectfully.

Hhhhhhhhh..............

Cheer up Charlie, I get to see and have help me move, not one but two of my sisters! I just hope the girls are okay while my sister is away from them. I do not like or trust their dad........ Having a three person moving team is really my ideal in this situation: One person stays with the van, one person stays with the apartment. No worries about someone fucking with the van and no need to fiddle with the apartment key each time. And for us weaker sisters, we aren't pushing ourselves to tackle the stairs rapidly.

Then over the summer, we're going to start having the middle sister and her girls over to the house with increasing frequency. Hopefully we can enroll the girls in a school in our neighborhood by next autumn. Hopefully.

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archer973 · 2 years

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So, life update!

I haven’t been around, besides my queue rolling, cuz frankly life has taken an aggravating left turn into Bullshitville

Took the kiddo to Michigan to spend some time with his Grandma (and enjoy the lack of two inch long mooseflies gnawing on him). Got back home, day later, power’s gone! Figure it is cuz they’re replacing the poles, grumble about bad luck, continue on with our lives.

Power does not come back on. Call power company. Bill is three days passed due, so being the cunts they are, they disconnect (yes I know they have to send a disconnect notice first, CMP is a nasty piece of shit company and is more than happy to bury someone in lawyers). Cue grumbling and bitching, but hey, payday is only two days away, we can deal, no biggie.

Payday rolls around. No paycheck. Husband goes up to HR. Supervisor apparently “forgot” to put in his PTO that he got approved LITERALLY THREE MONTHS AGO. (This is the same supervisor that refused to give him the holiday pay because he had to leave work for an hour to come get me and the kiddo when our car broke down and the tow truck literally could not take us. And because of policy, that meant Husband lost not one but BOTH days of holiday pay).

So no paycheck that week. Which meant no power. So we hunker down, put our immediate perishables in a cooler and bring up the storm water from the basement. But we lost everything in our freezer that we couldn’t grill within the next two days, and we’re getting low on clean clothes, because we literally just got back from two weeks of traveling.

But we deal. Payday comes around again! Hallelujah.

Bill is paid. Power should come back on, right? Wrong. They say it could take until Monday evening (paid on a Thursday, mind you). Another weekend no lights, no running water. Temps got up to 95* with 100% humidity.

Monday rolls around. Waiting with bated breath for power! No power. Company is closed down for the night.

Call the next morning. They say they’ll send a tech! Only one tech in our area, and he’s on a ten hour job. They promise he’ll swing by tomorrow, first thing!

He does. Says our meter is bad. Comes back sometime in the afternoon and replaces meter. Meanwhile, I’m running around applying for different jobs, because Husband’s old combat injury is getting worse and he can’t keep doing the job he’s doing. I haven’t had a shower since we were in Michigan, so I scrub my hair in the sink and try to find the least smelly clothes I have.

Go to interview. Get job! Things are looking up. Come home, still no power. Have to wait for an overnight reset, they say. Morning rolls around, guess what? Still no fucking power.

At this point we are at the end of our rope. Company claims everything looks good on their end, we should have power. So that means it’s something in the house.

(Keep in mind the power was working just fine before they shut it off.)

Husband calls electrician friend of his. Electrician friend suggests a few small things to try. Nothing works. Meanwhile Husband has left Shit Job and started working full time at the garage, which is good, we both like it much better, but he doesn’t get paid until a project is finished and the customer pays the garage owner. Which is why I am picking up the job at the factory, so we have a steady paycheck.

Electrician friend says it might be the electrical box, which is almost a grand just for the box itself. Says that it might have been shorted out by the bad meter when CMP tried to turn the power back on. Electrician friend offers to come up and look at it Saturday (this was this morning, Friday). We thank electrician friends profusely.

We were supposed to dogsit for my mum and go to the Renn Faire. Had to bin the Renn Faire and I came down solo to my mum’s (which is how I’m posting this) to hang with the dog, do a metric fuck ton of laundry, and take my first shower in three weeks. Tomorrow we will find out whether we have to beggar ourselves to try’n fix the electricity, or if there is a simpler (and cheaper) fix.

So if y’all have any good vibes to spare, I could definitely use them, cuz this has been some ridiculous bullshit.

Good news is I start work full time on Monday!

#ruby liveblogs life #i am exhausted and probably in the process of developing a stress ulcer #i hate capitalism with every fiber of my being

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

Text

What Have I Done? - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Angst, Physical injuries, cursing

Summary: An argument gone out of hand. Y/N just wanted Katsuki to be home more. They’re married and yet she barely sees him throughout the week. When she finally speaks on her hurt feelings, she gets a reaction she definitely wasn’t expecting.

Chapter 1 -> Chapter 2

A/N:.....I cried while writing this.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

‘He’s gone already. Again. Like always.’

Y/N had awoken to another empty bed. Her husband’s side of the mattress remained cold and empty. This wasn’t anything new. It’s been like this for the past few months. She would wake up alone, eat breakfast alone, spend her day alone, eat dinner alone, and go back to sleep at the end of the day...alone.

It’s not that Katsuki is intentionally ignoring Y/N. He loves her with his everything, he truly does! But villains never rest and neither does he. He’s so preoccupied with hero work that when he does get a day off, his friends drag him away to a bar or game night. Y/N always ran through his head but she had always been so understanding. And besides, she knows how busy the life of a pro is. She used to be one so she gets it. Right?

Wrong. She doesn’t get it. Because even when she was a pro, her and Katsuki always found time for each other. And ever since said man made her quit, claiming he could take care of both of them easily and he would feel better knowing his beloved is safe at home, they’ve seen each other less and less. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Y/N was willing to quit her dream because she found a new dream in Katsuki. She always imagined that being his little housewife would give them more time together but the opposite of that came true. Now she sits in the big empty house with no company for hours on end.

Her sadness builds up every day. She misses her husband. She tries to be an understanding wife but at this point, it’s like he’s not even trying to make an effort to see her. It’s like he’s settled to just coming home to her sleeping form and waking up to her in the exact same state, leaving before he can witness her do anything else. He should understand her though, no? I mean, she had brought it up to him in a very casual way and so he never took it seriously, but she’s mentioned it before. He should have a pretty vivid image of how shes been feeling. Right?

After 6 months of loneliness and being ‘Katsuki-deprived,’ Y/N made her move to speak to her husband about her feelings. She already imagined the outcome. An argument due to Katsuki’s brash behavior and her ‘never back down’ attitude, sad times bringing in the silent treatment for the two of you up until the both of you give in and forgive each other due to the love you have. Finally ending in a compromise. Y/N released a heavy breath as she looked at the time.

1:36 a.m. Just a few more minutes until Katsuki’s home.

—

He was pissed. 3 large scale bank robberies, 10 villain-wannabe fights, an argument with his publicist about his ‘out of line attitude,’ and Deku replacing him on a random ass billboard. The last detail wouldn’t have mattered if it was anybody else but the fact that it was Deku had him riled up. He just wanted to go home to a quiet house with his beautiful wife and admire her gorgeous, slumbering state. However that was not what he was greeted with.

Katsuki grumbled as he unlocked the front door and walked in. He noticed the lights were still on and saw Y/N still awake, seated on the couch. On any other day, he’d be elated to see his wife was still up. They’d talk and cuddle and go to sleep together. If he was lucky, they’d both make love until the sun rose. But tonight, that wouldn’t be happening. He wanted a quiet house with his sleeping wife. Not..whatever was about to happen. He sighed as he dropped his bag at the front door and sloppily placed his keys in the glass bowl near the door.

“What’re you doing up dumbass?” He asked as he walked to the kitchen, not even bothering to take off his shoes. He needed a drink.

“I was waiting for you, Katsuki. I just wanted to talk to you about something,” you said in a soft voice, hoping it would suppress his for sure incoming anger. Katsuki closed the fridge with a kick to the heavy door and chugged down a quarter of his drink.

“I’m not in the mood. Had a shitty day and I wanna sleep. Just go to bed.” He said sternly while trying to finish his beer as fast as he could.

“Don’t you think I would’ve done that hours ago? I wouldn’t have stayed up and waited for you if this wasn’t important. Please Katsuki, I really wanna talk.” Bakugou was beginning to grow annoyed. Why wouldn’t you just drop it already? He squeezed his bottle hard enough for it too crack before he spoke with a louder voice.

“Y/N! You’re not listening! I’m tired. I had a horrible day and I just want to sleep. I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to stay up anymore, and I don’t want to listen to whatever bullshit you’re about to complain and bitch about like you always do!” He screamed. His words made your jaw drop.

“Not listening?! That’s all I do! All I do is listen to your every command so that you come home happy-“

“Well it looks like you failed today!” He said, cutting you off.

“Quit interrupting! And what was it that you said?! All I do is bitch and complain?! I’m trying to talk to you about something serious here Katsuki!” You pleaded, still hoping he would give in and listen. And he did...just not in the way you’d expect.

“Fine then! If this’ll get you to quit being an annoying ass waste of time, then speak! Talk! What the hell do you want?!” He asked, screaming at you, furious at all the dramatics you’ve brought up in one night.

His words kind of stung. ‘Annoying ass? Waste of time? Is this what he thinks I am?’ You grew silent at his insults and Katsuki seethed even more.

“Oh what? I scream at you and you bitch up? Toughen up Y/N, jeez. Quit acting like a baby! Tell me what you wanted to say!” He yelled.

“.......I just....I just wanted you to spend some time with me. .....Be home more.” You said in a quiet and broken voice. You looked down to the now very interesting floor as you played with your hands.

“Seriously? This shit again? I’m a pro-hero, Y/N! I’m busy! I’m not gonna drop saving lives just because your brat ass wants someone to notice you! Since when were you such an attention whore?” He asked while rolling his neck to relieve his strained muscles. Your eyes widen at the ground due to his words and your head snapped back up to face him.

“A-attention whore? I-...I just want my husband to stop working so much. I don’t know..maybe have a day off or two!” She said with a crinkled nose as you screamed.

“I do have days off, Moron. It’s why I’m not overworked, ever thought about that?!” He screamed back.

“And you spend those days off away from me! I’m not trying to act like the world revolves around me but I would hope my own husband would spend a day with me instead of his friends that he ALWAYS sees because you ALL WORK TOGETHER!” You argued. You made a valid point and even Katsuki knew that, but he was too stubborn to admit defeat. He was still tired but he had enough energy to put you back in your place. His eyes popped as a vein grew on his neck.

“Well- WELL YOU’RE ONCE AGAIN JUST BITCHING AND COMPLAINING LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO! I DONT UNDERSTAND WHY YOU’RE SO UPSET!” He screamed.

“Don’t understand?! You know what? I know you don’t because you never listen to-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, I WASNT DONE TALKING! ALL YOU DO IS SIT AROUND THE HOUSE, LAZING AROUND, DOING NOTHING BUT TRY TO ARGUE WITH-“

“LAZING AROUND?!” You shouted in disbelief. “WHO MAKES YOUR MEAL PREP THE NIGHT BEFORE SO YOU CAN ENJOY IT AT WORK AND IN THE MORNING? WHO CLEANS THE ENTIRE HOUSE EVERYDAY WHILE YOU’RE GONE? WHO MAKES SURE YOU HAVE A FULL FRIDGE, CLEAN HOUSE, GOOD FOOD, AND A HAPPY LIFE? ME KATSUKI! ME!”

“Happy life? DO I LOOK HAPPY TO YOU BITCH?! NEWSFLASH, IM NOT! SO CONGRATS Y/N! YOU FAILED ONCE AGAIN! AND WHO GIVES A FUCK IF YOU PLAY MAID WHILE IM AWAY?! IM BUSY SAVING THE FUCKING WORLD! THE LEAST YOU COULD DO IS BE A GOOD WIFE SINCE YOU CANT EVEN BE A FUCKING PRO ANYMORE!” He insulted again.

“because of FUCKING YOU!” You argued once more.

“I DID IT FOR YOU!” He said while throwing his bottle to the wall, causing it to shatter. “I DO EVERYTHING FOR YOUR UNGRATEFUL BITCH ASS! I PAY THE BILLS! I BRING HOME THE CASH! I GIVE YOU THE MONEY TO BUY ALL THE FUCKING FOOD, CLOTHES, AND ANY OTHER STUPID SHIT YOU WANT! AND ON TOP OF THAT, I STUFF YOUR STUPID CUNT TO PLEASURE YOUR UNGRATEFUL ASS. AT THIS POINT, YOU’RE JUST A WALKING HOLE FOR ME TO USE!”

His words hurt. They broke your heart. Did he really feel this way? If so, why was he even with you anymore. You notice a smirk grow on his face at your bewildered state. He looked as if he just won something. However, the smirk dropped into a scowl once he saw your eyes begin to pool with tears.

“Oh great! Cry! Go ahead! Just shed your fucking tears like you always do! I’m going to bed! Come join me when you’re done being an annoying bitch.” He said and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he began to walk away. You didn’t want the conversation to go this way and there was no conclusion. You needed this to be resolved now. You just wanted your husband back. You reached out to stop him from walking but the unforeseen happened.

“Katsuki..don’t walk away from thi-“

“DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME!” He said and smacked your arms away with a burning palm. Without realizing, Katsuki began to spark his quirk and so when he went in to push you away, he burned your forearm.

A loud blast and smoke filled the room and your screams of pain invaded his ears. The sound made a shocked face grow on him as he quickly turned to see the damaged he had caused. His heart sank as he saw you crying while holding your burnt arm with your other hand. You were slightly hunched over in pain as you took notice of the damage that had been caused. That he caused.

“Y/N!” Bakugou softly shouted as he ran to you. He wanted to help but before he could even lay a finger on you, you flinched. The action caused him to hesitate and hold himself back. He ran to the kitchen sink to get a cold rag and he brought it back to you. “Baby! I am so sor-“

You pushed him away and off of you as you quickly walked to your bedroom with a shadow casted over your eyes. Tears still flowed down your cheeks as sniffles could be heard from your cherry red nose. Katsuki couldn’t believe what he just did and ran to follow you.

“Y/N! Please listen! I didn’t mean it! I don’t know how that happened Teddy Bear but I swear I didn’t mean it! I swear I didn’t mean any of the bullshit I said! I’m sor-“

*SLAM* *click!*

Katsuki realized he followed you out the kitchen, through the living room, up the stairs, and to the entrance of the master bedroom you both shared before you slammed the door and locked it right in his face.

“Baby! Please open the door!” He said while knocking in a very rushed manner. He wanted nothing more than to help you and treat the damage he caused to his beloved wife. He had royally fucked up. He began turning and jiggling the locked knob in an attempt to get it open but failed. “Please Y/N! I have to take care of you and that burn. I’m so sorry but please let me in!”

On the other side of the door, you pressed your back against it as you held in your sobs and slid to the bottom. You pulled both lips in to conceal your voice while you held your wrist to examine the burn on your arm. It was so bad. Your skin turned an angry shade of red as it blistered and bled. You were dripping blood all over your carpeted floor and so you ran to the master bathroom in the bed room.

You turned on the sink and placed your forearm under the cold, running water. The water soothed it a bit but it wasn’t enough to cover the pain. You turned off the sink and grabbed a hand rag as you patted down on your wound. You took out the first aid kit and cared for yourself. You had to take the alcohol to clean it and sucked in a breath before you poured the solution over the burn. You screamed as it seemed to have hurt 10x more. After dabbing cotton over it, you wrapped it in bandages and took a breath of relief.

‘What just happened?’ You thought to yourself.

The entire time, Katsuki was still begging for you to open up. He heard your scream and grew frantic. He banged on the door and cried for you, still hoping, praying, that you would let him in. When nothing happened, he resorted back to calling out for you but to no avail.

About an hour went by and it was almost 4 in the morning. You sat on the bed with your arms holding your knees to your chest. You stared at the wrap as the memories of what went down tonight flashed through your brain.

‘Waste of time...brat ass...attention whore...ungrateful...annoying bitch.’

His words struck you right in your heart. Cruel thoughts began to fill your head.

‘He doesn’t love me. He hates me. I’m worthless.’ Your thoughts would’ve continued until a quiet knock snapped you out of you mind.

“....Y/N?...Baby?” It was Katsuki of course, but a softer version of him. A broken one. “..I don’t know if you’re listening or if you’re awake..but I need you to know that I’m so so sorry.” It was easy to hear his muffled and staggered voice that exposed his tears and sobs. “If I could turn back time right now, I would do tonight all over again, I swear. I would’ve came home and listened to you. And we could’ve talked things out. We would’ve came out of this problem being a stronger couple than we were before...because that’s what we always do. We always make it out of the dark together..because we’re a team..and I need you. .....Please...please don’t leave me Y/N. I love you so much. ‘M so sorry that I hurt you..that I burned you..that I’m such a terrible husband. But I promise you I’ll fix everything in the morning...................Teddy Bear?”

He didn’t know it, but you were listening. You heard every word but refrained from speaking. You knew that the second you did, you’d break down and go crawling back to him....but you didn’t want to do that. You wanted to leave. He physically burned you and you wanted to leave. You were going to sleep for a few hours, and when you would awaken, you would pack a bag and leave. And so, you began your plan and tried to get some sleep as tear streaks marked your face. It would all be over soon.

You woke up to the morning sun.

6:50 a.m.

You rose out of bed and rubbed at your puffy eyes. You quietly got ready in the bathroom and applied the slightest bit of makeup to look more presentable. You took out a pair of shoes and tossed them to the center of the room. You were in your closet and pulled out a bag. You stuffed it full of a few clothes for you to wear, you couldn’t stay here. Not after what he did. You fought through the pain as you pulled on your jacket and placed your shoes on. You wiped your tears as you picked up your purse and got ready to leave. You were going to stay in a hotel. Didnt matter where or how expensive. You just needed to get away.

Finally, you walked to the exit of the bedroom. You took a breath before you slowly turned the knob and was greeted with the sight of a sleeping Bakugou. He had slept in the hallway in front of the bedroom, still wearing the same clothes from the night before. His knees were scrunched up with his arms resting there to be used as a pillow. He layed his head atop of his arms and as you looked down into his hands, you saw the rag. The exact rag from the argument. The rag that he attempted to use to help you. Little did you know, Bakugou hadn’t planned on getting rid of it until you let him use it to help you. He wanted nothing more than to fix his mistake and cater to you and your wound.

You shook your head as you felt tears began to fill your eyes but you refused to let them fall. You took a step and sadly awoken the exact man you were trying to avoid. Bakugou had quickly woken up when he heard the slightest noise and was blessed with the beauty that is you. He looked up at you with wide eyes and a small smile.

“Y/N...” was what he whispered before he quickly got up to run to you.

“Y/N!” He ecstatically said with a hint of relief. He was about to wrap him arms around you but you kept a hand at his chest to keep him at bay. “Baby?...”

Bakugou looked at you with hurt and confused eyes when you didn’t welcome his embrace. Even when you were mad at him, you still allowed him to hold you so what gives? He looked at you and your attire. He noticed your jacket and shoes and saw you holding a bag. “W-what are you doing?”

You walked away from him but he snatched your wrist to make you turn to face him. “Y/N! What’s going on?!” He frantically asked with crazed eyes. You snatched your wrist back and ran down the stairs and he copied your actions. He followed you into the living room until he grabbed your wrist once more. You tried to pull away again but found it harder because this time, he gripped it tight.

“W-where are you going baby?”

“Dont call me that.”

“What? Why? Baby, please tell me what’s going on.” He begged as he squeezed your wrist.

“What’s going on? Are you serious? What does it look like? I’m leaving!” Bakugou’s eyes went wide once more and shook his head.

“N-no! No, why!?”

“Why?! Look at my arm!” You screamed.

“I know! I know and I’m so sorry! But..but you don’t have to go! I can fix you up, I’ll take you to recovery girl, I will bring you to the best hospitals around the world to fix that for you! Just please don’t go!” He bargained and offered everything but you weren’t budging.

“It’s not just the burn Bakugou.” You deadpanned with a nonchalant face. His heart felt heavy after hearing your voice refer to him with his family name.

“..I-it’s Katsuki! Your Katsuki! It’s Suki, baby please!” Bakugou stepped closer as he cried once more but you backed away again. His hold on your wrist still strong as his fingers played with the ring on your hand, trying to calm himself down and remind himself that you are still his wife.

You shook your head at his pleading. “Bakugou. You burned me. But not only that, you’ve neglected me for months.”

“I know that! And I’m sorry! I will spend just as much time off of work to make it up to you, I swear I will, I promise!” He once again bargained.

“It’s too late.”

“No it’s not, please, it can’t be!”

“It is Bakugou-“

“KATSUKI! ....please...please don’t call me that. I’m your Katsuki,” he said with a whimpering voice. At this point you felt the tears come through, but you still didn’t allow them to fall.

“Katsuki...I can’t stay here. Too much damage has been done.” You said with a soft voice. Bakugou continued to shake his head ‘no,’ but you already made up your mind. You used your wind quirk in your hand and blew his grip off your wrist. You took the quick opportunity to walk to the door but Bakugou grabbed your bag off your shoulder in a childish panic and attempt to get you to stay.

“Hey!-“

“Please Y-Y/N! Please don’t leave me! I- I know I’ve been a terrible husband! I’m sorry! B-But I promise I’ll do better. I’ll stay at home more, I’ll spend more time with you, Please!”

“Katsu-“

“I’ll buy you whatever you want! I’ll get you all the expensive brands, I’ll find you all the best jewelry, I’ll give you all the money in the world! I’ll give you the whole world! Please stay! I love you so much Y/N!”

“Katsuki, give me back my bag,” you tried to reach for it but Bakugou kept it away from you and pulled you in with one arm and held you in a tight embrace as he cried on your shoulder.

“Please...you can’t do this to me. I need you. I love you! I’ll do better! I’ll be a better husband, I swear..just please don’t go.” He softly spoke with a broken voice and soft hiccups. It was wrong for you to do this, but you sighed and pretended to forgive him as you wrapped your arms around his torso. You hugged him tight and he fell for it as he openly sobbed now. His other arm that held your bag came to wrap around your waist but before it could, you snatched the bag out of his hold and pushed him away. You ran to the door and held a tight grip on the knob as you picked up your car keys. You saw Katsuki attempt to run back to you but you created a strong barrier of wind to protect you. “IM SORRY Y/N! PLEASE DONT!”

You took off your ring and tossed it to him through the barrier. He was quick to catch it and hold it right in fear of losing it. He had to find a way to get it back on your finger. “No..baby...Teddy Bear please!”

“....I’ll send you the divorce papers....Goodbye Katsuki.”

With that, you walked out of the door, still keeping the barrier alive. Once you started the car, you dispersed of the wind and Bakugou opened the door and ran to your car.

“Y/N wait! Please!” He cried out but he was too late. You pulled out of the driveway and drove off quickly down the street. He watched your car go as he began hyperventilating and tugging at his ash blonde locks. He ran back inside the house with your ring in hand as he looked for his phone. He found it on the kitchen island and quickly dialed your number. Of course, it went straight to voicemail but that didn’t stop him from calling about 50x more.

“This-...this has to be some stupid dream. A fucking nightmare...” he said as he tried to hide in denial. “Yeah...a nightmare. This is what it is...I’ll..I’ll wake up soon and she’ll be by my side in the morning...sleeping peacefully...and I’ll take the whole week off and spend it with her. She won’t be mad, we’ll be happy like we always are. S-She won’t leave me.”

Bakugou had an insane smile on his face with eyes of distraught on him. He clumsily made his way back to his bedroom where he flopped onto the large mattress and tried to get some sleep. He would sleep the whole day away if it meant you’d still be by his side when he woke up. The ring you abandoned was held tight in the palm of his hand as he held it close to his chest. His sobs overcame him but did aid in his journey to slumber. Eventually, he knocked out and a smile of bliss adorned his face as he assumed you would still be there in the morning.....oh how wrong he was.

The very next day, he woke up at 5:30 like he always did and quickly looked to your side of the bed. It was cold and empty. He was lonely. The exact same feeling you got everytime you woke up without seeing him for the past 6 months.

6 months. You’ve been married for 4 years and together for 8. Out of those 8 years, Bakugou spent 6 months neglecting you..and now...he lost you.

He stared at the empty space and bawled his eyes out like a baby as he screamed. He got out of bed and walked to the kitchen. Maybe you were cooking breakfast! You weren’t. Kitchen was empty. He ran to the living room! Maybe you were just watching some TV and reading a book, looking all cute and domesticated like you usually did. No, you weren’t there either. Bakugou checked every room in the house and when he couldn’t find you..he snapped.

His heart beated at a rapid pace as he trashed the entire house. Breaking windows, flipping desks, smashing furniture. He used his quirk to create blasts and burn marks into the walls and floors of the house. He did everything to get his frustrations out. The entire time he shouted and cried as rivers of tears flowed down his cheeks.

When he was done, he sat in the middle of the destroyed living room, laying his back against the flipped couch. He sat with his knees scrunched up as he hunched over, staring at the ground. His nose and eyes and basically his entire face grew puffy and red. His hair was a mess and so was he. Silent tears continued to drop, but his throat was too dry and hurt far too much for him to make anymore noise. However, he did fight through the pain to say one final thing:

“What have I done?”

A/N: hi cubsss! So a lot of you may know that my very first post, writing piece, and short story (He’s Lost) was created around angst, a breakup, and the fact that the triggering point was Bakugou physically hurting Y/N. I’ve been thinking about it and I HATE MY WRITING IN THE FIRST POST! It was terrible! Why tf did y’all like it so much?😭 And so, I’ve created a new piece revolving around the same elements, sorta as a way to check my progress. I hope you enjoyed!

ALSO!!! If you guys like this enough, I’m willing to turn it into a small yandere short story if you Cubs are down for that. Let me know and I’ll make it happen! Love you Cubs! See you next time🧸💗

3K notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Risk it - Harry Styles

a/n: this came so fast and typed most of it out at work lmao, but i kinda dig how it turned out!! hope you’ll like it too! as always, feedback is very much appreciated!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 11.8k

masterlist

You shake yourself a little bit to get rid of the spicy coldness that’s been lingering around in the city in the past few days. It’s only the end of August, but feels more like late October, though they say the warmness will return for a few more weeks shortly. That would be much needed, you’d love to enjoy some more lunches out in a park or down near the river before you are forced to withdraw into the insides for the rest of the year.

Looking around in the packed pub you look for the familiar golden locks of Piper and you quickly spot her in one of the corner booths, laughing joyfully with pinked cheeks probably from the almost empty pint of beer in front of her. Marching through the place you slide into the booth joining the group of three.

“And there she is!” Piper cheers.

“We thought you’re gonna bail on us,” Abigail snickers and you just roll your eyes.

“I said I would come, just had some work to finish before,” you tell them, shaking your cardigan down your arms quickly, the air is thicker, mustier and much warmer in here, but it’s not surprising, the pub is packed, just as usual on a Friday evening.

“You work way too much,” Piper shakes her head in disapproval as she downs the rest of her drink.

“I’ll be working way less from September.”

“Yeah, but you’ll spend the rest of the week in school, so it’s gonna be the same!” Mona chimes in with furrowed eyebrows.

“They promised me a fat raise if I get this degree within the next three years, I could definitely use the extra cash so I can finally buy my own place soon,” you explain.

You know they understand the situation and they wish you the best. They want to see you succeed in life and in your career, they just love teasing you about how dedicated you are towards your work, having to say immediately yes when your boss told you you’d get a new position and a raise if you finish the masters you never got to two years ago. You already had a handful of credits done that you’ll be able to get accepted, meaning you only have about one year worth of credits to finish in two years while working. It might get a little overwhelming to have an almost fulltime job and go to school but you’re determined to do this.

“We know, we know,” Abigail chuckles. “Alright, no more work or school talk tonight. We are here to let loose, so let’s get another round!”

Soon enough you are nursing a beer of your own, enjoying your time with your friends. It’s been long all four of you were free on the same night. Piper got married last year, Abigail’s work forces her to travel around a lot and Mona has a bitch of a boss, making her work overtime a lot, so it’s been hard to fix up a date that fits everyone. It’s been like this since you all finished your bachelors three years ago. You like to think you’re still a fresh little young adult who just barely stepped out into the big world, but it’s not true, hasn’t been for a while. You’re 24, you have a career, you live on your own, you take care of yourself fully. You are an adult, whether you like it or not.

Drink after drink, the four of you are getting tipsy, having an amazing time talking about the stories you shared back in university. Piper was your roommate first year uni, Mona and Abigail were in the room next to yours and you quickly became close friends, moved in for the rest of your studies until you all went your own ways after graduation, but keeping in touch as much as possible.

“I’m gonna get another one, but that’s gonna be my last one, because I have some work to finish in the morning,” you announce climbing out of the booth.

“No work talk!” Mona and Abigail shout at the same time making you laugh as you just wave them off and head to the bar.

You’ve been waiting for the line to get shorter, now only a few people are lingering around so you patiently wait for your turn, clutching onto your card in your hand. You don’t pay much attention to the tall guy next to you, only when someone bumps into you from behind and makes you fall against his side.

“Oh shoot, sorry! Someone pushed me,” you apologize immediately as the guy looks at you over his broad shoulder and your gaze meets a pair of green eyes framed with long lashes and a curious look in them.

“No worries, Love,” he smiles and you almost gasp at the British accent that laces through his voice. You take a quick moment to inspect the man, he is standing almost a full head above you, wearing a simple black shirt and brown slacks, a set of bulky rings sitting on his fingers that are spread out on the counter in front of him, his whole left arm covered in ink and you feel the urge to examine every figure on his golden skin. His chocolate curls are kind of a mess, but still look well placed, you bet he is the type who only runs his fingers through his hair and makes it look breathtaking. He is handsome and definitely your type, looks older than you, but you wouldn’t think he is over thirty.

“What’s your order?” he asks and your eyes snap up to him, realizing he is still looking at you.

“Huh?”

“What’s your order? I’ll get it for you so you don’t have to wait longer.” “Oh, I’ll just have a stout,” you tell him, feeling a little flushed from his offer. His eyebrows rise in surprise. “What?”

“Didn’t take you as a stout person is all,” he smirks at you as the bartender appears in front of him with his drink, asking if he wants anything else. “And a stout, please.” The guy nods and disappears to get your drink.

“I uhh—I only have card though,” you speak up realizing you can’t pay it back to him.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s on me.”

“Oh, no, that wouldn’t be fair,” you protest and he seems amused that you don’t just let him pay for your drink.

“How about this: you pay for the next round. Me and my mates are sitting over there, just come over when you finish this,” he offers, pointing at two guys sitting a few booths away from you and your friends.

“This was supposed to be my last round. I have to work in the morning,” you breathe out tilting your head.

“What? Work on Saturday? What kind of job is so cruel to make you work on a Saturday morning?” he asks with a boyish smile.

“One that pays my bills and most importantly my beer,” you chuckle softly.

“Okay, then make it just a soda,” he cheekily says and you feel giddy that this man is so keen on having another drink with you.

“I guess that could work,” you smile just as the bartender appears with your drink and the handsome man pays for the drinks, just then you realize you don’t even know his name. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” you tell him taking your beer. He tugs his wallet into his pocket before holding a hand out for you.

“Harry. Nice to meet you,” he smiles warmly and the moment you take his hand, you feel the tiny sparks. This man is surely something else. “I’ll be waiting for our next round,” he cheekily tells you raising his glass before the two of you part and go back to your own groups. As expected, your friends are already waiting for you with wide eyes and excitement, having witnessed your little chat with Harry at the bar.

“Who was that?! No, wait, it doesn’t matter. You need to go home with him!” Abigail smacks her hand to the table earning a chuckle from you.

“Don’t be dramatic, I just met him.”

“And you have to get to know him better. Deeper, you know what I mean?” Mona prompts.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you all. He is hot, but I’m not looking to day anyone right now.”

“You know, it’s starting to get boring to hear you say that you are just working on yourself these days. That’s not what you’re doing,” Piper gives you a look. “You are wasting your time on work and school and all these stuff that will be there when you’re older. Live a little, Y/N!” she begs.

“You guys make me appear like a no fun bitch, but that’s not who I am!” you defend yourself, though you know they just want the best for you.

“A fun bitch would ditch us right now and go over to their booth and then ride his dick all night.”

You gasp at the unfiltered answer you just heard from Mona, but deep down, you know she is right. You haven’t really let yourself be a little crazy in a while, your one night stands stopped the moment you graduated and stepped into the world of work. It just didn’t fit into your everydays, you had a lot to worry about, making a living and keeping your life on track, but you have it all now. What’s stopping you from hooking up with a cute guy?

“I’m not gonna just ditch you guys, came here to spend time with you!”

“Shut up, we are leaving then,” Abigail snaps, downing the rest of her drink in a blink of an eye and for a moment you’re speechless.

“What? No! We never get to spend quality time together, all four of us!”

“Honey,” Mona sighs. “We love you and we know you need this. So go, get the tatted hottie and we’ll meet up another time when you’ll get to tell us all about how good the D was.”

“Jesus, you guys are unbelievable,” you chuckle shaking your head, accepting the fact that they are really forcing you to do this.

They all quickly finish their drinks and get ready to leave, hugging you before they exit the place, leaving you alone in the booth. Staring down at the stout in front of you, feeling nervous to just walk up to the guys a few tables away, though Harry told you to go over, however he didn’t invite you to join their group, just promised another round.

You take a few long gulps, hoping the strong drink will bring out your courage and before you could talk yourself down you grab your bag and drink, heading over to Harry and his friends. He is sitting at the far end so he easily spots you walking over, perching up in his seat when he sees you approaching.

“Hey,” you greet them all with a shy smile, waving around. There’s a blond guy sitting across Harry and a brunette with equally as many tattoos on his arms as Harry.

“Hey, you haven’t finished your drink,” Harry observes with a small smirk.

“Um, no. But my friends left and I was wondering if I could… join you guys.”

“Oh, the honor is yours! Take a seat beautiful!” the blonde one immediately slides further into the booth so you can sit across Harry. “I’m Niall, what’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“So very nice to meet you,” he grins at you, words thick with Irish accent. “That’s Louis over there,” he gestures towards the third man who nods in your way with a welcoming smile.

“Hi. I’m hoping I’m not interrupting though.”

“Oh, never,” Niall shakes his head immediately. “We saw you chatting up Harry at the bar, have been teasing him about going up to you since then,” he cheekily comments and you see Harry giving him a look, but Niall couldn’t care less.

All three of them are hilarious and you love the dynamic in their friendship. Niall is clearly the loud one, Louis is the cheeky who is always up for some mischief and Harry is somewhat the serious bloke, but it’s clear he doesn’t say no to any crazy ideas his two friends make up. You love the teasing and joking, they make you feel welcomed and as if you’d known them for longer than just an hour. As promised, you pay for Harry’s next drink, but you stick to just a lemonade, not wanting to overstep your own boundaries.

All while you’re sitting with the guys, you keep catching Harry eyeing you, your gazes meet over your drinks and at one point you feel his leg finding yours under the table, your ankles pressing together as he nudges you with his feet. You feel like a giddy teenager flirting with her crush, Harry’s effect on you is probably very clear too, but you don’t care.

Louis is the first one to leave and Niall follows not long later, leaving you alone with Harry. The nerves are raging in you as you try to figure out which way to take it. Though he seems like a nice guy, you still don’t want to take it any further than a hookup. Dating is just not in the cards for you right now. But how do you imply a one night stand? Do you ask him to come to your place? Or do you go to his? You would rather go to his so you can sneak out first thing in the morning, spare you an awkward talk over breakfast before you leave.

“We should… get going too,” you suggest and Harry nods in agreement, finishing up the last gulps of his beer. You take a deep breath and decide to just be straight forward. “Maybe I could go to yours? Have another round there?” Your suggestion comes out fainter than you intended, but you still manage to sound confident. Harry seems a little surprised, but he doesn’t voice it.

“Another? Thought you were done for the night,” he tells with an amused smirk.

“I’m sure you have something alcohol free,” you shrug innocently.

“I surely do,” he nods. “Alright, let’s get going.

He calls an Uber and the two of you sit close in the car, thighs touching and at one point his large hand finds your thigh, squeezing it gently that sets a fire in your core almost immediately. It’s been long you’ve been touched by a man, you were starting to forget what it feels like, but you know Harry will remind you well about it.

He lives in a nice townhouse and you note how it’s not too far from the campus you’ll be going to a lot in a week. He keys the two of you in, switching the lights on in his cozy home. It’s not messy, more like lived in. A lot of books everywhere, the furniture doesn’t match, but all together, the whole place is pulled together somehow. It’s very like him.

“So, what would you like to drink?” he asks walking into the open concept kitchen, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard. “I have some tea, orange juice, water…”

As you watch his broad back, his muscles moving under the soft fabric of his shirt, you quickly forget about any drink. You want him and you want him now. Walking up to him you slide between him and the kitchen counter, catching him by surprise when you cup his face in your hands and pull him down into a hard kiss, but a moment later his arms wrap around you, lifting you up from the ground until you are sat on the counter. You open your knees so he stands between them, his crotch meeting yours as you kiss messily, all tongues, tugging and nipping, but oh my! You absolutely love it. The man has a mouth full of magic and you can only imagine what else he can do with those lips.

A whimpered moan leaves your mouth when you feel his growing bulge rub against your core as his lips travel down your jawline and throat, kissing and licking on your heated skin.

“Harry, bedroom,” you demand grabbing onto his shoulders and he doesn’t waste a moment, picking you up into his arms and heading somewhere down the hallway. You can’t quite comprehend what way it is, you’re way too lost in the feeling of his lips on your collarbone and neck, surely leaving marks on you.

He lays you down to a king sized bed and gets on top of you right away, following his wandering down your body. His ring clad fingers work fast on the hem of your shirt, pulling it off you in a moment before he kneels up and gets rid of his own shirt. He looks breathtaking, all the tattoos littering his chest and stomach, you just want to kiss all of them, feel his skin on your lips.

As he unbuckles his leather belt you push down your skinny jeans, throwing the item to the side without ever taking your hands off him. The man surely has all your attention.

When his slacks join the rest of your clothes on the floor he climbs on top of you again, kissing down the valley between your breasts that are still covered in the lacy bra. Your underwear doesn’t match, but something is telling you Harry is more eager to see you without them than to examine them. When he hooks his fingers into your panties and starts pulling them down, you reach to your back, unclasping the bra and in a blink of an eye, you’re lying completely naked in front of him.

“Fuck, you look so hot, Y/N,” he breathes out before those magical lips start working on your nipples, making you moan and whimper under him.

Kissing down your stomach he spreads your thighs wide, gazing down at your naked sex and for a moment you feel a little self-conscious, but the lust in Harry’s eyes quickly makes it disappear.

“You’re gonna let me have a taste, baby?” he murmurs, sending shivers down your spine as you nod eagerly.

He is not a tease. Harry dives right in, his lips meeting your clit, working his magic and you cry out his name, fingers tangling into his locks to keep him in place, not that he is about to stop anytime soon. He clearly enjoys pleasuring you.

“Oh fuck!” you gasp when his tongue runs down your slit and he slowly pushes into you, making your back arch. You need him inside you, you need him to fill you up right now or else you’ll burst. “Harry,” you breathe out, tugging on his shoulders, urging him to come back up.

He climbs up your body, a satisfied smirk on his glistening lips and when he kisses you hungrily, you can taste yourself on him.

“Condom,” you urge him, hands pushing down on his briefs, lips still locked as he reaches to the bedside table. You hear the familiar sound of the package ripping before he leans back, your eyes falling on his naked erection for the first time and your lips part seeing his cock, knowing already he’ll feel you up so well. He rolls the condom on easily before returning to you, but you don’t stay in that position too long. You want to ride this man, see him come undone under you. Being on top is already one of your favorite positions, but with Harry, you just know it’s going to be amazing.

You push on his shoulder and he understands your intention without a spoken word, so he rolls to his back and lets you straddle him, glancing down at his cock that’s now grazing his lower stomach, so hard and throbbing just for you. His fingers dig into your hips when you wrap a hand around his length, positioning him to your center.

“Oh fuck!” he moans when you ease down, his cock filling you up inch to inch, feeling so amazing like nothing before.

“Shit,” you breathe out gasping when you sit on him fully, taking his whole length inside you, stretching your insides so nicely, your wet walls hugging him perfectly.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs lowly as you start buckling your hips, moving back and forth, up and down, the friction you’re creating swallowing you up entirely.

Harry can’t take his eyes off you, a hand wandering up to cup your breast and you cover his hand with yours, encouraging him to squeeze, making you moan passionately. He starts buckling his hips in sync with your movements, meeting you with every little thrust, hitting just the right spots, building up your orgasm so easily like no man has ever done before.

“Harry, oh God!” you moan, falling forward, leaning onto your arms next to his head, your lips meet in a hungry and demanding kiss as he wraps his arms around your body, thrusting up into you hard and so good, you whimper against his lips.

“You’re gonna cum for me, baby? I wanna see you feel good,” he pants, never slowing down. A few moments later he rolls the two of you around, your back hitting the sheets again as he moves one of your legs to rest on his shoulder, hitting a spot that almost makes you see stars.

“Oh yes! There! Don’t fucking stop!” you cry out so loud, you can only hope the walls are thick enough to keep your voice locked in the room.

“Not planning to,” he chuckles shortly before burying his face in the crook of your neck. You hold onto him for dear life, fingers digging into his sweaty skin, feeling as if you are melting into him.

Harry rocks into you relentlessly, your toes curling as you feel your orgasm finally arriving, making you gasp for air.

“Harry! I’m gonna cum!” you moan and he lifts his head, never stopping, not even for a second. His green eyes lock on your gaze, curls flopping into his forehead as he watches you in awe.

“Let it go for me, baby. Cum all over me, I wanna see how good I’m making you feel.”

“So fucking good!”

He picks up his pace just enough to make you lose your mind. It hits you like a pile of bricks, your orgasm washing over you in intense waves as you moan his name again and again. Your walls clench around him and it’s enough to throw him over the edge as well. His thrusts become uncoordinated and harder as his mouth hangs open.

“Fuck, Y/N! You feel so fucking amazing!” he whimpers through his pleasure and you watch him fall apart, panting and gasping for air, trying to remember every little detail about him. This is an experience you surely won’t forget and will probably fantasize about a lot when you’re alone at home, playing with yourself, seeking release.

A few more sloppy thrusts later he stops, kissing your lips passionately before he pulls out and falls to the mattress next to you. You both need a few minutes to recover from it, just panting and laying numbly next to each other, Harry’s arm thrown over your stomach. You turn to the side and immediately meet his glistening eyes, filled with satisfaction and bliss. When he finally recollects himself he pecks your lips softly before leaving the bed. You watch him remove the used condom, tie it and toss it into the small trash can near his dressed before he moves to the bathroom. When he reappears, he is wearing a fresh pair of boxers and he has a wet washcloth in his hand. Sitting beside you he gently cleans you up as you murmur your thank you.

“Want something to sleep in?” he asks then and you nod. He grabs you a t-shirt and a pair of loose shorts that you put on gladly. They smell exactly like him, soap, something citrus-like and a hint of anise.

He returns to bed and pulls you into his embrace, you gladly make yourself comfortable curled up to his side. Lying there, feeling his fingers gently running up and down your arm almost makes you want more from him. You could get used to share a bed with him and it’s not just because of the mind-blowing sex, but he is a lovable person. You feel bad you’re planning to leave without a trace in the morning, but then you tell yourself it’s what has to happen.

Harry doses off soon and you follow him right after, the warmth of his body puts you to sleep easily. When you wake up it’s still clearly early. Harry is sleeping soundly next to you, face squished into the pillow and you almost stay, wanting to see what he’s like in the morning, but you don’t let yourself change your mind.

You get dressed into your own clothes and leave the ones he lent you on top of his dresser. You tiptoe out of his room and grab your bag before looking for a piece of paper and a pen. You quickly scribble down a short note for him.

“Had fun last night. Hope you won’t be mad, but I only saw it as a one night stand. You’re an amazing man, Harry. I’m glad we met. Xx –Y/N”

It’s more than nothing, than leaving without a word and you don’t let the guilt take over you. Taking one last look around, glancing in the way of the bedroom where he is still asleep, you pack it all up and put it to the back of your mind before walking out.

The last week before your classes start passes by faster than you imagined. It’s your last week fully in the office so you try to work a little ahead, staying in afterhours so you won’t have that much to take care of while you get used to being a uni student again. You usually get home after nine and basically fall into bed right away, and you even work during the weekend before the Monday when school starts. You go to bed way too late so it’s not a surprise you wake up late. You get ready in a rush, throwing out your plan to get a coffee on your way out the window since you are way behind time. Running across campus you’re lucky you already know your way around so you don’t have to wander around, looking for the room you have to be at, but even when you finally reach the right hallway you’re ten minutes late to the class.

Introduction to International Relations, held by Prof. Styles, 8.30-10.00, it reads on the little timetable attached to the way next to the closed doors and you pray the man didn’t start in time, so you’d be late with just a few minutes. Taking a deep breath you push the door open trying to make no sound and unfortunately, you are met with an auditorium full of people, everyone looking at you as if it was against the law to be a little late to class.

What the Hell is wrong with students these days? Being late was usual when I was a freshman, you think to yourself as you step inside, closing the door behind you, getting ready to apologize to the professor.

“I’m so sorry, Professor Styles, I—Shit,” you end your sentence with a whisper as your eyes fall on the man standing on the podium. He hasn’t turned to you, his eyes are fixed on a paper in his hand, probably the syllabus because he must have been in the middle of introducing the class, but the sudden whispering that starts upon your apology that turned into shit, he finally looks up and his eyes fall on your frozen figure.

Professor Styles is none other than Harry. As in The Harry you met at the pub a week ago, had the best sex with and left without leaving your number to him in the morning. Now he is staring back at you with the same amount of panic and surprise as you.

“What—I uhh…” He clears his throat, looking around and seeing about a hundred pairs of curious eyes who are witnessing the awkward run-in. “Take a seat,” he then firmly says, clenching his jaw as you nod.

With your heart beating in your throat you keep your eyes down on your feet as you rush over to a free seat somewhere at the front, since the back is already kinda full.

“So, uhh—As I was saying this is an introduction so we’ll talk about a lot of different topics, I want you to have a view of the most important aspects before moving onto separate fields.”

You don’t dare to look up as Harry talks about the class, the syllabus, how the semester will be built up and what you’ll have to do to pass. Scribbling your wobbly notes, you nervously bounce your legs under the desk, flashbacks from your time with him popping into your mind through the whole lecture.

This feels like something straight out of a ridiculous movie. How is it possible, that the one time you finally decide to have a one night stand with a hot guy, he turns out to be your professor?! That’s just your luck, it seems.

Harry doesn’t drag the lecture long, dismisses everyone after an hour once every question has been answered. You plan to escape right away, but it turns out Harry doesn’t want to just sweep it under the rug.

“Can I have a word with you?” he asks stepping to your desk as you are furiously shoving your stuff into your bag.

“Uh, sure,” you nod, not like you have a choice. You’d love to run, but he is your professor, it would sit well if you ditched him on the first day of school.

You slow your packing down so you finish right when the last student has left the room. Grabbing your bag you turn to face Harry who now seems furious, vivid if you might say. He strides over to the door and shuts it before facing you.

“You said you’re working!” is the first thing he throws at you, making you raise your eyebrows.

“Because I am! I’m finishing my masters so I can get a promotion!” you defend yourself.

“Wait, so how old are you?” he asks with a puzzled look.

“I’m twenty-four, what did you think?” You feel offended, did he think you were younger or older? Neither would sit well anyway, so there’s no good answer.

“I-I don’t know, but when you walked right into my class I surely thought you were twenty or something,” he explains exhaling sharply. “Okay, so twenty-four. But still, you could have told me you are a student here.”

“Excuse you? Why would have I told you, we met that night, of course I didn’t share my whole fucking life with you! Besides, you didn’t say a thing about being a college professor either,” you spat at him and it seems like he realizes your argument is quite valid. He can’t blame it all on you.

“Okay, you’re right. Sorry.”

There’s a short silence as the anger dies down and the awkwardness and shock returns. It’s such an impossible situation, you never thought you’d have to deal with anything similar. Having an affair with your professor? This shit is straight out of some teenage drama.

“I can… drop the lecture, if you want. Only took it as extra credit, because I was interested in it,” you offer the first rational option that comes to your mind.

“No, I mean… you don’t have to. Messing around with credits at this time sucks, you wouldn’t be able to find something else.”

“Okay, so then what?”

“I guess we’ll just pretend like nothing happened,” he shrugs before his eyes meet yours. “Like you did in the morning when you left without leaving your number.”

His comment spikes, you can tell he was hurt that you didn’t stay, though now is probably not the best time to bring it up.

“Well, sorry. I didn’t think of it as more,” you dryly say.

“That’s not how you came off, however. Having laughs with me and my friends like we’ve known each other for years and then…” he doesn’t finish, but you have an idea what he wanted to say. And then you had insanely good sex and fell asleep cuddling. It feels illegal to even think about it in this building.

“Look, I’m really sorry I left like that, but look at it this way: if we would have taken it further, it would be way worse now, wouldn’t it?”

“Maybe we would have talked more later and found out about this and wouldn’t have had to face each other under these circumstances.”

He has a point, but it doesn’t matter now. The past is the past and you have to figure out how to treat this odd situation.

“You think you can forget about it and we can be professional? I really don’t want this to affect my studies,” you truthfully ask. Harry stares at you for a long moment before nodding.

“I think we can make it work. We are both adults, let’s put it behind us.” You nod, satisfied with his answer. “So what’s your major and why do you need it for your job?”

“It’s communication. I’m set to take over our international partnership groups, but the board is set on having someone with a higher degree. I told my boss I started it back then but never finished when I started working. He said I would instantly get the position if I finished my masters, so… here I am.”

Harry nods, chewing on your answer. Suddenly, as you look at him, guilt washes over you. He is such a genuine and lovely man, yet you left so abruptly, never even giving him a chance. Not that it would have made this situation any different, but it seems like you hurt him.

“Harry, I really am sorry for leaving. I had a great time with you, but I don’t think dating just fits into my life right now. I felt like you’d want more and I didn’t want to deal with all the explaining and apologizing.”

“I get it. It just would have been nicer to talk it out. Not that it makes a change now,” he adds with a soft smile.

“So we’re good?” you ask hopefully.

“Yeah. Professional and all,” he smiles nodding and you feel like a rock has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Great. Well, I guess I’ll see you later, professor,” you add a little cheekily and you see the fire in his eyes instantly, but he holds his tongue, not commenting on how sexual it sounds from your mouth. You couldn’t miss out on the teasing.

“Dismissed,” he nods turning away from you as he walks back to his desk. You walk out with the longest sigh that’s ever left your lips.

“Professor Styles! You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Piper screams at you over Facetime later that week when the two of you have your usual little chat. You’re making dinner while she lies on her couch, staring at you from the screen with the widest eyes. You just told him the whole thing with Harry and she almost choked. “The man is a professor? This shit is wild!” “Not just a professor, he is my fucking teacher, Piper!” you chuckle awkwardly. You still haven’t fully wrapped your mind around the fact that you hooked up with your professor.

“How old is the dude to be teaching at a university?”

“Well, he said he is twenty-nine. I might have done a little search and since he is british, schooling was a little different for him. Apparently, he finished high school early as a fucking genius that he is, then uni, masters and everything. He started teaching at my school two years ago. The guy is like a big name in the field of social sciences.”

“Damn, he is a gem. So what’s gonna happen now? Y’all gonna fuck on his desk after class?”

“Piper!” you snap at her.

“What? I hope you’re not thinking about passing on him.”

“I passed on him way before I knew he was my professor. We can’t have anything going on because one, he is my professor and two, because I’m not looking for anyone to date.”

“You are so full of bullshit, Y/N,” she snorts. “So what if he is your professor? Just for this semester. Keep it a secret and then it’s done. You’re not some eighteen year-old freshman, he is just five years older than you.”

“You can’t be serious,” you shake your head. “I’m not going to have an affair with my teacher.”

“Not an affair, a relationship! You gotta hold onto good dick if you find one. This is what I did with Ronan,” she smirks satisfied.

“Yeah, it’s not happening.”

“Why not?”

“Piper, have you been listening to what I was saying?” you ask in disbelief. “Yeah, five years is not much, but I’m pretty sure there’s a rule against teachers dating students.”

“Rules are for losers. You literally found the perfect guy and you’ll just throw him away? Said it yourself after your hookup that you liked the guy. Why are you being so difficult?”

“Sorry for not wanting to get myself or Harry out of the university,” you scoff turning the stove off under the sauce before you burn it all.

“Harry? So you’re just calling him Harry?” Piper wiggles her eyebrows at you, leaning closer to the camera and you just groan at her. How was this the only thing that stuck to her?

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you mumble under your breath.

“Okay, yeah, I get you. I truly do. But I’m also your friend who wants to see you happy. So I’m just saying that if he makes a move… be open. He is your professor for only one semester, so once it’s over you are free to do whatever. Fuck, date, anything.”

Soon enough you fall into a pattern with your everydays. Mondays, Tuesdays and Friday mornings are for school. Wednesdays and Thursdays are spent on campus at your lectures and you usually go into the office on Friday afternoons to make sure everything works fine before you go off for the weekend. Having so many credits accepted from before, you have less classes meaning that you have less work to do with school as well. There are a few papers and assignments, but nothing too crazy. You genuinely enjoy your classes, each of them unique in a different way but if you’re being honest, Harry’s class is your favorite. He has done a great job at building up the lectures. Introduction classes tend to be shallow and boring, but not Harry’s. He has chosen interesting but still important topics and he makes sure the students are always involved and he isn’t just reading up his slides dully. There are a lot of discussions, everyone gets to tell their opinion and Harry genuinely seems interested in anything his students have to say.

You also came to realize his class is full of girls, only a handful of men dared to sign up. You didn’t pay attention the first time for obvious reasons, but as you looked around the next week you saw heart eyes and lustful gazes towards the man standing on the podium talking. You’re not sure if Harry doesn’t notice it or just chooses to ignore it, but he is doing a good job at staying professional. In the aspect of your situation as well.

For a bit you were afraid he would have hard feelings towards you or treat you differently, but it’s not the case. You are just another pair of curious eyes and ears at his lectures, only that sometimes you catch yourself daydreaming about that one night. When that happens you can always feel yourself blushing and an irrational fear that Harry can hear your thoughts invades your mind, though it’s stupid. But you always try to stay low just in case.

It’s early October when an unexpected project lands in your hands at work, setting you back in your schedule. You work through the weekend just to get it right but that means that you couldn’t start working on your paper for Harry’s class that has to be turned in by the end of the week. So next Monday morning when class is over you walk up to him to ask for some more time.

“Hey, can I have a word with you?” you ask and as he glances up at you he seems surprised you initiated a private conversation.

“Sure, what’s the matter?”

“I just wanted to ask if I could have just a little more time to turn my paper in. I know it’s due Friday, but I’m a little behind and it would be amazing if I could work on it on the weekend. I’m sure I’d be done by next Monday.”

You’re afraid he might think you want to use your history and take advantage of it, but it seems like Harry looks more concerned than upset about your request.

“Yeah, sure. Everything alright though?”

Your eyes wander around the room, only a few more people are left inside and they are heading out as well. For some reason, you are a little paranoid that someone might figure out what happened between you and Harry though it’s nearly impossible.

“I’m good, I just got some extra work last week and it totally threw me off.”

“Oh, what kind of project?”

“I just have to put together a communication plan for three of our partners and it’s taking way more time than I expected,” you admit with a chuckle.

“I think I have an amazing book about international communication plans. I could lend it to you, if you’d like. It has amazing tips on sustainability.”

“That would be… amazing,” you say, surprised by his nice offer.

“Are you on campus tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I have a lecture. I can come by your office.”

“Fantastic,” he smiles warmly. “And don’t worry about the paper. You’re not the first one to ask for more time. If you hand it in on Monday it’s gonna be perfectly fine,” he assures you.

“Thank you Harry. I-I mean Professor Styles,” you correct yourself, feeling awkward that you called him by his first name, but he just chuckles.

“You can call me Harry outside class.” “Okay,” you smile nodding. “Then, see you tomorrow,” you say as you leave the room.

You spend the rest of the day working unfortunately, still a lot to do with your project. It’s hard to harmonize three different companies from three nations, working in different time zones. The next day you decide to skip your lecture in the noon. The professor is not too strict on attendance so you’re just gonna find a nice coffee place, set up a temporary office and work some more so you can finish everything on time.

You find Harry’s office easily. The door is open and you spot him sitting behind his desk right away, searching for something in a stack of papers. His office resembles a lot to his home, it has a cozy vibe but looks still very much academic with all the books lining on the shelves on the two sides of his desk. You knock on the doorframe as you arrive and his green eyes shoot up to your figure.

“Hey! Come on in!” he smiles at you. “Just a moment please,” he asks, still vigorously flipping the pages until he finally stops. “Here it is, I’ve been looking for it for ages,” he mumbles to himself and you smile. He looks a lot like the version of him you met at the bar. A fun, nice guy, clearly a little lost in his own world, but it amuses you rather then annoys. You wonder what could be happening in that brilliant mind of his.

He pushes himself away from the table and walks over to his bag that lies on the small sofa in the corner. Digging into it he pulls out a thick book that he hands over to you.

“Wow, lengthy,” you chuckle as you flip through the pages quickly.

“Yeah, looks a little dry but I promise it’s good. I put a note to the chapters that are the most relevant to you,” he explains and just then you spot a yellow post-it on one of the pages, a few more following behind.

“Oh, thank you. That’s really nice of you.” You smile up at him warmly, holding the book to your chest. “I’ll bring it back as soon as I’m done.”

“Take your time,” he nods. “And how is it going so far?”

“Uh, it’s… going,” you say with a tired chuckle. “It’s a little tricky, but I’m sure I’ll solve it. I’m gonna work some more on it now, so hopefully I’ll be done within the next few days.”

“You’re not going to class?”

“No, I allowed myself a skip this week so I’m gonna find a café or something.”

“You could… stay here, if you’d like. I could even help if you let me have a look at it. I mean I’m not an expert in communication but I’m good with multicultural stuff.” His offer catches you by surprise and for a moment you want to say no, but then you realize he might actually be helpful. Another set of eyes is always beneficial.

“You don’t have a class?”

“Not until four, no.”

“And you sure I can stay? I don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not. Please, I would love to take a look at what you’ve put together.”

You hesitate for another moment, but then let your bag slip off your shoulder as you walk over to the armchair in front of his desk.

You pull your laptop out of your bag and set it on the table so both of you can see from the two sides of the desk. You open up what you have so far, explaining it in details and Harry listens intently, nodding and humming along so you know he is following. At the end you tell him your concerns, the ones you’ve been trying to rule out these past few days so you can finish it all up.

“This looks amazing, Y/N. I’m very impressed by the way you synchronized it all.” “Thank you, but it’s not perfect, so I have a lot to work on. Any thoughts though?”

Harry asks you a few questions before he gives his two cents, telling you what he would do and change. His point of view actually helps a lot, allows you to see the whole thing from a different angle and he gives you some awesome tips. Before you could realize, the two of you are deep in the project, all kinds of books splattered across his desks as you work together to finish the thing. Two hours pass by as it was just two minutes, but at the end, you have it all figured out.

“Oh my God. I can’t believe it’s done!” you breathe out, scrolling through the document you put together for your boss. Everything is put together, well-thought and in place, thanks to Harry’s help. “Harry, thank you. You literally saved my life,” you chuckle softly, leaning back in the armchair you haven’t left in hours.

“You had a strong base, I just helped you find a few solutions, but it was all you.”

“Don’t belittle it, you literally had so many ideas even in fields you are not familiar with. You really are a genius.”

“I’m just good at using my sources,” he smiles at you, glancing down at all the books he has pulled out during the process. “It was fun working on something so practical, I’m way too used to literal things.”

“Oh stop, you want me to feel bad because you are this ridiculously smart college professor who doesn’t get to work on practical projects?” you tease him earning a boyish smile.

“Maybe I do want that.”

“Well, you’re not getting it,” you laugh and he joins you. Once the mood settles you realize how good it felt to be around him. The dynamic the two of you had was so great, working with him felt like a fun activity. And now that you’re done, you really don’t want to leave this office though you know you have to.

“You know, I might come to you with work stuff all the time. You just spared so much time for me, I really thought I wouldn’t finish before Friday.”

“My door is always open,” he smirks shrugging. “I’m glad we got to work together. You really are great at what you are doing. Your boss is lucky to have you around. I’m sure you’ll be an amazing group leader once you get your degree.”

“Thank you.”

His compliment actually means a lot. Aside from this weird situation, Harry is a brilliant mind in his field. Hearing him tell you that he thinks you are doing an amazing work is such a boost to your ego.

“Well, I owe you one for this,” you tell him as you start packing up.

“Yeah? I’ll keep that in mind for sure,” he smirks, watching you put your things away.

“Mhm, see you around, Harry,” you smile, waving in his way before walking out.

“See you, Y/N.”

Thanks to Harry you get to turn in your project in time and write his paper until the original due date as well. You send it in email and for your biggest surprise he answers later that day.

“Glad you could finish in time, can’t wait to read your thoughts on the topic! –H”

It’s a simple message, but what catches your eyes is the signature at the end. It reads his full name, Prof. Harry Edward Styles, the school’s name, his official office hours and at the very end… his phone number.

Looking at it you think it seems a little out of place, as if it doesn’t belong there originally, he just added it to your email, but you can’t tell. Is this a hint? Does he want you to call or text him? What if he puts it into every email, not just yours? Would it be awkward to text? Why do you even want to text him in the first place? You agreed to stay away from him!

It keeps eating you the whole evening, staying on your mind, doesn’t matter what you do. After you’ve drunk a glass of wine with your dinner you finally make up your mind, convincing yourself it’s strictly friendly as you type in the words.

Y/N: Turned my project in, my boss already emailed me he likes it so far. Thanks for the help again. –Y/N

His reply comes fast and luckily, he doesn’t question why you decided to text him.

Harry: Glad I could help! Ran over your paper, looks great too. You’re doing an amazing job, Y/N.

There’s no stopping after that. The two of you keep talking through texts and though it’s all casual and friendly, you don’t feel bad about it, because in class, you still keep it professional and you have no advantage. He treats you just like any other student, keeping your friendship away from whatever happens in the classroom.

The line slowly starts to blur, however. You think way more about Harry than you should and you actually find yourself regretting that you’re not able to get as close to him as you want. He fascinates and attracts you in ways no one ever could before and something is telling you he shares these feelings, but you are both keeping it at bay, afraid what would happen if you let your desires take the lead. You just wish you could go out with him, have drinks with him and his friends like the night you met him, forget about how he would always stand on the podium on Monday morning no matter what happens and he’ll be grading your papers. Mixing feelings with this impossible situation might turn it into a disaster and you know you have to stay strong, but it’s getting harder.

Harry is the kind of teacher who likes to finish his class before everyone else, so when December rolls around everyone already has their grades from the papers that had to be turned in through the semester, so when December rolls around it’s all just free talks, he starts interesting discussions about topics students want to talk about. His lectures feel like free time but still, no one skips them because they are always so entertaining and interesting.

“Alright, we’ll meet for the last time next week. As per suggested, we’ll talk about the European Union so get your questions and thoughts ready,” he smiles around, ending the lecture. “Y/N? Can we talk for a second?”

“Sure,” you smile at him. Putting your things away you walk up to his desk much more carelessly than before.

“So I have a question and you can totally tell me if you don’t want to go, but there’s this great International Affairs Summit next weekend just a few towns over, not more than a two hours ride. I thought that you might be interested in going? They’ll have some awesome presentations and displays, thought it might interest you.”

For the first time since you’ve met him, he seems nervous, stumbling over his words a little as he avoids looking into your eyes. He looks so much younger, not at all like the respected professor that he is. He is just Harry now, the guy you bonded over that stout he paid for.

“Sounds nice,” you answer smiling at him, he seems surprised at your answer. “I would love to go.”

“Really?” You chuckle at his disbelief.

“Really.”

“Just to be clear it’s not a school thing, it’s gonna be the two of us,” he clears and your grin widens.

“It’s clear. Still want to go.”

“Amazing,” he breathes out, a smile finally tugging on his lips. “I can pick you up in the morning.”

“Sure. Can we discuss the details in text? I have a meeting soon.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. We’ll talk later,” he nods enthusiastically, seemingly very joyful that you agreed to go on this trip with him.

“See you later, Harry!” you wave at him walking out of the classroom.

“Later!”

Piper would be very satisfied to know that you are going away with Harry this weekend. Though you still try to tell yourself it’s nothing more than just a friendly thing, you’re not fooling yourself. You want it to be more and now that the semester is over, your doubts and fears are almost fully forgotten and left at the beginning of September. Soon Harry won’t be your professor and you now see that it wouldn’t be that bad if something more happened between the two of you. You grew close through the year even though you only kept in touch through phone, appearing publicly wasn’t really an option, but still, you got to know him better and you liked him. A lot. There was no use in denying that.

Harry picks you up early in the morning and so the little trip begins. You take control over the music and play some of your favorites to him while he drives, educating him on recent popular music. Then he shows you some of his favorites, playing a lot of Fleetwood Mac and you weren’t expecting anything else from him.

He looks great today in a creamy colored knitted sweater, black wool coat and grey checkered slacks. His hair is now longer than when you met him for the first time, but it just adds to his amazing look, he rocks it pretty well.

The two hours pass by fast and you arrive to the Summit. Checking out the program the two of you choose the presentations you’re most interested in, leaving some time in the middle of the day to have lunch somewhere near.

You choose a sandwich bar that has a nice winter garden at the back looking out to a little pond. You sit at a small table, the conversation hasn’t stopped since the morning, only paused when the presentations were happening, but you always picked up right where you were before. Harry tells you about his time at university back in the UK and you’re a little surprised to hear that he was kind of a wild kid for a while.

“You? Wild?” you laugh. “I can’t picture it.

“It was mostly the first year though. Felt like I can’t miss out on anything so I was at every party and gathering,” he chuckles softly.

“And why did you stop?” “I don’t know,” he shrugs, but you know he is not telling you the truth, so you gently kick his leg under the table. “Alright, but you can’t laugh!”

“I won’t, I promise!”

“It sounds very nerdy, but I fell in love with studying. I mean I was always a good student, that’s why I could finish high school earlier, but I did it to be done with it already. But then I grew an odd love to studying, to learning new things. I wanted to read every book there is, know everything in the world.”

“And do you know everything now?” you ask with a soft smile, completely in awe with how he talks about his passion for sciences. You don’t find it funny at all, more admirable.

“Not even a fraction of it,” he chuckles. “But I learn something new every day,” he shrugs.

“What did you learn today?”

“That Nicki Minaj and Miley Cyrus had… beef?” He is a little unsure about the last word that you taught him today in the car when you were listening to a song from Miley. It sounds so funny hearing from his mouth.

“Yeah, beef,” you nod chuckling. “Great knowledge you’ve learned today.”

“I learn a lot from you,” he smiles cheekily. “But really. I’m glad you could come today. Felt like I needed to take this step since you took the one before this.”

“Huh?” you ask, a little confused about what he is talking about. Then, as if he realizes he just said something he shouldn’t have, he chuckles nervously, keeping his eyes on his iced tea on the table.

“Well, I hope this won’t be too weird, but when you emailed me your paper back in October and I replied… I put my phone number into my signature and told myself that if you use it, I’ll take it as a hint that you… are open to more. And you did send me a text, took the risk so I thought I should be taking it next.”

You look at him in awe. So you were right, he did put his number in just for you and wanted you to use it. You’re amazed at how sneaky he was to find out how you’re feeling about him, but now you’re glad you took the risk and texted him.

“So you asked me to come today. I see where we are standing,” you nod smirking.

“You’re not mad? At the number thing?”

“Why would I?” you ask with a soft chuckle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yes, but we agreed to keep it professional and all along I yearned for something more and threw you this hint. When I sent the email I wanted to take it back immediately, thinking that you’d see through me right away,” he admits.

“Well, I didn’t,” you tell him making him laugh. “I debated for a long time whether I should text you or not and then just… said fuck it!”

“I’m glad you did,” he smirks and his gaze holds yours for a little, you can feel the moment you’re sharing. This conversation has definitely opened a door for the two of you.

The rest of the day passes by peacefully. You love having Harry with you and discuss the presentations with him later. He has a great mind, you love sharing your thoughts with him, get deep whenever something really catches your attention. It’s so easy to talk to him and you actually feel like he values your thoughts, unlike some men you had to deal with in the past.

During the ride back home you keep thinking about whether you should take it any further or not. You surely don’t want him to be just a one night stand anymore, it’s still very fresh but you actually feel like you’ve started falling for him and you wonder where he is standing in the situation right now. Today has changed a lot so when he parks in front of your building, you decide to just risk it again, like you did it so many times with him.

“Would you want to come up for a little? I could show you that article I talked about today,” you say, trying to sound calm though you see the surprise in his eyes, he wasn’t expecting this invitation.

“I… would love to. You sure it’s not too late?”

“Positive,” you smirk at him unbuckling yourself.

He follows you up to your apartment. It’s definitely not as big as his home, but you take pride in it. It’s the perfect size for you and you’ve worked a lot on making it your home. Harry is looking around, inspecting the place as you walk into the small kitchen and grab two bottles of beer, offering one for him.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, following you to sit on the plush couch you adore so much. It feels like a cloud is swallowing you up. “This place suits you.”

“Thanks. You know, this is what I thought about yours too.”

“Yeah? I think mine is just a mess,” he chuckles, taking a sib from his beer.

“It’s a good mess. Liked it.”

There is some tension, but in a good way if you might say. As if you both were unsure about where it’s heading, walking on eggshells, not knowing where the boundaries are lying as of right now.

“You know, the semester is almost over,” you imply, giving him an innocent look.

“I’m very much aware of that, the pile of tests on my desk waiting to be graded reminds me every day of it,” he chuckles making you smile too.

“Mhm and it also means that very soon you won’t be my professor anymore.”

You scoot closer, your knees coming in contact with his thigh and he sucks on his breath, looking down at the spot where you two touch. You really hope he won’t turn you down, because you’ve already gotten your hopes up about making it work.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” you nod confidently. He doesn’t move and you’re losing patience. So grabbing his beer from his hand you place his and yours as well to the small coffee table before shamelessly swinging a leg over him, sitting on his lap. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders and his hands immediately find their way to your waist, his thumb caressing the skin that shows from under your ridden up shirt. However you see hesitation in his eyes.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s going on in your head, talk to me,” you ask him softly, tilting your head to the side.

“I just… I know soon it’s gonna be alright for us to… you know. But I… I hope you know it’s not a game for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“That I’m all in, Y/N. I know it’s been a crazy few months, but I really like you. A lot. I love talking to you, I love it when you are talking so passionately about things that interest you. I love how open and hardworking you are. I think that you’re an amazing person and I don’t want this to just be some passing, quick thing. I’m serious about this. About you.”

You can’t hold your growing smile back as your hands move up to cup his cheeks. Leaning closer you peck his lips softly.

“Great. Because I’m serious too.”

Harry breathes out in relief and a second later he is kissing you hungrily, letting his desire take over after holding back for so long. You weren’t the only one having a hard time during lectures. He hated how he always found himself looking in your way, thinking about how beautiful you are, how amazing it felt to hold you in his arms and it ached his heart that he had to keep himself so far away from you. When you took the risk and texted him, he could cry in excitement and he knew right in that moment that he is fucked for you.

Though it started a little rocky, now that he has you in his arms again, he wouldn’t change a thing, because it brought him to this very moment and he is overwhelmed with joy. He is more than ready to show you how serious he is about you, not just with his words but his actions, so he is quick to leave the couch and navigate into your bedroom to relive that mind-blowing night the two of you shared back in late August.

“Congrats, Miss Y/L/N. We are looking forward to seeing you work your magic as the leader of the group.” The executive manager shakes your hand and you see your boss from the corner of your eye, looking at you proudly.

“Thank you. I won’t disappoint,” you smile back.

You say your goodbye to everyone else in the room before finally heading out with the widest smile on your face. You did it. You finally got the promotion.

You finished your masters just a month ago and this meeting was scheduled almost immediately. For a while you were afraid they wouldn’t wait until you finish your studies, but they proved that they wanted no one else but you, making you feel so valued.

Walking back to your office you do the rest of your work left for the day, finishing up every pending task so you can be free for the weekend. When five o’clock finally comes you pack up and head out. Pushing through the double doors you step out into the warm July afternoon, immediately spotting a mop of curls you know all too well. Harry is waiting for you leant against his car with a huge bouquet of flowers, smiling at you with pride as he watches you cross the parking lot.

“What’s this for?” you ask teasingly when he pushes himself away from the car and kisses you softly before saying anything.

“A little something to celebrate your promotion.”

“How do you know I got it?” you ask, trying your best to sound serious. He narrows his eyes at you in suspicion.

“I knew you’d get it, who else would get it? Did they not fucking give it to you?” he asks, working himself up at the thought that you weren’t the one to get promoted.

“Relax, I got it,” you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him a little longer this time.

“I was ready to fight whoever I needed to,” he mumbles against your lips, a smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth.

“What a gentleman,” you giggle pecking his lips again.

“That I am. And not just because I would throw a fist for my love, but because I knew you’d get it so I went ahead and booked us a mini vacation for this weekend. So let’s head home, you have thirty minutes to pack before we leave,” he smirks down at you, clearly satisfied with himself.

Harry is always full of surprises. In the one and half year you’ve been officially together, he never failed to surprise you with the tiniest things, make you feel loved and appreciated no matter how long you’ve been dating.

“Where are we going?” you ask in excitement, eyebrows shooting up on your forehead.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

Harry listened to every hint you’ve dropped how you’d love to spend some time away in some cabin in the woods, disconnecting from the world just for a little and he found the perfect place for that a few hours away. He knew you’d be the one to get promoted so he took the risk to book it weeks ahead, making sure you’ll have the perfect place for the celebration. You have a slight guess it’s gonna be like that because Harry is great at taking hints, but what you doesn’t know is that deep down his already packed suitcase, there’s a little velvety box with a ring inside it that he plans to put on your finger this weekend, hoping you’ll give him the answer he wants to hear.

And you will. Because you are head over heels in love with this man, have been for a while and you want to spend the rest of your life with him.

The two of you head home and your hand finds his over the shifting gear, lacing your fingers together with his. Glancing at you he kisses your knuckles, pressing a long kiss to your empty ring finger.

“I love you,” he tells you and the three little words never fail to make your heart flutter. While the lamp is still red you quickly lean over and steal a kiss from his soft, pink lips.

“I love you too, professor,” you tell him teasingly. He didn’t like it when you called him that back when he was still just your professor, but since the air has been clear, he grew a liking to it, especially because he can’t get enough of hearing you moan it in the bedroom.

You call him a lot of other pet names too. Baby, H, Har, Sweets, whatever comes to your mind while he likes calling you his baby, Angel, Princess or Love. And as the two of you head home he thinks about how he wants two new names to be added to the list. Husband and wife.

Thank you for reading! Please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

@harrysgloves

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katierosedreams2 · 2 years

Text

Bad driver

“Fuck you Ray” I said as I flicked off my old best friend as I posed for his stupid picture next to his car.

“Shut up. It’s not my fault you lost the bet because you couldn’t drive your car, crashed it, got arrested and then couldn’t pay bail! I own you now you little bitch!” Ray said in a threatening way.

He was right. I did owe him. I lost the bet we made on the race. The loser had to be humiliated on social media by pretending to be the others' “fast and the furious girl”. It was just supposed to be a joke, just a dude in a skirt or something silly. But when I totaled my car in the race, I got arrested for reckless driving and couldn’t pay my bail. Well that’s when Ray said he would pay for it, but I had to go all out for the bet. I’d have to be a girl full time for enough days until he felt like he was compensated for the money.

I thought it was stupid and ridiculous, but I didn’t have much choice. Ray and I have been friends since we were kids. Even though he’s gay and I’m not, that’s never got in the way of our friendship. We’ve always hung out and had similar interests. He wasn’t a girly gay guy, no, he was a big buff dude with a lot of manly interests. He did like girly gay guys though. He called them “sissy’s” . It always made me uncomfortable how he would comment on how short, or small framed, or even feminine my body and face was. Or how I had such a soft sweet voice.

But that never got in the way of our friendship, he was a nice, fun, kind guy. And he took bets very very seriously. And he took someone owing him money even more seriously. Both him and his older sister ,by two years, did. They were both very wealthy and successful. Their parents died when he was only 19 and I helped him get through it. They both used their millions to start very profitable businesses that grew a lot in only a few years. Ray started a chain of custom car shops and a few gay clubs. And his sister opened up a chain of beauty salons, and bought in on several fashion franchises.

I, on the other hand, was from a very poor family, and I often had odd jobs to pay the bills, but I was mostly unemployed. That was nice though, because we got to hang out all the time. We still play video games and raced our cars around, and now that we have just turned old enough to drink, we go to bars often.

That was until this dumb bet. A lot has changed and it has only been a week. As soon as he paid my bail, he dropped me off at one of his sister's salons where she and her team went to work, completely feminizing me. They styled my already long hair and put in hair extensions to make it even longer. They waxed my whole body, which hurt so badly! They also pierced my ears and gave me big hook earrings. They did my nails and did my make-up. They showed me how to do it. As well as gave me all that I would need to do it every day. I hated this, I didn’t want to learn any of it! I looked like a pretty girl, with my big pink glossy lips and dark smokey eyes with huge lashes. I looked like the kind of girl I’d try to go on a date with.

Then his sister drove me back to their house. They had a huge mansion and her closet was its own separate room. It looked almost like a mall! And she only wore flashy, trendy, slutty kinds of clothes. To make things worse, I was so skinny. I found out we were the same size!

She had me try on so many clothes for me to wear during this time. She thought it was so funny. The outfit she told me I had to wear for today was this small white top that said “Fast and Furious” on it in pink writing. She thought it was just too perfect. Then she made me put on this tiny little g string. I knew I wasn’t a big guy down there, but now I could see just how small I was. I completely fit in her little panties, I hardly made a bump. She handed me this micro little pink shiny skirt. She said it matched my lip gloss. It was so weird to slide this small skirt up my legs. Feeling its slippery fabric against my smooth skin. I hated that it actually made me feel feminine and sexy. Last was the thigh high vinyl boots, white, and just as shiny as the skirt with a 4.5 inch heel. I looked like a slut. The kind of girl I’d drool over and wish I could date. I really hated how indistinguishable from a real girl I was.

After that humiliation, she packed several girly bags full of clothes and shoes just like this outfit. Then she handed me a little pink vinyl clutch purse that matched the skirt for me to put my phone and wallet in. I looked like a girl going out to a club desperately trying to suck a dick or get laid. I was so embarrassed.

Ray showed up and I took my bags full of cute clothes and makeup and put them in the trunk of his car. He told me I looked beautiful, with this creepy look in his eyes. Like he wanted to fuck me. I was terrified.

When I got in his passenger seat, he made me sign a document about the conditions of my compensation. I signed it without reading it. He laughed and said “You stupid sissy! You didn’t even read it! Here I’ll read it to you so you don’t have to worry your pretty little head!”

The conditions are, I have to dress like this every day. At all times, I should be made up and dressed like a girl until I have paid them back in full. I must always have fully manicured hands, and must always be in makeup. I also must always wear high heels. I must also remain hairless from the eyes down. No exceptions.

Next, I owed him $50,000 for the bail, then I owed his sister $5,000 for the make-over and $1,000 for the make-up. They were marked up because it was a rushed last minute appointment that happened after hours. Then $10,000 for her to lend me her clothes. They were expensive, and there were a lot of them for her to not have for her to wear. Also, I would have them for such a long time. Then another $3,000 to him because he won the bet.

Conveniently, that worked out to $69,000, he said with a chuckle. Since I didn’t have a job, I could pay it off by working as a part-time intern for his sister's salon for $2 an hour. Also, as a dancer at one of his gay clubs, for $1 an hour plus 0.5% of the tips I make. After all, this was an inconvenience for both of them. And sense I’d be an intern, who don’t NEED to be paid. Also, being a dancer, that counts as entertainment, so I also don’t need to be paid hourly. I should count myself lucky they are even paying me at all.

I did the math as quickly as I could in my head as he told me this. It was hard to think with all of this happening so fast. Even if I worked at his sister's salon 20 hours a week and then danced at his club Thursday through Saturday nights for 6 hours every night, I’d only make $58 a week! I told him “That’s not enough money to even feed myself, let alone pay rent, to get a new car, and pay you back! It would take like 20 years or something to pay you back!?!? How do you expect me to do that!?!?”

He then told me about the bonus opportunity’s.

1-I can post sexy photos and instagram for $1 each.

2-I could donate all of my male clothes for $100.

3- I could move in with him for $75 a month.

4-I can be his personal maid for $50 a month. I must wear a uniform and complete daily chores. I must also refer to him as master and his sister as mistress.

5-I could lock my dick in a micro chastity for $250, he holds the keys.

6- I could do daily oral dildo practice for $5 a week. As well as daily anal dildo practice for another $5 a week. Must be recorded for proof.

7- I can suck his big dick for $10.

8-I could let him fuck me for $50.

9-I could get my make-up permanently tattooed for $100.

10-I can get laser hair removal for $100.

11- I could orally please any man he brings over for $15 a person

12-I could anally please any man he beings over for $60 a person

13-I could take daily female hormones for $5 a week

14-I could get lip injections for $100s

Then he read the added conditions.

- I must expand and grow my girly wardrobe at my own expense.

-I must not acquire any clothing that is male.

-I must pay for all of my own manicures, salon visits, makeovers, makeup.

-I must pay for all of my food and transportation

-I must not talk back to Ray.

-I must also pay all of my other bills and loans

-I must ask Ray to get a bonus. This must be recorded, he may also decline my bonus if he feels it’s not deserving.

- if I need money, I can take a loan out from Ray at a 20 percent interest rate.

-failure to complete any of the requirements of this contract will result in legal and criminal actions.

I was shocked. I couldn’t believe what had happened to me. Here I was listening to him dressed like a total slut, realizing I had no choice but to legally be his slut! I was required by law to dress like this every day, and the only way to make this not take 20 years was to pretty much be his full-time live-in slutty girly gay boi!!!

Ray laughed as he pulled over in an empty parking lot. He could see the shock and disgust in my pretty make-up face.“So what’s it going to be first sweetie?”he said with a big smile across his face. “ You know what you still owe me that picture we originally bet on! I tell you what, you can beg me for some bonuses first.” He said, taking out his phone, “ but I’ll only let you beg to first do 5, then beg for 3&4,and then you can give me a 7 before we do 2. But only if you ask for them all. Otherwise, it might be a long long time before you get another opportunity. You must ask for them word for word.” He said with the biggest grin.

He knew he had got me. I could feel all of the anger, frustration, sadness and embarrassment of my situation building. Humiliated, I asked as he recorded on his phone “please, ray, may I lock myself into a micro chastity and give you the keys to keep. Then may I please move into your house and be your maid. Do daily chores while dressed in my uniform and call you master. But before that, my I please..” oh my god I can’t believe I have asked for all of these things! And I couldn’t believe what I’m about to ask next, I thought. I continued realizing how girly I sounded,"...suck your big dick and then go to my house to gather and donate all of my male clothes?”

He chuckled from behind his phone. “Sure thing sissy bitch, open the glove box.” I did as I was told, the only thing in it was what must be the smallest chastity in the world! It was a steel cage that was maybe half an inch long. I pulled up my sexy little skirt and down the g string. My dick looked so little, and I just about died from the humiliation. I hardly had to stuff myself into it. I handed him the keys and pulled my skirt back. Smoothing it out as best I could with my long fake nails. My cage was so small it almost didn’t make a bump. I could almost cry.

Then he said “That’s not all you begged for baby, let’s get those sexy lips to work!” I couldn’t believe I was going to suck my best friend's dick, while mine was locked way in the smallest cage, and looking like a complete slut. He unzipped his pants and the biggest dick I’ve ever seen popped out! “ Oh my god, your huge!” I couldn’t help myself from saying. “ He just smiled and said “ I know”, then he reached over and grabbed my hair, forcing me down on to it! He was so strong I couldn’t resist! I was trying so hard to but he just kept forcing my head down as his giant dick filled my mouth! I could hardly breathe!

I thought back to all the time he called me girly. How he complemented my lips or face, saying how feminine they were. Or how he would talk about how thin, weak, and girl like my body was. And then all the times he has told me about how he likes girly boys.

I never thought that he would make me suck his big dick, and now I know he could have done it all along. He is too strong for me to stop. I have never had a girlfriend. I’ve never lost my virginity. I’ve never even kissed a girl. And how I’m dressed like the woman of my dream, chocking on a massive cock. With mine locked away, maybe forever. All of it being filmed by Ray to have as video proof forever.

I could hardly focus on anything more as my plump, glossy pink lips slid up and down on his huge cock. I did feel my little dick strain against its cage as he called me a “good girl” and a “natural little sissy cocksucker”, then without warning, his dick erupted so much cum into my mouth. He wouldn’t let my head up, I tried to sallow as much as I could. It started to spill out of my mouth. When he finally let me come off of it a little, it just started squirting all over my face. That was it. I really am a sissy cock sucking faggot forever.

As soon as he finished, he told me to get out of the car and pose for my photo. As I stood there tasting his cum in my mouth and feeling it on my face.

All I could say was “Fuck you Ray”. Not that it changes anything about my future. But that’s all I could do.

-Katierosedreams Og Cap

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angelicyoongie · 4 years

Text

desolate (14) - M

— summary: you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so, you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

— pairing: cat hybrid yoongi x human reader

— genre: angst, fluff, smut

— word count: 7.4k — warnings: 🔞 this chapter contains smut; unprotected sex (don’t do that tho), fingering, knotting, etc.

— tag list: @mrcleanheichou @btstxtgenre @ladymidnightt @cheese123344 @xanny91 @dinorahrodriguez @best-space-boy @dulcaet @moccahobi @keijaycreates @staytrillswag @xsmilebitesx @serendipityoreuphoria @jiminot7 @beyond-the-swag @nananaum1 @mult1wh0re @faithsummers11 @twomilkmen-gocomedy @theonewholovestoread @karissassirak @veryuniquenamegoeshere @yourlipssoirresistible @ayoo-bangtan @murderyoursoul @btsxdoll @see3milyblog @gukiyi @mtgforall @narcissism-iskey @sp3ak-yours3lf @cesthoney @imluckybitches @hd-junglebook @sugarrimajins @multifandomgirl29 @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @bangtansleftnut @theresa-nam-nam-me @angeltothecore @ghostkat23 @deathkat657 @awixxx @httpmedxsa @veronawrites @bubbletae7 @serious-addiction @chogiyeol-utopia @nomimits7 @lorielulu7 @1am9root6 @sana-b @diamonddia-mond @jiminiessipabo @myhearttteu @rainbowmagicpixecorn @lidda @rosiethefairy @lovinggalaxies @midnight1199 @trinityautumn @linniewritesficz @fearhoshi @ess-place @juniesoftbot @kingalls00 @toribug2020 @daydreambrliever @moonlight-mochi @sleepyje0n @yoonie-bby @alltimeyoongi @honestlyfuriousharmony @itsoktheresbts @suzziequeuie @miss–insanity @illnevertrustmyselfagain @annoyingpessimist @lovelikeyouwant @originalpersonawobblerduck @cigarettes-after-tears @kookie-vuitton @thefangirlsoul @lmna990 @luvshorses08 @marvelstuck @kissmeimwitchy @crazyxforxmyself @hxsxxk-180294 @ratking101 @brittaney341 @shameless-army @yuukihime2097 @adoorinyourheart @heimdoodle @kissing-fear @toripeix @horanghae18 @redperson58 @awsome-small-k @salomea27 @johnnystolemywig @mihto @jisoosbitch @lyrxbz @forever-once-gone @sugalarity @out-of-jams @ithinkileftmycoatoutside @witchxlove @chocoflagcutii @alyboo-jpeg @ladyartemesia @tatiiz24 @boinko-boye @kaceyxmarie74 @fuckthatfeeling @makepastanotwar13 @airiguk @justliketheoceann @strawbewymiwk @skswriting @kofikats @rainbow-zebra-unicorns @mhmbrigitta @forever-yoongis @prybts @phatbussyincorporated @itsmethepancake @alterlovess @boredoomfm @furblrwurblr @moments-of-melancholy @barbikatherine @crookedstarlitnight @moonlightjoonx @ibsenova-nora @aphroditis-world @ramaali1 @inhalebts @gguksfilter @kerikaaria @paradise-writings @yoongisabby @childcorrectionfacility-school @eriiiichan @baka-chanismyname @sugaesthetichoe @junasaurusrex @fluffreader @justzeera @swoozleee @beansplz @aestaeticbts23 @slut-for-fandoms @joyful-jimin @phasephoenix @nanananisstuff

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part nine Part ten (M) Part eleven Part twelve Part thirteen

For the first time in weeks, you actually feel refreshed when you wake up. You let out a soft sigh against Yoongi’s sweater, the material soft and warm underneath your cheek. You let the sleepiness fade away bit by bit, enjoying the sunlight peeking into your apartment and the steady rhythm of Yoongi’s heartbeat thrumming against your ear. You would be content with staying here forever, in the quiet and peaceful morning all wrapped up in Yoongi, but the quiet rumbling in your stomach lets you know that you might have to change your plans.

Yoongi lets out a low grumble of displeasure the moment you try to slip away from him, his arms tightening around your waist to make sure you won’t leave. Yoongi buries his nose deeper into your hair, the rumble in his chest melting into a softer purr as he inhales your scent. Your heart does a little flip at the action, a grin tugging at your lips as you press a quick peck to Yoongi’s chest. It takes a few minutes, but you eventually manage to wiggle out of Yoongi’s hold, careful not to wake him.

You wince as you open the door to the fridge, the barren inside mocking you. There are still a few days until you get paid, but hopefully this will last you until then. You decide that some scrambled eggs and toast will have to do - and you make quick work of getting everything ready. You’re leaning against the counter, watching mindlessly as the eggs start to cook and fluff up. You can’t believe you even entertained the idea of adopting Yoongi last night. You grimace, eyes gliding over to the stack of bills on the other side of the counter. You can’t even pay for your current living expenses, how the hell are you supposed to take care of Yoongi too?

You stir the eggs with a little more force than necessary, eyebrows pinched tightly as you try to run through all the possible options you have. Yoongi needs an owner – it’s the law. Even if he wanted to apply to become a free one, he would still need to be owned during the process. And if you won’t adopt him, he’ll be forced to find someone else. He’ll likely be brought to a shelter whether he wants to or not, and you have a feeling that the next person that adopts him won’t exactly see him as an equal in the same way that you do. If Yoongi leaves, there’s no guarantee you’ll even be able to ever see him again. It won’t be up to him, it’ll be something for his new owner to decide. And you don’t want that. You don’t want Yoongi to go back to the same situation he just escaped from. But what choice you do have? Especially now that your current job is hanging on by a thin thread.

You’ll just have to pick up two jobs, maybe even three if you can make the shifts match up. You managed to survive on five hours of sleep a day back in university during your exams, so it can’t be that hard to do it again, right? Sure it will probably be exhausting, but you’ll deal with it if it means that Yoongi can stay.

“What’s wrong?” You nearly jump out of your skin as Yoongi’s breath fans across your ear, his chest flush to your back as he wraps his arms around your waist. You had forgotten just how quiet Yoongi could be, truly living up to his cat genetics. You hesitate, unsure if it’s worth sharing your troubles with Yoongi if it’s only going to make him feel bad. You don’t doubt he’ll tell you it’s okay and find someone else if he thinks it’s too much for you to manage.

“Tell me, kitten. I could smell your anxiety from the living room,” Yoongi’s voice is ladled with sleep, the slight rasp making your legs feel weak. The soft fur of Yoongi’s ear brushes against your chin when you hesitantly bite down on your lip, his enhanced hearing picking up even the smallest of sounds.

“Yoongi, are you sure you don’t want to be a free hybrid?” You feel his arms stiffen, his fingers digging into the material of your – his – hoodie. “I just want to make sure that you’re making the right choice. Not to say that you can’t become one later! I just .. don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“I don’t really have the necessary funds to help you with the process, and it might take a while for me to save up if that’s what you want. I know Mr. Yang had some options for you that might be better if you want that in the near future,” You mumble. If Yoongi relies on you to become a free hybrid, it will probably take you closer to ten years to save up what he needs with the meagre paycheck you have now. That is, if you even get to keep your job for that long.

“Y/n,” Yoongi turns his head, lips meeting your throat in a chaste kiss. “I’ll tell you this as many times as you need to hear it, but I really don’t want to become one. I have more protection, more rights, as an adopted hybrid than I would ever have as a free one. It doesn’t matter what the government tries to portray it as – it isn’t true,” He lets out a low hiss.

“I just want some stability, someone I can call home. And I really want that to be you,” Yoongi murmurs.

“I want that too,” You rest a hand on top of Yoongi’s, tilting your head to lean against his. You want it so, so bad. “It’s just –“

“The bills?” Yoongi continues. You give him a weak noise of confirmation, gaze unwillingly straying over to the pile of all of your problems.

“Don’t worry about it, kitten. It’s my turn to take care of you now after everything you’ve done for me.”

You suck in a surprised breath, quickly turning around in Yoongi’s hold to properly look at him. “What do you mean, ‘take care of me’?” You ask carefully, eyebrows pinched with confusion as Yoongi’s lips curl into a blinding smile.

“Exactly what I said,” Yoongi tugs you closer, your hands falling to rest on his chest to keep your balance. Yoongi’s tail brushes across your calves, trailing up your legs until it settles around your waist, gently curling around it just above where Yoongi’s hands are resting on your hips.

“Apparently when that fucker was fined a hundred thousand dollars, it was a hundred thousand to each of his victims,” Yoongi’s lips curl with displeasure as he utters the last word. “He had made so much money on trading us that it wasn’t even an issue for him to pay up right away. He’s probably going to try to reduce his sentence by being good and paying everything he’s required to.” He lets out a humourless snort, the tail around your waist giving you an involuntary squeeze at his flaring anger.

“He’s not going to get out Yoongi. Even if they do reduce it by some years, it’s not going to be enough for him to actually get released,” You say, gently moving a hand up to cup Yoongi’s face. The cat hybrid leans into your touch the moment your skin makes contact with his, eyelids fluttering closed as you run your thumb across his cheek. There’s no way Mr. Park is ever going to get released, and even if he against all odds should, you’re going to make sure you’ll put him right back where he belongs. You mull over Yoongi’s words as he rubs his cheek against your palm, one word jumping out at you.

Us.

“Yoongi, when you said us, do you mean your .. siblings?” You watch as Yoongi’s face stiffens, the fingers on your hips digging in a little deeper, before he breathes out a low “Yes.”

You can’t even imagine how hard it much be to know that you have family out there, but having no idea where they are or how many. Considering there even was a list, and Mr. Park had been running his breeding business for years before he got caught, you don’t doubt that it has to be long.

“Do you want to find them?” You ask carefully. It must be hard, painful even, for Yoongi to know that he’s not alone; that he has siblings out there who knows what he’s been through, and likely has been in the same terrible situation as he has, or maybe even worse – but that’s also why you’re not really all that shocked when Yoongi’s eyes flutters open, his gaze firm as he takes a deep breath and then, “No. I have all the family I need right here.”

And that’s more than fine. You can’t blame him for not wanting to relive his old life through every sibling he would meet. He doesn’t deserve it. What Yoongi needs, is to move on and put it all behind him, and you’re more than willing to help him do just that.

“Okay,” You nod, stomach fluttering at Yoongi’s words. Aside from Jihyo and Sana, Yoongi is the only family you really have. You don’t see yours too often, maybe once a year, and it’s always tense, always filled with You should’ve studied this or You’re still living there? and that’s not what family should be. It’s not what Yoongi is.

“You got me side-tracked kitten,” Yoongi grumbles, nipping playfully after your hand as you slide it down to rest on his shoulder. “What I meant to say was, I have money now. For once, let me take care of you and pay you back for everything you’ve done for me these past months,” Yoongi looks down at you earnestly, hopefully, and it just makes you heart bloom even more.

“I want you to use the money to find a new place for us to live, somewhere that’s a little safer,” He takes a step closer, pulling your chest flush against his as he ducks his head down to look at you. “I’ve got no use for the money on my own, I can’t even use it without an owner–“ Yoongi pouts, his eyes sparkling as he can see your resolve begin to crumble in front of his eyes, “– so if you’re really that apprehensive about it, just think of it as doing me a favour.”

It sounds tempting. You do want to adopt Yoongi and you do want to move you both somewhere nicer, but there’s still something gnawing at your conscience.

“If I adopt you –“ The tip of Yoongi’s tail flicks excitedly along your stomach at your words, “then you have to promise me that you’ll keep your money for yourself. You can pay half, and I’ll pay half. I’m not going to exploit you.”

“Okay, deal,” Yoongi doesn’t miss a beat as he closes the last distance between the two of you, his plush lips finding yours easily. You bring your hands up around his neck, carding your fingers through the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. It’s getting long again, and now would probably be a good time to finally take Yoongi to a proper hairdresser to get it cut. A loud purr rumbles from Yoongi’s chest as you intertwine your hands in his hair, the sound echoing in your little kitchen. You pull back, letting out an enamoured laugh as you see the faint flush in Yoongi’s cheeks.

Yoongi’s eyes narrow at your amusement, his mouth opening to shoot back a retort when he stops to wrinkle his nose, head tilting to the side to look at something over your shoulder. His tail quickly detaches from your waist as he lets out a snort, and says, “I think the eggs are burning.”

“Shit!”

Your eyes shift warily around the office as you make your way inside, the cold weather still lingering in your bones as you quickly shuffle over to your desk. Jihyo doesn’t even spare you a glance as you sit down, her mouth slightly agape as her eyes stay glued to the screen in front of her.

You sweep your gaze across the office as you remove your coat, surprised to find that most of your co-workers seem to either be doing the same thing as Jihyo, or whispering quietly amongst themselves.

“Jihyo? What’s going on?” You murmur as you take your seat. Jihyo shakes her head as she mouths out email, her gaze still locked on to her computer. You frown as you quickly boot up your own, a sudden sense of urgency making you desperate to get into the system.

You tap your fingers impatiently against your desk as the computer logs you in, your hands flying across the keyboard to open up your mail. You bring up the email that says ‘URGENT’, eyes flying across the screen as you skim through it. You can feel your own mouth falling open in shock as you reach the bottom, a wave of relief hitting you so hard you might actually cry if you don’t pull yourself together.

“Jihyo?” You breathe, and Jihyo finally meets your eyes, her surprise mirroring yours.

“I can’t believe he got fired!” She hisses, and you can’t do much more than shake your head in disbelief. You can’t believe it either. All the anxiety and worries you’ve had for your future that suddenly seemed so bleak is .. gone, just like that.

The email doesn’t say how your boss got exposed for sabotaging cases, just that he got found out, and that resulted in immediate termination. Not only that – but apparently the higher ups in the company has decided to merge with another firm that specializes in the same field; expanding the company and making it so that there won’t be one boss to oversee everything, but rather new team leaders and smaller groups working together.

You suppose the thought behind it is that it’ll make it easier to see if anyone is trying to exploit their positions or somehow foil their cases. Perhaps the thing that stood out the most was the fact that anyone who has worked at either of the two companies for three years or more can apply to the new positions, and you’re qualified to do that.

Jihyo seems to be following your train of thought, because she lets out a low giggle, her eyes sparkling as she says, “You’re going to be such a good team leader.”

“Jihyo!” You scold, “You don’t even know if I’ll get it. There are lots of people who as just as qualified as me.” But you can’t help but hope. Getting a promotion would solve so much, and it would make both yours and Yoongi’s life so much easier.

“Maybe, but I don’t think anyone is going to try as hard as you,” Jihyo gives you once over, her eyebrow quirking as she sees the small tug at your lip, a faint smile you haven’t been able to wipe off ever since you fell asleep yesterday.

“I take it that you worked things out with Yoongi?” She grins. Her smile seems to grow impossibly wider at your embarrassed nod, and she lets out an extravagant sigh, hands clutches to her chest as she says, “Ah your poor competition, they definitely don’t stand a chance now.”

“I’ll go get the last one,” Yoongi says, his tail brushing against the back of your hand as he walks past you. You huff in agreement, in box in your arms feeling like it’s going to tear them clean off as you quickly shuffle into the living room. You drop it onto the nearby table with a groan, rolling your shoulders to get the ache out of them as you step back.

Your new living room is littered with boxes, everything from your old apartment crammed into one room. You’ve brought no furniture along aside from your old coffee table, the other pieces so old and worn you and Yoongi both decided it was time to invest in something new. Your new couch and bed thankfully arrived the day before, so everything was ready to move into as soon as you brought all of your belongs over to the new house.

These past months still feel so surreal. You got that promotion you fought tooth and nail for, making both your hours and your pay much better. You even have the option to work from home a few days a week now, and that’s something you’ve been taking advantage of as much as possible. Your promotion also meant that you could finally find a new place to live now that you could split the cost fifty-fifty with Yoongi. It was the cat hybrid that had showed you the listing for a quaint little house on the outskirts of the city, and you knew right away that this was the right place for the both of you. The house is everything you’ve ever dreamed of. It’s not anything grand, but it’s more than enough for you and Yoongi, a pretty little home with a garden you just know will bloom beautifully once spring rolls around.

The large windows in the living room gives the house so much light, and you feel like you can finally breathe properly for the first time in months. Especially after being confined in your little shoebox apartment for years. It was a good home, but you had outgrown it long ago – long before you even met Yoongi.

Not to mention, you officially adopted Yoongi a few weeks after he came back, not wanting to drag out the inevitable even longer. It was weird–and it still is–signing the papers that meant you now had complete and utter ownership of another person, of Yoongi, but despite all that, you know deep down that it’s for the best. That Yoongi finally has the protection and safety he craves, and if he ever wants to become free, or leave, it’s never something you’ll use against him. The papers are nothing more than a formality to keep Yoongi safe, and that’s what you cling to whenever you wonder if you’ve done the right thing or not.

One thing you don’t think you can ever get used to though, is the stares. It’s been a little over three months since the trials, but people don’t seem to have forgotten about Yoongi just yet. You suppose it’s not that weird considering it isn’t often hybrids are represented on TV, but still, it keeps catching you off guard. It doesn’t matter if people look at him with interest or thinly veiled disgust, you can’t help but feel defensive when you catch people staring. So you don’t even think twice anymore before you switch places with Yoongi as you walk, or tug him along to another area in the supermarket under the guise that you saw something new you want to try. You’re pretty sure Yoongi has caught on long ago to what you have been doing, but he never complains about it – just follows along with a smile and a squeeze to your hand, and so you take it as permission to continue.

“Last one,” Yoongi grumbles as he brushes past you, the tight-fitting sweater leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. You watch, transfixed, as his biceps strain under the weight of the box he’s carrying, the sight making your mouth run dry.

“That’s great,” You feel your cheeks flush at how affected you sound. Not only has Yoongi finally gained back all the weight he was missing, but he has also been working out, a lot. While you might not have initially pegged Yoongi as someone who enjoys heavy exercise, you’re not all that surprised that it’s a hobby he’s grown fond of either. You know it’s something many hybrids enjoy, because for a lot of them, it’s the only thing that yields any results. And so, hybrid friendly gyms aren’t only a place for them to exercise, but to make friends too. You’re sure his heightened interest has more to do about the people he trains with more than the actual training itself, but it makes him happy, and that’s all that matters. And it’s not like you mind seeing Yoongi growing buffer either, but that’s sort of the issue. Because if you thought it was hard keeping your hands off him before, it’s almost torture now.

Yoongi’s head whips around at the breathless tilt to your voice as he puts the box down, the concern in his gaze transforming into something darker as he realizes why you seem so flushed.

“See something you like?” Yoongi teases, his biceps bulging against his sweater as he crosses his arms over his chest.

Rude.

“That’s not– I’m just tired,” You awkwardly clear your throat as you shift you gaze elsewhere, anywhere, that doesn’t put you in danger of making yourself drool.

“I’m sure you are, kitten,” Yoongi hums. You can feel his dark gaze burning into your face as he steps closer, but you refuse to meet it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of watching you squirm. Yoongi doesn’t stop until he’s directly in front of you, a puff of air fanning across your cheek as he leans in closer. Soft fur brushes against your exposed ankles, the feeling so unexpected it makes your breath hitch. But Yoongi doesn’t comment on it, only presses a soft kiss to your cheek and murmurs, “You did well today. Go get washed up and I’ll start putting things away.” And then he leaves, the soft echo of footsteps making their way to the kitchen making you snap out of your daze.

The thing is, you haven’t been .. intimate with Yoongi ever since his rut. It wasn’t that either of you regret it, because you sure don’t, and Yoongi has made it very clear that he doesn’t; but you both agreed that you went about it a little backwards. So you both decided to take things slow. To do things right this time. It’s not like you don’t touch – because you very much do. You get all the hand holding, hugs, cuddles and gentle kisses you want, but Yoongi always pulls away before things can escalate into something more. And well, you always feel a little wave of relief go through your system every time he does.

You think you both might actually be a little nervous to take it any further. I do want to, but, you’re scared. Scared that Yoongi might not want you in the same way that he did during his rut. You know ruts are only supposed to amplify the needs and desires that are already there, but what if that goes for Yoongi’s enjoyment too? What if you’re not enough without his rut heightening his emotions? You know it’s silly – stupid – to think so, and that Yoongi keeps proving those thoughts wrong all the time, but still, just because you know some things are silly doesn’t mean it’s easy to let go of them.

You’re not sure why Yoongi keeps backing off, but maybe he’s worried about the same thing? Must be. You sigh, running your fingers through your tangled locks as you decide to take Yoongi up on his offer. You do really need a little pick-me up, and taking a shower sounds divine. As you make your way over to your bathroom, you can’t help the smile that graces your lips as you listen to Yoongi shuffling around in the kitchen. You know you’ll have to face those silly fears sooner rather than later, but for now, you’re happy to just push those feelings down and pretend they don’t exist.

But as always, things never turn out the way you want them to.

“Yoongi,” You pant as teeth nip against your collarbones, a rough tongue swiping over the marks to soothe the sting. You swear you have no idea how you ended up here. One second you were just relaxing on your new couch next to Yoongi after a long day of moving, and the next you’re caged in underneath his body, experiencing the most action you’ve had in months. You’re already breathing hard just from the intense make-out session you had, your lips bruised and raw from all of Yoongi’s nibbling and biting.

“What kitten?” Yoongi purrs against your neck, his fluffy ears twitching back and fourth to make sure he doesn’t miss any sound you make. The vibration against your throat makes you choke, your hands flying up to tangle into Yoongi’s soft locks.

“Are you sure about this? I don’t want to r-rush if you’re not ready,” You stutter halfway through as Yoongi licks a long stripe up your neck, his sharp teeth grazing the shell of your ear. There’s a confused huff of air, Yoongi reluctantly pulling back from your neck to properly look at you.

“Why wouldn’t I be ready?” Yoongi asks.

“Because you kept stopping whenever things started uh, heating up?” You wince at your poor word choice, Yoongi cocking his head to the side as he watches you carefully.

“I did that because of you, Y/n. You were practically choking my senses with how nervous you were – I was trying to take things slow and not make you uncomfortable.”

Oh.

“So I think I should be asking you if you’re okay, kitten, not the other way around. We can stop now if you want to,” Yoongi leans down to press a quick peck against your nose, the gentle smile on his face making your heart skip a beat.

“I’m nervous,” You admit. “The last time we did this was during your rut, and that was multiple supressed ruts combined into one, and so I’m just scared that you won’t enjoy it as much now that it’s just .. me,” You mumble, diverting your gaze to Yoongi’s shoulder.

Yoongi lets out a low growl, his tail winding around your knee as he leans in closer, forcing you eyes back onto his face as he says, “When will you learn to stop assuming things, kitten?”

“My rut doesn’t dictate anything, Y/n. What I feel during it and after it stays the same. Ruts just makes me horny for a longer period of time,” He grins at the faint flush in your cheeks, tail slowly parting your legs until he can situate himself in between them. “This–” Yoongi rolls his hips, ears perking up at the breathy sound you make as the hardness between his legs brushes against your core, “–is all you. Want you so bad, kitten. Rut or no rut.”

The slight desperation in his voice combined with the feeling of Yoongi pressed up against you, is just what you need to throw your worries out the window. There’s no need in denying yourself something you’ve wanted for so long when Yoongi obviously feels the same way that you do.

“Me too, want you too,” You rush out, eager to have Yoongi’s lips back on yours. You pull him down, fingers still tangled in his hair as he meets you halfway. It’s doesn’t take long before Yoongi deepens it, lips moving hungrily against yours as you anchor yourself in the locks between your fingers, the slight tugging only spurring Yoongi on even more.

You whine as Yoongi runs his tongue along your lips, your mouth parting automatically to let him in. Yoongi shifts his weight, the motion freeing up one of his arms. Yoongi slowly trails his hand down your chest; the unhurried touch such a juxtaposition to the feverish movement of his lips that it makes your body tremble. Yoongi lets his hand rest on your stomach for a moment, the warmth of his hand burning through the material of your shirt.

“Yoongi,” You whimper when it doesn’t seem like he’s planning on moving his hand any lower, your core clenching around nothing with how desperate you are to get his fingers where you need them.

Yoongi pulls back with a low chuckle; the sound quickly bordering on a growl the moment he sees your spit slicked and bruised lips. “Bed first,” Yoongi pants, the hunger in his eyes setting your body on fire.

Yoongi’s lips are back on yours as soon as you get up front the couch; slender hands holding your face steady as he starts backing you out of the room. You fist your hands into fabric of his sweater, tugging impatiently as Yoongi bites down on your lower lip, the low vibration from his chest a clear warning of have patience, but you’re far too needy to care. You let out a surprised squeak as the room suddenly tilts, your knees buckling against the side of the bed.

You scramble to pull yourself up further, your hungry eyes drinking in the smooth paleness of Yoongi’s body as he quickly rids himself of his sweater. You choke back a moan as he steps out his jeans, the newly defined muscles in Yoongi’s thighs making your mouth water as he crawls up the bed. You make quick work of your own clothes, Yoongi’s eyes nothing short of predatory as his gaze trails all over your exposed skin.

“You’re so pretty, kitten,” Yoongi purrs as he nudges you down, resuming the same position he had on the couch as he cages you back in. You’re both still in your underwear, Yoongi’s length straining against the material as he places his hand back on your stomach. You slide your hands up Yoongi’s shoulders until you can twist your fingers into his soft hair again, and this time Yoongi doesn’t need any prompting before his fingers slide further down your stomach, fingers hooking into the side of your underwear as he beings to peel it down.

The damp patch on your underwear only serves as evidence of how soaking wet you are already, and Yoongi’s eyes seem to grow darker, wilder, as he realizes just how ready for him you are. Yoongi surges down to capture your lips, his harsh breaths intertwining with yours as his fingers find their way back to your core. Yoongi swallows down the gasp that leaves your lips as his fingers drag between your folds, the slow friction bordering on torturous before his thumb starts doing lazy circles around your bud, your hips buckling up for more pressure.

“Don’t be impatient kitten,” Yoongi clicks his tongue, but the smugness on his face is wiped away by a sudden groan as he removes his touch from you completely, expression almost pained as he sees how his fingers are glistening with your juices. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” He growls. You can’t help the embarrassingly loud moan that escapes your lips as Yoongi starts lapping up the wetness on his fingers, his tail shuddering being his back. If you weren’t aching for Yoongi to sink into you, you probably could’ve orgasmed just from watching him. “Taste so sweet too,” Yoongi rasps.

He watches you through hooded lids as he brings his fingers back down to your core, the first finger barely even stretching your walls from how turned on you are. Finally having some friction against your walls is delicious, but one finger isn’t enough to sate the hunger burning in your belly. Yoongi adds another before you can even ask, the feeling making you mewl as you harshly tug Yoongi down for another kiss. Yoongi adds a third once you give him the clear, his fingers hitting you just right every time he pushes them back inside. You have long since abandoned Yoongi’s hair for the opportunity to explore his body, and the lean muscles seem to jump out against your fingers as you drag them from his chest to his stomach, and back up again to settle on his shoulders. You’re not sure when your bra disappeared, but thank god it did, because Yoongi’s soft lips wrapped around your nipple is enough to make your back arch, the dual stimulation almost too much.

“Need you Yoongi, please,” You beg, one hand quickly releasing his shoulder to reach down between your bodies. You let your fingers slip beneath the waistband of his underwear, Yoongi letting out a choked moan as you wrap your hand around his length. You only get to slide your hand up and down in a few quick pumps before Yoongi grabs your wrist, pulling your hand away as he rids himself of his boxers.

“I won’t last if you do that, kitten,” Yoongi grumbles, seemingly just as on edge as you are. You whine at the loss of his fingers moving inside of you, but the sigh of Yoongi’s cock straining against his stomach is enough to distract you momentarily.

“See something you like?” Yoongi echoes his words from earlier, the smirk of his face widening into a full grin as you can’t do much else but nod, your mind not having room for any thoughts except for the need to have him inside of you.

“Please,” You whimper. Yoongi grab your legs, wrapping them around his waist before he places a hand on your waist, the other guiding his cock to your folds. He keeps his eyes trained on your face for any discomfort as he begins pushing inside, the slight burn making you moan. You squeeze your legs to make sure he doesn’t stop moving, Yoongi filling you up so well you can barely think. Once he bottoms out, hips flushed against yours, he gives you a moment to adjust – and to collect himself – your walls are taking him so well that he won’t be able to last if he doesn’t try to calm down first.

“Shit,” Yoongi hisses as he draws his hips back, your tight heat around his cock making him see stars after practically blueballing himself for months. He wraps his other hand around your waist as well, giving your sides a squeeze before he slams himself back inside, setting a bruising pace straight from the start.

“Fuck, Y-Yoongi,” You moan as he shifts his hips, the next thrust hitting your sweet spot straight on.

“You were made for me kitten, you take me so well,” Yoongi’s head drops against your shoulder, a growl leaving his lips as your pussy seem to squeeze him even tighter, the added friction only spurring on the both of you even more. You don’t know whether to arch away or press closer as Yoongi begins nipping at your skin, the pressure not enough to break skin, but enough to sting deliciously every time he finds another spot to bite down on.

You cross your ankles behind Yoongi’s back, moving your hips up to meet his every time he fucks back into your heat. The pace is nearly too fast to keep up with, but Yoongi lets out a appreciate moan every time you do. You’re slightly more prepared for the stretch of his knot this time, Yoongi mumbling praises against your skin as you roll your hips against him, desperate to feel him expand inside of you.

You know you’re close, your whole body wound up so tight you feel like you’re going to snap in two. But there’s something else you want before that happens.

“Yoongi,” You bring a hand into his hair, a displeased grumble leaving his lips as you force him to pull back from your neck. “Yoongi –” You repeat, glassy eyes meeting his as he continues to fuck into you at a rapid pace, “– please mark me.”

Yoongi’s eyes grow wide, his hips stuttering to a stop as he stares down at you. “Do you mean that Y/n? You know there’s no going back from it,” Yoongi cups your cheek, the absolute adoration on his face making your heart sing. This isn’t the first time you’ve talked about it of course, you’ve had multiple conversations about it before. So you know it has to be done while Yoongi knots you, and well, you are as ready as you’ll ever be. You want to be Yoongi’s in any way that you can.

“Please mark me,” You repeat, watching as the giddy look on Yoongi’s face grows a little darker again, a possessive glint flashing in his eyes as he looks down at you. “Want you be yours – only yours.”

You only have time to suck in a breath before Yoongi’s hips pull back, his thrusts so powerful they begin to inch you up the bed as he slams back in. You still have one hand tangling in Yoongi’s hair, the other balled into the sheets, trying your best to stay in place and meet his movements. Your whole body shudders when Yoongi’s tail suddenly wraps around your waist, the soft appendage offering an extra hold on your body.

“Close, ‘m so f-fucking close,” You moan as you can feel Yoongi’s knot growing bigger, every thrust making it harder and harder to pull out. Yoongi shoves his face into the junction between your neck and shoulder, his rough tongue laving across your salty skin. It’s too much, and the moment Yoongi’s knot finally swells and locks up inside you, your orgasm hits you like a brick, your vision turning white.

Yoongi hisses as your walls clamp down on him, the added pressure the last thing he needs before his cock throbs, sharp teeth sinking into your neck as he paints your walls white. The bite is painful, but the hot liquid spilling inside of you makes you feel so good–so full–that your mind can’t make up whether it wants to focus on the pain or the pleasure.

You let out a pained whimper as Yoongi finally pulls off your neck, his tongue running over the marks to soothe the sting. “You did so well, kitten,” Yoongi murmurs against your skin, the loud purrs from his chest almost overpowering his voice when he says, “I love you so much.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before he freezes up against you, his purrs cutting off so quickly it would almost be comical if it didn’t feel like your own heart was about to burst. You can tell by how tense his body is that he would’ve fled the room already if it wasn’t for his knot keeping you together. Despite everything, this is the first time any of you have actually said it out loud. You almost slipped up a few times, but you were supposed to take things slow, so you made sure to correct yourself before you could. But now ..

“I love you too,” You whisper, Yoongi’s ears twitching against your jaw as he listens intently to your words. But Yoongi doesn’t move. At all. You use the hand in his hair to gently tug him up, your other hand moving to cup his face as he finally meets your gaze.

“What’s wrong?” You murmur. You can’t help but feel a flash of fear that Yoongi didn’t mean it, that he somehow slipped up and said something he wasn’t ready to share yet.

“I love you,” He repeats, the words seemingly rolling a little weird off his tongue, like he’s testing it out. But you see the corners of his mouth twitch, his smile only widening as he starts repeating those three words over and over. You can’t help but smile along with him, the little doubt you had melting away as Yoongi’s confessions make themselves at home inside your heart. He must sense your confusion at his initial reaction though, because he quietly adds a, “I’ve never said that to anyone before.”

You blink, your voice getting caught in your throat as you swallow thickly. It’s simultaneously the sweetest and most heart-breaking thing you’ve ever heard in your life. But you won’t cry, not when Yoongi looks so happy. Happy to have found someone he finally loves, happy to have found you. So you just let out an “I love you too, so much”, your voice thick with emotion and unsaid words you wish you knew how to phrase.

Yoongi only grins wider as you bring his face closer, peppering kisses to any part you can reach. There’s just something so fond in the way those dark eyes looks at you, like you’ve hung the stars and the moon personally for him and he can’t quite believe it. But, you feel like you’re staring back at your own personal ball of sunshine – someone who makes you feel so warm and loved that you’re sure you must be dreaming. So, you think, maybe it’s only fair that you found each other. That you get to create your own little universe with each other.

“Does it still hurt?” Yoongi brushes a careful finger across the mark on your neck, his eyes swirling with emotion as he takes in the very visible claim he’s been wanting to give you ever since you brought him home.

“Not really,” You say. It’s just a dull ache, nothing you can’t handle.

“Suits you,” Yoongi grins deviously, the smile making your stomach flip excitedly. He dips down again, nose brushing along your collarbone before he presses a chaste kiss to the mark. “All mine,” He murmurs.

And maybe you like the sound of that a little too much, the heat in your belly flaring back up as you involuntarily squeeze around Yoongi’s length that’s still buried deep inside of you. Yoongi lets out a sound that sounds like a mixture of a snort and a hiss, his voice a little rougher as he says, “Do you like the sound of that, kitten?”

“Yeah,” You say, “as long as you’re all mine too.”

“Ah–“ Yoongi’s hips twitch, his eyes nearly black with how much love and hunger and wonder he has for you, as he brushes his lips against yours, gentle fingers resting against the claim on your neck. “I’m all yours kitten. Forever. For as long as you want me.”

You decide that forever sounds just about right.

“I’m home!” You call out as you close the door behind you, a soft gush of warm spring air following you inside. You quickly shrug off your coat and shoes, padding your way into the living room when you don’t get a reply. You’re about to call out for Yoongi again when you find him, all curled up on the large windowsill.

You keep your footsteps light as you approach him, not wanting to wake him up from his slumber. He’s as pretty as always, dark fur glistening in the sunlight that’s spilling in through the windows, his bushy tail hiding his face from view. His ears twitch as you step on a squeaky floorboard, and you hold your breath as his head moves, a pair of golden eyes sleepily peeking up at you.

“Hi baby,” You coo, quickly closing the rest of the distance between you to crouch down in front of him, your fingers gently scratching below his chin as he flops his head into your hand.

“Did you have a good nap?” You get your answer in how Yoongi nudges his head against your hand, the action both a confirmation and a demand for more pets. You let out an airy laugh, leaning down to press a soft kiss against the top his head. The loud purrs start up immediately, the vibrations so intense you’re scared he might fall off the sill if he keeps them up.

“I love you too,” You smile, running your fingers over his smooth fur a few times before you rise to your feet. “Take another nap, I’ll come get you once dinner is ready.” Yoongi blinks up at you slowly, your body filling with warmth at how he still manages to look at you so lovingly even as a cat. You wait until Yoongi lies back down, his tail brushing over his face again to block out most of the sunlight.

You take a moment to breathe, your eyes trailing slowly over the blooming garden outside your window, and Yoongi resting peacefully in front of it. You just feel so happy, so at ease, like you could burst with how much love that seems to be coursing through your veins.

You throw Yoongi another glance, the stuttering purrs bringing a soft smile to your face as you inhale deeply, the familiar scents of home bringing a sense of peace over you that you never even knew existed before you met Yoongi.

Maybe forever won’t be long enough. Maybe, you think, you should settle for eternity instead.

- - - -

Thank you all so much for your lovely comments and support, it means so much to me that so many of you have been enjoying Yoongi's story! It feels very bittersweet to be wrapping desolate up, this was the first hybrid story I ever wrote and so it will always hold a special place in my heart. But, I do hope you'll stick around for Abundance and the other stories I will be posting from now on. There's lots more hybrid content coming your way!

Our sweet kitty finally got his happy ending, and I hope Yoongi's luck will rub on to you too if you're struggling with anything right now. Nothing is constant and all bad things will eventually come to an end. :)

If you enjoyed desolate and maybe want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖 Love you all, stay safe! <3

#hybrid!bts #hybrid bts #cat hybrid yoongi #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #hybrid au #bts smut #bts x you #bts fluff #hybridbtsnetwork

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bigballofstress · 4 years

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Pickpocket (Avengers x Child!Reader)

Description: You have been living on the streets for years, and over these years, you have become incredibly good at pickpocketing. Unfortunately for you, though, you picked the wrong target one too many times.

Part 2 if you guys want it, just let me know!

Chin up, shoulders back, even steps. My heart is calm, my breaths slow and measured, and every muscle in my body is relaxed. In other words, every last inch of me screams that I am a confident, kind young lady without a care in the world.

No matter what anybody says, looks really are everything. Every time you meet someone new or even just pass by them on the street, your mind makes a snap judgement about them. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that everyone you meet is prejudiced or anything of the sort. Those snap judgements can easily be changed with an open-minded person, sometimes without even needing a whole conversation. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that when you see a well-groomed person in a suit, your mind automatically thinks they are successful, and when you see someone coming at you with a hoodie covering their face and their hands in their pockets, you automatically tense up. None of that is your fault, and actually it’s probably a good thing that you would be wary of people who are acting rather suspicious. Really, the only issue with these immediate ideas of every person you see is the fact that it makes people like me -- people who understand how these momentary impressions work -- able to take advantage of them.

It didn’t take long to realize I had a talent for it. I already looked the part, -- a helpless, adorable little girl -- I had a surprising knack for staying calm under pressure, and as much as I hated the old bitch, my caretaker had given me all the tools I needed. She was a stickler for proper manners, so I learned how to speak, sit, and walk like a “proper young lady.” Plus, her insane rules about tiny meal portions and too-early curfews taught me to be light on my feet as I often sneaked downstairs to grab a roll of bread at night. Yes, I had everything I needed. The only real hurdle was actually deciding to do it. I never really wanted to be a bad person. But the world is a heartless place, the city even more so, and by the end of my first week, I knew what I had to do if I was ever going to survive.

So, I started working -- oh, and by the way, no matter what you think, it is still a job. I put my time and effort into a certain task, and I obtain money because of it. I don’t know about you, but that certainly sounds like a job to me. And it was easier than I thought it would be. Within about a day, I realized that people saw me as sweet, innocent, and harmless -- no, more than that, they wanted to see me as harmless. Because if I wasn’t harmless, then that meant their world was even more screwed up than they thought. I learned quick, and by the end of the year, I had perfected my technique. It was simple: avoid all conversation if possible, and if absolutely necessary, smile and point out the farthest adult man within reason as my dad before weaving through the small gaps in the crowd, preferably around taller people, so they couldn’t see or follow me. I only got caught once or twice, but I’m grateful that I did. It forced me to learn perspective, that I needed to know more than just how to talk well. So, I learned how to run through a city. And now, I’m practically unstoppable.

As I take my even, not-too-fast-but-not-too-slow stroll down the sidewalk, a small, ambiguous smile decorating my lips, I can see it in each person’s eyes as they walk past that I have completely embodied my character. My arms swung with a practiced nonchalance as my eyes flickered from one person to the next, each time going through a mental list as I weighed the chances I had of succeeding on them versus how likely they were to catch on and calculated the amount of time that both of these events would likely take to happen. Finally, after a few minutes of this practice, one of them caught my eye.

He was larger, more muscular. Guys like him were a gamble. Often, a man of his appearance simply cared a bit too much about his appearance. Still, every now and then, they look like that because they been trained, and while past training usually meant they had no practice running in a city, it also meant that he would be much more jumpy and alert to his surroundings. However, his deep, loose pockets with the corner of his wallet just barely sticking out and the thoughtful gaze as he surveyed the buildings tipped the scales further and further in my favor. The wonder in his eyes just screamed tourist.

I gazed forward with an absentminded look in my eye that I’d spent months perfecting in the mirror while keeping him clearly in my periphery before bumping into him. As I hit him, two of my fingers simultaneously dipped into his pocket, where my knee bumped against his leg to jolt his wallet up and out. The moment the warm leather was in my grasp, I forced myself to fall backwards. Before I could hit the ground, though, I felt one of those strong, muscular arms had wrapped itself around my waist and was helping me back up.

My jaw clenched for half a second. This wasn’t good. His reflexes were too quick to have just worked out at some random gym, which meant my hunch was right: he had been trained. And that meant that I needed to get out of there fast. I wouldn’t be able to slip the wallet back in his pocket without bumping into him again, and that would only make me look even more suspicious, so I quickly emptied it of all of the cash behind his back and slipped the bills into my sleeve before tossing the piece of leather on the ground a few feet away.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern evident in his eyes, and immediately I decided on my personality for the day -- bright and bubbly but proper. Gently, he released his arm from its position on my waist once he knew I had regained my footing.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I quickly apologized, my left hand shooting up to cover my mouth in fake shock while my right hand carefully dropped the money in one of my own pockets, all the while watching every last one of his movements for any sign of suspicion. “It was all my fault. I wasn’t paying attention where I was going.”

“It’s ok, really.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I wasn’t really looking where I was going either, so it was partially my fault, too.”

“Well, thank you for catching me, sir, but I really have to go,” I smiled at him apologetically. “I’m supposed to meet back up with my dad in about five minutes.”

“Oh, no worries,” he responded kindly before sneaking a glance at my old, slightly ripped clothes, the concern still dancing in his eyes. “You’re sure you’re alright, though?”

“Absolutely!” I dismissed. “Thank you again!”

“Um, yeah, no problem.” We both started to walk away.

I waited patiently as I listened to his retreating steps. 1... 2... 3... 4... and then-- “Hey, mister!” I called, bending down and grabbing the piece of leather from where I had tossed it earlier. “I think you might’ve dropped your wallet!”

The man turned back, shocked, before jogging back towards me. “I didn’t even notice,” he mumbled to himself. “Hey, thanks, kid.”

“My pleasure!” I chirped. “Now, sorry, but I really have to get going. See you around, sir!” I quickly jogged off, allowing myself to get lost in the crowd before he could even have a minute to fully understand what happened.

-- 3rd Person POV --

“I told you guys the world wasn’t such a bad place!” Steve called as he entered the living room of Stark Tower. The rest of the Avengers looked up in surprise. They had been having this argument for the past three days, with Steve insisting that there were still people who put others first living in New York while the entire rest of the team tried to convince him otherwise.

“Alright, show your work,” Tony leaned back against the wall, watching the captain with curiosity.

“I met a kid today who couldn’t have been older than 16. I was trying to remember what the city looked like before I went in the ice, and I accidentally bumped into her. She then spent the next few minutes constantly apologizing and saying it was all her fault. And the best part is, after we’d already walked away, she found and returned my wallet. I hadn’t even realized I had dropped it!” The 96-year-old man finished with a triumphant grin, leaving the rest of the team silent for a moment. That is, until Tony busted out laughing. Steve frowned. “...What?”

“Steve, honey, check inside of your wallet,” Natasha sighed as she turned back to the tv to watch whatever was on.

Steve frowned, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his wallet. “I don’t understand; why do you want me to....” He trailed off as he stared at the now empty pocket that only just earlier that day held around 65 dollars in cash. “She... but how did she...”

Tony slapped a heavy hand on Steve’s shoulder, wiping away a tear from the corner of his eye. “She scammed you, bro. And you fell for it hook, line, and sinker,” he grinned before walking back to his room, still chuckling softly to himself at his friend’s misfortune.

------- Time Skip -------

About two weeks had passed since that godsend of a man and I crossed paths. I can’t remember the last time I had managed to lift 65 dollars off anyone. That kind of cash can last someone like me a really long time. But sadly, all good things must come to an end, and after buying myself the first decent meal I’d had in weeks plus a ton of canned foods and non-perishables that I dropped off at the nearest homeless shelter, that good thing ended ended all too quickly. Which meant it was time I went back to work.

I stepped into the public library, that same ambiguous smile painted ever so gently across my face. There weren’t a whole lot of people here and there were almost never any big scores, but working here was a lot less guess-work, and more often than not, the target was too engrossed in their book to even notice what I was doing, so there was also much less risk of being caught.

After a quick scan of the quiet room, my eyes landed on the man sitting at one of the long tables, his bag haphazardly laying next to him on the table. It should be easy enough to grab something from in there, and he seemed invested enough to have his guard down. He should make for a good target.

I walked into the science section and grabbed a few scientific papers, most of which were generally about to nuclear physics, before walking back to his table and sitting down right across from him. Scientific papers are the best way to make sure no one has the confidence to talk to you. I opened the paper that I had read a hundred times and started pretending to read it once more, my left hand resting on my cheek as my right hand slowly made its way towards the bag.

“Excuse me.” I glanced up, pausing my movement towards his back but still being careful not to react too quickly and retract my hand. I didn’t want to draw his attention to what I was doing, and if at all possible, I would still like to come out of this with something to show for it. As I met the glasses-clad, clearly intelligent eyes of the man in front of me, it was easy to figure out what my personality should be -- shy, smart, and above all else, kind. “Is that Schippers’s work?”

I blinked in surprise and allowed a soft smile to spread across my lips. “You know Stefan Schippers?”

“Yeah, his work in antimatter is amazing,” he grinned fully now, his eyes lighting up and making him almost look like a completely different person. “Particularly regarding his research in collisions.”

I grinned back, taking note of how his eyes were now trained on mine, instead of glancing around like before. Maybe I should’ve started a conversation before -- clearly it was a good distraction for him. Well, either way, it’s going to be easier to lift something off of him now, so I guess I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. “I completely agree. His work is amazing,” I giggled softly, glancing down at the table before looking back up at him, a slight red hue now painting the apples of my cheeks as my hand slipped inside of his bag.

“I was honestly surprised to see you reading that paper, actually,” he chuckled nervously. “I’ve read it at least 20 times, but I figured I was the only one.” I laughed lightly, slipping what felt like a wallet out of the bag and tucking it under my arm.

“Trust me, I’ve read this so many times, I’m afraid the library is going to have to replace it because I’ve worn it out so much. You know, if you’re interested in Schippers, you should read some of Dr. Banner’s papers,” I laid my left hand on his arm gently while my right arm swung back over to me, pushing the wallet into my lap. “As much as I love Schippers, Dr. Banner’s work is unparalleled.”

The man chuckled nervously again, ducking his head a bit. “You really think so, huh? How old are you anyways? I don’t see a whole lot of kids brushing up on nuclear physics.”

“I’m older than I look,” I casually brushed off the question. I was not about to give up any personal information, fellow science geek or not. “Oh, by the way, do you have the time?”

The man glanced at his watch. “About 6:00.”

My eyes widened in shock. “You’re kidding, it got that late?! My dad’s gonna kill me!” I gasped and quickly stood up, catching the wallet in my left hand and slipping it into my pocket. “It was really nice meeting you, sir, but I have to go home. I really liked talking to you, though! I hope we can meet again!” I hurriedly gathered the papers and rushed off, waving with a broad smile.

“Oh, uh nice meeting you... too...” he tried to respond, but she was already well out of sight.

-- 3rd Person POV --

“What the hell?” Bruce mumbled, digging through his bag. The pizza had just arrived, and he needed to pay his share.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha glanced at him, an eyebrow raised.

“I could’ve sworn I put my wallet in here, but now I can’t find it,” he frowned, continuing to search every last nook and cranny of the old bag.

“Don’t worry about it, buddy, I can cover you if you’re short,” Tony shrugged.

“That’s not the issue,” Bruce frowned, finally giving up and tossing his bag to the side in frustration. “That had my credit card, my driver’s license, and my ID for Stark Tower. If it’s lost somewhere, it could be a real problem.”

“When was the last time you remember having it?” Clint mumbled through a full mouth of the piece of pizza that he’d already shoved in his face. Natasha rolled her eyes and wiped off the bit of spit he’d gotten on her in disgust.

“I was at the library. I used my library card to check out some books,” he responded confidently.

“Again?” Clint asked, once again through a mouthful of cheese and marinara sauce. “What, do you live there or something?”

“Ok, now walk us through exactly what happened after you checked out those books,” Natasha suggested, doing her best to ignore her best friend.

Bruce sighed and nodded, sitting down. “I checked out my books, then walked over to one of the tables to start reading. Then I talked to that teenager for a little while about some of Schippers’s theories before she ran off--”

“You talked to a teenager about Schippers? And she actually understood?” Tony asked, lifting a brow in surprise.

“Yeah, she even recommended I read Dr. Banner’s work in the same field,” Bruce chuckled. “I thought it better not to tell her who I was, but according to her, Banner’s work is ‘unparalleled’.”

“Damn, the kid knows her stuff,” Tony nodded, impressed. “Did she say anything about--”

“Boys,” Natasha cut in. “The wallet.”

“Ah, right,” Bruce mumbled apologetically. “Anyways, after she ran off, I kept reading for a few minutes before leaving, too. Then I came back to the tower and got up here just in time to decide on ordering pizza with you guys.”

“Did you use the subway?” Natasha asked.

Bruce shook his head. “No. I figured since it was such a nice day out, I would just walk home.”

“How did you enter the building?”

“I ran into Steve downstairs, and we came in together.”

Steve, who had been silent up until this point, finally spoke up. “This teenager... Was she about 16? With (H/C) hair?”

“What, you think it’s the same girl who totally scammed you the other--” Tony started, getting ready to take part in his favorite pastime of making fun of Steve.

“Actually, yeah, she was,” Bruce answered, his eyes wide in realization.

Before anyone could say anything, Tony’s incredibly loud laughter filled the room. “Holy shit, you guys both got scammed by the same teenager! How does that even happen?!” He wheezed, laughing so hard he could hardly breath.

“Hey she seemed like a nice girl!” Bruce defended. “How was I supposed to know she was robbing me?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?” Tony asked, tears streaming down his face now. Bruce opened his mouth, trying to come up with something but came up blank. A heavy hand landing on his shoulder knocked him out of his stupor.

“Just let it happen,” Steve sighed, his eyes cast down as he shook his head in sympathy.

------- Time Skip -------

It had been a week since I had spoken to that science nerd in the library, and I was still pissed. Seriously, what kind of grown man only carries around 4 dollars and 36 cents? Well, apparently, that weirdo did. I had thrown out all the cards and IDs to at least sell the what looked to be leather wallet to a pawn shop, but apparently the thing wasn’t even leather! All of that time, wasted for a measly 12 bucks. I’ll say it again: I was pissed.

So, now I was back out working again, because the money I’d made was barely enough to buy a few snacks that I had to portion out over the course of the past week.

As I walked down the sidewalk, still grumbling softly to myself about what had happened, I saw him.

Tony freaking Stark.

I grinned. Maybe my luck was getting better after all. I mean, a billionaire who’s famous for having, shall we say, questionable morals? After all, it’s not exactly nice to sleep with as many women as humanly possible before tossing them away like they’re nothing. I mean, sure there’s the whole iron man thing, but he’s still kind of a dick, let’s be honest. And while I usually tried to refrain from taking anything major in case my target doesn’t have a whole lot of money or the object is sentimental, billionaire jerks are fair game. And the best part was, I didn’t even have to read him to know the part I was going to play. Tony Stark would only ever fall for one personality: sarcastic, quick-witted, and strong.

His head was down, buried in his phone, so I casually walked towards him, picking up an old cup of coffee from one of a nearby cafe’s outdoor tables, before smacking into him head-first, spilling the coffee everywhere.

“What the hell?!”

“Oh my god!” We both yelled at the same time.

“Oh c’mon, kid, this is silk!” Tony continued to shout, staring down at the coffee covering his chest.

“Hey, I’m not the one with my head buried in my phone while walking through one of the busiest cities in the world,” I snapped back. “And you’re not the only one whose clothes got ruined. This is cashmere!” I lied through my teeth. It was a ratty old sweater that I’d bought for about 3 dollars at a thrift store.

Stark scoffed. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Yeah, you’re Tony Stark. That doesn’t change the fact that my parents are gonna be pissed about me ruining a hundred dollar sweater,” I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms defiantly.

That was when he finally glanced at me and my coffee-stained outfit. Stark sighed and put his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Alright, I’m sorry.” Wait, what? Since when does the great Tony Stark ever apologize for anything? “I’ll pay for the dry-cleaning, ok? Just give me your parents’ numbers.”

Shit, that’s not how this is supposed to go. Ok, new strategy. A sassy front but a kind interior.

I sighed and shook my head. “No, it’s not entirely your fault. I guess I could’ve tried to avoid you better. Anyways, you got a pen and paper?”

Stark nodded slightly and reached into his inner pocket, pulling out a tiny pad and a fancy looking pen. I quickly jotted down the phone number and handed it back to him. Shoot, he looked like he was about to walk away. I had to act quick or lose my chance. Time to add one more very important characteristic to my identity: pitiable. “Hey, I really am sorry. I kind of overreacted. It wasn’t cool. I guess I just got a little nervous. My dad likes things to be clean, and he can get pretty mad when I don’t follow that rule...” I trailed off a bit, glancing down at my feet. I shook my head quickly and met the billionaire’s gaze, now filled with concern, again. “Sorry, didn’t mean to dump that on you. I just wanted to say thanks.” I held out my right hand, praying that I’d guessed which hand to use correctly. As Stark grabbed my hand, I had to hold back a sigh of relief when I saw the watch casually placed on his wrist.

“It was really nice meeting you, Mr. Stark,” I smiled a bit, with my left hand closing over his wrist while three of my fingers on my right hand undid the clasp on his watch. Then I pressed down one the buttons on either side of the clasp with my middle finger on my right hand and my thumb on my left hand, making sure to hold the watch in place. “If you’d like, I’d be happy to buy you a coffee to make up for it. There’s a really nice café right over there.” I squeezed the watch tightly with my left hand and jerked my chin towards the store just behind him. He turned his head and looked, pulling his hand back slightly as he did so, which allowed me to slip the watch off his wrist. Immediately, I dropped it in my pocket before he had a chance to turn back around.

“Thanks, kid, but I’m good. I’ll give your parents a call when I get home, ok?” He said before awkwardly giving me a pat on the shoulder. “Now go run off and play with some dolls or whatever.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, but my collection can’t be nearly as big as yours,” I bit back with a slight, good-natured smirk. “Anyways, I gotta go home and get yelled at by my parents. Nice meeting you, Mr. Stark,” I called, waving to him as I was already leaving.

Stark shook his head with a small smile. “Yeah, you too, kid.”

-- 3rd Person POV --

“What, no watch today?” Tony furrowed his brows at Bruce’s question.

“Of course I have a watch today. I have a watch for every day of the week,” he scoffed, lifting his wrist to show off the rather expensive Rolex.

“Umm dude...?” Clint started.

“Yeah, I know it’s awesome, and no, you cannot try it on,” Tony smirked. “I have a very strict look don’t touch policy. These bad boys cost quite the pretty penny, and I wouldn’t want any of you trying to take it from me.” Clint just shrugged in defeat and unpaused his video game -- it wasn’t his fault his friend interrupted him trying to help.

“Tony, look at your wrist,” Steve rolled his eyes at the pompous man’s antics.

“What, just so I can admire it--” he cut himself off as his eyes landed on the bare skin of his wrist. “...Where the hell is my watch?”

“Maybe you forgot to put one on today?” Bruce shrugged, going back to his computer as he continued to work.

“No, I didn’t forget; I never forget,” Tony snapped. “It was there this morning, and now it’s gone.” He yanked up his sleeve to search in vain for the incredibly expensive missing item.

“Hey, maybe Tony was pick-pocketed, too,” Clint joked absentmindedly before cursing at some ‘dumbass little camping noob’ who kept killing him.

Tony’s eyes widened in realization. “Holy shit, it was the kid.”

“What?” Steve frowned.

“The kid! The kid who spilled coffee on me today!” He shouted. “I had my watch, then she shook my hand, and now the watch is gone. She totally took it!”

Clint paused the game again. “Wait, so basically some kid took your custom watch, which is worth thousands of dollars, right off your wrist, and you didn’t even notice?” Tony bobbed his head up and down frantically. “Hold on... You don’t think...” Clint glanced between the three other men in the room.

“(H/C) hair?” Steve asked.

“(E/C) eyes?” Bruce called, suddenly no longer able to focus on his work.

Tony nodded slowly with wide eyes. Reality crashed down on all three of them.

A wide smile slowly took over Clint’s face. “So you mean to tell me that three of the Avengers, the Earth’s greatest defenders, got scammed by the same teenage girl in less than a month?” The three men were silent, each of them staring at the ground as they started to question how smart they actually were.

About 30 seconds later, the silence was broken. “Nat, you’ll never believe what just happened. I can’t believe you weren’t home for this,” Clint talked excitedly into the phone while his teammates all slowly left the room to sulk alone.

------- Time Skip -------

It had been a whole month since I had gotten the watch off Tony Stark. I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the amount of zeros on the offer the pawn shop had given me. It was probably one of the best days of my life. Immediately, I had gone out and bought myself a meal at an actual restaurant, and let me tell you, they weren’t kidding when they said restaurant food is delicious. Every protein bar and bag of chips in the world couldn’t live up to the food I ate that day. And with that kind of money, I could be eating like that for maybe even a year! Still, I knew what I had to do.

It was almost Christmas. With the money I’d just gotten, I could afford to buy each and every kid at the orphanage actual brand new presents that year, instead of the crummy second-hand stuff that had to be shared between three or four kids that I usually brought. So, I went out and blew a good three quarters of my new budget on toys, and not the kind from thrift shops or even the ones from the big department stores. I could finally get them toys from one of the fancy stores that had display windows. And it was worth it, too, seeing the pure amazement that lit up those kids’ eyes when they saw there was enough for all of them. I then spent another quarter of the money on nonperishable foods that I donated to the homeless shelter plus one massive turkey for their Christmas feast.

After all of that, I was left with around 20 dollars for myself. Usually I can make money like that last with just a few extra marks, but as the month dragged on and less and less people were out on the streets at night, my budget ran thin. Eventually, I reached my breaking point. I’d gone I think four days now without any food. My stomach growled loudly, begging me to give it something, anything. I just sighed and receded further into the fabric of my thin, worn down coat that I’d found a few days back by a dumpster -- the coat I used to wear long traded in for a couple spare dollars. Sure, the wind cut through it like a knife, but hell, it was better than nothing.

I glanced up as I heard the crunching of footsteps in the snow, my heard immediately leaping into my throat at the prospect of there being people out. I frowned when I saw who they were. A couple walking together, chatting away about something or another. Normally, I would never choose a couple to target -- it was too easy for one of them to spot what I was doing to the other -- but I had gotten desperate. I was freezing cold, and I needed food now.

So, I walked directly towards them and crashed my shoulder into the guy’s, my hand slipping into his pocket. I thanked whatever higher power was watching over me when my hand came into contact with a money clip.

“Sorry,” I mumbled and slipped my hand back out before continuing to walk at a casual pace away from the two, tucking the clip into my pocket.

-- 3rd Person POV --

“Well that was rude,” Clint huffed, dusting himself off.

Natasha stared at the back of the young girl who continued to walk away like nothing had happened. “Hey, Clint,” she muttered.

“Yeah?”

“Where’s your wallet?”

“I put it back in my... pocket....” Clint froze when he realized he couldn’t feel the familiar clip in his jacket pocket. He whirled around to look at the girl, who was already a ways away. “Hey! Get back here!” He screamed, breaking into a run, Natasha quickly following suit.

-- Your POV --

“Hey! Get back here!” I glanced back with wide eyes, my heart leaping into my throat before immediately sprinting.

I ran through the snow, turning right and left through back alleys and narrow shortcuts, thanking my past self for never eating well, as my skinny form was able to stay on top of the snow for the most part. Still, somehow I hadn’t lost the two adults chasing me yet. They had barely fallen a foot or two behind over the last eight blocks. My stamina was quickly running out, the malnourishment over the past week finally catching up to me. I felt dizzy, and my chest burned as I focused on continuing to put one foot in front of the other. I turned down an alleyway with a brick wall at the end.

“Ha! We’ve finally caught you!” The man behind me panted. I completely ignored him, not pausing a single step as I sprinted towards the wall.

“Uhh, hey, kid? Rock beats teenager...” He called warily. I continued to ignore him. I was only five feet away. “Stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself!” he shouted just before I jumped, pressing my feet into the bricks to launch my further and further up. I reached as high as I could and just barely caught the edge of the wall with my fingertips. I swung my other arm up and forced my arms to pull myself to the top.

I panted as I gazed down from the top of the wall, the couple staring back up at me. “Holy shit,” the man muttered, to which the woman immediately smacked him in the arm.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I was hungry.” I wasn’t really sure why I was apologizing. Granted, I knew what I was doing wasn’t very nice, but I don’t recall ever apologizing before. Maybe it’s because they reminded me of my parents -- or, at least, what I imagined my parents to be like. Maybe it’s because I was so dizzy that I couldn’t really think straight. I nodded slightly to the two before turning around, preparing myself to jump down the other side.

Suddenly, a massive wave of dizziness and nausea smacked me in the face. I groaned slightly and put my hand to my forehead, trying to get a hold of myself. Evidently, that didn’t work, because the next thing I knew, I was falling.

Time seemed to slow as I fell through the air. I probably shouldn’t pass out right now, the surprisingly calm thought entered my mind. If I do, I’ll most likely just freeze to death. Then again, passing out would save me a lot of pain from falling. Alright, I guess that’s it then. I’ll pass out now and hope I wake up in time to not die. My eyes fluttered closed just before I hit the ground, the fog in my brain thickening as I finally allowed myself to just give in to it.

-- 3rd Person POV --

Clint grunted as he caught the girl. He was expecting to fall to the ground with her, only really serving to break her fall, but was surprised to find that she wasn’t even heavy enough to knock him down. Natasha made her way over to his side, looking down at the little thief in her friend’s arms.

“She’s light as a feather,” Clint murmured with a frown on his face, “and freezing to the touch.”

“She said she was hungry,” Natasha muttered thoughtfully.

Clint grit his teeth and nodded, determined. “Alright, that settles it. We’re taking her back to the tower.”

Natasha glanced at him warily. “You sure? The others might not be so accepting.”

“They’re gonna have to be,” he stated, already walking back, holding the girl as close as he could in an attempt to warm her up.

#Avengers #avengers one shot #avengers imagine #avengers reader insert #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x y/n

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inskz · 4 years

Text

lucky charm - lee minho

pairing - lee minho x reader

genre - college!au, best friends to lovers, very cliche fluff (lucky girl starring lindsey lohan kinda vibes???)

words - 4k

note - this is just a cute little drabble i wrote while im still waiting for my covid test results to come back so that i can leave my room and see the sun again 🤪 pls be careful everybody take care of your health 💚 enjoy!!!

- - - - -

“You must be kidding me,” you sigh when you see Minho’s hand has turned into a fist, his rock crushing miserably your scissors. Once again, you lost at rock, paper, scissors. And once again, you’re the one that is going to wash your best friend’s dishes that have piled up in is tiny kitchen sink throughout the week.

“Fuck that. This is so unfair,” you grumble, throwing the dishtowel in Minho’s stupid yet perfectly chiseled face.

You make a beeline for his bed, which is actually only a few steps away from the kitchen. Being a broke college student definitely doesn’t allow him to rent a spacious studio, let alone a two-room apartment. You throw yourself headfirst onto his uncomfortable mattress, whose springs always poke your back at night.

“Life is so unfair,” your friend mocks you, dragging out every vowel of his sentence dramatically.

No doubt, you would be strangling him at that very moment if you weren’t so busy playing dead, hoping he would forget about your pitiful existence.

But there is no way mister Lee Minho would miss out on an opportunity to have his gross plates cleaned by someone else. Grabbing onto your ankle, he drags you out of bed until you plop down on the dirty carpeted floor (Minho has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate vacuuming too). At this point, you are fake crying, throwing a literal tantrum, like a 6 years old child would.

“Life is unfair!” you yell, your feet kicking in the air in pure anger.

At least it is to you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been lucky. The only instance you got remotely close to it was when you found a four-leaf clover last summer. Well, only if you disregard the fact you stepped into dog poop on your way to picking it. Oh and that you were wearing brand new white Converse.

On the other hand, it seems like the boy has the whole crew of the Olympus gods on his side. Not one day goes by without his guardian angel manifesting its presence.

Minho has always been the lucky type. The type to get an extra nugget in his box of 10. To find 20 dollars bills on the ground. To win every single Instagram giveaway he participates to (and lord knows how much he likes participating to them).

But how can you be mad at him when he always happily shares his food with you, invites you to the restaurant without you even asking, and gives you his prizes, pretending he doesn’t need them? You don’t believe him when he says he see no use in a panda onesie or a waterproof bluetooth speaker. Deep down, you know it’s his way to silently love you.

But well, you can still blame him for occasionally taking advantage of your misfortune to make you do his dreaded house chores, just like right now.

Everyone thinks you are a bizarre duo. Even you can’t fathom how in hell you two became best friends, considering how awfully your first encounter went three years ago.

On orientation day, he asked you for the time, probably because his phone was dead (or maybe because he was dying to talk to you?)

Without hesitation, you lifted and rotated your wrist so that you could see your watch. Little did you remember; you never actually owned a watch and you were holding a fancy 7 dollars iced coffee, which, of course, did not have a lid on because plastic is bad for the environment (duh).

Minho couldn’t help but burst out in hysterical laughter when the whole drink spilled on your jeans. For your defense, you didn’t sleep at all the night before since you were terrified of being alone in your new dorm room the first few days (weird stuff happens all the time in dorms, okay?). If he had asked you for your name, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell him.

But Minho thought you were the funniest person on campus, and he really needed a clown like you to entertain him throughout his endless college semesters. That’s what he told you anyways. Not that he thought you were the cutest human being he had ever seen.

Why would he when you are the literal definition of a mess: always having toothpaste stains on your sweater, bags under your eyes, messy hair, tripping and falling, missing buses, breaking things, losing stuff.

Most of the time, you just forget your keys and Minho lets you crash at his place since he hasn’t got any roommate and he isn’t used to sleeping alone, especially without his cats. It surely isn’t because he loves waking up next to a very groggy but adorable you every single morning, no.

Minho manages to bring you back to the countertop despite your reluctance. Positioned behind you, his arms trapping your body to make sure you can’t run away from your duties, he dips your hands into the soapy water, and you can’t help but squirm at the touch of an unknown substance sticking to a plate that has probably been soaking here for a week. You despise doing the dishes and your friend knows it.

You hear him giggle in your ear while he is playing with your arms like you are some type of marionette, making you to take the sponge and squeeze dish soap onto it.

You’ve never been the kind to like proximity nor seemed to be Minho, but for some reason, you always end up glued to each other. You hate public displays of attention and pet names a little less when it comes from him. Or maybe you don’t hate it at all and actually crave it every single minute that goes by.

Before he has the time to come up with the Machiavellian idea to soak your pajamas in dirty water (because you know he would inevitably have at some point), you yank his hands off of you and start scrubbing angrily the dirty cups.

Minho stays behind you anyways, observing your every move, his chin propped up on your shoulder like a curious little bird. To be honest, his presence is kind of getting overwhelming. But whatever, it’s not like his slightest touch makes your heart warm up in comfort or that he smells like fresh linen drying out on the porch of a cottage house on a sunny Sunday morning or anything.

“You missed a spot. Here” he murmurs teasingly, his lips almost touching your earlobe, while he points at the handle of his hideous ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug Jisung gifted him last christmas.

You know he has noticed the way you shivered violently at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin because he starts snickering loudly.

“I swear to god if you don’t shut up and go seat on the couch, I’ll slap you so hard with this spatula you’ll regret you were even born,” you say, turning around suddenly to menace him with the plastic utensil.

Of course, he isn’t afraid one bit. Right now, you really wish you could make the smug, but oh so attractive, look on his face disappear.

“Alright, ma’am” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll let you do your thing”. He lets himself fall onto his dingy couch.

You can hear him humming one of his favorite songs above the sound of the water running. It would probably be getting on your nerves if his voice wasn’t so pretty.

“Chan’s sick, so we’re not going to the gym tomorrow night. Do you wanna eat tacos? El Huero has even better deals than usual” he asks you, scrolling mindlessly through his phone.

“Aren’t the deals supposed to be on Tuesdays?” You frown and scrub a little harder the frying pan Minho has burnt the night before while trying to make chocolate chips pancakes for diner, because why eat savory food when you can have dessert for every meal, right? It is one of the few advantages of living without your parents you both truly enjoy.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Tomorrow,” he yawns, probably exhausted after what you put him through last night. You forced him to catch up on the entire season of Love Island because you desperately needed someone to bitch with, and what better partner than Lee Minho.

You take a quick glance at him and see him stretching himself across the cushions like a cat. You always thought there was something feline about his features. While you’re drying the mugs with the dishtowel, your mind wanders uncontrollably, thinking about his piercing eyes, his delicate nose, the corners of his lips that curl up a little…

All of the sudden, your hands freeze. Minho is too immersed in TikToks to notice the stupor on your face. “Wait. Today is… Monday?” you stutter.

Alarmed by the sound of your voice, his eyes finally leave his phone’s screen to look up at you. “Yeah” he repeats slowly as if you are the dumbest person he has ever encountered.

And you truly are. You are pretty sure your heart has stopped beating. Minho’s “world’s greatest dad” mug you’re holding slips between your fingers and comes crashing on the floor with a deafening sound. The pieces are now scattered all around you, making you unable to make out what’s written on it anymore. Not a big loss, if you ask.

“Y/N, you know that’s my favorite mug!” he exclaims, leaping up from the couch. “I’m sure you did it on purpose,” he mutters while he’s trying to collect the small fragments, in vain.

But you’re too shocked at this very moment to pay attention to the glare your friend is giving you. To be honest, Minho has only two moods: glaring at you or teasing you.

“My interview,” you finally manage to say, and Minho’s eyes go wide as he realizes the critical situation you’re in.

You check the time on the microwave: 10:45. In 30 minutes, you’re supposed to be on the other side of town, being interrogated by boring businessmen that are going to decide whether or not you’ll be accepted for a paid internship in one of the most reputable music label of the country. Basically, decide whether you’ll live a happy and fulfilling life, working in the sector you’ve always dreamed of or end up miserable with a boring office job and a massive college debt.

“Holy shit,” Minho whispers. You can see a wave of panic washing across his face for a split second, but, as always, he manages to find his composure back immediately.

He has never been the kind to lose his cool, except to scold you when you forget the names of his cats and their respective coats’ color (which you unfortunately often did forget).

“What are you doing? Get dressed!” He tells you when he sees you’re still standing there dumbfounded in the kitchen, like the famous Robert Pattinson meme, wearing an oversize Kermit the frog shirt with a dozen holes in it and his favorite Adidas sweatpants you always stole from him.

“No, it’s too late. I can’t make it,” you mutter, your breath short. You’re paralyzed, as if there is a 20lbs rock sitting at the bottom of your stomach, pinning you to the ground.

This isn’t bad luck, you think. This is karma. This is what you get for skipping classes to watch telereality shows in your bed with your best friend and not even realizing it isn’t the weekend anymore.

“Miss me with that bullshit.” He runs to his closet and rummages through his drawers, throwing every piece of clothing that’s on his way to find an appropriate outfit that would fit you.

“You’re gonna go do this interview even if I have to drag you all the way there.” He pushes you into his bathroom since you still haven’t moved an inch.

You manage to brush your teeth and your hair, fighting through the nauseous feeling that is building up in your tummy.

When you come back to the living room, Minho has found dress pants and a sweater that might not look utterly ridiculous on you. He lets you change in a corner, while he runs around the room collecting all your essentials.

“You’re coming?” you ask him when you see he is already wearing his puffer jacket.

“You really think I’m gonna let you go all by yourself when you’re literally not even able to put your shoes on properly”. You are, indeed, struggling with your laces, as if your fingers are suddenly made out of butter.

Minho ties them up for you and you literally feel like he’s your babysitter. You know you’re gonna hear about this for months – what are you saying- years! But all you can think about at the moment though, is the fact that sneakers are definitely not appropriate for an interview.

He throws your warmest coat at you, grab his keys, and by some type of miracle, you’re both out to the door in less than 10 minutes.

You try to call the elevator, but Minho grabs your arm and leads you to the staircase. His hand never leaving yours, he runs down the stairs and you have no choice but to follow him as fast as you can.

You can’t count how many times you missed a step and fell at this particularly slippery spot, between the 5th and the 4th floor, but weirdly enough, it doesn’t happen today.

When you finally reach the ground floor, you exit the complex and Minho hops on his old and rusty bike that he had attached to nearest tree the night before.

“There’s no way I’m riding behind you on this death machine,” you laugh nervously. The memory of that one time Minho convinced you to seat into his bicycle basket (as if you could even realistically fit in it) and you both fell seconds after he started to pedal is coming back to your mind.

Sure, it was after a long night of drinking, you were both tipsy and it was the only way to get you home since you had spent all your uber money at the bar, but still! You’re pretty sure the bruise on your butt hasn’t disappeared to this day.

“Hurry up,” Minho groans, ignoring your complaint. You unwillingly seat on his flimsy pannier rack and wrap your arms around his torso.

You haven’t even left, yet you’re already holding onto his puffer jacket for dear life. A giggle escapes your friend’s mouth (which you think is very inappropriate in such a desperate situation) before he lifts his feet off the ground and starts pedaling.

You try to ignore the loud squeaking of the bicycle drive by shutting your eyes tighter and rehearsing your introduction you have prepared over and over in your head. No matter how hard you are trying, you can’t remember what you are supposed to say just after your age (which, as you can imagine, isn’t really far into your monologue).

By the way the wind is lashing your face, you can tell Minho has picked up the speed. His breathing is getting louder, his heartbeat faster and you can’t help but think you’re probably way too heavy for him to bike you around like that. Maybe he shouldn’t skip his gym sessions with Chan so often. Or maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the leftover pancakes for breakfast after all.

You find the courage to open your eyelids and are pleased to see you’re already halfway there, probably because every single one of the traffic lights you encounter is green, and your friend is going surprisingly fast. Is luck finally starting to smile upon you?

Your mad race comes to a halt when you reach the address of your interview. You hop off the bike and so does Minho who, by the way, is a panting mess. He’s barely able to catch his breath, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he’s beaming at you when he realizes you’re just on time.

“Go” he gasps, pushing you in the direction of the building’s hall.

You walk up to the glass door but as your hands are about to push it, you pull a 180. Your friend sighs loudly, already knowing what’s coming next.

“Wait. No. I can’t do this. I’m not prepared” you tell him frantically. “I’m freaking out. I think I’m gonna pass out.” You are now walking in circles, mumbling incoherently.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands are getting clammy at the simple thought of failure. But guess what? You can’t fail if you don’t even try! One more good reason to just go back to bed and forget about your sad life for a good 8 hours, right?

“Y/N, you’re the most talented person I know, you’re gonna do just fine” Minho catches you in his arm to stop your endless pacing. You would probably think this gesture is endearing if it wasn’t just meant to make sure you couldn’t run for your life.

“No, I’m not. What if I throw up in front of everybody like that one time during the Romeo and Juliet musical?” You look up at him and his face is only inches away from yours. You’re sure you would be swooning at how beautiful he looks if you weren’t so terrified at this very moment.

“You were nine,” your best friend says, and you swear you have never heard him speak to you in such a sweet tone before. His voice is like honey and lavander but it doesn’t soothe you like it should.

You manage to break free from his embrace to crouch down, in an attempt to slow down your breathing. If only you had data left, you could be watching those short relaxing videos on your phone. They always work. But no, you had to spent it all on online games, just one week into the month. You really are beyond help.

“Y/N I know you’re scared, but if you miss out on this opportunity, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life.” Minho is lowering himself so that you can hear him, even though you’re curled up in a ball.

“And I’m warning you, I won’t want to hear you complain about it,” he adds, this whole situation obviously starting to get on his nerves.

If you were him, you would have probably left a long time ago. But this isn’t your best friend’s way of behaving. You know he would never abandon you no matter how annoying you could be (and you could be very annoying sometimes). After all, he is always the one holding your hair while you puke in the toilets when you had a couple too many drinks.

It takes all your willpower to stand up but there is no other way, you have to do it. You can hear the time ticking dangerously in your mind, as if your brain had turned into a clock.

“You’re right. Slap me,” you say, looking at him straight in the eyes, dead serious.

“Wha -“

“Slap some sense into me. They do that in movies when people are panicking. It’s like throwing a bucket of cold water in someone’s face. But clearly we don’t have a bucket and we don’t have cold wa- “ you start blabbering.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not gonna slap you!” Your friend isn’t usually that horrified at the thought of beating your ass. In fact, he has felt the desire to rip your head off more than once, especially when you’d steal all the duvet at night, but at this moment he is just scared you might have actually lost your mind.

“Just fucking do it Minho!” you scream, your hands clenching the front of his grey hoodie he always looks so divine in.

Minho has never obeyed you, and this is not the day he is going to start.

He puts both of his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips onto yours.

You would be lying if you said you have never imagined the day your best friend would kiss you. It happens pretty much every single time you look at his cute pout a little too long. But one thing is certain, it isn’t like you pictured it to be at all.

You were convinced your heart would go so wild it would burst out of your chest and your head would spin so furiously you’d lose your balance. You thought your stomach would fill with butterflies to the brim and your whole body would be on fire.

But none of that is happening. On the contrary, every single muscle in your body relaxes under his touch. The way his soft mouth presses gently against yours makes you calmer, almost at peace amongst all this turmoil.

Minho is kissing all your tension and stress away and you catch yourself letting a sigh of relief escape your parted lips.

As if you have kissed him already hundreds of times in your past life, Minho feels like home. He’s a safe haven you can always take refuge in during troubled times. Ever since the day you met, he has never left your side.

When he breaks away from the kiss, you notice your breath isn’t so ragged and your mind isn’t so foggy anymore. You’re serene. His cold hands are still cupping your face, slightly squishing your cheeks, and you feel like an idiot sandwich for asking him to slap you seconds before.

“That can work too, I guess…” you mutter.

“You’re okay?” he asks, staring at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

You just nod, unable to say one more word, and sprint to the entrance, not wanting to make your interviewers wait any longer than they already have.

“Good luck!” You hear him yell just before the door closes behind you and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear.

- - - - -

Thirty minutes later, you finally step out of the fancy lobby to find a very bored Minho leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for you.

“You’re still here?”

“Of course, I am,” he says, his mouth full of croissant. He gives you a large iced coffee he probably went buying to kill time. Your lips unconsciously curl up into a smile when you notice it comes from the same chain that the one you spilled on your lap on the day you first met him.

“How did it go?” he asks you, sticking his buttery pastry into your mouth so that you can take a bite.

“Way better than I thought” you answer, right after you swallowed. You hate the way flakes would always get stuck between your teeth. But Minho is always there to warn you about it before anyone else notices, and even pick them for you if you can’t manage to, which, when you think about it, is kind of gross.

There are two things the boy knows about you: you’re the greatest pessimist on earth and you’d rather die than admit you were wrong (especially if it meant he was right). So for you to even say it wasn’t that bad, means it went phenomenal.

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ but I told you so.” He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes anymore. You have to look away, otherwise you know you might become instantly blinded by love.

“Maybe I could use some more of your luck” you mumble, staring at your shoes and kicking the red leaves that were surrounding your feet on this sunny autumn morning.

“Really? And what makes you think I’ll share it with you,” he teases you, leaning forward to incite you to look at him in the eyes.

“That.”

Your hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him in, in order to close the space that is still left between your mouths.

At first, Minho stiffens, taken aback by your bold move. But soon enough, he caves into your touch. He kisses you back fervently, like he means it.

His fingers entagle in your hair, his arm wraps around your waist and his chest presses against your body. You’re melting in his embrace, submerged by a wave of bliss which he alone seems to know the recipe.

It feels new, yet so familiar. Like it was supposed to happen, like it was written in the stars.

He tastes like croissant and Americano. Like fortune and fate.

And you can’t help but think you’re the luckiest person on earth.

Who cares about winning the lottery when Lee Minho is your lucky charm?

440 notes · View notes

rkived · 4 years

Text

━ CHASING PAVEMENTS 03 | JJK

↳ PAIRING: dad!jk/married!jk/bff!jk x reader

↳ GENRE/TAGS: f2l, angst, unrequited feelings, cheating, future smut

↳ WARNINGS: (for this chapter) time jumps, mention of divorce, blood mention ((but like nothing serious)), forced kisses, just sad stuff like this is sad guys lol

↳ WORD COUNT: 8.6k

↳ EXCERPT: ‘‘Jungkook doesn’t want to think this is the end, maybe it’s that stupid voice inside his head that always holds on to things that he knows he should let go of. But he can’t just let go of this and move on. He doesn’t remember what life was like before you and he sure as hell does not want to know what it’ll be like without you.’’

↳ A/N: getting this chapter out has been ((a pain in the ass)) tough !! & cp was supposed to end with this chapter but that was not realistic at all lmao but i do hope u like this n i’ll try to get pt4 quickly as possible <3 thx

01 | 02 | 03 | 04

‘‘Okay everyone, let’s switch to the upward facing dog!’’

You really don’t want to be here. There’s a lot of stuff running through your head right now that are more important than focusing on yoga positions. You wish you were thinking about grocery shopping or paying that month’s bills.

Instead, you’re still stuck on the downward facing dog as your mind tells you you’re an idiot, a homewrecker and most importantly, a terrible friend.

‘‘Y/N, upward facing dog!’’ The instructor, Namjoon, reminds you with a gentle smile as he notices you haven’t switched positions like the rest of the class. You nod and smoothly place your body as he had taught in the classes before.

The only reason why you came to your Saturday morning yoga class was because even with all that happened last night, you wanted to feel a sense of normality. Like you’re capable of going on about your life like nothing had happened.

That’s selfish and stupid because as much as you tried, every single moment since you woke up revolved around last night.

From the moment you opened your eyes, noticing Sunhi wasn’t sleeping next to you, snuggled into your chest like you had last remembered her to be before she fell asleep and you following soon after.

And as your heart beat faster at the thought of finding her in her dad’s arms instead, watching Saturday morning cartoons on the T.V in your living room; you instead found the place neat and tidy. The messy pillows on your couch where placed like they hadn’t even been moved to begin with, like no one besides you had been in the apartment the night before.

Somehow he managed to do all of this without you even noticing. You wondered at what time he woke up, cleaned up, took Sunhi without making any fuss and left, all before your 7 AM alarm could wake you up.

He even made you breakfast too. Some eggs, bacon and toast.

‘‘Y/N, your legs are touching the mat.’’ Namjoon notes as he stands in front of you, ‘‘Let’s focus, okay?’’

You nod once again, though this time a little more embarrassed. If only you could explain to your instructor why you’re so distracted.

No messages either. No text explaining why he had to leave so early. No sticky note placed on your fridge door about how he made you breakfast. No slight shake to your sleeping body to let you know that he’d be taking Sunhi. Nothing.

Would’ve you liked that, though?

You could say yes because he’s your friend and it’s only fair since you took care of his daughter the night before.

But it’s not right, because friends don’t kiss each other, let alone the way you had let him kiss you and touch you while his daughter slept in your room and his wife waited for both of them at home.

There was a war going on inside you between your brain and your heart.

Your heart, being a weak ass bitch, was telling you about how exciting everything was. How nice it felt to have Jungkook tell you that he wanted to be with you, that he no longer felt happy with his wife, how perfectly his lips encaptured your own and how you could still feel them on you.

But your brain, obviously being the logical one between the two, reminded you about how wrong it was. You had never wanted to be placed in a position of being ‘‘the other woman’’. That even though you might not like Jiwoo and had spent years hoping your friend would someday wake up and realize this too, this didn’t feel right.

‘‘Alright, let’s drink some water now.’’ Namjoon announces, clasping his hands together and showing off that dimple that most ─if not all─ of the students went heart eyes over.

You take the time to check your phone instead, you don’t need the water because you didn’t do shit anyway. There’s no text from Minji, who you’re scared will somehow, by the grace of everything that’s holy, find out about what you did. No text from Jungkook either and you’re wondering why he hasn’t bothered to send one.

Instead, there’s a text from Taehyung and you mutter a curse.

[8:34 AM] Taehyung: hey y/n! i’m sure you’re in your yoga class rn but i wanted to see if maybe you’d be up for lunch at my place? i’ll try and cook something nice :)

Ah, of course that throughout all of this you forgot about Taehyung.

The sweet guy who had stuck around only for you to pay him back by kissing your best friend, the one Taehyung had to pretend wasn’t bothered by his interruption that night a few weeks ago.

God, you do have a way to fuck things up for yourself.

You don’t know how long you stood there thinking what to reply to him, but it definitely was for a few minutes because you only came back to reality once you heard your name being called once by the instructor.

‘‘Y/N,’’ Namjoon repeats and you look over at him with a puzzled look, ‘‘we’re starting again, if you’d like to join us.’’ There’s that smile again. Bless his patience, you wonder if he’s actually this calm because of yoga or he’s just really good at pretending.

You look back down at your phone, the screen displaying a text that’s still waiting to be replied to.

‘‘I uhm─I gotta go, sorry.’’ You quickly reply, making Namjoon look at you with wide eyes, but he makes no effort to stop you either.

And as quickly as you can, you collect your belongings before you’re heading out the door without saying goodbye.

Either you quit yoga altogether or just apologize to Namjoon like a grownup next Saturday. Whatever it is, you’re not thinking about what decision to make about your little extracurricular right now.

There’s only so much you can handle at a time.

Jungkook is lucky that Jiwoo works Saturday mornings because with her away, he’s able to enter his house without having to sneak in.

He opens the door wide, making way for him and a slightly awake Sunhi in his arms. He drops the keys on the counter without caring about the noise it makes. He doesn’t even have to pretend like he’s walking on glass, his boots are allowed to hit the wooden floor without a care in the world.

The place doesn’t look much different from what he had left it like the day before. There’s only a dirty glass on the sink, a product of Jiwoo’s daily breakfast smoothies and since she’s always in a rush she never has time to clean it up.

‘‘Are you still sleepy, pumpkin?’’ he quietly asks his daughter and she nods, he doesn’t blame her since he’s the one who woke her up at 6 AM. ‘‘Alright, I’ll take you to your bed,” he says, a kiss on her head following shortly after.

He wonders if Jiwoo enjoyed herself last night. No daughter and no husband, sounds like an ideal night for her. It’s not like she was worried about their whereabouts either, considering she hadn’t even bothered to text him wondering why they hadn’t come home.

If Jungkook’s supposed to feel guilty, he isn’t.

He’s heard stories before about how there’s a voice in your head constantly reminding you about what you did and how wrong it is. That he’ll be unable to sleep knowing he cheated on his wife while she lies next to him. That he won’t be able to look at her again without feeling remorse all over him.

And when Jiwoo returns home at noon, there’s none of that at all. He offers her a nod of acknowledgement once she enters the living room to find him sitting with his laptop, watching through old videos that he took years back.

She puts her index finger up, telling him to give her a minute. She’s on a phone call with a friend of hers that Jungkook can only conclude is Hyeri, who he probably met at some point but can’t remember what her face looked like.

‘‘I know! Like, why do you have to be such a bitch about it? We get that you’re sucking the boss’s dick in private, so you might as well─’’

Jiwoo’s voice is too distracting and so, Jungkook places his earphones in to hear what this video’s audio is about. Once he does, he hits play and the audio is loud enough to drown out Jiwoo’s whining.

‘‘Guess who came to see you, Pumpkin?’’

Jungkook gasps as he remembers this was part of a series of videos he was supposed to show Sunhi once she was old enough to understand them. He recorded a few until he was drowning in work to even grab his camera again. It saddens him that he wasn’t able to continue.

He decides he’ll show them to her later because right now Sunhi is too busy playing with her dolls inside her room to even pay attention to him.

‘‘It’s auntie Y/N! And she came bearing gifts,’’ Jungkook smiles, switching the focus on you ‘‘is that a Fisher Price Taco Tuesday toy set that I see?’’ he wonders in a fake curious tone as you look at him with narrowed eyes ‘‘I wonder how she knew you wanted that, Sunhi. It’s not like your dad had it on his Amazon wishlist or anything.’’

‘‘Very funny.’’ You mumble, handing him the toys so you could go ahead and grab a tiny three-month-old Sunhi from the bed ‘‘Aren’t you the cutest little bean in this entire world? Aren’t you?’’ you coo at the little girl, who looks at you with wide eyes and you’re forced to blink a couple of times because she looks just like him.

‘‘Of course she is, she’s my spitting image!’’ Jungkook confirms your thought as he grabs Sunhi’s cheek gently with his fingers and squeezes, making the baby giggle.

You side-eye him and then focus your attention back on the baby in your hands, ‘‘No, you’re not, Sunhi. Your daddy is not cute at all.’’

‘‘You’re gonna make me put this camera down and have a discussion about this.’’

Jungkook chuckles at the footage, noticing how he made you smile because of his comment. The video isn’t long, it’s mostly you cooing to a then tiny Sunhi, giggling at the way you would nuzzle your nose into her belly as Jungkook laughed behind the camera.

‘‘Jungkook, look at her!’’ You practically squeal as Sunhi grabs your thumb with her little hand ‘‘Oh my gosh, I think I’m gonna cry.’’

He laughs as he does a close-up of his daughter holding on to your finger, until he hears the little sniffle you let out and the camera is now focused on you silently wiping a tear away.

‘‘Wait, you’re actually crying?’’ Jungkook asks in disbelief and you turn to look at him to find the lens focused on you ‘‘Sunhi, you’re Auntie Y/N loves you so much that she’s crying! How cute.’’

‘‘You’re so dumb, seriously.’’ you mumble with a frown, going back to gawking at the baby still holding on to your thumb.

Jungkook sighs, ‘‘I’m gonna have to bleep that out, y’know?’’

You laugh and shrug your shoulders, caressing Sunhi’s stomach. Jungkook whispers ‘cute’, so soft that you’re unable to hear it.

Once it ends, Jungkook is able to see his smiling face as it reflects on the black screen and it’s only then he realized he’d been grinning the whole time. Now his ears are filled with Jiwoo talking over the phone and his smile goes back to a straight line.

Jungkook closes the video and clicks on the next one, hoping that it’s one that involves you as well. He’s unable to press play because Jiwoo is suddenly standing in front of him, arms crossed and she’s no longer talking on her phone.

‘‘Yes?’’ He asks, removing an earbud to show her she has his full attention.

‘‘So, where were you last night?’’

Jungkook’s slightly surprised that she cares. He tends to forget there’s still some humanity left in her after all, ‘‘At Y/N’s.’’ he answers with a shrug, eyes going back to stare at the screen of his laptop.

Jiwoo scoffs and he’s forced to look at her again, eyebrow slightly raised. He hopes she doesn’t start because it’s too early and it’s a Saturday. But Jiwoo doesn’t like taking breaks like he does.

‘‘I thought you said that she wasn’t going to be able to take care of Sunhi on Fridays.’’ There’s bitterness in her tone, ‘‘so, what were you doing there?’’

Jungkook understands where Jiwoo’s curiosity comes from, but it’s strange. She’s never been the type to ask where he’s been, what he’s doing with Sunhi while she’s not around ─which is practically all the time─ and doesn’t care for your business either.

‘‘I just stopped by.’’ Jungkook mutters, stroking the nape of his neck in an attempt to not seem suspicious, ‘‘We hung out and Sunhi fell asleep, she didn’t wanna come back home.’’

And that’s true, Jiwoo narrows her eyes at him as if she’s debating whether or not to believe him and the excuse of their sleeping daughter. She doesn’t know Sunhi that well to conclude if it’s possible or not.

‘‘And what, did you all three sleep together in the same bed? Playing family, maybe?’’

Jungkook looks at her in disbelief. This is a first.

‘‘What?’’ Is all he’s able to muster because he’s genuinely shocked at her accusation.

Jiwoo rolls her eyes, ‘‘Oh, please. Like I’m going to buy that hanging out bullshit.’’ Jungkook looks like a deer stuck in headlights and she chuckles, ‘‘Is what I give to you not enough?’’

‘‘I─what are you on about?’’

He figures this is her picking a fight because he wasn’t around yesterday to attend her needs like he usually does every Friday night. But Jungkook’s mind is quick to remind him of what he did and it’d be really ironic if he denies Jiwoo’s accusations, that for the first time are actually true.

‘‘I carried around that girl for nine months, ruined my body because of her, all for you to pick someone else over me?’’ Jiwoo’s voice is raised a little higher and Jungkook can’t help but look over at Sunhi’s bedroom door and hope his daughter is not listening to anything coming from the living room. ‘‘I knew I should’ve never trusted her, I always knew your friendship with her was fucking weird.’’

Jungkook doesn’t want to raise his voice either. It’s not going to get them anywhere. But he can’t stand the way she’s speaking about his daughter and you, she’s never crossed those boundaries before.

‘‘Are you insane? How can you talk about your daughter like she’s nothing?’’ Jungkook spats out, ‘‘I’ve always been thankful for what you did, I know the shit you went through to bring her into this world.’’

But Jiwoo doesn’t care about how loud she’s being, ‘‘You’re so thankful you pay me back by fucking your best friend? While I’m alone over here waiting for you to come back?’’

Jungkook has to take a deep breath and close his eyes for a second, before he loses it.

He clears his throat, ‘‘Jiwoo, I have always chosen you. Always. I did back when I was a sophomore, I did it when I asked you to marry me, and I did it when I chose you to be the mother of my children. So, I don’t know what─’’

‘‘I don’t give a flying fuck if you chose me! I was supposed to be all of that either way, Jungkook.’’ She interjects.

Was she, though? Of course, she was his girlfriend then. It would make sense that she’d be the one to end up marrying him, having his kids and living the happy life everyone guaranteed he’d live alongside her.

But he hasn’t been thinking about the choices he ended up taking back then. Instead, he’s been wondering about the ‘what if’s and Jiwoo isn’t in any of them.

Jungkook’s been daydreaming for months now about how different his life would’ve turned out if he had never asked the pretty girl in his class all those years back and instead had focused his attention somewhere else. Or someone else..

‘‘Are you going to answer me?’’ Jiwoo’s stern voice brings him back to the reality he hates, ‘‘Were you going to pick me or was I a second choice?’’ She slowly asks, giving him an opportunity to digest every single word she spoke.

‘‘You weren’t a second choice,’’ he mumbles and his gaze has faltered and instead focused back on the screen of his laptop. Clicking on a video randomly, trying to distract himself from the situation at hand. Hoping that whatever he says is enough for Jiwoo to leave him alone.

It doesn’t help that the video automatically plays and it’s you on the first frame, a big smile as you hold Sunhi towards the camera, making her wiggle in your arms.

What if.

‘‘Show me that you love me, then.’’

The video still plays as Jungkook looks back at Jiwoo standing right in front of him, her arms are still crossed, but the look on her face is different. Her brows are no longer furrowed and Jungkook might be wrong, but he thinks her eyes look glossy.

He doesn’t act quickly enough and she takes the laptop from him, closing it before she can even notice what is it that has garnered his attention. Jiwoo straddles his lap and he jumps slightly at the action, placing her arms around his neck as she looks at him with innocent eyes.

If he didn’t know her, he would’ve believed them.

‘‘Jiwoo, let’s not─’’

‘‘I missed you yesterday,’’ she interjects in a whisper ‘‘show me that you love me right now.’’

Her lips latch onto his neck, biting and sucking on the skin as he tries to wriggle himself out of her hold, but her hands push at his chest so he can stay still.

‘‘C’mon,’’ she mumbles ‘‘show me.’’ She’s pleading by then.

He feels nothing. There’s no electricity in Jiwoo’s kisses. No tingles on his back, no goosebumps on his skin, no fireworks going off. If anything, everytime her lips meet his skin it feels bitter, like they don’t belong there at all.

‘‘Daddy, come please!’’ The muffled voice of Sunhi inside her room interrupts the one-sided moment and Jungkook is silently thanking her.

Jiwoo doesn’t make an effort to move as she keeps kissing on all the exposed skin he has to offer. Jungkook sighs in frustration as he forces her off him, making her land beside him with an astonished expression.

Her hands tighten into fists as she looks at him like he’s gone insane, ‘‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’’ She asks in disbelief.

Jungkook blinks, ‘‘Did you─?’’ He gestures with his finger over to his daughter’s room, ‘‘Sunhi is calling me.’’

His wife scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest again, ‘‘Of course, you always go running when it comes to her.’’

Contrary to his belief, there is no humanity left in Jiwoo at all. She’s just really good at pretending like she cares so she can get her way. This is the last time Jungkook falls for this trick.

Jungkook opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He repeats this action a few times, to stammer something out. Anything. But there’s nothing besides the expecting silence of his wife as she chuckles incredulously. Jungkook ignores this and turns around, a second away from opening Sunhi’s bedroom door─

‘‘You’re a waste of a husband.’’ Jiwoo sneered.

His hand drops from the door handle and he sighs, taking a deep breath in and out.

He looks back at her, ‘‘You know what, Jiwoo? I wasn’t lying when I said you weren’t my second choice.’’ he informs and her eyebrow raises up ‘‘But you aren’t my first choice now either.’’

Jiwoo scowls and heaves in anger, ready to let hell loose on him ‘‘I knew that who─’’

‘‘It’s Sunhi,’’ he states and Jiwoo closes her mouth before she can even finish her sentence. ‘‘Ever since I knew you were pregnant with her, she’s been at the top of my list and she’ll always be there. I don’t care what you do or say to me, I really don’t. You don’t love me, Jiwoo.’’

At the accusation, her eyes soften and she’s standing up to argue that it’s not true, but Jungkook raises his hand in a motion to stop her.

‘‘You don’t love me and I don’t love you.’’

Jungkook expected her to start yelling at him like she usually did, but Jiwoo’s rendered speechless on her spot as she stares at him, blinking rapidly.

‘‘I don’t love you,’’ he repeats ‘‘and I haven’t loved you for a while now. I don’t remember the last time my heart raced up when I saw you or when I stopped enjoying kissing you. And I’m sorry, because I should’ve told you instead of pretending like I did.’’

Jiwoo’s motionless as she takes all of his words in.

‘‘But I did it for her because I didn’t want her to hate me if you ever left. But that was a dumb idea because you don’t care about Sunhi. And frankly, I doubt she cares about you either. She never speaks about you, never asks about you, she’s used to you not being here even if you sort of are.’’

Jungkook places his hand over the doorknob once again and Jiwoo grimaces.

‘‘I should’ve never begged you to come back. I should’ve thought about what you wanted and it’s always been clear to me what that is,’’ Jungkook swallows the knot he feels in his throat ‘‘and it’s never been Sunhi or me.’’

‘‘Jungkook.’’

He thinks she’s about to tell him how sorry she is. That she’ll recognize how heartless she’s been and how she not only failed him, but failed their daughter too. Maybe beg for a final try at their relationship as she promises she’ll change this time.

Jungkook hums and spares her one last glance.

Jiwoo has a stoic expression on her face and she speaks under her breath, but clear enough for him to hear, ‘‘Sign the papers when you get them.’’

You expect Minji to just jump at you any minute now because if looks could kill, you’d be dead already. Maybe you should’ve pretended like you weren’t home and let Minji knock on your door until she’d give up, but even you knew better than that.

It was better to face her now than to deal with her accumulated wrath later.

‘‘When were you going to tell me?’’ She suddenly asks and it takes you by surprise because it had been way too silent since you had let her in.

Minji works like a predator, she attacks when you least expect it and right now you definitely feel like you’re about to be eaten.

‘‘I─uh…’’

She sighs and you can see the disappointment in her face, ‘‘Were you going to tell me at all?’’

You nod instead, not trusting yourself enough to speak at the moment.

It had been a week since the event in your living room and it makes you shift uncomfortably in your chair as you stare at your friend, who’s sitting on the couch where everything went down.

‘‘Then why did I have to find out through Taehyung?’’ She asks in a disappointed tone.

You figured he’d tell her. It’s not like you asked him not to do so, but you had silently prayed that the universe was on your side on this one and by some unknown reason they wouldn’t bump into each other at work and Minji, like she usually did, wouldn’t ask him about you. Because if she did, then he’d have to explain how you had broken the news that you had made out with your best friend; the one Minji despised with her soul.

A sigh escapes your lips as you lower your head with shame.

You were supposed to tell her, but every time you took your phone and tried to dial or text her, your nerves got the best of you and ended up chickening out, promising that you’d do it the next day. Then the next day. And the next day.

It’s not like you’re scared of Minji─well, maybe only slightly. But you know the effort she put into getting you to go out and meet someone new, someone that’s not married and not a father. She’s known Taehyung for so long, probably even told him how much of a good girl you were to convince him to take you out, only for you to end up throwing all of that in the trash like it was nothing.

Minji’s also spent years pushing you to move on from your friendship with Jungkook. Not just because she doesn’t like him, but because she’s always felt like he’s held you back while he’s made his way in life. You’ve stuck behind him making sure that he’s okay and happy, forgetting about yourself in the process.

‘‘I’m not angry at you,’’ she speaks softly, making you look up at her with surprise. ‘‘I just─He gave you a second chance, Y/N. Why did you say no?’’ Her words are laced with curiosity and you know that she’s asking because even Taehyung wasn’t able to give her an answer to this question.

Your bottom lip trembles and you’re trying your hardest not to burst into tears in front of him. You can’t and you won’t. How even dare you to do that?

‘‘I’m sorry,’’ you whisper and your eyes shift down to the wooden floor of his apartment. ‘‘I’m sorry, Taehyung.’’ You repeat, knowing it’s not enough.

Taehyung gulps and his crossed arms quickly fall to his sides as he realizes that, whatever anger he felt when you told him about what you did, was no longer there the moment he saw how genuinely apologetic you looked.

‘‘I’m an idiot, I know.’’ You continue, rubbing your clammy hands into the material of your leggings and it does nothing to dry them. ‘‘I’m sorry, Taehyung.’’

He knows he shouldn't be so easily swayed by your apology, but he can’t help but want to cradle you in his arms. And when he does, your eyebrows raise in surprise as you gasp because you weren’t expecting this.

You expected anger, insults thrown out about how you’re a slut and being kicked out of his apartment with him telling you to never contact him again.

Taehyung’s still sweet even when his heart is getting broken.

‘‘It’s okay,’’ he whispers into your hair as one of his hands runs up and down your back ‘‘we can work this out, yeah?’’

You bite the tip of your tongue as you take his words in, feeling your heart speeding up even faster than what it was when you spilled everything out on him. Maybe you would’ve preferred him getting angry than his current reaction.

‘‘It’s not like we were exclusive, right?’’ Taehyung chuckles, but it feels like he’s convincing himself that that was the reason as to why it happened. ‘‘Let’s forget it, seriously.’’

A shaky sigh comes out of your mouth as your arms, that hadn’t reciprocated his hug, gain the strength to separate yourself from him. He looks taken aback, but he’s waiting for you to reply in agreement because, yes, you could work this out if you try hard enough.

But that’s not realistic. Pretending like you never kissed Jungkook is not realistic at all, because it’s sad to admit that you won’t be able to kiss Taehyung again without thinking about your best friend in the back of your head as you’re reminded that not only did you let him kiss you, but you reciprocated and not only did you reciprocate, but you liked it a little too much.

‘‘Y/N,’’ he speaks up, snapping you from your thoughts,‘‘please, let’s just try.’’ He silently asks─no, begs.

The barking of his dog, Yeontan, startles you as you come to stare at the little dog at the feet of his owner, who at the moment isn’t interested to see what he wants. You never told Taehyung, but the teacup pomeranian was extremely overprotective of him.

He’s barking at you like you’re hurting his owner and maybe you aren’t physically doing any damage, but you know that you’re about to break his heart all over again.

‘‘I-I…,’’ you blink as you try to focus on the man in front of you and not the dog on the ground, ‘‘I’m sorry, I can’t.’’

Yeontan’s barks increase and Taehyung is at a loss for words to beg you to stay and talk things through. You can still hear the dog’s incessant barking as you make your way down the hall and that’s when the tears you were holding finally fall down.

‘‘Taehyung’s a nice guy, Y/N. He forgave you and you just left?’’ Minji asks, disbelief in her tone. ‘‘I thought you liked him.’’

‘‘I do!’’ You finally speak up. You’re sure of it, you like Taehyung. Your friend gives you a puzzled look because she really can’t understand you right now. ‘‘I like Taehyung, I really do,’’ you mutter, ‘‘but it’s not fair to him.’’

Minji scrunches her face up because there’s only one reason you’re thinking that way. She’s tired of this narrative, it’s old and overdone and it should’ve ended years ago.

She lets out a breathless chuckle, ‘‘You love him, don’t you?’’ Another question that takes you by surprise.

‘‘No, I just─’’

Minji holds her finger up, interrupting you, ‘‘I’m talking about Jungkook.’’

This is the attack. Not the other questions she had asked you regarding her old family friend. Not the unannounced arrival to your apartment on an uneventful Saturday morning where you had chosen to stay in bed instead of facing the peaceful yoga instructor. Not the glaring looks she had been giving you for the last minutes.

And if you weren’t ready for any of those, this one definitely takes the prize.

‘‘I-I of course I love him,’’ you mumble, ‘‘he’s my friend.’’

Minji smirks as her eyebrows raise, ‘‘No, I’m asking if you’re in love him.’’

You’re sure that the feelings that you’ve had for Jungkook have always been platonic. You do love him because he’s your friend and you’re supposed to love your friends. But you know that the love that you have for him is very different from the one you have for anyone else. It might be the history between you two. You’ve been with him through it all, cheering from the sidelines as he accomplishes one milestone after the other.

‘‘Be honest with me,’’ Minji demands, ‘‘are you in love with Jungkook?’’ she asks once again.

Your eyes well up and your bottom lip is trembling as you look back at your intimidating best friend because your silence is deafening and you’re expecting her to throw the last blow. You think you deserve it. Minji has so much she wants to say, but you look so dejected and she figures that you might’ve just realized it.

‘‘Hey, it’s okay.’’ She comes up to you quickly, crouching down as she looks up at the tears rolling down your reddened cheeks. ‘‘Y/N, it’s okay.’’

You’ve been trying to tell yourself the same thing the past few days.

It’s okay that you kissed your best friend. It’s okay that you’ve slowly and silently started harbouring feelings for him. It’s okay that you just realized you’ve been in love with him for a while now. It’s okay that you’ve been resenting the fact that he didn’t choose you all those years ago. It’s okay that you take care of and love his daughter like she’s yours.

But...

‘‘No, it’s not.’’ You cry, ‘‘I can’t do that, Minji, he’s not mine to have.’’

Your mind quickly brings you back to the harsh reality, which is that Jungkook will never be yours. He probably only kissed you because he was looking for something that was capable of exciting him again after realizing how bored of his marriage he is. He doesn’t love you like that, he’ll never love you like that.

Minji can’t disagree with what you just said, but she also feels like right now is not the time to make you feel even worse when it’s obvious you’re already there.

‘‘I blocked his number, anyway.’’ You mumble out, wiping away your tears.

Your friend’s eyes widened at the revelation, ‘‘What?’’.

‘‘I freaked out after I talked to Taehyung because I felt so guilty and you know how I don’t know how to deal with shit ever, so I just─’’ You stop yourself from rambling and sigh as you feel Minji’s hand squeezing your knee as a sign of comfort, ‘‘I can’t see him again without thinking about it. I can’t take care of Sunhi knowing he’s going home to sleep with Jiwoo. I just can’t keep pretending anymore.’’

Minji can’t do much after that, you’ve become a sobbing mess and the tears seem unstoppable. She’s never seen you like this and it dawns on her that you’ve held all of this in for way too long.

It’s ironic because she’s always told you that you need space from Jungkook, thinking it’d be good for you to finally realize that you’re not part of his list of priorities anymore and hadn’t been for a long time.

But she hadn’t taken into account what the after effects of not having him in your life anymore would look like.

[12:03 PM] Jeon Jungkook: hi y/n

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[12:04 PM] Jeon Jungkook: hey???

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[12:07 PM] Jeon Jungkook: i wanted to see if you’d like to meet up for lunch one of these days? i feel like we need to talk

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[5:13 PM] Jeon Jungkook: does this work now??

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Jungkook groans in annoyance as he finds another one of his texts left undelivered. It feels like life is either against him or doing this for his own good.

Nonetheless, he wants to talk to you because it’s been a few days since he last saw and heard from you. He figures you’re mad, the last words you spoke to him didn’t sound friendly at all and he wonders if maybe leaving without saying goodbye that day was the right thing to do.

The small snores coming from beside him make him realize Sunhi is finally asleep and he can’t help but let out a sigh of disappointment as he watches her curl into a fetal like position, clutching her Dumbo plush toy and slightly drooling into his favorite pillow, making him pout because he knows he won’t be able to pry it away from her when he decides to fall asleep too.

Sunhi being fast asleep is supposed to bring peace to Jungkook’s tiring day, though the silence is extremely uncomfortable and these days he’s come to realize how much he rather have his daughter running around and yelling in excitement than this.

Complete and utter silence.

[7:13 PM] Jeon Jungkook: (1.jpg attached) sunhi misses auntie y/n!! she’s been asking me about you a lot

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[7:15 PM] Jeon Jungkook: i miss auntie y/n more tho…

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[7:17 PM] Jeon Jungkook: i hope ur alright :)

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‘‘Pumpkin, you can stop smiling already.’’ Jungkook chuckles as he looks up from his phone, noticing his daughter still holding the big smile he had given him when he requested to take a picture of her to send to you. ‘‘I already sent the picture to Auntie Y/N.’’ He informs and she sighs with relief, massaging her cheeks from straining them too hard.

Though his eyebrows furrow, noticing his messages have once again been left undelivered. He makes a mental note to call the phone company soon, because it’s been over a week since he last sent the first messages and those remained in the same state as well.

‘‘Daddy, unpause!’’ Sunhi demands, making him realize that he’s in the middle of showing her his favorite Pixar movie, Cars.

Twenty minutes had passed and for a majority of them Sunhi had only watched attentively and Jungkook looked over at her every other second just to make sure she hadn’t fallen asleep. Warmness spread throughout him as he noticed his daughter looking at the screen with those big doe eyes she had inherited from him.

Once the scene where Sally shows Lightning McQueen around Radiator Springs, Jungkook feels a tug at his sweatshirt and looks down to notice Sunhi’s little hand grabbing at the fabric, her eyes are still glued to the screen.

“Auntie Y/N likes this too?” She asks and Jungkook chuckles because his daughter can’t stop thinking about his friend even when doing anything completely unrelated to you.

Maybe that’s another thing she inherited as well.

[7:03 PM] Jeon Jungkook: so i called my phone company and asked them abt why my messages aren’t being delivered and they said that you must’ve blocked me

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[7:04 PM] Jeon Jungkook: yeah i guess you did

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Jungkook’s mind has gone blank ever since he got off the phone with the cellphone company.

The idea that you might’ve blocked his number had not once crossed his mind during the weeks of undelivered texts and phone calls sent straight to voicemail. It was obvious, but he didn’t think you’d be capable of doing it.

He wanted it to be a network issue or something else that he could put blame on instead of facing the realization that you had shut him out from your life. And that thought hurt, no─stung him.

The worst part is that he knows he deserves it. It was foolish of him to think that you had enjoyed the kiss too. Dumb enough to believe that you might’ve reciprocated the way he felt.

Jungkook doesn’t want to think this is the end, maybe it’s that stupid voice inside his head that always holds on to things that he knows he should let go of. But he can’t just let go of this and move on.

He doesn’t remember what life was like before you and he sure as hell does not want to know what it’ll be like without you.

[1:30 AM] Jeon Jungkook: i miss you so fucking much i’m sorry if i knew that kissing you would’ve fucked everything up htne i woudl’ve never done it y/n i’m sorry

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[1:31 AM] Jeon Jungkook: i really wanted to kiss you but it was selfish of me to do it i didnt think about what you must’ve felt im sos sorry

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[1:32 AM] Jeon Jungkook: sunhi’s been asking me about yoj and i dont even know what to say anymore

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[2:27 AM] Jeon Jungkook: i don’t even care if you dont wanna speak to me anymore i fucked this up for sunhi she loves you so much and you’re her favorite person ever and i ruined it for her just bc i wanted to see if you felt the same way as i do

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[3:50 AM] Jeon Jungkook: i miss you y/n i really do

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“Daddy, lemme go!” Sunhi whines trying to escape from her father’s hands as he finishes applying the sunscreen on her arms, “Daddy!”.

He gives her a stern look and the toddler huffs, sticking her bottom lip out in an act of annoyance. The playground games are waiting for her and she feels like her dad is just coming between them and her.

“Alright,” he pats his big hands on her tiny arms, “you’re good to—“ Jungkook isn’t able to finish his sentence because his daughter’s already running towards one of the slides, “Sunhi, be careful!” He reminds her, but she’s too focused on the rides than on her dad’s warning.

Jungkook sighs and relaxes into the bench.

“She’s precious,” She comments with a small smile as her attention focuses on the little girl having the time of her life going down the slide, “I’m surprised she’s yours.”

Jungkook looks over at the woman beside him and scoffs, but he can’t help but agree. Sunhi is too good and too pure, the best thing he’s ever done in his life.

“Yeah, well, it’s all her.” Jungkook admits, eyes focusing back on Sunhi, “She’s really great.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence between them and Jungkook has to clear his throat to gain her attention.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t meet up at a café,” Jungkook apologizes and nods over at his daughter, “she’s been a little misbehaved lately, you said you wanted to talk to me and I figured that if I took Sunhi to a place like that she’d just—“

She interrupts his rambling, “Hey, it’s okay. I have no problem, really.” She assures him and he nods slightly, “I haven’t been in a place like this in a long time.”

Jungkook scratches the back of his neck and glances over at the woman who’s looking at him with an expression he can’t quite pinpoint. It makes him so nervous that he quickly shifts his gaze to the ground.

“This is so weird.” He admits with an awkward chuckle and she raises her eyebrow, “I mean—you hate me, Minji, so I don’t know what you want to talk about.”

“I don’t hate you!” Minji laughs and Jungkook finally looks at her and she falters, “Seriously! I only dislike you and that’s saying a lot.”

He supposes that’s a good thing, considering how aggressive Minji used to be towards him back in college. Always letting him know how much she despised his guts, how he didn’t deserve to have you as his friend and even once threw a drink at his face during a party; though you swore to him she was drunk and that she didn’t mean it.

Jungkook hadn’t seen her much since, only a few times if it was your birthday and they managed to cross paths, because the girl made sure she was never in the same room as him. The times it happened, he felt like she was throwing daggers at him through her eyes.

“It always bothered me how putty in your hands she was for you,” Minji begins, crossing her arms over her chest as she settles back into the bench, “and how oblivious you were about it.”

Jungkook looks back at her and there’s a small smile on her face, most likely looking over at his daughter.

“How when we got together for study sessions, she’d be tired because she was taking care of you the night before at one of those stupid frat parties you loved dragging her to.” Minji recalls and Jungkook feels like his mouth has gone dry from the memory.

She crosses one of her legs over the other, “Or that whole Jiwoo ordeal, how you had practically put Y/N aside once you managed to date the ‘campus hottie’.” She says with air quotes and Jungkook sighs, remembering the beginning of it all.

He knows that he can’t turn back time and change it all. Even if he could, he knows he wouldn’t. If there was no Jiwoo, there’d be no Sunhi.

An excited yell startles him as he looks over at his daughter, swinging up and down. “Look, daddy! I'm flying!” She calls and he smiles at her.

“Jesus, that’s fucking precious.” Minji mumbles, but he hears her nonetheless and nods in agreement. “Anyway, I’m not going to act like a saint here and pretend I was vouching for you, because I never did.”

Jungkook knows. Back then he didn’t understand why Minji was so adamant about trash talking him to you, considering how he and her barely knew each other. Actually, whatever knowledge they had of the other was through of you.

But Jungkook’s done a lot of self reflecting for the past month and a half and he’s realized why Minji disliked him so much. Or, dislikes. Either way, it’s valid.

“I just wanted her to snap out of it,” she confesses, “and realize that there is a life beyond you. That there’s more than being your best friend and your daughter’s babysitter. That she’s capable of moving on and putting you aside, because if you did that to her then why shouldn’t she?”

Jungkook hadn’t thought about any of that at all. He had realized he had been a shitty friend, but the idea of just how much definitely hadn’t settled on him. He wishes you knew how much he’s cared about you, but that there were too many overlapping lines for him to ever express it.

“I thought that after setting her up with Taehyung she had finally realized it,” she continues “but you know how she is, she rarely lets up and I knew she wasn’t going to let you go that easily.”

Jungkook draws in a long breath, rubbing his now clammy hands in his jeans as he looks back towards Minji.

“I mean, she couldn’t let her go that easily.” She jerks her head towards Sunhi, still sitting on the swings, though she’s slowed down now. “She loves that little girl so damn much.”

Jungkook’s sure of this. He recognizes the immense love you have for Sunhi, how sincere and unconditional it is. It’s the way a mother loves her child, though he never expected it to come from you instead. He’s not surprised though, because it’s the same love you gave to him. But it’s louder, there are no boundaries that you needed to respect to show Sunhi just how much you loved her, unlike with him.

It dawns on him that cutting him off must’ve been hard. You probably wanted to do it for way longer and only stayed because of Sunhi and Jungkook doesn’t want to think about the dilemma you must’ve went through to finally do it this time around.

He runs his hands through his hair, letting out a shaky breath, remembering that Sunhi doesn’t have you anymore. That’s the reason as to why she’s been so misbehaved lately, crying way too often, throwing tantrums over the smallest of things. Jungkook could blame it on the fact that she’s soon turning four and maybe it’s something that comes with age, it might just be a coincidence that she’s acting this way during a time you’re no longer present in her life.

This is the thing Sunhi might not be able to forgive him for.

“Minji,” he finally speaks up and the woman beside him focuses his gaze back on him, “I miss her so much.” He mumbles, not trusting himself to speak up because he might choke back a sob.

“Only now?”

“No!” He says this a little too harshly and Minji jumps slightly at the tone in his voice, “I’ve always missed her and I’m fucking idiot for realizing too late.”

She hums and Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with rapid breaths, “She’s my first thought when I wake up and when I finally manage to go to sleep. Sunhi constantly reminds me about her, asking me where she is and when can she see her and I have to force myself to lie.”

Jungkook doesn’t realize Minji’s hand is now awkwardly placed on his back, hesitantly tapping as if to give him some comfort. It’s weird to see him like this, she had convinced herself that the guy didn’t have any feelings when it came to you.

“She blocked my number, I can’t call her and all my texts have been left undelivered. I’ve driven by her apartment building too many times with the plan to go up and talk to her, but I always back out because I’m an idiot and I know she’ll hate me if I do that and I—“

“Jungkook.”

“I just want to know if she still cares, I don’t mind if she doesn’t feel the same way. But I want to know that Y/N still cares about Sunhi and me. Do you know? Does she? Could you please—“

Jungkook’s ramble is interrupted by the crying sounds of Sunhi, who’s now on the ground as she sobs and he quickly stands up to go straight towards her. He blinks away the tears that had formed in his eyes because there’s only room for one crying baby here.

“Pumpkin, what happened?” He asks in a soft voice, crouching down at her level and she’s pouting as she points at her bloody knee. “Did you fall down?” She nods and he sighs, picking her up as he takes her back to the bench where Minji waits with expectancy to check on the little girl.

Jungkook places Sunhi beside her and looks through his daughter’s bag for the emergency kit he carried around. He cleans the blood delicately with a gauze and alcohol, making the little girl wince and yelp out an ‘ouch!’ as she holds tightly to Minji’s thigh.

“It’s okay, Pumpkin.” He reassures her with a smile, making his daughter nod because she trusts her dad, “It was an accident and accidents are part of growing up, right?” She nods again and Minji figures this isn’t a first for her.

Once the blood has been cleaned, Jungkook places a cute rainbow patterned bandaid on the wound in her knee.

“There we go,” he announces and Sunhi lets out the breath she’d been holding, ‘‘all done! Are you good now?”

“Yes,” Sunhi weakly replies, “daddy, I wanna go home.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but the look on her face tells him that she’s probably still shaken by the accident and most likely wants to take a nap to forget about it.

He looks over at Minji with an apologetic look and she gives him half a smile, “Go, it’s alright.”

Jungkook nods and takes Sunhi in his arms, which she gladly accepts and settles her head in the crook of his neck. Minji’s ready to leave, figuring there was no point in staying any longer.

“Minji, wait!” He stops her before she goes, making her turn around and offer him a curious look, “Sunhi’s birthday is in a few weeks and,” Jungkook reaches for something inside his daughter’s bag, “she really wants Y/N to be there.” He whispers, taking out a party invitation to hand over to Minji.

She smirks, looking at the personalized invitation for his daughter’s fourth birthday, “Just Sunhi?” She asks and he lets out a breathless laugh.

“Me too.” Jungkook adds and a small smile appears on his face as he says it. “Uh—thank you for talking to me, I know it must’ve been hard.”

Minji swats her hand in the air, “It’s alright, just wanted to make sure how you and the kid were doing. It’s all she talks about anyway.”

A gasp escapes his lips and he holds on to his daughter tighter as she nuzzles her face farther in.

“I’ll give her the card, but—I can’t guarantee if she’ll go.” She warns and he nods, understanding.

Though he does not like the possible outcome, he settles down with the idea that you’ll notice how even though you both haven’t spoken towards each other in almost two months, he’s still thinking about you either way. Every day.

#jungkook angst #jungkook au #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #bts fanfic #bts smut #f: chasing pavements

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leftoverenvy · 2 years

Text

Tastes Like Sugar (ch. 11)

Pairing: India Mae Banks x Emily Prentiss; OC x Emily Prentiss

Warnings: eventual smut; sugar baby relationships; age gap (16 years - but all over 18)

Word Count: 2.5k

Read on Wattpad | Ao3 | Previous Chapters

Chapter 11 - Meet the Family

Emily's POV: I frantically flew down the stairs, trying to figure out how I could make it to work in fifteen minutes when I lived over half an hour from Quantico. No matter how much I rushed, I knew I couldn't make up that time. It was my own fault for being so late this morning. Last night, I had stayed up far too late daydreaming about Indi. And then my daydreams turned a little explicit and I couldn't help but relieve some of that tension. I had been up all night, sleeping only a couple hours. So it wasn't surprising when my alarm went off this morning that I hit snooze. And hit it again. And several times more until I was extremely late.

Indi was so sweet trying to help me get out the door. She grabbed my briefcase and put it by the back door for me. She rushed around the kitchen trying to make me breakfast. When I finally was ready to leave, I remembered that I didn't have a go-bag at work. I hadn't packed one after the last case, and I was supposed to do it days ago, but I wasn't used to having such a distraction at home. Not that it was Indi's fault – obviously, it was mine.

I rolled my eyes, groaned, and ran back upstairs to hastily shove a bunch of clothes haphazardly in my duffle bag. It wasn't the bag I liked, but I had no idea where my other one was. If we were called on a case today, I would look a mess. I couldn't even remember if I packed underwear, but I had to go.

I jogged back down the stairs, placed my go-bag on the kitchen counter, and turned to grab my briefcase. "Wait!" India called. "Don't forget breakfast, Em! You need it. I know you done't eat lunch at work." She looked so cute standing there with huge, sincere eyes and her tiny hands holding breakfast out for me.

I couldn't resist her. I was already late, so what was a couple more seconds? I walked towards her, placed my hands around her cheeks, and kissed her on the forehead. I inhaled deeply, trying to breathe her in so she would stay with me throughout the day. "I appreciate it so much, Indi, thank you," I said grabbing the food from her hands. And then I was back to rushing, trying to mitigate Hotch's inevitable anger at my tardiness.

During my drive, because I was so late, traffic felt like it was moving exceptionally slowly. I silently fumed in the driver's seat, my grip turning white against the steering wheel. But I finally made it – thirty-five minutes late. I opened the back door of my car, my hand automatically reaching in for my go-bag only to be met with an empty seat. I popped the trunk, but it wasn't there either. I checked the front seat and the back seat again. Nothing. I groaned and slammed the door closed. It was so unlike me to forget my go-bag, and I had wasted time this morning packing it only to leave it on the kitchen counter.

I didn't have time to go back home to grab it, so I berated myself the whole way up to the BAU for letting myself be so distracted by and involved with a girl. India Mae was one dangerous creature. It was remarkable how I had changed so much of my life for her in such a short amount of time. When I got upstairs, for the first time in my life, I was grateful we had a paperwork day. It meant I didn't need a go-bag. Even if I hadn't forgotten my go-bag, whatever was erratically thrown in that duffle bag probably wouldn't be helpful for a case anyway.

I continued to chat with the gang for a few minutes, trying to put off my inevitable conversation with Hotch for as long as possible. Though we didn't have a case yet, it wasn't completely off the table that we'd be called in later today. And I wouldn't have time to run home if that were the case. I knocked on Hotch's door.

"Come in," Hotch said gruffly. Great, he was in a stupendous mood for this conversation. I walked in and he stiffly pointed out, "You're late, Prentiss."

"I am." There was no excuse and I knew he didn't want some bullshit reason to come out of my mouth. Besides, what would I even tell him? Sorry I was so horny last night and stayed up too late, so I couldn't bother to get out of bed on time this morning? I was certain that would be well-received.

"Don't let it happen again. What do you need?"

I bit my lip, nervous by his grumpy demeanor this morning. "I, uh, well in my rush to get out of the house this morning, I seemed to have forgotten my go-bag at home. I know we don't have a case now, but I wouldn't have time later today to get it if we did have a case. So I was wondering…" He stared at me blankly. "…should I go home now to get it? Or do you want to gamble us getting a case?" He sighed, leaned back in his chair, and started thinking, his pointer finger coming to rest over his mouth. I was uneasy under his hard gaze so I looked out the window of his office. And to my complete surprise, India Mae was standing in the bullpen, my go-bag in her hand.

My heart warmed at the sight. If she were here so quickly, it meant she saw my go-bag and immediately left right after me. I absolutely did not deserve her selflessness. She would be late to class because of this; the thought caused guilt to flood my chest. And then anger replaced that guilt when I saw Derek leaning into India's space and her leaning away. I had no right to feel possessive over her, but my feelings wouldn't let me be rational. All I knew was that Derek was a player, and he was moving in on my girl. Not your girl, I reminded myself.

"Excuse me," I said distractedly, rudely running out of Hotch's office in the middle of a conversation. I walked briskly around the catwalk to the stairs, my eyes never leaving Indi and Derek.

"What can I help you with, sugar lips?" he asked in a smooth, confident voice. I almost threw up.

"I'm looking for someone," I heard India say.

"I'm someone," Derek flirted back. Oh hell no. I loved Derek, but he needed to back off.

"Never gonna happen, Morgan," I said with a little too much bite in my voice. I saw Indi's shoulders relax slightly.

"Now hold on now, Prentiss," he objected, his eyes never leaving Indi. "You don't know that." I saw Indi smirk.

"I do," I said firmly. I moved closer to India, pulling my duffle bag from her hands. "Thank you for bringing my go-bag, baby," I said pulling her under my arm. I don't know what came over me. Maybe it was Derek's still-lingering eyes, or maybe it was the fact that no one – including her – knew she was mine. My lips pressed against her temple, and she leaned into me. "I appreciate it."

"Prentiss!" Derek said in shock. "Who's this?"

"My girlfriend," I said a bit smugly. "India." I felt her lean further into me, and I smiled down at her, rubbing my thumb against her shoulder. She fit so perfectly into my side it was like we were made for each other.

"YO REID!" Morgan shouted. I felt her flinch at his loud voice. Reid poked his head up from his desk. "Did you know Prentiss was dating someone?"

"What's this?" Rossi asked, poking his head out of his office. "Emily's dating?"

"Emily's dating?!" JJ asked coming around the corner from the kitchen. I could kill Morgan for shouting so loud and summoning the whole team. Especially JJ. I wasn't ready for our history to come out in front of the team, and I prayed she wouldn't say anything horrible to India. I wasn't sure why I was acting so serious – this wasn't real for her. No matter how real it was getting for me, it was just a business deal for her.

I felt India shift under my arm, probably uncomfortable by all the attention. She hated attention on her.

"So," David said excitedly, "Introduce us!"

"Hi," she said shyly and I thought I'd melt from how cute she was. "I'm India Mae. I was just dropping Em's bag off. I didn't mean to disrupt the whole office."

"No worries, India Mae," I smirked at David using her full name. "We are thrilled to meet you. Emily doesn't date. Ever." I cringed, hoping JJ wouldn't pipe up. "So we are all too thrilled to meet you. Prentiss, you must bring her to dinner soon. I'll make pasta alla Rossi."

I smiled warmly, already thrilled David was making an effort to include her. "Indi's allergic to shrimp," I told him.

"Em," she lightly protested, embarrassed.

"No shrimp," David assured.

"Uh," Indi shuffled her feet. "I need to get to class…"

"Oh god! Baby, I'm so sorry!" I could have smacked myself on the forehead. I knew she was going to be late, but I was so wrapped up in showing her off to the team. "Thank you again for bringing my go-bag. I can't tell you what a savior you are."

"It's not a big deal, Em, really." She looked down, obviously embarrassed.

"Yes, it is," I corrected. I kissed her longingly on the forehead, my eyes closing at the contact. "Have a good day in classes, today. I'll see you tonight," I said stroking my thumb over her cheek bone. "And if we're called away on a case, I'll send you a text, okay?"

She nodded, and said, "Bye…" Her word trailed off, her eyes not leaving mine. Was she pulling out of my arms reluctantly? "It was nice to meet all of you," she said as almost an afterthought. Her eyes remained on mine. I didn't know if I was reading too much into things, but I could swear I saw my own longing reflected back in her eyes.

The team remained silent as India walked across the bullpen, but as soon as the glass door closed behind her, they jumped on me like ravenous lions.

I heard the following questions at the same time, each voice indistinguishable from the other. "How come you didn't tell us you were dating?" "How long have you been dating?" "Since WHEN are you dating??" Okay that last one was clearly from JJ's bitter voice.

"Guys, please! It isn't serious. We've only been together about a month," I fibbed.

"A month??" Morgan asked incredulously. "And you're already bringing her around? It must be serious to you," he pointed out.

To brush off how much I liked her, I quickly pointed out, "Well, it's not like I 'brought her around' today. I just forgot my go-bag."

"Uh huh," Derek smirked, not buying it.

"So," David said suggestively.

"…So…what?" I asked.

"How did you meet?! We're dying to know."

"You are nothing more than a rotten gossip, David Rossi."

"And?" he asked with raised eyebrow.

"And we'll have nothing to talk about at dinner if you don't let up." I needed to ask JJ about earlier. It would eat at me all day if I didn't. And I didn't want to bring India around if JJ had unresolved business. "JJ can I talk to you privately?"

"Wait!" Morgan protested. "Prentiss, you can't just bring a girl here and then walk away!"

"I can and I will. JJ?" I asked walking away from the group of animals I called friends.

When we settled in the kitchen, alone, she turned to me, anger burning in her eyes. "What?" she asked sharply, her arms crossing over her chest.

I put my hands up defensively. I didn't want this to become a fight. I had fought with her enough for a lifetime. All my fight was extinguished; she wasn't worth it. "I just wanted to ask what that comment was about earlier."

"It's nothing." I stared at her. She couldn't be serious. "I just didn't expect you to move on so quickly. Especially with someone so young." I stiffened. "And after I tried calling you a few nights ago…" she said softly.

I gasped. "It's been MONTHS, JJ. What? Did you just expect me to be on your hook forever? Keep me on the back burner in case things didn't work out with Will?"

"How dare you?! What! You think Will and I won't work out?"

I shook my head, baffled by that. "I never said that, JJ. Stop putting words in my mouth." She opened her mouth to say something else, but I raised my hand. "I didn't come here to fight, JJ. I'm done fighting with you. I'm happy now. Just, please, let me be happy with her and stop calling."

"How old is she?" Why was she so hung up on this?

"Twenty-two." She scoffed. "Don't," I warned.

"Whatever," she said brushing past me. I hung my head and blew out a large exhale. Would it ever be easy with her?

"You okay?" Rossi asked tentatively. I cleared my throat and looked up at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry if you had to hear that."

"When did she get like that with you?" he asked, fatherly concern lacing his voice. I swallowed thickly. The last time he used that tone was when I was telling him about my past abortion.

"It was always like that, really," I admitted. "Look, please don't make this a big thing. It's in the past."

"Okay," he said putting his hands up. "We don't have to talk about it. I just came to say that India seems great."

"Yeah," I said flatly. "She is."

"Is she not?" he asked confused.

"No!" I rushed to correct him. "She's incredible," I said genuinely this time. "She's really something else." My tone turned morose thinking about how she wasn't really mine.

"She seems great for you. What's the problem?" He looked at me with critical eyes narrowing in thought. "Don't tell me you're running at the first sign of something real."

"It's not that…"

"Then what? I saw how you two looked at each other! I know love when I see it. Believe me, I've had three wives."

I chuckled at his lame attempt at a joke. "No, you don't understand Rossi…I-" I stopped, embarrassed to tell him the truth. Acknowledging the reality of our relationship out loud made it real. It closed off the door to anything more. He was waiting so patiently while I shuffled my feet around and picked at my fingernails. "I actually did take your advice," I said softly, "and continued on that website. That's where we met. She doesn't love me. What you don't understand is that this isn't actually real."

"No, Emily," he said sympathetically, "What you don't understand is that it IS."

_ _ _

Continue to next chapter

#🌬 fics #tastes like sugar #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x oc #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds au #wlw writing

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haikyuuwaifu · 4 years

Text

Trip

Reader x Keigo x Bakugo x Shinsou x Shoto Poly

Warnings: Swearing

MASTERLIST

LOUIS VUITTON FIASCO

Y/N and Momo, but mostly Momo had decided that they would dedicate their last free day in the city to shopping. “It’s a celebratory shopping trip for finally getting the keys to the new shop!” Momo cheered, as the two friends made their way into the shopping center. “I mean, I was thinking of hookers and cocaine; but I guess blowing money is also fine.” Y/N declared snickering at the snort that came out of Momo’s nose. “Don’t even joke about something like that, Izuku would cry about it the whole time.” Momo huffed out as she and Y/N made their way to the Boba shop.

A few hours into their shopping day, the two friends made their way around the massive shopping center, idly making conversation. “You know what!” Y/N exclaimed clutching Momo’s hand, “We need to go to Louis Vuitton! I think they’re new line is out and they have this wallet I’ve been eyeing for months.” and at break neck speed the two women booked it, to one of their favorite stores; only to be greeted by the sight of a chubby faced, short haired woman screeching at the sales person, who looked like she was going to cry. The woman was dressed in a pair of leggings, and a crop top. She had a pair of gucci sunglasses perched a top her head, and her nails looked newly manicured. From a distance, she looked like the rich bitch type; but growing up with Momo taught Y/N one thing; and that was how to tell the difference between a rich bitch and a fake hoe miles away.

As the two women approached the store, they failed to noticed an angry looking man walking behind them, headed in the same direction. He was tall, with broad shoulders and spikey ash blond hair. The sides were faded extra short and the top was long. He had tattoos running down his arms and across his chest. The tank-top he was wearing under his flannel showed his back piece peeking if someone were to look hard enough. The snarl he made is what actually alerted Y/N to his presense behind her; and she swiftly tugged Momo out of his war path. Muttering an apology Bakugo proceeded towards the direction of the store, surprising both women when he stepped inside.

Inside the store, Katsuki was standing behind his girlfriend as he listened to her scream and yell at the salesperson about whatever dumbass reason she was yelling. Honestly he didn’t give a shit; didn’t even want to fucking come on his only day off this week, but what the fuck ever. As he half listened to her ranting, the front entrance dinged notifying the store that another customer had entered. “I-I’ll be with you ladies in a moment.” the store clerk had stuttered out; as Ochaco continued to rant and rave. “Oh don’t you worry sweetie; we can wait for you to finish with that unruly customer.” one of the women murmured smiling softly. The woman next to her cackled, and it brought a small smirk to Katsuki’s face. “Just say it Momo, a circus is missing it’s prized banshee.” At the sound of the insult, Ochaco whipped her head around; ready to yell when she was met with the site of not one, but two alpha women. A part of her wanted to shrink back, she had never had the nerve to deal with two of them; but most of her was going to put these bitches in their place. Before she could though, one of them had stepped away to look around. “I’ll leave this for you Y/N, I’m going to see those wallets you were talking about.” Momo whispered as she turned and made her way to the wall on the other side of the store.

Uraraka smiled internally pleased to be left with who she presumed as the more docile of the two women. Y/N looked at the other woman, eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you alright miss?” Y/N asked the sales clerk, as she moved around the other woman. The clerk, nodded slightly eyes filled with unshed tears. Y/N pulled the shorter woman in for a hug and patted her back softly “It’s alright, I’ll deal with this; can you do me a favor and grab me some of these?” she asked, showing the clerk exactly what she was looking for. Nodding slightly, the sales woman answered, “I’ll be sure to get those right away ma’am.” As she turned to go to the back, Ochaco reached her hand out only for it to be stopped by Y/N. “I don’t think so chubs; you and I are going to have a discussion about how to treat retail workers.”

“How I treat the help is none of your business.” Ochaco snarled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Aren’t retail worker supposed to stick together?” Y/N asked, looking down at her nails in disinterest. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” as the two women are interacting, Katsuki is silently taking this scene in. In most cases, he’d deal with it himself; but Uraraka fucked herself this time. He knew she was in the wrong; and he was going to let her deal with the repercussions for it. “You think, I can’t tell that you work in a department store?” Y/N asked looking the other woman up and down. She laughed slightly at the way the short haired girl puffed her cheeks. “Let me guess, you’re a part time cashier in a department store; and then you have a small youtube channel about “fitness”” Y/N asked air quoting the word fitness. Beside them Katsuki snickered. “Babe, you’re supposed to be in my corner!” Uraraka snarled facing her boyfriend. “Kind of hard to do when she’s got you pegged cheeks; and she’s right, you shouldn’t be talking to that woman that way.” Katsuki grumbled out. Y/N chose to ignore the shot of lust that went straight to her pussy at the sound of his voice.

As Ochaco moved to say something, the clerk had returned with the items Y/N had asked for. “Here’s everything you requested miss, and you’re in luck; this is the last wallet until we restock next month.” the clerk smiled eyes shining with veiled pettiness at the fact that the short haired woman wouldn’t get what she came in there screaming for. “You fucking told me you were sold out!” Ochaco screeched ready to lunge at the sales clerk. “I never said that ma’am. I said I’d have to go back and check; you would have known that had you bothered to shut your mouth and listen.” the clerk stated narrowing her eyes slightly. “Tell her girl! Go on!” Y/N stated, sifting through the wallet pockets. On the other end of the store Momo was cackling quietly as well as updating the GC of the days current events. “Do you know who the fuck i am?! Who the fuck my boyfriend is? He’ll fucking crush you!” Uraraka screeched, slamming her fists on the glass. “Sir, I think it’s time you take your child home. She’ll no longer be allowed to shop here.” the clerk stated sternly towards Katsuki. “Fucking christ cheeks; it’s a stupid fucking wallet and it was probably too damn expensive anyway.” he grumbled, trying to drag her out of the store. “It was only 1500 Katsuki, and you promised you’d buy it for me!” she screeched out latching onto the counter top. Katsuki let out a snort of disbelief, “You must be fucking crazy if you think I’m going to shell out 1500 dollars for a fucking wallet you’re only buying for the aesthetic.” He snarled out unlatching her hands from the counter top. “Now let’s fucking go.” As he made his way towards the exit Y/N waved her black card in front of Ochaco’s face; “I’ll take two of everything to make up for that shitty customer. You get paid based on commission right?” Y/N asked cheekily, and all that could be heard through the shopping center was an enraged Uraraka Ochaco and a swearing Katsuki Bakugo.

“I don’t know what the fuck is in Tokyo water, but the men here are sexy and the women here suck.” Y/N mumbled to Momo as the two made their way to the parking lot. To their surprise, Katsuki was out there sitting on the hood of his car; seemingly waiting for them. “I uh...I wanted to apologize for my girlfriends shit behavior.” he mumbled out scratching the back of his neck as he cast his eyes down to the ground. Y/N stepped forward and titled his chin up with her index finger. “You’re a fucking king, so fucking act like it; and don’t go apologizing for her shitty behavior. She’s an adult, and she should take responsibility for her own actions.” Y/N huffed out a pretty smile stretching over her features. Booping his nose, she giggled at the way his cheeks flushed and waved as she walked passed him. “See you around King!” she called behind her as she and Momo made their way towards the car, Katsuki watching them a shocked look on his face.

That night, Katsuki was in his apartment alone, as Uraraka was still pissed with him; so she had opted to stay with Camie for a while. He spent that evening playing over Y/N’s words and continued to do so into the following morning.

-Katsuki and Uraraka have been together for 10 years. In the beginning of their relationship Katsuki was very outspoken and he didn’t let anyone treat him any kind of way. As the relationship progressed Izuku and Denki could see that the Katsuki he was acting like wasn’t the Katsuki they really knew. Being with Ochaco made him soft, in the ways that he shouldn’t have been; and she’s spent the last number of years walking all over him. Y/N could tell what kind of person he should have been and she hoped her reminder that he was more than he was being treated stuck; and it did.

-That following Monday showed a bit of the old Katsuki, and it started with him NOT paying Ochaco’s bills anymore.

@dabilove27 @ouijaeater15 @kit-kat428 @lia-faerie-queen @stickystrawberrysyrup @mushimoon14 @iloveyouasmuchaspoohloveshoney @patricia-ceballos @starrygoblin @cathy8taffy @moon-spirit-yue @eraser-baby @yafriendlyfangirl @ditu-m9 @loverofallthingsfoxy @percabethismyotp14 @alorathebear

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gallavictorious · 3 years

Text

Outsider POV Gallavich Fic: Captive Look

For a while there this spring, I was mildly obsessed with the CO in 10x03: you know, the good-looking guy who seems so completely unfazed by finding two armed inmates stabbing an old man, and then for whatever reason doesn't report it? (He can't have; Ian's parole wouldn't have happened so soon after something like that.) I also really dig his beard... Anyway, IMDB identifies him as Raymond and I've had this short little piece about him and his interactions with two certain dumbasses sitting almost finished in my draft doc for months and months and months, so... you're welcome? 2882 words, to help pass the time until the new episode!

You can read it below or on AO3.

---

It's half past eight on a Thursday when Raymond catches sight of them across the bar at South Side Social. He’s there to celebrate his baby sister’s birthday, familial obligation overriding personal preference, but after an hour of politely chatting with her increasingly wasted college friends over obnoxiously rustic-only-because-it’s-trendy food, he’s ready for a break. Catching Tina’s eye, he mimes lightening a cigarette; she raises an eyebrow at him and smirks. She’s a clever kid, his sister – the first in their family to go to college – and she knows him only too well. Knows, for instance, that he gave up smoking years and years ago.

Offering her a rueful grin, he gets up and gets out and spends the next few minutes breathing in Chicago’s poisonous evening air. It’s December, but unusually warm for the season, and somewhere underneath the dusty stink of exhaust fumes and concrete there’s a faint trace of melting snow.

On the way back to the table Raymond stops at the bar to order another beer, and that’s when he spots them, just three feet away. Two men in their mid-twenties, casually dressed and apparently in the middle of a not-very-serious argument, complete with waving hands and mock-scoffs. It takes a moment for the vague feeling of familiarity to click into actual recognition, and when it's does it's not so much their faces as the way they pause to look at each other.

It's not the sort of look you see a lot, especially not in prison.

So, well, he’ll be damned. It’s Milkovich and Gallagher. Cellmates, lovers, and occasionally a goddamn pain in his ass. Released, as improbable as it sounded, within days of each other less than half a year ago, and now laughing over drinks in a half-way decent restaurant in downtown Chicago. It’s not the sort of place he’d expected to find them in – but then again, there’d been a lot of unexpected things about that pair.

Not them hooking up, necessarily, not once they’d ended up sharing a cell; trading sexual favors for protection (whether voluntarily or not) was common enough. Frowned upon in theory, of course, but in practice –

Well. You didn’t have to like it, but it was what it was. Idealism didn’t survive long at Beckham. Raymond himself had never harbored any grand notions about the redemptive potential of his work, but he’d seen his fair share of fresh-faced new CO:s have their illusions crushed after a week or two caught between the often violent offenders who despised them, the indifferent malice of many seasoned CO:s, and the stifling drudgery of the American penal system in general. Not Raymond, though: he did his job, did it well, and went home and didn't spend waste moment of thought on it. You did what you needed to do to pay the bills; no need to dwell on it.

So no, Gallager getting in bed, quite literally, with Milkovich hadn’t been a surprise. The nature of their relationship, though...

Sure, it wasn’t unheard of for inmates to fall for one another, or for established couples to end up in prison together. Didn’t happen a lot, and actual homosexuality was still more likely to get you beat up than laid, but yeah, it did happen. What, in Raymond’s experience, never happened was having to people look at each other the way Milkovich and Gallagher sometimes did, whenever they thought no one else was watching: there was a kind of wonder to it, both staring at the other like they’ve been handed a goddamn gift and couldn’t quite believe their luck.

Particularly on Milkovich’s face the look was baffling.

Ever since the young man arrived at Beckamn he'd moved down the gray corridors and among the yellow-clad crowds like a man born to it. Raymond supposed he was; his father Terry had spent much of his adult life in the very same prison, as had a great many brothers, cousins and assorted associates. Though Raymond didn't know any details, and didn't really care to know them, he'd bet dollars to donuts that Mickey Milkovich's criminal career had had both an early start and a sense of inevitability to it. Various stints in juvie, followed by a real prison sentence for... attempted murder, wasn't it?... followed by a widely publicized jailbreak and an eventual and far less publicized return to Beckman.

Milkovich was tough enough to make others back down when he had to but smart enough not to start any unnecessary fights, not with the other inmates and not with the ones set to watch over them. Knew how to work the system, too: how to get things in, get things done, which guards could be bribed. Raymond didn't play that game himself, but he wasn't getting paid enough not to turn a blind eye when others do. And Milkovich had been pretty smooth about it, especially since his return; careful not to cause a stir.

Gallagher, on the other hand... He'd been the kind of inmate Raymond would've been seriously worried for, had he been inclined to worry and had Milkovich not been there to watch his back and show him the ropes. Not because Gallagher struck Raymond as even remotely helpless, but he so very obviously did not belong in prison, and so very obviously did not really have a clue about what was what in here. The nastier inmates would have eaten him alive long before he'd had the chance to navigate the intricacies of prison politics and find the friends needed for protection. He'd have ended up someone's bitch, or ended up in the infirmary, or dead.

But he'd ended up with Milkovich, and as unlikely as it had seemed at the time, that had worked out. (There were moments when Raymond wondered about that, wondered about them: apart from the looks, there were little touches, too, casual things that spoke of a familiarity far beyond what they could possibly have developed in their short time in a shared cell.)

That wasn't to say that their relationship had been all rainbows and lollipops, and it sure as hell hadn't been fun for everybody. They’d driven half the cellblock insane sometimes, as well as occasionally one another. Other prisoners had complained about their bickering and their fucking (though never officially complained, because you didn't, not unless you wanted to go looking for your teeth in the shower drain), and Raymond recalled vividly the time when not one but both of them had gotten roped into Chester Russom’s endless quest to spend the rest of his life behind bars –

He'd been passing by the infirmary when he'd heard the screaming and come running. Hadn't been surprised, exactly, to find what he found, but that didn't lessen the urge to smack both Milkovich and Gallagher on the head for being so damned stupid.

Neither of them had seemed particularly concerned about getting caught stabbing another inmate. In fact, they'd fallen over themselves to take the blame, which Raymond might have taken as an unselfish attempt to save the other – if he'd been a complete idiot and if the two of them hadn't been sniping at each other all the way from the infirmary, to the point where he felt like his head would explode.

“Imma murder you two if you don't stop talking,” he said, glaring at them as they sat chained outside the small office. Thankfully, they did stop, looking neither at him nor at each other.

Raymond waited for a moment, deliberating.

“What did Chester promise you?” he eventually asked. Gallagher might have agreed to help the old man out of the goodness of his heart, but Milkovich sure as hell hadn't.

Neither man answered. They were studiously avoiding looking at each other.

“You're not going anywhere until you tell me,” Raymond warned them. “If I have to leave your sorry asses chained to this bench all night that's no skin off my back.”

“We needed a break,” Gallagher offered eventually, reluctantly. Milkovich gave a little snort at that, but – wisely – kept his mouth shut. “So we thought that if one of us got sent to solitary... “ He trailed off, shrugging half-heartedly.

Oh, for the love of God - ! “Why did both of you have to stab him if the goal was to get one of you to solitary?”

Again, there was a protracted silence, and somewhere in it – in their earlier insistence that each of them had been the first to stick the shiv into Chester – Raymond could just about make out the shape of it.

“You are both idiots,” he said, moving to uncuff them from the bench, making a decision. “Come on, let's go.”

“Wait,” Gallagher said, not rising. “You're not reporting us? What about solitary?””

“You don't get a damn reward for stabbing someone, so no, you're not going into solitary, you're going straight back to your cell – where you will hand over all contraband you've hidden there.”

“Now, wait a minute – “ Milkovich began, but he faltered when Raymond fixed him with a hard stare.

Raymond had no illusions about intimidating this particular inmate, but Milkovich really did know how this worked; knew better than to ever be friendly with a guard, not even the ones he bribed – but knew when not to push too.

He had kept their hands cuffed for the walk back to the cell, which was policy, but was him making a point too. While there were extenuating circumstances – primarily the fact that Chester had asked them to stab him – by all rights they should be going down for this, and Raymond wasn’t one hundred percent sure why he wasn't letting them. Save himself the paperwork? Yeah, sure. Why not? As good a reason as any.

“Now, am I going to have to search the cell or will you give it up voluntarily?” he asked once they'd made it to the cell. “You make me look, I won't be too careful with your shit.”

A lot of the guards would be deliberately careless when they tossd a cell, either to prove a point or just for the hell of it. Raymond usually didn't bother with that sort of power trip bullshit, but he was prepared to make an exception if these morons proved stupid enough to give him any more trouble. He was already cutting them considerable slack here, and neither of them have the brains to appreciate it.

They had shared a look, and then Milkovich gave an imperceptible nod. Without a word they set to bring forth an array of cigarettes and foodstuff, little things that would have been commonplace and unremarkable in the real world but was made precious by its scarcity on the inside.

Raymond wasn't naive enough to believe they actually gave him everything they'd got in there, but enough of it to inconvenience them, which would have to do. He grabbed the the items, then fixed them both with a firm look.

“Either of you cause me any more trouble, I'm taking your books,” – he pointed to Gallager, then to Milkovich – “and your pens and paper. You think you have it bad now? Imagine sharing a cell and having nothing else to occupy you.”

He had hoped to God he wouldn't have to make good on his threat, though. The other prisoners would probably riot if they have to put up with more of ´bickering from these two.

“I catch either of you with a shiv again, you'll be fucking sorry,” he continued. “Talk it out, or agree not to talk, or whatever. Split the cell into his and his, I don't give a damn. But sort your shit out.”

Maybe they had, maybe they hadn't; the point became moot just a few weeks later, when Gallagher was released. Milkovich had soon followed him – and how exactly that had happened, Raymond still didn't know, because there was no way in hell anyone actually thought releasing that one back into society was a great move – and that had been that. For now, at least; he fully expected to see Milkovich again. Guy like that wasn't going to quit, and sooner or later he'd get caught and find himself back behind bars. Rinse repeat, until he got himself killed or locked away for good.

Only now here Milkovich is, but in front of a bar rather than behind them, and with Gallagher right by his side, laughing like they'd never stabbed a man just to get away from each other.

Raymond hesitates. There's some small part of him that actually wants to step up and say hello, and that throws him a little. He's got a rule about never getting emotionally invested in the fates of the inmates; that way lies nothing but heartbreak, because most of those who find themselves at Beckman will find themselves there again and again, for longer and longer. Don't abuse the prisoners, but don't care too much either: it's been Raymond's private policy for the past five years, and it's worked out so far.

Except now he's actually considering chatting with a couple of convicts, just 'cause he really is a little bit curious about how this unlikely pair is doing.

But nah. Forget it. His rule aside, it'd be pretty uncool to intrude on their evening out. They're free men now – kind of – and having a CO check up on them can't be high on their list of wants. But before he can move away, they both look his way; sees him. Recognizes him, too, from the way they freeze.

Okay. Call it fate, then. “Hello,” Raymond says, going for neutral good and a little nod; I come in peace.

A beat. Milkovich is eyeing him with a wariness he doesn't bother to conceal and it's Gallagher who speaks first:

“Officer Reese,” he says, managing a polite smile. “Hi.”

Raymond notices the way they glance down at the beers they technically shouldn't be having.

“I'm not your PO,” he assures them. “I don't give a damn if you drink. Might want to take it easy, though,” he can’t help but add. “Getting shitfaced is a quick way to get into trouble.”

Milkovich opens his mouth, but after a quick glare from Gallagher he closes it again. Probably for the best; Raymond can’t imagine him playing even remotely nice now that he doesn’t have to.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt your evening,” he says. “Looks like you’re doing all right.”

“Yeah, yeah, we've got jobs and... “ Gallagher pauses to glance at Milkovich again, as if asking his permission. Milkovich rolls his eyes but says nothing, and Gallagher turns his gaze back to Raymond. There's a real smile on his face now, small, but filled with something akin to disbelieving delight: “We got married. Couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh, wow. Congratulations.” Raymond isn’t quite sure what surprises him more: the fact of their marriage, or the fact that he is genuinely happy for them. Maybe he’s getting soft in his old age… Or maybe it’s just that there’s so very few happy endings for those who find themselves at Beckman, whether as inmates or as guards, that they need to be treasured whenever you find them.

“Ian!” someone calls across the room, and Gallagher turns his head to look at a blonde woman gesturing wildly. “Where are those drinks?”

“Shit,” Gallagher mutters. “Better get this to Tami before she has a fit.”

Another smile, and Gallagher is gone. Milkovich, however, lingers, seemingly debating whether to say something more. Curious against his will, Raymond does his best to look approachable. Evidently, it works, because Milkovich clears his throat:

“You’d reported us when we stabbed that old fucker in the infirmary, Ian wouldn’t have gotten his release.” He pauses, looking uncomfortable, then forces out: “Appreciate it.”

Raymond merely nods. Maybe he should say something about being glad taking a chance on them had paid off, that he is glad to see them doing well – but he’s pretty sure Milkovich wouldn’t much appreciate the sentiment.

“Your boy doesn’t belong in prison,” he says instead.

Milkovich face immediately collapses into a scowl. “Well, I didn't fucking put him there,” he growls.

But Raymond isn’t intimated; just hold his gaze. “Gonna keep him out of trouble then?” Gonna stay out of trouble, he doesn’t ask, but Milkovich isn’t stupid, so he'll hear it all the same.

Milkovich still glares, but something in his eyes seem to soften ever so slightly. “You betcha. Won’t have anything on us ever again,” he promises ambiguously, with a cocky grin and one eyebrow raised.

When he walks away, swagger in every step, he is every bit the unrepentant gangster – but Raymond keeps his eyes on him and sees the way he relaxes as soon as he stops next to Gallagher. Reaches out to touch him lightly on the arm, catching his eye. That same wondering smile on both of their faces.

Raymond thinks that maybe he won't actually see either of them again.

He is glad of it.

#gallavich #fic #my stuff

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