#i fully believed for 1 second that i was about to drove off the world into the void

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Robotic Workers to Soldiers

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Taken from the biography “The Fall of Dijballer” written by Uguntus Val

 Breaking a human is easy.

They have no armored exoskeleton, no reinforced scaled skin, not even an enhanced healing metabolism; it is an amazing feat that they have been able to survive on their own planet let alone survive the rigors of space travel.

They are weak and frail creatures of flesh and blood.  One could push them down a simple slope and there was a high chance they could break their arm.

We expected a war with them to be swift and merciless.

Our forces would descend upon their worlds like the waves a ravaging storm and sweep them clean away as we added their colonies to our domain, and continue the glorious expansion of our race. Yet for all our knowledge of human biology we failed to grasp the critical flaw in our plans and strategies until it was too late. The simple truth that could have changed the fate of the war in our favor had we learned it earlier on.

Humans were well aware of their frailty, and they adapted accordingly.

On the colony world of Dijballer we made our first strike. It was a temperate world perfectly designed for year-long farming and capable of sustaining a constant stream of crops to feed a dozen empires when fully developed.

The colony had only been on the planet for ten years and was centered around the initial landing site of the colony ship. A compact industrial center had formed to support the growing colony and several companies had established facilities to support the colony, including several robotics factories that supplied a majority of the work force. What made it even more tempting of a target was that by all accounts it lacked a sufficient military presence, only housing a token police force to maintain order.  

When the war began three legions were dispatched to secure the planet. The twelfth, the third, and the honored first legion that had been present at the beginning of every major war our people had ever fought.

They made planet fall just outside of the main settlement and began steadily advancing through the fields of crops, passing dozens of robotic workers mindlessly going about their work as if the thousands of alien soldiers marching passed was a normal occurrence. The machines were humanoid in shape with two arms and legs, often either using farming tools or manning heavy equipment.

Roughly ten miles outside of the city did we first encounter resistance. We were now in the center of the fields when the rear of the column reported they were under attack. A massive harvester had diverted its course and rammed a troop transport flipping it over. The surrounding infantry opened fire on the vehicle as it attempted to ram a second vehicle. Not being built for military use the vehicle quickly broke down and exploded in a shower of shrapnel and fire, setting several stalks of nearby crops on fire. It was here that the order to halt was given and the column began to reorganize. It was as the Privants were giving orders that the second attack began.

Thousands of farming units sprang out of the stalks on either side of the column like predators of old. In their hands were nothing but farming tools and yet they moved with unnatural swiftness. Before anyone could fire a shot they were among our ranks hacking and slashing us to pieces.

I’ve hear over the years how our soldiers were mocked. How pundits and politicians question how a fully armored legionnaire could be brought down by nothing but farming tools.

Were any of them to say that to my face I would smash their face in; for none of them were there to see what those machines could do.    

They dove and shifted to either side like a blade of grass in the wind. I saw my captain unload an entire clip on full auto at one and it casually darted to either side as if it was nothing but rain as it closed the distance.

When it was within arm’s reach it grabbed it’s scythe and drove it deep into the neck joints of the captain’s armor. The captain barely had time to swat away the metal scythe but the robot merely took its fingered hand and drove it into the unarmored joint itself.

I could hear the captain gurgling blood over the communications net as the robotic monster pulled its hand out of his throat, covered in blood and gore, and stabbed it in again and again and again.

While it was distracted goring my captain I brought my rifle up and brought the monster down with a single shot to the chest. The robot sparked and fizzled as it toppled over, its hand still embedded in the captain as it dragged his lifeless body down with him. I had little time to grieve for my captains death as another trio of farmer units rushed from the stalks at me.

All around me was sheer chaos as the robots swarmed over us like insects. Their fragile bodies meant nothing when their speed and enhanced reflexes made them near impossible to hit.

They knew were the weak spots in our armor were, they were capable of calculating the angle of fire from our weapons, they even somehow knew our ranking system and made sure to target our officers first.

The three that came at me lunged for me to close the distance and that was the only was the only thing that saved me that day. On the ground they could easily dodge side to side but midair they were cut off from that level of maneuverability.

I easily trained my gun and sprayed the machines with a full mag from my repeater rifle. The white fragments of their shells harmlessly bounced off my armor as their broken bodies crumpled before me. I barely had a moment to enjoy my victory before another massive harvester machine drove through our column.

Several of my comrades weren’t fast enough to get out of the way and were swallowed by those rotating blades of death. I heard their screams echoing on the communications net just as I had the captain and then they were cut off in an instant by a blood curdling crunch.

After that it was chaos.

Soldiers fought in tight circles or back to back with comrades as they fought off waves of robots. This went on for hours but to me, in those panic filled moments of terror, it felt like an eternity.

By nightfall the entire field was ablaze with fire just as the robots ceased their attacks. We gathered what remained of our dead and wounded and took stock of the situation.

Thousands of broken robot bodies lay strewn across the ground like discarded dolls, and the burning husks of the larger harvesters cast gloomy shadows dancing in the firelight. We had been out numbered a 3-1 and still managed to survive, and yet the victory was hollow to the core.

The twelfth legion was cut in half and lost the majority of their vehicles during the opening attacks, the third was at a quarter strength and had lost all of their officers, but worst yet was the honored first legion. The pride of several centuries of warfare, the first legion had been entirely wiped out at the front of the column. Their pride denying them anything other than a death on the battlefield as they refused to regroup with the other legions.

What remained of the officers of the twelfth legion was split between retreating to the initial landing zones or to continue with the assault. Only after the fighting had stopped was communication with orbital command reestablished, and the commanders in orbit almost couldn’t believe what had happened.

The twelfth officers requested an additional five legions be deployed to the planet and that the authorization of aerial bombardments. Debate between the twelfth and orbital lasted about an hour before the robots returned.

First signs of danger were the screams and weapons fire of sentries posted around the surviving column. Robots that had been laying on the ground thought destroyed rose back to their feet and attacked wandering soldiers.

The fear and terror spread throughout the survivors as everyone capable grabbed a weapon and began firing at the robots once more. In the confusion several soldiers fell to friendly fire as several panic stricken legionnaires opened fire on full auto blindly.

At the end of that night the third legion was almost entirely wiped out and the new rule of fully destroying the head and body of all machines became mandatory.

The war pressed on for another four months before we finally claimed the world.

All it had cost us was nearly four entire legions against an army of farming units.

The disgrace felt by the military was overwhelming and morale never recovered for the remained of the conflict. What’s worse was that throughout those four months the primary factories nestled beneath the primary settlement had been continuously producing more and more robots. What should have been a simple easy victory devolved into a grueling war of attrition.

When we finally stormed the office of the robotic factories we were able to download files from their mainframe and the horrid truth was realized.

Embedded into every robot humanity produced, regardless of their function, was a sub routine dictating military tactics, strategies, and combat methods. A maid unit designed for cleaning could be switched over in an instant to become a skilled sniper marksman with years of training with a kill count of triple digits.

For all of their frailty the humans had not lost the ability for death and destruction. They had imparted it into every machine in their service effectively creating an army of billions skilled in the art of death.

After the war was over I went out of my way to order one such unit to tend to me in my home.

I often wonder, as it goes about its cleaning work, that if I activated its military mode if I would be capable of taking it; though I doubt I can in my age now.

Instead it serves as a constant remind that one should never underestimate the nature of a being. No matter how delicate and frail it may appear, it may be hiding a dagger aimed straight at your throat.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #action #robots

[boldlyvoid]

Hypothetically | Chapter 21-24

Summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast. friends to lovers, case of the week style story.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

A/N; thee case in c21 is personal to me, like fictional revenge.

word count so far: 70K (chapter 1-25)

chapter 21

Having Spencer all to herself for 3 weeks straight was an experience she’ll never forget. They had the whole month of January off together, painting and re-decorating their home till it was exactly how they wanted it. It felt like home, it was theirs for real now.

Painting the bedroom green was the best idea she’s ever had. When the sun finally woke them up every morning, it wasn’t as blinding. It was paradise. The golden beams of light cast a beautiful glow around the room, it was like she was in a magic forest at the start of every day.

Spencer was laying on his back, his hair scattered on the pillow. He looked so peaceful, sleeping with his mouth wide open. Y/N was leaning on her elbow, looking down at the beautiful man she had the pleasure of spending the rest of her life with.

She brushed the hair off his face, watching his nose scrunch up as he felt her fingertips on his cheek. The sun on his face made him glow, he looked like a gift from god laying before her.

“Good morning baby,” she whispered softly. Dragging her finger along his jaw and down his neck, “we get to go to work today.”

Spencer stretched as he woke up, slipping an arm under her and pulling her into his chest. She held on tight, kissing his neck as she settled in. “Morning,” he replied. Raspy as ever.

“Wanna go get breakfast?” She asked softly.

He laughed against her skin, “gotta feed the baby.”

“And the wiiiife,” she teased.

“Not for another 11 weeks and 2 days,” he corrected her. “But yes, we should go get breakfast,” he whispered after a moment.

“Come on get up,” she replied with a big smile. He patted her ass as she peeled out of his grasp. Sitting up and stretching, taking a look down at the basketball protruding from her stomach. “Damn.”

“What?” Spencer asked.

She stood up beside the bed and pulled her shirt up, showing Spencer how big her stomach was. Turning sideways so he really got a good look at it. Spencer leaned over and kissed her right on her belly button that was beginning to pop.

“I know your ears are on in there, I love you, Matthew,” Spencer whispered against her skin.

She couldn’t stop smiling, taking a moment to rub her hands over the bump in amazement. “Hi Mr. Matty MaGoo, mommy also loves you.”

“Mr. Matty MaGoo?” Spencer laughed, looking at her with the biggest smile.

“Yes,” She laughed. “It just came to me, and it's going to stick.”

“Derek’s been calling him Mini G,” Spencer added.

“We should tell him it's Matthew, then he can be little Matty G,” Y/N swooned. “Seriously let’s go I miss everyone.”

“Okay, okay go get ready then,” he insisted, getting out of bed and dragging her to the bathroom.

—

Spencer drove, giving her a chance to look over her work emails before the day started. She was still CC’d on a bunch of VICAP things, being able to snoop on what was coming in and inspecting it.

Sometimes Mindy would CC her in just for an opinion.

Subject: Found Something. From; Mindy Patel To; SSA Y/N Y/L/N, Unit Chief SSA Aaron Hotchner, SSA-CL Jennifer Jareau

There’s been a child abduction in Arizona, I’ve pieced together some thing’s I’ve been working on in the background that might help the case if you are called in to assist. Even if you are not I believe you should take a look at this.

Mindy Patel, VICAP.

Attachment

Year: 1998 Victim 1: Emily Lawrence - 13. Kept till 16. Taken: August 3rd, 1998. Williams, AZ Found: June 10th, 2001. Camp Verde, AZ ME: decay has he placed at 48 hours postmortem when she was found - strangled, sexually assaulted long term, extensive throat damage. Never been pregnant. - COD: asphyxiation Info: good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped without care.

Year: 2001 Victim 2: Olivia Tomms - 13. Kept till 16 Taken: August 3rd, 2001. Payson, AZ Found: June 23rd, 2004. Florence, AZ ME: decay has her at about 2 weeks postmortem. - strangled, sexually assaulted long term, extensive throat damage. Never been pregnant. - COD: asphyxiation Info: good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped without care.

Year: 2004 Victim 3: Shelby Summers - 13. Kept till 16. Taken: August 3rd, 2004. Peach Springs, AZ Found: July 16th, 2007. Keams, AZ ME: decay has her at over a month postmortem. - strangled, sexually assaulted long term, extensive throat damage. Never been pregnant. - COD: asphyxiation Info: good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped without care.

Year: 2007 Victim 4: Beth Green - 11. Kept till 13 Taken: August 3rd, 2007. Saint John, AZ Found: January 13th, 2010. @ flagstaff hospital. ME: COD complications from a miscarriage. Massive blood loss. - well taken care of. Throat damage. Signs of being detained long term. Info:good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped with remorse like he didn’t want her to die, and he felt sorry because he loved her.

Newest abduction: Name: Sally Irvine - 12 Taken: February 3rd, 3pm. Middle School pick-up (missing 13 hours now) Witness Report: Italian/greek man. Early 30’s. Claimed to be her parents assistant. Sally was used to going home with random people from her parents' work. Handsome man, very charming and convincing. He wore a suit and drove a Silver Honda Civic. Rust at the back, partial plate HC8.

“Fuck,” Y/N cried silently as she scrolled through all the information, even in a compact form.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked, looking over at her with concern.

“Um,” she didn’t really know why she was reacting like this at first. Then it hit her. “Mindy sent me a case and it’s hitting a little too close to home.”

“Would you like to explain it yet? It’s okay if you want to process it alone,” Spencer comforted her easily like it was his second nature.

She let out a deep breath. “There’s a serial killer in Arizona that is kidnapping girls between 11 and 13, only keeping them 3 years. Every ME report says they have extensive internal throat damage, and 3 of the 4 found were never pregnant. This unsub is forcing them into oral for 3 years straight.”

“Fuck,” Spencer agreed. “I think we should take this one, if you can’t I would fully understand.”

“I think the unsub is my rapist.”

Spencer pulled over onto the side of the road. Putting the car in park and flashing the 4-ways. He turned to her softly and looked at her with a blank face.

“Walk me through it.”

“What?”

“If I’m going to go in there with you and tell Hotch that this is the same guy who hurt you, then you’re going to need to explain it to him and the team,” Spencer explained softly. “You’ve never even told me the full story, I don’t know anything about that summer other than the fact something happened. The first time you repeat this in front of me is going to be hard, and I don’t want you to have to do that in front of all of them.”

She couldn’t help herself from letting out a small sob, “okay.”

She took a few minutes to collect her thoughts, and calm down enough to get full words out of her mouth.

“When I was 12,” she started. “My mom went back to work, and she didn’t trust me to watch my brothers because they were rowdy and never listened to me. Like you said, they were more like my older brothers.

“My dad’s best friend, Jimmy, his wife had MS so she was home all the time. They had 3 older children and a few foster boys, she was used to lots of kids being there. And she had a pool to keep us occupied,” she bit her lip before she explained anymore.

“My mom’s birthday is June 8th. That’s when victim 1 was murdered,” was the first fact she explained that related to the case. She handed Spencer her phone so he could read and follow along.

“My dad is a Mason with the Masonic Lodge in Los Vegas, and he was becoming the master of his division on my mom's birthday that year, so we rented a hall and had a big party. Jimmy’s foster son was there, you remember Christopher Torsey? He was a freshman and I was in grade 6, about to enter grade 7, that was when the grooming started. He took me into the back room and asked if anyone had ever kissed me, I said no. He leaned in and kissed me in the dark and I was a giggly mess.

“My parents and his were really friends and he would come over all the time, our dads would drink in the backyard with our mothers till 1 in the morning most weekends. So I spent long periods of time with this boy for a few years, trusting him like a friend before he started anything. That summer he would always find a way to wander off with me, at first it was just kissing in different places where we could be alone together. Then he would touch my boobs, and he had me take my shirt off a few times.”

Spencer looked calm, but the redness in his face and the pulse in his neck told a different story. Her breathing got heavier as she had to recall it all, and she didn’t want him to be so upset.

“We worked at a local church camp together that July, we’d do crafts and sing songs and after all the kids left and we had to clean up, he’d find a way to take me to the room where they held the nativity scene out of season. He’d start kissing and touching me like normal, and then Kendra walked in once and saw and suddenly he went from obsessed with me, to disgusted, saying I came on to him and that it was all me. He was disgusted by me when we were in public, but he loved me apparently behind closed doors.”

“On August 3rd,” a tear slipped down her cheek. “The day the girls go missing. That was the first time he took me back to the shed and said ‘when two people are in love, they do things, and I love you. So you have to,’ He took his, you know, and I’d never seen one before. It was scary and I didn’t want to, I wanted to leave, but he pushed me against the wall and down to my knees.” She had to stop to take a breath, Spencer was crying silently as he watched her explain it all.

“He kept me trapped there while he did it,” she explained. “The worst part is that his parents were hosting a wedding that night, so no one could hear me basically screaming no over the music. He knew that. And so, when I complained about the sore throat the next day, my parents thought it was from all the singing.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, he looked at her with so much love and sadness, she knew he loved her. She reached across the centre console and wiped the tears off his face, pecking his lips softly before sitting back to continue.

“The dates match up, he was Italian, they’re all 11-13 with throat damage,” she ran it down. “It’s him.”

Spencer licked his lips, wiping the tears off his face before taking a deep breath. “Okay, let’s go tell Hotch.”

Aaron stood up from his desk after Y/N explained the situation, walking up close to her with a sad smile on his face, “this was a very hard thing to come forward with. How would you like to participate in the investigation?” He was soft with her for the first time, it was surreal.

“Um, I’d like to come with you to Arizona,” she said softly. “when Garcia finds him, I’d like to be the one to interview him.”

“Do you think that is a wise idea?” He asked softly.

“When I was 16, years after everything happened. I went to Jimmy’s house for an event, and Christopher was there, and I went to his room. I was so desperate for the bullying to stop. For the lies, he had told about me to go away, that I went in there and apologized to him,” her voice almost disappeared as she got to the end of the sentence. Crying in disbelief. “2 years later he started abducting. I apologized to my rapist and he started kidnapping girls. I need to look him in the eyes and find out why he did it.”

“Okay, let’s tell the team.”

Y/N and Garcia spent an hour building the case files and compiling all the data they had on Christopher Torsey. Joining the team in the briefing room, where Spencer had already relayed the events to the team. Y/N didn’t need to describe it all 3 times in 2 hours.

She passed all the folders out, trying to avoid the looks the team gave her. They were sorry, they respected her, they wanted revenge for her. She knew it all came from a place of love, however, she hated being perceived by others.

It was a trauma thing. For so long people had the wrong idea about her, she was bullied and put down, and hated for no reason. She hates any form of attention, the glances and staring, the whispers of rumours being told as fact. It was stressful.

“Before we start,” she started softly. “Thank you in advance for your concerns, but I’ve been in therapy for 10 years. I’m very happy, this is gonna fuckin’ suck, but at the end of the day I’m coming home to a man who loves me, a baby on the way, and the best friends I can ask for. He’s going to prison. I win.”

Derek smiled at her, “that’s my girl. What did you find?”

“Christopher Torsey was born in November of 1979. His father was extremely abusive, he was in the ER a lot by the time he was 11. His mother killed herself in front of him when he was 12, he also watched his father rape his mother according to his child therapist,” Garcia started. Not knowing how to say the next part without Y/N crying.

“He uh, he said that his dad would tell his mom to be quiet. That-uh, I’m sorry, shouldn’t you say this?”

Y/N stepped in without a second thought. “He said that his father would hold the fact that he loved her over her head to force her into having sex with him. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“He’s our guy for sure. Do we have an address?” Prentiss asked.

“Yeah, he lives in a double-wide trailer in Cottonwood. Near the back with his own access to the main road,” Y/N explained. “I knew he moved to Arizona when Jimmy finally kicked him out. I haven’t heard from him in years.”

“Y/N is coming with us, wheels up in 20.”

—

Cottonwood PD waited for them to arrive before apprehending him. They were concerned that he would run, with his access to the woods and a four-wheeler in his possession, it was a matter of boxing him in quietly with a backup plan in place and men on the ground.

“Can I suggest something?” Y/N cut into the Police Chief and Hotch’s conversation.

“Sure.”

“Um, what if I walk up in our civilian clothes, and just pretend that we’re there to rub it in his face that I'm happy and in love,” Y/N suggested. “I can wear a wire, you can be in a surveillance van listening in. You’ll be right there if we see Sally or sense something’s up.”

“Are you sure you can do that?” Hotch asked her.

“I am,” she turned to Spencer, “if you can control your temper you can come. If not, I’ll show up with Derek and still rub it in his face that someone loves me now.”

Spencer sighed deeply as he contemplated it. “I’ll kill him,” he admitted. “Take Derek.”

“Let’s get suited up,” Derek patted Spencer’s shoulder. “I won’t let him hurt her again. Don’t worry.”

“I know.” Spencer looked disappointed.

Everyone left the room, leaving Spencer and Y/N alone. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug resting her face against his chest. He softly held her in return, rubbing his hands along her back with his cheek on her head.

“I love you, forever and always,” She reminded him. “And I know how much you love me, believe me. I wouldn’t have been able to do this if I didn’t truly believe Chris was wrong.”

She pulled back when she felt a tear on her head. She wiped it softly with her thumb as he leaned his cheek into her palm. “I am loveable, and you love me. I win.”

He laughed softly, “I won too.”

She pulled him into a soft kiss, “I’ll be back in your arms soon.”

“I’ll be in the van watching the whole time, I love you so much,” he added for good measure.

She smiled as she walked away, throwing a fist in the air like the end of the breakfast club. Knowing full well he’d never get the reference. JJ on the other hand, laughed as she followed with Spencer.

They changed into regular clothes, getting in a car from the impound lot and following the surveillance van. Morgan was quiet, Y/N knew he wanted to talk to her, to go over the plan, but he didn’t know how to. The wire wouldn’t be on till they walked out, giving Y/N and Derek their privacy if he ever chose to speak.

“Did you ever confront your guy?” Y/N asked.

He nodded, “Carl Buford. I got to show him who I am now, that I put men like him behind bars. That I’ll always win.”

“Is it a good feeling?”

Derek set his hand palm up on the centre console, looking at her softly as if to ask her to take it. She interlocked their fingers, he rubbed his thumb against her skin.

“You’re right, it fucking sucks. The original pain never goes away, but there is a content feeling knowing he won’t get to hurt another person, that he might get his ass kicked in prison,” he smiled that beautiful Derek smile. “I’ll always be here for when you need someone who gets it.”

“Thank you,” she smiled.

They pulled into the trailer park slowly, separating from the team as they approached Christopher’s trailer. “Just pretend you’re Spencer, treat me the way he would. I know Spencer tells you everything, go off of memory of what he’s said about me.”

“You know he tells me everything?” Derek asked softly, laughing a little to himself.

“Because he also tells me everything,” she smirked. “When he’s tired and he rambles, he tells me about his whole day and that includes when he asks you for advice.”

“You two are gross,” he smiled. “I hope I can replicate it.”

“Come on,” she laughed, getting out of the car and waiting for Derek at the hood.

She took his hand before walking up to the door, a hand on her belly to make it look bigger. Really wanting to show off that she was in a better place than he was.

She knocked, 3 times, stepping back so he could open the door. She didn’t feel scared, she felt anxious in excitement to watch Derek take him to the floor.

“Y/N?” She heard his voice for the first time in 13 years. “What are you doing here?”

“My therapist suggested that I come here and show you someone actually did end up loving me, regardless of what you said,” she explained.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he panicked, flashing his eyes back and forth between her and Derek.

“I can come in and explain it for you if you’d like?” Y/N smiled. “You’ve got nothing to hide I assume? I’m just wildly obsessed with you and a liar right? That’s what you told everyone so I wouldn’t be able to say you forced my head on your dick with the promise that you loved me.”

“I- I uh,” he stuttered. Starting to shake lightly.

“That’s what you do to all the girls, isn’t it, Chris?” Derek cut in, pulling the screen door open and watching as Christopher ran to the back of the house. “We got a runner!!” He announced to the wire.

Y/N didn’t run after him, she knew the team had him. She walked through the house to watch from the back door. Only to find Spencer stiff-arming him.

Christopher flipped over Spencer’s arm, hitting the ground before Spencer was on top of him. Spencer punched him in the face, once, twice, three times before he stopped. Sitting over the unconscious man as he caught his breath. Everyone just watched him. He rolled Christopher over, cuffed him and walked away into the woods.

Y/N carefully jogged into the yard, passing the bleeding and groaning asshole she used to know as she ran after Spencer. He was walking too fast, and he didn’t look like he was going to stop.

“Spencer Walter Reid!” She yelled at him as if she was his mother. “Stop.”

He stopped abruptly, huffing as he did so. He only turned around to face her when she finally caught up to him. “Don’t touch me yet,” he instructed her.

“Okay,” she stopped a foot in front of him. “Look at me, breathe. In and out.” She used her hands as she motioned a breath in, and a release out. She repeated it 4 times, watching him do the same.

“Can I hug you now?” She asked softly.

He nodded, stepping into her space and wrapping himself around her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It was actually really appreciated,” she laughed. “I was debating if having a baby at 22 weeks was worth punching him in the face a few times.”

Spencer laughed softly into her shoulder. Squeezing her in his grasp as he breathed her in. “I love you.”

“I love you, more,” she smiled against his neck before pressing a soft kiss to his ever-beating pulse. “Let’s go see the team, come on.”

Y/N was adamant about searching the trailer with the team. Going to the surveillance van for a vest and gloves while Christopher was taken to the police station, and Spencer had his hand wrapped up.

It still smelled like him in there. The smell of his detergent mixed with smoke from the fireplace. It never changed. She noticed his PlayStation was on, he was still interested in games. He still slept with the brown comforter that was on his bed when she was 12. It was worn down, holes gathered at the bottom as it was almost see-through now.

She opened the closet to see a very large metal safe in its place. She took a deep breath, looking at the keypad to see what numbers had been worn down the most, guessing his password.

0803

It popped open, it made her feel sick to her stomach. As she opened it, she heard the muffled screams behind duck tape. Sally Irvine was tied up, hunched over in a tiny metal box while he played GTA.

She wanted to kill him.

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” she shushed the girl. “Sally, my name is Y/N. We’re here to take you home, you're safe now.”

Y/N took the tape off Sally’s mouth softly, the girl sobbed immediately. Not able to say a single thing as Y/N untied her and held Sally in her arms. Sally hugged her back as tight as she could, sobbing into her shirt as Y/N rocked her back and forth. Crying along with her.

“He did it to me when I was 12 too,” Y/N whispered.

Sally pulled back and looked at her with puffy eyes, “really?” She asked. Her voice low and scratchy.

“JJ can you get some water?” She called behind her. “Yes. I was his first.”

“Y/N,” the girl repeated. “That’s what he called me?”

She couldn’t stop the sick feeling in her gut, “let’s get you out of here.” She changed the topic, helping the little girl to her feet and to an ambulance.

Y/N smiled at her as she dropped her off with the EMTs, walking off into the woods as quickly as she could. She leaned over, holding her own hair back as she threw up on the ground.

She swatted away at the hand rubbing her back suddenly, continuing to hurl in the bushes as she heard them behind her, shushing her. She wiped her hand on her mouth before she calmed herself down.

She sighed and turned around to see Morgan. His arms were open for her to hug him, she buried her face in his chest as she cried. Not able to fully process all the information she just heard.

“Let’s get you home,” Derek whispered. Escorting her back to the car, she was done for the day.

chapter 22

Valentine’s day had come and gone by the time they finished their most recent case. Landing in Quantico very late on the 16th of February. Everyone departed the plane slowly, half asleep after the 3-hour flight.

“Did you guys miss any plans?” Y/N asked JJ and Emily as they walked together.

“Yeah,” Emily sighed, “I uh, I’ve been seeing someone.”

“Since when?” JJ asked, both her and Y/N suddenly not tired at all. They stopped on the tarmac and stared at her.

“Um, a few months now,” She blushed.

“Was this the sin to win weekend?” Y/N asked softly.

Emily nodded, “what’s sin to win?” JJ asked just as quietly.

“It’s a weekend for gay people in Atlantic City,” Emily replied. “It’s an easy way to mingle in a safe space.”

“Oh,” JJ was shocked. “Oh, so you’re, and you too?” She pointed at both of them as the information was processed.

Y/N and Emily smiled at her and laughed. “Bi? Yes,” Y/N replied.

“I’m still not sure,” Emily added. She sighed deeply, shaking her head as she tried to speak again. “I’ve never really enjoyed male company? It feels more like a performance than a relationship.”

“I mean good for you for noticing that now, if it wasn’t for Spencer I’d be in the same boat,” Y/N smirked at her. “He’s more than just a pretty face.”

“Wow,” JJ was shocked. “I would’ve never known.”

Emily placed her hand on JJ’s back, leading her towards the charter back to headquarters, “oh you poor, poor, heterosexual woman.”

“She has a cat, she cuts her bangs when she’s stressed and she bites her fingernails,” Y/N explained to JJ as they picked their seats. “She likes pussy, JJ.”

Emily smacked her arm lightly, all of them laughing hysterically. The boys walked onto the bus to their cackling, desperately wanting to know what was so funny.

“I was just telling them, I met someone and I’d like for you to all meet her soon,” Emily explained to the rest of the team. “I think you’ll really like her.”

“No way,” Derek smiled, high-fiving her. “Congrats dude, welcome to the dark side.”

“You too?” JJ was shocked. “Okay, put your hand up if you’re a straight person,” she stretched her arm into the air. Hotch and Rossi joined her.

“Really?” Spencer and Y/N looked at each other with excitement.

“What the fuck?” JJ was dumbfounded. “How did I not know this?”

“It just never came up before,” Derek shrugged. “Tell us more about this girlfriend of yours, Prentiss.”

“Or,” Y/N cut in. “you could bring her to Vegas in April.”

“Why?” Emily smirked at her.

“If you’re all free on April 23rd,” She teased them along. “Spencer and I would like you to come to our wedding at my parent’s house.”

“Oh!” JJ and Emily freaked, “holy shit!”

“So, you guys are in?” She laughed.

“Yeah!”

For 2 in the morning, the bus was the most excited they had ever been. And Penelope didn’t even join them on this trip. Normally it was her making this kind of excitement, Y/N basked in the happiness that filled the bus.

They discussed little details on the way to their cars, standing in the garage for a good 15 minutes as they planned the dates they’d need to arrange to have off. Hotch knew he could pull some strings to use everyone’s vacation time for a few days.

They exchanged hugs before breaking apart for the night. Planning to return around noon that same day. Giving them a sweet 9 hours of peace and quiet.

“We still need to invite Penelope,” Spencer whispered when they were halfway home. Interrupting the silence that Y/N was enjoying.

Y/N laughed softly, watching him drive with a smile on his face. “I only told the rest of them because Penelope somehow hacked into my calendar app, to plan a baby shower around my schedule, and saw the plans.”

“Of course,” he nodded along.

“So yeah,” she smiled. “She’s told me that she wants to throw me a baby shower/bachelorette party now.”

“That would be nice,” Spencer agreed, squeezing her thigh where his hand was always glued to her.

“If we even get more time off before the wedding, I’m crossing every appendage on my body in the hopes all the psychos take the day off!” She laughed, twisting her arms and legs in a demonstration.

He laughed, leaning against the wheel as he tried to keep his focus on the road. “I love you.”

“You better!” She teased him.

It went quiet again. She could hear the tires on the sandy slush. The grinding of pressure as the snow compressed into the tire tread. Small rocks being flicked up from the wheels, smacking the underbelly of the car as they approached their house.

She sighed as she saw the place, the beautiful green door illuminated by the porch light. Screaming ‘welcome home!’ As they pulled into the parking spot.

Sleep surprisingly came easier to her the more pregnant she got. She was used to laying on her left side now, she actually preferred it, because it means that every morning when she woke up, the sun came in just perfectly to make Spencer glow.

The alarm on Spencer’s table started to beep letting them know it was 10:30. She softly watched him roll over and smacked the machine before turning back to her and closing his eyes once more.

“No.”

She huffed in a silent laugh, getting closer to kiss the tip of his nose. “Time to wake up,” she whispered between kisses spread across his face.

He was trying his best not to smile as she peppered his skin with kisses. Pushing him onto his back so she had more skin to cover. It had been a while since they did anything together.

Between the cases and the baby, and everything Spencer learned about her past trauma. He’s been a little distant, and it was starting to make her worry. Dr. Korrapati promised that this sudden burst of anxiety was normal at this stage of pregnancy. It was what contributed the most to the nesting phase, but it still scared her.

She wanted to kiss him, to run her hand down his chest and palm over his boxers until she couldn’t take it anymore. So she did, just a little more seductively.

She moaned softly as she kissed the patch of skin under his ear and down his neck softly. She dragged her fingers over his skin, looping around his nipple as she sucked on his neck. She lifted her leg lightly over his, trying to get some friction between her legs as she kissed him.

“We should probably just go to work,” Spencer softly interjected.

She sighed, dropping her forehead against his shoulder and letting her shoulders slouch.

“I’m not broken!” She sat straight up as she yelled at him. “Can I please just fuck my boyfriend? I have been horny for Weeks,” she wasn’t sure where the sudden burst of emotion came from.

“Oh,” he sat up too, resting his hand on her back softly. “I didn’t realize you wanted to after everything, and the baby? You’ve had a rough few months.”

She laughed lightly, “Spence, of course I do?”

She looked at him softly, cupping his jaw in her hand. “I’ve had to process my trauma before. Yes, it’s still bothering me, and yes I have new trauma that I need to address with my therapist. But,” she emphasized. “I am a woman with needs, and one of those needs is getting railed before work by Doctor Reid.”

“You’re one hundred percent sure?” Spencer asked again.

She smiled and nodded, pushing him back down against the pillows. She resumed her last position, putting her leg between his so they could grind lightly and make out. “If it gets to be too much, I’ll ask you to stop.”

“Okay,” Spencer looked up at her, brushing her hair behind her ear as she hovered over him. “I love you.”

“Prove it,” she teased him, leaning in and kissing his neck again.

He reached behind her to grab her ass, she had noticed his hands gravitating there more as she gained pregnancy weight. She wasn’t complaining either, the way his hands felt on her skin was glorious.

He was putty in her hands, tilting his head to the side so she could kiss, lick and suck wherever she so pleased. She reached her free hand into his hair while he other kept her steady, in the perfect spot to grind against his boney hip.

He was all gasps and heavy breaths underneath her, she raised her leg lightly dragging it over his hardening erection before putting herself back in place. Just wanting to see how far along he was.

She rolled onto her back then, laying flat, waiting for him. He pushed his underwear to his ankles as he flipped on top of her. She was nothing but giggles as Her Spencer came out to play.

Opening her legs, she greeted him back into her grasp as he hovered over her. Both hands planted against the pillow as he looked down at her. His hair falling into his eyes, she pushed his hair back behind his ears.

“You might need a haircut soon,” she teased him, biting her lip softly.

“Shhh,” he whispered.

She took his right hand from beside her head, gripping him by the wrist and guiding him towards her mouth. Taking his middle and ring finger in, sucking on the digits softly. Making him release a sound she’s never heard before.

She looped her tongue around his fingers, spreading them lightly as she licked a stripe through them. Feeling his skin against her teeth, which only seemed to excite him more.

She pulled off with a pop, he looked mesmerized by the trail of spit that connected her bottom lip to his wet fingers. “Fuck,” he gasped as his breathing hitched.

“You know where to put them,” she whispered up at him, staring into his eyes as she bit her lip.

He kissed her quickly, pulling her forward so he could get the t-shirt she was still wearing off her body, throwing it off the bed as he kissed her neck, sucking a mark into the skin as he pushed his hand into her panties.

“Jesus,” he whispered against her neck as he felt how wet she was. “You weren’t kidding.”

Making her twitch slightly as he used the two fingers that were just in her mouth, to drag up and down on her clit. Rubbing it back and forth between the two knuckles.

“Fuck,” she breathed out as she gripped his hair. Palming his scalp while he kept kissing her neck.

She could feel him grinding against the bed as he kissed her, moaning against the space under her ear as he quickened his finger movements.

“I need you to fuck me, like yesterday,” she panted against his mouth, licking his bottom lip after.

He pulled away from her then, lifting her hips to drag her panties down. Keeping them on one of her ankles as he gripped the base of his cock and sat on his knees.

The sight between her legs was phenomenal. The glow of the sun on the lake through the windows as Spencer stroked himself in front of her.

Suddenly, he took both of her knees in his hands. Pushing them to her chest slightly before flipping her over. Extending her hips as he held her ass up. Kissing each cheek softly before straightening his posture.

“Ready?” He asked, she wasn’t expecting it.

Her face pressed into the pillow as she tried to find the best position to support herself. Pushing her hips back in a silent yes. He understood her body language, lining himself up with her and slowly pushing in.

She pushed back against him as well, moaning as she took all of him. “Finally,” she sighed, wiggling against his hips.

He gripped her hips, pushing her off abruptly before slamming back in. She was shocked, letting out a gasped moan as he fucked into her. Taking the instructions too literally, railing her.

She had never been that loud before in her life. Concerned Rossi would be able to hear them from across the lake, but it didn’t stop her. Only enticing him to keep it up.

She pressed her face into the pillow more as she attempted to reach her clit. She couldn’t, “fuck, Spence?”

“Yeah?” He slowed.

She took his hand off her hip, “can’t reach.” Her breath was erratic as she tried to explain.

“Aw poor bunny,” he teased her, slowing to a grind as his fingers ghosted over her clit. “Can’t get yourself off anymore?”

“Please daddy?” She let it slip, feeling his cock twitch inside of her as she did.

He leaned forward, kissing her shoulder softly. “Tell daddy what you want, use your big girl words.”

She pushed back against him, raising herself from the pillow to look over her shoulder at him. “I was going to say breed me, daddy.” She teased, watching his entire personality change. “But it looks like you already did.”

He licked his lips, pushing his hair out of his face as he shook his head at her. “You’re going to regret that.”

She pressed her face back into the pillow and perched her ass back more, ever the invitation. He ran his hand softly over her asscheek, slapping it before he started to fuck her again, reaching around to rub her clit, like she asked, ever so nicely.

They found their rhythm then, pushing against each other in just the right way. Between her deep breathing and the moans she released, the only other thing she could only hear was the sound of their skin slapping together as Spencer fucked her harder than ever before.

“Fuck, sweet Jesus I love your cock,” she praised him, punching into the pillow as she pushed herself back into him, on all 4’s now.

Using his free hand, he spread his fingers through her hair. Gripping her at the roots and pulling her head back as he slammed into her.

“Yes, daddy,” Y/N panted as she felt herself get closer to the edge. “Right there.”

“Cum for me bunny,” he instructed her, “let me fill your perfect little cunt.”

She came with a shout, pushing back against him as his words pushed her over the edge. Not being able to ever say no to that man, feeling his hips shake as he tried to fuck her through his own orgasm.

He pulled out, flipping her limp body back over so she could lay on her back, releasing the pressure on her stomach. Legs still spread as he observed his handiwork, scooping it up with his fingers and pushing it back inside of her. Making her clench up at the feeling.

“Spence-“

“Too much?” He smirked down at her.

She nodded, catching her breath as he just sat there. Still, on his knees, cock now soft and resting against his leg. She preached herself up on her forearms, shaking her head at him as she bit her lip.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” She asked him.

“I have no idea,” he laughed. “But hypothetically,” he bit his lip and raised his eyebrow. “I wouldn’t mind revisiting that on a later date.”

She laughed, dropping back against the sheets. “Me either.”

—

She waddled from the car to the elevator. A mixture of pregnancy and over-extending her hips, exercising with Spencer. Lamaze class more specifically, if anyone asked.

“I should really start calling you ducky,” Spencer whispered in the elevator.

“I hate you,” she bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

“Really?” He teased her, “because if I recall 27 minutes and 15 seconds ago when you were saying ‘fuck, sweet Jesus, I love your cock,’” he whispered into her ear.

The elevator doors opened as her jaw dropped, “notice how I specified which part, Doctor Reid?” She answered abruptly, walking out towards her coworkers.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” He said as he followed her. Making everyone turn around to see them.

“What’s going on?” Morgan noticed it first.

“Nothing,” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Just correcting the genius.”

“On?” Prentiss pried.

“Well this morning she said and I quote-“

“I will cut your balls off and hang them from the mirror in my car,” she snapped, glaring at him as she pointed her finger in his direction.

“Mama’s got claws,” Morgan laughed at them. “Damn.”

Spencer wrapped his arms around her, kissing her cheek in front of everyone. She turned pink, pretending to be pissed while a smile crept onto her face.

“She loves me,” Spencer smiled, pressing their cheeks together.

“One part, it’s nice to me and doesn’t talk back,” she replied, making everyone laugh as Spencer shook his head.

“Okay, you win,” he put his hands up in surrender as he backed away. Opening the door to the bullpen and disappearing behind his desk.

chapter 23

St. Patrick’s Day was never a holiday that Y/N or Spencer really cared for. Yes, they wore green to work, but other than that they didn’t really see the hype. They were Halloween people.

Will and JJ, on the other hand, went all out.

It was something to do with Will’s love for beer and his frat-boy attitude. Explaining to them that morning in the bullpen that the best parties on his college campus were around St. Patrick’s day and Mardi Gras, making February and March party central in his life.

They walked in with little Henry, decked out in green from head to toe. Green beads around his neck, gold chocolate coins in a basket, and the cutest little shamrock light-up head bopper.

“Look at you!!” Y/N called out to Henry as she walked into the room. Opening her arms up and leaning down to pick him up as he ran into her arms.

“Any Y/N!” Henry called her, not being able to say his T’s yet.

She pressed his tiny cheek against her face as she picked him up and snuggled him against her chest. It was getting harder to pick him up now that she was pregnant but she wasn’t going to miss a Henry snuggle.

“Since when did the FBI consult with leprechauns?” She asked him, booping her nose against him.

“Nooo,” Henry leaned back in her arms, “I’m not a leopard-con,” he tried his best to say the word. Making the team all laugh.

“Well, either way, why’s my favourite little guy here today?”

“Hey?” Spencer complained.

She leaned her elbow into him, “hi unca Spence,” Henry smiled at him. Spencer ran his fingers through Henry’s hair, messing it up under the headband.

“He wanted his godparents to see his outfit before the party at daycare today!” JJ explained with excitement.

Y/N placed him back on his feet, “go on the, show it off!”

He walked around the room, doing a fake model strut as he shook his diapered butt, walking towards the stairs before running back. “Woooow!” Everyone clapped and cheered.

Y/N looked up from Henry’s gaze, seeing Emily in Hotch’s office with a blond woman she didn’t recognize, “what’s going on in there?” She pointed.

“They’ve been in there all morning,” Rossi explained. “I think that’s the girlfriend.”

“How so?” Spencer asked, moving across the room to get a better view through the blinds.

“The way Emily leans against her, hand on her arm like that as she speaks. That’s the same way you and lady boy-wonder act when you’re in there together,” Rossi raised an eyebrow at them.

“Ahh,” Y/N smirked. “I wonder what happened, no one talks to Hotch with the door closed unless they need us to look into something.”

“I’ve gotta go,” Will cut in, scooping Henry up from the carpet with a tight-lipped smile.

“Bye buddy,” Y/N scrunched her nose at him, getting in close to press their noses together. “Have a good day today.”

“Bye, love you,” JJ kissed both her boys and watched them leave the room.

“they’re the best,” Y/N said as she wrapped an arm around JJ.

“Anyone want to go sit and have coffee while we wait for them?” Derek asked prior to a long yawn.

Rossi patted Derek on the back, leading him up the stairs and towards the briefing room. The remaining team members following their lead, discovering fresh donuts and flowers waiting for them.

“A gift for helping in advance, -Noelle” Read the small card on the table.

“Emily’s girlfriend?” JJ pondered, holding the card up and waving it slightly.

“I like her already,” Derek said, kicking his feet back and taking a donut.

Hotch walked in with Emily and Mindy 45 minutes later. Following them was a beautiful blond woman, probably 6’1 even in her flat running shoes. She was wearing cuffed blue skinny jeans and a big Barbie Pink petticoat.

She smiled lightly as she walked in, glueing herself to Emily’s side. “This is Noelle, my partner, Noelle these are my co-workers.”

“Hi!” She waved, “let me guess. Chocolate thunder, Derek Morgan.” She pointed to the nearest person to her.

“Correct,” Derek nodded in her direction.

“You would have to be Penelope Garcia,” she guessed right once again. “Emily was right, your aura is very bright.”

“Oh,” Penelope blushed.

“Y/N and Spencer, she said you’d be basically sitting on top of each other,” making everyone on the team laugh. “JJ, she said you’re like wonder woman, you look more like you could be cast as Super Girl if you ask me.”

JJ blushed, “thank you, Henry would agree.”

“Rossi, I already knew you. I love your books,” she fangirled a little. Something Rossi was incredibly used to.

“Signing hours are from 6-8,” he teased her.

Noelle laughed, her smile wide and toothy. “It’s lovely to meet you all.”

“Noelle has come in today with concerns that local gay men in her circle of friends are going missing. Over the last few holidays, 3 of her friends have disappeared. Dropping all contact after a trip to the bar,” Hotch explained.

“I’m a firefighter,” Noelle explained. “I have a Facebook group of friends who are gay and in the forces in any capacity. Just to let each other know where they’re going, to be safe.”

“Smart system,” Rossi complimented. “But also incredibly easy for someone to pose as trustful to gain access and track them.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Emily’s pressed lip smile portraying just how uncomfortable she was with the situation. “I’ve met our supposed victim number 3. Officer Perry is a great man and we haven’t heard from him since Friday.”

“Where was he going?” Y/N asked.

“He was at the bar with us on Friday for a little, we got a few beers and then he said he was meeting with a guy he met online, he was never big into online dating or even dating in general. He didn’t know how to be an officer and gay at the same time,” Noelle explained the situation fully. “He is one of my best friends, I excused it Saturday when he didn’t call cause I guessed he was having a good time. But when he missed Sunday dinner I knew something was wrong. I begged Emily to let me pitch this to you.”

“I believe you,” Hotch added. “Which is why I’ve asked Mindy Patel from VICAP to join us today.”

Mindy waved, she dressed more like a techie than an agent. Beanie, headphones on her neck and a big black sweater.

“Strauss and I agreed it would be beneficial to have a member of the team solely responsible for going through VICAP coincidences and letting us know. We stumble across too many rare cases thanks to Y/N and Mindy,” Hotch explained. “Mindy Patel is now officially VICAP Liaison. Her office will be across from Garcia’s from now on, she’s going to be our eyes and ears in the missing person world for the time being.”

“I took into account the fact that your friends were all masc for masc, on the police force in some capacity and male obviously,” Mindy explained. “And I found the two men from Valentines Day and New Years, and then more going back every major holiday for the last 2 years as of this St. Patrick’s day.”

“We’ve compiled the data and sent it to Garcia, it’ll be on your tablets shortly,” Hotch confirmed. “I’d like everyone to split up into teams and take an apartment of the most recent 3 victims. Prentiss and Rossi, you get New Years’.”

“Yes sir,” Emily agreed. “Noelle can stay here with Penelope for insight.”

“Yes. Reid, Y/N and Morgan, you’ll take officer Perry’s apartment. It’s the freshest so I need the best eyes.”

“Absolutely,” they replied in unison.

“Myself and JJ are going to the Valentines Day abduction,” check in with Garcia when you need to, fill me in on everything. Good luck.”

—

“Yeah a cop lives here,” Y/N laughed as she searched through the carefully organized home. Combing the place over for the slightest abnormality.

“He definitely wasn’t taken,” Morgan agreed. “He went willingly and never made it home.”

Dust was starting to settle on his possessions. Photos on the wall looked blurry as the sun shined through the windows. It smelled stale, no one had opened the windows in a while and the man who lived here worked out.

His clothing was organized by category. His laundry had 3 separate baskets for darks, lights and colours. Inside his bedside drawers, all his condoms were lined up by type. He was definitely anal about something.

“Guys?” Spencer called from the office.

Morgan and Y/N followed the sound of his voice, seeing him hunched over an iMac. “I moved the mouse and it’s open and unlocked.”

“But you don’t know what to do?” She teased him.

“Yeah,” he blushed. Watching Y/N sit in the desk chair and start looking through his things.

“His Facebook is pretty basic, he checked in at the bar with a photo here of him with Emily and Noelle, and then he went offline. He doesn’t have Twitter or Tumblr logged in, so I’m guessing he doesn’t have that,” Y/N explains as she stalked his activity. “In his history, your male basics. Case research, pornhub, Facebook, Hotmail… hold on.”

She read through all the subjects, all looking pretty normal. “What would a gay man hiding his sex life from his co-workers disguise his emails as?”

“Work-out appointments,” Morgan answered almost too quickly.

‘Workout’ she typed into the search bar. Seeing 15 messages from another man named [email protected]. “got him, call Garcia.”

“Hey baby girl,” Derek spoke softly as she answered. “We got Jensen Perry’s computer open, his email shows he’s been working out with a [email protected].”

“Already working my finger magic,” she teased him. Hanging up before he could say anything back.

“That woman will be the death of me,” he sighed.

“I don’t think we’ll find anything else here, our best bet is with Garcia,” Y/N admitted as she closed all the windows. “Wait,” she pulled up the search and typed in ‘find my iPhone,’ “if he has a Mac he has an iPhone, not many people blend their tech.”

Last ping: 2256 Sheerly Lane, Friday at 23:56.

“I’ll call Hotch while you drive,” Y/N said, pulling out her phone and following the men out the door.

Morgan followed the GPS 15 minutes down the street to an apartment complex. It was worn down and looked as if no one had taken care of it in the last 25 years. “I’m calling Garcia before you go in, I don’t feel good about this.”

“Hey doll,” Garcia’s cheery voice was a nice refresher.

“Hey, do you have any info on who owns and occupies 2256, Sheerly Lane?” Y/N asked softly. “Also send backup to this location, it’s where Perry’s iPhone is apparently and it looks sketchy as hell.”

She heard the clicking of the keys before she heard Garcia’s reply. “Yep, we have 1 occupant. Amy Romano, 46, left the building after her mother died. She’s been living there in room 333 for years, not renting any rooms out at all in the last 3 years.”

“A woman?” Morgan was shocked.

“Must be why we’ve never found the bodies, female serial killers are 90% less likely to ever be caught,” Reid added his fun fact, one she’s heard from him a handful of times before.

“Exactly,” Y/N agreed. “What do we know about her?”

“She’s an interesting one,” Garcia’s tone changed. “Her father was a minister, big bible freak. Her mother was the maid here at the hotel before being given the deed from the original owner’s family. She died in 1988.”

“How much of the religious upbringing rubbed off on her?”

“Enough to make her have multiple psychotic breaks, being diagnosed with schizophrenia when she was 15,” Garcia gained more insight. “Claimed to have been visited by God, and was told sinners are punished by word of god. That one day she would be the one to follow his word for the righteous man.”

“What if she’s doing her own form of conversion therapy?” Y/N gasped. “She’s not killing them. She’s following god’s word and freeing them from their sins. This is the perfect place to keep them. Locking them in rooms away from each other, secluding them and only subjecting them to a female for long periods of time.”

“Garcia, we need back up right now,” Morgan stressed.

“they’re 4 minutes out, good luck in there my babies.”

“See you soon, baby girl.”

Being left out of raids was weird to her, watching Spencer put on a bullet-proof vest and load his gun without her cover made her anxious. Luckily, she got to stand with JJ outside. Watching the building as they listened over their radiofrequency.

“Clear,” Morgan spoke over the system.

“Clear here as well,” Hotch said. “Meet me at the stairwell.”

“I hate this,” Y/N whispered.

JJ ran her hand along Y/N’s back softly, “me too.”

“Floor 3, room 33,” Hotch explained. “I’ll kick in the door, Morgan, you enter first. Spencer and Prentiss, follow our lead.”

Not having a visual was the worst part. There was no way to know where they were or who was there. They worked on sounds, if and when the team decided to speak.

“1, 2, 3,” Morgan whispered before they heard the door smash in. “FBI!”

Then it was silent again, too quiet for anyone’s liking, staring up at the third floor trying to hear everything in the neighbourhood.

“Amy Romano put the gun down!”

“No!” They heard before 4 shots were fired.

Y/N’s heart was in her throat; she couldn’t hear anything going on inside. The officers asked over the radio for updates, hearing nothing in return. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from running towards the apartment buildings before anyone could catch her. Up 3 flights of stairs, drawing her gun and walking towards the room.

Morgan was shot in the arm, down. Prentiss, hiding behind a table with Morgan and Spencer as she tried to stop the bleeding. Hotch in the unsub’s grasp, fighting for a gun.

Hotch noticed Y/N in the doorway. Kicking the unsub down. Y/N wrapped her arm around the unsub’s neck, putting her in a headlock as Hotch attempted to cuff her. She struggled like a wet fish against them, slipping out of her grasp and falling to the floor.

“If God wants to tell me to stop, he’ll tell me himself!” She screamed.

Y/N presses her gun to her head, “he just did.”

“Amy Romano you’re under arrest for the kidnapping of 24 men, attempted murder of a federal agent and resisting arrest,” Hotch explained as he cuffed her.

“Y/N!” Spencer stood up, looking at her like she was the crazy person. “We agreed, 3rd trimester, no fieldwork.”

“You didn’t reply on the radio and suddenly I was here,” Y/N explained, “I’m sorry.”

“We need EMTs, Morgan’s been shot in the arm. The bleeding is under control, just hurry.” Prentiss ordered over the radio.

“Y/L/N is going to need to get checked as well,” Spencer added.

“Why?”

“You ran up three flights of stairs, wrestled an unsub and got elbowed in the side,” Spencer explained, taking her hand and leading her out of the room.

“I’m sorry, I get it now I really do,” Y/N stopped him in the hallway, holding him in her arms. “I don’t like when I can’t see that you’re safe.”

Spencer kissed the top of her head, “I love you.”

“The baby’s kicking,” she replied softly, “that’s good right? 4 movements in 30 minutes after activity is a good thing.”

Spencer laughed, pulling back to feel her belly. “I’m sure he’s all hopped up on adrenaline now, come on let’s get him looked at quickly.”

—

They found 16 of the 24 men alive and in critical condition inside the apartment building. SCSI was canvassing the scene with local cops, taping up the building and surrounding property while the city discussed demolishing the building altogether.

Y/N was able to witness Noelle running into Jensen Perry’s arms, hugging him as they cried in his hospital bed. Y/N could imagine the trauma he was going through, the terror and the fear of something you really don’t want, happening anyway.

“Why do people do terrible things in the name of God?” Y/N whispered towards Spencer, looking up at him with soft eyes. Truly curious.

“The religious system runs similarly to cults, they believe the words are to be followed and thus they will gain entrance to heaven. If there’s one thing humans are afraid of more than dying, it’s internal damnation. Holding the fact that they will suffer in death over their head is a way to get them to do anything.” Spencer explained softly. “With the right person, the wrong message can actually sound like a pretty good thing.”

Y/N let out a deep sigh, “how do you raise a good child in a fucked up world?”

“Matthew, 18; 1 through 5, At that time the disciples came to Jesus and said, “Who then is greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” And He called a child to Himself and set him before them, and said, “Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” Spencer repeated the bible verse softly. “Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever receives one such child in My name receives Me.”

Y/N smiled, “I like that.”

“He was always supposed to be good, he has you as his mother.”

chapter 24

April rolled around out of nowhere. Suddenly the snow had all melted, the birds were returning, and the trees were starting to bud thanks to the week of thunderstorms.

Love was in the air, both in the wild and in Y/N’s life.

The wedding’s in 2 weeks and she’s growing daily. She wanted to wait till the last possible moment to get her dress. Wanting it to actually fit over her stomach on the big day without any struggle.

Being placed on office duty for the rest of her pregnancy made it easier, not being allowed to leave Mindy and Penelope's side, under direct order from Aaron Hotchner. She was starting to notice that the more pregnant she got, the more the men of the team wanted to protect her as well.

JJ said it was the same for her the first time, all the alpha personalities came out around the third trimester. It was like they didn’t quite register that a woman on the team was pregnant till it was abundantly clear.

The girls had all agreed to go to the dress store with Y/N when they had a free afternoon, but that didn’t seem to be happening any time soon. Y/N ended up going by herself between cases while Spencer was on a flight, trying on 6 different dresses before she found one that made her happy.

The sales associate was being extra nice to her, knowing she had both a big budget and no time. It was an easy sale, but this wasn’t an easy decision.

She tried a sleeveless, skin-tight number on first. Not being able to even move once she got in it, not even bothering to look in the mirror. It wasn’t right, that was for sure.

Eventually, by #5 they had an idea of what she wanted. Long sleeves to hide her stretch marks, it had to be flowy but still show off the bump. And she wanted lace, embroidery even. Something that made it different, something that was more like her. Always growing, changing, adapting.

She was wandering the racks when she saw it.

It was so long, the train had to be at least 6 feet. It was light, made with sheer fabric so it would twist and flow with whatever direction she ran or danced. She could imagine walking through the grass with the train flowing behind her with purpose.

The most wonderful aspect was the long sleeves and the neckline. Cupping her chest perfectly with a nice ribbon right above her bump. The entire dress reminded her of something, the floral embroidery sending her back to a dress she remembers from her childhood, not able to place it but knowing it in her heart.

She looked in the mirror at herself, she felt beautiful. She shook her head lightly as a tear fell down her cheek. “It’s perfect,” she whispered.

The sales associate shook a big bell then, causing everyone to look at her and cheer. “Are you saying yes?” She asked, as cheesy as it was, she loved it.

“Yes!” She cheered back, feeling the love from everyone in the store.

The dress was huge, she laid the bag against her passenger seat and stared at it for a while. It felt a little crazy that she was getting married in a few days, even crazier that she was having a baby in 2 months.

Her phone rang as she started to leave. “Hewwo?” She answered softly, knowing it was Spencer.

“I just got home, where are you?”

“Oh,” she smiled. “Penelope said you guys wouldn’t be back until 9, I went and picked out a dress.”

“Alone?” He sounded sad.

“It was better this way, I picked it for me and no one else,” she reassured him. “I’m on my way home now though baby, I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, drive safe. I love you,” Spencer replied, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

“Love you too,” she hung up.

She sighed, turning on the stereo and driving home to her favourite albums. Driving alone was different for her now, she used to love just escaping into the Virginia wilderness, picking a road and an album and just going somewhere.

Driving with Spencer meant silence, hand-holding, humming and ha-ing as he discovered new facts that intrigued him. She loved it, the ambiance of Doctor Spencer Reid was not something you could replicate, it was special and calming and wonderful.

She couldn’t wait to get home to him.

He was waiting on the front porch as she rolled into the driveway. Joining her at the car, wanting to help her carry her things inside. “Hi,” she smiled at him as she stepped out.

He pulled her into a hug, kissing her cheek softly. “Want some help?”

“If you don’t mind carrying in my dress, I need to pee so bad!” She said, almost about to run inside when he stopped her.

“Like how bad?” He asked.

“Excuse me?”

“If you were to get surprised would you pee your pants?” He tried not to laugh as he asked.

“Spence?”

“Just go in,” he said softly.

She sighed, knowing what this meant. Walking up the stairs slowly, turning the doorknob just as slow. Not ready to have her eardrums blown out.

“Surprise!!”

Sure enough, there were balloons and flowers and her friends gathered all inside her front hall. “Oh my god?”

Penelope wrapped her in a hug first, “your first baby shower has to be special!”

“You guys really didn’t have to do this?” She was so shocked to be getting attention that she felt a little embarrassed.

“We wanted to,” JJ hugged her next, their bumps too big to hug normally, opting for more of a side snuggle. “I got you something to change into before we get started.”

Y/N took the small blue bag from her, kicking her shoes off before they went upstairs. Spencer joining with her wedding dress, hanging it in the closet and slipping back downstairs, unnoticed.

Y/N opened the gift bag on her bed, JJ looked around the room for the first time ever. Looking at the photos of their first day of kindergarten on the wall, the artwork they chose. How Spencer wrote notes to her on the mirror with whiteboard markers.

“You guys are really cute,” she smiled.

“Thanks,” she smiled.

Finally taking the dress out of the bag, it was just something simple. Blue with pink flowers. Something she’d definitely pick out on her own. “This is so beautiful!”

“I got it when I was pregnant with Henry and never had a chance to wear it,” She smiled, “thought that you’d like it more.”

Y/N hugged her, “seriously this is the best thing you guys could’ve done for me!”

“I’m also going to need a pink dress,” JJ said softly in her grasp.

“No?” Y/N was shocked. “Really a mini JJ?”

“Yeah,” she smiled softly. “Hurry up we have more surprises for you downstairs!”

—

It took her longer than she hoped to get changed. The baby was just big enough to make her winded all the time now. Having to stop and take a breather just from taking her pants off. Not to mention the struggle of standing up after peeing.

When she finally made it back down the stairs on her swollen feet, she heard a familiar giggle that she loved very much. “You didn’t?”

JJ smiled, “it was Rossi and Will, they flew them all in and got them here.”

Her parents, brothers and wives were all in the kitchen waiting for her. Then she saw Diana, who was pressed up close to Spencer having a conversation in their own little world.

She walked in and cried, hugging her parents for the first time in 5 months. Showing off her big baby bump and chunky face for the first time too.

“You look amazing!” Her mom complimented her, taking her hand and making her spin slowly.

“Thank you, I feel huge,” she smiled. “I can’t believe you guys are here, I’m literally coming home in 2 weeks!”

“When David Rossi calls you and says he has a jet picking us up, you don’t just say no,” her father laughed, wrapping his arm around Rossi. They were going to be something else together.

She gave Diana a big hug when she could, watching her rub her belly and talk to the baby through her stomach for a good 10 minutes. It was so cute, everyone in the room watched and swooned. Secretly always hoping Spencer’s family got a moment like this.

After dealing with the Riley Jenkins case, and Gideon leaving, they worried for him. They never expected him to just show up one day with a girl and start the rest of his life the way he did. But it just made sense. He sped through school and early adulthood well before Y/N, now they’re moving fast, just together.

They had pizza for dinner, spreading 6 different kinds across the counter and telling everyone to dig in. Y/N took a slice and walked around, mingling with everyone to ensure she thanked them for coming.

“Henry!” She finally found him with Chloe and Lizzie. He ran into her arms, giving her a big hug. “Did you meet my niece?”

“You’re my any?” He questioned her right back.

“Come here Clo,” she called her over, huddling them both in close to her. “You both get to call me aunty Y/N, isn’t that so cool? You’re new friends and you share an aunty!”

Chloe gave her a big hug, she was getting bigger and bigger every day, about to turn 4 in a few months. It felt a little crazy, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“How are you?” She asked her softly.

“I’m good,” she whispered at her, smiling before hiding her face in her dress.

“Are you having fun here? Did you meet buddy yet?”

“No!” Chloe’s face lit up.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” She gasped at them both, getting back up to her feet and walking with them to where Buddy hid in the laundry room.

He was curled into a ball in a basket of towels, peaceful in the quietest room in the house.

Chloe and Henry took turns petting Buddy, kissing his head and playing with his tail, it was good for him to get a little used to grabby kid's hands. She was a little worried about how he’d handle a baby, but he was a chill cat he never really cared about attention as long as he was fed.

Eventually, JJ and Lizzie found them, peeling them away from the cat with the promise of cake while Y/N opened her gifts from everyone.

Everyone was watching her as she sat down in the living room, feeling a little anxious like she had to perform for them or something. Spencer finally joined her on the couch then, wrapping his arm around her in a soothing motion.

“So,” Garcia started. “I took it upon myself to organize the party but I didn’t just stop there, I also emailed everyone a link to a chart where they could pick the category of gift they got you so that we avoided repeats and got everything you would need.”

“This is all so much,” she turned bright pink. “You guys really didn’t have to I feel like I haven’t bought anything for myself since I met Spencer.”

“Nonsense!” Penelope hushed her. “Here, pick whatever one grabs your fancy.”

Y/N’s eyes raked over the pile of gifts, “um that big one over there, why not.”

It was a big blue bag, stuffed to the brim with tissue paper. The card on the handle was signed, she opened it to find 'from; Erin Strauss' on it. “Oh?”

“She couldn’t come but she passed that along on behalf of the section,” Hotch explained.

Y/N didn’t waste any time opening it. Finding brand named everything that she would need for breastfeeding, losing her mind at the never-ending bag.

Almost every gift was the same, all themed and absolutely filled. She was never going to have to buy anything for Matthew, she got it all today.

Hotch and Haley got her a babies bath essentials set. Her parents equipped her with every form of linen she would ever need for a baby, as well as a quilt made just for Matthew.

Penelope bought easily $400 in clothes for him over the past 7 months, with the promise of not stopping any time soon. Derek and Emily got together to buy them an all-terrain stroller, for the walks they expect them to take down the back roads. Emily’s girlfriend even brought a mom after-care set for her.

Diana’s gift made her cry the most, opening the box to find old copies of childhood books. “Those were all Spencers when he was a child,” she explained softly. “His love for the world started with those stories, I would like for Matthew to know them too.”

“Absolutely,” Y/N wiped the tears off her face, leaning over to hug her. “If Matty ends up being even half as wonderful as Spencer I’ll be grateful.”

“Spencer, did you get her anything?” Diana asked him softly as she was still mid embrace with Y/N.

“It’s in the garage,” Spencer smiled.

She looked at him with excitement, “you didn’t!”

“I might have,” he smiled.

“What?” Rossi asked, hating suspense more than anyone on the team.

“I was joking about wanting to get an SUV and become a soccer mom,” Y/N’s whole face lit up. “Did you get me a soccer mom mobile?”

He smiled back at her, “here.”

She held the key in her hand, her car was old as hell. She has had it since she moved to Virginia and even then it was a 2004 model. She had never had a new car, with the fresh car smell and clean everything!

“I am so overwhelmed,” she announced, bouncing a little in her seat as she shook her hands. Stimming just a small amount in front of everyone in all the excitement.

“We’re all done celebrating you now, I think we can start getting out of your hair, right guys?” JJ stood and pressured everyone that wasn’t relying on their house for the night, out the door.

Penelope helped Debbie and Diana clean everything up around the house. Peeling Henry and Chloe away from each other was the most difficult part of the night, becoming fast friends and wanting to look at books all night together in uncle Spencers library.

Rossi offered to let her brother Levi and his wife stay at his place while Diana and Y/N’s parents took the guest room in her home. Harrison and Faith driving back to Fort Meade to their own house.

—

Y/N and Spencer sat up in their bed, leaning against the headboard as they listened to the quiet of their house. Their co-workers were gone, their parents were settled in the guest rooms and most likely still awake from the time difference. The day had been so crazy that she barely had time to wrap her head around it.

“So…” Y/N cut the awkward silence. “Wanna make out?”

He laughed at her, shaking his head. “Remember the last time you asked me to do that?”

“Yeah, I lost my virginity,” she whispered back at him. A little scared that everyone could hear them talking.

“We can't,” Spencer looked at her with wide eyes. “It's bad enough my mother knows I’ve had sex once let alone possibly hearing us.”

He nudged him a little, crawling into his lap and sitting there softly. Her belly pressed against him, filling the space between them as she held his face in her hands.

“They’re on the other side of the house,” she pouted. “Just make out with me?”

He kissed her quickly once, “why are you so needy tonight?”

“All day I’ve had everyone's attention but yours,” she explained softly. “I missed you and I want my Spencer time.”

He couldn’t say no to that, because he felt the exact same way. He ran his hands up her thighs, over her hips and finally resting them on her back. She ran her thumbs over Spencer's cheeks, looking at him softly as she tilted her head to really admire him.

His lips were perfect, his nose was adorable. The way his stubble grew in and darkened his jaw was amazing. His bone structure, his eye colour, the way his hair just fell flawlessly into place with 0 effort. She sighed as she looked at him.

“I love you,” she whispered, biting back a smile as she waited for his response.

“I love you,” he giggled as he looked right back at her. It almost felt more intimate than sex, just staring into each other's eyes in a dimly lit bedroom, in the middle of the night.

She ran her hands up into his hair, combing her fingers through it. He tilted his head back every time, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling. She was about to smile when she got a sharp shooting pain in her hips.

“Oh, my, god,” she breathed out. “Ouch?” She scrunched her face with the pain as the sharpness dulled into the bone, just feeling uncomfortable as she tensed up in his lap. She didn’t even realize she was tugging on his hair in response to the pain.

“What?” Spencer asked, concerned as all hell.

“I think that was Braxton hicks? It was like everything down there just lit up in pain,” she explained with a horrified look on her face.

He ran his hands softly over her hips, soothing the skin in an attempt to help. “Are they bad?”

“It just feels like a pinched nerve at first and then a dull ache, it’s not the worst. I don’t enjoy it that's for sure,” she laughed a little louder. “God, I hope he’s kind to me on the way out.”

“I was doing research into the best drugs and techniques for birth for mothers that don’t want any drugs either because they’re sober or they don’t want to be removed from the moment,” Spencer explained softly. “There are a lot of options if you want to look into them with me this week?”

“Of course you did,” she smiled at him once again, feeling a bit better. “We also have to pack the baby’s go-bag.”

Spencer laughed at the way she phrased it. “Isn’t it just a hospital bag and a diaper bag?”

“No, it’s a mission to have a baby. It’s a go-bag.”

They kept giggling with each other over the dumbest things, staring at smiling as they laughed. Spencer’s hands roamed her back while she poked his face. Happily just talking in each other's space about the most random shit.

It was what she loved the most about him, that they could equally ramble about what they found interesting and the other felt just as excited about learning something new. They had mutual respect for each other's interests and feelings that ran deeper than most, truly loving every word that left their partner's mouth.

By the time they settled against the pillows and attempted to sleep it was half 1 in the morning. They turned all the lights out and still just stared at each other.

She booped his nose softly with her own, watching him scrunch his face as a result before giggling again.

“Do you have any idea what the case tomorrow will be?” She was only asking because she wanted more time with him, needing to find every topic to bring up so that the night never ended.

“Mindy’s pitching something to us tomorrow again,” he whispered. “You’ll be good at this one.”

“Oh I’m excited now okay, goodnight,” she closed her eyes and pretended to snore, making him snuggle in and wrap her arms around him, pulling her in close the way they liked it.

“I love you, bunny,” he said one last time for the night.

She sighed as she settled into him, “I love you more Spence.”

#hypothetically #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader

[fezcosbitch]

JJ MAYBANK IMAGINE:

PASSION AND WILD REGRET 2

After a few requests, here’s the second part to passion and wild regret

you can read part 1 here

if the link doesn't work please tell me! x

I hope you enjoy ❤️

You can request if you want x

Warnings: Angst, hella angst. Also the pogues (kie) are rude in this one like...RUDE. Reader is confrontational and not gonna lie, i’m here for it, like I wish I could do this. also if you like Kie... you about to not like Kie, shes a bit off the rails, mega jealous ex here.

All feedback’s welcome, as long as its not mean or rude 💙

So yeah, hopefully you enjoy❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was 2:57 when i woke up the following morning, or evening, and i had absolutely no clue what to  do with myself. I had an immense headache, and a deep pain in my heart. How could they do that? say that? You had been there for them all, through everything. Yet somehow they decide to say all that about you. You were there for Kie when she was at her lowest point, you found her in the bathrooms with Sarah, yet when Sarah left, you stayed, and she never saw it. When John B felt like he would never fit in, and you were the only one (apart from JJ) who stuck by him. Or pope, who, for preparation for his college interview wanted someone to revise with so he wouldn’t be lonely for hours on end, and when everyone opted to surf and sun tan instead of help him, you were the one to stay behind and assist him in his studies, while you could’ve been outside in the summer, tanning and surfing. And  then JJ, the person who undoubtedly hurt you the most. You were there for him all the time. Throughout all the beatings his dad gave him. And all the angry times he almost threw his life away by getting arrested. You saved him from so much, and yet he repays you by saying you’re too much for him, and not worth him.

You couldn’t stand having these thoughts festering around in your mind, so decided that the best thing would be to confront the pogues, and ask why they thought what they did. You hopped in your car and drove over to the chateau, ready to either make or break all your supposed friendships.

Pulling up to the chateau, You saw all the pogues sitting around the porch, talking about something you couldn’t hear. After you’ve stepped out your car, you slam the door shut and lock it, as all the pogues heads turn to look at you. JJ immediately gets up and heads towards you, while the rest of the pogues stand up behind him.

“oh baby I-” JJ started, tears brimming in his eyes already just wanting to apologize over and over again. “don’t even JJ, don’t even start” you said , shaking your head at him “I-” he tried again desperate for you to hear what he wanted to say. “NO JJ, NO. You don’t get to speak over me ok? none of you do. I cant believe you guys i mean, how dare you. I’ve done nothing but stick by you! all of you! yet you repay me like this? wow, Thanks guys I really appreciate that yeah. Just, I can’t believe all of you.” You quickly let out, looking at all of them

“I DIDN’T AGREE WITH THEM BABY I SWEAR” JJ bursts out, desperate for you to forgive him. “what?” you question, immediately wanting to know if this is true. “ I-I-I don’t know what you heard but I never agreed to what they said,I would never, please baby believe me, I know you’ve done so much for me, you’re the best thing to ever happen to me, I argued fully with them all night, I never once agreed, please take me back.” JJ begged, now directly in front of you grasping onto your hands. “is this true?” you asked the rest of the pogues behind him, desperate to find out if it was true or not, desperately wanting someone on your side. All the pogues solemnly nodded, proving to you that JJ did in fact argue against his friends. You looked him dead in the eye “of course i’ll take you back idiot, i kind of stormed of halfway through, didn’t get to hear what you said” you told him smiling through your tears of joy due to knowing that JJ did in fact fight for you. you quickly take him in your arms and hold him tight, “I’m so sorry” you whispered, knowing it must of been hard for him to read the letter you left him. “It’s ok” he whispered back, lightly kissing your shoulder. In that moment you both knew you were never going to let go of each other again, and that if needed, you’d swim entire oceans to be together. 

In all of that chaos you had forgotten the pogues behind you, who you initially came here for. Breaking out of the hug between you and JJ, you turn to face them with all your pent up anger ready to be unleashed, and knowing JJ was safely with you, and prepared to go to the end of the earth with you, you felt ready to take on whatever your ‘friends’ say to you. 

“What about you guys then?” you started off. “What was that all about? all the ‘Y/ns not good enough for you’, and the ‘she’ll only bring you down’ what was all that?” you questioned looking around at all three of them “Its our honest thoughts” Kie spoke up, making you turn to look at her. “really?” you questioned, cocking one eyebrow. “yeah” she responded, crossing her arms. “boys?” you asked, wanting to see if they agreed. John B was the first to nod his head, almost instantly, and pope slowly after, agreeing with his statement. “wow... All my friends hate me.” you whistled, slowly coming to the full realization. JJ grasped your hand, to remind you that he was there for you. “We don’t hate you y/n... we just hate you and JJ being together” John B backed Kiara up, acting as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “why bro? why can’t you just be happy for us?” JJ questioned from behind you, genuinely curious “ because bro, Shes a bad influence. She doesn’t care bro, not about you, us, anyone man why can’t you see that? sure shes cool and stuff and shes a fun friend but that’s all she should ever be” John B ranted. “ What the fuck bro? All of you think that? wow. So everything I’ve ever done for you guys is washed away by some dumb mistakes right? I do some drugs and SHIT I’m the worst person in the world right? everything I’ve ever done forgotten because of some things I do when I’m drunk right?” you questioned all at once, trying to show them how stupid they were being. “Yes” Kiara responds. “Yes because we don’t know what else you’ll do. First it’s molly, next its what? METH?” Kiara stressed. “You’re unreliable, and God knows what you could get JJ into.” she finished. “wha- Kie why are you SO scared about what JJ could get into man? Like what?  I’d never hurt him, or do anything like that, I love him man, so what are you so worried about?” you ranted, confused by Kies emotions. Of course you understood her worry for her friends. but she didn’t say that about John B, or Pope, so why JJ? “BECAUSE YOU DON’T DESERVE HIM! YOU NEVER DID” Kie fully lets out. Ah, you understood now. “You jealous Kiara?” you questioned? “you want JJ yeah? want him to be with you, so now everything I do apparently is more of a reason for him to be with you yeah?” you finally said, having worked out why she was so angry. Kie and the rest of the pogues were silent at your discovery. “wait, what about you guys?” you questioned the two boys. “well uhh, Kie kinda told us you may have cheated on J”

your jaw dropped. 

“THE FUCK KIE? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” you were shocked at the lies she was spilling. “ WELL YOU DON’T DESERVE HIM ANYWAY, THE MORE PEOPLE THAT SEE THAT MAYBE THE MORE HE’LL REALIZE IT, WHO CARES IF THERE’S A COUPLE OF LIES” all of you stood there shocked at what Kie just said. “ the fuck-” JJ started, shocked out of his mind that Kie would say something like that. “ I can’t even. Don’t talk to me Kiara, don’t even approach me until i say so, oh and sort out your major jealousy problem, it’s not cute honey” you said while getting in your car, waiting for JJ to enter in the passenger side. After J got in, you started the car and rolled down your window, “oh and I forgive you boys, i understand why you did it, so like don’t worry. Sort it out Kie, love” you sarcastically grinned and waved to her as you drove away.

“Jesus Christ” you said to JJ “you know I’d never cheat on you don’t you?” you questioned just to make sure. “no of course i know you wouldn’t, its just, the fuck was that with Kie like, what even?” JJ responded. “Honestly, I don’t even know. I forgive John B and Pope cause like, obviously, they were lied to and lead to believe all that but like. How can she be so jealous man?” you questioned, genuinely curious about how one person could be so jealous of another. “I don’t know baby, I don’t know” J responded while kissing your hand.

even though you were away from it all, one question played on your mind...why would she do that?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So yeah... Kie did that.

What were your thoughts? Please tell me ! 💙

Part 3 anyone? If so please tell me x

Sorry for the long wait x

And also sorry if it’s bad ❤️

But yeah that was that how do you feel about it?

All feedbacks welcome as long as it’s not rude or mean💙

But yeah, cya

People who wanted to be tagged :

@mrsmaybank18 (Wouldn’t let me tag you :( )

@captainwinterwriter @ifilwtmfc @hurricane-abigail

@thenextteen

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj #jj maybank angst #obx #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #john b #part #JJ #Sarah Cameron #rafe Cameron #pope heyward #kiara carrera #jj Maybank #JJ Maybank #angst #jealous #jj Maybank x jealous reader #jealous kiarra carrera #part2 #OBX #obx2 #obx imagine #Outerbanks

[yourmcu]

Mesmerized (ii)

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Request:

@lostaurorax​ said:

hii!! i love ur writing i was wondering if u could write a natasha x reader fic were reader is part of the guardians of the galaxy and they come to the compound and natasha is just starstruck but reader plays kinda hard to get and then just a bunch of fluff !

Word count: 2,551

A/n: basically a day out with Natasha. you like having her around. she likes having you around. Part 2/? (more notes at the end of the fic!)

Warnings: mostly fluff, but ending’s pretty angsty (help), some thor fluff in the beginning, jealous!nat if you squint

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

gif not mine!! credits to the owner^^

After Natasha left your room she immediately goes straight to hers. She barely falls asleep.

She stares at the ceiling, absorbed in her own thoughts. She tries to shake away the heat rushing to her face whenever the moment you kissed her on the cheek replays on her mind. All it took is someone like you to get one of the toughest people in the compound turn into mush.

She never believes in the ‘love at first sight’ bullshit because, well, it is bullshit. It’s impossible to love someone you just met. But who knows, right? You might just be an exception.

No, Natasha frowns. I just like her... a lot. It’s different.

The next morning, her run consists of her planning out the date day with you, where she’d take you first and stuff. She stops by the front gate of the compound, suddenly worrying. She wants to impress you. But what if you don’t like what she had in store? What if you think she's boring?

You're the type of person that almost likes everything and you’d express it kindly if you don’t. Boring you should be the last thing on Natasha’s mind.

Natasha walks into the kitchen to hydrate herself but halts once she saw the mess you and Thor had all over the counters.

“Wait, hold on- no, that’s - oh god, Thor, that’s too much batter!” You smack him on the arm and laugh, tilting your head a bit to figure out how you’d get the large pancake out of the pan.

“Oops,” Thor says sheepishly, turning around to put the bowl back on the counter, noticing Natasha’s confusion. “Oh don’t worry, Natasha, we’ll clean up after we’re done.”

The mention of the redhead makes you turn as well. “Good morning, Nat.” You beam. Normally, Natasha would sent a glare to anyone who calls her that, someone who isn’t a close friend, but with you... instead of a glare her eyes light  up. Giving you a small smile, she greets you back.

“I thought you were going out?” She questions, passing by you to reach the fridge.

“We were, but IHOP’s closed, under maintenance they said,” Thor sighs and you hum in response. “It’s quite alright. I heard you guys are going out anyway-”

Natasha lowers the water bottle from her lips, staring at him. “You heard?”

You spin around to clean up after turning off the stove. ‘I didn’t tell him anything,’ you mouth to her, which makes her think Steve somehow knows of it already.

Thor lets out a laugh, grabbing the whole pan and twiddling his fork, “you two have fun.” He winks and walks out of the room.

-----

“They were so cute,” you look back at the newly engaged couple near the window of the restaurant. “And really, you didn’t have to pay. I can pay you back.”

Later that afternoon the both of you headed out. Natasha parked her car somewhere and since it was a nice day, not too hot or anything, you both strolled around the city to find a place to have brunch.

“Y/N, it’s fine. I’m the one who asked you out.” Natasha chuckles, remembering the way you pouted in there begging her to let you pay at least for your own food.

You huff, smiling. “Fine. But I’m getting you back.”

So far you were having a good time with her. You got to know each other more, she told you stories about some of the team’s missions from other countries which were relatively rare, her first encounters with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, and in return you told her some about your out-of-this-world missions with the guardians.

And no you didn’t tell her about the history of moon rocks or some shit, nor did you promise to bring her back some. Who even collects those nowadays? Natasha was more interested about your early life, on Earth, which you were thankful for. You were taken away from your father (the only parent you preferred and loved) who was pure human one day by your alien-freak of a mother which you inherited your fire powers from.

You don’t like talking about it. But with her you're surprisingly comfortable.

Natasha smirks. “So we’re going out again sometime?”

“Of course we are.” After two seconds of pure confidence you wish you didn’t say that out loud. “Well, you know, I won’t force you to something you don’t want it’s - it’s your call.”

You're in the middle of telling her about your favorite bar and diner, the one your father always takes you as a child and you even paid a visit there the last time you were on Earth.

“Huh. Isn’t that the one that just closed?” She recalls

“No, really?” You drag out the ‘no’, sighing. “They’re the best. They make their own iced tea and beer and stuff... and - oh!”

You feel something rub against your ankle: a fluffy dog who's looking up at you with its tongue out and its tail was wagging wildly. Natasha raises her eyebrows, her eyes trailing to the abandoned leash behind it.

“Hey there,” you kneel down to pet it with caution just incase its intention is to bite you. But it seems to be happy and tame. “Look, Nat, s’adorable.” Natasha chuckles briefly and starts looking around for a person who looks frantic and is finding, calling a dog. 

“This fella belongs to the animal center.” You caress the dog behind its ear while you read the information on its collar.

It isn’t that far, it seems like the dog just escaped as well because the guy running the center was unaware of its absence.

“Thanks!” Said guy smiles in appreciation, reaching out to take the leash out of your hand. Natasha’s mind is focused on how the guy looks at you for the first time. It's the exact same look she gave you that night. Mesmerized, as if it was love at first sight. She doesn’t miss how his hand brushes yours, completely intentional. “I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t returned him. The pups here just grew out of their mom’s milk and are very hyper. It’s a lot of work.”

You're completely oblivious to this, you’re just glad the dog is back to where he belongs.

“No problem, he’s very sweet.” You smile politely. “Are they up for adoption? It would really help you out if they were, you know, and this one here is well behaved.”

At this point Natasha’s just eyeing the guy like he’d pounce on you any minute now. He’s definitely into you and she doesn’t like it.

“You’re welcome to stop by anytime,” he grins, ignoring your suggestion. “Can I have your number?”

“Oh, I don’t have a phone...” you trail off.

“That’s right, she doesn’t.” Natasha steps in and she catches the guy off guard and surprised that the Black Widow is actually with you the whole time. Natasha intertwines her hand with yours, pleased with his dumbfounded reaction. “We’ll be on our way now.”

You didn’t expect that but you weren’t complaining. Her hands were soft, and it brought this comforting feeling you couldn’t explain. But you clear your throat once the both of you are a few blocks away from the center.

“Sorry, he gave me an off vibe,” Natasha mutters and removes her hand from yours.

“Don’t be, I appreciate you looking out,” you smiles. Her car was getting into view now. “If it helps you sleep at night though, he wasn’t my type.” You joke.

Turns out you weren’t completely oblivious.

Natasha merely scoffs, getting in the driver’s seat and starting the engine.

After the dog incident you both drove around different parts of the city. You went to a different mall to stroll around, commenting on anything you both saw that would somehow lead to a stupid story that happened at some point in your lives.

A local artsy bookstore, not gonna lie Natasha liked reading a good book when she had the time. So did you. It was nice to know that she’s the type of person who liked reading. Quill always got annoyed with you whenever he saw you reading silently in the ship (but when was he not annoyed with you?). The only ones that was willing to try and read back in space were Mantis and Gamora, bless her soul.

“These are good,” you mutter to Natasha. “All my books are on the ship, I think, but if I get to them I’ll let you read my favorite one... if you want.”

Last stop of the day. Natasha claims it’s a surprise.

“I don’t do well with surprises,” you whine, holding back a smile. “Just tell me.”

“No. And besides, we’re already here.” Natasha chuckles.

Your eyes light up on how stunning the scenery was. An edge of the cliff and below is a beach that doesn’t look like it’s visited by people everyday. The beautiful sunset, the sky made up of purple, orange and almost pink magnifies the calmness of the waves crawling gently to the shore.

“I always come here whenever I need to,” she says silently and exhales, walking over to you. “It’s the perfect place to go whenever those idiots get on my nerves.” You laugh lightly at her reasoning.

Natasha pats a spot on the grass beside her. She holds her gaze on you as you sit down, sighing. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” she manages to stop staring at you and look up at the sky instead. It's getting darker by the minute, the orange and pinkness started to fade as the sun went down, all of it replaced by light purple, darker shade of blue.

You're used to different colored skies. It would always vary and depend on what planet you were on, plus you always see those stars shimmering up above, so your focus is on the water and the waves. The way they move calms you.

“Thank you for today,” you murmur. “I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t expect any of this happening.”

Natasha hums. “I hope I wasn’t too boring.”

“Of course not, I think you’re very interesting and you’re fun to be with.” You say genuinely.

Once the sun is fully down and the moon had taken over the sky, the both of you get up to head back to the compound. “Eating out here would’ve been nice but Steve’s in charge with dinner, he wouldn’t be too happy if he knew we already ate.” The car ride back is silent, but the good kind. A content, comfortable one.

Okay so, your stay took more than a few weeks. 

You grew close with the amazing group of people, plus your good relationship with Natasha just kept growing and... just got better.

Thor stayed too because he didn’t have a choice, but he didn’t mind. Rocket left one pod for both of you to use that’ll send you to wherever Quill’s ship was up there. 

You and Natasha went out when you had the chance, taking turns treating each other to stuff. You learned that Thor included your books when he packed you a bag, and now Natasha was borrowing one of them.

Sometimes you’d join them on missions. You did a great job every time, not wanting to be a burden to a team you weren’t officially in. Sometimes you’d join Steve into a sparring session at the compound’s gym.

Speaking of which, he’s treating both you and Natasha as if you’re dating.

“Would you look at that, your girl managed to give me a bruise. She’s a keeper.” Steve tells Natasha.

“You totally deserve that.”

You also started sparring with Natasha. And Tony caught on with the whole ‘dating’ thing from Steve.

“Oooh, am I interrupting something here?” Tony smirks. He's going back and forth visiting the compound and coming home to his wife and daughter at their cabin. It's working out though. “I think the mat’s unsanitary. Take this to the bedroom.”

“Oh shut up, Y/N was just working on her tackling.” Natasha grunts, leaving you sprawled  on the mat, exhausted. “It’s getting sloppy. We’ll go again in a minute.”

-----

“Y/N,” The devastating tone of Natasha’s voice makes you look up. “Quill’s calling. He’s looking for you.”

“What?” She doesn’t answer but instead motions you to follow. In her office is a hologram of your fellow half-human and he looks distraught.

You step in front of the hologram so he can see you. 

“What happened to a few weeks, L/N? It’s been almost three months!” Quill says. “Look, come back, bring Thor with you. Our distress signal goes off almost every day and we can’t keep doing this without both of you.”

“Alright, how much time do I have before you lose your cool?” You reply sarcastically, but you're also worried and didn’t want to leave. You know better than to argue with the guy.

Natasha doesn’t want you to leave so suddenly. There’s limited communication between you and her once you go back up there. She grew attached to you.

Quill gives you an obvious look. “As soon as possible! Just - just get back here, please?” Then he abruptly ends the call.

You roll your eyes and left the room to pack, barely noticing Natasha hunched over, visibly sad and anxious that you’re leaving.

She loves you, and now you’re leaving without that knowledge.

You told Thor about it when he passed by the open door of your room. He didn’t look thrilled to be leaving so suddenly. After packing everything up (on his part it wasn’t that much) he offered to carry your bag for you as you said your farewells.

“Sorry guys, duty calls,” you sigh, hugging everyone. “Seeing as Tony’s not here just tell him I’ll miss him or something.”

“Will you come visit soon?” Wanda asks as she pulls away from your hug.

“Definitely.” You turn your head when Steve nudges you, nodding his head to the direction where Natasha is shifting, pacing, avoiding any eye contact.

You walk over to her. She tries holding back tears as you did. She grew attached to you and now you’re leaving. “Hey Nat,” you cup her face, trying to get her to look at you. “I’m sorry. I don’t wanna leave either, not right now, but-”

Natasha kisses you, pulling you close to her as much as possible. Tears fully streaming down her face. She’s never felt this way before, about anybody, for a long time.

But let’s face it, you both know you loved each other. Maybe the both of you just knew that if you got together, it’ll be extremely hard for your relationship once you left. The long distance relationship thing. Even if you aren’t, it's already too painful for Natasha, like she's caught off guard or something. None of you knew that today's your last night on Earth.

“I’m gonna miss you.” Natasha whispers after pulling away.

You smile sympathetically, wiping her tears away with your thumb. “You know I’ll come back, right, pretty girl?” Natasha exhales shakily and pulls you into a hug.

“You better.”

----

I found a song for this fic-series whatever, please I’m so proud of myself the song reminds me of this story

I’M ANNOYED THAT I HAVEN’T PUT IN MUCH ABOUT THE READER’S FIRE ABILITIES IN THIS ONE BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY ANYWAY (they’re on a date she wouldn’t need it for anything)

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff oneshot #natalia romanova #natalia alianovna romanoff #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x fem!reader #black widow imagines #avengers #the avengers #avengers imagines #guardians of the galaxy #thor odinson #steve rogers #tony stark #bruce banner #wanda maximoff #thor #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #reader insert #fem reader #fem x fem #marvel #marvel imagines

[skellebonez]

16 & 26 with Huntsman X Sandy, LET'S GO

I HAD TO WRITE THIS IMMEDIATE AFTER EPISODE 8 I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS. YOU AND @kitkat1003 DID THIS TO ME. I WROTE THIS PAST 3 AM. I finished it in 30 minutes after I got online again. I want to write MORE so consider this just the start of another ongoing series of prompts I guess.

Obvious SPOILERS for S2E8.

I let you win./You don’t hate me.

Huntsman could not believe that he was doing this. But... everything was off. Nothing about what had happened since the Lunar New Year Festival had felt right to him, and after he retrieved the Demon Revealing Mirror his bad feelings about the entire situation was just farther confirmed. Now, however... now he had next to no trust in the person who was pulling all their strings. Not after her non-answer to his questions.

So now he was here. Out in the open. Back at the docks where he first got a good look at the man he had a recent encounter with. On the boat where he saw him and in front of his door. Huntsman knew he was inside because he had watched him come home.

He wish he knew what his name was, at the very least. He'd just been calling him Blue or Big Guy or something similar in his mind. Said as much during their last encounter. Hopefully what he had found after he had returned meant that there was at least still some good will in his direction from the larger man. Enough to make up for the fact he would have to ask for his name at least.

The door was right in front of him. He just... had to knock now. He knew how to knock, he could do it so quickly. He just... had to raise his arm...

And then his vision was a wall of blue and he let out a very unbecoming scream of surprise.

"It's you," Blue said, face a picture of... confusion. Not the immediate anger or suspicion that Huntsman had expected. It came after a moment however, a glower and a crossing of his arms. "It's you."

The spider demon couldn't help himself from tensing up for a moment, despite his best attempts at avoiding that, but it was only for a moment. He instantly stood up straight, clearing his throat before flourishing his arm with a chuckle. It came out shaky, more awkward than he had intended.

"Is that, heh... offer still on the... table?" He reached into his coat, pulling out the single teabag he had found stashed away in his pocket after their last encounter.

It took a hot second for Blue to react, but when he did it was instantaneous. He grabbed Huntsman by the coat collar and pulled him inside without so much as a word. Huntsman's first reaction was to pull back, fight back at the grip on his collar and then at the large muscular arms picking him up like he was as light as a rag doll, but he didn't. Instead he let himself be picked up, carried through the house boat and deposited on the couch before Blue sat across from him with a stern expression with his palm open.

Huntsman sat awkwardly for a moment before he realized what Blue wanted, and he held out his hand slowly. So slowly. He hovered above Blue's hand for a good few seconds, watching his expression before biting the bullet and opening it to let the tea bag fall into the large hand.

Before he knew it Blue was off and back again with a tray that held two cups and a hot kettle of water, and there was no way he boiled water that quickly he couldn’t have so he must have been making some already. He placed the tray down and began pouring water into the cups that held two identical teabags, one tag more torn and worn and dirty than the other so that must have been the one he had on him. Huntsman sat in silence, unsure of what to do aside from what this happen.

There were cats on the boat. Many cats, more than he could count. They didn’t come close to him, barring one. One that matched his owner in both color scheme and hair style, who sat on Blue’s shoulder and hissed at him threateningly.

Huntsman was not threatened by a cat.

“What’s your name?” Blue asked suddenly as he sat back, a wide smile with a hint of suspicion in the very back of his eyes. But the smile, the open expression, the willingness to give him another chance, that was far stronger. “I didn’t have the chance to ask you.”

“Uh... Huntsman,” he answered slowly, watching the steam lift from the slowly brewing tea between them.

“I’m Sandy,” Blue, Sandy, said without missing a beat. “What are you doing here so late at night, Huntsy?”

The spider demon froze, looking at Sandy incredulously. He had half a mind to tell him off then and there, to object to his name being shortened to something so... so... SILLY! But he didn’t. Huntsman was not stupid, he knew he was not a genius like Syntax (but, then again, how smart could the ex-human really be if he had believed that Spider Queen would not double cross him and bring him into the fold eventually), but he wasn’t stupid.

He remembered their fight. How strong this large demon was. He put Goliath to shame despite being of similar stature, there was something about this man that was hidden deep down somewhere that Huntsman could not see and when he admitted it to himself he had been terrified that Sandy would kill him at that time. He could have killed Huntsman. He saw what he did to the scenery around them. But he didn’t.

He let him go.

So Huntsman took a deep breathe and began to talk.

~

It didn’t take long for his explanation. Just long enough for the tea to finish steeping. He didn’t reveal everything, but he did say enough. Told him about Lady Bone Demon (Lady White Bone, White Bone Spirit, whatever name she was going by these days) and how she had been doing... something. How he had his suspicions for a while. How he was worried for his Queen.

“Do not misunderstand my intentions. I have no stake in your Monkie Kid group and quite frankly if Bone Lady wasn’t in the picture I wouldn’t be here,” Huntsman said firmly, picking up his tea cup as Sandy picked up his. “But I care for my Queen. And I believe she is in danger. I am no fool, I know we are enemies, but they do say ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’..” He paused, looking up at Sandy and maintaining eye contact with him. “And we have a common enemy.”

The cats that were hiding in the shadows had begun to slowly come out. Some were watching him from the shelves and cat trees. How in the world did everything in this house boat stay standing when he drove it?

“That we do,” Sandy agreed, again so fast and so simply. His willingness to listen to the spider demon put him off in a way, but in others... it felt nice to be listened to. As much as he loved his Queen there were times she just did not listen to him at all, Syntax and he did not see eye to eye on much, and Goliath... well, he listened usually. But he was even more loyal to Spider Queen than he was. He put total faith in her working with their extra member so talking to him had not gotten him far. “And after what happened at the festival and Monkey King’s island and all the other stuff? The others are going to take a lot of convincing. But I believe you.”

“You... believe me?” Huntsman asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow. “... You don’t hate me.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. One he could not believe he was saying.

“Nope,” Sandy said as he took a sip of his drink. “I don’t hate you. But that doesn’t mean we’re allies, I know that.”

“... you’re weird,” Huntsman said with a scoff, rolling his many eyes.

“Says the spider guy who let himself be dragged into his enemies home at 1 in the morning to be sat down for ‘a cuppa’,” Sandy shot back with a small smile. There was the smallest bit of amusement behind it. “We’re both weird.”

“Touche,” Huntsman could not help but reply as he looked down at his drink. He couldn’t help but wonder in the back of his mind if it was poisoned. That’s partly what he thought when the last cup was offered in the forest. But Sandy seemed to heartfelt in his offer to have done something like that. He didn’t seem the type to boast about getting alone and not wanting to fight only to poison someone. So Huntsman kept hold his his tea and brought it up to his face. “But that still begs the question. Do we trust each other enough to do anything more after this?”

“Oh, I don’t trust you nearly as far as I could throw you,” Sandy laughed out as he drank the rest of his tea. “But I trust myself. And I trust my own judgement. And I think I can trust myself enough to work with you for the better of both of our friends.”

Huntsman didn’t say anything at that. He sat, staring at the tea for another moment. He... did not trust Sandy, not fully yet. He trusted him enough to not kill him, and so far that trust had been rewarded quite well. But much like Sandy he trusted himself. He trusted his own judgement. And he had chosen to come here of his own volition, by himself, to protect his Queen.

A cat wandered over, a calico, and jumped onto the couch next to him. It stared up at him with bright brown eyes, watching him intently.

“Why did you let me leave?” He asked after a moment. “I let you win, by leaving. But you could have beaten me regardless. Why?”

“I wanted to give you another chance. Everyone deserves that much. Everyone.”

Huntsman gripped his teacup tighter at this, staring at the torn teabag with Sandy’s face on it. It must have been his own special blend. His own special blend that he had given to him as an olive branch. A sign that he would listen. And he had listened.

Huntsman gulped and raised the teacup to his lips and gulped.

It was smooth. Bright. Slightly bitter but not unintentionally.

It was the best tea Huntsman had ever had in his life.

“... How much tea does that second chance get me?”

Sandy smiled, a different kind of something that was brighter and softer and less in his face, and something in Huntsman's chest jumped of it's own accord.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fanfic #huntsman #sandy #ship fic #silktea #this possessed me and wrote itself #I WANT TO WRITE SOMETHING MORE OVERTLY SHIPPY ASAP

[ateezmakemeweep]

mingi x reader x wooyoung

word count: 25k

angst, smut

(part 1)

even before your relationship with wooyoung ended the way it did, you always wondered what drove people to cheat? did they just never care from the start, basing the relationship off lies and fake smiles, or did something happen down the line? 

were there problems that only one person could see and didn’t feel comfortable enough talking about to the other? did they feel neglected or unloved, like they needed to seek out that affection and validation elsewhere?

or did they really just have no regard for another person, selfishly occupied with their own pleasures and needs while realizing, maybe, they didn’t care if they hurt the person or not.

if you asked your ex-boyfriend, he’d say it was none of the above - he’d say that it simply just happened.

that one second, he was in love with you and the next, he somehow found himself in a whirlwind of kisses and touches behind closed doors with someone who wasn’t you.

that while he knew it was wrong and unfair to you, a part of him felt like he couldn’t stop. like he could keep up this affair of being a sweet, loving boyfriend but also someone another person found desirable and attractive.

enjoyed the rush and thrill of doing something forbidden, even though it felt wrong.

but of course, he didn’t tell you any of this; you hadn’t talked to him since he cried outside of his dorm building begging you for another chance. 

the same way you cried on the whole ride home and into your pillow that night, the night after that, and the night after that for about two whole months.

you can even admit, looking back at it now, eight months later, that you handled the breakup in a very cliche way: crying into a box of chocolates in bed and swearing that love didn’t exist. it was sad to you then, to believe so young that what you once felt was the best feeling in the world didn’t exist.

but the more time went on, the more you saw maybe you’d jumped the gun on that.

because just a few short weeks after the breakup, blocking wooyoung on every form of social media and telling your parents to never allow him in the house, you heard a knock at your door.

you approached it warily, eyeing the spray bottle on the counter and debating on arming yourself with that, before you saw a tall, familiar head through the glass window that definitely wasn’t your ex’s.

“how do you know where i live?” was the first question out of your mouth, not being able to keep the bite out of your tone or annoyance from crossing your face at mingi’s dejected form in front of you.

he had tried to talk to you the first few days after the incident, begging you to just hear him out and insist he never wanted you to feel stupid or in the dark; but that’s exactly how you felt. 

how could you not, after knowing everyone in wooyoung’s life knew about him and lisa except you? everyone who saw you and him together, looked you in the face and smiled at you two together, while also being fully aware of what him and another girl were doing.

“nice to see you too,” mingi said, his hand toying at the back of his hair nervously, an awkward smile creeping up on his face as he tries to lighten the tense mood.

but you’re only a few weeks out of the gate of being cheated on and humiliated, the boy in front of you harboring that information until it all blew it up in your face in the most upsetting way; so you can only roll your eyes and slam the door in his.

or at least attempt to, before his foot slips through the open space and halts it.

“y/n, wait-”

“no, mingi. i have nothing else to say to you.”

“i know and i don’t blame you,” the boy says, his soft, kind voice a stark contrast to his large, looming appearance. “but you deserve an apology. just give me ten minutes to try and explain.”

you bite the inside of your cheek as you look up at mingi, annoyance flooding through your veins as you’re tempted to tell him to go fuck himself. that no explanation is gonna excuse him harboring that knowledge for months. 

and he must know it too, because his face twists into one of remorse as he mutters a quietly spoken “please.”

and a small part of you knows he’s not the one who deserves this harsh reaction. he’s not the one who cheated and betrayed your trust; he had some allegiance to you, sure, being that he was your friend, but not as much as wooyoung did. 

he didn’t promise to love you and assure you there was nothing to worry about that. that he only had eyes for you and wouldn’t even think about betraying your trust or affections. he didn’t look you in the face and promise he’d never hurt you because he loved you more than anyone.

and even so, he looks almost as pathetic and desperate as your ex did when he was begging you for a second chance.

“five,” you snap shortly, backing away from the door and watching as mingi’s eyes light up in surprise.

he gives you a small smile that would usually soften your heart but only proves to make you raise an eyebrow, leading him to the living room where he fills you in on the truth about the past six months.

how when they first kissed at a random party, wooyoung was shitfaced and didn’t even remember the next morning; it was lisa showing him a picture her friend had snapped in the span of a few seconds that reminded him, guilt flooding through him as he told the girl that could never happen again.

but it did end up happening again. when wooyoung wasn’t shitfaced and lisa was there in his dorm alone.

“he said that lisa was crying, something about feeling alone and upset, because all her friends had boyfriend’s and she felt like a single loser,” mingi says, remembering how down and confused his roommate was the next day when he came home. “and then before he knew what happened, she leaned in and kissed him and he...”

mingi looks up to gauge your reaction and sees you’re just watching him blankly, cold, emotionless eyes that don’t give away the fact hearing this is making you wanna cry and scream all over again.

“he was conflicted,” is what mingi decides on saying. 

“not conflicted enough though,” you say, a mix of sadness and humor in your tone as you shake your head. “they were still fucking for two months after that.”

“they never fucked,” mingi is quick to clarify. 

you raise your eyebrow and he nods his head as if to say it’s really true, your teeth sinking into your cheek again.

“they kissed and did...other shit,” mingi says, not thinking you wanna hear that wooyoung accepted far too many blowjobs from the girl. “but they never fucked. he said he...couldn’t.”

“wow. what a guy.”

you can’t even try to keep the dryness out of your tone and it causes mingi to press his lips together so he doesn’t smirk, instead looking over your face and frowning when he notices your eyes are puffy.

“i didn’t say that so you take him back or anything,” mingi says quietly, “i just... he told me all of this and i said he had to stop. that it wasn’t fair to you, even if it was just kissing and blowjobs.”

you wince upon hearing it put so harshly, mingi cringing as he realizes he let the details slip out.

“sorry,” he mumbles, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head.

“it doesn’t matter. i’m over it.”

mingi’s eyebrow raises as he looks over your face again, not commenting on the puffiness under your eyes or the fact your hands are pressing into one another anxiously.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you,” he says after a few silent moments, his voice laced with such sadness and sympathy you can’t help but meet his gaze. 

“i told him so many times to cut the shit, that it wasn’t fair and i was gonna tell you. but, really, a part of me felt like it wasn’t my place and i...i really just didn’t wanna make you sad,” he says, his voice and eyes honest and sweet even though you find his words incredibly stupid. 

“i know that’s so stupid,” the boy acknowledges, a dry, humorless tone in his voice. “but i almost...wanted him to get caught, you know? so you saw it firsthand and realized, like, your worth, i guess. even though seeing that would’ve made you sad too, so i... i guess i really just don’t fucking know. i didn’t know what to do.”

and you don’t know if it’s because of his rambling or the absurdity of the situation but you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you, air leaving your nose that has mingi looking at you in surprise.

“you’re right,” you say a smile quirking at your lips that has mingi looking over your face carefully. “that is stupid.” 

“but it’s also stupid to be mad at you, i guess,” you say when he looks down in embarrassment, emphasizing your last two words sarcastically as you sit back on the couch and look him over. “wooyoung was the one who was supposed to be loyal to me, not you.”

“but kind of me, too,” mingi says softly, his arm reaching out to pluck a piece a hair off your shoulder absentmindley. his touch is gentle and warm and his long fingers linger on your skin, the move shocking you as much as it comforts you.

mingi had been touchy and affectionate after just a few weeks of you knowing him, one to pull someone in for a hug or wrap an arm around their shoulder opposed to a stiff, clammy handshake. it was something you liked about him immediately, how warm and innocently affectionate he was.

“wooyoung’s my friend but so are... so were you.”

you watch his fingers rest on the couch cushion next to you as you let out a small, shaky breath, something about his words causing you to look up and narrow your eyes.

“were?”

a pink, dare you say, nervous, blush crosses mingi’s face that causes you to hold back a laugh, his eyes wide as he shakes his head quickly.

“are. you are my friend,” he clarifies quickly, unsure eyes still roaming you. “i just...wasn’t sure if you still wanted to be.”

his stammered words coupled in with his pink cheeks and dark, wind-blown hair have a small smile stretching across your face, a sigh leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him and shrug.

“well, i guess i can’t lose you too, huh?”

you’ve never seen a smile as big as the one that crosses mingi’s face after you say that, his arm reaching out and pulling you into him; the boy really does underestimate his size and strength, though, dragging you right across the couch and straight into his hard body where he begins to stammer out more apologies.

“tell you what,” you say, craning your neck to look up at him. “the next time some asshole’s cheating on me, just tell me right away and i’ll accept these 200 apologies from you, yeah?”

“there’s not gonna be a next time,” mingi promises, his familiar scent and loud, happy voice bouncing off your living room walls. “because i’ll beat the shit out of anyone who hurts you again.”

you roll your eyes as you push him over on the couch, letting out one of your first genuine giggles in weeks as you watch him flop on the cushions like a fish out of water.

and you really think mingi’s what you got through the months that followed that conversation.

because if he wasn’t driving down every few weekends to hang out, you were texting and facetiming almost every hour of the day. 

he helped you through the rest of your senior year, when senioritis hit it’s peak and you all but refused to do any homework or projects. he was the first person you called when you needed motivation (or distractions), talking into the wee hours of the morning or falling asleep on facetime together.

he was also the first person you called when college acceptance letters came in, his deep, happy voice expressing how he knew you were gonna get in.

“and you’re gonna go to the one only thirty minutes away from me, yeah?” he asked playfully, your eyes rolling as you plopped down on your bed.

“yeah, right,” you giggle out, looking over the three pamphlets as you, really, try to consider how to even begin the process of choosing.

that’s another thing mingi ended up helping you with, weighing the pros and cons of each school with you and even suggesting you drive up to him so you can tour the college close to his.

you don’t know for sure but maybe that’s why you ended up accepting that offer, after seeing the beautiful campus in person, the friendly students and ‘spacious’ dorm rooms that looked a whole lot better than two out of state schools you’d have to wait until the summer to see.

but if you asked mingi, he’d say it was absolutely because of him - because now you could see him every day. now he could easily help move you in and bring you lunch and show you the spots off campus where they never check ids or question a bad fake.

and while all of those were certainly helpful, you especially liked that, when classes started up and nearly knocked you on your ass, mingi was there to help you some more.

“you said professors were nice!” you squealed, hitting him in the arm as you two walked into a coffee shop smack in the middle of your two colleges; it’s also the coffee shop you waited pathetically in this past valentine’s day, but you try to let that painful memory slip your mind.

“hey! i’m sorry, most of them are!” mingi defends, his eyes widening and a laugh nearly bursting from his mouth when he sees the five syllabuses you throw onto the table.

“oh? then what is this?”

and sure enough, almost every class lists required textbooks costing over $150, several papers throughout the year, and a strict two-absence policy that will result in a whole letter grade drop if broken.

“and then if we miss because of a death in the family, we have to bring proof! what kind of sick shit is that?” you squeak, arms flying and eyes nearly bulging out of your head; if you were already this fucked after only a week of classes, you don’t even wanna know how you’re gonna be when real work starts.

mingi takes a hold of your arms to stop your flailing, his large, warm hands seeping through the sleeves of your shirt causing you to look up at him.

“babe...you gotta calm down.”

you don’t remember when he started dropping little pet names like that, or when his touches got more frequent and lingered, but you only know it’s something you guys don’t comment on. how, sometimes, both of you can even hear the others fastened heartbeat if you’re close enough or will meet gazes before shyly looking away.

you look up at him with a pout, the teasing smirk on his handsome face making you wanna stomp on his foot.

“i don’t wanna take a picture with my grandma’s corpse,” you whine, knowing that if anyone were watching you both right now, they’d think you were nuts.

“and you won’t have to,” mingi says, an inappropriate laugh bubbling from his mouth that causes you to smack his arm roughly. “why are you hitting me!” he yelps, a soft, amused smile on his face. “i’m trying to help you.”

and because you’re whining and he’s laughing, amused eyes locked on one another while his hands run up and down your arms soothingly, you both miss the fact that someone was around to see you both.

someone watching with hard eyes and a sinking heart at hearing your familiar laugh, at seeing your eyes twinged with amusement and happiness looking at someone who isn’t him.

but he knows he doesn’t deserve to see that anymore. that he ruined that chance with you and he shouldn’t even be surprised that you were able to move on to someone better.

even if that someone was his friend, a fact that’s making his blood boil right about now.

“you good?”

yeosang’s voice pierces wooyoung’s ears the second they leave the coffee shop, a knowing look on the boy’s face as the other can only shrug.

“yeah,” wooyoung says quietly, looking back through the window to see you dragging mingi to the counter by the hand. 

your touches look comfortable and familiar, like you’d spent weeks, or even months, growing closer to one another; he knows that it takes you a while to warm up to people, only letting a select few in - which now probably worsened after the shit he did.

with that knowledge, he also knows that it doesn’t even matter if he wasn’t good (which he’s not, he feels it in the way his chest is aching and veins are burning) because he knew it was a mistake. 

he knew sneaking around and lying to you was leading him down a path that would cost him the best thing that ever happened to him. he was the one suffering without you while you’re, apparently, able to move on.

and evidently, he’s also the one whose always been selfish - hoping that there’s a way you’ll somehow forgive him and see that, even though he wronged you, a part of him still wants you.

and he always gets what he wants.

“y/n, c’mon pleaseeee.” 

it’s the eighth time mingi whined that sentence to you over the phone this week, a sigh leaving your mouth as you smack your hands onto your comforter. 

“mingi, i’ve said the same thing for the past four days! what makes you think my answer’s gonna be any different tonight?”

the first month of school had, admittedly, kicked your ass. 

it wasn’t even that the work was challenging or daunting, you liked what you were learning and you even made a few friends in your classes, but it just feels like you’ve never gotten a moment to yourself since this all started.

if you’re not surrounded by classmates or your roommate, you’re working at the coffee shop you and mingi frequented so much, they offered you a job. but with your roommate gone this weekend and you not on the work schedule till sunday evening, you intended to spend the next two days in bed.

catching up on shows, taking naps in between, taking some time to catch up on reading -  you were only gonna move when your bladder and stomach begged you to, not a tall, whiney man.

“because i’m begging,” mingi sighs, knowing with 100% certainty you’re already curled up in bed with your laptop in front of you. “how many fucking times are you gonna rewatch love alarm?”

your mouth drops open as your eyes fall to the screen, jojo and sun-oh’s faces staring back at yours causing your cheeks to flush; how the hell did he know that first of all?

“until season two comes out,” you whine back, a laugh bubbling out of his mouth before he sighs. you roll your eyes at the sound, pushing yourself to your feet to grab water from the mini fridge. “if you wanna hang out so bad, come over tonight and watch with me.”

“you know i would but i already told people i was coming,” he explains, a pout on his face he wishes you could see in an effort to persuade you (even though you’d probably just curl your lip in disgust). 

“then have fun and enjoy! i’ll be watching sun-oh whisk jojo away and-”

“i know why you don’t wanna go.”

the words die in your throat just as you hear him say that, his voice low and sympathetic that has you poking your tongue into your cheek; he only uses that voice when he thinks you’re about to be upset by something. 

and it’s not hard for you to gather what he’s thinking, given that he wants you to go to your ex-boyfriend’s campus party. 

“if you’re thinking what i think you’re thinking, then you’re wrong.”

because if he has this notion that you don’t wanna run into wooyoung, then yes, he’s wrong. sure, you don’t wanna particularly see him, but it’s been months. you’re over him and you know he’s over you, there’d be no reason to alter your life in hopes to avoid him. 

“what do you think i’m thinking?”

“we’re not doing this, mingi,” you groan, pushing yourself away from the counter and heading right toward your warm bed. “i’m not going for no other reason than i wanna stay in my bed for the next two days. you can come over after if you want but i’m not setting foot in that disgusting frat house. have fun and don’t drink too much!”

and with that, you hang up and crawl under the blankets with a content smile on your face. 

one that drops when you hear a knock on your door thirty minutes later, already knowing by the distinct pattern that it’s no other than the boy you hung up at the start of your episode. 

“that was a quick party,” you say when you open the door, leaning against the frame as you stare at mingi with a raised eyebrow. 

he looks the same way he did during the conversation that rekindled your friendship, his hand toying at the back of his hair and a nervous smile on his face. 

“yeah...” he laughs out awkwardly, the stare he’s giving you causing you to shake your head immediately. 

“you didn’t go, did you?”

“no. i wanted to pick you up first.”

he sees fury cross your face and your arm reaching out to smack him, his hand quickly catching it and pulling you into him.

“c’monnn, we’ll only stay for an hour. and then we’ll come back here and finish love alarm for the 700th time.” 

your eyebrows narrow at you stare up at the boy, so annoyed at him ruining your night you don’t even realize how close your bodies are pressed up against one another. his hard, toned chest against yours that would, without a doubt, make you flush if you realized. 

“please,” he whines, a pout on his face as he tightens his hold on you. “i don’t wanna go alone, i told them i was bringing a friend. and i miss you. we haven’t seen each other in a few days and-

“just shut up,” you growl, pulling him in your room by his shirt because you just know he’s fucking relentless. you close your laptop begrudgingly, throwing him a dirty look before you go to the closet to change out of your sweatpants. 

“you should wear the jeans with the-”

the look you throw his way immediately causes him to stop talking, a smirk crossing your face as you turn away and curse him out in your head for looking so handsome, maybe you couldn’t resist walking in with him tonight. 

but you also couldn’t resist the way your eyes roamed the crowded frat house forty minutes later, the familiar scent of alcohol and sweat invading your senses. 

there’s just as many people as last year when you came, a sticky cluster of bodies that is all too off putting when you were just bound to your bed in pajamas and fuzzy socks. 

you’re also all too aware of the setting that’s giving you flashbacks, beer pong tables and what seems like dozens of pretty girls with dark hair littering the house - it’s making you far more uncomfortable than you care to admit.

“y/n,” you hear a voice say, your neck turning toward the male presence. it takes you a few seconds to remember who he is, attractive features you remember thinking were so regal causing you to smile politely. 

“you should tell him it bothers you,” you hear yeosang say, looking over at the boy with a wide eyed gaze. he says it so straight forwardly that it causes you to grow nervous, biting your lip before you open your mouth to speak.

“what?”

he raises his eyebrow and you know he’s seeing through your lie. the lie that you’re not all bothered by being here and watching him play with another girl. a girl you’re almost positive has ill-intentions. and now you see where yeosang’s bluntness comes in.

“that him and lisa make you uncomfortable,” yeosang tells you, looking over and seeing them smile at one another in victory. “because you’re worried, aren’t you?”

it’s the first time it’s been verbalized and it makes your stomach squeeze painfully, sadness and anger and disappointment flooding through you. 

“should i be?” you squeak, since you know he sees you them a lot more than you.

“i don’t know,” he says, the both of you looking over in time to see lisa smack wooyoung’s arm playfully as she throws her head back. “should you be?”

that was the first and only conversation you had with the boy and yet he hinted more to you than anyone else in your life at the time; granted it was still early in but he had obviously saw something, too.

maybe a suspicious glint in wooyoung’s eye, lingering over lisa despite your presence a few feet away. maybe he could tell you weren’t gonna be enough to keep him loyal, maybe he-

you shake your head of these thoughts, reminding yourself that you’re over this.

you’re over him and the way he made you feel and everything about the whole breakup entirely; why would you want someone who, when it came down to it, didn’t want you back?

“hi, yeosang,” you say with a sweet smile, mingi greeting the shorter boy before someone else pulls his attention away. you let out a sigh and roll your eyes, a deep chuckle leaving the boy who pats the seat next to him.

he’s not surprised to see you but he is surprised that you came here tonight, of all places. where he knows wooyoung is lingering and knows when he sees you, he’s gonna come over with sorrow in his eyes and a voice to match. 

ever since the breakup, yeosang had been the one there for wooyoung. he knew what the boy was doing was wrong, and he felt bad for you, but he also knew wooyoung could do anything and he’d still be there for him.

he could disagree with him and find his actions and decisions questionable but in the end, he’d be there for him. 

that’s why he saw and tended to the breakdown wooyoung went through after everything happened. watched the boy become a shell of the person he’d been,  no longer happy and bubbly and, instead, drowning his sorrows with alcohol when he wasn’t doing the bare minimum for school.

yeosang had to tell him more often than not, with some tough love, that he had ruined everything between you two. and for him to wish that he could talk to you or get another chance was incredibly selfish. 

but through all of that, he was there for him. would stop him from drinking himself into a coma or take him out of the house to distract him any chance he got. 

especially because a few weeks after everything, mingi had started distancing himself. the boys had still lived together until the semester ended in may, but it’d been obvious the boy wasn’t as...tolerant of wooyoung as he was. 

and now he sees why. with the way mingi’s soft eyes are looking at you from across the room, watching closely as you sit down next to him and send a polite smile his way.

“so what, you loved these parties so much you decided to come to school here?” yeosang smiles teasingly, a deep chuckle leaving him when your face turns into a grimace.

you tell him how you go to the school just a half hour away, how it was the only school you were able to tour in person and how, with sinking suspicions, that mingi played a big role in you coming here.

“my roommate is so nice though,” you share with him, a happy smile on your face as you tell him about the girl whose face piercings and dark makeup are a complete contrast to her sweet, soft-spoken personality; you remember thinking when you first met that she was gonna rip your head off, especially because you came in jabbering with an even more excitable mingi.

but she loved him and you immediately and as far as roommates went, you couldn’t be happier. 

“and i work at a coffee shop now. i was a little thrown off the first few weeks but i think i’ve finally adjusted,” you giggle out, a small smirk on his face that you find far too endearing.

“that’s good,” yeosang says before he reluctantly adds, “i’ve seen you working there a few times.”

“oh?” 

your eyebrows pull together as you cock your head to the side in confusion; you’d never seen him in there before. and you think you would’ve recognized him immediately, even outside of this sleazy frat house. 

“yeah, the first week of classes we were there and saw you and mingi,” he says, “then i went back and saw you working behind the counter.”

you don’t comment on the we, because you have a good feeling about who he’s talking about, so you only nod and smile, telling him to say hi next time and you’ll give him a cookie on the house. 

“i know she didn’t just offer you a free cookie,” mingi says, plopping down next to you and throwing his arm around you. “i ask all the time and she laughs in my face.”

“because you come in every day!” you squeal, smacking in the stomach lightly. “they’d go broke and i’d be fired.”

“you’re a grimy fuck to even ask,” yeosang says, a laugh bubbling out of your mouth at the look on mingi’s face. you listen to the boys bicker back and forth as your eyes roam the room, everything about the scene so familiar but also different. 

you don’t feel uncomfortable or nervous for the same reasons you did a year ago, when the music was too loud and the scent was overwhelming and there were just too many people.

now you’re uncomfortable and nervous about just who’s lingering in this crowd, like you’re about to be met with something, or someone rather, that’s gonna hurt you. 

even though you’ve convinced yourself that you’re okay and you won’t care. you won’t care in the slightest if you see lisa under wooyoung’s arm across the room, if you see now that those months really did mean something to them and they were able to prevail.

nope. it won’t bother you at all; in fact, you think two people like that probably deserve each other.

but your roaming eyes say otherwise. the nervous knot in the pit of your stomach and the way you press yourself closer to mingi (in a way he doesn’t comment on but welcomes) says if you see them together, you might lose your shit just a little bit. 

“you good?” mingi asks lowly in your ear, his large hand falling onto your knee. you feel the warmth through your jeans and the indents of his rings against your leg, looking up at him with a forced, tight smile.

“i’d be better if i was in bed like i planned,” you say through clenched teeth, a deadly look in your eye that should make him fearful but just makes him laugh.

“oh, c’mon, aren’t you having fun? you got to see your old friend-”

“yeosang.”

and like the universe was showing mingi just how much fun it was allowing you to have tonight, a voice that makes your blood run cold finishes mingi’s sentence.

your eyes snap to the boy you haven’t seen in over eight months, a face that once made you so stupidly happy with his wide smile and sparkling eyes; you remember when you first met him, you were so confused by the look them. 

why he looked at you so fondly and made your heart flutter even though it shouldn’t have been.

and that’s the exact feeling you’re getting right now, seeing the boy who, the last time you looked at him was crying and begging and desperate, look at you with glossed over eyes and not a hint of a smile.

“hey, woo,” yeosang says, noticing his friend’s lingering gaze and your obvious discomfort; he doesn’t think an atmosphere has ever gotten so tense so fast. 

it takes him a second to stutter out the response “hi,” his eyes moving from yours to mingi’s hand on your leg before back to you. you can’t help the way you quirk an eyebrow at him, almost daring him to say something about mingi’s hands on you before he shakes it off and looks to yeosang.

you only listen to the boys speak as you look down at your feet, mingi’s arm tightening around you when you start to wiggle them. it’s a nervous habit he’s picked up on after these months of getting to know you and, apparently, he’s not the only one who remembers it.

“you do that every time i sit next to you.”

you peer up at the senior who’s insisted on spending lunch with you for the past three weeks, the ever-present teasing smile on his cocky face making your eyebrows pull together.

“do what?”

he nods his head down to the floor where you’re tapping away, toes wiggling in your shoes as the balls of your feet bounce up and down slightly. 

your cheeks flush and you shrug your shoulders, not wanting him to know that, while you’re confused by his company, it doesn’t make you any less aware of how attractive he is. doesn’t make the stupid little crush you’ve developed on him any less intense or you any less nervous.

“oh,” you say quietly, a blush creeping onto your cheeks that makes his teasing smile widen. 

“yeah, oh,” he mocks, his eyes lighting up with amusement you know it’s directed toward you. you narrow yours at him but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest, his foot hitting yours under the table playfully. 

“it’s okay, i think i just make you a little nervous.”

“nervous?” you ask, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head. “why on earth would i be nervous?”

and with a playful cock of his head, a smile on his face that only grew softer and sweeter over time, he so boldly said “because you like me too, don’t you?”

you catch wooyoung looking at your feet and immediately stop bouncing them, putting your right sneaker over your left before looking up at mingi with a small smile. 

“i’m gonna go get a drink.”

“i’ll come with-”

“it’s fine, it’s right there,” you say, nodding your head into the kitchen only a few feet away. 

you leave before mingi can even respond, quickly getting up and scurrying away from the tense atmosphere you know is partially because of you. you need to just get away from all of that for a second, knowing that this was a possibility tonight but didn’t think it would happen so fast.

it’s easy to think you’re over something when you’re not presented directly with it but, now, seeing him makes all those masked feelings come to the surface.

how hurt and betrayed and upset you were by what he did. how you tried to convince yourself that you were over everything simply because you know you deserve better; and while you know that, it still doesn’t quell the memories.

doesn’t stop you from thinking about the nights before he went away to school, the two of you under the stars when he assured you he loved you and didn’t wanna break up with you. teased you for thinking he’d wanna break up with his high school girlfriend when he went off to college.

“i don’t wanna break up,” you whimpered against him, your hands fisting his grey sweatshirt as you hid your face in his neck. he pressed a kiss to your head, bringing a hand to your back as he rubbed up and down soothingly.

“who said anything about breaking up, my love?” he cooed, the term of endearment causing your stomach to swoop. 

“i-i just assumed you wouldn’t wanna be with your high school girlfriend in college,” you say quietly against him. “it would make sense, i guess, so i can’t say i blame you but-”

he brings your face to his as he places a firm kiss on your lips, melting into you as he palms your cheek softly. you kiss him back immediately, feeling your heart break at the thought of never being able to do this again.

“i don’t know why you’re thinking like that,” he mumbles once he pulls back, running his hand through your hair before tucking the strands behind your ear. “but get those thoughts out of your head. i’m not breaking up with you, baby. in case you forgot, i just told you i loved you the other day.”

“i know but-”

“but what?” he asks with a smirk, pushing you down on your back and rubbing the stray tear off your cheek. “you think i just say shit to say it?”

“no, but-”

“then stop. i’ll tell everyone at college i have a high school girlfriend and they won’t have shit to say about it.”

it doesn’t stop you from remembering how much his voice and eyes used to calm you, how, in a setting like this, one look from him would completely put you at ease and make you feel better. 

“y/n.”

you immediately grow tense at wooyoung’s voice saying your name, not having heard it fall from his lips in what felt like forever. 

you’re debating whether you even wanna turn around and look at him again, knowing you can just go on your way and completely ignore him. knowing you should go on your way and completely ignore him.

but instead you turn to him and give him a blank look, waiting for him to say something else before you turn back and rummage through the cooler for a soda. your hand searches through the freezing ice for a red can of coke, the tips of your fingers growing numb as you fish through the water.

partially because you can’t find one and partially because you don’t wanna turn back around and face him.

“you drink now?” 

your neck cranes up to look at wooyoung, his eyes soft and curious as he looks down at you. you hate how your body still responds to him, how he still looks so handsome but also like he lost a little bit of weight. 

you hate how a part of you is concerned about that, wondering if he hasn’t been eating well or is doing drugs harder than pot.

“no,” is all you say shortly, deeming your efforts for a soda useless and shaking the wetness off your hand. your eyes fall to his empty ones and you raise an eyebrow, surprised not to see some sort of can of alcohol near him. 

“i don’t really drink anymore,” he offers after a few silent seconds, your eyes raising to his before mingi’s voice plays in your mind - “wooyoung was so shitfaced the first time they kissed, he didn’t even remember. he didn’t know until lisa showed him a picture.”

“i didn’t really ask,” you say before you can stop yourself, his face falling before a sigh leaves his mouth. 

“i guess i deserve that,” he mumbles lowly, your teeth sinking into your cheek before you turn to leave. 

you begin to wonder why mingi and yeosang let him follow you in the first place before you feel a hand lightly touch the back of your arm, your neck snapping back and arm pulling away when he mutters your name pleadingly. 

“how have you-”

“we’re not doing this.”

“i just wanna talk, y/n,” he says quietly, the sad desperation obvious in his tone. “i haven’t seen or talked to you in months.”

“and why is that, woo?” 

you don’t even mean for the nickname to fall from your lips but it does, twists his stomach in a way that makes him feel even more shitty and defeated and guilty. 

tears prick your eyes as you realize you haven’t said that name since febuary, his own softened gaze on you making you shake your head and take a step back. 

“if we could just talk for a few-”

“we’re not doing this,” you repeat firmly, taking a step away from his looming presence. “i wasn’t even supposed to come tonight.”

“but you came with...mingi?” he asks lowly, like spitting the boy’s name out was the hardest thing he had to do in months. 

but you bet what you had to do over these past few months was harder. 

finish school while also dealing with the heartbreak that comes with being betrayed in such an awful way. building back up your confidence and worth and trying so hard to convince yourself you didn’t do anything wrong. 

that’s why you narrow your eyes at him and shake your head, holding back the slew of curse threatening to leave your mouth. 

“yeah. i did,” you say confidently, your eyes roaming back to mingi to see him making his way over to you. “and i’m sure there’s someone waiting around here for you, too.”

you watch his face crumble and mouth open to speak but you’re quick to shake your head and walk to mingi, rage filling your chest when you feel wooyoung’s warm, strong hand grab you by the wrist.

“y/n, wait-”

“don’t touch me,” you spit out, ripping your arm away from him harshly. 

you can see he regrets the movement the second you look at him but can’t find it in yourself to care, giving him one last look before walking over to mingi - his face, too, is apologetic but much more fearful than your ex’s.

“he said he was going over to-”

“love alarm. now. before i bash your head in and never agree to anything ever again.”

“we’ll pick up snacks,” he says, a hesitant, happy smile creeping up on his face despite your unwavering expression. “my treat.”

“no shit your treat,” you grumble, your hand snaking through mingi’s larger one as you pull him out of the frat house into the cool, fall air. 

it’s the much needed crispness you need after the sweaty, tense air you were just subjected to, you and mingi hand in hand as you walk to his car parked a few blocks away. 

there’s only a few moments of silence before he addresses the elephant in the room.

“did he say something to you?”

you look up to see mingi staring at you with a soft expression, a sigh leaving your mouth as you nod your head. he stops you both from walking, his hand moving to your hip as you two stand in the street.

there’s a soft glow on him cast from the street light, his eyes roaming your face making his heart pang in your chest. he can see your tense and upset right now, your lips rolling over one another like when you’re trying not to cry or scream.

“are you okay?” he asks softly, a question that would usually make you roll your eyes making your face soften; you know the boy has his faults, a little confused and naive and doesn’t always make the right choices, but he always means well.

he truly cares for people and doesn’t like seeing them sad.

“i’m okay,” you confirm with a small nod, a tiny smile pulling at your lips. “i...it’s over now, you know. it’s different seeing him after all this time. harder than i thought, really, but it doesn’t matter anymore.”

mingi nods his head as he squeezes your hip lightly, taking your hand back in his. they swing playfully in between your bodies, a touch that seems very juvenile and platonic filling you with a warmth you don’t think you should be feeling yet. 

you told yourself to wait a year. you even heard somewhere that, for as long as you’ve been with someone in your younger years, you should try to be single for the same amount of time afterward.

take a moment to focus on yourself and ‘soul search’ for the things you want in life.

but having mingi by your side has made that goal harder, or maybe easier depending on how you look at it; especially because his touches linger and make you want more. his eyes watch you so softly and the smile that lights up his face when he first sees you makes you happier than you’ve been in a while. 

“we’re not friends with her anymore.” 

you don’t expect him to say that but it makes your eyes widen. 

because for as long as you guys have discussed wooyoung and the situation, neither of you have ever addressed lisa directly. where she is now or if they remained friends - you told him a million times that you didn’t care.

and even after seeing wooyoung tonight, you want that to still ring true; but again, your actions don’t match your thoughts.

“oh?”

“yeah. a few weeks after that happened, woo refused to be in the same room as her. said it made him sick.”

a scornful laugh threatens to leave your mouth at that, since the last time you’d seen them together, their tongues were down each other’s throats and he was mostly definitely not sick by it.

“anytime we were with her and her friends, he’d leave and say he didn’t wanna be around her. then he just started to avoid us so we eventually just cut them all off. we didn’t really like them anyway, to be honest.”

it takes you a few moments to process his words but it proves to just be too much for your emotionally drained, distraught mind.

“why are you telling me this?”

mingi’s hand tightens ever so slightly on yours as you two continue to walk, his thumb rubbing against your cold skin as the silence remains. 

you can only hear the gravel beneath your feet and the last few cicadas that can stand the crip fall weather, looking ahead in the darkness and wondering if he’s ever gonna answer you. 

“because he’s waiting for you.”

your feet halt and you look up at him, eyes wide and shocked as he looks down at you. you can’t quite make out the expression on his face, maybe something like fear or hesitance that makes your heart lurch. 

“he...told yeosang he wants you to forgive him. and to give him another chance.”

a little bit of every emotion rips through you at this knowledge, rage and annoyance and outrage but also a little bit of sadness you’re not ready to address.

“he’s got balls, i’ll give him that,” you mutter, a smirk quirking on mingi’s lips as he nods his head. he doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything, torn between his lasting bits of loyalty to wooyoung but his feelings for you. 

because over these past few months, he’s wanted nothing more than to kiss you and hug you and make you see you can trust him - not only as a friend but a boyfriend. 

a much better boyfriend than the one you had; but he understands you need a friend and he’s okay with that - more than okay, really. though the looks you give him make his heart pound just a little harder, like when you lean your head on his shoulder during a movie or play with his fingers until you fall asleep on his lap. 

“but...i think there’s better people out there for me,” you say quietly, head cocked to the side as you start to toy with his long fingers. it’s flirty and daring and maybe a little vengeful after your conversation with wooyoung but you also know it’s genuine. 

that the feelings you have for mingi and the way he makes your chest warm is very much so real. 

“don’t you think?”

a smile lights up his face and he has to tell his heart to calm down before it explodes, a knowing glint in his eye as he looks over your face and nods his head. 

“i do think,” he says, tapping you on the tip of your nose in a way that makes you giggle. you watch as he turns and bends down, a smile lighting up your face as you immediately move to jump on his back.

“now what snacks do you want for tonight, little one?”

the next three weekends you’re deemed safe from any college parties, either your shifts at the coffee shop or mingi’s school work keeping you free from his whining or incessant phone calls.

but the second you heard a knock on your door one saturday night, your movie on in the background and popcorn popping in the microwave, something tells you that you’re fucked. that you’ve steered clear of that sticky, overcrowded house for far too long, and it’s like the tall, handsome boy at your door has realized it. 

“you’ve evaded me long enough.”

“sadly, i don’t agree,” you respond dryly, a smirk on the boy’s face as he lets himself in before you can close the door. you let out a groan as he helps himself to your freshly cooked bag of popcorn, throwing the pieces in his mouth as he tells you to get dressed. 

“now why would i do that?” you ask, hands on your hips and a snippy tone already in your voice. 

but it doesn’t deter mingi in the slightest; if anything, it almost eggs him on even more. his eyes squinting before he abandons the popcorn and charges toward you, large hands gripping your waist as he guides you to your closet and tells you to change.

the deep, commanding tone in his voice should make you angry. it should make you roll your eyes and tell him he’s not the boss of you. that you have no intentions of going out and he could either leave or stay for the movie. 

but it’s the contrast of that and the sweet look in his eye that always gets you. how he can be tough and commanding but then cute and playful. 

it’s always what gets that feeling of electric between you, his body looming over yours and eyes staring up at one another challengingly. a part of you always wants to tell him to fuck off but then know you wouldn’t be able to handle the sad, mildly pathetic look on his face. 

“it’s halloween-themed. but no costumes,” he says, tightening his hold on you and toying with the ends of your white t-shirt. “so match with me.”

your hands travel to his broad shoulders, his muscles under your hands affecting you far more than you’re leading on. a part of you wants to feel just how warm and soft his skin is, trail your finger over his collarbone until he groans or warns you to watch it. 

your nails dig into his back ever so slightly, your brow cocked and head turned to the side as you slowly start to step closer to him. his knees hit your bed frame just as you push him back, his butt plopping on your comforter as you stand in between his legs.

“no,” is all you say, a knowing smirk on your face as you watch his eyes flame with something like arousal and disbelief. 

he shakes his head and watches you walk to your closet, throwing himself back on your bed with a silent groan and a plea that, tonight, you don’t push him too much. 

but a few hours into the night, a few too many beers in mingi and your own growing attraction toward him has the night leading in that direction. 

you knew mingi was a good dancer, something you learned at one of these parties last year. it was the only thing that made you smile on those nights actually, watching the boy go from bumping and grinding to jumping around like a kid with a sugar high.

and lucky for you, tonight, he was going with the former. his body placed behind yours, not a stitch of alcohol coursing through your veins, as you guys dance and giggle and and talk to a few people from his classes. 

it’s something very casual, nothing innately sexual about your moves other then your bodies are close and you can feel his groin against you. but you’re both just moving to the beat, your head thrown back on his shoulder as a girl tells you all about mingi’s public speaking skills, or lack thereof. 

“he gets sooo red it’s actually kind of cute,” she tells you, the wink she throws your way making you both share a smirk; because anyone with eyes can see that, embarrassed or not, terrible at public speaking or not, he’s cute. 

“ehh, he’s okay,” you tease lightly, his hold on your waist tightening. you squeal when his cold hand touches the sliver of skin exposed from your shirt, elbowing him lightly before turning around and poking at his cheek. 

“what?”

“i’m okay?” he mocks, the look on his flushed face making you giggle into him. 

“well, what do you want me to say?” you ask, cocking your head to the side in a way you know is gonna cause trouble. but you wanna push him to that point, the excited warmth fluttering in your chest when he looks at you in a way that makes you feel wanted.

you hadn’t been able to see it at first, mingi’s clear affection and liking toward you meanwhile he thinks it was there even when you were with wooyoung; but of course, he knew better than to act on it, watching your smile and laugh from afar and hoping that wooyoung knew how lucky he was.

because he’s pretty sure since the moment he met you, when you came in holding wooyoung’s hand with a small, shy smile on you flushed face, he even wanted you then.

but now, it’s like the roles have switched. now, there’s a very drunken, very pissed off wooyoung standing across the room wishing he could be the taller boy.

he’d been watching you two since the moment you arrived, what sparked the alcohol he guzzled down in a matter of a few hours after he told himself he was done drinking.

yeosang told him to stop drinking beers so he moved to shots and that’s why he’s currently stumbling around and muttering under his breath, already the defeated, shitfaced boy no one wants to be at a public event.

he knows he shouldn’t feel it, the anger brewing inside his chest at seeing you and mingi pressed up one another flirting. but he is. he’s so fucking mad and jealous and seething, it’s only a matter of time before the slightest bit of sanity he has left breaks. 

makes him stomp over and grab you in a way he knows isn’t right. in a way he knows will make you hate him even more; but maybe that’s why he does it. just completely self destructing because seeing you again, and seeing you with someone else, has really put things into perspective for him.

that he’s not the sweet, perfect boyfriend he thought he was and, instead, someone very flawed and toxic. someone who hurt you and is now expecting a second chance solely because he loves you. 

someone who, after seeing his ex girlfriend try to move on and build up her confidence again, ends up stumbling over and grabbing her by the arm anyway. 

one second you’re looking up at mingi and smiling and the next your neck nearly snaps off, looking down at the tight grip on your arm as you hear a familiar voice growl to the taller boy that you and him need a minute. 

you don’t know why or how mingi allows it to happen but suddenly, you’re outside. the cold air surrounding you does nothing to calm your burning veins, ripping your arm from wooyoung’s grasp and pushing him back with all the strength you could muster.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you ask, not even have spotted the boy all night. “i told you not to touch me.”

“i know you did. and i know you hate me. and i also know i deserve that but-”

“no shit,” you snap, taking a step backward and looking the boy up and down who you barely recognize right now. he still looks like the person you once loved but his demeanor is so incredibly different, eyes hazy and bloodshot from the alcohol you can smell on his breath. 

“i miss you,” he mutters lowly, the drunken slur to his words making your stomach twist. “i just...i just wanna talk, y/n and if you still-”

“i don’t wanna talk to you.”

and if wooyoung was sober and in the right frame of mind, he wouldn’t have approached you to begin with. he wouldn’t have dared put his hands on you again and begged you for a second chance like he did that fateful afternoon.

but because he’s a mess, because he’s been a mess for the past several months, he looms over you and keeps his eyes on you as the next words leave him.

“but you wanna talk to mingi?”

“don’t you dare start that shit,” you spit out, every angry, red-hot emotion searing up in your veins - but you’re happy it’s not tears, at least. you think if you cried in this man’s presence again, you’d have to hide away for the rest of your life. “you don’t get to do that.”

“i don’t get to feel jealous that i can’t talk to the girl i lov-”

and similar to the slap you gave him that day, when you walked in and saw another girl in his lap, you can’t stop yourself when you do it this time either. have him taint that word and feeling for you anymore than he did when he lied to your face for months.

“it’s your fucking fault, wooyoung. you did this. you cheated on me and completely proved that that’s not true,” you snap, anger-filled eyes burning into his. “so don’t say that to me.”

“you don’t know what i feel,” he counters lowly, a slur to his words that has you knowing this is not the time for this conversation.” i’m telling the truth.” 

he stumbles closer to you and you’re so focused on staring him down that you don’t see his hand move to your waist. 

“you don’t know how much i fucking regret it. please, baby, if you’d just-”

“get away from me.”

“get away from me,” you say, attempting to rip your hands from his grasp. but he only tightens them and brings you closer to him.

“just please, give me five fucking minutes, y/n, so we can finally-”

“if you just listen to me, maybe you’ll-”

“stop,” you say, struggling to pull your hands free. you need to get away from him. you can’t hear him sound this pathetic and sad and begging.

“stop. let go of me, wooyoung,” you say, voice firm and strong despite how shaky and upset you’re getting on the inside. the familiarity of this scene is too much, his desperate pleas and your building sadness and hurt making a lump form in your throat.

“did you know i was drunk when it first happened?” he slurs out, his glossy eyes looking at you with such pathetic desperation. “i didn’t even know what the fuck happened the next morning. i didn’t remember anything, not even how i got home.”

you swallow down any response regarding the first incident, feeling tears burn your eyes as you shake your head at him; you can see she completely took advantage of him but...

“but what about the time after that? and then the time after that?” you ask, watching as his face falls and you feel heart break in a way it hasn’t in months; he may be telling the truth about the first time but if that really were the case, it wouldn’t have happened when he was stone cold sober on a friday morning. 

“what about those two months after, wooyoung?” you voice aloud, begging the tears behind your eyes not to fall. “were you shitfaced then?”

“no but i-”

“exactly,” you spit out. “you knew what you were doing then. so get the fuck off me and leave me alone.”

“i can’t, please just-”

“wooyoung, stop.”

it’s mingi’s deep voice that pulls you and wooyoung out of the heated discussion, your ex tightening his hold on you and attempting to pull you behind him. 

he doesn’t wanna lose you yet, you’ve been gone for months. even if you’re fighting and even if you hate him, he’s selfish and he needs you. he wants you still. 

“you stop, mingi,” wooyoung growls, a new type of anger flooding through him. he releases his grip on you and stumbles toward the much taller boy, seemingly unfazed by the size difference as he shoves him back.

“if anyone should be pissed here, it’s me. stealing my fucking girl like some little bitch.”

“she’s not your girl anymore,” mingi says lowly, his eyes and body tense as he stares down wooyoung. “if you weren’t shitfaced right now, you’d remember that. and you’d remember why.”

“you’re such a-”

“enough, woo,” you say quietly, the nickname that rendered him hurt three weeks ago when you said it making him snap his head back to look at you; and before you can see his softened, glossy eyes, you warn him to never do this again before you turn to go home. 

you hear footsteps follow behind the whole way, knowing that it’s mingi and knowing that his head is probably trained on his feet right now. you don’t stop walking until you’re at his car in the campus parking lot, leant against the side and looking up at him for the first time in twenty minutes.

he sees unshed tears in your eyes and his face immediately crumbles, about to take you in his arms when you hold out your arm and shake your head. 

“please... don’t ask me to come to another one of these.” 

guilt immediately consumes him and his adams apple bobs, a quick nod of his head before he pulls you into his chest. you sniffle against his shirt and inhale his scent. you couldn’t help in the beginning but compare him to wooyoung, the different smell of his cologne and broader chest under your head. 

it was a good different but you hate that, even after an exchange like the one you and him just had, your mind still goes back to wooyoung; you still think about him and compare them and maybe that’s why you’re crying right now. too 

“i’m so sorry, y/n,” mingi mumbles against your head.

you don’t even realize there’s tears on your face until he pulls back and wipes at them, that broken feeling within your chest so painful it feels like you’re about to collapse. 

“i hate him, i really do,” you whimper out, shaking your head and wiping at your red face. “i...why did he do it? i thought i was over it, mingi. why am i not...” your voice breaks and you shake your head, struggling to breathe and get the words out in the cold air. “i fucking hate him.”

mingi can only hold you and rock you gently, his warm arms never leaving you as he tries to mend your broken heart. it’s something he’s been trying to do for months and will continue to do, wanting nothing more than for you to be free from the damage wooyoung did.

and if it were that easy, he’d be able to look at this moment in a few months time and see this was when his love and affection for you shined through and helped you. helped you see that there are other people who want to help you and be there for you, who will try their best to treat you better than the boy who hurt you.

but, unfortunately for him, things are never that easy.  

you threw yourself into work and school in a way you’d never done before. 

if you weren’t doing study sessions with a few people from your classes or spending nights in the library, you were busting your ass cleaning tables and dealing with overly nice college kids who attempt to make up for the mean and bitter middle-aged. 

true to mingi’s promise that october night, he never asked you to go to another party again; instead, he’d crash your movie nights afterward, only ever staying at the frat house for an hour or two because “they get old real fucking quick.”

but he never says the same thing about your friday and saturday nights, even though they religiously consist of laying in bed, eating junk food and watching cheesy romantic dramas.

so whether you were taking pity on him or your study groups pleas to meet them at a bar down town finally got to you, you were en route with mingi and a far too chatty uber driver for a night of “much needed fun and drinking,” as one of your friends put it.

“i’m kind of scared,” you mumble to mingi, a smile pulling at his lips at your innocent confession. you’ve never been to a bar before, let alone one that is known to serve under age kids and is raided by the cops monthly. 

“i’ve never been here but i’ve heard it’s fun. the music is pretty good and there’s a live band that-”

“are you two a couple?” 

you and mingi eye each other suspiciously, a smirk playing on both your lips at the man’s awkwardly blurted out question. it’s almost as awkward as you saying yes when mingi says no, the taller boy’s face falling as his head snaps to you. 

“wait...i mean...yes?” mingi says, hand going over your mouth as you hold back a giggle. 

you both hear the man laugh out a response, you far too consumed by mingi’s shocked face while he’s still trying to process why the hell you had said that. he can see it’s all teasing and fun though, a glint in your eye that makes it obvious you were only saying that to quell an uncomfortably nosy question. 

but he’s not ignorant to the fact of how much he wants that to be true. 

“why would he even ask that?” you giggle out as you two walk into the bar, not a bouncer or real id in sight. “right in the middle of our conversation, no less. what a weird thing to do.”

a smile creeps up on mingi’s face as he already sees the effects of your three spiked seltzers from back in your dorm, his hand brushing your hair behind your ear. his eyes linger on your pink cheeks and he has to stop himself from laughing, the two of being pulled from the moment just as it started.

“maybe because he thought we looked-”

“y/n!” 

the familiar squeal of your lab partner’s voice causes you to jump, mingi’s body still close to yours as you say hello and introduce them to each other. 

“for tonight, this is mingi, my boyfriend,” you tease, the wink you throw his way causing him to shove you playfully. 

the girl can only watch with a smirk, knowing that when she drags you to the bathroom in 20 minutes because she broke the seal, she’s gonna have to ask you all about that. 

“hi mingi, boyfriend of the night,” she says, the shy but handsome smile he throws her way all too endearing. her hands falls into yours as she beckons you both to the dance floor, dragging you away just ahead enough to ask if you plan on keeping him longer. 

you only roll your eyes and push her playfully, looking back to smile at mingi who’s watching you in a way that makes you think, tonight, you’re finally gonna kiss him. 

or that could just be the alcohol coursing through your veins, another cup of vodka and something, you don’t even know what your friend asked for. but it’s good, cold and sweet and you’re gone enough where you can barely taste the sting of alcohol going down your throat. 

you wouldn’t say you were drunk, courtesy of the huge meal you and mingi had back at your room, but you’re definitely a little tipsy. tipsy enough to dance without a care in the world, not distracted by the big groups of people or much too stuffy environment. 

you were there to have fun and dance, any problems from school work or shitty customers or a lingering ex-boyfriend the last thing on your mind. 

you haven’t seen wooyoung since that october night, when he was far too drunk and far too emotional and made you cry far too similarly like when you first broke up. 

it’s always a sad, hopeless cry, knowing that you shouldn’t still be hurting but feeling it deep within your gut that, whether you want to admit it or not, you still were. you were still hurt by the betrayal of someone you loved so much, even though you wished you could just turn those feelings off. 

and despite all of these feelings inside of you, you’re surprised to learn that, in your impaired state, you’re not a sad drunk yet. you’ve been laughing and smiling and dancing, bouncing your attention between your study group friends and mingi who spotted a few guys from his classes.

which should’ve been the first indication that wooyoung was lingering around this bar. 

he spotted you a few times during the night but knew better than to go over, remembering the last time he saw you, he got a well-deserved red mark on his cheek. he also saw how mingi watched you, a soft fondness in his gaze that hurt him as much as it comforted him.

because he thought you’d be safe with him tonight. that he wouldn’t let you out of his sight or allow you to stumble off to the bathroom by yourself.

but when the several cups hit you all at once, an unpleasant pressure on your bladder, you told the group you were gonna go pee and walked off without any response. it was so fast, one minute laughing and dancing and hearing the pounding music in their ears and then the next realizing you weren’t there. 

“oh...my god, my hair,” you whined in the mirror as you washed your hands, brushing through the frizzy, knotty strands. 

“it looks bea-beautiful!” another tipsy girl smiles, stumbling over to you and holding herself up on the wall. “don’t be silly!”

a giggle bubbles out of your mouth as you look at her in shock, her three friends coming out and praising each other is a similar way. 

it’s an oddly intimate and sweet ten minutes in the girl’s bathroom but it keeps you smiling even on your way out, waving goodbye to them before you turn back around and bump into someone’s chest.

“oh, i’m sorry, i-”

“it’s okay, pretty,” a deep unfamiliar voice says, his voice far too brash and flirty for your liking. you look up to see glossed over eyes and a smirk covering his sweaty face, the faint scent of alcohol and b.o making you queasy. 

“how’re you doing tonight?” 

“i’m fine,” you say, every bit of you now sobered as you watch his predatory gaze. the bar is still pretty crowded but the bathrooms are dark and off to the side, something you hadn’t even noticed in your tipsy state. 

“you here with someone tonight?” the boy asks, eyebrow raised suggestively as he takes a step closer to you. 

you swallow nervously as you nod politely, a tight smile on your face when your heart starts to pound. something innate within you is scared, the dark vacant corner only making you more nervous when your back hits the wall behind you.

“you’re pretty. so i guess it’s a boyfriend, huh?” 

“yes,” you say shortly, wishing you could push him back or or yell or slap him the way you did wooyoung. “so if you’ll excuse me, he’s probably wondering where i-”

but before you can move around the boy, a clammy hand on your elbow pulls you back to the wall. you immediately feel your heart drop into your stomach, panic setting in as your eyes shoot up to the man’s face. 

you don’t like the look behind his beady, glossy eyes and if you can’t get away within the next few seconds, you’re probably gonna scream. 

“now hold up now,” he says playfully, the slur in his words and stale smell of beer on his breath only making this worse. “maybe i’m b-better than your boyfriend,” he hiccups in your face, breath wafting in your face and making it pinch together. 

“i don’t think so,” you hum under your breath, shaking your head as you pull your arm out of his grasp. “so please leave me alone now.”

but he doesn’t. 

“hey, hey, hey, wait,” he says, a crooked smile on his face as he blocks his bigger body with yours. “just give me a chance, yeah? let me buy you a drink?”

your eyes flare and fists clench at his persistence, the way he’s inching closer to you and not taking no for an answer really making you mad. making you ready to stomp on his foot and kick him between the legs.

“c’mon, your boyfriend doesn’t even know you’re gone,” he says, an attempt to sound sly and convincing only making your skin crawl even more. “he’s probably with some other chick. let me show that i’m much better than him, babe.” 

his hand reaches out to touch your shoulder, a clammy thumb running along your bare skin. “he doesn’t know how good he has it if he let a pretty little thing like you walk off alone.”

“i know how good i have it actually,” you hear a voice mutter, one that, up until this very moment, would’ve made you angry or sad; but now, you don’t think you’ve ever been more grateful to hear him. 

you hear footsteps coming closer and each one fills you with relief, the thought that he’s about to kick the shit out of him the least of your concerns.

“so i suggest you take your fucking hand off her.”

your eyes meet the tight ones of wooyoung over the boy’s shoulder, his jaw clenched and gaze calculating as he debates ripping the guy off of you and shoving him against the wall or tugging you behind him.

he goes with both. 

taking you by the hand gently but firmly, your body bumping his as he puts you behind him. and then similar to how you were caged in, wooyoung does the same to the boy an inch or two taller than him; but it’s like neither are even aware of that. 

wooyoung’s body is stiff and rigid, the vein in his neck popping out as he stares down the guy. what freaks the creep out the most is, even by how pissed and dark this psycho is looking at him, his gaze looks...careless. like he wouldn’t even hesitate beating the shit out of him despite the way they’d be thrown out of here in three seconds.

“didn’t know you were real, dude,” the man stutters out, as if that is a good enough excuse to pin you against the wall and harass you. 

and wooyoung must find it absurd too, a scoff leaving his mouth as he cocks his head to the side.

“would it matter if i wasn’t?” he growls lowly, his body hot and angry as he takes his shirt in his hand. he wraps it around it to the point of choking the guy, his body thrashing underneath his hold. 

“get the f-fuck off me you psycho.”

“you don’t like it, do you?” wooyoung asks, a sinister smile on his face as he steps closer to the boy. “being caged in by a fucking lunatic? are you scared now?” 

your eyes widen at the dark tone in wooyoung’s voice, your quiet call of his name falling on deaf ears. he’s too focused on not beating the fuck out of the guy in front of him, his hand tightening as he decides to throw him into the corner of the wall.

you watch the man’s head smack off the wood trim and immediately screech, a chastising call of wooyoung’s name that has him grabbing your hand and heading for the exit. 

you’re about to object until you see he’s only bringing you outside the bar, sitting you down on a bench outside and welcoming the cold night air; it’s mid-november, only a week until thanksgiving break, and it’s unsurprisingly very bitter out. 

he helps you sit down before letting out a shaky sigh, his hands running through his hair like he’s trying to calm himself down and not run back in to finish what he wants so desperately wants to. he’s pacing slightly and you’d be probably be scared if it was anyone else, watching his jaw tick and vein pop in his neck. 

“you’re jeaaalous,” you tease your boyfriend of three months, watching his eyes follow two boys who had talked to you after class; you’d become friendly with them the first day of classes, their bright smiles and funny remarks immediately making you feel comfortable with them.

“no,” he growls lowly, his hand wrapped around your waist the whole time you go to your locker. you bite down on your lip to hide your smile but it does nothing to keep your giggles at bay, your back pressed up against the cold metal as he looks over your face. 

you cock your head to the side and smile teasingly at him, your thumb soothing over the ticking vein in his neck. the feel of it under your skin makes you wince a little because it seems almost dangerous, like his head or neck is gonna explode. 

“no?” you repeat, cocking an eyebrow as he looks at you in disdain. “then what’s this?” 

his hand reaches out to grab yours, quickly interlacing your fingers as his other  rests next to your head on the cool metal. 

“nothing,” he responds dumbly, dipping his head and hiding the possessive flare in his eyes as his next words fan over your ear. “i just don’t like seeing someone with my girl.”

you shake your head of the memory and see wooyoung making his way over to you, the boy slowly kneeling in front of you as he meets your glossy gaze. 

“you okay?” 

you lick over your dry lips, a lump already forming in your throat at his closeness and the softness in his voice. you can tell by his eyes that he hasn’t had a stitch of alcohol tonight, everything about him looking so similar to the boy he was last year during this time. 

before things went to shit and before he started the double life you both still haven’t recovered from. 

you don’t know if you could get the words out if you tried so you can only nod, your cold hands in one another. it feels as if a little bit of everything about the past five minutes has sobered you, fear and comfort and the coldness that should be alerting you to get away from the boy looking at you the way he is. 

but you can’t seem to do that, lips pressing into one another when you feel that lump growing bigger and bigger. you think you stop breathing when he reaches up to cup your cheek, his warm palm on your face for only a few seconds before you let out a shaky breath.

you know this isn’t good. that you and him together alone right now isn’t good. months of telling yourself you hate him and that he should rot before seeing him before your eyes and knowing that a part of you still cares for him. 

“wooyoung,” you mumble warningly, that breaking feeling within your chest knowing you can’t have him touching you. 

his face falls at the same time as his hand, splayed out on your jean covered knee in a way that feels so foreign but familiar. his hands are smaller than mingi’s but there’s something about them that almost makes you feel more comforted, remembering the times like this he would hold you and make you feel better.

made you feel like no one would ever hurt you because he was there. 

“i’m sorry,” he says quietly, his voice deep and full of genuine sorrow. 

but you don’t know what exactly he’s sorry for. for the drunken man, for him touching you, for what he did? you go with the first one, because you’re not ready for the conversation the other two need. 

“not your fault,” you hum quietly, trying to talk through the growing lump in your throat. “just a drunk asshole.”

“not about that,” he laughs out humorlessly, rising from his spot below you and sitting down next to you. he’s close enough to where you can feel the heat radiating off his body but your arms aren’t touching - just a few centimeters separate you. 

“i’m sorry about our last conversation. it...wasn’t fair of me to do that and say anything to you.”

you shiver as a biting gust of win blows past, your arms wrapping around yourself as you simply nod. you can’t really think of what to say. because you don’t wanna say it’s okay, it’s not, but he also seems genuinely apologetic. 

“i’m trying not to drink anymore,” he explains to you, not quite sure how to take your silence and choosing to fill it. you can hear some embarrassment laced in his voice, his eyes trained down on his dirty sneakers. “it’s...caused me nothing but problems.”

caused him to lose you and fuck up time and time again. misplace all of his priorities and transform him into a person who lost his happiness in the span of a few months. 

“i messed up that night obviously, though,” he chuckles out, not a trance of humor in his tone as he meets your gaze. usually it’d be him watching you be nervous but now he can feel the shift in dynamic. that even though you’re still uncomfortable and nervous too, you still have the upper hand.

you can decide right now if you’re gonna start this conversation or tell him to go fuck himself. 

“i’m sorry you had to witness that. i know it was really fucking shitty of me.”

“it was,” you agree quietly after a few silent seconds, wooyoung’s heart dropping in his stomach as he prepares to get his ass handed to him. “but i don’t know if that second slap was warranted.” 

that loud high chuckle you’d always complain was ear piercing bubbles out of his mouth and you can’t help but bite back a smile at hearing it, resisting the urge to giggle right along side with him.

“it definitely was. i was a dick.”

you only shrug your shoulders, something pulling in your chest the more you two sit down beside one another and actually talk. not curse or slur words at each other or put your hands on the other but actually have some sort of discussion. 

“it wasn’t right. what i did.” 

and then just as you were starting to feel good about all of this talking stuff, your heart falls in your stomach and you wanna run from away from this conversation. a part of you doesn’t wanna reopen these wounds but another part of you knows they were never really healed or closed. 

especially not after seeing him again. 

“i can’t even tell you why or what happened because i don’t even fucking know.   i missed you even though we saw each other and talked a lot but...she was just always fucking there. would never leave me alone and i was so stupid to not realize it.”

that’s something he always reflects back on, how you saw something the first day you met her but you both chopped it up to insecurities. 

“and then i think i just started to lie because i loved you. which doesn’t even make sense because you don’t lie to someone you love. but i was so selfish and desperate to keep you. i knew you’d leave me.”

“no shit, wooyoung,” you can’t help but say, the quiver in your voice one you can’t stop as you hear all of this from his mouth. “the first night when she kissed you drunk, you should’ve told me. the fact that you didn’t...makes me thing you knew it was gonna happen again. without alcohol.”

“i didn’t tell you because i thought you’d be mad. i know i would’ve been.”

“i don’t think you’d be mad if someone took advantage of me,” you confess quietly, something you now know was absolutely the case. “but truthfully, it wasn’t even that, woo. you lied right to my face when i asked you in my room that day.”

“we’re just friends,” he says and you bite the inside of your cheek so you don’t scream; you hadn’t said anything like that so why is he telling you that? “she only texted me for the schedule, love.”

you look up to meet his gaze and see a frown on his lips, his eyes trailing over every part of your face. 

“do you trust me?” he then asks suddenly, seeing all of the doubt and hesitation over your face. you immediately nod your head, feeling tears burn the back of your eyes at the idea of starting a fight.

“then why does it seem like you don’t?

“you made it seem like it was me. and that’s why i really tried to fucking hate you,” you confess, voice wavering and watery and you even hear how it sounds like you’re about to have a break down. “being with her was bad and me needing to see that was bad but you...lying like that was worse.”

he swallows the lump in his throat as tears sting his eyes, his jaw clenched and eyes on the concrete so tears don’t fall. 

“a part of me thinks i should hate you,” you say after a few silent moments, wondering if he’s even listening to your words anymore. “but i...” your voice breaks and the cold air stings your watery eyes, successfully (and thankfully) halting your words. 

and whether wooyoung noticed your shivering or saw your eyes, you feel him move beside you before his sweatshirt is placed around your shoulders. the scent of his cologne could make you burst into tears on the spot, the teakwood scent you loved so much further overwhelming you. 

“thanks,” you mumble quietly, his hummed response the only sound between you two for the next few moments. 

the muffled music and chatter from inside the bar could be heard from the street but it seems as if no one is out tonight. just you, wooyoung and the lingering silence that comes with sitting beside an ex who hurt you and an ex you’re still in love with. 

it just so happens that, for you, both of those are still the case. no matter how much you wanna deny it or pretend that’s not the case, him sitting beside you and giving you soft little smiles is making you weaker than you wished. 

you know you should get up and leave, tell him this isn’t a good idea and that you should go back inside to mingi and your friends. but it’s like your brain and your body are at a complete disconnect, welcoming the warm heat from his jacket and the strangely comfortable presence of him beside you. 

“i still love you.”

the wind blows by at the time he says that and, at first, you think you made it up. that your deluded mind is hearing things and you really are just far too vulnerable and upset right now. 

but the when you peak at him, you can tell by the look on his face he’s not sure if he said that either. actually confessed to you in such a way he knows is wrong and unfair but just couldn’t stop because to the core, he’s selfish when it comes to you. 

he always has been.

“i always will. i always did.” 

and when you feel yourself start to break, the tears burning at the back of your eyes coming to the surface, you feel the anger and spite finally leave your body and be replaced with a sad, pathetic version of it. 

“i don’t know how i’m supposed to believe that,” you whimper out quietly, your eyes roaming his face in a way that breaks his heart; your eyes look so sad and defeated, he just wants to pull you into him. “i don’t even know why you’re saying this to me right now, woo.”

but he knows it’s in the way you still call him that with ease, like you don’t even realize you’re saying it and it’s just completely natural, that that’s exactly why he’s saying it. 

that he wants you to see, even though he made a mistake, there’s still something to hold on to. 

“i miss you,” he tells you softly, his voice low in a way that makes you swallow the lump in your throat. “i really fucking miss you, y/n. and i love you.”

“you’re not being fair,” you whimper out, the tears brimming your eyes falling down your cheek as you look at him. that’s when it really hits him how much he hurt you, how much you avoiding him and blocking him out of your life was meant to shield you from this.

“that’s not fair at all, wooyoung. what am i supposed to do? just forget it? believe now that you love me? you said the same thing then.”

“and it was true then,” he says, his tone more desperate and tight. “it was a mistake, y/n. the first time and the times after that. they’re lousy excuses but i’m being honest.”

he reaches out to wipe your tears and you can’t find the energy to pull away, exhaling a shaky breath when his thumb wipes at your face. his touch is gentle and soft and makes this moment even more hard for you, the look on his face making your heart wrench in your chest. 

“please, baby. i know it’d be hard but if we could just-”

“don’t. please.”

you pull your face away and shake your head as you look at him, wiping your wet cheek with the back of your hand.

“you’re not about to honestly suggest we date again? are you out of your fucking mind?”

“no no no. not date,” he’s quick to clarify, his hands up in innocence. “if we could just be friends. friendly. not...avoid each other and argue every time we see each other.” 

he lifts his hands to your face again with a pout on his, swiping both thumbs under your eyes; you notice his own eyes are teary but don’t even wanna think about him crying in front of you.

it hurts you as much as it enrages you, remembering the last time he broke down in front of you. 

“i don’t want you to cry every time you see me,” he mumbles lowly, his gaze looking over your face with such affection you can’t bear to look at him anymore. 

“i don’t...i want...i...” 

“i’m never gonna trust anyone ever again. do you fucking realize that, wooyoung?” you cry, his voice ringing in your head from january, when now you know he had already been with her, asking why you didn’t trust him. “you were with her and turned it around on me and asked why i didn’t trust you.”

“i want you to trust me.”

but he says that like it’s easy. like you can just so easily forget everything and trust him blindly. like he didn’t do anything wrong.

“i don’t know, wooyoung.”

he sees the fear and apprehension flickering behind your eyes, a sigh leaving his mouth as guilt starts to wash over him. he shouldn’t be doing this right now. he shouldn’t be asking you to do this when he’s not even sure you’ve forgiven him yet. 

he shouldn’t be feeling this intense want and need to have you to himself again. 

you both hear the faint sound of the door swinging open but pay no mind to it, too lost in the intense gazes and buzzing air between you two. you know you shouldn’t be considering this just as much as he shouldn’t be asking but here you are, actually considering his words right now. 

“just...think about it?” he offers, eyes glinting with hope and affection that would usually soften you in a second. “i know it’ll take time but maybe we can just try?”

you lick over your cold, chapped looks as you look at him, every part of you knowing you should be saying a big fuck you and fuck no to him. 

“i’ll wait for you again,” he adds, a hint of teasing behind his words as he thinks about your first few months together. him sitting with you every day during lunch and you outright ignoring him for half of them. watching as your confused expressions and sneers slowly morphed into smiles and giggles. 

realizing that, he was right to think you guys were good for each other, because being with you was one of the easiest things in the world when he wasn’t being a fucking asshole. 

“you barely waited,” you grumbled lowly, remembering the events from high school a lot more along the lines of him buying you snacks, asking you to a different movie every weekend and not giving you a moment to yourself during lunch. 

“a whole two months actually,” he says, the amusement in his voice making a sad smile cross your face. he can tell it’s sad by the way it doesn’t meet your eyes and it makes his heart hurt just a little bit, his hand moving to yours so your cold fingertips brush. 

“i’ll wait as long as you need this time. and if you decide you don’t want to be friends...that’s fine, too. i’ll...accept it and never talk to you again.”

you hate the way your heart pangs with hurt at that idea, terrified and embarrassed by how fast things changed in three months. how three months, you never wanted to see him again and now the prospect of that is physically paining you.

but could you put yourself through this? should you put yourself through this? he could be lying again. he could just be-

“y/n?” 

mingi’s deep voice pulls you from your thoughts as you jump at the sound of him, your eyes meeting his confused, cautious gaze before quickly snatching your hand away from wooyoung; but it’s obvious he already saw how close you guys were, on top of the fact his sweatshirt is wrapped around your shoulders. 

“you okay?” mingi asks as he looks at you, his gaze shifting to wooyoung and hardening every so slightly. “why are you upsetting her? haven’t you done enough?” 

“mingi, it’s-”

“some drunk asshole was harassing her because someone let her walk off alone,” wooyoung says to the boy, standing from his spot next to you and walking over. it’s at that time your friends come out and their eyes light up upon seeing you, quickly rushing over and dabbing at your red, damp face. 

mingi and wooyoung continue to have a stare down as you’re bombarded by drunken coos and sticky hands, the taller boy watching you carefully before wooyoung clears his throat. 

“guy said she had a boyfriend but that’s not the case, is it?” wooyoung says, the shift in him to being conniving and mean at the way he sees the boy looking at you. “no matter how much your bitch ass wants it.”

“fuck you,” mingi spits out, “you don’t deserve to even speak to her after what you did.”

“you don’t deserve to give me advice after you tried to swoop in and steal her.” 

“she’s not something to steal, asshole. i’ve actually been there for her, wooyoung,” mingi says, his tone deep and gruff as he resists the urge to thrown him up against the wall. “watching her cry and get through the shit that you inflicted on her.”

the words effect him just as much as mingi wanted them too but he’d never let the boy know that, instead narrowing his eyes and shoving the boy backward. 

“our shit’s between me and her so maybe fuck off for once and leave her alone,” wooyoung says, popping his neck to the side as he watches mingi’s jaw tighten. “look like a pathetic little puppy following her around.”

“more pathetic than pining after someone you cheated on? you know you fucked up and now that she’s moving on, you’re pissed.” 

“who the fuck said she’s moving on you-”

“mingi, we’re gonna go.”

it’s your soft voice that breaks up their lowly growled conversation, wooyoung’s dark eyes changing as he turns back to look at you. you hold his gaze for a few seconds before meeting mingi and the boy can’t even lie in saying it hurts how much more comfortable you seem looking at him. 

wooyoung can barely hear mingi mumble his response, letting out a groan when the taller boy shoulder checks him and says “they’ll see him around.” the boy bites back a snarky comment as you meet his gaze again, flickers of hope and confusion and fear in your gaze. 

he can only assure you with a soft smile and hope that you really see he meant every word he said. 

“i couldn’t even tell if he meant it, you know,” you tell mingi on the walk home, wooyoung’s sweatshirt still hanging from your body. 

the walk from the bar to your dorm is only about twenty minutes, you and mingi’s hands bumping clumsily as you walk down the main road. 

“like he seems sorry and he just said we’ll be friends. but i can’t....actually trust him again. what he did was wrong and i can’t just forgive him.”

mingi’s been quiet during your rant for the past few minutes, only the occasional hum or nod assuring you he’s even been listening. but it’s when you crane your neck up to look at him you see his face is...unusual. 

expressionless, almost, in a way you never see on the usually happy and smiley boy. 

“mingi? are you okay?”

“hm? yeah, i’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head before his arms bumps into yours. 

your eyebrows pull together in suspicion, about to ask him if he’s even been listening before he beings to talk again. “do you actually feel that way, though? that what he did was wrong and that you can’t forgive? or do you just think you should feel that way?” 

“i-” 

the question strikes you more than you thought it would. because the answer seems obvious - you shouldn’t wanna forgive him. you should know what he did was wrong, know it in the way loyalty and trust is such a crucial part to relationships.

but forgiveness is where that line gets blurred for you. 

hearing him and seeing him look and sound apologetic was hard. thinking back on your relationship and remembering how good you guys were together was hard. trying to put yourself in his situation, although you’re not sure you would’ve been in it in the first place, was hard. 

and it’s not like he’s asking you to trust him and be his girlfriend again. 

you’re just gonna...slowly repair your relationship again, right? but when you utter that thought to mingi, his feet stop moving and he looks down at you with an unconvinced expression. 

“you say that, y/n, and i wanna believe you,” he says, his hand toying at your fingers as he tries to remain gentle and calm. “but...i don’t know. you guys looked...”

the softness and affection was obvious, the possession and love behind wooyoung’s eyes matching your soft but fearful gaze was eye opening. 

if he didn’t know any better, he would’ve seen a couple making up from a fight. a happy, loving couple who was able to get past a hardship in their relationship and would be able to thrive again. 

“what?”

“you guys looked like you were...together. i thought i interrupted something,” mingi says honestly, remembering how you jumped away and your hands and face followed. “kind of seemed like you guys were gonna kiss.”

“mingi, that’s definitely not-”

“and look, if that’s what you want, that’s fine. but, please, y/n. you have to be careful. you can’t forget how much he hurt you and really have to consider if he’s being-”

and maybe it’s because you just wanted him to stop talking about it. or because your mind is muddled and confused and still swirling with the effects of alcohol and the tension with wooyoung. or because, underneath all of this drama, a part of you also has come to like mingi.

or at least, the comfort and feelings of affection and desire he gave you. he’s been there for you since the beginning and after a few months, you always thought this moment was gonna happen. you just didn’t know when. 

you didn’t know when one of you was gonna grow the balls to kiss and see what happens after that. 

it takes him a few seconds to respond before you feel him kiss you back, lips parted and his hand in yours moving to your hips. he pulls you against him the more you kiss, like you’re pouring every emotion you’ve experienced tonight into him while he’s pouring every emotion he’s held back for months. 

he just doesn’t know that at the time. 

he just knows that you pull back and smile at him in such a pretty way, a blush on your cheeks and glint in your eye as you tell him you really are only considering a friendship with wooyoung. 

but you go home that night not thinking about the kiss or mingi’s sleeping body beside you. you go home thinking about how nice it feels to be wrapped in wooyoung’s familiar scent and jacket.

almost like, when you close your eyes, you can pretend the body next to you is his. 

truthfully, you didn’t know how that kiss was gonna effect the dynamic between you and mingi. you didn’t know if things were gonna be awkward or different or if now all of the expectations changed. 

but even that night when he dropped you off, and stayed for a sleepover which was not unusual, you curled up in bed with a bag of chips and your laptop as you each shared a headphone.

and nothing felt different.

you two just went along with your usual relationship, not even mentioning the kiss until it became something that happened a day ago. then a week ago, then two weeks ago, then over a month ago, until it kind of seemed like something you guys were never gonna talk about. 

but school and work kept you both busy anyway, the last few days before christmas break full of studying for finals, finishing projects and dealing with the holiday rush of customers stocking up on sugary desserts and espresso shots.

among those customers in the coffee shop was wooyoung, the boy coming in three times a week for his usual order of black coffee and a chipotle chicken club. 

at first, you could tell the remnants of your conversation outside the bar were lingering. you were both apprehensive, his eyes guarded and voice overly polite every time he ordered or thanked you. 

you kept up your professional attitude but still felt that familiar feeling of nervousness bubbling in your stomach, torn between giving him another chance as a friend or saving yourself the possibility of getting hurt again.

but it was in the little things he did over the weeks of him coming in that eventually wore you down. 

when a particularly unpleasant customer gave you shit, he was quick to jump in like a ‘good samaritan,’ share a not-so-nice few words that had you biting back a smile and instead telling him it was okay. 

he always ordered two drinks by accident, his black coffee and an iced coffee that would sit on his table for a few minutes before he came back over to you and your coworkers claiming he didn’t need it anymore. 

but he knew it was your favorite drink and he could tell you needed a pick me up, working well into the evening until the sky fell dark and streets grew empty. 

which brought him to his current predicament, the last person in the coffee shop while you closed up alone on the not so decent side of town; he noticed you closed alone on thursdays and it never sat right with him, watching it happen for two weeks before deciding he wasn’t gonna allow it anymore. 

“hey, we close in about ten minutes. can i get you anything else?” he hears you ask, his head snapping up from his phone. there’s a rag in your hand and a small, polite smile on your face, looking him over warily.

“oh nah, i’m good,” he says, a shake of his head and a small laugh leaving his mouth. you purse your lips to the side and nod unconvinced, going back to the counter to finish cleaning. 

you let out a small sigh when you realize you forgot to text your roommate to come pick you up, your car in the shop and god knows how much money down in your back account. but before you can even get to her contact, you hear wooyoung coming your way. 

“thanks again, y/n, ” he says, gesturing to his empty cup of coffee in hand. 

“you’re welcome! have a nice night, wooyoung,” you smile politely. 

you think that maybe saying his name over and over will remind you of what he’s done to you, halt the stupid butterflies in your stomach that erupt every time you see him enter the coffee shop or catch him looking at you.

he smiles but doesn’t respond, only looks you over before looking out the window and then back at you.

“so, how’re you getting home?” 

you press your lips together as you now realize why he’s been lingering tonight, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him; he must’ve noticed your car not in the parking lot before.

“i was wondering why you were lingering,” you mumble, a chuckle leaving his mouth that makes a small, uncontrollable smile pull at your lips.

“knew you were on to me,” he quips playfully, winking as he goes over to the garbage and throws out his cup. “lemme drive you home.”

“i was gonna call my roommate to get me, it’s okay,” you insist, wiping out your phone again and scrolling to her name. you hear his footsteps approach you again, his hand reaching out slowly before gently falling onto your arm.

and even though you heard him, you still jump at the contact, what feels like an electric shock zipping through your skin you know is all in your head. 

“c’mon, y/n, that’s not necessary. i’m here,” he whines slightly, eyes pleading and soft with a smile you’re trying so hard to resist. you lick over your dry lips and narrow your eyes slightly, letting out a sigh when you can tell he’s not letting up.

and it’s late. it’s so late and you’re tired and still have two papers to finish and edit tonight. you might as well, right?

“fine.” 

he smiles happily before guiding you to the front door, watching you lock up before you silently walk to his car. he opens the passenger-side door and you give him a strange look, never having seen him do that before, before thanking him. 

the car ride is quiet and awkward and cold for the first few minutes, you softly giving him directions before he turns on the heat and you sigh in relief. he side-eyes you as you put your hands to the vent, relishing in the hot air on your cold skin and he can’t help but smile at the sight.

“hands are still like icicles, i see.”

you look over and see the smirk on his face, probably remembering how when things were different, you’d warm your hands up on his skin despite his screams. sneak your hands under his shirt when you’d star gaze at night or hold onto his arm and giggle as he begged you to take them off him but never made any move to get them off. 

“always,” you say shortly, a slightly strained but breathy giggle leaving your mouth that makes his heart pull in his chest. 

the quiet hum of the car surrounds you both for the next few moments, an unspoken tenseness in the car from the reminder that, last time you were alone, he said he still loved you and you had a breakdown. he begged to be friends again and you left him without an answer. 

an answer that’s now lingering between you two, trying to decide if this is gonna be something that’s able to be repaired in some way or you’re both gonna let the fond memories and old feelings die out.

you can’t even lie and say you weren’t going back and forth about it some nights, when your bed seemed too cold and memories were playing and, for some reason, your thoughts of mingi weren’t enough. 

but you were terrified. every part of you was terrified to open this relationship back up just to possibly be hurt again. put your time and effort into him and make more memories that could potentially be tainted again. 

you suppose that’s a risk with any relationship though, because mingi hurt you too and look at you two now; you don’t think your friendship with him has ever been stronger. 

you let out a sigh as you wrack your brain, so lost in thought and the building ache in your temples that you’re barely able to hear wooyoung call your name. 

“y/n?” he repeats, smiling softly when you look over at him in a daze and hum lowly. 

“you good?”

“y-yeah,” you stutter, cheeks flushing a warm pink that wooyoung’s always sworn is the cutest thing about you. even more cute than when you stutter over your words or lick over your lips when you’re lost in thought.

“i...i was just thinking...” you continue a few moments later, your heart saying fuck it because your brain seemed to have lost this battle a while ago.

“about?” wooyoung prods gently, looking over at you as he stops at a red light; he can see your apprehensive, your quietness and shifting eyes one of the telltale signs. 

“about...what we talked about the other night,” you say, peering over to see him watching you patiently, softly, so much like the way he’d watch you in the beginning. 

“about trying to be friends.”

his eyebrow raises and he can feel a lump already forming in his throat, the smile he puts on his face one to disguise how fucking nervous he just became. because he was serious, no matter how selfish he’s realizing he is, if you tell him you don’t wanna be friends, he’s gonna respect that.

no matter how much it’ll pain him. 

“and?” he asks, tightening his hand on the steering wheel when his eyes fall to your lips; watching as your tongue swipes over them before meeting his gaze again. 

the look in his eyes makes more butterflies erupt in your stomach, a soft intensity that momentarily makes you forget everything he’s done; it also might be responsible for the next words that leave your mouth.

“i...think we can try.”

and you didn’t know it at the time but that was that sentence that sealed your fate for the next two months, mirroring the happy smile wooyoung throws your way as your heart lurches in your chest.

his hand twitches to take yours in his but he knows that’d be absolutely inappropriate so he only grips the steering wheel tighter, thanking you softly and promising that he’s not gonna fuck this up. 

and for the next week, he doesn’t; you two fall into a schedule you would’ve never anticipated at the beginning of the school year. 

he comes in a few hours before your shift ends, studies for finals with cups of coffee and desserts until he’s the last one in the building with you. he helps you clean and close up, his signature high-pitched laugh echoing through the empty walls when you smack him with a rag or yell at him for trying to steal another cookie. 

he brings you home every night, your finger tips colliding as you warm your hands with the vents and smile shyly when the sensation from your skin meeting zips through you. 

it’s a dark and clear night tonight, what seems like darker than any other december night, and there’s hundreds of stars in the sky. it’s something you both notice but don’t have the hearts to comment on, both of you catching the other peeking out the window or admiring the sight above you at a red light. 

you bite down on your lip when he catches you, a blush creeping up on your face before you stutter out a question. the first one that comes to mind.

“you excited to be going back home?” 

the smirk on his face is so obviously teasing but you don’t have the stomach to be snippy right now, grateful when he decides to play it nice tonight and answer without calling you out. 

“how ‘bout you? your parents must be so happy.”

“they are. not happy that i’ll be using their car all break but i think they’re still happy,” you giggle out, wooyoung looking over at you an eyebrow raised.

“it’s still fucked?”

“yeah,” you sigh out with a shrug. “it’s okay though, it’ll definitely be fixed by the time i’m back for the spring.”

“that’s true but then how are you getting home tomorrow?” 

and that’s how you ended up driving home for christmas break with wooyoung, his pleas, your apprehension, your parents confusion and mingi’s utter disapproval making the trip a very questionable one. 

but it had made sense, you guess, saving your parents an hour drive to a destination wooyoung would be going to anyway. 

“y/n, are you sure you’re okay with this?” mingi had asked, sitting atop your bed as you folded your clothes into a suitcase. you noticed the way the smile fell from his face when you told him, your stomach twisting as something that strangely felt like guilt began to surface. 

but you shook it off and smiled softly at the boy, insisting that an hour with him would be okay. 

“he’s been coming to work and driving me home every night this week, mingi, and i haven’t had a breakdown yet. it’ll be fine.”

the boy doesn’t find your comment assuring in the slightest, narrowing his eyes at you and feeling something pull in his chest. he doesn’t think you’ve realized how much you’ve drifted this week, small things that maybe he’s being too sensitive about or thinking too much into it. 

but he’s wondering why you never asked him for a ride. or why the texts you’d usually send him about rude customers or funny co-workers have dwindled this week. he’s wondering why, for some god forsaken reason, your eyes are brighter and there’s a look on your face that just seems happier. 

ignorance is bliss though and that’s why mingi just nods his head at you and opens his arms, smiling into your hair when you agree to take a quick 30-minute break for an episode that turns into almost three hours of cuddling and giggling.

“that’s not what happened at all!” you squeal, hitting wooyoung in the arm as he incorrectly recounts meeting your parents for the first time. 

“there’s no way i did that!” he says, his lips quirked up and a laugh bubbling in his chest.

“you literally did! i almost died, that’s how i remember so well,” you screech, never forgetting that the first time you introduced a boy to your parents over dinner, he patted his lap and told you to take a seat. 

wooyoung bursts out laughing the same way he did then, your mom looking at you two half in amusement and half in shock while your dad didn’t miss a beat and patted his lap for his wife in return; you were both pink in the face and smacked their arms playfully. 

“your dad always liked me, i never understood why and now i certainly don’t.” 

you bite down on your lip to control your growing smile, the two of you sharing memories the whole ride down. 

it’s probably the worst thing to do at a time like this, where you’re both back in familiar settings, with a hundred different reminders and memories of one another. where you now only have each other and an old group of mutual friends with way too much free time you don’t know what to do with. 

“you were funny i guess,” you tease lightly, a small giggle leaving your mouth when he side eyes you with mock annoyance. “remember when you got him the toilet golf for christmas?” 

wooyoung throws his head back in laughter again and you both giggle and squeal for him to keep his eyes on the road, hitting him in the arm playfully as you tell him it’s still in his bathroom to this day.

“he’s probably real good now, too,” wooyoung says with a wink, the roll of your eyes making him bite back a smile of his own. “what’re you guys doing for christmas this year?” 

you share holiday plans for the remainder of the car ride, telling him that you’ll be going to your aunt’s a few hours away from christmas to new years day. there’s only about five minutes left until you’re home when wooyoung’s next words stir you into shock.

“maybe we could hang out when you’re back. go ice skating or something.”

you press your lips together as you look at him, his face relaxed and eyes on the road like the suggestion had been the easiest thing in the world. you don’t know that, internally, he was kind of freaking out. hoping he didn’t just back track all the progress you guys have made, just within this car ride even. 

ice skating was something you guys did last year together, your hand in his before you promptly fell on your ass but he saved you every time. you were still newly dating and it was all very sweet and pure, cheek kisses and awkward fumbling which were the telltale signs that you were a new couple in the honeymoon phase. 

“i....” 

the words seem caught in your throat, knowing you wanna say yes because friends ice skate. friend hang out like that, this shouldn’t be a new concept to you. 

he can sense your apprehension and quickly meets your gaze, his face falling before he’s quickly shaking his head. 

“only if you want to,” he smiles softly, an uncharacteristic shyness on his face and in his voice. “if you’re bored and got nothing else to do, ya know.” 

not because he desperately wants to be with you during this break. not because hanging out with you this past week has been the happiest he’s felt since almost exactly a year ago. 

“no, yeah, sure. that’d be nice,” you eventually stutter out, a smile breaking out across wooyoung’s face that calms all the anxiety and tension in your body. you can feel this attachment is wrong and unhealthy but it’s like you have no control over it anymore, blinded by him and the memories and the way he makes you feel. 

the way you watch his car drive off after he walks you to the door, already buzzing with excitement for your...friendly outing with wooyoung in the next few weeks. 

the holidays pass as quickly as they came and soon enough, you’re running around your room picking the finishing touches on your outfit as wooyoung is set to arrive in a few minutes. he had called you this morning after he woke up, telling you to dress warm and that he’d see you later tonight at six. 

you hear your door bell ring and your eyes widen, moving to the clock to see he’s, surprisingly, five minutes early. you deem your matching boots and jacket good enough, running down the stairs and to the door. 

you’re only faintly aware of the fact you can’t see his head through the top glass window the way you saw mingi’s when he came to your house last winter, shaking the memory from your head and smiling when you see wooyoung standing there with a cup of hot chocolate.

“hey b...y/n,” he smiles, his heart pulling in his chest so much he almost slipped up and forgot you’re only friends. but you just look so pretty and this feels a lot like a date, his stomach twisting and heart pounding in such a foreign way; he hasn’t been on a date since...

“hi! thank you, woo,” you smile softly, taking the cup from his hand and ushering him inside quickly. “just gotta find my keys. my parents are still at my aunts.”

“was hoping to see your dad, ask him about his golfing skills,” wooyoung teases, not coming to terms with the true anxiety and shame he feels knowing the older man definitely knows what he did to his daughter.

but if he does, you don’t make any indication of it; only smile at him and nod your head toward the couch, telling him you’ll be ready in a few minutes. he goes into the living room and smiles upon seeing your christmas tree light up with white lights and homemade ornaments. 

your house smells of vanilla and the fireplace is crackling, a perfect warm contrast to the cold, biting weather outside. he plops down and watches the fire crackle, the heat warming his face and making him lean back with his eyes closed. 

the warmth of the fire makes him melt further into the couch, sinking back into the comfortable couch until it almost feels like he could fall asleep.

you walk back in a few moments later and see the sight before you, your eyes widening and heart lurching because fuck. he has no right looking like that, sprawled out handsome and relaxed on your couch with the soft fire glowing on his face. 

your eyes rack down his body quickly, his eyes closed and legs spread, head tipped back against the couch in a way that looks like he... you have to shake your head out of the daze, your own cheeks flushing because you feel like an absolute gawking pervert right now.

even though you’re painfully aware of how long it’s been since you last...

you shake your head again and make you way over, his eye peeking open upon hearing your footsteps, your pink cheeks and wet lips making him swallow and twitch in his seat; you look so fucking pretty tonight.

“hey,” he smiles, voice gruff and low as he looks you over. “you look nice.”

“you too,” you smile softly, your eyes moving from him to the roaring fire. “do you like it?” 

but his eyes are still on you, roaming your body in a way that has his cock straining in his pants. he’s missed you and fuck has he missed those parts of you, too. he can see something behind your eyes but he’s not sure if it’s just his own lust creeping up on him, a hunger that he never thought he’d see again from you.

“like what?” 

his voice is deep and gruff and sounds so rough, you have to stop the shudder from going through you. you can only swallow the lump in your throat, trying to ignore the sensation ripping between your legs as you look at him watching you. 

with eyes so dark and lustful you can only hope that your own desire isn’t imagining it, staring back at him as you lick at your dry lips and remind yourself to breathe.

“th-the fire,” you say nodding your head toward the flames he was entranced by before. “do you like it?” 

“oh,” he laughs out, the lump in his throat and growing arousal far too much right now. “yeah, i do. it’s nice.” 

you nod your head as you look down and play with your fingers, bag hanging from your shoulder as you watch him from the middle of the room. the air is thick and the room feels 100 degrees, your heart pounding in your ears as you hear the whipping wind outside. 

that’s where you guys should go right now. in the cold. around people. not alone in a hot space that’s only getting more and more tense.

“i...should we go or?” 

he looks from you to the window to the fire and then back to you, a small pout on his face as he leans himself back on the couch. “five more minutes? it’s so fucking cold out and this is nice.”

you almost wanna say no because the tension is too thick right now but you also don’t know if you could move if you tried, nodding your head as a quiet “sure,” leaves your mouth. 

the room is silent and you’re looking at him while he’s watching you, the need to swallow becoming more and more prevalent before you cock your head to the side. 

“is it really cold out? should i wear something heavier?” 

you know you don’t have to. this is your heaviest winter jacket, you just need to say fucking anything before you do something you might regret. or not regret at all, anything to feel relief and remember the way his lips feel against yours. 

“no, that should be fine,” he says, smiling as he looks over your outfit and face again. “you look good. really good.”

a shy smile crosses your face and you feel a blush creep up on your face, looking down at your boots that may or may not be new. 

“thanks. so do you,” you say softly, meeting his gaze and biting down on your lip when he smiles teasingly at you.

“is that why you’re all the way over there?” 

your eyes narrow and breath hitches and you almost think he knows how much he’s effecting you right now. how long it’s been since you’ve had any sort of contact with another person that wasn’t completely platonic or pure. 

“shut up,” you mumble, taking a few small steps toward the couch but still keeping your distance. he raises an eyebrow almost challengingly and that’s when you feel yourself growing more suspicious, cocking your head to the side as you blatantly look him over.

you watch him roll his tongue over his lips before looking into the fire place, that familiar tick in his jaw and neck making you smirk before feigning innocence again. 

“you really like that, don’t you?”

his eyes raise to you, not a trance of teasing or amusement on his face as he look at you. it’s all dark and lustful and you don’t know where this is all coming from but it’s creeping up on you fast. 

“the fire, i mean,” you add, nodding your head toward the furnace again. 

his eyes narrow and jaw clenches, your teeth sinking into your lip to stop the smirk from creeping back up on your face; but it must not help completely because you watch a different sort of look cover wooyoung’s face.

one you haven’t seen in a long time.

“a lot of smart ass remarks for someone who’s standing across the room,” he bites back, eyes widening and cock twitching when you shrug your shoulders and are suddenly standing right in front of the couch. 

you can only look down at him with a small smirk on your face, eyebrow’s raised as if to say now what are you gonna say? but you should know by now that wooyoung is almost never speechless or action-less, spreading his legs out on the couch just a little bit more before a teasing smile crosses his face. 

he repeats the actions he did that first day meeting your parents, tapping his lap  again as he licks over his lips and tells you your seat is still here. he knows it’s a risk and so do you but it doesn’t stop you from looking over his body, everything in you screaming that if you do this, there’s no going back. 

you’re gonna be back to where you were months ago, caught in a cycle of worry and fear and all-consuming emotions, something dangerous and draining when a person like him knows they have power over you.

but right now, after the past three months of going back and forth with him and sorting through your emotions, you just wanna forget everything. turn your brain off for a second and do something, anything, that’s gonna make you feel something other than sadness and anger and confusion. 

“come here.”

the command is gruff and deep and makes your lower stomach swoop, your fingers falling to zip off your jacket before your bag lands on the floor with a plop and you’re straddling your cheater of an ex-boyfriend right on your living room couch.

your lips collide and he groans at the same time you moan into his mouth, a mess of open-mouthed kisses and tongues that feel so pent up and natural, it’s like neither of your brains are on. 

when you move against him and feel his hard cock under you, it only spurs you on to do it more. press your body into him and wrack your fingers through his hair. 

he growls into your mouth and places his hands on your hips, his finger tips digging into your shirt as he disconnects your lips for air and travels down your neck. 

his kisses are wet and sloppy but you throw your head back anyway, every part of your body burning and begging and aching to be touched by him. and it’s like he knows it, he still knows every part of your body better than you or anyone else in the world, sucking a hickie into your neck as his hands cup your ass. 

“jesus christ, y/n,” he growls into your skin, your eagerness and closeness and warm body against his making all the blood go right to his cock. you can feel it pressing harder against you and let out a whine, pulling his face away from your neck so you can crash your lips against his again. 

it’s a flurry of kissing and sucking and biting, your own hands ripping your shirt over your head before wooyoung’s face is in your chest and sucking hickies onto your skin. you lean your head back and let out a whine, your hand tightening in his hair before you push him back and pull at the bottom of his shirt. 

he can only smirk at the pout on your face, pulling you into him and placing a kiss on your cheek. “still so fucking good for me, aren’t you?” he hums lowly, waiting until you nod for him to pull his shirt off and place a smack on your ass. 

it echoes through your empty house and you let out a whine, pushing yourself against him before he takes your face in his hand.

“and you’ve only been good for me still, right?” he asks lowly, his voice deep and possessive in a way you’ve never heard before. it sends butterflies right through your stomach and in between your legs, wetness pooling in your underwear as he tightens his hold on you. “no one else has fucked you, right?”

and you know that should be the tipping point. 

you know you should rip yourself away from him and slap him again, ask him why the fuck that matters when you know for a fact he’s been with someone else too. he’s been with someone while lying to you and acting as if everything was okay. that you were never indebted to him after the breakup and you still aren’t now. 

but instead, you shake your head and look at him all wide-eyed and glossy, your breathy “only you have fucked me,” making him growl before flipping you over and ridding you from the rest of your clothes. 

he falls to his knees before pulling to the edge of the couch and devouring your dripping pussy, his tongue lapping at you in a way that makes you scream out and push yourself against him. your stomach is tightening and legs are shaking and you can’t stop the moans that are leaving your mouth, repeating his name like a mantra as he slips a finger in.

“oh god, baby,” he growls against your wetness, your hole so tight around his finger he can’t wait to be buried inside of you. 

“let- let me ride you,” you beg despite the way you’re still pushing yourself on his face. it’s a pleasure you don’t ever want to stop but you also wanna feel him inside you, missing so desperately what it feels like to be full of his cock. 

“ah, ah, you gotta come on my tongue first,” he demands lowly, curling his finger inside of you and making you cry out. “you’ve been such a good girl for me. don’t get bad now.”

“b-but i wanna-”

he sucks your clit into his mouth and you scream out, legs shaking and hips bucking into his face before your orgasm hits and you’re shaking against the couch. 

you barely have time to catch your breath before he lifts you up and pulls you on top of him, guiding you over his cock before you sink down on him and you  both moan out at the same time. 

“oh my god,” you whine out at the same time he grunts “fuck,” your movements slow and easy as you adjust to his size in you. but once the slight sting has dulled and he feels you relax slightly, he pulls your face to his and connects your lips. 

“now ride me, baby. i know you’ve missed sitting on my cock, haven’t you?” 

with your hands gripping the back of the couch, you nod as you start to lift your hips up and down, leaning forward every so slightly so you can feel something against your already stimulated clit. 

“answer me. who’s are you? who’s cock have you missed sitting on?”

“y-you, wooyoung. you. i’ve- i’ve missed your cock,” you whine, your hips moving more frantically the more you bounce up and down on him. your breaths are labored and the room feels at least 30 degrees hotter, his grunts and groans and your high-pitched yelps filling the festive living room. 

“you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for this tight pussy again,” he growls out, when he feels himself getting close and needs you to come again before he can release inside of you. “i...you’re mine, baby. you fucking get that now, don’t you? you’re mine. and you’ll always be mine.”

“yes,” you whine out, frantically moving against him before moaning out when he starts fucking up into you. “yes, yes, yes. yours, wooyoung. p-please come, let me come, i wanna feel you-”

his last final grunt cuts you off and you feel your own orgasm take over, both of you riding out your highs and moaning each other’s names over and over until your ears are ringing and hearts are pounding in your chests. 

you’re faintly aware of his hand rubbing up and down your back, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your head before he pulls out of you and lays on the couch.you close your eyes and let out a tiny whine at his exit, a small smile lingering on wooyoung’s face as he grabs a baby wipe from the bathroom to clean between your legs.

you smile lazily at him when you see him between your legs, cheeky fuck he is placing a teasing kiss between on your clit as he walks away laughing at your squeal. 

he collapses on top of you when he’s back, holding himself up so he doesn’t crush you completely and places another kiss on your neck. he peppers them down your skin and you can only smile, still on the high of your orgasm and feeling loved that you can’t register all the other emotions fighting to break through.

fear and confusion and maybe even slight panic, realizing you just gave in and fucked the life out of the ex-boyfriend you know you’re supposed to hate. 

the doorbell ringing is the first thing that brings you back to reality a few minutes later, jumping up and nearly smacking wooyoung in the head had he not also lifted his head. his eyes are wide but not as bad as you, a smirk on his face as he asks if you’re expecting company.

“i don’t think so?” you say, pulling on your jeans before you start to frantically search for your shirt. wooyoung’s quick to throw you his, a knowing smile on your face because you remember how much he loved to see you in his clothes after you guys had sex. 

and that hasn’t seemed to change. 

“it’s definitely not my parents, they’d just use their key,” you assure him, attempting to fix your messy sexy hair that wooyoung’s always thought was the sexiest shit. “i’ll be right back.”

as you walk through the kitchen and peer out the front door, it feels like time stops when you see a familiar head of hair through the window. it’s like an exact parallel of the day mingi came to see you when you guys made up, except you hadn’t just fucked wooyoung on your couch. 

and sure enough when you open the door, there mingi is with a handful of flowers and a large cup of tea in hand. 

“hey! sorry i’m late, i can’t believe how much-”

his face drops the moment he takes in your appearance, messy hair, flushed pink cheeks, hickies on your neck, and an inside-out t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination of what you just got done doing. 

“traffic there was,” mingi finishes quietly, staring back at your surprised, shocked face in a way that makes his heart drop in his chest - you didn’t remember. 

“i...hi,” is all you dumbly say, the high from before quickly vanishing as you stare at mingi who’s looking more broken-hearted and confused by the second. it’s already making you wanna cry, his usually starry eyes dim and confused as he looks you over. 

“did...you forget i was coming?” he laughs out, humor in his tone that sounds so horribly masked you have to hold back tears. 

“happy new year, y/n! let’s hope this year brings us-”

your aunts words are cut off by blaring of your phone, mingi’s name popping up on your screen making a smile break out across your face; you’re not surprised he’s the first one calling to welcome you into the new year. 

“you should get that,” your aunt smirks, a blush on your cheeks as you shake your head and tell her it’s not like that. 

but she thinks the smile on your face says otherwise, the giggles and laughs and the way you throw your head back as you talk to the person on the other end of the phone. 

“i should be back in two days, you can come see me then drama queen,” you smile into the phone, mingi’s whiney complaints that he misses you so much, he doesn’t think he remembers what you even look like. “i’ll be home around six, i expect you there with flowers and a hot beverage.”

“oh my god.”

guilt like you’ve never experienced rushes through you all at once, face pale and mouth open as tears build up behind your eyes. mingi can see them building and already knows what’s happening, a lump forming so tight in his throat he can only shake his head.

“it’s okay, y/n.”

because he saw the car across the street; he thought, maybe, it was a coincidence - ignorance is bliss, after all, but he knew your reaction was gonna be the only thing he needed to see. and the tears in your eyes makes it pretty obvious what’s going on right now.

“wait. no mingi, it’s not. please. just let me-”

“no, it’s okay, really. i- i should’ve told you i was still coming. how were you supposed to know?” 

“we talked two days ago. i- i remember talking and planning it, i just...”

wooyoung called me, too. wooyoung called me and asked to go ice skating and   it was like after that, everything else was gone from your memory. you were so consumed by that you forgot you were supposed to-

“it’s okay,” he assures again, a small sad smile on his face as he holds out the flowers and drinks. “consider it a special delivery.”

and when you don’t take it, just continue to stare blankly at him, he places the drink and flowers on the steps and turns around wordlessly. because he’s not about to break down and have this conversation with wooyoung in the house, have you explain yourself when he obviously misunderstood things here. 

he’s just about to his car door when he hears your footsteps running after him, his eyes closing tight to fight off the few small tears building in his eyes. 

“mingi, wait. please wait, i-”

“it’s fine, y/n. i...i was stupid,” he laughs out humorlessly, turning around and looking over your already tear-stained face. “i misunderstood and that’s okay. i...we never officially said we were doing hanging out and i-”

“you didn’t misunderstand anything,” you’re quick to tell him, your mind completely clear as you take in mingi’s dejected face; you know you’re both not only talking about tonight’s plans.

you’re talking about the past ten months together. the friendship you built and the lingering touches and smiles. the way you made each other feel so safe and content and at ease. the way you only ever really smiled and laughed around one another.

his face looks familiar now though. his entire demeanor looks familiar, except you think you recognize more because you remember feeling like you looked a lot like that last winter. like you saw something you shouldn’t have and felt hurt in a way no one’s hurt you before. 

and you think those might’ve been the wrong words to say because within the next few silent seconds, mingi’s face morphs from devastation to the smallest hint of anger you’ve ever seen from him.

“don’t say that.”

tears fall from your eyes and you feel like you can’t breathe, watching him grip the handle of his door like he’s dying to get the fuck in his car and away from your house. 

“if...if i didn’t misunderstand anything, y/n, then i... this...” mingi shakes his head because he can’t even fathom this whole situation right now. but he knew from the beginning your relationship was very up in the air, the two of you never officially claiming to be anything. 

“we never talked about anything. our feelings or the kiss, so i did misunderstand things,” mingi confirms again, because this rationalization is easier. not feeling the need to hate you and yell at you and ask what the fuck you were thinking is easier. 

“i thought you were just...you know, figuring it out still so i didn’t wanna pressure you. but maybe that was wrong, maybe you just never wanted-”

“mingi, please. no. i know this looks bad but we can-”

“y/n?” 

wooyoung’s voice makes you both freeze, you keeping your gaze on mingi while his goes to the boy at the door. you can’t see the challenging look in wooyoung’s eyes or the smug look on his face, mingi’s hand tightening on the door as he tells you he’s leaving now.

“what?” you cry out, eyes wide and watery as you shake your head frantically. 

you know you’re being unfair and you know this is over but you can’t help but hold onto just for a second longer, your heart pulling so horribly in your chest, you’re not sure you’ve felt pain like this before.

“i’m leaving, y/n. get away from my car, okay?”

he keeps his voice soft and sweet and quiet, begging you to just go back to wooyoung as he keeps his eyes trained away from the boy. because he knows if he looks at him again, he’s gonna run over and beat the shit out of him.

“mingi, please, i didn’t-”

“it doesn’t matter anymore,” mingi says coldly, voice a bit harsher and louder. “just get away from my car.” 

“i know it looks bad but please, mingi, please, i didn’t mean to-”

“get the fuck away from me.”

your face falls and lower lip quivers, mingi’s face crumbling before he runs his hand over his face. he takes a few deep, calming breaths before his large hand cups your face, daring wooyoung to come over and say something right now, as his thumb runs over your cold skin and wipes at the wetness. 

“i’m sorry. i just...i have to go.”

“i didn’t mean to hurt you,” you blurt out, knowing and seeing clear as day that’s what happened. “i didn’t know... we never said...i...” 

you don’t know what to say but you know this all feels very fucking wrong. you know that you feel like you messed up one of the best friendships and relationships you’ve ever had, the pulling feeling deep within your gut making you wanna vomit.

“i know, y/n, it’s okay,” he assures gently, his hand falling from your face and making you feel ten degrees colder. “i just gotta go, okay? please.”

your face crumbles as you find that you can’t look away from him, only backing away when he’s able to open the door and wedge himself in. 

he turns on his car and puts it drive before he can even put his seatbelt on, his eyes never leaving yours until he’s taking off down the block and suddenly the neighborhood is quiet. 

you hear footsteps making their way up behind you but can’t move from your spot, staring at the spot his car just occupied before arms wrap around your body.

you can feel now that they’re far too cold and far too short and feel far too wrong. how could you have not felt this before? known that this just didn’t feel right?

“wooyoung’s my friend but so are... so were you.”

you watch mingi’s fingers rest on the couch cushion next to you as you let out a small, shaky breath, something about his words causing you to look up and narrow your eyes.

“were?”

a pink, dare you say, nervous, blush crosses his face that causes you to hold back a laugh, his eyes wide as he shakes his head quickly.

“are. you are my friend,” he clarifies quickly, unsure eyes still roaming you. “i just...wasn’t sure if you still wanted to be.”

his stammered words coupled in with his pink cheeks and dark, wind-blown hair have a small smile stretching across your face, a sigh leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him and shrug.

“well, i guess i can’t lose you too, huh?”

“i’m happy you’re mine again,” wooyoung whispers in your ear, his breath ghosting over your lips in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. “we can work through this, okay? you know how much i love you, baby.”

but do you really know that? what about when the next girl comes along, with dark hair and a pretty smile and makes him feel so desired, he just tells you that again because he knows, in the end, you’ll believe him?

the end

tag list: @mochibabycakes​ @atinyarmyx1​ @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich​ @minbinwhore​ @chrryhwa​ @chogiout​ @marksflvr​ @bunbaebae​ @markleeyeosang​ @inkigayeo​ @nlost21​ @toffee-hwa​

#this is so twisted and toxic #but alas angst won again <3 #dont take back a cheater irl!! #the love alarm s2 debacle was also very self indulgent #wooyoung #mingi #wooyoung angst #mingi angst #ateez angst #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung imagines #mingi scenarios #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #ateez smut

[ahtsumu]

miss me? ; miya atsumu

pairing: miya atsumu x f!reader

synopsis: with you gone, maybe he does need memories.

tag(s): angst, fluff ; warning(s): suggestive themes ; wc: 1.3k

a/n: inspired by the chopnotslop remix of dvsn’s “miss me?” 

“Do ya miss me,” he breathed into the phone, “like I’ve been missin’ you?”

Miya Atsumu was seventeen and a little rough around the edges when you taught him what love was.

He hadn’t meant to get so attached. Hadn’t meant for his eyes to dart to yours after every joke, hadn’t meant to start imagining the feeling of your hand in his, hadn’t meant to second-guess every text to you and you only.

And yet, he did.

With a touch so gentle that he hadn’t felt it at first, you’d somehow carved a space in his life that only you could fill. It left him speechless. Words couldn’t describe the tautness of his cheeks every time you skipped over with his name dangling off your lips, no doubt to be followed by one of your eccentric quips. Words couldn’t explain what it was that made his head turn in search of your face in the hallways.

Luckily, you could.

“I know you like me, y’know?”

Atsumu choked. “What?” he spluttered, watching your face light up across the lunch table. It suddenly felt as if he were completely hollow, save for thuds of his heart echoing through his chest.

“Yeah. You’re not exactly subtle.”

Crossing his arms, he raised his head up in an unconvincing show of bravado. “I dunno what yer––”

“I like you too, y’know?”

The drumming in his chest sped up. “Then, uh, what’re ya gonna do about that?”

A bubbling laugh fell out your mouth–– one that immediately tugged a soft smile across Atsumu’s own lips.

“What are you gonna do?”

You were eighteen and pretty as a summer’s day when Miya Atsumu finally let you into his daydreams.

Sounds from the movie playing on the television faded into the background when his brown eyes found yours. Rough fingers fluttered across your skin like hummingbird wings. His hands were warm. “D’ya know how much I love you?” Atsumu murmured, running an index finger along your jaw.

You cocked your head to the side. “‘Course I do.” He never shied from voicing his adoration for you–– from letting everyone know you were his girl, from reminding you that even though you were the one who forced him to confess his feelings, he was the one who fell first. And that he was still falling.

“S’not what I meant,” he chuckled, grazing his hand against your thigh. You shivered. “Can I show you how much I love ya?”

When Atsumu’s muscled body fell against yours over the twin-sized in his dorm, when he stilled his trembling hands by gripping your waist, when the two of you were down to nothing but the sweat on your skin and maybe even less than that–– you think you saw what he’d wanted to show you.

Love eclosed from its chrysalis: a magnificent golden butterfly.

Miya Atsumu was nineteen and on his way to conquer the world when it fell right into his hands.

Dear Mr. Miya,

  We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to play for the MSBY Black Jackals for the duration of…

He turned to you with wide eyes, arm holding the letter falling to his side. “Y/N…” The words died in his throat as you encased him in a bone-crushing hug and shrieked in pure joy.

“Can ya believe it?” he whispered. “God, it’s happenin’. It’s really happenin’.” Realisation finally setting in, he dropped the letter to the floor and cupped your face, kissing you in a crazed frenzy.

“Thank you,” he breathed against your lips. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…” You laughed, thinking he’d been thanking the V.League.

He hadn’t been, though. It was only because of you that he’d gotten where he was. You, who attended every game no matter how hectic college was. You picked him up when he fell down. Your faith in him was like divine intervention. Often times, he’d wonder how far he would’ve gone if you hadn’t been there to help him every step of the way.

He thought you knew that.

You were twenty-three and on your path to conquer the world when you saw the fork in the road.

“I’m tired,” you whispered with your head in your hands. Atsumu leaned against the wall, still in his practice clothes, an equally worn-out expression on his face. Behind him, the front door shut. It was midnight.

“Same ‘ere. Coach made us––”

“No, ‘Tsumu, I’m tired of missing you even when you’re around.” He straightened his spine, suddenly feeling more alert.

Uneven breaths sent tremours through your body. “I wake up to you already gone. I get a text from you at lunch and when I text back you don’t respond. I come home to an empty apartment. And I go to sleep to you coming back.” The V.League Division 1 Men’s Volleyball Tournament was set to happen in a few months. Atsumu had tasted the bitterness of defeat once already–– he didn’t plan on coming back for seconds.

Paralysed, he could only stand in the living room with his jaw slightly ajar, a blizzard of sentence fragments whirling around in his mind. Each one of them had “I’m sorry” in it. Each one of them also had “but” following right after. How could he apologise for wanting to be the best? How could he apologise for something he wanted to do?

“It’s your passion. What brings purpose to your life. I get that. And I love that you have something you love so much.”

His lungs filled with lead.

“I’d never ask you to give something less than your all. And I know you’d do anything to win the tournament this time. But lately, I’ve been feeling like you aren’t giving us your all. I’m tired of always running after you. Especially with my internship at the firm–– it’s already stressful enough. I can’t handle another four months of this.”

Silence fell over the room.

“Can ya tell me what I can do?” he finally asked, voice strained. “Anythin’. Say it an’ I’ll make it happen.”

Both of you knew he wanted to mean what he said. But this was real life. He was him–– the perfectionist, the strong-willed, the uncompromising–– and you were you. And in many ways, you were like him: equally demanding, equally ambitious, equally unyielding.

“Let me go.”

Miya Atsumu is twenty-four and a little washed up when he calls you for the first time in a year. In said year, he’s dated three models, crashed two sports cars, and won first place at the V.League Division 1 Men’s Volleyball Tournament setting for the MSBY Black Jackals. Not in that particular order. Most people would say that he's on top of the world.

But he's tired. It's not as great as it seems.

You were supposed to have been there as he raised the trophy in the air, finally victorious. You’re supposed to be here, right now, on the left side of his bed, legs intertwined with his, hands running through his hair, humming a song you heard on the radio earlier.

With a thudding heart and his reckless admission hanging in the air, Atsumu stares up at the bedroom ceiling. The hand holding the phone to his ear shakes.

Images from the day you left are still playing in his head. Truthfully, they never fully leave. Sometimes, when he’d found a new pretty thing to distract himself with, your tears would slip beneath his consciousness. When he drove fast enough down the highway with the wind smothering his lungs, the gravity of your retreating steps would lift from his chest. When he was on the court, he could forget you to win. Maybe that’d been the problem.

And then, he hears you inhale on the other side.

“Can I show ya that I’m different from before?” he begged.

#miya atsumu #miya atsumu imagines #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu scenarios #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! #hq!! #hq!! scenarios #haikyuu!! x reader #hq!! x reader #hq!! imagines #miya atsumu angst #miya atsumu fluff

[shhhlikeme]

F*cked Out 💤

Ojiro Aran Domestic Smut (NSFW) part 2

A/N: I wrote this as a Part 2 to this fic, but it can be read as a stand alone!

18+, Explicit smut, praise kink, Aged up obvs, Timeskip spoilers

Tagging: @saitamastamaticsoup & @chunhua-s b/c these Aran stans found part 1 last night & their comments made me thirsty enough to write a pt. 2. Hope you like it!

also my lovely @qyuanon who I just read is back and I missed her💛

Futilely, you knocked on the door to yours and your man’s home office. Leaning on the frame, you crossed your arms. Being a literal isolationist when you had to work, you never understood why your man liked keeping the office door open. But then he told you once that he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t hear you calling him if the door was closed. ‘What if something happened and I didn’t run to you?’ He had explained, pouting when you laughed at him. It warmed your heart, but you decided not to call his name tonight, instead opting to physically pay him a visit. You had to, because what lead you here in the first place was serious! You had just woken up in the middle of the night because his side of the bed had turned cold. Yeah, that deserved nothing less than a visit from you! 

From your spot in the doorway you could see Ojiro sitting at the grand desk, his back turned to you, the lights from his laptop playing some Team Canada highlights. The screen bluelight shone brightly on his gorgeous dark skin, the back of his head bobbed up and down as he dutifully wrote down any important plays he was seeing so that he could tell his coach tomorrow.

“Babe,” You announced your presence with a soft smile. Your man is such a hard worker and he really doesn’t get enough credit for it. You tighten the robe you were wearing because it was always kind of drafty on this side of the house. “You have a game tomorrow.” 

Your boyfriend, captain of the Japanese National Volleyball Team’s shoulders slumped when he heard you, but he didn’t turn around. 

He didn’t have to.

He never had to. Even though you’ve only been dating for a bit over a year, you two knew each other so well that you could accurately tell exactly what kind of expressions, feelings, and thoughts permeated the other without having to be vis-a-vis. When you first met, your dates were—objectively speaking—oddly silent for the most part. The waitress once asked you if you were uncomfortable through an inconspicuous napkin note, which was kind of her—but the truth was that on that date you were actually more than Okay! It might have seemed odd to an outsider or eavesdropper that no sentences were being finished, and both people on said date were constantly staring down, away, or into each others eyes in silence… but realistically, neither of them could grasp the fact that words weren’t necessary when there existed a connection like yours and Aran’s. 

‘It’s fate. He’s the one.’ You had told your friends after the second date when you realized your mind reading wasn’t a fluke. Because as corny as it sounded then and even now in your memory; it was true, tf. 

Doesn’t mean you weren’t going to kick his ass for letting his side of the bed go cold, though. You were used to Aran being gone for volleyball so you had no problem falling asleep alone, but when you were ecstatic to have him home it was important for him to REMAIN home, which means staying in bed if you fell asleep on his chest! He has never done it before, so This is not Okay!

“I know, baby, I know…” your boyfriend calls to you, scribbling on his notepad faster. “I’m almost done. I-I think their setter could be doing one of two plays to start tomorrow, and I don’t think it’s the one I was sure about before we went to bed. And I mean, we play them until 12pm, so—“

“So nothing. You still have to be up by 6. The stadium is far and knowing you, you won’t sleep on the Team’s bus, you’ll still be watching these videos even then. I’ll—“

“Please don’t tell Iwaizumi-san, he will kick my ass! We’re playing Team Canada tomorrow and they are ranked just under us but—“

“Not by a lot, I know. I understand, but you guys will still pull the win. I know it....because Your team has you.”

Aran chuckled heartily, continuing to scribble with his back still turned, but his voice turned a little more endearing. “Thank you, baby. But.... I can’t seem to sleep tonight... I just can’t. I’ve been up this whole time so I—” As your boyfriend babbled on, you quietly interjected, 

“I know a way to get you to sleep.” 

“—won’t use my laptop in bed and wake you up when you’re sleeping so….wait….what did you—?” 

You smirked, knowing that your man knew why your voice had dropped a few octaves. He knew you were up to something, not because you two could practically read each other’s minds—moreso because you two had already established that that specific tone of voice of yours made his dick hard. The pen he was scribbling with stopped moving, finally, and you could just picture the way he gulped just now. 

“I know you can’t sleep, Ar…..” You made sure he could hear you clearly now, in the voice you only reserved for fuck-me-o’clock. 

A sexy smirk that Ojiro could see without looking at you played in his mind and on your face simultaneously. 

“Yeah?” He asked, his deep voice cracking. 

You kept speaking in that voice with one goal in mind.

“Yes, baby…” You hummed thoughtfully before stating,

“So why don’t you come over here and fuck me so hard it puts you to bed, then?”

Drunk off horniness caused by the amount sex dripping from your voice, the captain of Japan’s National Volleyball Team slowly turned the office chair so that he was facing you. 

Boldly, you turned your back to him at the same time and fiddled your hands that just tightened your robe. This time, instead of tightening it, you loosened the strings fully so your robe was wide open, facing the emptiness of your house. Knowing that your boyfriend was checking out and admiring your ass in that short silk robe and desiring the shock factor—in one motion you tossed the robe over your shoulders so that it pooled at your feet, exposing your completely nude back and backside to your man. 

“🤤 Shit,” Ojiro groaned, sounding as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. You just knew your man was biting that full and juicy bottom lip of his.

Swaying your hips to give your man a tiny show, you sauntered precisely where he didn’t want you to: away from him; heading towards the master bedroom. 

You kept yourself from giggling when you heard the aggressive shutting of a laptop, a volleyball announcer being cut off, and a certain volleyball player’s stumbling and cursing because Ojiro was practically chasing you out of the office.

***

“Mmmm…. Fuck..”

A few minutes later, your mind displayed a valiant effort by attempting to guess how your boyfriend looked right now, but it would be in vain. You couldn’t picture your man like you usually could because you were currently being fucked way too fucking well. Ojiro was filling you completely with just half his length, whispering horny-nothings to help you understand his feelings anyway:

“God damn, Y/N… Every. Time. Feels. So. God. Damn. Good,”

Now, If your mind was clear you’d be able to perfectly visualize how Ojiro’s face was scrunched up in pleasure right now, a coat of sweat coating his nude dark skin, the skylight over his head allowing the moon to reflect an insanely sexy glow sheen over his muscles due to the perspiration. 

“Auuh there’s nothing better than this, baby…”

If your mind was clear you’d be able to perfectly visualize how Ojiro’s head was tilted backwards right now, his mouth slightly ajar as he focused on not cumming inside you within the first few minutes of this because he needed to feel you cum around him first. As always. 

“Not when I hitting a line shot, not when I get a service ace.... nothing feels—auuuh f-uck— better than your pussy, baby girl..…”

If your mind was clear, you’d be able to see Ojiro on his knees behind you, holding your hips in his giant hands while he drove into you from behind, inserting only half his cock in and out like a pro, then surprising you with a fully thrust every now and then when he sheathed all 10 inches inside your heat.

“Mmm, so ti-ight, always so wet… damn,”

Despite your mind being clouded by immense pleasure, however—you did know that you looked absolutely wrecked with your face pressed in the pillow, blindly reaching behind you to tap or wave or pinch or do something to him since you couldn’t speak. You could barely made any sounds other than choked out moans because it felt so spectacular… but you didn’t have to! Aran knew that you wanted your boyfriend to stop playing and give you full strokes. His half thrusts filled and pleasured you more than any one ever could because he was huge and skilled in bed, he knew just how your insides liked to be stroked, but that didn’t stop you from silently pleading to him..

Even if Ojiro wasn’t holding back like always because he was very aware of his size and girth, even if you both knew that it would hurt you the next day like after a good workout, even if you walked funny when you had to attended his Olympic game several hours from now—you fucking needed it.

HE fucking needed it!

“Harder, Ar,” You commanded, “Deeper!”

“Fuck,” Your boyfriend panted, still not giving you what you asked 7 amazing strokes later. 

“Harder, now!” You cried as if you were whispering to the fucking pillow. You hadn’t the strength to lift your head. Your orgasm was fast approaching because HALF your man’s dick was too good and there was no way you weren’t bringing him with you. “Deeper, baby!”

“Y-you su-sure?” He asked worriedly. He always did this shit 🙄. He always worried way too much about your body soreness and way too little about both of your impending orgasms tonight rocking your motherfucking worlds. 

Ugh!

Good boyfriends and their fucked up PRIORITIES, amirite?!

Needless to say, you didn’t have time for compassionate Aran tonight. You needed him to fuck the both of you to sleep the way you knew he was capable of if he stopped holding back. Besides, he should have been in bed hours ago. You had to do this for the sake of the National Team! You had to this for JAPAN! (A/N: lucky b*tch shut your horny ass up)

So that’s why, in response to his asking if you were sure or not, you responded by clenching your insides so that your slick hole squeezed around your boyfriend’s cock. 

As soon as he felt you pulsing impossibly tighter around him as he fucked you halfway, his eyes rolled back in his head. 

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck…” He moaned deeply, so of course you continued doing it.

“Shit, Y/N, Okay, Okay,”

Without having to beg for mercy, your man did as you asked him to. He moved his hands from your waist to splay them on each of your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to make more room for his member that already barely fit (with your hasty prep and not his tentative one), but especially when your pussy clenched around him like that. With a loud moan from both of you, he bottomed out and stayed there for a bit to get you used to the size. You almost passed out by how good it felt pressing against your g-spot.

When Aran couldn’t take it anymore, and he started giving it to you: hard, fast, and deep. 

“Ye, baby, make room for me just like this…..” He moaned, gripping your ass tighter. “You want all of me? You think your tight hole can handle all of me?” He asked, no growled, still giving shallow but gratifying thrusts.

You whimpered, knowing that Ojiro knew the answer to that. Even so, you egged him on, “Sh-Show me why you’re the best top,” playing into your dirty talk from the last time y’all had sex like this but he was under you. 

Your boyfriend let out a long groan in his smooth deep voice and picked up his pace in reaponse, sending a new wave of wetness to your private. You were so soaked down there that it sounded like y’all were having sex in the bath tub, fuck. 

Your man loved it. 

“Mmmm, —m’ close beautiful,” He called, snapping his hips forward to meet you g-spot again and again. “It’s you, baby, it’s you,” Your man groaned. “Your pussy feels too fucking good……. I’d never pull out if I had to co-couldd,” 

“Oh, God. Aran!" You moaned loudly due to his dirty talk and praise, teetering on the edge of your release. Knowing that you maybe had 30 seconds left if you focused, you must have decided that you didn’t want to walk tomorrow at all because being the weakness of your bf you are, from your position being pounded into the sheets, you propped yourself up on your weak arms so that you could use the fact that your elbows were digging into the mattress as leverage to push your body back so that you met Aran’s deep thrusts. 

Like your boyfriends does every rare time he’s able to see your glorious ass bounce on his hard dick, his eyes flew open and he felt as though he’d been transported to heaven itself. 

“Y/N—auh, s-so sexy, aah, ooh, ohhh, fuck, Y/N,”

entranced, Aran couldn’t even last another second before he was stopping your movements with his hands, sliding them back on your hips to hold you still as his orgasm took his muscular frame by storm. He saw stars.

Of course, his orgasm triggered yours immediately, and you cried your man’s name as you came on his dick. He whispered yours as your insides milked him without influence this time, effectively lengthening your man’s finish. Panting, Aran just barely caught himself before his now exhausted body toppled over you. 

His last wakeful act, being the gentleman that he is, was to roll over so he wouldn’t crush you with his body weight, pulling out at the same time. 

You wondered if he registered that he said, “thank you baby,” before he began softly snoring—a sign that he was completely worn out and sleeping.

You smiled softly to yourself when you heard his snores, finally turning when you caught your own breath, to fully see your boyfriend’s stunning face. You endearingly brushed his goatee with the tips of your fingers, turning his sleeping face to yours so you could peck his lips. Then, you just barely had the leg strength to stand up on limbs that barely worked, removing his condom for him, then using the furniture in your room to support you as you cleaned the two of you up. You almost fell asleep standing up as you used a cloth on the two of you. Five minutes later, you were back in bed, under the covers with your lover and amazing man. 

Usually, Ojiro Aran slept like the dead (when he first moved in you occasionally have to check if he was still breathing...) , but you knew now that if he snored, that was a sign that he was so fatigued. You knew about the snoring, but the talking was new to you. Ojiro was so deep in his sleep after that round, that he was talking to himself in his slumber, whispering sweet-nothings about you that you’d never let him know he vocalized to spare him the embarrassment.

Besides, he didn’t say anything too embarrassing.... and you knocked out as soon as your head met his chest, not even feeling his arm sweetly wrap around your waist to pull you closer. So, you didn’t even hear most of his sleep-talk.

And maybe you were right when you called it fate, that drove the two of you.... because if it wasn’t fate that had you place your head on Aran’s chest at that exact moment, if it wasn’t fate that made you fall asleep at that exact moment..... then, I mean, you would have heard Ojiro not a second later declare aloud that he’s hiding your engagement ring in the office’s cabinet drawer. You would have heard theis the real reason he wasn’t able to fall asleep: because he was so nervous about asking for your hand in marriage before his Japan vs. Canada game tomorrow, when you least expected it.

Cause like, well, that totally would have ruined the surprise.

But you did fall asleep. Fate did that. So him sleep talking honestly never really happened.

And you know what else never happened? 

You never had to feel the cold side of the bed again where your man should be, at least not that night, because Aran Ojiro your new fiancée’s body kept it warm all night, because you were great and helping him fall asleep like a baby....making him just that:

 f*cked out. 

#ojiro aran #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu aran #hq imagines #haikyuu!! #hq headcanon #haikyuu headcannons #inarizaki

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

Yeah the Loki finale was meh/disappointing it doesn’t even feel like a Loki show anymore. I swear you could swap him with another character and the story would barely change.

Hi, anon! I'll put thoughts under a cut since idk who all has seen the Loki show yet.

Tbh, Loki is my favorite character from the MCU. I have waited for YEARS for this character to have an actual spotlight...

And I really wanted to like this show, I really did. Like, I legit wanted to just turn off my brain and enjoy everything?

But yeah, your message resonates with me. There were things I liked about the show, but once I got over the cool CGI and angst and female gaze, it just...feels like Loki got sidelined in his own story? The focus hadn't been about him specifically since episode 1. It instead shifted to Sylvie, who is different enough from Loki that she might as well have been Hawkeye still on his Endgame rampage for justice. And it was Sylvie's problems and Sylvie's motivations that drove the story. Which, you know, were interesting in their own way but not what I was expecting from a Loki show. A lot of scenes were just Sylvie running around and Loki somewhat helplessly following along in a daze that this is what his life has become. He was just ultimately a very passive character in someone else's story...because as the finale clearly showed, his core issues that needed to be worked out weren't in alignment with her own.

So it's sad to me that the show opened up by saying that Loki's destiny was always to function as a dead-end catalyst for other people's character development/journeys. And in the end, that's...exactly what Loki became for all the other characters in this show. ;A; And I'm not sure what they have going on for s2, but I fear he'll just play second-fiddle to Dr. Strange at this point.

I have other issues with the show as well....

___

I felt like they also massively declawed him? Ignoring the comics entirely (where he's even more badass) and looking just at the movies: He survived a Hulk smack-down, could toss humans like they were nothing, could travel between worlds through a variety of means, could already see into people's minds/memories and cast illusions and even change his form, and yet somehow all of this got retconned to make him a less powerful sorcerer compared to his Variants.

I remember this guy being actually dangerous and physically capable, which is why they locked him up. Loki used to have Avenger-level capabilities and strength. But now, he can't hardly fight off a human, and his defense skills are relegated to basic hand-to-hand combat and a dagger. The show even makes fun of his abilities and calls him a pussycat and turns him into a tie-wearing analyst...But I suppose that's in line with the general downgrade of his abilities in recent MCU movies...

___

And if being a sidekick in his own show and having his abilities retconned wasn't enough, I feel like the show failed to convince me that it really understood and is working to grow Loki's character.

The underlying issue that the show calls out as Loki's ultimate weakness is that he's "afraid of being alone," and that this feeds a narcissism complex. But this doesn't really make sense to me? Because he didn't grow up alone or unwanted. He had a mother (Frigga) who loved him deeply and taught him magic. He clearly made it into adulthood believing that Odin was his father, who certainly wasn't absent. He was always on adventures with his brother. He had clearly tried to build a reputation for himself that was differentiated from his brother's (the Silvertongue). This goes against how narcissists don't really have a personality of their own because they just absorb other people's mannerisms to fit in...So like, idk about parsing out the details of narcissism as a clinical diagnosis because I'm not a psychologist, but something feels a little odd here to me? Like, it's more than just...fear of being alone that drives Loki to be destructive? The loneliness is only a symptom??

The problem based off the early movies, providing that I'm not entirely an idiot in listening (which I suppose I could be), was that he was always in Thor's shadow and was never considered an equal, someone worthy of respect despite their differences. Even in the 2009 movie, his peers belittled his title as a Silvertongue and his love for magic. Discovering that he was actually an unwanted frost giant just twisted that knife in deeper and set him on a self-destruct path, once and for all. And it's really interesting to me that throughout this show, people are still constantly trying to establish themselves as alpha over Loki and make jabs about him as worthless and weak. And he's just desperate enough for validation to still try bonding with them the instant anyone tosses a bone of mild curiosity at him.

The fact that he's still positioned as less valuable and less respected than Sylvie, and that even Sylvie herself ultimately usurps equality in their relationship/partnership to enforce her will is just...depressing.

And for all this discussion about Loki changing/redeeming himself, at the end of the day, his perspective hasn't really changed? He still identifies himself as untrustworthy, even though he careens as a desperate lap dog for Mobius' approval and then Sylvie's once she gives him an ounce of attention. He has difficulty with accepting the value of a life, especially in regard to his own life. For example, he was still willing to consider upholding the death of future untold numbers via pruning despite being such a victim himself. And that's not a slam to his worry about a worse alternative, which is probably valid, but it's still weird that he does not believe he could contribute to a powerful resistance group capable of taking out multiple variations of one human man.

It's even weirder that he still seems to be caught in a tailspin regarding "necessary dictatorship," even though Loki is supposed to be a Silvertongue and could have won He Who Remains over as an ally against the other Variants of He Who Remains, thereby dismantling the TVA and freeing the multiverse. But unfortunately, he still can't see beyond two binary roads (mass chaos vs. subjugation). He has totally lost his confidence and identity as a Silvertongue. He can't see an alternative option despite supposedly being a Master Strategist, and that's echoed in how his initial thought to defeat Alioth was to kill it in a very Thor-ish, Asgardian way.

And because he has accepted the show's narrative that he is not capable or worthy of respect for his own unique talents, he openly just..accepts the concept that he's not meant to mean anything to anyone but himself ("I just want you to be okay") or do actually anything meaningful with his abilities. This probably underscores why he is so incapable of using his full powers for a Chaotic Good.

And for one final jab of hopelessness, the show immediately reverses the one (1) other mildly positive relationship he had just started to build via Mobius, solidifying that once again, Loki is not allowed to have friends. Loki is not allowed to have equals. Loki is not allowed to be respected. Which is probably why even when he's surrounded by other people, that's why he still feels alone.

I'm just sort of dead that for all the time the show spent on diagnosing Loki, it never got deep enough to ask why he feels alone.

Conclusion

So idk, the show just kinda depressed me tbh. I don't want to be this critical??? They have really great actors, interesting concepts, and clearly a strong CGI department. Again, not sure I could do better, so I recognize I'm playing armchair critic here. Maybe it'll get better in s2. I really want this show to prove me wrong and move Loki into a level of character development where he can like, actually have purpose in his own title show beyond serving as second-fiddle to other people in other people's self-discovery journeys.

Like please, just let him realize that he can have a positive, meaningful purpose. And that whatever his purpose is, that he is Enough just as he is, and that he can contribute meaningful things to others and be fully worthy of respect. And I think once that clicks with Loki, we'll see him really grow into something phenomenal. Something truly formidable, even if that character doesn't sit on a throne....

It's possible the show could go there? But I'm just a little leery that it's not really a show about Loki....

#Loki #Marvel #MCU #Sylvie #Agent Mobius #Loki show salt #Loki show critical #;A; there's things I do like about this show #but ahhhhhh #Marvel always devalues Loki #I just...guess I didn't expect them to do that here

[myhockeyworld87]

Ruined - Jamie Benn - Part 1

Word Count: 3,332

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, NSFW

Notes: So here we go with this new story that’s been stuck in my head and finally worked it’s way onto here. Please see the Masterlist for the synopsis. The first two parts should really be one, but I broke it into 2 because well sometimes I don’t have time to read long fics and then I lose my place, so I tried to make this a bit easier for anyone else that has this problem. So, Part 2 is coming out tonight as well. As always feedback is greatly appreciated. Happy Reading!

You sat there staring at the piece of paper in your hand, debating back in forth in your mind about what you wanted to do. This was your dream offer, just not in your dream city. In fact, if you were being honest this was the last place you saw yourself moving, but could you or would you turn it down because of him. He’d dictated most of your high school life, and some of college, to give him that kind of power over your career now would be so stupid. Especially, when you literally hadn’t seen him in almost twelve years. He probably wouldn’t even remember you, but there was no way that you could ever forget Jamie Benn.

 It was your freshman year in high school when you’d met him. He was slightly older and had just come to your secondary school to play hockey. Jamie was quiet, which seemed kind of funny for a jock. They were always loud and boisterous, but maybe you were just going by the ones in your family. By default, he was thrown in with all the other hockey players and one so happened to be your older brother, who was also friends with Jamie’s brother Jordie. The three of them ended up being thick as thieves and drove you half insane at times. Well, maybe not Jamie. When he was at your house the two of you always ended up having some random conversation about god only knew what, but it was always entertaining. You easily got a crush on him after about the seventh or eighth time you were around him but kept that to yourself. Oh, it wasn’t like you weren’t pretty or anything. It was the opposite really. Cheerleader, as well as on the track team; you were one of the more popular freshmen in school, but you were also terribly shy and inexperienced when it came to boys. You always felt, well, awkward around them, not knowing if you would say the right thing or do something embarrassing. With Jamie though, it was different. He made you feel so at ease, but then maybe part of that was because he shared the same awkwardness that you did.

 You distinctly remember one night early your sophomore year, when your brother, Justin, and Jordie decided to take both you and Jamie to a party. They practically had the school slut, throwing herself at Jamie, but it was clear the boy had no clue what to do, as his hands awkwardly fumbled her advances. Which was fine with the jealous streak that suddenly went through your entire body. She attempted to kiss him, and with all eyes focused on him, he went to return it, only to completely miss her and end up bonking her on the head. In end, he’d laughed things off saying he was too drunk, but you knew that he’d only had one beer. He somehow slipped out of the cabin you’d been partying at, and back to the woods, after the incident. Of course, you’d followed him. “Hey Jame, you ok?” He simply shrugged as you sat down on the log beside him. “Justin and Jordie can be dickheads sometimes, you know?”

 “Tell me about it.”

 “I’m sure you’re a better kisser.” Oh my god, did those words really leave your mouth? Fuck. “I mean…like…” Jamie just sort of smiled over at you as you stumbled through words that seemed to be regurgitating out of your mouth. 

 “Maybe,” he finally said, staring off into the woods, then very quietly added. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

 You had to strain your ears to catch that last part, but you were definitely sure he said he’d never had a first kiss. “Oh,” you answered softly, with a hint of surprise in your voice, though inside you were giddy. Somehow, you’d just assumed that someone like Jamie, who was athletic and good looking had definitely been kissed before. It was surprising that he admitted it to you, and before you knew what was happening that same word vomit from before was making an appearance. “Me either.”

 “Really?” His question came almost as soon as you spit out the words. Why he found that hard to believe was beyond you.

 “Yes really.”

 “I just thought….well…” This time it was Jamie stumbling through a sentence instead of you. “I know that you and David have been hanging out a lot.” 

 “David?” While it was true, you’d been hanging out with one of the school’s top soccer players, it was for a completely different reason then stolen kisses. “I’m tutoring him in biology. If he fails, he’s off the team.” The words fell from your lips before you had time to fully think them through. “Please don’t say anything. He doesn’t want anyone to know.”

 “I won’t,” Jamie told you and you knew that you could trust him with this or any secret that you had. He turned toward you then, his eyes locking with yours. “I’m glad you’re only tutoring him.”

 “Oh, why? He seems like a nice guy or have you heard different…” you trailed off not quite sure of what or why you were even asking.

 “Oh, he seems nice. I don’t really know him.” Jamie ran his fingers through his hair then. A telltale sign he was searching for the right words. “I mean…I’m glad you’re not dating him, you know…because…well I thought….” He blew out a breath and you held yours. “Maybe you’d want to date me.” Goose pimples rose on your flesh at his words. This was the moment you dreamed about, and now, here it finally was. When you didn’t answer right away Jamie added, “That is…did you want to go on a date?”

 The corners of your lips pulled up into a smile and Jamie’s did as well. “I’d like that.”

 “Me too.” He adjusted himself so that he was sitting closer to you on the log you shared. Now only an inch or two separated the two of you as he hesitantly made a move to hold your hand. It hovered just above yours for a few seconds, both of your eyes shifting down to watch as he finally clasped your hands together, and then you were both shared a stupid grin. “Can I…kiss you?”

 You were speechless at all that had transpired in the last couple of moments, and so you just nodded, both excited and afraid to share your first kiss with Jamie. You moved in closer, while Jamie did the same. Your eyes slowly going shut as your lips drew near. Jamie’s lips ghosted over yours, just barely a brush against your skin as first, but then he added a bit more pressure and it was both awkward and wonderful at the same time. You both stayed that way for several heartbeats neither of you moving, both unsure what the next move was. His free hand, the one that wasn’t tightly laced with yours, came up to caress your cheeks, and then your lips were moving together and it was one kiss simply melting into a million more. Unconsciously, you sighed. Your lips parting open for him and his tongue darted into your mouth. Eyes flying open at the contact, you weren’t sure how to react. Of course, you knew what a French kiss was, had seen it on television a million times, but to experience it was quite different. You realized you could taste the beer he’d drunk earlier and something else, though you couldn’t put your finger on it. Tentatively, you let your tongue mingle with his, letting your eyes flutter shut once again so you could savor the feel of this kiss; your first kiss with Jamie Benn. 

 It was one of many that you shared with Jamie over the next few months. He took you out on several dates, mostly to the movies or to the little pizza shop you both loved, but most nights were either spent on your couch or his, where you’d watch hockey and then makeout until it was time for curfew. Your relationship progressed about as much as any fifteen going on sixteen-year-olds did; there was a lot of holding hands and quiet kisses. On night’s that one of your parents would go out and leave you both alone, it definitely went from first to second base rather quickly, and you learned that Jamie was definitely a boob man. He became an expert at unclasp your bra in record time, of course, there was a learning curve that involved a lot of fumbling around. 

 It was Jamie’s birthday, that you decided to give him a present he’d never forget. For the life of you at the age of fifteen, you couldn’t figure out why it was called a blowjob when you were definitely supposed to suck on his cock. Thankfully, you’d seen enough of your brother’s porn stash to know how to give a proper one and not look completely stupid. Though you didn’t expect to gag when Jamie thrust his hips into your face uncontrollably. At least you recovered quickly and were able to swallow most of his cum when it shot down the back of your throat. It was two weeks later that he finally reciprocated, by going down on you in the backseat of his car. While not the most romantic place in the world, his tongue flicking across your clit made up for the cliché atmosphere. 

 By the end of summer, you’d rounded all the bases but hadn’t hit a home run yet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to sleep with Jamie; it was the exact opposite. However, there just wasn’t a time or place for the deed to get done. The two of you had discussed and decided that you wanted to make it special and not just make it some little box that you could check off in your relationship. This would be the first time for both of you, so while it was going to be memorable, you also wanted to savor it. As neither of you were eighteen yet, it wasn’t like you could go and get a hotel, for you’d thought about that option, and you’d already ruled at the car. With limited options in Victoria, you had no choice but to travel to your parents' second house on the outskirts of Vancouver. It was rarely used, as your dad only stayed there on business trips which had become less frequent over the last couple of years. Even though the house was rarely occupied, you came up with an elaborate plan for your parents to let you not only stay there overnight but travel there by yourself. Well, technically it wasn’t by yourself as you said you were going with your best friend Emma. Who covered for you, god love her.

 You weren’t sure what excuse Jamie had told his parents, but he picked you up at Emma’s house one Saturday morning and the two of you made the trip in less than three hours. It was a nerve-wracking drive, though Jamie held your hand most of the time. It wasn’t really the thought of having sex with Jamie that made you uneasy. It was the thought of having sex period. You were afraid it was going to hurt, but you kept trying to push past that thought, knowing that you wanted to do this, more so that you wanted to do this with Jamie. 

 It was awkward, just like all your firsts with Jamie were, but eventually, you two were able to move past that, and in the end, it was actually kind of amazing. Though the most wonderful part had to be falling asleep in Jamie’s arms. He’d made you felt so loved and cherished, and you’d known right then and there that you’d made the right decision to give you virginity away to this man. It felt like the two of you would be together forever.

 That was until the following Tuesday at school came around. There were stares and whispers everywhere you looked, or so it seemed. It wasn’t until lunchtime, that you finally found out what was going on, and then it was only from Emma. “Em, what is going on with everyone? I feel like half these guys are staring at me.”

 She closed her eyes as if mustering up the courage to tell you something she didn’t want to. “Jamie told everyone that you two slept together.” You gasped, then quickly covered up both your mouth and the hurt that came along with it. “That’s not the worst of it,” Emma said and it felt like your heart just sank into your stomach. “I also heard that he told people you two have been fucking for months.” There were so many ‘whys’ and ‘how could he’ running around in your head you couldn’t make heads or tails of them. Jamie wouldn’t do this, there had to be some explanation. Your eyes scanned the cafeteria looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found. You were just about to get up and look for him when Emma’s hand came down on yours. “There’s more. He said the only reason he was dating you was because you were easy.” Bile rose in the back of your throat and you wanted to just run to the girls' bathroom and cry, but Emma stopped you. “Don’t,” she said simply. “If you go, it will just feed more gossip. Act like nothing is wrong and that nothing happened. Like you don’t care.” Easy for her to say when it felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest along with your reputation. “Breathe.” You hadn’t realized you’d stopped until she said the word. 

 The rest of the day was a complete blur. You couldn’t find Jamie anywhere. As soon as you could make it home after practice, you were dialing his number. His mom answered, “I’m sorry (Y/N), Jamie’s not feeling well. I’ll have him call you when he’s feeling better.” The next day passed and still the lingering stares, mostly from the guys, continued. You’d even had a few ask you out, to which you simply rolled your eyes and told them it would only happen in their dreams. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say and just added fuel to the fire, making it seem like everything that Jamie had said true. He avoided you yet another day and you were beginning to wonder if he was going to pretend to be sick the entire school year just so he didn’t have to face you. By the third day that you hadn’t heard from him, you knew it was done. No matter what excuse he could give you, it would never make up for not only what he said but the way he’d treated you afterward. You simply needed to move on. So, when you saw him at school the following day, you completely ignored him. He attempted to talk to you several times, but you weren’t having it. “Come on (Y/N), please just talk to me.”

 “I think you’ve done enough talking for the both of us Jamie. We’re through.” There was hurt in his eyes and you wanted to break down and cry right then and there, but you held your head up high and continued down the hall to your next class. It was two periods later that Emma was handing you a note. You unfolded it, seeing Jamie’s writing on the top.

 (Y/N),

I’m sorry. Please let me explain….

 That’s all you read before tearing the letter up and tossing it in the garbage can in front of Jamie, hoping he would get the point and leave you alone. He didn’t. As soon as you walked in the door of your house, your mom told you he’d called three times already. After explaining that the two of you broke up, and crying on your mom’s shoulder for a half-hour, though not mentioning the details of your breakup; she told Jamie not to call back when the phone rang again. Ever persistent, Jamie came banging on the door after dinner. This time it was your dad that told him he wasn’t wanted in your home, even though Jamie was practically begging him to let you in, while you sobbed in the background. He kept up the same routine over the next week, all with the same result until eventually, he gave up.

 Over the next two weeks, you could hear the whispers as you walked down the hall. Girls muttering that you were slut, while the boys were trying to figure out which one of them would get to sample you next; now that it was clear you were no longer with Jamie. The icing on the cake was when David, the soccer player you’d been tutoring told everyone that you hadn’t been studying at all; that he’d been sleeping with you for the last month. No matter how many times you said it was a lie, no one believed you. Your reputation was simply shredded apart all by a few words Jamie had uttered. So, after a couple months of being talked about, there was only one thing left to do, and that was to become that girl that they whispered about. If they were going to condemn you, you might as well earn it.

 Your junior and senior year, you became the girl that gave the star point guard a blow job behind the bleachers after the game, as well as giving one to the goalie, the wide receiver, and the captain of the debate team, and a few more as well. Jamie seemed to take out his aggression on the ice, dropping the gloves with opponents left and right, but you tried to pay him no mind. Until he finally went to play for the Grizzlies and you didn’t have to see him all the time. By then end of high school, you truly had earned the reputation that he’d given you, but you were sick of it. Tired of being looked at for only sex, you applied to schools in the US. Thankfully, while you’d jumping from penis to penis, you’d still kept up your studies and were accepted at every school you’d applied to. 

 When you received your acceptance letter from Georgetown, along with a scholarship, you jumped at the chance to put yourself all the way across the continent from not only Jamie but what you’d become. At University, you put your head to the books instead of on some unknown guy’s cock, studying constantly which earned you a 4.0 in undergrad, and basically allowed you have your pick at the top medical schools in both Canada and the United States. It was a no brainer when John Hopkins wanted you and during your time there, you were able to work with not only the Baltimore Ravens but the Orioles as well, all within your first year. Which had you taking up orthopedics and sports medicine as your specialty. 

 All of this led you to today and the offer you were currently mulling over. It was literally everything you’d ever wanted and allowed you to work with not only the NFL but the NBA and the NHL as well. It was the last one that had you rethinking it though. The pros well outweighed the only one con that you could think of and that was Jamie Benn. Who’s to say if he’d even remember you though? It wasn’t like you could forget him after what he’d done, but you let him dictate enough of your life; you weren’t about to let him continue. So, you typed up your written acceptance, then called Dr. Ellis to let him know you were taking the job. You’d made a new reputation for yourself this time around and you weren’t about to let Jamie Benn ruin this one. 

#ruined the series #jamie benn #jamie benn smut #jamie benn imagine #jamie benn imagines #jamie benn fanfic #dallas stars #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars imagines #dallas stars fanfic #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfic #hockey smut #hockey imagine #hockey imagines

[amerrierworld]

Babysitter (pt 9)

Thor (Ragnarok) - fanfiction

Pt 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 

Summary: A Loki interlude.

Characters: Hela, Loki

Word Count: 2,111

Warnings: Idk, swearing?

Loki was incredibly annoyed at the current situation. 

He’d woken up on a random, clunky spaceship with a pounding head and a bruised neck. He remembered the world going blank and being quite certain that he’d been dead until, frustratingly so, his lungs gasped for the most painful breath he’d ever taken. 

A janky pirate ship had snatched him from floating in space amongst the debris, stripped him of his armour -no doubt to sell or melt down into other knick knacks- and left him in the back amongst the cargo. They’d presumed he was dead, so when he had woken up, they had a bit of a shock. 

Not a word was comprehensible, Loki couldn't understand whatever gibberish language they spoke, so he ignored them and shuffled to their food supply. That got him a whack on his back from a whip and a kick to the back of the knees. 

Trying to take back his armour also earned him a few bruises. They didn’t seem very dangerous, but quite a nuisance. 

Amongst the cargo he found familiar debris that struck an icy chord inside Loki. There were piles of Asgardian clothing- ripped and filthy, but Asgardian nonetheless. Bags with very few belongings, and metal scraps of the ship they had been on. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the remainder of the ship of refugees was probably lost. When the pirates began to beat him again for rummaging through their stuff, a rusty old pipe amongst the stolen goods helped quiet them down immensely. 

With his kidnappers knocked out, Loki scarfed down what measly rations they had and set course for Earth at light speed -well, the closest speed they got to light speed which was more like a quick paced jog. 

He tied up the crew and tossed them in the back, and lounged in the cockpit as the ship traveled on autopilot, picking scraps of food from between his teeth. 

Communications on this ship were absolute garbage, he concluded. There was barely any signal and he couldn’t figure out where the closest planet was. So, he took a nap, ate some more food, and tried not to think too much about the harrowing experience of Thanos choking him to death.

Hours later, they entered a very familiar atmosphere. Loki let the ship crash-land, grabbed a bag of few supplies and hopped out just before they hit the ground. 

He marched on through the thicket of trees where they landed. Angry shouts that were no doubt curse words echoed from the smoking ship as he left them behind and tried to gather his bearings. 

An old cabin was the first building he saw. With a rusty dagger at the ready, he inspected the home around the back, looking for a vehicle he could take, something to get him moving faster than his legs, when suddenly a high pitched shriek nearly shattered his eardrums.

A young girl, no older than six, was staring at him with big brown eyes. Rain boots covered in mud, an aged stuffy in her hands. Loki put his finger to his lips, dreading that he was going to have to kill the girl before she gave him away or screamed bloody murder. 

“Daddy! There’s an Avenger in the yard!” she sped off towards a shed, where there was a light on inside. Loki’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. Whatever outcome he was expecting, this was by far the worst. 

“I’m not- fuck.”

He shoved the dagger away and out of sight and stomped towards the shed, fuming with annoyance. He was about to go off at the man for letting his daughter talk to random strangers and how he certainly was not an Avenger, but the man in question had a large saw in hand and about 200 pounds of muscle to carry, so he snapped his mouth shut. 

“Oh, hello there,” he said, his daughter bouncing about the workshop. “What brings one of you all the way out here?”

“And where exactly is out here?” Loki asked.

“Canada! What, you superheroes never been to Canada before? Always hanging around New York, eh? Are you taking a trip or something?”

“No. I, uh, crash-landed here.”

“From space?” the girl piped up, gawking.

“Yes, from space,” Loki said through gritted teeth. “Fighting angry aliens.”

“I told you, Daddy! He’s a hero!”

“I bet you’re trying to find your way to America, then? Lord knows why, there’s all kinds of weird things happening around town nowadays.”

“What do you mean?”

“Half the world’s gone! Poof! Just like that, some alien business I bet.”

“Are you going to save us from them?” his daughter asked again. Loki sighed.

“I’ll try my best. Now, can you please show me how to get to New York as fast as possible?”

The lumberjack’s husband took Loki and his daughter in his jeep and drove a merry long way to the nearest airport. On the way, the little girl asked him all sorts of questions about the Avengers, that he could only half-answer.

“Is it true Thor is super powerful?”

“Well. He's not that powerful. He just uses a hammer. Anyone with a hammer can use it as a weapon and suddenly be considered powerful.”

“I wish I had a super powerful hammer. Then my brothers would stop teasing me so much.”

“Hey,” her second father softly scolded.

“They’re mean!”

“Sibling feuds? I know the feeling,” Loki muttered.

“Do you have siblings, Mr. Avenger?”

“Sure do,” he smiled wryly. “Absolute bullies.”

“Me too!”

“Hey now, let our guest settle down a bit,” her dad said. “She gets a little excited around new people, so sorry.”

“It’s no problem.”

“The local airport’s just up here. It’ll take you to Detroit, and then you gotta get a connection flight to New York.”

“Thank you,” Loki said, genuinely.

“Why are you going to New York, Mr. Avenger?”

“To find my siblings,” Loki sighed. “At least, one of them should still be there.”

“But they’re mean to you?”

“Yeah,” Loki pondered as the car came to a stop. “But they’re family. I suppose.”

-

A few cunning lies and disguises later, Loki was suddenly landing in New York, amidst chaos. It had been a few days since he’d woken up, and apparently a few days since what they call the ‘Blip’. Humans clearly don’t like having their realities altered. 

Your home was abandoned. Alfred didn't even greet Loki at the door, and no amount of pulling and prying opened it for him. The lights were off, and he feared the worst.

It wasn’t until he was in the streets and overhead muttering about some crazy goth lady terrorizing a nearby street that Loki thought he had finally found something.  

He marched down the street until, to his surprise, he found Hela sitting hunched on the side walk, scowling and daring anyone to come close to her. She looked incredibly tired and disheveled, but her eyes were clear and angry, and recognized her idiot brother immediately. 

“What the hell brought you back here?” Hela snarled. 

“A toddler’s wisdom, if you’ll believe it,” Loki said, ignoring her glare as he sat down next to her. 

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks. So do you.”

Hela grumbled. 

“Have you eaten?”

“Since when did you become Mother? I don't need your help.”

“Really?” Loki picked up a filthy scoop from a pile of three ice cream tubs that were fully devoured. He dangled it from his fingertips for a moment, pulling a face. “I think you do.”

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Glad to see you too, sister.”

Silence. Hela really did look like shit, Loki noted. Her hair was mussed, and there were rips and broken pieces in her armour, reminiscent of the time they’d met. She had to be weak not to bother fixing it with her powers, or was just too preoccupied to even think to fix it. 

“Where’s Y/N?” Loki asked. 

“Beats me.”

“Did you kill her?”

Hela’s eyes snapped to his, a sudden fire in them. “How dare you say that?”

“Well, her home is abandoned and no one answered the door, and you’re here  cowering like a criminal. One makes conclusions.”

Something changed in her expression, and she turned her body to face him. “Abandoned?”

Loki frowned, “yes. Didn't you know?”

“No- I.. I’ve been here, the last time I saw her...” 

Hela jumped to her feet, nearly kicking Loki in the process. “That bastard, he took her, didn’t he? Him and his awful, forsaken pieces of shit he calls friends.”

“Who?”

“Our darling brother,” she spat. “He came in and- and threatened me, and then took her from me.”

She paced in front of him, green fire trailing behind her heels, hot with anger. She had expected you to come find her, take her back to your home, make her feel safe. But when you never came she had assumed you had abandoned her. Now, knowing Thor had taken you instead, filled her with rage.

“Where does your little posse hang out, hm? Some supposed secret lair? A great big castle in the sky?”

Loki blinked at her, at her sudden outbursts, at the scared glances from passerbys, and didn’t know what to say.

“Fine then, I’ll get her myself,” she growled, turning away from him. 

Loki nearly let her walk away, let her walk into whatever doom she was getting  herself into, but with a groan and a mad realization, he knew she was the only one he could rely on right now.

“Wait,” he said, reluctantly, hurrying after her and grabbing her arm. “You can’t just go running off. Tell me what happened.”

Hela spat at his feet. “I don’t need to tell you anything.”

“You care about her, don't you? Y/N? Why else would you want to ‘rescue’ her from our brother?”

“Be silent,” she hissed.

“No, no, I’m right, aren’t I? You care for her, but you messed up, and now you have no one on your side. That’s why you left, and that’s why Thor had to take her.”

Hela yanked her arm away before Loki could see her face, but he knew what she felt; remorse, and loss. 

“Tell me.”

And so, reluctantly, knowing she had no other choice, Hela sat him down, this time on an actual park bench rather than the ground. She told him what had happened, how her mistrust had turned to affection for you, and how Thanos had destroyed everything in the end, and how the Avengers had fought her out of fear.

“I know the feeling,” Loki agreed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, watching an elderly lady feed a bunch of pigeons as if nothing drastic had happened to the world the past few days. 

“And now I don't know where she is, and she probably hates me, but who am I to blame her for that?”

“If I know anything about Y/N, is that she cares about everyone, but it takes a lot more to win her love. She doesn’t hate you. She’s just afraid. I mean, you did after all break her window and run off into nowhere.”

Hela stayed quiet, made an annoyed sound in her throat, and looked away.

“I’m starving, how did you get all that ice-cream? Why not an actual meal? Or were you just eating your feelings?”

“Y/N doesn’t like it when I kill people, so it was either massacre the street or steal their dairy products,” Hela bristled. 

“Fair enough.”

“Now what, hm? You come out here, seemingly from the dead, chastise me for messing up, and now judge my diet? What do you really want, Loki?”

“Not sure, to be perfectly honest,” Loki said. “I thought I was dead, and then I wasn’t. Frankly, my priorities are shifting.”

“And what is your current priority?”

“Getting you back to Y/N so you stop moping around and fix this.”

“And how do you suppose we do that?”

Loki grinned, standing up. His armour shimmered and regained its full glamour; horned helmet and deep green cloak. 

“Taking notes from me, are we?” Hela grumbled. Loki glared at her.

“I was wearing this look long before you got here. Now, get up, we’re going to infiltrate the Avengers and give you your romantic happily-ever-after so you stop being such a pain in everyone’s neck.”

“You think we’ll just be able to get in? You really are as mad as Father was.”

“I’ve broken into quite a few places over the years, I’ll have you know. I’m the God of Mischief after all.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” Hela stood, her own armour strengthening again. 

“Shut it.”

A/N: Loki is not dead! I know he’s technically alive in an alternate universe or whatever.. but I wanted the Odin Trio to be together sooooo here we are. Let me know what you think!!

taglist: @midnight-lestrange​​ @cheerfullyvenomous​ @germansarechill​@gaylorrds @amii-nyc​ @waitingfortheendtocome​ @novakitten0901​@marvels-writings​ 

#hela #hela x reader #hela/reader #hela x you #hela odinsdottir #thor #thor ragnarok #thor ragnarok fanfiction #loki #loki odinsin #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #cate blanchett #tom hiddleston #best siblings amirite #wlw #lgbt #merry writes

[violet-knox]

Moving On

Year 7 - Chapter 73

Summary: Severus receives some news that upsets him

Word count: 1128

Previous Chapter - Chapter 1

~

These past two weeks had been filled with some of the most exciting yet stressful moments of your life. You and Severus had thrown yourselves into your studies, trying to finish your schooling with a bang, Severus hoping to get within the top 10 highest scores in his N.E.W.T.S for Potions within the U.K. A high goal to set of course, but you believed in him and not a second went by without you fully supporting him, sure he’d have his pick of Potion Masters to study with after graduation.

Though your school adventures had been going well, your hunt for a place to live after graduation wasn’t going as well. And though it stressed you out, you weren’t worried. You knew you’d survive so long as you stuck together, that there was no problem large enough you could battle with him by your side. For now, you would both just focus on your studies, and who knows maybe a nice flat would just fall into your lap when the train dropped you off at London after the term was over.

You both sat there in the grass, the sound of low chatter filling the air around you as every student in the castle tried to prepare for their final exams. Severus always looked so serious when he was studying, like he was trying to find the cure to lycanthropy. It would always distract you when you were trying to study, finding yourself attempting to suppress a smile instead. But these past few days had proven to be so intensive, you found yourself unable to keep your eyes off your textbook. You’d been so focussed on the words in front of you that the sudden woosh of an owl landing right next to you had you nearly jumping out of your spot and pulling out your wand in self defense.

“Bloody hell!” You shouted, clutching your chest as your heart raced with adrenaline. The owl, held up its chest as it stuck out its foot towards Severus, almost as if it delivering this letter was beneath it. You put down your quill as Severus reached out for the letter, the owl flying away almost immediately after Severus untied the letter. You watched him read it with wide eyes, wondering what could possibly have been so important that it couldn’t wait for mail delivery tomorrow morning.

“My mother got a job as a Potions Mistress and is moving to France at the end of the month,” he mumbled as he continued reading the letter. Once he reached the bottom and had unrolled it to the edge, a key fell in his palm. “She-she left me the house.”

Severus sounded almost disappointed, like it was a burden to be given an entire house. He hated that house and he was looking forward to never having to go back there again. He was almost happy to hear his mother wouldn’t be there to pick him up from London this year, he was indifferent about the fact that she’s promised to keep in touch, but he couldn’t believe he would leave him tied to the one thing left in the Muggle world. After everything he’d been through, after everything she had put him through, let me endure all those years, she just had to leave him with this.

“Well that’s great!” You said, wondering if this could be a temporary solution to your housing problem. You knew Severus didn’t like living on Spinner’s End, that he wasn’t fond of the Muggle world, but you thought since he’d had some peace since his father left, perhaps he wouldn’t mind staying there for a few more months until you could find something better. It wasn’t ideal for him, you knew that, but at least it was an option.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Severus grumbled under his breath, crumbling up the letter and stuffing it in his pocket along with the key. Even if he wanted to sell the place, who would buy it. It wasn’t worth anything. Spinner’s End wasn’t a street you moved into, it was a street you abandoned, a street you drove past thanking Merlin you didn’t live there.

“Sev?” You looked at him with worry, wondering what was going through his mind.

Severus shook his head as he closed his eyes, snapping out of the spiral of toxicity he’d found his mind wandering to. “No, it’s good. Good for her for moving on and leaving me here to clean up her mess.”

Your shoulders dropped as you realized the resentment he still held for his parents. You understood his pain, felt for him, but a part of you had hoped he would only think of moving forward instead of looking back. “Severus, I’m sure that wasn’t her intention.”

“No, of course it isn’t because when does she ever think about anyone but herself.” Severus let out a sigh as you grew silent. He couldn’t believe how much anger he still held for his parents, his mother especially. But how could he let it go? He could never forget her ignorance in his father’s abuse, her negligence towards his needs, how he had to find his own clothing, his own secondhand textbooks. He could never forget the humiliation and pain he felt growing up, and he could never let it go, but that didn’t mean he should be placing all that anger with you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell like that. I was just looking forward to leaving that part of my life behind.”

“Sev, you are leaving it behind. Just because you have that house to yourself now, doesn’t mean things have to be like they were before. We’re going to build a new life, remember?”

Severus looks up at you as he nods his head, smiling at your words. You were right. Things would be different and he didn’t have to think of Spinner’s End as the street filled with nothing but depression and misery. It was a new beginning for him, for both of you.

“And if we manage to find a place before graduation, then you can throw away the key and never think about the house again. If not, then we’ll make it a house worth living in.”

“Thank you,” he said softly as you smiled at him before leaning in, kissing him on the cheek. He watched as you picked up your quill and went back to your studies, looking down at his own books and notes filled with potential for his future. He always knew he’d have to work hard to get away from the life he hated so much, but he never imagined having someone beside him, pushing him to his dreams and he was so glad that person was you.

~

Next Chapter

~

#severus snape #severus snape x reader #snape x reader #severus x reader #young severus snape #young severus snape x reader #my fic #my writing #pro snape #snapedom #female reader

[i-donot-forget]

4 Days

My Candy Love - Love Life

Eric - Candy/Sucrette - Nathaniel

Words 2373

Spoilers Ep 12 - 13

So I was thinking about the days between the kiss with Eric and our date four days later, but from his perspective.

I don't speak english very well, so this is like 90% google translate

DAY 0

I ran away like a coward after what I had done, what was I thinking? How did I let it happen? But they weren't my imaginations, she reciprocated, right? The more I tried to remember the details of that slip, my mind could only think of one thing, her and the softness of her lips, steal her breath, her glassy eyes and flushed cheeks despite my misdeed, I couldn't help but smile because the reality was more delicious than anything I had imagined. 

The loneliness of my apartment took me out of my reverie, now I had to deal with the consequences of my actions, the only question was when? surely as soon as she got home she would tell him how I took advantage of the situation, maybe Nathaniel was on his way here right now to beat me up, which I deserve anyway ...

I still felt the light touch of her perfume on me and it was driving me crazy, I went to take a cold shower with the horrible sensation of hearing a knock on the door, a product of my tormented imagination. I could not think and I had no one to talk to, I was going around the place like a caged lion, I looked at the clock again helpless when I saw that even time was making fun of me, I changed with the idea that there was only one thing that could distract me now, go for a run. I was going fast, lost in my thoughts with the uncomfortable feeling that I was being followed, stopped at a traffic light I was left blank when I saw a blond guy in a white jacket on the other side of the sidewalk, I knew it was not him and even so I could not take my eyes off him until I was 100% sure, I trotted past him receiving the smoke from his cigar fully on my face, By the time I got to the other side of the street, I needed a cigarette more than I needed oxygen. 7 years in the trash, I thought as I ripped off the plastic and opened the box, that first puff was the only thing that managed to calm me down a bit and before I knew it I was on the second.

I walked home calmer or the fact that my head was spinning absorbed some of my attention but when I closed the door the adrenaline and excitement had passed, now I was on the floor, I saw the time and resigned that tonight I could not sleep I dropped into the chair in front of the table that was overflowing with reports, I opened the laptop and gave myself to the escape who had rescued me from Melissa for the last year and there I could see an e-mail from Ben that I should have checked that afternoon if I wouldn't have been in such a rush to get to a certain cafe at 8pm.

DAY 1

By the time the sun rose I could no longer bear the thought of not knowing what to expect, so I called Nathaniel against my logic and common sense, put the phone on speakerphone, and put it on the table as I clung to the wood tightly. Each ringtone fed my paranoia. I expected the worst, screams, insults, threats, at the very least, and then he answered, I stammered incoherencies until I realized that he didn't know, she hadn't told him… yet. I told him about the information Ben had sent me feeling slightly relieved, I hung up the phone calmer but not better, this secret was a time bomb and I felt like garbage. 

I froze as I tightened the doorknob, because by inertia my feet would take me straight to the Cozy Bear, like every morning before work and every afternoon at closing time, but I couldn't go back there like nothing else, I was a criminal returning to the scene of the crime simply couldn't break into her space after what had happened, not without her authorization. I walked towards the station in the company of a cigarette and for some reason I could not remember when was the last time I had done this, I was tense, distracted, I could not concentrate even on the simplest idea my mind was restless and I simply could not ignore the why, I would have to look at his face and act like every day, I had to be convincing and it felt horrible. I hesitated before entering and after crossing the entrance I stopped for a few seconds to look inside, searching quickly, I took a deep breath out of inertia thinking I still had a few minutes left.

- I am glad I am not the only one who is affected by the investigation . -

A friendly slap on my shoulder caused me an exaggerated start but Nathaniel passed by directly to the Chief's office, I saw how he stopped at the threshold, looked at me and gestured for me to enter. I explained the progress in the investigation with few details until our superior resumed the meeting, luckily without a field operation on the agenda I could keep my distance without raising suspicions. The day was eternal and tortuous but it was already after 10 o'clock at night when I went to vent to the gym, 3 hours later I was at home, another night awake.

DAY 2

-  It is the second day you arrive smelling of cigarettes instead of coffee. I believed that with age your habits would improve, not worsen. Is the wisdom of old age a myth? -

Nathaniel joked as the sound of his fists on the punching bag filled the air, I set the dumbbell I was lifting on the ground before giving him a look.

- Yes, yes, I want to see in what condition you will be when you are my age, young man. -

- But seriously, two days without coffee? That's a record, the Cozy Bear will go broke without you. -

- Yes, well I'm changing the coffee for the gym. With the whole move in I realized that I am not in such good shape. -

- Have you already adapted to your new apartment? -

- I finally have a bedside lamp so even though I don't have a TV, or real china, I was able to finish the last book you recommended. -

- Great. Did you start something new? -

- Yes, in fact I'm already halfway there... it's something different, more suspense with some science fiction. -

- Boring… -

- Whatever you say... to tell the truth... I had discussed it with... Candy. -

- Oh yeah? -

- Yes, now that I think about it... she asked me for the reference, I saved an article from the internet with several titles of the same style. -

- Would you send it to her? will you do me a favor. -

- Sure, mmmh I don't have her number. -

- My phone is in my jacket, the pass is 4444. -

- Don't you know her number by heart? -

- Mmmm no. -

Upon unlocking the screen, the background photo was like a kick in the stomach, it was her with a beaming smile, which I did not remember ever seeing, I imagine that smile is only for him. I looked for the contact, "Honey" of course ... I sent it and put the phone quickly as if it burned in my hands.

I avoided the excused lunch with an imaginary date with a divorce lawyer, I drove through the city with no clear destination, away from those streets where by any chance of life I could come across her, I parked at a gas station when it became apparent that no matter how long I was behind the wheel I would not find the right words and finally I called her, dial tone and after a few minutes, mailbox. Come on again, she must be tending the cafe after all. Second try, back to the mailbox, this is more difficult than I thought. What if she doesn't want to answer me? No, how could she know it's me, maybe she has my number. But what nonsense are you saying? Of course she doesn't have your number, let's go once again the third time's the charm. And I was defeated, after the third attempt I did not have the courage to call again and the uncertainty began to fill my head, I drove back to the station with a thousand ideas going through my head and in all of them I am the villain.

I was collapsed on the desk in my office after the afternoon meeting when the phone rang, seeing her name on the screen made my heart race, I closed the blind on the door window and I hesitated for a moment before locking with key.

- Hello, Candy? Thanks for calling me back. I think we should talk ... -

- Eric? I don’t remember giving you my number. -

Yes ... I simply continue to deceive Nath to calm this uncertainty that is killing me, I continued to accumulate crimes and although I believed that I was prepared to face the consequences, I was surprised at myself, at what I was willing to do to find out. 

- Ahem... I asked Nath for it. I told him I wanted to share the name of the book we had talked about with you but… we both know that’s not the reason. I wanted for us to talk... about what happened between us, the other night. -

- And ... You couldn't have just stopped by? On the phone, it's a bit ... -

- I agree! But I wasn't sure that you wanted to see me. Well, anyway… -

- Okay, well, you know where to find me, right? I don't close before 8, if you haven’t forgotten… -

- Well ... I'm busy today... And tomorrow. I thought…… Maybe we can get a drink together in two days? I promise, it won't take long. -

- Uh… Okey, see you after tomorrow, then! -

When she hung up I felt that the world was turning again, that everything had stopped just with her voice, in the middle of all this a part of me was glad to hear her again. Little by little the plea that had almost stuttered became clearer,she could still hate me, disown me and want me as far as possible from her life. Maybe that was what I deserved, maybe that was for the best.

That night I slept fitfully waking up with a start until dawn, a single nightmare repeated itself in a loop, she laughing in my face for having been so stupid as to believe that there was something between us, that I was mistaken her sympathy for interest and I don't know how I could even dream of her leaving him for… for someone like me.

DAY 3

Jogging accompanied by the morning dew helped me wake up after not resting, somehow a choppy night's sleep was more harmful than a sleepless night, this lack was beginning to take its toll and it was already more than evident in my face that I was not having a good day. Today I would have a little field operation, nothing more to watch in case I saw anything suspicious, although I definitely couldn't see anything if I could barely keep my eyes open.

I hadn't been able to escape lunch today and Nath had already been staring at me for a couple of minutes.

- Everything is fine? -

Hearing that question aloud I hesitated, as if I was no longer physically capable of following this lie, I thought of confessing everything to him, not just the kiss, but this forbidden feeling that I had allowed myself to cultivate, how traitorous and scoundrel I was, but then I thought about her, and how I couldn't take away from her what belonged to her by right, if someone had to be the great antagonist it was me, the only one who would have to pay for deception and lies.

- Yes ... Although I think my attempt to give up coffee for something healthier is ironically killing me, I think I'll go back to my old habits. -

- Take care Eric, I still need you around for a while, someone has to stick up for this department. -

Who would say that words could cause physical pain felt like his words were digging into my back and blocking my throat. I could only smile. Sitting alone in an incognito vehicle my mind was blank, no, not blank really an idea had been fixed in my head as a clue that appears after rereading for the tenth time ... I could not, I simply could not do that to Nath, this had all been a huge mistake, a confusing and totally out of place situation, and it had to end as soon as possible. 

That night I couldn't sleep either, I spent the hours thinking about her, saying goodbye in some way to the moments that I had collected in my memory, I had kept this absurd fantasy for too long and I couldn't continue lying to myself.

DAY 4

This morning I was calm, despite being the day of our meeting, but perhaps it was not tranquility but resignation, today the suspense ended, this story that should never have existed ended.

The hours passed quickly because I had already made a decision, if I wanted to end this forever there should be no doubt, I had to tell her absolutely everything, so when she rejects me and denies each and every one of my hopes, I could turn off that light that still wants to see her, that not even the fact that she is with someone else has been able to extinguish, it must be her and it must be brutal.

I was surprised at how quickly the orange glow of the evening began to creep in through my office window, it seemed that after all I did not really want to go to my “date”. My discouragement was turning into nervousness with each step I took, by the time I realized I was outside the cafe.

And then I saw you through the window and I smiled without being able to contain myself because only when I saw you did I realize that I missed you and that I had not liked spending so many days without seeing you and that everything even seemed a little brighter... 

Oh… Shit, I'm really screwed...

#MCL #mclll #mcl fanfic #mcl eric #my english is shit

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Season 1, Episode 9: Wolf’s Bane

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)

Notes: This ended up being way longer than I anticipated, but I lost all self control while writing. Someone please stop me before this turns into an entire full length novel about Teen Wolf...

P.S. Derek is resurrected just long enough to be helpful, Y/N gets a lesson in seeing the future, and we finally identify the alpha (which is, of course, groundbreaking information for us all)

                                                      ————————

My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag as I walked through the doors of the high school. My stomach was in knots. It had been for days, actually. It’d gotten all twisted up last Friday, after I drove Allison and Jackson home, somehow managing to only get worse with each passing day.

To say that I was dreading today would be the worlds most massive understatement.

I wasn’t looking forward to seeing anyone. Not Allison, because the guilt I felt every time I looked at her was starting to eat me alive. Not Lydia or Jackson, because they’re both way too self-absorbed to be around when you’re feeling down. And I absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent would not be talking to Scott or Stiles.

As if on cue, my eyes landed on Scott’s dejected frame as I neared my locker. He was leaning against it, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes rose from the tiled floor to meet mine, and I stopped.

Nope.

I turned on my heel and speed walked the other way. I would gladly carry my things around all day over talking to him right now. He called my name, but I continued as if I hadn’t heard him. Within seconds, he was at my side. 

I let out a frustrated huff. I thought I could outrun him longer than that.

“Hey! You can’t just ignore me for an entire weekend.” He hissed the words out in a rush, as if he had any right to be angry with me.

He’d been ridiculously persistent about apologizing. I’d gotten so many texts and calls from him that I had to eventually just turn my phone off. When I did that, he showed up at my house. I was pretty sure he stayed out there for a couple hours on Saturday, but I locked myself in my room upstairs, so I wasn’t positive.

My jaw clenched as I forced my gaze to stay on the hall in front of me. He kept up with my quick pace easily, unrelenting. I felt his eyes boring into the side of my head, urging me to respond.

I had so much to say, but no idea how to get the words out. I was still furious with him. He’d ruined whatever I had with Stiles in the most spectacularly dickish way and, to top it off, nearly killed me. Like, how the fuck do you even begin talking about that?

“Will you at least tell me if you’re okay? Y/N!” At the harsh snap of my name, I spun around to face him with a glare.

He staggered back a step, an arm raising defensively, and stared at me with wide eyes.

“You want me to talk to you? Then tell me what the hell is going on.” My voice was hard with days-long built up anger.

“What do you mean?” He just blinked, trying to look innocent, and I scoffed.

“You’ve been keeping things from me.” I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows expectantly.

It was absurdly obvious at this point. He and Stiles both knew way more about well, everything, than I did. The alpha. The full moon. Jackson. I could just feel it. I was being kept out of the loop, despite them constantly roping me into their supernatural problems.

They either needed to start giving me all the information, or just leave me out of it entirely.

He looked like he was about to argue, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he thought better of it with a heavy sigh. He glanced away briefly to scan the bustling hallway before finding my eyes again. “To protect you.”

A rush of air left my lungs in a harsh scoff. Was he actually serious right now?

“I don’t need protection.” I snapped, appalled that he would even try that excuse. I didn’t need him deciding what was best for me, or what information was safe to tell me. “I need to know what’s happening!”

“I can’t...” His voice broke regretfully, his eyes rounding with sadness. There was an internal conflict raging behind them, but the wrong side was winning.

My heart tugged painfully as I blinked back a few frustrated tears. I didn’t let myself get emotional over the weekend. I don’t know why, I just couldn’t. There was still too much to process. It was like I was being forced to complete a puzzle for my life with only a third of the pieces available.

Ultimately, it felt like he didn’t trust me. After everything I’d helped him and Stiles with, I deserved to be an equal partner. Not someone they call when no one else can help because they don’t know he’s a werewolf. Not someone they keep at arms length.

“Then maybe we can’t be friends.” My voice was barely above a whisper as I choked the words out.

I didn’t want to believe that it’d already come to that. He and Stiles were the first people in all the places I’ve lived that never judged me. Our friendship had been surprisingly organic, despite the way it started. I’d never felt like an outsider.

Well, until they started keeping secrets from me.

I stuck around just long enough to catch the crestfallen look on his face before I turned and walked away.

I tugged a hand through my hair and tried to collect myself as I neared my first period class. The break from my problems was short lived, since I share it with him, Stiles, and Allison. My eyes immediately found Stiles as soon as I walked through the classroom door. He was leaning back in his seat, balancing a pencil between his two pointer fingers.

His eyes slowly rose to meet mine and he perked up with a jolt, the pencil clattering to the floor. I looked away, already feeling my resolve crumble at the sight of his big, honey eyes. I slid into my desk which was, unfortunately, right behind him.

I bent down to place my bag onto the tiles beside my feet, taking my time rummaging through its contents to find my English folder. When I eventually sat upright, I reeled back at the sight of Stiles turned around to face me.

One of his plaid covered arms was slung across the back of his chair, his fingers tapping anxiously on the corner of my desk. He looked at me with rounded, hopeful eyes. I swallowed as my heart skipped a beat at the sight. I needed to hold it together. I was mad at him.

“Can we talk?” He murmured timidly as his eyes swept over my face.

I’d gotten a handful of messages from him over the weekend, too, but he’d given me more room to breathe than Scott. Before I could even fully process his question, a harsh voice drew my attention away from him. 

“Y/N, what the hell?” Allison plopped into her seat beside me, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. “You didn’t answer me all weekend. How are you doing?”

Shit. I’d honestly forgotten about the few texts she’d sent after I turned my phone off. A moment later, Scott walked into the room, eyes firmly planted on the floor. I sunk down into my chair, feeling like the walls were closing in around me. I couldn’t face them all at once right now.

Allison threw a hand up in exasperation and I chewed on my bottom lip anxiously. I had to say something.

“I’m...fine.” Yeah, that didn’t sound remotely close to believable, even to my own ears.

I was fine, though. Mostly. The pain in my leg had dissipated enough that some Advil in the morning made it bearable throughout the day. Emotionally, though? I hadn’t even began working through everything. Scott slowly sat at his desk right in front of Allison, shoulders slumped.

“Are you sure? You literally flew like twenty feet in the air.” Her eyes were wide with concern as she watched me closely. Man, I really am the worst friend in the world for ignoring her. If something like that happened to her, I’d be worried sick.

I saw Scott stiffen from the corner of my eye. 

“Whoa, wait a minute. Back up. What are we talking about here?” Stiles’ eyes twitched before jumping back and forth between us.

I let my gaze flicker back to him, surprised. He didn’t know? I glanced at Scott, chest tightening at his guilt ridden expression. Well, I guess there’s my answer.

“Sorry.” Allison mouthed the word silently with a grimace before turning toward the front of the room.

“Hey. Yeah. Stiles talking. What the hell?” I rested my elbows on my desk and rubbed at my temples, letting my eyes fall closed.

It was way too early for all of this. It wasn’t my job to tell him that his best friend almost killed me. We weren’t even on speaking terms right now. Plus, I couldn’t say anything in front of Allison anyway. I was stuck, and I could feel his eyes watching me closely.

“Alright everyone, let’s get started.” Our teacher walked into the room and threw his stuff onto his desk loudly.

I peaked up through my arms, watching as Stiles’ eyes narrowed and lingered on mine for a long moment. He pursed his lips and hesitated before finally turning his back to me. I let out a relieved breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

This was going to be such a long day.

                                                         ————————

I walked into the cafeteria, feeling emotionally exhausted. I’d spent the first half of the day avoiding anyone who tried talking to me. After class this morning, I was even more aware of the fact that I didn't have the mental capacity to deal with my problems right now. 

My eyes instantly landed on Scott and Stiles, who were sitting by themselves. I let my gaze wander over the room until I found Allison and Lydia. They were sitting clear on the opposite end, which was a little overkill, if you ask me.

It was weird to see our friend group so separated, but Allison and Scott were still barely speaking, and Jackson was M.I.A because he decided to break up with Lydia via text this morning. 

While I wasn't the least bit surprised, and honestly glad to be rid of him, she was still devastated. I headed in their direction, not looking forward to repairing another broken heart, when I heard something that made me stop. 

“Scott. Can you hear me? You can, can’t you?” It was Jackson, standing in a corner by the vending machines. 

My brows furrowed as I followed his intense gaze to where Scott and Stiles sat. Scott was whispering something frantically, looking panicked. 

“Are you trying to pretend not to hear me?” Jackson sounded way too smug for his own good, which honestly wasn’t unusual. 

Scott snapped at Stiles across the room, who just threw his hands up with a shrug.

“So what else can you do? Huh? Can you see better? Are you stronger? More powerful? I knew there was no way you suddenly got that good at lacrosse. Which means you’re actually a cheater, aren't you? I mean, can you even play lacrosse?”

I watched as Scott’s jaw clenched angrily, my heart dropping into my stomach at his words. His fingers tightened around the water bottle he was holding, his entire arm trembling with barely contained rage. 

“I bet my new co-captain is going to score a bunch of shots tonight. Aren’t you? And while you’re pretending you’re not a lying cheat, I’m gonna ruin your life if you don't give me what I want. You know what I’m going to start with? Her.”

My eyes flickered toward Allison, who was laughing at something Lydia said, blissfully unaware of what was happening. “I’m going to destroy any chance you have left with her. And when I’m done with that, I’m going to get her alone, and get my hands all over that tight little body...”

Oh, my God. Okay. I did not need to hear anymore of that. I started walking toward Scott and Stiles briskly, my heart racing. 

Jackson knows. How the hell does he know? Why didn't they tell me he knows?

A few seconds later, I stumbled to a halt in front of their table. Stiles looked up at me with wide eyes, lips parting mid-chew. I ignored him, putting a hand on the table and leaning down so there were only a few inches between Scott and I. 

“Did you tell Jackson?” I hissed quietly, sounding way more freaked out than I meant to. 

He sat there for a few moments, his jaw tensing repeatedly as he tried to tune him out. His eyes flickered up to mine, intense anger swirling inside them. “No. How do you even—it doesn’t matter. That’s the least of my worries right now.”

“That’s the least of your worries?” My voice rose with surprise. Just how much had they been keeping from me?

He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. I turned my head and saw that Jackson had disappeared. 

“So...are you talking to me again?” His tone had lost some of it’s edge, but I could tell he was still fuming internally. 

I stood up straight and squared my shoulders. I’d nearly forgotten that I was supposed to be ignoring them. “No. I just...” 

“If you were...would you help me with something?” He looked hopeful, and I took a moment to consider it. 

“No.” Stiles interjected before I had a chance to respond. He glared at Scott before his hard eyes moved to me. “No. You’re not getting involved.” 

My mouth dropped open in surprise. Who the hell did he think he was? He had no right to tell me what to do. In fact, his dismissal only made me want to do it more.

“I’ll help.” I narrowed my eyes at Stiles angrily before moving my attention to Scott. “If you tell me everything that’s going on.”

He pursed his lips, looking thoughtful. A jolt of hope rose through my chest. 

“No way. Not gonna happen.” Stiles scoffed, his tray clattering against the table as he slammed his water bottle down onto it. 

My eyes jerked back to him, my jaw clenching. “Stilinski, I swear to—”

“Y/N.” Scott interrupted, his voice soft. “He’s actually right. It’s better this way.”

I stood there for a moment, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. I couldn't believe they were being so stubborn about this. It seemed like things had shifted so suddenly. One day, I was helping them with everything and the next, I’m being left out entirely. 

“Fine. I’ll find out myself.” I huffed and turned on my heel, stalking away from them and right through the doors. 

I didn't stop until I stomped my way out into the parking lot. I was beyond over their secrets and lies. I wanted answers, and I knew where to get them. I wasn’t exactly jumping at the chance to do what I was about to do, but this person said they’d help me once before. 

I just hoped the offer was still good. 

                                                             ———————

I looked up at the house and let out a long sigh, shaking my arms at my sides to get rid of some of the nerves vibrating through me. I can do this. 

It’s not scary. It’s not scary. It’s not—

I nearly jumped out of my skin as something rustled in a nearby tree, but felt my shoulders sag with relief as a squirrel ran across the ground in front of me. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to gather enough courage to get closer. 

I forced myself up the rickety porch steps, one foot in front of the other. My hand came up and lightly rapped on the front door. The second my knuckles connected with the chipped wood, it swung open with a loud squeal. 

I peaked my head inside, squinting through the darkness that blanketed the entrance despite it being the middle of the day. “Derek?”

It didn’t look like he was here. It didn't look like anything living had been here for awhile, actually. Almost every surface in the house was covered by a thin layer of dust, broken furniture cluttering the space. I took a tentative step inside, my heartbeat rising as I glanced around. Truthfully, I was still terrified of the guy, but he’d saved me from Scott a few days ago. I knew he couldn't be all bad. 

The floorboards creaked at the top of the stairs, and my head whipped in that direction. My eyes scanned the area as best they could through the dark, but didn’t find anything. I tried to steady my breathing as I continued forward. Another sound made me whirl around, but once again, I was alone. Okay. Maybe this was a bad idea. I should just leave. 

I turned toward the door, and immediately let out a startled scream at the sight of a tall figure standing right in front of me. 

“Y/N.” Derek greeted, his voice entirely too level. 

I put a hand on my chest and tried to catch my breath. “Goddamn. Do you always have to do that?”

His eyes wandered over my face skeptically, his lips pressed into a firm line. I took a small step back, my shoulders tensing. Even if I knew he wasn’t completely evil, he was still scary as shit. 

“What exactly are you doing here?” 

“You’ve been helping Scott, right?” I wheezed out, deciding to get right to business. He just stared at me blankly, so I continued. “Well he hasn't really been honest with me lately, and I want answers.”

His thick brows pulled together as he took a slow step toward me. “And you thought I would give them to you?” 

I scrambled back again, watching him closely. I wasn't even sure if he was trying to be intimidating. His whole aura was just...a lot. It was the leather jacket he always wore, and the scowl that seemed permanently etched into his face. Not to mention the fact that he somehow always found a way to emerge from the shadows. 

“I...I don't know.” I stammered, losing the small bit of confidence I had. 

“I would say, if Scott doesn't want you involved, it’s probably for a good reason.” His hazel eyes stayed locked onto mine. They were almost impossible to read. 

It was obvious he wasn't going to tell me anything. I couldn’t even pretend to be surprised. I knew it was a long shot. I figured, though, that while I was here I should bring up something else that’d been nagging at me...

“A few weeks ago, you said you could help me learn control.” I rushed the words out, my skin prickling with anxiety.

He studied me for a moment, his eyes narrowing slowly. “So?”

“So...” I drawled, squaring my shoulders in an effort to look confident. “Help me.”

                                                          ———————

“Y/N, just concentrate.” 

I blew out a frustrated huff and let my eyes pop open. 

“What do you think I’ve been doing for the last hour?” I snapped, sagging back into the dilapidated couch we sat on. 

Derek had been trying to help me “vision”, as he called it, for what felt like an eternity. I wasn’t getting anywhere despite his advice. He apparently knew a lot about almost every supernatural creature there was. Not that I fell into that category. I was more like...supernatural adjacent. 

He’d made sure I knew that I was still human, but I was already well aware. There’s no super strength or heightened reflexes going on here. Just bad dreams and occasional sleepwalking. 

“You need to find something that helps you get control. We call it an anchor.” He insisted from beside me, resting his elbows on his knees and gesturing with his hands. 

“An anchor.” I said slowly, trying the word out for myself.

He nodded and rose to his feet suddenly. “It can be a feeling, a memory, an object...even a person. It’s just something that helps you concentrate and focus your power.”

I watched as he walked across the room and crouched down a few feet away. He inspected the floor for a few moments before picking something up and striding back to where I sat. He held his hand out, palm facing the ceiling, and my face scrunched in confusion. 

“Why are you giving me a rock?” My gaze flickered back up to his face and he rolled his eyes impatiently. It was the first actual emotion—other than anger—I’d ever seen him express.

“It’s just a physical object to help you. Try to think about something that makes you feel a strong emotion.” I studied the small stone skeptically, but eventually took it from him.

I rolled it around in my palm, trying to wrack my brain for anything that could cause a reaction. I went over the past few weeks, letting my eyes fall closed. 

I thought about mom, and how she’d packed up her entire life several times just so I could have a chance at a normal life. I thought about how quickly Allison and I had become friends, and how horrible it was that I was still keeping everything from her. I thought about Lydia, and wondered if she would ever stop pretending to be a moron. And Jackson, well, I was pretty sure there were no redeeming qualities beneath his superficial exterior. 

Then, my mind wandered to Scott. Ever since that first night I moved into the house next to his, he’d been a constant in my life. For better or worse. I’d helped him through so many ridiculous situations. Digging up Derek’s sister, avoiding death at the hands of Allison’s family, and running from the alpha to name a few. He’d been there for me countless times, too. 

And lastly...there was Stiles. My heart twisted painfully at the thought of him, my face falling into a grimace. 

“There.” Derek spoke up suddenly, making me jump. My eyes fluttered open to look at him in question. “Whatever you just did was working.”

My skin exploded with heat as embarrassment rushed through me, even though he had no idea what I’d been thinking about. Great. My anchor is a spastic teenage boy who spends most of his time lying to me. 

“Try again.” Derek insisted and sat back down on the other end of the couch. I let out a long sigh. 

Here goes nothing.

My eyes slipped closed and I let my mind wander back to Stiles. I replayed our most significant moments together. Like all the times he protected me at the school that night we were trapped, and the way he’d kissed me out of relief when I didn't get eaten alive. Then there were the two times we’d shared a bed. Those were the only nights I’d managed to escape my vivid, and sometimes terrifying dreams since moving here. 

I thought back to last week and felt my lips pull into a frown. All my recent memories of him had been tarnished by the secrets he was keeping. 

My fingers clenched around the rock. It suddenly felt like my senses were dulling. My brows furrowed as I started to drift off. It didn’t feel like I was falling asleep, just that I wasn’t fully conscious in the present. My mind was going somewhere else. 

My skin slowly went numb. My ears rang as the sound of Derek’s shuffling beside me drifted into nothingness. The ground shifted beneath me and my eyes jerked open.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat as shock surged through me. I was standing in the middle of a field. It was dark, the only illumination coming from the massive overhead spotlights. My head whipped from side to side as I tried to figure out exactly where I was.

It was...the lacrosse field? At school? I took a few tentative steps forward, arms wrapping around myself as the frigid air bit into my skin. 

What the hell was this? I was just in Derek’s house a second ago. Was I hallucinating or something?

I let out a shuddering breath, a cloud of condensed air fanning my face. Just then, a bloodcurdling scream sounded from behind me. I spun on my heel painfully fast, but immediately stiffened at the sight on the other end of the field.

There was someone crumpled on the turf, covered in blood. I moved forward slowly, feeling a strong urge to see who it was. The only thing I could hear was the hammering of my own heart in my ears. There wasn’t a single other soul around, adding to the eerie emptiness.

It felt like it took days to reach the body. When I got close enough to see their face, though, I broke out into a sprint.

It was Lydia.

She was wearing what looked like a formal dress, blood splattered across her torso. I fell onto my knees beside her, hands shaking as they gripped her shoulders. I turned her onto her back and brushed big clumps of strawberry blonde hair away from her face.

I couldn’t tell if she was breathing. My eyes flickered down to her side and I reeled back at the sight of deep bite marks just above her hip. With a grimace, I bent over her body and placed my ear against her chest to try and hear a heartbeat.

Oh, God. Please have a heartbeat.

I froze at the sound of rustling from the tree line nearby. My gaze slowly lifted, landing on two glowing red eyes in the shadows.

Only this time, they were attached to a man.

With a harsh gasp, my eyes popped open. I sputtered out a few coughs and felt a steadying hand at my back, pulling me up into a sitting position. My eyes moved around frantically as I tried to get my bearings.

My shoulders sagged as I realized I was back in Derek’s house. Had I even left? What the hell was that? When did I lay down?

He leaned close, his eyes searching mine. “What did you see?”

I blinked, trying to process what the hell just happened. I’d never experienced anything like that in my life. It felt so real. 

“Lydia.” I gasped, my chest heaving with labored breaths.

I put a hand over my heart, trying to steady it. My head jerked from side to side as I took in the dusty floors and broken walls around me. I wasn’t fully convinced that I was actually here. 

“Okay, good.” Derek nodded encouragingly, and my eyes snapped back to his. “What was she doing?”

My mouth opened and closed a few times as I tried to gather my thoughts. I finally got my breathing under control, but my heart was still clattering in my chest painfully. It felt like I’d just been in a dream, but it wasn't like any dream I’d ever had before. My stomach twisted painfully. I knew exactly what it was, but that meant...

“Y/N.” He urged, eyes still studying my every move. 

“I—” I swallowed, trying to collect myself. “I think she was dead.”

                                                          ———————

This plan was beyond stupid. 

I was sitting in the passenger seat of Derek’s car, which was parked in front of the long term care section of the hospital. Since he’d helped me earlier, I agreed to do him a favor. Apparently that meant I’d be talking to his comatose uncle’s nurse. 

He told me that Stiles had traced the weird text Allison got that night we were stuck in the school, and it came from a computer here while logged into Ms. McCall’s account. The fact that I knew nothing about any of this made me ten times angrier with him. 

“And what is Scott doing again?” I sighed, unbuckling my seatbelt. 

“Stealing Allison’s necklace.” Derek deadpanned, as if it should’ve been obvious. 

“Right. Of course, because it has a symbol on it that your sister left as a clue for you...”

I glanced over at him and he nodded slowly, face as stoic as ever. I swear this guy has never smiled a day in his life. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

I popped the car door open and stepped outside, letting my eyes slowly scan the building. I swallowed nervously and stole one last glance at Derek over my shoulder. His eyebrows rose expectantly and I forced myself to turn back around.

I had a bad feeling deep in my gut, but tried to ignore it as I hesitantly stepped toward the door. I wrapped my fingers around the handle and let out a long breath. This was fine. Just because I was doing a favor for a slightly terrifying werewolf, didn’t mean I was going to get hurt.

I pulled the door open and took a few tentative steps inside. When I noticed a moment later that the place was completely deserted, I froze. There wasn’t a single other person around, nothing but eerie silence filling the space. It was late, yeah, but there should be someone here. 

“Uh...hello?” I called, hoping the nurses were just on break nearby or something.

When I got no response, I continued forward slowly. I scanned the area quickly, trying to find any signs of life. The unusual stillness made the hairs on my arms stand up straight with apprehension. I peered through the glass above the welcome desk to my left, trying to find anything useful.

Well, as long as no one is around...

I jogged around the desk and jiggled the mouse beside the computer. The screen hummed to life and I glanced up quickly to make sure I was still alone, before clicking through the open tabs until I found the patient database.

I hastily typed Peter Hale—the name of Derek’s uncle—and quickly scanned his file. I found his room number easily and shut the computer down before going on my way.

As soon as I turned the corner, though, I ran smack into a hard chest. I let out a surprised yelp and stumbled over my own feet, the other person rearing back with a dramatic flail of their arms.

“Jesus! What are you doing here?” Stiles practically yelled, his voice a mixture of anger and shock as he looked at me with wide eyes.

Well, damn. I wasn’t expecting that. 

“What are you doing here?” I leaned toward him and hissed, my voice a harsh whisper despite us being the only people around. “You’re supposed to be starting tonight.”

His eyes lit up with surprise and I felt a blush creep up my neck. I’d heard from Lydia that he’d been promoted to first line on the lacrosse team. It wasn’t like I was keeping tabs on him or anything, but he’d been hoping for this all year, so I was confused to see him here instead. The game should be starting any minute.

“I’m just...checking something out.” He stuttered, one of his hands coming up to scratch at the back of his head.

I rolled my eyes and turned on my heel, ready to walk away from him. He just couldn’t stop lying to me. It didn’t matter anyway. I had a mission to accomplish and I shouldn’t be wasting time by talking to him.

I only made it a few steps before a gentle hand gripped my elbow.

“Hey,” He called softly, and I hesitated a moment before turning to face him. “Scott told me what happened. Are you okay?”

I let my eyes trail over him slowly. He still wore the white undershirt and blue plaid button-up he’d had on at school, but had added his black jacket on top. The same one he’d let me borrow a few times before. He was studying me with his big, caramel eyes.

He looked and sounded like the same Stiles, but something felt different between us. After the events of the last few days, it was like there was a roadblock whenever we tried talking. We were more distant than we’d ever been, and it didn’t sit right in my chest.

I opened my mouth to respond, but paused when my phone started ringing loudly in my back pocket. I tugged my arm out of his hold and quickly pulled it out of my back pocket, scoffing when I saw Derek’s name on the screen.

“What?” I sighed, hoping he didn’t need me to do anything else. I wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible.

“Did you find her?” He rushed the words out quickly, sounding anxious.

My eyes flickered to Stiles, who was watching me closely, his brows pinched in confusion. I just walked around him and started toward Peter’s room. I heard his quick footsteps as he trailed after me, but tried my best to ignore him.

“No one is here.” I finally made it to his room and stopped in the doorway. It was empty, too.

“What?” Derek barked, voice rising.

“What do you mean, what? His nurse isn’t here, and he’s gone too. Are you sure this—”

“Y/N, you have to get out of there. Right now. It’s him. He’s the alpha! Get out!”

I staggered back a step at his frantic yelling and let my arm fall down to my side, ending the call. My heart lurched in my chest as I heard shuffling from around the corner.

“Was that Derek?” Stiles snapped anxiously behind me. “Did he just say—”

“Well, hello there.” My head jerked to the side at the sudden voice, my eyes widening as they landed on a man who was leaning against the wall a few feet away.

He was partially cloaked in darkness, but I could make out that he was tall and had shaggy brown hair. His lips twitched up into a slow smirk and I noticed that half of his face was covered in nasty looking scars. I could only assume that it was Peter.

Stiles suddenly gripped my hand and tugged me down the hall with him as he started running away. We only made it a few steps before a nurse appeared out of nowhere, stepping into our path. We stumbled back, nearly crashing right into her.

“What are you doing here? Visiting hours are over.” She practically snarled with a sinister smile.

“You...” Stiles pointed at her with a shaky hand, looking between her and Peter frantically. “And him...you’re the one...oh my—and he’s the...oh my God, we’re gonna die.”

Just then, Derek stepped around the corner and smashed his elbow into the nurse’s face. I staggered back with a gasp, not expecting the violent move. She crumpled to the floor in a heap, passed out cold. I just stared at her body with wide eyes.

“Oh, that’s not nice...” My head whipped around as Peter drawled lazily. “That’s my nurse.”

“She’s a psychotic bitch helping you kill people.” Derek took a threatening step forward, his face a hardened mask of anger. “Get out of the way.”

He hadn’t even so much as glanced at us as he muttered the words, but it was obvious who he was talking to. Stiles wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against his chest before sliding us to the floor. I pressed my back into the wall, my body trembling with fear.

“You think I killed Laura on purpose? One of my own family?” Peter strode toward Derek quickly, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Stiles murmured, causing my eyes to snap up toward him. He had one arm wrapped around me, the other propped up against the wall caging me in safely. His eyes flickered over me quickly as if surveying for signs of damage. 

Derek suddenly growled loudly, and I peered around Stiles’ shoulder just in time to see his eyes flashing bright blue as he snarled, his canines extending. He jumped up, using a wall as leverage, and pounced on Peter. He easily shook him off, spinning around to slam his back into the wall next to where we were still crouched.

A chunk of the molding snapped off, dust and drywall sprinkling down onto us. Stiles and I instantly scrambled away as fast as possible. He grabbed my hand tightly, our fingers weaving together as he hauled me to my feet. We nearly trampled over the nurse’s body, but stumbled back just in time to step around her.

Peter leaned down and gripped Derek by the throat before pulling him up off the tiled floor. He strode forward, pulling Derek along with him as he made his way down the hall toward us. Stiles and I stumbled backward with each quick step he took. 

My heart was pounding in my throat as I tried to get control over my breathing. Derek’s hands came up to claw at Peter’s arm as his legs kicked wildly, looking for any leverage to escape.  

“My mind, my personality, were literally burned out of me. I was acting on pure instinct.” He suddenly released his hand and Derek slammed to the floor with a pained groan. 

“You want forgiveness?” Derek roared, jumping to his feet and landing a hard punch to Peter’s jaw. 

He easily deflected his next attempt and headbutted Derek harshly. He stumbled back a few steps, and Peter used this to his advantage as he kicked him harshly in the chest. “I want understanding.”

Derek flew several feet in the air before crashing to the floor and sliding all the way down the hall until he lay crumpled at our feet. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and spit out a mouthful of blood. I suddenly realized we were back in the main waiting area, and pulled Stiles by his hand that was still entwined with mine. We kneeled down behind the desk as the two werewolves continued fighting in front of us.

“Do you have any idea what it was like for me during those years? Slowly healing, cell by cell, even more slowly coming back to consciousness.” Peter wandered his way forward slowly, menacingly. “Yes, becoming an alpha, taking that from Laura pushed me over a plateau in the healing process. I can’t help that.”

Derek rose to his feet and swung his arms wildly. It was obvious that Peter’s words had struck a cord in him. He easily blocked each punch before gripping Derek’s wrist tightly and effortlessly snapping the bone. He let out a pained roar and I flinched as the sound echoed through the room. 

“I tried to tell you what was happening. I tried to warn you.” Peter released Derek’s arm before fisting the sides of his leather jacket and throwing him over the desk. 

He smashed through the glass barrier, pointed shards raining down on us as he landed harshly on the floor beside our crouched position. Stiles spazzed out next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders frantically and tucking my head into his chest before leaning his body over mine. My chest swelled at the protective gesture. 

Heavy silence blanketed the room for a long moment. I let out a shaky breath, trying to stay as still as possible. Stiles shifted over me and I peeked around him to see what was going on. Derek started crawling away from us slowly, looking seriously injured.

“We have to do something.” I gasped, heart racing painfully in my chest. 

Stiles looked down at me with wide eyes, like I’d lost my mind. “Yeah. We’re getting the hell out of here.”

Before I could protest, he pulled me to my feet. Neither werewolf even spared us a glance as we bolted out the front doors. I didn’t want to leave Derek in there. It didn’t feel right. I wasn’t sure what I could do to help, but there had to be something. 

Stiles dragged me all the way to his Jeep and wrenched the passenger door open. I just stood there, frozen. 

“Y/N. Get in!” He yelled, his eyes wide with urgency. 

“He’s gonna die in there.” My voice quivered as I looked back toward the hospital.

Stiles tilted his head up to the sky in exasperation before looking at me with narrowed eyes. “He’ll be fine. He’s surprisingly hard to kill.”

He jerked his arm forward, gesturing for me to get in, and I chewed on my bottom lip nervously. I knew there was nothing I could do, but I wanted so badly to help. I stole one last glance at the building and let out a heavy sigh, sliding into the car begrudgingly. Stiles slammed the door closed behind me and ran around the hood before jumping into the driver’s seat. 

A moment later, he sped out of the parking lot. We didn’t say a single word the entire ride home. 

We’d been sitting here, in front of my house, for the last several minutes. Thick tension crackled in the air between us, but we were both too stubborn to be the first one to break. I sat there for a few more seconds, indecision clawing at my insides. I wasn't exactly jumping to talk to him, but part of me didn't want to leave him, either. 

Something about his presence was calming. Even as we sat here in tense silence, I knew it was better than being alone. But we couldn’t stay like this all night. With a dejected sigh, I reached for my seatbelt, but paused when he spoke up unexpectedly.

“You know, I’ve been trying my best to keep you out of this stuff.” His words were sharp as his fingers tightened around the steering wheel until his knuckles went white.

I turned toward him slowly, relaxing back into my seat. “I never asked you to do that.”

“Do you know how many times I’ve almost died in the last couple months?” His jaw clenched as his eyes swept in my direction. Their normal amber color had darkened as several intense emotions swirled inside them. Frustration, anger, worry. “Everyone who’s involved with the supernatural keeps almost dying. We aren’t going to stay this lucky.”

“Then let’s not rely on luck anymore. We can learn to take care of ourselves.” I insisted, leaning toward him slightly. 

I was tired of taking a backseat in all of this. Today, for the first time, I felt like I was truly a part of the team. Even though I had to go through Derek to get here, it was so much better than being kept in the dark. 

“I’m too busy worrying about you to take care of anything else.” His voice was barely above a whisper as his eyes flickered around my face before looking away.

I just stared at him in confusion. “Why would you worry about me?” 

Out of all the people in his life, I should be at the bottom of the list. Hell, I shouldn't even be on the list. 

“You’re joking, right? You keep showing up in places you shouldn’t be. You’re constantly almost getting hurt. You sleepwalk into the woods half the time and—and I’m terrified that one of these days I’m gonna be too late to help.” 

He rushed the words out, his eyes wide and intense. He was giving me this look, like I was the most important person in the world. My heart tugged uncomfortably in my chest and I swallowed. 

“I haven't even done that in—” My words caught in my throat at the way his head tilted incredulously and I sighed. “You don’t always have to be there, Stiles. You don’t always have to look after everyone else.” 

His eyes twitched and his lips rolled into a thin line. “You’re not gonna stay out of this, are you?”

I shook my head slowly. “I know I can help somehow. I can feel it. And if I know that, and don’t...then I don’t think I can call myself one of the good guys.”

Silence fell over the car again, but this time it wasn't awkward or tense. I studied the way the streetlights illuminated his freckled face. Shadows created hard lines around his jaw that contrasted the soft gaze of his eyes as they bored into mine. My stomach fluttered with a foreign emotion and I chewed on my bottom lip as I fidgeted in my seat, suddenly feeling nervous. Something had shifted in the air between us, but I couldn’t quite place it.

“Is it obvious yet how much I like you?” His gaze flickered down to my mouth quickly and my breath hitched at his words. 

“Painfully.” I felt myself leaning closer to him without actually meaning to. Yes, I was still mad at him, but right now that didn’t seem to matter so much. 

He met me halfway, our lips molding together instantly. My eyes slipped shut as one of his hands came up to gently tuck a few strands of hair behind my ear. His slender fingers wrapped around the side of my neck as his head tilted, his lips slanting over mine. My mouth parted against his and our tongues explored each other almost urgently. 

This wasn’t anything like the kisses we’d shared before. It was intense, and rushed, like we couldn’t close the distance between us fast enough. I could practically taste everything he felt for me, all the things he wanted to say but didn’t know how. Without breaking away, I blindly undid my seatbelt and fisted the sides of his jacket to pull him against me. 

One of his arms slid around my waist and my hands flattened against his chest before gliding up to rest on the sides of his head. His buzzed hair poked at my skin as he tugged me forward. I fumbled across the gearshift until I landed in his lap, my knees resting on either side of his hips. 

He hummed against my lips in satisfaction as his fingers tangled themselves in the hair at the back of my head. His other hand pressed me impossibly closer, and I arched up into him. He pulled away unexpectedly, and I felt my eyes flutter open to look at him in question. 

“Can—can I...?” He murmured breathlessly, his gaze flickering between my neck and eyes. I nodded a little too eagerly, but couldn’t find it within myself to feel embarrassed. 

He tilted his head down cautiously and I let out a shuddering sigh as his warm breath fanned my skin. My head fell back, a quiet whimper leaving me as he began peppering delicate kisses down my throat. 

A sudden, low whistle had my eyes popping open again. 

Stiles didn't seem to notice—or maybe he just didn't care—as his lips maintained their slow pace against me. I squinted into the darkness, my gaze almost immediately landing on Scott as he practically hung out of his bedroom window with a teasing grin. 

I pushed against Stiles’ chest with a breathy laugh. He groaned lowly in protest, but didn't put up a fight as he sagged back in his seat. His big eyes shined up at me with confusion and I jerked my head toward the houses. He looked over and scoffed in annoyance as he realized we had an audience, before his head slowly lulled back in my direction. 

“Goodnight, Stiles.” I couldn't control the smile tugging at my lips as I cupped his freckled cheeks and placed a gentle kiss just beside his mouth. 

I popped the door open and jumped down, straightening out my shirt with my palms. Stiles shut the door after me and leaned an elbow out the window before letting his chin rest on his forearm. He just stared at me with a small smile on his face, his eyes shining under the streetlights. My heart fluttered at his awe-struck expression and I forced myself to turn around. 

If I didn’t go now, I might never be able to walk away from him. 

“Night, Scott!” I called up to his room as I unlocked my front door. 

His muffled reply came just before I let the door close behind me. I sagged against it, a big grin slowly taking over my face. Being with Stiles had given me a chance to forget about all the crazy shit that happened today, if only for a few minutes.

I knew our problems were really just beginning. Yeah, we identified Peter as the alpha, but something told me being exposed wouldn’t faze him. He was clearly a deranged psychopath that wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. And what he wanted was a pack. I felt like we had a chance to fight back, though. Despite the challenges that were undoubtedly ahead, I was more confident than ever before. 

It finally felt like I had all the puzzle pieces. 

Episode 8                       Episode 10

#scott and stiles #stiles x reader #teen wolf season one #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #stiles x y/n #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #teen wolf series #allison argent #lydia martin #jackson whittemore #derek hale #stiles x original character #stiles x oc #stiles angst #stiles stilinski angst #teen wolf imagine #stiles smut #stiles stilinski smut #dylan obrien #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien x reader

[shadow-assassin-blix]

Bleeding Sunshine

Javier Pena x Reader

Part 1. 

So... this was a challenge... to write Consensual non-consent... but then this icky thing called feelings got in the way, so now this is 2 parts. 

So theres gonna be: Spanking. Slight jealously. Insecurities. Javi being both rough and soft. You being a brat at times. Feelings getting talked about. Hands tied.

Got the title from this poem that I found forever ago.

It had been a long day of work with the DEA. They had almost caught La Quica and he just barely slipped from their grasps. Your partner and boyfriend, Javier Pena, had left early, leaving you and Steve with the paperwork. Again.

“Did Javi tell you why he decided to cut early and leave us with the paperwork?” Steve asked, filing away his stack.

“Nope. But is it really that odd for him to leave early?” You replied with a shrug, as you stood up, throwing on your jacket.

“I have to stop and pick up dinner for us tonight, tell Connie I said ‘Hi.’ See ya tomorrow,” You said with a wave as you left the office.

You hopped into your car and drove to a local pizza place and picked up 2 large pizzas. Javi tended to devour most of a pizza pie by himself, leaving you with only one slice far too often.

Once the pizza was ready, it was a fairly short distance to the Embassy apartments. While you had your own apartment, you spent a vast majority of your time in Javi’s once the two of you began dating a year ago.

While dating him was amazing most of the time, there were times that you were doubtful and didn’t believe this relationship would last long. For example, you still had to deal with the issue of his informants and while you weren’t necessarily happy with the arrangement, you also knew that it was for the job. You dealt with it, even though you hated it.

You made your way to his apartment and used your spare key to open his door. You stopped in your tracks when you saw him.

“Please. Please, do not tell me you cut out early just to go fuck a hooker?” You asked, slightly annoyed taking in his appearance.

He sat on his loveseat, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, a cigarette hanging between his fingers. The Look as you once called it, when your relationship began.

“No. Don’t get your panties in such a twist,” Javier grumbled, tapping the cigarette ash off into the tray on the side table.

Your eyes narrowed at him slightly, as you walked past him, to set the food on the kitchen table.

You began to grab plates and such when Javier called for your attention and waved you over to him.

You looked at him as you slowly walked back over to him and stood before him.

He patted his lap, enticingly, silently asking you to take a seat.

“Mh. No. I hate this couch. I know what you do on it,” You respond, crinkling your nose in slight disgust.

He sighed loudly and commanded, “Get. On. My. Damn. Lap.”

You raised an eyebrow at that, but did as he wished, wondering where this was heading.

You straddle his hips and gently situate yourself on his lap.

“You remember your safe word?” he whispered to you as he took his last drag of his cigarette, before putting it out.

“…mangos? What are we?” You asked slightly confused as to where this was heading.

He then proceeded to reach up and rip your shirt straight down the middle, buttons flying everywhere.

“Javi! I just bought that!” You exclaimed, smacking his chest with the back of your hand.

“Hm. Don’t care. I’ll buy you a new one,” He offered carelessly as he began to kiss your neck, nipping lightly.

You rolled your eyes at his response, and said, “How? It was limited.”

“Shut up, querida,” He mumbled into your neck as his hands ripped the rest of your blouse off, throwing it somewhere.

“Javi. The pizza’s going to get cold,” You complained as he began to unbutton your pants.

“That’s why they invented the microwave, sweet cheeks. Now. Imma tell you one last time,” He growled as he grabbed your chin to look him in the eyes. “Shut. Up.”

You blinked in response and opened your mouth to say something else, but Javi decided to land a firm slap on your ass.

He raised an eyebrow, daring you to react, as his hand hovered near your backside, threatening to do it again.

You took that challenge, and stood up, turning toward the kitchen and to go eat.

Javier shook his head and grabbed you by the back of your pants, pulling you back.

“Oh? Going to be a brat, eh?”  He said, disapproval lacing his tone. “Hm. Let me see if I can beat that out of you. Undress.”

You crossed your arms and looked away, ignoring him.

He sighed then and scooted forward a bit, looking up at you with annoyance.

He then proceeded to rip off his belt, twisting you around, and tied your hands together.

“Javi!” You exclaimed, wiggling your arms and hands, trying to break free.

He ripped your pants down, gently guiding you to bend over, and he commanded, “Count them out.”

He spanked you harshly and waited.

“One,” You whispered, not wanting to admit that this was turning you on. You always enjoyed it when he was rougher in bed. Made it more exciting; the mind-blowing orgasms were a plus.

“Louder,” He corrected you, slapping your ass again.

“Two,” You said louder, breathing getting heavier as arousal began to flood your mind.

This continued on until you reached 10 finally, and his hands softly soothed over the enflamed skin.

“Now. Are we going to be a good girl? Or are you going to continue being a brat?” He questioned lightly.

You whimpered in response, trying to calm yourself as both pain and pleasure saturated your brain.

“What was that?” He asked turning you back to him.

You took some deep breaths, in an attempt to get yourself under control.

After a moment you jokingly narrow your eyes at him and let out a breathy, “Ow.”

He chuckled, gently bringing you back to his lap. “I didn’t hear you complaining. In fact, I bet if I were to touch your panties they’d be soaked.”

His hands began massaging your thighs as he lightly pressed kisses to your chest. This usually made you want to be brattier or just give into his ministrations. However, for whatever reason, you were suddenly not as into this as you were a moment ago. Especially when you saw out of the corner of your eye, an old cigarette butt that had lipstick stains on it; you didn’t smoke.

You stared down at his short messy curls, biting your lips, thinking.

‘Why is this man with me? I’m such a mess. I mean why else would he still be seeing his favorites from the brothel? He clearly doesn’t want-‘

“I can hear you thinking. What’s up?” He asked pulling away, one of his hands cupping your face.

You opened your mouth to answer but found you didn’t know what to say, so you closed it.

Javier stared at you for a long moment and noticed the small glances to the ashtray you made. His eyes briefly roved over to it and realized what it was you were looking at.

“Does the thought of me being with a hooker bother you that much?” He guessed, his voice low, his movements stopping.

You don’t answer immediately. You chewed on your bottom lip harshly before sighing heavily.

“I understand… that you do it for work… but it also makes me wonder why you even bother to be with me, when you have all of them,” You admitted.

“What if…. What if I told you… that I haven’t slept with any of them… in months? That I’ve just been paying them for their information?” He hesitantly asked.

“Wh- Really? Why?” You stammered in confusion.

“Because I have you,” He answered plainly, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

You looked at him shocked, your mouth dropping open and you fully expected him to say that he was joking. But after a full minute of him just staring at you softly, you knew he wasn’t, which made you smile and look down.  

He tilted your chin back up and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Let’s go eat, yeah?” He offered with a half-smile.

“What happened to the whole ‘that’s what microwaves are for’ thing?” You teased.

“I want your full attention, when I rail you into next week my love. I don’t want there to be any doubts or thoughts that I don’t care about you. Plus, I can hear your stomach growling and it’s quite distracting,” He joked, his hands flying up to protect his face as you grabbed a pillow and whacked him with it.

“You’re such a jerk! I can’t help it! I’m hungry,” You tried to say sternly but kept laughing.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your forehead resting against his. You wanted to tell him you loved him, but the last time you did that he refused to speak to you for a week. So, you were quiet, and pressed small kisses to his lips.

The sweet moment was ruined when your stomach growled. Loudly. You pulled away, closing your eyes, and scrunching your face up in mild embarrassment.

“So. Pizza? And whatever’s on TV?” You proposed trying to move away from this awkward moment.

“Yeah. Bring me a couple of slices, please?” He politely asked with a chuckle, turning the TV on.

You filled both plates up pizza, grabbed beers for the both of you, and some napkins.

Javier moved from the loveseat to the sofa and you handed him his half, before curling into his side.

“Do you really think Veronique killed Paolo or do you think it was Marie?” You asked as your (and Javi’s, though he would never admit it) favorite telenovela came on.

“It was definitely Veronique. It’s always the spouse,” Javier argued back, taking a sip of beer.

“C’mon. They just had the baby! Marie’s always been jealous of Veronique!” You exclaimed in response, taking a large bite.

“I guess we shall find out then, won't we?” Javier shrugged devouring half a slice in seconds.

The two of you spent the next hour eating and watching the episode.

When it ended you looked at Javi smugly, “I told you so.”

He rolled his eyes playfully and cleaned up the mess they made while eating. He returned to the living room and picked you up, taking you to his bed.

You lightly giggled at the action, shaking your head.

When the both of you were in bed, the lights out, he pulled you close to him. He was on his side and you on your back. He gently brushed your hair out of your face, he whispered something to you then.

Three words that you hadn’t expected. Three words that you had accepted were never going to come from him, at least not in the traditional sense. Hell, he said it so quietly, you could almost have believed that you misheard him.

“I love you.”

You whispered it back, as he kissed you firmly on the lips. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and you turned on your side to do the same, and the both of you fell into a deep sleep. Best sleep the both of you ever had in a long while.

#Javier Pena #javier pena x reader #a whiplash of emotions #was full on prepared to write utter filth #then emotions took the wheel away from hormones #and here we are

[rhysismydaddy]

365 Days: Part 3 (Feysand)

Alrighty, then! Here’s the last part of the Feysand mob fic. When I started this fic, it wasn’t really going to be like this, but I need a laugh because the world’s a shithole. 

I’m releasing a couple oneshots because multichapter fics take it out of me, so send asks/requests if you want something specific or a certain troupe

Part 1 | Part 2 | Masterlist 

________________________________________________________________

Day 14, 8:19 AM

~Feyre~

Feyre looked down at the man sleeping next to her and grinned at how peaceful he looked. Why are men so damn attractive when they’re asleep? 

She was hardly ever awake before him, so she took advantage of the situation and studied his face. 

That full, sarcastic mouth was curved into a soft smile, his hair was shooting in all directions from where she’d pulled on it last night, and there was a light dusting of stubble on his jaw. He was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

Not to mention the fact that he was naked. 

She brushed his hair back from his forehead, and he leaned into her touch. 

“Stop staring at me,” he murmured.

Feyre shook her head, and even though his eyes were closed, he smiled. He tried to say Come here but was apparently too tired. “Commere, baby.”

Her chest constricted painfully at how soft, how sweet he was with her. The world was convinced he was Satan in disguise, but they never saw sleepy Satan.

And sleepy Satan melted her fucking heart. 

Scooting down further in the bed, she wrapped herself in his arms, her hands running over the smooth skin of his back. He made a deep humming sound that made her grin. 

Rhysand was warm against her, the smooth muscles of his arms somehow more of a home to her than the house they were in. 

Today was only the thirteenth day of their marriage, but she already felt like he was her home. She felt... too much. She’d never been this torn up about anyone in her life.

And she had no idea if he felt the same way. 

She was confused. They were already married, but besides being cuddly in the morning, didn’t make a whole lot of indication of potential feelings.

Granted, they had a ton of sex, which should be an indicator, but it wasn’t always what Feyre would call “making love.”  

Sometimes it was; sometimes he was sweet and tender and so slow it made her eyes cross. But other times his grip on himself would slip a little and he’d make her beg, then scream, then mumble all kinds of nonsense. 

He made her entire body come alive, took her on dates, made her feel special... but didn’t tell her how he felt. 

And Feyre really, really wanted to know. 

She poked his forehead, then his cheek, laughing when he tried to bite her finger. “Wake up. I want to know something.”

“Something tells me to stay asleep.”

Feyre smacked his forehead, and he laughed, fully awake now. 

He rolled them over, pulling her on top of him, and looked up at her with a smile. “What do you want to know, Feyre darling?”

Part of her begged her not to voice the question, but she gathered her courage and ignored it. “Is this a real marriage to you or is it still just a publicity save?”

His eyes widened slightly, body going a little stiff. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I want to know. And you don’t exactly volunteer information.”

“That’s not true,” he said, trying to change the subject. She shook her head, silently telling him to answer the question. He gripped her shoulders, sliding her off his chest, and sat up. “I don’t see why it matters. We’re married. I’m not miserable.”

His tone was tight, eyes anywhere other than her face.

It took a few moments for his words to sink in, but once they did, it was like they were tattooed on her brain.

Not miserable. 

Not miserable??

Feyre laughed humorlessly and covered herself with the sheet, practically ripping it off the bed. “Okay. Thank you. Have a nice day.”

Then she marched into the bathroom, locked the door behind her, and started the shower. She was so...

She didn’t know what she was.

Confused. Upset. Pissed. 

Embarrassed.

She’d started to rely on this man’s company, started to develop feelings for him, and all he could say is that she doesn’t make him miserable? Is he serious? 

She scrubbed her face, and the pissed part of her feelings started to take over. 

Of course I don’t make him miserable! I sleep with him! Who the hell would have a problem? 

She laughed again, mind spinning with possibilities. Oh, miserable isn’t even a word for what I’m going to do to you.

Day 16, 6:46 PM

~Rhysand~

There was something wrong with his wife.

Not in the traditional sense. Physically, she was perfect. More than perfect. 

But emotionally? There was something wrong. 

For the past few days, Feyre had been driving him fucking crazy. 

She avoided him almost all the time, which was mildly impressive, considering they lived together. 

She still slept in the same bed as him, but she practically hung off the edge trying to not touch him. And she came in well after he was asleep. 

Plus, everything he said seemed to be the wrong thing. He said something nice, she told him to fuck off. He tried to joke, she just sighed. He tried to bait her into a fight, she stared out the window. 

It was driving him insane.

The wonderful, sarcastic woman he’d once known had been eaten alive by a harsh little beast whose sole purpose in life was to irritate him.

And he wanted her back.

After last night, he doubted it would be easy. 

He may or may not have lost his cool. To be fair, it was completely her fault. 

He’d come home after a long day, trying to subtly hide the blood on the cuff of his shirt, and had almost thrown something when his once-lovely wife said casually, “I got asked on a date today.”

“By who?” 

“It doesn’t matter. He’s exceptionally handsome, though.” She’d leveled a look at him. “I think I’ll go.”

To say he’d seen red would have been an understatement. “You go on any sort of date with another man, and I’ll string him up from the fucking rafters.”

She’d just laughed, flipped him off, and taken a swig straight from a bottle of wine, muttering about being miserable. 

Rhysand sighed, leaning on his desk. He was in one of his offices downtown, looking over financial reports, and even though they good reports, he couldn’t focus. 

The only thing he wanted to do right now was track his damned wife down and find out what he’d done to piss her off. 

The last time he remembered having the normal Feyre around was a couple of days ago, when they’d been laying in bed, talking about-

Realization dawns over him, and he leans forward to smack his head against his desk.

I am so fucking stupid. 

She’d asked what the marriage meant to him, and instead of telling her the truth, he’d said... what had he said? I don’t see why it matters. 

Ah, shit.

Then he’d probably made matters a hundred times worse and told her he wasn’t miserable.

He had to fix this. Now.

After slapping himself a couple times, Rhys jogged down to his car and sped home. 

By the time he got home, he had a whole speech planned. A nice apology. A confession. 

But when he pulled into the driveway and tried to go in the front door, the lock wouldn’t budge. His key didn’t even fit in the hole. Which didn’t make sense, considering-

Holy shit.

She changed the locks.

His jaw was so tight he wouldn’t be surprised if a tooth popped free. He’d been locked out of his own house. By his wife.

The sweet little apology he’d rehearsed went straight out the window. 

He got out one of his knifes and went to work on the lock. And deadbolt. 

It took a few minutes, but he eventually jimmied the door open and marched inside, adrenaline coursing through his body. 

He stomped all over the house before spotting her in the backyard, sitting on a chair next to the pool, reading a book. 

And smiling.

Something about the genuine happiness on her face--probably from locking him out--drove him up the fucking wall.

He threw the doors open and said, “Hello, wife.”

“Rhysand,” she sighed, smile dropping off her face. “You’re home. How wonderful.”

“Sorry I’m late. My key didn’t work.” 

She tilted her head, biting her lip. “I changed the locks. Didn’t feel safe. Something about living with a criminal will do that to a woman, I guess.”

“You are the most frustrating woman I’ve ever met,” he said, and she shot out of her chair to start pacing in front of him. 

“Oh?” she yelled back, shoving his shoulder. “That’s so upsetting! Let me have a moment to cry about how miserable you’ve become!”

He gave into anger and growled back, “You know, I didn’t know I married a goddamn psycho-”

He was cut off by her tiny, beautiful hand slamming into his face. He jerked back, more in surprise than hurt, and looked at her head to toe.

Even now, when he was two seconds from strangling her, he couldn’t stop from thinking about how beautiful she was.

She swung again, and he stepped back. Then made a mistake.

He laughed. 

Feyre’s blue eyes looked like frost as she narrowed them, then put her hands on his chest, growled, and shoved him straight in the pool.

Unfortunately for him, he liked this suit and was about to ruin it.

Unfortunately for her, he had quick reflexes and dragged her with him.

As soon as they hit the water, his wife was pushing on his head, seemingly trying to drown him. 

He grabbed her wrists in one hand, waist in another, and threw her halfway across the pool. 

“Stop trying to kill me,” he yelled at Feyre, who was already swimming back towards him with a dangerous look in her eyes. 

She refrained and didn’t try to drown him again, but she splashed water in his face and shouted, “I cannot believe I ever agree to marry you!”

This was not how he imagined this conversation going.

Feyre rolled her eyes and splashed him again. “But it doesn’t matter now, anyway, right?”

“Oh, right. You’ve been acting like an madwoman because I said it didn’t matter what I thought of our marriage.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You have the worst temper I’ve ever seen in my life!”

“I seriously doubt that’s true, considering you almost shot someone for calling me a bitch, you hypocrite!” she shouted back, water dripping off her like rain.

The memory of that night made him snap. Fuck this. He wanted her to know this was her fault, not his. “That was because I love you!”

She paused, mouth hanging open. 

He didn’t think she was breathing. 

“No, you don’t,” she said finally, moving to get out of the pool. He grabbed her shoulders and stopped her. “You literally told me the marriage doesn’t matter, so-”

“I freaked out, okay? You were looking at me all happy and trusting, and I didn’t want to ruin what we had by making it complicated.”

Feyre pinched the bridge of her nose, and he forced his smile down at how much it reminded him of himself. “You didn’t want to complicate our marriage with feelings?”

He nodded, and it suddenly seemed stupid.

She confirmed that thought.

“That is the stupidest, most deranged thing I’ve ever heard in my life!”

Rhysand splashed water at her, not able to help it. “No, the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard is a woman changing the locks on her husband because he pisses her off.” 

“How did you even get in, by the way?”

He smirked. “Baby, like you’re so fond of point out, I’m a criminal. You think I can’t pick a lock?”

That earned him a wave of water in the face. 

He asked, “Why did you get so mad about what I said?”

“Because I love you, too, you idiot. And I was embarrassed that I have feelings about someone who doesn’t care.”

Rhys smiled. “So you’ve been acting crazy because...”

“I was pissed off that I had started to actually like you, and the best thing you could say about being married to me was that you ‘aren’t miserable.’”

She glared at him, and he held his hands up. “That was shitty. Let me amend my statement, Your Honor.”

Her eyes softened just a fraction, and she grinned. “Proceed.”

“The marriage matters to me. A lot. I know it started because of publicity and both of us needing to save our asses, but I don’t want it to end. Ever.” He took a deep breath. “And I love you. So much I’m willing to overlook how bat-shit crazy you are.”

“Okay.”

He raised his eyebrows and gestured to her. If he was sharing, she could bet her pretty ass she was, too.

She sighed. “It matters to me, too. And I love you. So much I’m willing to overlook you being the demented Son of Satan.”

He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him.

“Next time, just tell me what you’re thinking about, okay? I’m not going anywhere.” Feyre pressed her forehead to his. “And I’d hate to have to do something really terrible to you to push you over the edge.”

“I’m curious,” he pulled back to ask, “What was next on the ‘Make Rhysand Miserable’ agenda?”

She smiled and blushed. “I had a few ideas, but I was planning on getting Cassian and Azriel to kidnap you and leave you naked in the middle of the mountains.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Cassian probably already had the spot picked.”

She wrapped her legs around him, both of them smiling like idiots. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

Feyre kissed him. “I love you, too.”

He pressed his lips to her cheek. “Can I have a key to the house, please?”

“Only if you teach me how to pick a lock.”

Rhysand smiled and wondered how the hell he’d gotten so lucky. “Deal.”

________________________________________________________________

This is probably my least favorite fic ever, but it was fun to write. Thanks for reading! 

@rapunzel @bamchickawowow @wesupremeginger @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @hizqueen4life @exciting @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @sleeping-and-books @negativenesta @burritowithfeels @sis-it-dont-add-up @mockingjayusa @aelin-is-my-heart @awesomelena555 @thekeytohappiness-is-you @keshavomit @a-bit-of-a-cactus @aesthetics-11 @b00kworm

#feysand #rhysand #feyre archeron #feysand fanfiction #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acofas #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #acotar fanfiction