#i see a building i go wow i wonder who was here x years ago when this was built

[saythenametotheworld]

Invisible String [1]

Genre: friends to lovers; slow burn; fluff

Pairings: Na Jaemin x Female Reader

Warnings: slow slow burn, lots of denial, fluff

Notes: 19.4k words, song prompt was Invisible String by Taylor Swift

Synopsis: Na Jaemin was an old friend who never became anything else other than that, a friend. But after a series of life decisions that led you to move from your small town to the big city, you slowly find out that maybe, after all these years, Jaemin was never just a friend.

The building stood massively right in front of you, a thirty-story condominium apartment where you somehow managed to snag a good deal in a unit owned by your friend who opted to rent out the place when she moved overseas. It didn't matter to you that you were a renting tenant in this beautiful residential building, you're just glad to have found a home and moved in smoothly.

You made it on time inside before one of the elevators closed. You got in clutching your bag's handle, giddy and excited to get home and get ready for the housewarming party your friends organized. You almost didn't notice that you were inside with another guy because you were too busy being all giggly while chatting with your best friend on your phone. You looked over his appearance, tall and slightly muscular. The height difference made it impossible to get a good look at his face without being noticed so you didn't. You wondered if he was a resident or if he was visiting someone. Not that you were even interested in it, your mind just randomly went toward those thoughts.

It was when you shifted your focus in front of you that you realized you could clearly see your reflection on the elevator door. You moved your head slightly on one side to check your hair only to find the guy's face reflected in the mirror, smiling at you.

He looks like Na Jaemin, you thought and then the realization made you gasp. You turned to him, one hand over your mouth and your eyes wide in recognition. "Na Jaemin?!"

Jaemin laughed at your reaction and lifted one hand for a small wave. "Hello."

"Wow, it really is you," you blurted out, a smile slowly creeping on your lips.

"You seem happy to see me," he teased, wiggling his eyebrows and making you chuckle.

"Are you kidding me? Of course, I am. It's good to see you!" you said, gently nudging your elbow on his arm.

"You too," he beamed. "What brings you here? Judging how surprised you were to see me, I can't possibly be the reason why."

There's the Jaemin you know, playful and acts overconfident for the sake of being funny. He was one of your friends from high school with whom you shared the rest of your teenage life. You kept in touch through the years but you rarely met because of obvious reasons.

"I just moved here. Do you live here too?" you asked and he nodded. "That's amazing."

"I know. It's a small world."

You both laughed and for a moment you couldn't think of anything else to say. You were just baffled by the coincidence.

"How about some drinks later tonight? We can catch up or something. That is if you don't already have plans," he offered and it felt as though a switch was flicked in your brain when you remembered something.

"Ah, that reminds me. You should come to my housewarming. Donghyuck organized it. Didn't he tell you?"

Jaemin appeared to think before fishing his phone from his jeans pocket. "Actually, he did two days ago. I just haven't read it yet."

You rolled your eyes. "You still ignore his texts?"

"Only because he nags all the time. If it's important, he can call me."

You laughed fondly, realizing how little has changed. "So are you coming?"

"Of course. I'd love to. Hyuck would drag me there anyway if I don't go."

"Knowing you live in the same building, I figured he would," you quipped.

Jaemin not only agreed to come to your housewarming, he also offered to help you prepare. Although you said he doesn't have to because your friends would be bringing most of the food, you didn't argue when he insisted. Jaemin had always been the type to extend a helping hand any time, especially to his friends.

It was still early so you did a little cleaning even though there really isn't much to clean. Then you texted your best friend Heejin to let her know Jaemin was coming. She was excited to meet another friend of yours from high school and said they'd be over as soon as possible. Jaemin then arrived and you opened up the door to him holding stacked containers of side dishes.

"Oh, wow. That's a lot," you commented, opening the door wider for him to pass through. "Thank you."

"I haven't prepared an actual housewarming gift so I brought you side dishes instead," he explained as he set the container to the dining table where you led him. "They're new. My mom just brought them yesterday. And you can return the containers after you've finished everything."

"This is enough, Jaemin. You didn't have to bring anything, but thank you anyway. And I love your mom's cooking. I'm sure these will be great."

"I'm glad you like it," he said, leaning his waist against the countertop as he watched you arrange the dishes in your fridge.

"She talks about you all the time when I go there to eat," you added, smiling as you remembered having late-night drinks and barbecue at their restaurant back in your town. "Always telling everyone about her handsome chef of a son."

A fond smile flashed on his lips. "She does that a lot."

You glanced back at him, mirroring his smile. "I know. It's adorable.

There is not much to cook since your friends were bringing food too and there's not much to talk about either because you're not really detached from one another. You and Jaemin were in a close circle of friends so you would meet at least twice or thrice a year to catch up and share significant moments of your lives with each other. Not to mention Thanksgiving when you would all be in your hometown and you would make sure to meet up. As for Jaemin, the last time you saw each other was at your father's funeral five months ago, which was sad now that you were reminded of it.

"Have you been well?" he asked after a while. You had been sitting in your living room after you were done with the preparations, both focusing on your phones to pass the time. "How's home?"

"Well, as much as losing a loved one sucks, we went on with our lives. The first few weeks were difficult but we got by. Eventually, we got back on our feet."

"Good for you," he smiled, setting his phone face-down on his thigh. He stared at you for a while and you couldn't bring yourself to look away. No words were shared between the two of you, just a comforting smile from him and an acknowledging nod from you. And then your doorbell rang, signaling what you assumed was the arrival of your friends. You both made a move for the door, stopping halfway to look at each other.

"I'll do it. It would be weird if you did," you said, sheepish.

He laughed. "Yeah, I realized that."

You made your way to the foyer just in time for the doorbell to ring again. On the door monitor, you could see your friends' faces, waiting for you to open up.

"Welcome to my house," you beamed at them as soon as you opened the door. Hyuck pushed through your cheering girlfriends and raised the champagne bottle he was holding.

"Welcome to the big city!" With a soft pop, the bottle was opened and he shook it with so much force that it squirted champagne everywhere within your space. You and the girls shrieked, running back inside to escape Donghyuck's champagne shower.

You were all giggling as you wiped the alcohol on your skin while Seola found Jaemin looking comfortable sitting on the long sofa.

"Oh, Jaemin! I didn't know you were coming!" She waved a hand at him and received a nod and a smile as a response.

"Well, coincidentally, he actually lives in the same building. Isn't it amazing?" you told Seola, guiding them from the foyer into the living room. The boys soon followed, laughing and pushing each other into the house with Hyuck still carrying the half-empty champagne bottle.

"Hyuck, I'm not gonna clean after your mess, you should know that," you chided as you helped Seola bring the food to the dining table.

"It was for you!" said Hyuck, following you into the kitchen. He stood behind you and ducked to place his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling affectionately. Then he showed you a nice bouquet of flowers. "Here, I got another one."

"Well, thank you, but I still won't clean it so..." You spun to face him and took the bottle and bouquet from his hand. Then you pulled him to the part of the house where you kept your cleaning materials. You opened up the small cabinet and took out a mop. "Get started on it now. We'll eat once you're done."

"Aw man," he complained but he trudged back to the doorway anyway. "So much for being the best best friend in the world!"

You looked around to see which of your friends came. There's Jaemin and Hyuck. Seola was present with her boyfriend, Minho. Heejin came with them too and you wondered if anyone else was coming.

You rounded back to the kitchen and helped set the table. "Is this everyone?"

"Yes. Did you want more?" asked Heejin, tilting her head at you and smiling before swooping in to give you a quick peck on the cheek.

"Not really but I kinda imagined you bringing Jinyoung along," you replied, referring to her boyfriend. Heejin snorted.

"Nah, he's on the night shift." She did a double take. "You know what, I think he's on the 24-hour shift. He never gets a break. Let alone sleep."

"I don't think any first-year resident doctor gets any sleep," you noted.

"Honestly, I have no idea. I just feel really bad for him."

You felt an elbow brush your right arm so you glanced that way and saw Jaemin placing cold cans of beer on the table. Your gazes met and he gave you a quick smile before leaving your side.

Heejin nudged your elbow and whispered in your ear. "Handsome as ever."

You shrugged, glancing at him to make sure he wouldn't hear you. In a low voice, you said, "I know. He was already good-looking back then, now he's even more handsome."

"You mean hot?" Heejin wiggled her eyebrows so you giggled.

"Yeah, I guess he's hot now," you agreed, giggling quietly with your best friend.

"Who's hot?" Hyuck's head popped between yours and Heejin's.

"Not you," Heejin snorted, pushing his face before walking away. You laughed at her antics. Hyuck and Heejin have always had a love-hate relationship. Heejin was your friend in the city before you moved to permanently live in your father's hometown. She would occasionally visit you there and that was how she met your friends. You remembered how Hyuck treated her so well that she fell for him only for her to find out that Hyuck was in fact, just trying to be nice. That's how their Tom and Jerry relationship began.

"It's good that you're here now. And it's even better that Jaemin lives in the same building. That means we can get together more often," Hyuck said as you all started to get seated for dinner. Conversations and laughter filled the table, with Hyuck and Seola bringing most of the humor.

When you moved to your living room for drinks, you found out that they had each brought housewarming gifts to bless you for your new home. The conversations soon turned to random accounts of the past, when you were all teenagers living in the moment and enjoying your youth.

You were reminded of the time when you were all in your small town, a bunch of high school kids trying to survive school. You were the new kid at the time, a fresh face from Seoul. Seoul was not that far from the town, but it was still a small town and everyone at school was interested in the new face, especially Hyuck who befriended you first. Like Heejin, you mistook his warmth for affection, but luckily for you, you weren't really considering any romance in your first year of high school so you let it pass.

Your friendship would go on for the next few years and you celebrated everything with them, birthdays, competitions, festivals, and even something as small as getting through the exam week. Your circle wasn't big, mostly just you, Donghyuck, Jaemin, and Seola. As well as Jeno and Eunbi, both of whom you rarely see now because life has brought you apart.

"Honestly, if it wasn't for Jaemin telling Hyuck to invite you to lunch, you would be hanging out with a completely different set of friends throughout school," Seola said while you were talking about the time you first came to school.

"Jaemin did?" you questioned, genuinely surprised. It was news to you because you had always thought it was Hyuck who was adamant that you became a part of their circle.

"You didn't know that?" Hyuck asked, surprised.

"No," you replied shaking your head. "I had no idea."

"Jaemin is the goat of this friendship," Hyuck told Heejin, then turned to you. "Remember when you won the silver medal during the swimming competition in the third year and we brought you flowers that made you ugly cry?"

You exhaled, rolling your eyes when the embarrassing memory flashed in your mind.

"Jaemin bought those flowers," Seola confirmed. You glanced up at Jaemin, who was sitting right behind you on the couch while you were on the floor. He just flattened his lips together, embarrassed to admit or deny the fact.

"That's actually very sweet," Heejin sang, tilting her head to the side for effect.

"Jaemin took care of her so well that we had a secret bet in 11th grade on whether they'd start dating or not," Seola confessed and that was the one fact that made you gasp audibly.

"You did? Why am I only now hearing about this?"

Seola smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, it was kind of the point of the whole bet being a secret, sweetheart."

You glanced at Jaemin again to inquire if he knew about the bet. Jaemin shrugged and shook his head.

Heejin turned to Seola and asked, "Who won that bet?"

"Hyuck and Jeno," Seola replied, grinning at Heejin. "But technically they both cheated because we had no idea Jeno was making a move on her and Donghyuck knew about it."

"To be fair, even Jaemin knew Jeno was into her," Hyuck defended. "It's you girls' fault for thinking Jaemin had a thing for her."

"You still cheated and haven't paid us back."

You suddenly remembered Jeno, the only guy you dated in high school. It was a pretty long relationship that lasted from the beginning to the end of your senior year. But like most first loves, that one never came back. Not that you wished for it to come back, anyway. To you, being a teenager and falling in love was both an embarrassing and beautiful thing to reminisce about.

You hadn't planned on getting anyone drunk at this party, but it just happened after Donghyuck took out his secret stash of alcohol that he kept hidden from you and you couldn't do anything about it. After all, what kind of housewarming party would this be if they all went home sober? By midnight, you were tipsy and dizzy, leaning your back on the sofa while Jaemin's arm was stretched on the backrest. You were almost oblivious of the proximity because Hyuck was flush on your other side, drunkenly singing a super sad rendition of Day6's Beautiful. Heejin was passed out on the other sofa while Seola and her boyfriend were nowhere to be found.

"Gosh, I hope they're not doing it in my bedroom," you joked after you pointed out their absence by asking if they left without saying goodbye.

"Actually, they went that way." Jaemin pointed in the direction of your bathroom.

"Oh, that's so much worse. I hope they clean up after themselves."

You laughed about it for a bit, only to be silenced by Hyuck's out-of-tune, sharp-pitched, high note. Your eyes met Jaemin's and you stared at each other for a while before you both burst out laughing.

"How is he so out-of-tune when he can sing really well?" you asked, nudging Hyuck so he'd stop getting sandwiched between the two men.

"Yeah, he is a good singer. Remember when we went to a karaoke room after the swimming competition?"

"I do. There was a singing contest and he registered at the last minute. Wasn't it you who signed his parental consent form?"

Jaemin nodded with a grin. "And he won."

"He did. Talented bastard." You paused, looking at Hyuck who is now mumbling inaudibly while resting his head on the armrest of the sofa. "Ah, about that. Is it true you bought the flowers that day?"

Jaemin shrugged. "It's common practice to give someone flowers to congratulate them on something."

"Was it also your idea to give me flowers when I ranked third in the exams?" you asked and Jaemin nodded, reaching forward to grab a snack from the coffee table. "How about those other times?"

He chewed on some chips before answering. "Most times. But the guys picked up on it after some time. Until it became a habit."

You remembered how the boys would give each of you a flower for birthdays, contests, and graduation. You remembered how Seola broke down crying when her parents weren't present during her cello recital but the boys in your circle each had one bouquet of flowers for her so she felt a bit better. You went to a karaoke room after that and sang your hearts out until you were told to leave before 10pm because you were all minors.

"It's cute how you influenced the boys to do something nice," you chimed, glancing at the vase where you placed the flowers Donghyuck brought tonight.

"I didn't really intend to, but I'll take the credit," he grinned. At that moment, the bathroom door opened and a giggling couple came out looking equally breathless and euphoric.

"You guys look cozy," Seola said as she lunged into you, making Jaemin move aside. You grimaced at her, pushing Seola's face away from you when she tried to hug you. Her boyfriend, Minho gave you a sheepish smile. He had always been shy and you felt bad that he matched with a force like Seola. At the same time, you were happy for him because Seola is the most loyal person you know.

Seola pulled away from you just far enough to kneel on the carpeted floor. Her eyes were focusing on your clothes then on Jaemin's. "Hey, you're coupling again."

"What?" you asked, looking down on your clothes. When you glanced at Jaemin, you realized that your cream sweater matched his cream pants while his grey t-shirt was the same shade as your grey sweatpants.

Seola let out a pitchy laugh. "You guys look cute."

"Okay, alright, time to go," Minho chided softly, gently taking Seola by the arm to help her up. To you, he said, "I should take her home. She has work tomorrow."

You gasped, standing up at once to help Minho. "Why didn't she say that? Gosh, she shouldn't have drunk too much."

"I know," he chuckled as you handed him Seola's purse. "Thanks."

You walked them to the door and told them to take care before they left. When you went back to the living room, Donghyuck was lying on the couch, his head comfortably resting on Jaemin's lap.

"I'll take him back to my apartment. You should rest now," said Jaemin to which you responded with a nod.

As you helped Jaemin drag Hyuck out of your house, you gave the mumbling drunk man a peck on his cheek before bidding them goodbye. Cleaning followed after closing the door but it hadn't been five minutes yet since Jaemin left when he came back.

"Need help cleaning up?" He asked but didn't even let you reply when he pushed through the door and went straight to the living room to clear the table. He made himself comfortable too quickly that you didn't even have the chance to say you could do it all by yourself, so you decided to just leave him to it.

Heejin woke up when you shook her, helping her up into your bedroom and telling her to change first before going to sleep. When you went back out, Jaemin had just finished putting out the last dishes from the coffee table and was about to start washing them but you stopped him.

"I'll finish up here. You should get some rest too."

"Are you sure?" he asked but he was already taking off the gloves, covering a yawn with one hand. You nodded. "Alright, I'll take out the trash then."

"Thanks," you smiled as he grabbed the trash bag. He walked up to you and mumbled his thanks too.

"Thanks for having me. And you're welcome."

"No. I mean, really, thank you for helping me out. I'm pretty drowsy myself so, you're a lifesaver."

He just stood there, smiling as he examined your face. Then he touched your cheek with the back of his hand. "You're welcome. Good night."

The next morning, you woke up later than expected and found the space next to you empty. A text from Heejin told you that she had to leave early for work so you scolded her for getting drunk on a weekday. As for you, you just got accepted into your new work and will begin tomorrow but you need to drop by the office today to set up your desk. So after a quick bath, you took your car to the office, making sure to pass by the coffee shop right in front of the building to pick up some coffee for your colleagues in the PR team of the Marketing Department. Your team leader has briefed you about your team so you know how many cups to buy. Much to your surprise, you found Jaemin at the counter, taking your order. He smiled upon seeing the surprise on your face.

"Did you have a good sleep?" he asked jovially.

"I did, thanks for asking. How about you? You seem energetic and fresh, it makes me jealous," you grumbled.

"Nothing a cup of coffee can't fix," he replied, repeating your order to you before he passed it on to the barista.

You were looking around when Jaemin got back to you. Amazement is evident in your eyes as you take in the interior of the whole cafe. Jaemin couldn't help but smile.

"What do you think?" he asked, prompting your attention.

"I think it looks amazing. Is this yours?" you questioned with a proud smile.

Jaemin shrugged but he nodded his head. You uttered a 'wow' that made Jaemin smile even wider.

"That's why the name was familiar," you noted, remembering that Jaemin's parents had set up the same cafe in your town less than a year ago. "It suits you."

"Because I love coffee?" he asked, stepping out of the counter to join you.

"Yeah. You're crazy for it," you laughed mockingly. "I think addicted may be the right term."

Jaemin raised two hands. "Arrest me, officer." You laughed at his lame retort and he did too. "What brought you to the area?"

"Here?"

"Not me, I assume. You're surprised to see me again."

You laughed because it was true. "No, not you. Actually, I'll start working there tomorrow." You pointed at the building across the street.

"The Marketing Firm?" he asked and you nodded. "That's great. Some employees there are regulars."

"I would assume so."

"Congratulations," he chimed before going back to the counter. You watched him move around while you waited for your order. After less than two minutes, he brings out the cups of coffee you ordered and a slice of cheesecake. "It's on the house. For good luck."

"No, no. I can't just take this for free," you insisted, taking out your card to pay for the cheesecake. But Jaemin crossed his arms over his chest to refuse. Seeing he would never take it, you stuffed it back into your wallet. "Thank you. I guess I could use some good luck."

"Just come find me here. I'll give you more of it."

You felt happy hearing that. For some reason, your worries about moving here slowly dissipated. "Thanks. See you soon."

At the office, your desk had a few balloons on it and the team welcomed you with applause. You had a little time to get acquainted with them before they resumed their work and you started setting up. After about an hour, you bade them goodbye and your team leader even walked you out.

Early the next morning, you headed out for work. Since you arrived a bit early, you decided to drop by the cafe to get coffee and hopefully say 'Hi' to Jaemin. He wasn't there though, but you didn't think about it too much and just got yourself a nice cup of iced latte.

Work was work. It wasn't very tiring, but you had quite a lot of tasks on your first day. At your previous job, you would have complained about the workload, but since this was your first day, you were pretty energetic. PR management was quite difficult and your role is mainly on social media management. As a newbie, you were assigned with only one client first, a food brand. But other than handling their social media, you also had to prepare presentations on your online promotion approaches and techniques to be presented to the meeting by the afternoon of that day.

At lunch, you got ready to leave with your colleagues, Yunseo and Jaehee, but a delivery arrived for you and it was a packed lunch from Jaemin's cafe.

"It's from the boss, ma'am," said the delivery guy who was a service crew from the cafe.

"Thank you. I appreciate it," you replied before bidding him goodbye and going to your cubicle.

Yunseo called your name as she headed to your desk. "Are you still coming?"

"No, actually, I think I'll have my lunch here," you replied, looking up at her when she was by your desk.

"Oh, Nana's Cafe? That's where we're going for lunch," she said. "It's right across the street."

It came with a note saying he heard you were looking for him that morning and enclosed his number for you to contact.

"Is that a note?" Yunseo asked but you were quick to put it away and give her an awkward grin. Yunseo gave you a teasing look.

"Just come with us, eonnie," said Jaehee. "It would be lonely here by yourself."

There was no reason for you to decline and it was true it would be lonely to eat alone. Besides the fact that you want to get to know your co-workers better, you also don't want to seem like a loner. With the packed lunch in your hands, you joined them at the cafe for lunch where the four of you found a comfortable spot to sit in.

"The food is great here," Jaehee commented just as you all settled down after ordering.

"Yes, and the owner is handsome," Yunseo added, giggling as she brushed shoulders with you. "He's quite popular online too."

"You know what, I tried to get him to work with XO Foods but he declined. I guess he knows he's popular enough and won't need the exposure," Jaehee shared while you just nodded.

"How popular is he?" you asked, taking an interest in the subject.

Yunseo pulled up the cafe's IG and sure enough, they were tagged in plenty of posts, with most of these posts featuring Jaemin himself. Sure you've seen the tags and insights about the cafe, but you had no idea the popularity was mainly due to Jaemin's visuals.

"It helps that he had several branches in the city and systematically works in one branch every day," Jaehee added. "On Wednesdays, he's here."

"Yeah, doesn't he have like, six branches all over Seoul?" Yunseo asked and Jaehee nodded in response.

"How do you know so much?" asked Woojin, your male colleague.

"Because I tried to get him on with XO Foods! I did a bit of research about him."

Yeonsu expressed that she had a crush on Jaemin and dropped by regularly every Wednesday to spot him. You found out that this place was dubbed Wednesday Branch because Jaemin is here on Wednesdays. He had six branches in Seoul and scheduled days for each branch. Yeonsu said he would probably be at the Apgujeong branch today. Woojin, on the other hand, joked that Jaehee and Yeonsu are simps for the owner and he's just here because the food is top tier.

"He's a dreamboat, any girl would simp over him," Yunseo said dreamily. You looked down at the lunch that was delivered to you a while ago and hoped they wouldn't start asking where you got it from.

You realized just how much you didn't know about Jaemin. You knew he became a chef and had a restaurant, but not to this extent. And you cannot say it was because you weren't interested, rather it was because he speaks less about himself in a humble, reserved kind of manner. You realized you should have believed Hyuck when he went on about how Jaemin is the richest among your friend circles today. He was right, it seems. And as you all ate, you also realized that the food really was great.

Jaemin wasn't much of a cook as far as you remember, but he always cooked when you were hanging out at Jeno's place. It was his mom who made phenomenal food. His mother owned a small restaurant in your town that you frequented. You hung out there to eat after exams or games, and stuff. You even remember that you had your very first alcohol there when his father slipped soju disguised as a water bottle on your table when you all turned 19. You got caught of course, but since you've finished up the entire bottle, Jaemin's mom can only scold you.

The week passed quickly and you have fully adjusted to your new work and your new home. On your way to work, you passed by the cafe. It has become a habit since you didn't own a coffee maker and needed coffee in the morning. You would have gotten yourself one, but you sucked at making coffee. An instant capsule is what you can do at best, but your taste buds just don't like it. A female employee was on the counter when you went to order and she gave you a buzzer. You found a seat and waited there as you realized the considerable amount of people in the cafe. It was more packed than usual, mostly with girls. Then you realized today was Wednesday and Jaemin would be here.

Come to think of it, you haven't bumped into him all week, which you thought was weird considering you live in the same building and floor. Maybe your schedules don't match so you didn't think much about it. Later, there were quiet gasps from the customers, followed by murmurs. When you followed their line of sight, you saw Jaemin carrying a tray with a smile. You realized he was looking at you and felt conscious of the murmurs.

He placed the takeout cup in front of you along with a fold of tissue papers and your receipt.

"Here you are." His smile was beautiful today, well to be fair, you had always thought his smile was radiant. "How did you like the food?"

"Sorry?" you asked, puzzled for a second. "Oh, from last week. Yeah, it was great. Top tier, even. Thank you so much for that by the way. And I actually had most of my lunches here."

You felt a little bad for forgetting to thank him. He even gave you his number but it totally slipped your mind.

"I'm glad you liked it. Come back more often, maybe you'll catch me here and I'll give you a discount."

"Like, on Wednesdays?"

Jaemin gave you a teasing look. "You know my schedules?"

"My coworkers do."

"I see, well I'm here on Wednesdays. I'll be expecting you."

Your phone buzzed and you checked it to see a message from Jaehee. You hurriedly grabbed the coffee and found a complimentary cookie with it so you thanked Jaemin.

"You're welcome. Enjoy your coffee," he said as you handed him the buzzer. "Will I be seeing you for lunch?"

"Sorry?" you questioned. He asked that right when you were at the door, making everyone hear him. For a moment, you thought he was inviting you to have lunch with him.

"With your coworkers."

Your eyes widened in realization and shame. "Oh. With them, of course. I think so. They would hate to miss you today."

"Alright then. See you later."

But you didn't see him again that day, and for the rest of the week. A lunch meeting had been scheduled for your team to meet up with a certain client so you all skipped Nana's Cafe.

Days seemed to pass quickly in the city. You woke up one weekend to find your mother at your doorstep with shopping bags in her arms. You let her in and she went on and on about how it's late in the morning and you're just climbing out of bed.

"Mom, I'm not late. You're just early," you reasoned, sitting next to her on the sofa and leaning on her shoulder to get more sleep.

She shook her body to get you off of her. "Go get a bath first!"

"Later," you grumbled, locking her in your embrace. She eventually stopped squirming and just let you hug her. She even had you lay your head on her lap. "How are you these days?"

"Fine. I've done nothing but work, but it's not that hard," you confessed, closing your eyes as she caressed your head.

"How about food? Are you eating well?"

"If you're so worried, you should have brought me food instead of clothes," you complained, although you both knew you meant it as a joke.

Your mother looked at the shopping bags. "What's the point of raising you when you can't even say 'thank you'?"

You just laughed, the familiar warmth creeping in your heart upon hearing your mother's familiar nagging. While most moms can bring homemade food and side dishes for their children, your mom brings you clothes and accessories. She grew up in a wealthy family and was pampered for most of her life so she never really worried about cooking. Even after she married your father, you still lived in comfort and your father is a great cook. You had come to accept that about her because, like your mother, you are also an awful cook. It was safe to say you were both spoiled rotten by your late dad.

"Jaemin's mom said you two live in the same building," she asked. "Do you see him a lot?"

"Not really. But I always eat at his cafe."

Your mother chuckled. "How nice is that? Back home, we get most of our food from their restaurant. Here in the city, you eat at their son's cafe. We rely on their family's cooking too much, don't we?"

You sat up and looked at her with a smile. "If you put it like that, it does sound funny."

She flicked your forehead, making you scream in pain. "Be grateful. Neither you nor I can cook! You should have learned a thing or two from your father if you wanted to survive by yourself."

"Mom, there are restaurants for a reason!" you clapped back and she couldn't even respond because your doorbell rang.

You glanced at it and groaned. "Why are you people barging in so early?"

As you stood up, your mom angrily scolded you for calling her 'you people'. But your loud gasp quieted her. She followed right behind you asking what happened. "Who's there? Why are you so surprised?"

Jaemin's face is clearly registered on your door monitor. Your mother beamed happily. "Oh, it's Na Jaemin. Open up."

"You open up. I'm gonna go brush my teeth," you declared, bolting towards the bathroom to freshen up.

You also changed into more decent clothes, remembering to wear a bra. After a while, you came out to find your mom and Jaemin in the kitchen, arranging containers in your fridge.

"What's going on here?" you prompted, making your way to them and grabbing an apple from the fruit basket on your table.

"Good morning," Jaemin greeted passively, eyes focused on his task.

"Jaemin brought side dishes," your mom said happily and you glanced at Jaemin who smiled at you.

"Again? Thank you so much. That's so nice of you," you chimed, helping them by taking out the old ones he first gave you about a month ago. Most of them were already empty.

"Mom came over yesterday. She brought more this time because I told her I shared them with you," Jaemin told you. Then he turned to your mom. "She just left this morning, actually. It's a shame you missed her, Auntie."

"It is. We could have gone to a spa together or something. You know, to thank her for including my lazy daughter."

"Mom!" you chided while you got ready to wash the old containers.

But your mother ignored that. "Ah, how about we set a schedule for it? We could come to Seoul together and bond."

"She would love that," Jaemin affirmed and your mother seemed happy to hear that.

"It's the least I could do. Your mother helped me a lot. And I'm thankful for you helping my daughter out here. We owe so much to your family."

You let them chat away while you wash the dirty containers. After that, you wiped them clean and packed them so Jaemin could bring them back to his house. While you were at it, Jaemin and your mother moved to the living room so you decided to slice up some fruit for them.

"So I heard. I'd go over next time I'm here," your mom told Jaemin. They were talking about Jaemin's restaurants when you joined them.

"You can go over today, Mom. Why wait till next time?"

Your mom turned to you. "I won't be here for long. I have plans with your grandfather today and then I'll go back home."

You just nodded, taking a fork to get a slice of peach. Your mom did the same

"That's a shame. But I also have plans today, so I'm afraid I wouldn't have been able to entertain you anyway," said Jaemin, standing up from his seat. "I actually have to go now. I just came to drop the sides."

"You're leaving already? I sliced fruits!" you told him but he just chuckled.

"I brought those fruits. I can have them at home."

"Ah, right," you giggled. "Thank you, by the way. And thank your mom for me. I really appreciate it."

"I will. It was nice seeing you again, Auntie. Come visit me anytime."

"I will. Thank you, Jaemin."

You both walked him to the door, uttering more thanks until he disappeared. After that, you went with your mother to meet your grandparents. It was a hearty lunch with them who fondly showered you with compliments and kept telling you to go see them when you're free. You realized yet again that it has been a month since you moved here but you haven't really gone out to meet anyone. You made a mental note to go see them next weekend.

Heejin called you while you were on your way home. You had just parted with your mother after lunch with your grandparents and you had actually ignored Heejin's messages during that.

"I just got home, what is it?" you asked.

"This is crazy news! Crazy!" she said, sounding ballistic. You thought she'd deliver some gossip or exclusives like she always does. However, during those other times, she didn't act this excited. Heejin is a journalist in a big paper and she writes mostly about celebrities.

You stood in front of the underground elevator and it had just closed when you pushed it again, hoping it would open just before it ascended.

"Spill it."

"Jeno just got engaged."

At that moment, the elevator door opened and you saw Jaemin and Jeno staring right back at you. You were surprised to see them, but Jeno was more surprised to see you. He might have tried to hide behind thick sunglasses and a bucket hat, but you recognized him anyway. You hung up on Heejin and awkwardly entered the elevator with the two guys behind you.

You heard Jeno call your name so you glanced back at him and smiled. "How long has it been?"

"I'm not so sure. But it's been a while," you replied, eyeing Jaemin curiously.

"It's good to see you again," Jeno added, smiling underneath his sunglasses. You can almost see the way his eyes were smiling at you too.

"You too, Jen," you replied, genuinely pleased.

You remembered the time you started going out with the ace student, Lee Jeno. How you were both in the same friend circle and you had a crush on him the moment you met him. He was nice to you but didn't express interest until late into junior year. You dated for a while, innocently navigating young love. He was wealthy and had a good background. When his father got married, you all attended the ceremony to comfort him because he disliked the whole thing. But right before graduation, you remembered breaking up with Jeno after he said they were moving permanently to Seoul where his stepmom was working as an actress. You would have been fine with LDR, but he wasn't, especially after he said he auditioned to be an idol trainee and got accepted. You remembered crying, like the dumb teen that you are. And it was in the restaurant of Jaemin's family, surrounded by your friends that you were comforted by spicy tteokbokki.

You had long made peace with your break up. It was long ago and you were both young then. Heck, you have even dated three other guys since then. You were happy for him and he seemed happy too. He didn't become an idol, but he made a name for himself as an actor. The last thing you remember reading about him was that he had quit acting and was teaching at an art school. Now, it seems he will soon get married.

"Would you like to join us for drinks? We're celebrating my engagement. Donghyuck will be there too," Jeno invited just as you all got off the same floor.

"Thanks but I have work tomorrow. Congratulations, though."

"Alright. It was nice to see you again."

They headed in the direction of Jaemin's unit and before leaving, Jaemin turned to you to say, "Goodnight."

"Have fun," you replied before punching in your passcode.

Heejin called you after the articles were posted and gushed about how you dated an actual celebrity.

"Well, he wasn't a celebrity then and we were literal teenagers," you blurted.

"Did you kiss at all?"

Your brows knitted, glancing at her face on the video call. "Yes. But that's as far as we went. Don't get weird ideas."

Heejin laughed. "Wouldn't it be nice if it was you?"

You rolled your eyes, pausing on the typing you were doing on your laptop. "Are you interviewing Jeno's ex-girlfriends for an article? Why are you asking ridiculous questions?"

"No, I'm not. I'm just curious."

You thought about her question and then shuddered. "No. Can't even imagine myself there. We were just kids when we dated, Heejin. And I pretty much never thought about marriage at that time. Good for him that he's settling down though."

"What about Hanbin? You talked about marrying him two years ago."

"Yes and we broke up right after that because he wasn't ready but he got married a month later."

"Geez, why is everyone getting married?" Heejin grimaced and shuddered.

"Just so you know, we're at the age where our friends are all getting married.

"Not me. I won't." Heejin laughed maniacally.

You were working late at night on some edits in your publication materials when you suddenly felt hungry and decided to go to the convenience store. There was one attached to the building, so you didn't have to go too far, but you were disappointed to see that there was barely any food left and the convenience store guy said the new stocks would come in tomorrow. You should have gone grocery shopping that weekend, so stupid.

When you went to pay for some chips, you saw the man in front of you putting two packs of ramen on the counter. Those were the last ones and you thought about buying them from the hooded man.

"Excuse me, do you really need two packs of ramen? That's pretty heavy. How about letting me buy the other one instead?" you asked and then realized it wasn't the right approach. When the man turned to you, you saw that it was Jaemin. "Oh, it's you."

Jaemin grinned. "Wanna eat ramen with me?"

"Yes!" you replied without missing a beat and the cashier girl made a loud gasp. Only then did you realize the situation and the reason for her reaction. "No. I mean... like actual ramen. Not whatever type of ramen. Hey!"

The girl was startled when you hollered at her. From the looks of her, she seemed a lot younger than you are, probably a part-timing student. "Yes, ma'am?"

"How old are you? Why are you thinking weird thoughts?" you scolded despite feeling embarrassed to the point of blushing.

"I didn't say anything, ma'am."

Jaemin grabbed the chips from your hand and slid them to the counter. "Ignore her. She's just shy. We'll pay for these."

You hit Jaemin's arm when you recognized the teasing in his tone. He just laughed and turned to the cashier. After paying, you ran out of the store first while Jaemin followed.

"Should we walk some more? There's a convenience store two blocks from here," he offered as you walked back to the building entrance.

"I thought you were gonna give me the other one?"

Jaemin glanced at you. "I would have, but one pack is not enough for me and Donghyuck."

"Hyuck again? He should just live with you at this point," you quipped. Donghyuck always went to hang out at Jaemin's place and often he would invite you guys in the group chat but most of you are busy.

"I thought you have work tomorrow?"

You nodded. "I'm making last-minute edits. Then I got hungry."

"How about joining us? There's fried chicken and this ramen too."

You sighed as you two stopped in front of the elevators. "I'd love to, but I can't hang out tonight."

"You don't have to. You can just eat and then leave right after. It'll take you only five or ten minutes max."

"Okay. Thanks," you replied. You were hungry anyway and you could use a break from staring at your computer.

You thought Jeno would still be there, but Jaemin said he had left an hour ago. Hyuck was playing video games while Jaemin worked on the food. There was beer next to Hyuck and he was screaming at the TV screen so you opted not to join him even though the sofa seemed inviting. You noted how Jaemin's home was clean and cozy, especially his kitchen.

He worked fast, all the while chatting you up on your day and teasing you about how your ex was about to get married.

"It's fine as long as I get an invite for being his first girlfriend ever," you joked, chopping up some spring onions that he surprisingly trusted you to help with.

Jaemin laughed. "That's funny because I actually need a plus one. You should come with me. We can laugh at their high society guests and meet celebrities."

"Laugh at their high society guests? I'm pretty sure my mom would be there too."

"Ah, right. She's friends with Jeno's Dad." Jaemin pointed the spoon at you. "And you're from high society."

You snorted and shook your head, taking the spoon from his hand. "Never lived that way. Not even once."

You tasted the broth and complimented its rich flavor. Jaemin laughed at you, "The flavor came with the pack."

"You're right. It wasn't from your talent," you quipped and you both laughed.

"Are you two dating? You seem in love and happy," said Donghyuck who popped out of nowhere.

"Shut it," you threatened, holding out the spoon as a weapon.

You and Hyuck basically inhaled the food as soon as it was served. It didn't wait long and Jaemin wasn't only a good cook, but a great chef. He had eggs with it and some leafy greens as well as delicious side dishes from his mom.

"This kimchi is great," Hyuck commented and you nodded in approval.

"If I went home with just the chips, I would have eaten the side dishes in my fridge," you said, taking more noodles from the pot.

"Is the restaurant still there?" Hyuck asked, referring to the restaurant owned by Jaemin's family.

"Yeah. The cafe was right next to it but their restaurant is more popular," you replied. "I still frequented the place when I was there. And I also got updates about Jaemin from his mom. She talks about him all the time."

"Were you so interested in Jaemin that his mom had no choice but to talk about him so much?" Hyuck snickered.

You slurped on the noodles and glared at Hyuck. "I'm not!" you insisted but somehow it came out a little too defensively even if you didn't mean to.

"She talks about you a lot too," Jaemin said to you. "When I go home, or when she comes over, she talks about you and what you're up to."

"Right, didn't she tell you about her and Hanbin going out?" Donghyuck laughed and Jaemin nodded, grinning playfully.

"She did. She also said Hanbin dumped you and got married one month later."

You rolled your eyes at them, taking their teasing in stride.

"It was a good riddance. Hanbin is a jerk," Hyuck spat.

"I agree," said Jaemin. "Remember when we graduated high school and he punched a classmate for taking a picture with her girlfriend at the time?"

Donghyuck scoffed. "Yeah, total garbage."

"How did you end up dating him, anyway?" Jaemin asked, his forehead creasing with how much his brows were knotting.

"To be fair, he stopped being a jerk. He wasn't a jerk even after we broke up. We talked about marriage and we agreed but he wanted to stay there. I don't. God knows I would never be content to stay in that town my whole life," you explained.

"Good for you. Our town was lovely, but you can't make a life of your own if you don't get out of there," Hyuck said and you were surprised that he was taking the conversation seriously.

It was ironic that you were the last to leave, considering you were the one who wasn't originally from that town in the first place. But you're happy now that you're out of there. It was a lovely town like Donghyuck said, but it hinders your endeavors. You know you are made for more than just a small-town marketing assistant. Heck, you even went to a big school just to make sure you find opportunities outside town. You ended back there and stayed for two years before you're finally out.

You remembered college graduation and realized even on that, you were with the same friends to celebrate. You came home after graduation and the town had a big party to congratulate you and the others who finished their studies. Jaemin was the one who handed you flowers at the time. And then you got drunk with your friends, singing your hearts out in a karaoke room like you always did when you were teens. You missed every second of it and loved looking back on it.

A few days later, you attended a meeting for the XO Foods' anniversary events. The main task was to hold a cooking competition and the winner will be an endorser for the brand. There was a long list of potential contestants and you weren't surprised to find Jaemin in that list. They picked the most popular, good-looking, and young candidates for the mini-show. Its main purpose was to promote after all so picking people with good visuals was vital.

After the meeting, you took it upon yourself to visit Jaemin's cafe to find him and talk to him about the competition. There was prize money and the feature can help his brand and help the company as well. It was a Friday, so naturally, he won't be at the cafe. Then you remembered you had his number so you texted him instead. But instead of replying, he just called you.

"I know you didn't wanna do it. My coworker has tried before, and you declined. But I just wanna know, maybe, if you changed your mind about working with XO Foods for a project?"

"XO Foods?"

"Yeah. They're the client I'm assigned to."

"Alright, sure," he replied without missing a beat.

That was quick and you haven't even explained the whole thing yet, so you did just that before accepting his answer.

"Yeah, I'll do it," he replied after your explanation. "I could use the exposure and the pay seemed decent."

You squealed. "Thank you! Oh, gosh. I thought it would be difficult to convince you."

Jaemin just chuckled heartily. "Anything for you really."

You gawked at nothing, confused by what he said but you kept quiet.

Jaemin added, "Just let me know when you'll need me for it."

"Yeah, I will."

"Alright, y/n" he smiled, followed by a proper enunciation of your name that seemed to roll perfectly on his tongue.

You weren't prepared for the random texts that you would get from him ever since he got your phone number. At first, it came the next morning, a picture of freshly made bread pulled out from the oven. It had a note that said, "Come try a piece before you get to work!" Then the next day at lunchtime, he asked if you had already eaten and whether you'd like to try the newest addition to their menu. The texts were mostly that and it almost felt like you subscribed to a food delivery service that sends notifications about food. You didn't think much of it but replied politely anyway. Sometimes you said the food looks good, sometimes you said you'd get a bite before work, other times you can only decline due to work. But it was fun so you just went with it.

The meeting with three competing chefs came and you felt proud of your team for a job well done. Everyone is engaging in your online campaigns and you managed to snag three competitive, handsome, and pretty, popular influencer chefs. It went smoothly and surely it did not slip your coworkers' notice when Jaemin approached you after for a quick chat. Nothing much was talked about between you. He just asked if you had lunch already and left after you said you did.

Jaehee and Yunseo started teasing you and asked how you two were so close.

"We're friends, that's all," you said concisely. It was the truth and there really isn't anything else to add.

"Why didn't you tell us? We've been to his cafe a lot of times! We even met him!" Yunseo asked, playfully hitting your arm several times.

"Well, it felt a bit obnoxious to say I know a popular person," you confessed which was true too.

"Is that why he always comes out to greet us?" Jaehee asked, bewildered. "And you got him to join the competition too!"

"Eonnie, if you guys aren't a thing, maybe you can introduce me," Yunseo suggested, batting her eyelashes at you and making you chuckle.

"We're not a thing and I'll introduce you for sure but how he reacts to it will be up to him," you told Yunseo who just squealed happily and said she'll be fine as long as Jaemin knew her name. "You're a cutie."

"Am I?" Yunseo asked cutely. "I hope Jaemin thinks so too."

Jaemin knocked on your door early that weekend and you opened up to see a box of pastry from him.

"What's this?"

"Oh, it's the cookie samplers I promised you last time," he said, referring to one of his texts.

You took it from his hand and noticed that he was dressed for jogging. "Thank you. Were you working out?"

"Yeah, I went for a jog then passed by the cafe for that," he replied, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Anyway, gotta go. I got work today. Enjoy your day off though!"

"Thanks again. Have fun at work!"

You didn't think you'd see him again that day, but you did. The brunch date Yunseo had set up with you and Jaehee happened to be at Nana's Cafe in a different branch.

Yunseo said Jaemin would be here today. She wasn't wrong because Jaemin was at the counter, taking orders. He noticed you and immediately switched with a staff to take your orders.

"These are my coworkers. You've met them before," you introduced. "Jaehee and Yunseo."

Yunseo stood up to shake hands with him. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," Jaemin beamed. "What can I get you started with?"

After taking your orders, you chatted amongst yourselves and waited for it to come. Jaemin was the one who brought it out too when they were ready, even going as far as giving three small slices of chocolate cake to each of you. He said it was on the house since he was glad to meet your friends.

"Thanks, Jae," you sang before he left.

"He likes you," Jaehee chimed as soon as Jaemin was out of earshot. You shushed her but Yunseo joined in on the teasing.

"He does."

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "Jaemin is an old friend and he'd always been nice to me since high school."

"Then he must have liked you for a long time now! You sync so perfectly, even your wristwatch was the same colors!" Yunseo pointed out enthusiastically.

"How did you even catch the color of his watch?" you questioned, genuinely bewildered by her attention to detail.

Jaemin liking you was a ridiculous idea that you refused to entertain. But it lingered in your mind. As you went home, you wondered if Jaemin had always been that sweet and friendly. The answer was no. He was more of a subtle kind of friend, coming up with clever ways to make people feel special despite acting aloof most of the time. He must have gotten over his inexpressiveness and is now being openly nice and sweet to his friends.

To you, you thought he had always been aloof too. But he did make you feel his friendly affection in some ways.

Participants had an interview at your company on Monday and it was broadcast live online. You were there as part of the PR team and closely monitored interactions with viewers. Sure enough, a lot of people watched the Live, proving just how popular the chefs were. After that stint, Jaemin approached you for a favor.

"Anything within my powers," you quipped.

"How about coming over to the cafe to test new recipes?"

You had no plans tonight so you decided to agree. "Sure, but I'm not a food critic so I'm not sure if I can help."

"Can we come too?" asked Jaehee and only then did you realize that they were listening in.

Jaemin nodded. "Of course! I'd be happy to cater to you. But I can only take the three of you since the food is limited and I already have other guests coming."

"Oh, no worries. We won't be bringing anyone else," Yunseo assured, pushing Woojin aside when he was passing by you.

They chatted for a bit while you quietly observed, a little embarrassed that Jaemin had to cater to extra guests when he already had other people coming. But you decided he was probably alright with it since he agreed.

The cafe across the street was closed when you arrived. Aside from the staff, there was no one else in the cafe and you found yourself asking Jaemin about his guests.

"Oh, they canceled. It was actually just a friend from culinary school and his girlfriend. They said it was an emergency and I knew better than to ask," Jaemin explained. "I'm gonna go finish up in the kitchen. I should join you in a bit."

"Yeah, go ahead," your coworkers said.

When Jaemin left, Jaehee said, "It would have been awkward if only you and Jaemin were here."

"Or romantic," Yunseo argued. "I bet he'd prefer that too."

"Right? He's so obvious! I can't even!" Jaehee gushed and you can only shake your head.

Obvious how? It's either you're blind to it or they're making a big deal out of nothing. Well, sure, there were times he would randomly say cheesy stuff but he never expounded on that and you assumed he had been joking each time. Other than that, you were sure Jaemin was just being his usual self. Jaehee and Yunseo wouldn't understand because they weren't the ones who had been friends with Jaemin for a long time.

"Should we just give them the space?" Yunseo giggled.

"We should."

"Don't you dare." you threatened just as Jaemin was coming out of the kitchen.

He had got rid of his apron and you assumed he'll be joining you for dinner now. "Is the wine good?"

"It's impeccable. Good taste, Jaemin," Jaehee complimented but her eyes were on you when Jaemin sat on the vacant seat right next to you and then grabbed your glass to drink from it.

He must have noticed how Yunseo and Jaehee were looking at him because he cleared his throat and put the glass down. "She doesn't like wine. She hasn't even touched it."

"Ah, I see," Yunseo said before shooting you a teasing look. "You seem to know a lot about her."

Jaemin shrugged and then smiled widely. "Well, she's an interesting person. Don't you think?"

Food came one by one and you thought the teasing would end there but Jaemin took it a notch when he would place food on your plate carefully each time. The knowing looks from your coworkers did not miss your eye but you just gestured for them to be quiet.

You started eating after thanking Jaemin and you noticed how he watched your faces for reactions before starting his own meal. Yunseo and Jaehee uttered alarmingly specific accounts about the food while you can only say it was great and flavorful.

"You're lucky we're here then. We're quite the food critic, you know," Yunseo joked.

"Yeah. Your interesting friend can literally offer nothing but an affirmative nod," Jaehee teased and you blushed because it was true.

"In my defense, you didn't tell me I need Michelin evaluator qualifications to be here," you ranted to Jaemin who just shook his head with a fond smile on his lips.

"No, not at all. I invited you here because I wanted you to try the food, not because I need you to criticize me like I'm in Masterchef."

Yeonsu and Jaehee let out 'ooohs' and even whistled. Jaemin seemed proud and even encouraged the two girls but you weren't having it.

"Like a test animal?"

Leave it up to you to ruin a cute moment. Thank you.

There were more comments on the food with a few of your innocently worded inputs. Jaemin takes out another bottle of wine that you shared with casual conversations before it was time to go. Yeonsu and Jaehee left after Jaemin explicitly said you two can go home together since you live in the same building. You can already imagine the teasing you'll get the next day, but you just sighed. Jaemin noticed your dilemma as he poured more wine for himself.

"Are you okay?" he asked before taking a swig from his glass.

"Yeah, it's just... My coworkers think you like me or something," you began, trailing off on your words but he caught them just fine. "It's ridiculous, I know. But it's just because they don't know the kind of person you are, that's why they're saying those."

He tilted his head curiously. "What kind of person do you think am I?"

You were a bit taken aback by his question so you cleared your throat and straightened your back before replying. "Well, I think you're sweet and nice. Very gentlemanly and thoughtful too."

"Really?" He cocked an eyebrow at you.

You laughed derisively. "I knew you've always been nice since we were younger and even now, you're still considerate as ever. To Yunseo and Jaehee, they might think you're going the extra mile because you like me, but we both know you've always been a really good friend to everyone."

Jaemin straightened up and rested his back on the chair before sighing your name and glancing at you. "I'm not all that, you know."

"And you're very humble too," you chuckled, clinking your glass on his before taking a sip of your juice.

"It's the truth," he insisted. "I'm pretty laid back and didn't care much unless it involves me. And I'm the most passive when it comes to friendly relations. I'd say I'm a considerate man, but mostly just for my friends."

"Well, maybe that's what you think. But me and all your other friends sure know you're a really great friend. I'd know because you were very considerate of me too," you affirmed, worried that he might think so lowly of himself when he is in fact a great guy.

Jaemin just chuckled. "You don't get it do you, y/n? I know myself better than anyone. And I'm pretty sure I tried going the extra mile just for you."

You fell quiet. He must have been drunk to be saying all of that. Or maybe you were and you're mind is playing tricks on you so you're hearing things in your head. But you wouldn't be able to confirm it because he fell asleep on the table all of a sudden and you realized he just emptied the wine bottle and now he's passed out drunk. And here you thought he had a high alcohol tolerance.

Luckily, a staff was still cleaning in the kitchen and he helped you take Jaemin to your car so you can drive him home. It wasn't your best idea, and you knew you wouldn't be able to carry him up the building, but you drove home anyway.

You tried waking Jaemin when you reached the parking lot and he stirred in his seat, blinking as he focused his gaze on his surroundings. He glanced sideways at you and flashed the biggest smile you have ever seen from him. "You're very pretty."

"Thanks, I know that. Now come on, let's get you to bed."

He was basically zombie-walking down the hallways but you're happy that he can still walk so you just held him in place. You could tell he was terribly sleepy by the way his head would fall suddenly.

"Here we are. Can you enter your passcode?" you asked slowly, making sure he could hear you. With a drunk smile he reached for the door and started entering his passcode but he couldn't hit the right keys.

"Damn, why are the numbers dodging," he laughed before trying again. He kept going at it but he just couldn't get it right even as he shook his head aggressively in his attempt to sober up.

After several annoyed huffs from you, he laughingly pressed his nose on the side of your head and whispered the passcode before falling limp on your hold.

You were dumbfounded for a second, cradling Jaemin while you processed your thoughts. You tried to brush off the heat that resulted from the sudden contact and hurriedly entered his passcode. You couldn't even remember where you got the strength to drag him to his sofa and leave him there, but you were glad that you finally did. He mumbled incoherently but you were so focused on the warmth in your ear that you just stormed out of his unit and then hid into yours.

Jaemin woke up in a daze, blinking as the sun shone through the open curtains of his big windows. He recognized his living room and wondered why he wasn't in his room. He massaged his aching temple and rose from his uncomfortable position on the sofa and then groaned in disgust upon realizing he had slept in his outside clothes. Struggling with a headache and feeling disgusted by his own smell, he dunked an Advil in the bathroom and took a shower.

He recalled being at the cafe with you and your coworkers. Then he remembered how he finished an entire bottle and blacked out. He had bits of memories scattered in place as well as one where he openly told you you were pretty. He smiled idiotically at the memory, drying his hair with a towel as he downed a whole bottle of hangover tonic. He now remembered that you took him home and feels sorry for the trouble but he just can't stop smiling, especially after the doorbell rang and he saw your face on the monitor.

He cleared his throat first and kept a straight face before opening the door to greet you. You handed a small bottle of hangover drink to him.

You weren't looking at him straight and he could tell you were annoyed by the way your brows were knitted together. "You must be hungover. You were so drunk last night."

Jaemin didn't have it in him to refuse even after he had just finished a bottle of the same tonic. Besides, he's just happy to see you this early. "Thank you. Oh, and I'm sorry about last night. I don't usually get drunk but that wine was a fairly new addition to the menu. I had no idea it would be that strong."

You glanced at him briefly before looking away again. You didn't even move your head. "You finished an entire bottle by yourself, Jaemin. Surely you figured you'd get drunk?"

"Yeah, I did but it wasn't my intention really. Thanks for taking me home."

"Don't mention it. You did cook some delicious food for us, and it was free so this is nothing."

"If I wasn't a businessman, I wouldn't charge you for anything at all," Jaemin grinned, eyes shifting to your clothes and he realized that you were already dressed for work. "Do you need a ride? I'm going over there today."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You left your car in Apgujeong."

"Oh shit, I did, didn't I?"

You just scoffed. "I can give you a lift but I'm running late so..."

"There's no need. Thanks for the offer."

"Okay, bye," you turned to leave and Jaemin panicked so he called your name. When you glanced back, he was unsure of what to say. In his mind, he was trying to find a good reason to be alone with you again.

Should he invite you over to the cafe again? No, he already did that. Maybe dinner? Just the two of you? Wouldn't it be too forward? How about coffee? Nah, you get coffee everyday.

"What is it, Jaemin?"

Your voice pulled him out of his musings. "Nothing. Have fun at work."

You chuckled. "Thanks. You too."

You bade him goodbye and he reluctantly waved at you then watched your back disappear into the elevator. Maybe next time, after all, he agreed to take one step at a time.

You expected Yunseo and Jaehee to tease you at work and they didn't disappoint. So now you're explaining to them how you two happened to just live in the same building. Yunseo was gushing about destiny but you laughed at her absurdity, then you remembered the way he whispered in your ear and felt your face flare. You saw him that morning and he seemed perky like always so you thought he must have no recollection of it. The Jaemin you knew would apologize for behaving inappropriately, especially in a drunken state. You decided it was best to keep it to yourself rather than bring it up and make things awkward. It was an accident, you're sure of it. Jaemin doesn't even seem to remember that.

The fact that you didn't see Jaemin at all for the next three days didn't help erase the memory of his lips on the side of your head. Why? Because his pictures are in every pubmat you were making, it actually felt more like he was right there with you the whole time. You now share your team leader's wish that you had a different person for the layouts and pubmats. He might have wanted it for efficiency, but you wanted it just so you could stop staring at Jaemin's handsome face.

The competition broadcast came. You sat on a desk behind the filming crew, where you will be monitoring the comments and interactions on the live broadcast. The chefs arrived after a short trip to the styling room and you liked how Jaemin looked in his chef uniform and the apron that bore his cafe's logo on the chest. You knew this was a leap in his career since he only ever got photographed by customers instead of actually using his visuals to promote himself. If it was a PR stunt, then you'd think he was smart enough to have branded himself a humble, handsome chef who relies on talent rather than his looks. But knowing him, you knew it was all a spontaneous occurrence that just happened to go in his favor.

The mini-competition started and while you tried to be neutral as a staff member, you couldn't help rooting for Jaemin. Two of the chefs were influencers with a fanbase. Jaemin was the only one who didn't capitalize on his physical appearance and as a PR person, you'd say he was dumb for that but as his friend, you respected him for it. Then again, more people were drawn to the mysterious 'It boy' who appears on the regular but kept a low profile from the internet.

The broadcast would go on for more than an hour since the challenge was to whip up a gourmet dish in less than 45 minutes. After getting the judges to taste the dishes, Chef Jisook ended up winning the grand prize, with Jaemin trailing behind her after receiving praise for his fusion dish that 'redefined Korean cuisine'.

After the filming wrapped up, Jaemin found you in the pool of busy people and skipped over to you with a big smile. "The CEO offered to have me in one episode of the cooking show."

"That's great! Good for you!" you cheered, nudging his elbow with yours. "That's because you're so talented."

The cooking show was an online thing that the company regularly does. It has a steady following and does well to promote the brand and the guests that star in it are usually famous chefs and celebrities. Being on that show would surely catapult Jaemin's name and brand. You were telling Jaemin all that as he drove his car to one of his cafes.

You caught him smiling at you like he was staring at you rather than listening so you stopped talking.

"Why'd you stop?"

"Because you stopped," you replied, looking outside to see where you parked. Jaemin said there's no need to rush but you shrugged and got off the car first. He followed soon after and you immediately spotted your friends inside the building.

You ran inside to greet your friends and explicitly noted how Seola was still with Minho. You said he must be doing the right thing since he's still around.

"Excuse me, my man is not a cheat," Seola defended, wrapping an arm around Minho's waist. "As a matter of fact, we're getting married."

"You are?" you exclaimed, covering your mouth in surprise.

Seola was satisfied with your reaction. "Yes. Why do you think we're gathered today? It's because Minho proposed to me the other day."

"Oh my god," you said, pulling her into a hug.

Hyuck was chuckling on your side. "She's trying to race with Jeno."

"No, I'm not!" Seola insisted, glaring at the guy. "It was a spontaneous decision."

Everyone disagreed because you all know that if the opposite of spontaneous is a person, it would be Seola.

"It's not, but we had been talking about it after Seola said she wanted to get married before thirty," Minho confessed. "We wanted children and getting pregnant after thirty is risky so the sooner, the better. We are financially stable and in love, so what's stopping there to stop us?"

"Yeah, well, I hope you don't end up getting divorced," Heejin jeered and instantly received a glare from Seola.

"Why are you cursing us already? You're mean," Seola pouted, hiding behind Minho.

You understood where she was coming from, after all, you have thought about the same thing before. You planned to get married before thirty when you were younger. Even today, you're still considering it. You still have four years before that, but that too could be considered a short time. And of course, you are yet to find a match who is worth spending the rest of your life with. Divorce is never an option for you.

Your eyes found Jaemin's. He had been staring and you caught him, but instead of looking away, he held your gaze with reassurance and some kind of comfort that you didn't quite understand the purpose of but you still appreciated. For some reason, you thought maybe you could consider him. That is if he was serious about what he had been implying these past few days—that he liked you before and he likes you now.

Jeno soon arrived with his fiancee and you were all happy to meet her at last. The night continued and you even got to bring up how Jaemin almost won the cooking competition. Hyuck said he saw it and watched it from start to finish.

"Donghyuck, why are you so interested in everybody's business?" Seola joked and only when she brought that up did you realize that Hyuck was indeed interested in everybody's business.

"It's because I love all of you, dumbasses," Hyuck announced, even standing up to raise his glass.

Everyone on the table cheered in agreement. Who's to say he was lying? None of you could ever because you all know it was Donghyuck who was always checking in on each of you, always making plans to meet, and keeping the friendship alive. Donghyuck is the foundation of this friend group.

You went out for some fresh air after hours of sitting there with your friends, laughing and going through bottles and bottles of alcohol. You were trying to sober up a bit and you were wondering if you should go home. Jeno joined you a little later, breathing in the cool air as he tucked his hands in his jacket.

"Hey," he greeted in a prolonged manner.

"Hey," you smiled back at him. "Congratulations again, by the way. She's such a lovely woman."

"I know," he chuckled. "I got lucky."

You just smiled, taking in more of the night air. The streets were bright but it wasn't as busy as it was earlier that night. You started thinking that going home would be smooth without any traffic.

"It's been so long since we last talked to each other," he pointed out and you nodded. Although he was present at your father's funeral several months ago, he didn't get the chance to say anything to you other than utter his condolences. "I wish I could hang out with all of you more often. On the rare times that I could, it's mostly just with Jaemin and Donghyuck."

"Well, you got busy and I had a lot of things going on in my life too, so..."

"Yeah, you're right," he chuckled. "At least we get to hang out like this. I'm sure I'll get more chances to meet everyone once I'm married. You know, I can worry less about being in public and live more like any ordinary person."

"Good for you, then," you chimed. "And I'm happy for you. We all are."

"Thank you. Will you come to my wedding? It's in three weeks and the invitations haven't been sent out yet but I'm inviting you in advance."

"I think I might," you said sheepishly. You were joking about going to his wedding with Jaemin, but now that he's inviting you, you feel shy all of a sudden. It would feel normal if you had kept in contact with him like the rest of your friends, but a long time has passed without any interaction between you. You were wondering if you should even be there at all.

"You know, I told Jaemin I'd invite you and he said you don't need a card because you can go as his plus one." You scowled at Jeno upon hearing that.

"He said that?"

Jeno just shrugged and nodded. You imagined being Jaemin's plus one and wondered how the two guys came to a conclusion that you would just agree on it. But then again, you had no reason to disagree or even refuse to go with Jaemin. It's not like you would hate to go with him. In fact, it would be fun to go with either Jaemin or Hyuck. "Is that why he brought it up before?"

"Maybe. You can go together, you know. You look great together. If I didn't know better, I'd assume you were dating because of the way your clothes don't match but kinda matched. Your vibes are just syncing effortlessly. It's adorable."

His implication was loud and clear but you just laughed it off. "I'll be there. Maybe as Jaemin's plus one, or maybe not. But I'll be there. You wouldn't let your first love miss the best day of your life, would you?"

Jeno laughed heartily and you felt proud about making a good joke. "Of course, my first love can't miss my wedding. You better prepare a hefty cash gift."

"Look at this chaebol ripping people off," you ridiculed.

"We're spending quite a lot on that wedding. Pay us back."

"Ugh, now I'm rethinking if I should go or not."

Jeno laughed, glancing back to the cafe when his fiancee called his name. "I'm kidding. You better be there, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," you said dismissively shooing him away but he was already running back to the cafe.

As you watched, you saw Jaemin make his way towards you. You were feeling drowsy, but you stayed standing as you waited for him to reach you. Then when he was within your reach, you said, "I heard you needed a date for the wedding and you picked me."

Jaemin chuckled, his cheeks were a bit flushed due to alcohol. "Nah, I'm pretty sure you're the one who's gonna do the picking because Hyuck is also dateless."

"Ah, so I still get to make the decision. Good to know."

"If you choose me, I'll pay for the wedding gift for you," Jaemin challenged and you nodded, showing an expression that told him you were considering it.

"Tempting. But I'll have to see what Hyuck is willing to wager."

"Probably a dress. I heard him say, but I'm pretty confident you'd like me more."

You scoffed. "Now I want to pick him just to spite you."

Jaemin fake heart attack and you just scoffed loudly as he pretended to fall over. He laughingly stood up. "Come on. Don't be mean to me."

"Stop copying my style! People are starting to think we're dating," you chided, but he just shrugged.

"It's either we both have good taste or stores are just selling the same colors everywhere."

You laughed as you both walked back to the cafe. Your friends soon left and as usual, you and Jaemin decided to go home together. The cafe was near the condo and you were both a little drunk so you decided to just walk there. You were clutching your bag clumsily as you staggered on the sidewalk so Jaemin offered his arm for you to hold on to and you latched on it like your life depended on it, uttering a soft 'thanks'. You felt steadier like that and warmer with his body close to yours. For a while, you just walked quietly before he started asking questions.

"How's your mom?" he asked, adding, "Mine told me they went to a spa last week."

You grinned. "Yeah, mine said the same thing. She's doing great. She still refused to leave town or sell the house, insisting that Dad's memory lived there. I'd love for the house to remain there too but I'm worried about her being alone."

"You can always visit her. It's not that far."

"Right. I should visit more often."

Jaemin sighed. "What about work? Anything new?"

"Not really. The anniversary events are what keep me busy these days. Other than the cooking show today, there's nothing noteworthy." You fished your phone from your bag when it started ringing. It was Heejin and you answered it right away. "Hi. Did you get home alright?"

"Yes, but this thing won't work," she grumbled and you couldn't see what was going on but you could hear her frustration in her voice.

"What is it?"

"My passcode. I forgot my passcode. My house is threatening to lock me out."

"It's 112799," you told her, rolling your eyes and silently judging her for forgetting it each time she gets drunk.

"Thanks," she muttered before hanging up. You just grimaced at the phone before chucking it back into your purse.

"Heejin?"

"Yeah, she forgot her passcode. It happens all the time."

Jaemin nodded. "It's amazing how you stayed close all these years."

"We literally grew up together. I'd say we don't have a choice," you said in faked indifference. It made Jaemin laugh. "I'm kidding. She's my sister from another mother. My apartment was actually her cousin's. She hooked me up with her and I was able to rent it for a good price."

"Isn't it amazing how out of all the apartments in Seoul, and all the floors in that building, we ended up being neighbors?" he asked and you nodded, unconsciously nuzzling closer to him when the wind blew.

"I know. It's a small world."

"No, it's actually a big world. A huge one. It's fate that brings things to cross paths at one point. Like an invisible string. In our case, our paths crossed so much that we became a part of each other's lives and by extension, a small part of each other."

You giggled. "It's beautiful how you worded things. You could be a poet." You saw him smile shyly at the compliment but then you added. "Yunseo has a nice way with words too. You two would get along well."

"We already get along."

"Yeah, but like, in a romantic way. She likes you and she actually asked me to set you up. You should go out sometime," you were blabbering so much and didn't even notice that Jaemin had stopped walking. You were holding on to him so you were forced to stop too. He took your arm off of his and took a few steps away. "What? It's true Yunseo likes you. She told me herself. I'm not just randomly making decisions for her."

"No, but you're making decisions for me," he said pointedly and the annoyed look on his face made you shy.

"Sorry. Alcohol unzipped my mouth."

"So you're saying it because you're drunk? You're not serious about setting me up with another girl?"

While you were confused about the purpose of the question, you still replied. "No, not really. I think I just said it because I have nothing else to say."

"Good because I'm not interested in anyone else."

His words confused you but you knew deep it inside that the message was clear. He is interested in you. Yet you told yourself that your drunk mind is giving you false signals. You saw that you'd stopped in front of your building so you pointed at it and started skipping to the entrance. Jaemin just followed you with an absent-minded smile.

You rarely bumped into Jaemin in the building because obviously, your schedules are different. When you do, it is often at the elevator which is still rare. Today just decided to be different. You stepped out of your unit at the same time and you had no excuse to avoid getting in the elevator with him. He didn't spare your conflicted feelings and you were sure it was because he had no idea you were even conflicted in the first place.

Especially after he said, "I finally caught you. Sometimes I try to leave earlier or a little later just to see if we'd bump into each other but we never did. It's been like four months since you moved here but we barely saw each other."

"We see each other a lot actually," you laughed after pointing that out.

"I know but I meant here in the building."

"You're right." You separate ways quickly, getting into your car as soon as you spot it in the parking lot and running off with a hurried goodbye.

To say you escaped was an understatement but you had to if you want to stop thinking about things that would make your friendship weird. Unbeknownst to you, Jaemin was in his own league of making sure you see each other at least once a day.

You walked into Nana's Cafe confidently on a Tuesday, knowing he wouldn't be there. But Jaemin's radiant smile welcomed you, accompanied by a nice piece of heart-shaped cookie. When you refused to go to the cafe on a Wednesday, he dropped by your office to hand-deliver lunch. You avoided going to the cafe at all but you found him outside your office building waiting for you to get off work. On the weekend, he knocked on your door early to give you a cup of warm coffee. It went on for days and you had gotten used to the teasing from your coworkers and the assumptions about him being your boyfriend. You wanted several times to confront him but you didn't want to be the first to bring it up, after all, you're still arguing with yourself that he is just being a nice friend like usual. But it doesn't help that the text messages that previously looked like a food promotion chatbox are now filled with selfies of him with updates on what he's doing that day.

"Oh my god. I knew it. He likes you," Heejin announced clapping her hands triumphantly. You had invited her and Seola over after days of taking unsolicited but appreciated advice from Yunseo and Jaehee. You never shared your part of the story with them because you don't think you're close enough for it. So you decided to seek Heejin and Seola and pour your heart out to them.

"But he didn't say that," you insisted.

"He was showing it. You know Jaemin. He prefers showing his feelings more than talking about them," Seola pointed out so you crossed your arms over your chest and turned to her.

"If he can say all these fancy things and subtle hints about liking me, I think he can very well say he likes me straight to my face," you retorted then Heejin and Seola comically nodded in unison.

"That makes sense. How about talking to him about it?"

You scowled. "What? Like, confront him?"

"Yeah."

"No. I can't. I don't want to. Confrontations scare me."

"Then maybe telling you he likes you straight to your face scares him too. You can't just think about yourself in this situation, y/n," Seola insinuated and it made sense so you slumped on your sofa, face first.

"Maybe he really likes you, you know. He could be in love with you too. It's not so strange to think about. You're a catch, don't you realize that?"

"Heejin's right. You're gorgeous. You're smart. You're cute too and you're very caring. Your sense of humor is not that great but you're fun to talk to. Also, although I know he doesn't care about money at all, you're rich and your family background is impressive. Any man would fall for you."

Maybe the idea wasn't so far-fetched. Despite your every attempt to deny it, Jaemin really did show you he liked you even before what happened on the day of Seola's dinner party. He would give you a compliment and a cookie with your coffee. He messaged you every day and would send you weather updates every morning. When you met outside the building, he always offered to give you a ride even when he knew you had your own car. He had always acted like that and only now are you seeing every sign, clear as day and you can't ignore them. He likes you enough to put in this much effort for you. It keeps repeating in your head. Jaemin likes you.

"What are you so worried about? Don't you like Jaemin?" Heejin asked.

Come to think about it, don't you? You liked his smile. You like how warm it makes you feel and how familiar he seems to you. You liked hanging out with him, laughing and fooling around, and secretly making fun of strangers. Ever since you got here, you shared all the good things that happened to you with Jaemin. Now looking back, it seems Jaemin had always been a part of everything that happened to you, good or bad. It's just like the invisible string he mentioned. Except that you have both become a part of each other's life; a piece of each other.

"Does Na Jaemin really like me? Like for real?" you mumbled to yourself, your mind drifting off to more thoughts of him. "Because if he does, don't you think he's too good for me? His smile is so pretty. He's very talented and he's a good cook. Damn, even his laughter is beautiful. His voice, the lines on his cheeks when he grins, the way he's always warm when I'm near him. The way he consistently took care of me and even went out of his way several times for me. He's too good to be true."

Seola and Heejin chuckled before clinking their shot glasses together and taking shots of soju. "She likes him."

You buried your face in your palms and let out a strained shriek. "I think I do."

[To be continued in Part 2]

#nct #nct fanfic #nct x reader #jaemin #jaemin x you #nct jaemin #nct x you #nct au #nct x y/n #na jaemin #jaemin x reader #nct fluff

[honeylations]

SON JIWOO x FEM!READER

Prompt: You attend a party in celebration of exams ending, only to find your crush being cornered by her ex boyfriend

Warnings/Notes: uni au, drinking, kissing, mentions of cheating, suggestive at the end

———

“Chanelle! Y/n! Welcome to the party-“ Yeji interrupted herself upon seeing your outfit tonight. “Wohohoho look at you Kwon Y/n~ Is this really you?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, unable to hide the proud smile creeping your lips. Yeji was right though, you had decided to go all out with your look, wanting to impress everyone (more like SOMEONE) with your visuals.

“Nerdy architecture student Y/n?! No this is womaniser Y/n!!” Chanelle did jazz hands as if you were her successful experiment. Which is technically true.

Upon finding out your crush was going to be at this party, you cried to Chanelle on the phone about dressing you nicely like a doll. Of course, she was more than happy to help you despite the 3 hours it took of actually finding an outfit in your dull closet.

Chanelle was also right on the ‘nerdy architecture student’ title because every lecture, every brunch, every dinner, you stuck with the same purple Champion hoodie that Yunah got you for your birthday 3 years ago. The colour had faded and some threading came loose but you refused to wear anything else as you quoted: ‘I am attending a 2 hour lecture. Not a fashion show’.

Your friends tried to convince you by using Son Jiwoo, your campus crush, as an excuse to dress better but your buildings are on complete opposite sides of the University so what was the point? It didn’t matter.

Well now it did matter. You had your hair down for once, revealing the outgrown wolf cut that Ruka offered to trim and retouch, and Chanelle organised a simple black long sleeve button up and slacks to help scream ‘lesbian’.

She suggested for you to wear your contacts but you remembered doing that last time while being absolutely wasted and you ended up forgetting to remove them before you passed out in bed. Wasn’t a pleasant morning afterwards, having to deal with sore blood shot eyes for the week.

“You dressed her well, Chanelle. I feel so proud of our Y/n-ie!” Yeji fake cried before letting you fully step into the loud dorm. It was dark but the little neon lights allowed you to see just how many people were here, recognising a few from your classes.

“Jiwoo is in the kitchen if you’re wondering” Funa said in your ear, making you jump.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

The girl laughed and ran her hands from your shoulders down to your arms. “Wow you look great. So pretty but so handsome, rawrrr!”

What you didn’t notice was Jiwoo eyeing you from the kitchen doorway, shooting daggers at Funa who’s hands could not leave your shoulders. Taking a sip from her red cup, she walked back into the kitchen for more liquor.

“Are you drunk? You’re very handsy” You chuckled at Funa.

She gave your shoulders one last squeeze. “You work out so well, I’m jealous. And no, I’m not drunk”

You shrugged at her. “Gotta stay in shape or else the ladies won’t love me”

“Ladies? You mean Jiwoo” She winked. “Get yourself a drink, Y/n. You deserve it after studying so hard”

You nodded and bid her a goodbye before making a beeline to the kitchen that had lights on, being better for you compared to the dark noisy living room. Chanelle was already on her 5th cup, having a good chat with Minju by the drinks table. They both noticed your presence.

“Hey Y/n! I didn’t even recognise you!” Minju beamed, eyeing you from head to toe.

“I’m gonna get that a lot tonight, huh?” You smirked and poured yourself some vodka and sprite.

“Let loose Y/n-ie! Our future architect deserves a reward” Chanelle winked your way, being enough of a reason for you to chug your drink and pouring a second round.

For the next half an hour, the effects of the alcohol got you more extroverted than you usually are, talking with classmates to talking with strangers, most of them being pretty med students that marked you as their eye candy. But they weren’t Jiwoo so you turned down any offers of taking things upstairs.

Being on your god knows how much cup, you were leaning your back against the counter while chatting with Ryujin about your childhood together when Yunjin appears with her hand around Chaewon’s waist.

“Hey there, architect” Yunjin grinned.

“Hey lovebirds, enjoying the party?” You asked with a smiling Ryujin.

“Better question is, how come you’re not making any moves on Jiwoo, huh? You’re dolled up like this and not expecting to get laid?” Chaewon tilted her head at you mockingly.

“I don’t just go up to someone like that, Chae” You laughed.

The three started a whole new conversation when you looked over Yunjin’s shoulder and saw the girl you’ve been thinking of getting cornered by a guy. You sighed and took another big gulp out of your red cup, turning around to pour another. Ryujin slapped your arm

“Slow down there, Kwon. You’re gonna kill yourself”

“What’s the point. Jiwoo’s getting talked to by some dude that could’ve been me” you grumbled, drinking your new pour with ease, going straight for another.

They all looked at where Jiwoo was, Yunjin frowning as she realised the situation. “Uh, doesn’t look like she’s into it actually. She looks uncomfortable”

Throwing your eyes back to your crush, you could see Yunjin was right. Jiwoo had her shoulders up with a disgusted look while the guy was trapping her between the wall and his body.

“Isn’t that Hwan?” (OC character) Chaewon questioned.

“Didn’t they break up two months ago? What could he possibly want?” Ryujin questioned next.

“Look away” You simply huffed and set your empty cup down before walking your way to the two students.

“This is gonna be so good” Yunjin smirked, Chaewon and Ryujin joining in as a small audience.

“I’m back now, baby. It can be us again” Hwan whispered into Jiwoo’s ear, kissing at her ear before he got pushed away by your hand.

“Ever heard of consent?” You hissed.

Jiwoo could finally breathe, holding onto the back of your shirt while she hid.

“And you are?”

You gulped and thought of the first response that came to mind. “Her girlfriend. Is there a problem?”

Jiwoo’s eyes widened, clutching your shirt tighter as her heart rate quickened. Being called her girlfriend was something she dreamt of for way too long.

“Cut the bullshit. She needs a real man and I’m the closest thing to that compared to you” He jabbed a finger at your shoulder.

You took a step closer, killing him with a deathly stare that Jiwoo nor anyone hasn’t seen before, causing an uncomfortable aura around you. “Having a 3 inch dick doesn’t make you a man, Hwan”

His eye twitched before trying to reach around to grab Jiwoo but you aggressively pushed his hand away and grabbed at his polo collar. “Don’t you fucking touch what’s not yours” You growled.

Jiwoo gasped and was quick to grab onto your shoulder, trying not to distract herself from the yummy muscles she was feeling. The touch made you look at her.

“Y/n baby, please don’t. He’s not worth it”

Releasing a heavy sigh, you pushed Hwan away with your eyes piercing angrily into his. You snapped out of it when you felt arms slide up your neck, making you face Jiwoo who held you close. “Please don’t hate me for this” She whispered, not letting you question it the moment her lips pushed into yours.

Instantly closing your eyes, your hands went around her exposed waist while kissing deeply back. You opened your eyes briefly to lock eyes with an embarrassed Hwan as you squeezed Jiwoo’s waist. The man cursed under his breath and left the party.

Jiwoo gently pulled away, fixing your glasses that got wonky from the kiss. Your hands never left each other. “I’m sorry, Y/n”

“Don’t be, please. Just felt the need to save you. Who was he anyways?”

“My ex. He’s insane, don’t worry so much about him” She sighed and ran her hands over your strong shoulders.

“May I ask what happened between you two?”

“Cheated on me, that’s all. I don’t care anyways since I’m here with you. I’ve wanted you for a while now, Y/n” she smiled.

You were about to melt from the blunt confession. “Same here. I didn’t even know you knew my name”

“I’m mutual friends with Chaewon. The moment I saw you, I had to ask her for every detail”

“Stalker much” you joked, letting her head rest against your chest.

She went on her tippy toes to give light kisses under your jaw, marking it with her red lipstick. “You look so fucking good tonight. You don’t understand how crazy you made me, Y/n”

“Oh believe me, I’ve been worse”

She then placed lipstick marks on your cheek to the rest of your face. “Glad you’re out of that same purple hoodie you always wear” She giggled.

You looked at her shocked. “Hey, don’t be mean. I love that hoodie because Yunah gifted it to me!”

“If I buy you a new hoodie can you let that purple one go for once?”

“If it’s from you, I don’t mind anything”

Jiwoo shook her head from your cheesy words.

“Well Miss Son Jiwoo, how about we change this fake girlfriend thing to something real?”

She looked up at you and bit her lower lip. “Hm. If you make me forget everything tonight, I’ll consider it”

You noticed the seductive tone in her voice, easily intertwining your hands and walking towards Yeji’s spare bedroom.

“WOOOH YOU GO Y/N!” Ryujin yelled.

“GET IT BABY!!” Yunjin screamed afterwards.

A/N: Yes finally wrote for mommy Jiwoo :p I can write a smut part if y’all want😭

#Son Jiwoo #gxg #wlw #r u next x reader #r u next #Son Jiwoo x reader

[russiandoll-from-brooklyn]

Just Once - Part 2

Title: Just Once - Part 2

Some of y'all were asking for Part 2 of Just Once so here ya go! This picks up right after the first story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!reader

Summary: Grief and loneliness got the best of you last night. Your friendship with Tony was too precious to risk, and now all you want to do is move on. But what happens when the other party doesn't want to forget?

Warnings: smut, language, (technically) cheating, friends to lovers, mentions of past canon trauma, oral (f receiving), protected sex

Word Count: 5.1k

[Starts out sweet and all about tony x reader friendship, then turns into steamy Tony smut. Table sex, included. 😳]

---

Thump, thump, thump.

Your feet hit the pavement rhythmically as you jog your normal morning route. It’s a misty Seattle morning, and the world is still quiet. The sun is rising sleepily, beginning to bathe the world in gold. All is well.

Except. It isn’t.

You turn the block corner, and your apartment comes into sight. You take a glance down at your watch.

42 minutes.

That’s how long ago you had quietly slipped out of your apartment for your morning run. That’s how long it had been since your eyes shot open and you remembered the events of last night, rushing into your mind, all at once like a tsunami. You had turned your head to find Tony still asleep beside you in the bed. One leg sticking out of the messy sheets and his face buried in the pillow. Your pillow.

You had stared at him in disbelief, half-expecting him to disintegrate into a fleeting figment of your imagination. You had rubbed your eyes, trying to clear the haze.

Nope. Still there.

You silently curse yourself and your stupidity (see: weakness in the face of sexual temptation) for the 50th time this morning as you approach the brick building. Perhaps, when you reenter your apartment, Tony will be gone, and this will all have just been a bad trip — or something of the like.

Before you even open the door, the smell of frying bacon reaches your nose. You step inside and are greeted by a peculiar sight.

Tony Stark, clad in nothing but a pair of dark jeans, is buzzing about your small kitchenette. Simultaneously, there are eggs being flipped over-easy on the stovetop, orange juice being procured from the open fridge, bacon sizzling happily in a pan, and toast being buttered. You stand in amazement for a few seconds, processing the scene before you. The wonderful aroma of the all-American breakfast makes you mouth water.

“Y/N! Hey!” Tony exclaims when he sees you.

You slide onto a stool at the bar top, overlooking the controlled chaos unfolding in the kitchen area. Tony truly has remarkable skill when it comes to multitasking. You guess, all that time in the suit, operating about twenty computing systems at once, was good practice.

“Wow. Breakfast?” you remark, raising an eyebrow. “Since when do you cook?”

He scoffs, shooting you a brief smile before turning away to rapidly crack some black pepper onto the eggs.

“Cooking is easy. People think it’s a skill, but really it’s just planning, timing it out. It’s like assembling anything else. You just do the parts in order, trying not to break any yolks.”

You roll your eyes sarcastically at the classic “Tony” response.

Suddenly, all the components come crashing together, and Tony is setting down two perfectly assembled breakfast plates on the bar top — complete with a glass of orange juice for each of you. It looks delicious; it’s been way too long since you had a proper breakfast. Meaning, a breakfast that wasn’t cereal, a protein bar, or a bowl of sad, pale, scrambled eggs. You thank Tony as he pulls up the other stool to sit across from you.

“Dig in,” he says cheerfully, raising his fork. “Good run this morning?”

You nod, taking a big gulp of orange juice.

“Yeah, I heard you leaving,” Tony continues mindlessly. “Kind of weird waking up to an empty bed after a night like that. I finally know what it feels like to be on the other side, I guess.”

You nearly spit out your bite of toast. And just like that, reality comes crashing back down to earth. For a brief moment, it had felt like things could possibly come out normal on the other side. You and Tony could go back to being perfectly normal best friends.

How ignorant.

“What?” you remark incredulously.

You’re on the verge of laughter, partially out of amusement but mostly out of bewildered embarrassment.

Tony gives you his award-winning “I’m innocent!” raised-eyebrow expression. You suddenly become acutely aware of the situation. Tony Stark is sitting in your kitchen, shirtless, serving you breakfast. After you spent a far-from-platonic night rolling around your sheets together. You want to slap yourself.

“I’m talking about the incredible sex we had last night. And then, you leaving me alone before sunrise,” Tony explains casually, pushing your buttons further. “That's usually my play.”

He looks up at you, expecting a playful quip in return. Instead, you just slowly set down the fork you had been gripping.

“Tony,” you begin, seriously and calmly. “Let’s not talk about it. It was one night, and it won’t happen again. It was just once. We gave into the moment, but we shouldn’t-“

“The moment?” Tony suddenly blurts out, interrupting you. You purse your lips, surprised by the new and unexpected edge of anger in his voice. “God. Y/N. The moment, huh? You’re really just going to shrink it down to that. Just a moment.”

You stare at him, confused. Tony’s big brown eyes hold yours with an intensity. It's amazing how fast his sarcastic, playful tone can morph into ferocity. You want to look away, break his gaze, but you can’t. This whole thing was a mistake.

“It was fun,” you finally say. “But it was just a fuck. We were lonely.”

“You know, Y/N. You’re so damn smart,” Tony replies, leaning back a bit in his seat. “So, why do you always try and kid yourself? It bothers me. I know -- that you know -- that this wasn’t just a fuck.”

Your mind races through a million different responses.

Then, what was it?

What do you mean?

Why are you acting like this?

I'm not kidding myself.

But something tells you, deep down, that there's nothing you can say that won't lead to something you don't want to hear.

So, instead, you angrily snatch up your glass of orange juice, rising from your seat at the bar. You grit your teeth at Tony one more time before turning your back and striding toward to your study. You feel your cheeks burning hot.

The study is a second living room-sized space where you keep all your projects. Early sunlight is now streaming in through the large windows, falsely giving the impression of a peaceful Saturday morning. The large wooden table tops are littered with wires, microchips, and other electronic parts. When you first met the Avengers year ago, you and Tony butted heads over your shared expertise in technology and robotics. After much bickering and trying to outdo each other, you eventually accepted one another's intelligence and bonded over your shared field.

You look to the floor of your large study to see the air mattress you had set up there prior to Tony's arrival yesterday, obviously still pristine. You squeeze your eyes shut. Your apartment is absolutely dripping with reminders of last night's events. The empty whiskey glasses, still sitting on the side table in the living room. The couch pillows crumpled from the weight of your bodies, hungrily crashing together above them. You don't even want to think about your bedroom, where you're sure Tony's missing shirt is strewn on the ground.

You push the thoughts out of your your mind, pulling up a seat at your work table. You start to fiddle with a new lightweight shoulder pauldron you're currently designing. You can feel yourself going into 'shut-out' mode, trying your hardest to focus all your attention on the metal in your hands. This was all too much. This was all wrong.

When you hear footsteps behind you, entering the study, you ignore it. Tony quietly traverses the floor, coming to pull up a chair on the other side of the work table. He silently watches you working the wires into place. You don't look up. You don't have to see his expression to know the contemplative expression undoubtably painted on his face. You also don't have to look at him to know he's pondering more than just your work.

"You know, aluminum-titantium alloy won't hold up after a few heavy hits," Tony comments, nodding to the armor piece.

"I'm gonna chromatize it," you reply dryly, not looking up from your hands.

"I wouldn't bother. You can't just give everything a shiny coat to hold it together. If the problem is underneath, that is."

Fuck Tony and his fucking metaphors.

You growl angrily, throwing the pauldron down in frustration. You sit back in your seat and cross your arms, finally meeting your friend's eyes.

"Ok, fine," you say matter-of-factly. "Let's talk about it. It was good. It was really fucking good. And we both needed it. But that's it. I'm willing to leave it at that and forget about it if you are."

Tony rubs his beard in his palm, seemingly mulling over your words. His brown eyes don't leave yours. The warm sunlight coming in through the window behind him paints yellow patches on his bare shoulders, bathing him in gold. You take a mental picture of him, sitting there in his thoughts. A brief, intrusive thought passes through your mind, threatening that this could be the last time you see him. You immediately banish the notion. This friendship means too much to you. Not even a fuck-up as big as this one could make you want to toss it away. You hope Tony agrees.

"Help me understand where your head's at, Y/N," Tony finally replies. "What is your biggest concern right now? Wait, listen, I know there's a lot of reasons why last night was bad. But I want to know what you're thinking."

You sigh, uncrossing your arms. As much as Tony's 'list-and-analyze' reaction to crisis could be annoying, in some ways, it comforted you. Tony is impulsive, yes, but those who know him best also know his calculative nature: the mental risk assessments, the contingency plans labelled through Z. Always searching for the route that will hurt everyone the least. Always.

You consider his question carefully. Again, there's a million answers: the risk of ruining your friendship, the potential awkwardness, Pepper -- oh, god, Pepper --, the pain and grief you've both been through in the past few years. You close your eyes and pick one.

"You're one of the only people left that I trust. One of my only friends. Complexity doesn't often end well."

"You're right," Tony admits. "But aren't you the one who asked, 'is it wrong to not want to be alone'?"

You scoff loudly, angered by his using your words against you. However, that bitterness melts away into nothing when you see the heart-wrenching expression on Tony's face. His lips are pursed, and his eyes are searching yours desperately. Tony rarely shows outward weakness, but right now, the man before you isn't Iron Man. The man before you is broken. Someone who has tried everything to hold it -- his sanity, his relationship, his life -- together, to save the people he loves, to be strong. Someone who failed at that. Someone who truly felt alone.

You rest your chin in your palms and sigh, the weight falling over you as well.

Finally, you speak.

"Isn't it awful -- and strange -- how it can feel like a lifetime ago and just yesterday at the exact same time?"

Tony nods sadly at your observation. Of course, you were talking about the snap. About Thanos.

"You're right. About everything," he remarks. "Sometimes, it just gets too much. The...”

Loneliness. You finish his sentence in your head.

“Me too.”

“You should know though,” Tony continues. “I would never stop being your friend. No matter how complex things are. This — what we’ve been through — could never change, Y/N.”

There it is.

Some situations feel like you're running in circles; you're spiraling downwards and everything you say only makes matters worse and worse. It feels like sinking in quicksand with no way out. In every one of those situations, there's a key -- that one sentence, that one idea, that effortlessly clears the fog. This was it. Tony is going to be here, always. Everything is going to be alright.

You straighten up a bit in your seat. You let out a long sigh and give Tony a small smile.

"I know," you assure your friend. "Sometimes I forget everything that's happened. How complicated it's been before. How we made it out."

Tony laughs, and you're relived.

"How could you forget? It's been a wild ride."

The two of you grin at each other. You take a sip of your orange juice, which you had forgotten about and was now lukewarm.

"OK, happy?" you inquire with a playful tone. "Base material fixed. No need for shiny coats of anything. We're solid now."

Tony lets out a hearty chuckle at the stupid analogy. Suddenly, he stands, circling the work table until he's right in front of you. You suck in a breath of oxygen. From your seated position, your head only comes up to his abs. Bare abs, that is. You tilt your face upwards to meet his eyes.

"Y/N," he says gently. “Stand up.”

Confused, you rise to your feet. Before you can open your mouth to say anything else, Tony’s lean and muscular arms are wrapped around you. He pulls you into his chest, embracing you in his warmth. His grip is firm, as if he’s afraid you might run away. You soften into the hug, wrapping your arms around his back. You feel safe.

After a few moments, Tony releases you. However, he doesn’t move away, and the two of you are still nearly chest-to-chest. You peer up at him, and your friend’s warm toffee eyes meet yours.

“Wow, a Tony Stark hug?” you remark sarcastically. “I should play the lotto today.”

Tony chuckles under his breath. Despite your joking, it was true that Tony rarely gives hugs. He just isn’t the touchy-feely type — according to himself. Somehow this gesture, right now, meant everything. A hug was the most intimate thing Tony could have given you. It was a seal, a mark saying ‘I meant every word I just said.’

Tony is still standing directly in front of you, so close there’s only a magazine’s width between you. He’s so near that you can feel the warmth of his steady breathing, and the slight radiating heat from the arc reactor in his chest. Suddenly, you feel that familiar tug in your stomach. A rush of blood downwards...

“Tony-“

“Do you want me?” Tony cuts you off. His voice is low, gentle.

You suck in a breath of air at his words. Despite his directness, there's a detectable edge of nervousness in his tone. You smile internally at knowing you have this effect on Mr. Playboy. The slight uncertainty in Tony's voice also tells you that it's true: this is different. Last night was not just a mindless fuck. This is an understanding, wrapped around a mutual care that runs so deep that it burns.

You don’t even try to convince yourself that you don’t want Tony. Every ounce of your being is screaming to close the gap between you. You can still hear the scientist-logic-brain in you resisting, but your heart feels at ease. You and Tony. A concept that felt like the forbidden fruit itself just ten minutes ago now looked more like an oasis. And oasis that was maybe alright to take a drink from every once in a while.

You snake one hand upward to hold his cheek. Tony pushes gently into your palm.

It's you who leans in first. When your lips collide, it's soft. He presses himself into you, a delicate sigh escaping. You pull back just enough to whisper a breathy "I want you."

And oh, god do you want him.

“Then, have me,” Tony whispers back, gently.

You nearly visibly shiver. Any trace of hesitation is gone from his voice now. His words are demanding, but his tone is more of a plea.

“Do you want to go the bedroom?”

“No,” Tony replies immediately. He’s breathless. “Right here.”

You immediately feel wetness drop into your panties. Tony’s eyes have grow darker, as they bear down at you. The intensity makes your legs feel weak. You need him. He needs you.

In a moment of boldness, you bring your hands down to the hemline of your shirt. You lift the garment up and over your head, placing it on the work table beside you. Tony’s eyes wander to your red sports bra and your now-stiffened nipples showing through the sleek fabric.

In the next breath, Tony is suddenly kissing you again, his lips against yours in a desperate hunger. He brings his large, roughly calloused hands to your waist. He firmly grips your body, making you feel tiny in his hold. You let a small moan escape your lips.

Still holding you in his grasp, Tony starts to walk you backwards until your backside is pressed against the edge of your large work table. Tony’s hips press forward into you, making you gasp with excitement. You fingertips tangle in his hair, just wanting more and more and more...

In an effortless movement, Tony lifts your sports bra over your head. He throws the red fabric to the side, neither of you caring where it lands. Tony breaks away from your lips, starting to kiss down your cheek, jaw, and then finally giving attention to the delicate skin on your neck. Again, he’s careful not to nip or suck too hard to leave marks. The light scratching of his facial hair contrasts with the soft wetness of Tony’s lips, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

He continues to attend to your neck and jaw as one of his jean-clad thighs moves to fall between your legs. You let out a deep groan as Tony begins to rub and and roll his knee forward, stimulating your clothed core. His movements are like a wave, every forward crest bringing you a tiny bit of that friction your body wants so, so much. You’re in awe of the control Tony has over his movements and the effortless pleasure he’s capable of giving. You can’t help but find his experience and expertise sexy.

“Y/N,” Tony breathes against your neck. “Say it again. Please. Say you want me.”

It occurs to you that, aside from last night, Tony hasn’t felt wanted in a long time. Like, truly wanted. A pang of sadness fills your heart.

“Tony. I want you,” you declare, making sure the conviction in your voice shines through. You don’t have to try. You desire him more than anything right now. “I want you. I want this.”

With your words, Tony moans deeply into your jawline and begins to move his leg between yours more vigorously. Your fingertips trace over his bare back muscles. You trail your hands upward, into the nape of his neck, massaging his scalp. Everything about his beautiful form fits perfectly in your hands.

Tony continues moving downwards, soon finding your right nipple in his mouth. You arch your back, letting a loud moan escape your lips. He works your nipple expertly, rolling it and playing at it with his tongue. He alternates to your other nipple, his thumb replacing where his mouth just left. He lightly strokes the hard, spit-slick bud, and the combination of coolness and friction is heaven.

Tony stands back up, and a second later, his hands are at the elastic band of your running shorts. His eyes meet yours for a moment, silently asking for your permission. You nod a bit too eagerly, and Tony cracks a small, teasing smile. You scoff and lightly slap his shoulder, returning the smile.

Tony pulls your shorts down in one swift motion, leaving you in just your underwear. Next thing you know, Tony’s arms are around your waist. You let out a soft, surprised squeal as he lifts you effortlessly to sit on the edge of the work table behind you. Slightly elevated now, you come to about the same height as Tony.

“Hey,” you protest playfully. “Be careful. There’s important stuff here.”

Tony reaches behind you to clear the area, moving your half-finished projects and parts to the side.

“My apologies, Ms. Y/L/N,” he replies with a huge grin. “Got a bit carried away.”

You pull him into another deep kiss. He growls with pleasure when you nip at his bottom lip. Tony is now standing between your knees, his torso pressing gently into your panty-covered pussy. You can feel his erection through his jeans, straining against his clothes. After seeing Tony’s length for the first time last night, the mental image of his cock — just a few millimeters away from your core — is enough to make you drool. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him in harder against you. He moans into your mouth, and you feel the vibrations as your tongues tangle together.

You feel Tony’s body leaning forward, slowly coaxing you to lay down on the table. Now fully on your back, Tony’s above you, taking in the sight of your body.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most magnificent creature on Earth?”

“No,” you reply with a smirk. “But now, knowing how many other planets are out there in the galaxy, just being Miss Earth doesn’t seem like a huge deal.”

Tony laughs, smiling with his teeth. You find the crinkles that form on the outer corners of his eyes utterly endearing.

“Well, you’re still one out of four-and-three-quarters billion,” he jests back. “Not too shabby. It’s all about the little victories.”

You giggle. The pleasant thought passes through your mind that despite the current situation, everything does feel strangely normal. Tony is still Tony; you’re still you. The banter between you and your friend is still comfortable and easy. Your relationship, although maybe morphing into something more nuanced, remains unmoved.

You’re so caught up in your inner thoughts, that you don’t register Tony kneeling to the ground between your legs. You gasp when you feel his warm mouth over your still-clothed pussy. The combined wetness of his mouth and your core easily soaks through the fabric of your panties, making it cling to your skin. Tony runs his tongue over your folds, through the saturated cloth. You groan with pleasure, the small of your back arching off of the table. You grip Tony’s dark hair, needing something to hold onto.

The sensation of Tony’s lips and tongue through your thin panties is completely unique, and fuck, does it drive you wild.

After a few minutes, Tony’s hands reach up to hook in the waist of your panties. He removes your final garment, leaving you fully bare. His mouth immediately returns to your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, before running downwards through your lips, and then back up again. He alternates this pattern with gentle sucks on your clit.

“Oh, Tony. Shit,” you manage to call out. “That feels so good.”

He hums hungrily into you, pleasuring you to a level that no previous lovers have ever come close to. Tony’s large, rough hands wander upwards. One palm gentle grips your breast, while the other comes under your waist to hold the small of your back.

You raise your head slightly to glance down at Tony. The sight is pornographic. His face is buried in your cunt, head bobbing. The shape of his shoulder muscles, and his strong back. His tan skin, all bathed in golden sunlight.

Pleasuring you. On his knees.

It’s like a painting. Beautiful and erotic.

“Tony. I need you,” you gasp out, suddenly overcome with neediness. “Inside me. Fuck, I want you.”

Those magic words, again. I want you. The effect they have on Tony is instantaneous. Without hesitation, Tony is on his feet. He swiftly unbuttons his jeans and pulls down the zipper. His pants fall down to his ankles where he kicks them off. To your surprise his naked cock springs free. A glistening pearl of precum is formed at the tip.

“Wow, commando, huh?” you tease, gently biting at your bottom lip. “You were so confident you were going to get lucky again today?”

“Of course not. I just like to let it breath sometimes,” Tony remarks. “You wouldn’t get it. It’s a man thing.”

You scoff and roll your eyes sarcastically. Lovable idiot.

“Top drawer?” Tony asks, referring to the location of the condoms.

“On the left.”

Tony hurries out of the room and returns a second later with a condom from your bedroom. Stepping closer between your knees, he gives his cock a few pumps in his fist. You can feel your heart quickening with anticipation. Your pussy is nearly pulsing, needing to be stretched and filled.

Tony rips open the shiny wrapper and rolls the condom down onto his length. You scoot slightly closer to the edge of the table as his hands travel to grip your thighs. You moan deeply as Tony rubs the head of his cock over your slit, spreading your moisture.

“Are you ready?” Tony asks, eyes dark with desire.

“Mmhmm,” you hum. “Make me feel good.”

With that, Tony starts slowly pushing into your dripping pussy. You groan as your walls accommodate to his girth. It’s amazing that you took him just last night, and he’s already capable of stretching you like this again. Tony throws his head back, hissing in pleasure as he bottoms out, his pubic mound flush against yours.

He starts pumping gently. The way Tony’s hips roll forward in fluid motions makes you want to scream with pleasure. His hands are gripping your thighs tightly, fingertips digging into the soft flesh.

Tony’s pace quickens, and soon the room is filled with sounds of wetness, skin slipping on skin, and the moans leaving both your throats. One of Tony’s hands moves to your pussy. His thumb rubs tight circles on your clit making you see stars behind your eyes. The extra stimulation almost immediately starts tightening the orgasmic coil in your stomach. Tony seems to know the exact speed to move his cock and thumb to turn you into a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Oh, more,” you groan, your pleasure growing. “Tony Stark. Yes, oh, please.”

“Come for me, Y/N,” Tony growls almost primally. “Wanna feel you squeezing around my cock.”

Tony’s filthy demands go straight to your pussy. You love the feeling of being under him, sprawled out on the table, completely naked for him to fuck. And the dirty talk is the cherry on top.

The pleasure in your abdomen continues to rise until you’re on the edge of ecstasy. With one last thrust, your orgasm washes over you. You scream Tony’s name into the room, not caring who hears. Pulses of pleasure rip through your entire body, even making your feet tingle. When you come down, the convulsions slowing, your head feels fuzzy and bubbly.

Not even a moment later, you feel Tony lifting your legs higher. Still inside you, he straightens them, bringing your ankles to rest on his shoulders. The new sensation is instantly nirvana. He starts pumping into you, and the head of his cock rubs your G-spot on every thrust. Penetrative sex had never felt this good for you.

“You feel so fucking amazing, Y/N,” Tony manages to says between moans. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

The feeling of your pussy being pounded in this angle has your eyes rolling back into your skull. All your thoughts seem to leave your head. The only thing you can focus on is the immense pleasure. The sound of Tony’s balls slapping against you wetly with every stroke combined with his desperate moans fill your ears.

Tony’s thrusts start to become more jagged, needy. His moans slowly transform more into whimpers as he continues to fuck into you. Suddenly, Tony comes with a series of loud groans, his eyes shut tight. You feel his dick pulsating inside you as he orgasms. He thrusts a few more times, riding out the last waves.

He gently slides out of you, his hands coming down the tabletop next to your waist to steady himself. Both of you are breathing heavily, your bodies radiating with the afterglow of pleasure.

Silently, Tony helps you to stand before sweeping you up easily in his arms. You lean into his chest as he carries you to the bedroom. Tony lays you down carefully on the cool mattress before hurrying to the bathroom. He returns a moment later with a warm washcloth.

After cleaning yourselves up, Tony crawls into the refreshing sheets beside you. He slips one arm under your neck, and you cuddle in closer to his body. The warmth and smoothness of his skin is so, so welcoming. In the strangest way, it feels natural.

“I didn’t think it was possible to top last night,” you finally say, chuckling.

“Me neither,” Tony replies. “I guess we just have good chemistry.”

“Who would’ve thought?” You laugh and drape an arm over his chest. “Hey, question.”

“Ask away.”

“Why did you cook all that stuff earlier? Like the eggs, toast, the whole nine yards. It was sort of...”

“Out of character?” Tony finishes your sentence.

You nod. Tony takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly.

“Honestly, when I woke up, and you were gone, I was freaking out a little bit. I wanted to talk about last night, but you weren’t there, and I just didn’t know what you were thinking. If you were having serious regrets, or if you were angry, or upset with me. Or if you were thinking our whole friendship was burned to the ground.

“I just needed to do something. Anything. Busy my hands, distract my mind. Sorry that I kind of raided your kitchen.”

You turn to peer up at him, letting out a soft laugh. His chocolate eyes meet yours, and you give him a kind smile, endeared by his typical, hyper ramblings.

“I’m sorry I left,” you start. “I was freaking out a little, too. I guess that’s always been a difference between us. I always try to run from the unknown, while you just want to plow straight through it.”

Tony smiles warmly and blinks his gorgeous, thick black eyelashes at you.

“It’s why we make a good pair. Balance. Yin and yang. Ya’ know.”

You both chuckle, content in one another’s arms. You open your mouth to reply, but you’re cut off by a loud growl from your stomach. Tony bursts into laughter.

“Your fault for barely touching breakfast,” Tony remarks playfully. “Which — not to toot my own horn — was quite artfully made.”

“I guess I could settle for a bowl of lowly cereal as punishment,” you reply with mock sadness.

Tony chuckles and shakes his head. He starts to rise from the bed, then offers his hand for you to follow.

“C’mon, I’ll make you some more eggs.”

#tony x reader #tony x fem!reader #avengers imagines #avengers fic #avengers smut #tony stark #smut #tony stark smut #marvel fics #iron man #iron man smut #iron man fic #dom!tony #soft!tony #friends to lovers #tony stark fluff #fanfic

[tonesplash]

its thanksgiving get nasty (18+)

pairing: edward cullen x reader

summary: you get bored at thanksgiving dinner. unfortunately for edward you wore sandals

warnings: smut,brief footjob, thanksgiving dinner, edward kind of chokes on corn, reader doesn’t like their family, mild injury, fingering, innappropriate use of vampire speed, technically exhibitionism and public sex?? bad dirty talk, and cousin-shaming, reader is afab and might be described as female im not sure

a/n: i wrote this in 24 hours so any sloppiness is not my fault

masterlist

(c/n)= cousins name

When you told him thanksgiving with your family would be boring, you’d meant it’d be for him, looking forward to his reaction to being on the receiving end of your bloodlines ridiculousness while you’d get dinner and a show. But, as it turns out, your family just so happens to get along with Edward much better than they do with you.

The seating situation is a little unconventional, since because your boyfriend-snatching cousin stole the open seat next to Edward before you even made it back from the bathroom, leaving your only viable option directly opposite of him. On the bright side, you had the option of kicking his leg when he’d said something to embarrass you.

 Bless his soul, he’d done his best to bring you into the conversation but apparently, anything you had to say about your relationship had been relayed verbatim to the family group chat you weren't even in by your mother. So, after the third time you’re talked over by the aforementioned horny cousin or some other nosy relative on you’re bored out of your mind.

Everyone had gotten over your piss poor table manners years ago, or were just completely ignoring you at this point because there were no protests when they’d brought the turkey out and you’d stayed slumped low in your seat like a child in church.

Twitter had stopped refreshing ten minutes ago, and when you finally resigned yourself to tuning back into the conversation, your mother was showing Edward your baby pictures again. Idly swinging one bare foot under the table, your bare toe grazes the drape of his dress slacks under the table when you get an idea.

 You’d lost a sandal earlier after Edward had pinned it under his shoe in a vain attempt to stop your pinching and dirtying of his slacks with your filthy soles. You scoot a little further forward in your seat to reach out and press your arch flat against his shin.

Edward doesn’t visibly react, just shifts his leg away, leaving yours to slip to the floor until you reach up again to plant your heel on the seat of the chair. The conversation lulls for a moment as everyone says grace, and he uses the opportunity to grab your ankle and send you a warning glare over the top of your phone.

You meet his gaze and boorishly eat a spoon of mashed potatoes, shrugging as if he couldn’t read in your mind exactly what you were about to do. 

Your cousin asks about his mom car again and when you roll your eyes Edward flicks the outside of your fibula, sure to bruise, and you crinkle your nose, pinching his marble thigh between your toes as best you can through the material.

“Well my father thought it was necessary for my siblings and I to-” 

While he talks, he's soothing the spot he flicked, playing in the stubble leftover from your shoddy shave job this morning, and the absent affection gives you the final motivation to further push your luck. You tease the seam of his left leg with the very tips of your toes, coaxing the unnatural heat of the venom to build in the crotch of his pants, the coolness of the rest of him making it seem even hotter in comparison.

He inhales on a forkful of corn, almost taking it down the wrong pipe, and you fight a smile around the bowl of the spoon as he flawlessly recovers and finishes the thought. You idly wonder if you could be that smooth someday. For now, you press further, pressing a toe against the seam over his cock, stroking up and down as slowly and consistently as you can while stretched under a table because who would’ve thought that footjobs are kind of an athletic feat. 

Edward taps insistently at your leg, harder than he normally would, and you have to hold back a laugh at the idea of him splitting the table because he can’t take a little footsie action. You press forward again, arch encompassing his hardness through the fabric, toes curling against his pubic bone when-

“Ho-oly shit!” Searing pain shoots up from your ankle, and you double over, using everything in you not to shout, Edwards dawning mortification going unnoticed as everyone at the table turns to you at your unexpected outburst.  

“(Y/n)?” Your mother doesn’t seem that happy to have dinner interrupted, and you clutch your stomach as a quick cover.

“Uh, my bad.” You snicker nervously at the sudden attention, bravado gone. Your face feels red-hot. “I actually need to use the bathroom, I think,” you lick your lips and slide out of your chair. “Lady problems.”

The table erupts in a cacophony of gags and groans as the notion of a menstrual cycle is brought up in casual conversation, and it gives you the perfect cover to retreat to the upstairs bathroom. It takes you a minute to make it up the stairs without causing a scene, and just as soon as you close and lock the door behind you and settle down to weep in peace, he’s there, jiggling the doorknob like it’s a drug bust.

“Let me in.”

You’re apparently taking too long because as soon as your injured foot touches the floor, he forces the lock and slips in, shutting the door a little too fast to pass as human. 

“Jesus! Edward, are you trying to lose our deposit?” You lean around him to check for a handprint but he doesn’t respond, wordlessly setting you up on the counter, kneeling to examine your injured ankle, cool fingers soothing to the sore skin. You sit in silence, idly swinging your other leg to distract yourself.

“How'd you make it out?” You can't imagine they’d let the guest of honor go so easily.

“You forgot your bag, I told them I’d just bringing it up to you.” He places your bag next to you as evidence. “Maybe you should start carrying menstrual products for when you actually need them.”

Of course, he breaks your foot and wants to lecture you on responsible uterus care. Edward sighs, taking your foot with the gentlest touch and whispering a kiss into the skin. “It’s only a sprain, but I’m still sorry.” 

“S’Okay.” Your face burns, not expecting his guilt. “Serves me right, huh?” You titter, poking his side with your uninjured foot. He swipes it up before you can start again, halfheartedly laughing with you. 

“Let me wrap it before you get any more ideas.” You hand him the compression wrap from the medicine cabinet, and he gets to work. The wince you give at the pressure is more reflex than anything, but the anxious expression on his face tells you he wasn't going to let this go easily. 

“Y’know…” You poke at him again. The playful contempt in his golden eyes gives you the go-ahead to make your case. “If you’re really feeling torn up about it, seeing you wow my family like that got me a little riled up.”

“Really.” Edward kisses the secured wrapping and releases you, standing to frame you against the counter.

“I’m serious, impressing them isn’t easy, (C/n) is probably shaving in the guest room to steal you from me right now, just thinking about it has got me a little hot under the collar.” You run your hands over his back and through his hair, nuzzling into the crook of his throat.

“You’re laying it on pretty thick, don’t you think?” His hands smooth over your exposed thighs sending a shiver up your spine. You think you've got him, but he's such a tease sometimes you can never really be sure.

“Depends. Is it working?” You still, bracing for some line about ‘responsibility’ and ‘your family waiting for you.’

But then his hands are under your skirt, hooking into the sides of your underwear and pulling them down your thighs, leaving them to free-fall to your feet. You clutch his auburn hair in your fingers at the shock of open-air against your cunt.

“Do you think I could let you go back to that table smelling like this?” His sweet breath washes against your ear as he huffs a soft laugh. “I’d rather not go downstairs and pretend to care about football when I know you’re here, hot and ready for me.”

You can’t resist him any longer, pulling him close and kissing him with the desperation of a woman who needs to be back downstairs before dessert. His thumb teases over your cunt at first, swirling over your swelling clit and teasing your hole before he finds a focus, using the thumb of his free hand to hold your hood back as his slicked fingers grind the bud into a frenzy while he sucks your tongue into his mouth.

It’s all you can do to hold your breath while he touches you, cool fingers building a knot in your belly, smooth and steady as they batter you up into a frenzy. He adjusts his hand, his ring finger pressing into you and bringing a low ache from rushed preparation, but you welcome it, thighs shaking with the effort to stay open for him as your mouth falls open in a shaky gasp. Edward breaks the kiss to let you breathe , seemingly unbothered until- 

“(C/n) is coming.” 

“Wha-” A particularly deep stroke has you biting your lip as you struggle to concentrate. “What the fuck does she want?”

“She’s going to ask you where I am.” His expression doesn’t match his words, still completely concentrated on ruining you despite the obvious issue.

“And what am I supposed to tell her?!” You hiss back right as she reaches the door. His mouth closes over your pulse point and you don't think you've clenched that hard before in your life.

“Hey (Y/n)? Have you seen Edward?” Her voice is enough of a mood killer that you have to shove your face into his throat to ground yourself in the moment. He adds a second finger, gaining speed, and you pray and hope to any god listening to this that she can't hear the squelches through the door.

“N-no.” You rack your mind for an excuse. His scent is making it harder to concentrate. “I think he went out for a smoke?” Nice one.

“Really? I didn't smell anything on him...” If all your blood flow hadn't been centralized below the waist at this point you'd’ve asked how the hell she knows what he smells like. He's fully abandoned your clit now, leaving it to pulse in the open air while three of his fingers push and pull at your pelvic floor.

“That's cause he unh-” You slap a hand over your mouth to stop the moan before it can be recognized for what it is.“-he vapes!” Edward pulls back from your throat to look at you incredulously, but it's a little hard to be ashamed when he's nearly wrist deep inside you.

“Oh… Well, let him know if you see him that they’re playing charades and I need a partner. You know how it is.”

You forget to reply, too enthralled watching him spit onto his unoccupied fingers and mash the coolness against your clit, causing you to nearly spasm off the counter, losing the sensation as he silently laughs at having to hold you steady. She seemed to have taken your silence as an admission, as you can hear the door at the stoop of the stairs swinging shut after her. Thank God.

“Rub your spot, Sweet, come on, we have to be quick.” He kisses your temple and laughs a bit maniacally at the little whimper that escapes when you bring a hand down to your clit. “Surprisingly, she’s having trouble picturing me in a vape shop.”

You whine around a bitten lip, too far gone to listen to his ribbing. You’re building up to overstimulation with the sloppy way you’re rubbing yourself, and he must feel it too, because in the next second, his fingers are vibrating.

“Come on, (Y/n), don't you want to finish up here and mop the floor with them?” You hadn’t even realized how hazy your vision had gotten until he grabs your chin and levels your lidded eyes with his and says your name again. You nod sluggishly for him, not hearing a word. He laughs again, smiles wide. His teeth are pretty. 

“If you cum right now;” The buzzing grows stronger, your free arm spasming under you as you support yourself. “I’ll rub you raw after on the ride home. You just need to come right now and win charades with me.” 

The buzzing inside grows too strong, and your vision goes white, pulsing in long pulls around his fingers as hot waves of sensation spread from your head to your toes.

Edward kisses you, soft and slow, swallowing any whimpers tempted to escape as you come down, abandoning the counter to clutch his sleeve as the twitching reduces to a tremor.

“Oh my god.“ You laugh, planting your face into his collar as you catch your breath. “I can't believe you used charades to make me come, I'm never gonna forgive you.” 

“I heard the top prize is a ten dollar gift card to…” He squints and checks again. “The Google Play Store.”

“Ew, what could you even do with tha-”

“(Y/N) come help with plates!” Your mother shouts up the stairwell, totally fucking up any release you just had.

“I guess I should run down to the corner store;” Edward smiles, helping you to stand on wobbly legs and smoothing your skirt down. “Don't want to blow your cover.” 

“(Y/N)! Plates!”

“Oh my god;” Your eyes may never return from the back of your skull. “Meet you downstairs?”

He kisses you sweetly one last time, pulling you close and wiping the sheen of sweat off of your face.

“Downstairs.”

With that, he heaves himself out of the narrow sill, and you busy yourself cleaning up as fast as you can.

You just catch him hopping off the roof, and coming around to the front yard. He'll hear you no matter the volume, but you still shout the warning;

“Stay away from my cousin!” 

#edward cullen x reader #edward cullen imagine #edward cullen #Twilight FanFic #twilight smut #twilight imagines #twilight x reader #twilight x you #the twilight saga #reader insert smut #reader insert fluff #reader #thanksgiving #dinner with parents

[reidingmelodies]

The Luckiest

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: Fluff Word Count: 2k Includes: Dad Spencer, Children, Pregnancy A/N:  I wrote this one for @anxiousblanketqueen’s birthday challenge: Happy Birthday, Jill! ♡ I hope you have an absolutely amazing day!! Main Masterlist

“What’s this, Daddy?” Spencer turned, eyes finding his daughter holding the scrapbook Penelope made for your anniversary a few months prior.  The book held your most cherished memories: from your first meeting to your first dates, to your marriage and the birth of your children.

“Auntie P made that for us, bug,” he explained, bending down to clear the pile of blocks on the floor to make way for her little feet.  She bounded towards him, the book dangling from her arms while she climbed next to him on the couch.

Big brown eyes similar to his own looked up at him, her little lip sticking out in a pout as she pushed the book towards him in a silent question.

She was only five, but she was fully aware that he was incapable of saying no to her; after all, she learned the puppy dog pout from its creator: his wife.

“Come here, love,” he situated his daughter on his lap, laying a gentle kiss on her hairline before opening the book to the first page.

“Is that Mommy?” her fingers moved to trace along the first photo, a still of you and Spencer at Derek and Penelope’s wedding seven years prior. Your eyes were focused off frame, gaze solely fixated on the couple’s first dance, but Spencer’s were glued to your every move.

It was your very first meeting, years of Penelope trying to set Spencer up with her high school best friend had failed up until that point.  Plans to go to bars were halted by last minute cases in different cities, parties in Penelope’s apartment were missed because you had a date lined up, lunch dates with Penelope where she hoped you would finally meet Spencer were ruined because he wouldn’t leave his desk.

Years and years of trying to get you two to meet, and all it took was her and Derek getting married.

If she knew it would have been that easy, she would have gotten hitched years ago.

As luck would have it, you and Spencer had somehow narrowly avoided each other during wedding planning as well.  It was as though the universe had something against you, as if all the signs were screaming that you weren’t meant to be.  But then, on the night the stars aligned for Derek and Penelope the same happened for you, your pre-planned seating arrangement leading you directly into Spencer’s arms and proving the universe wrong.

It was that night that two perfect strangers became stakeholders in one another’s lives, the night when two hearts found the piece that had been missing for too long.  Neither of you knew it then, but a few shared conversations and lingering glances over dinner were enough to change your lives.

“Yeah,” Spencer whispered, smiling at your daughter.  “That’s Mommy”.

And like their words summoned your presence, the front door opened and you walked in, your two year old son’s hand gripped around two of your fingers while your purse hung from your free arm.

“Mommy!” your daughter jumped from her position on Spencer’s lap to wrap her arms around your legs, your body bending to place a series of kisses against her head.

“Hi, Sweet Pea!  Did you have a good time with Daddy?”

“Mm-hmm!” you watched her pigtails bounce as she twirled, her hand moving to hold her brother’s as she walked him towards a tower in the center of the room.  “We played with blocks and read books and looked at a pretty picture of you!”

“Wow!  What picture was it?” but alas, your question fell short on your daughter’s ears, her attention long gone and instead focused on teaching her brother the right way to build a tower.

And honestly, as far as you were concerned that was perfectly okay.  Any moment they were getting along without tears or screams was a win in your book.

“We were looking at the album Penelope made us,” Spencer’s voice carried over the sound of your children’s giggles and you swiftly moved to sit next to him on the couch, thigh to thigh while your head rested against his shoulder.  “We made it through the first picture before you guys came home”.

You placed a gentle kiss against his shoulder where you laid, eyes scanning the photo in question. It was one of your favorite nights, but it paled in comparison to the picture on the next page.

“Remember that night?” you asked, pointing at the photo you had been eyeing.  It was a blurry mess to put it lightly, Spencer’s hand holding the disposable camera at an odd angle while you attacked his cheeks with kisses until a trail of lipstick was left in your wake.

You were young, in love, and inseparable- a blurry photo was a small price to pay for being with him.

“How could I forget,” Spencer chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he examined the picture, “I got off the jet at 11 PM and headed to your place for a midnight picnic.  We were only dating for three weeks and JJ thought it was weird to go to your place so late, but I didn’t care.  Did you think it was weird?”

You snuggled closer to him, the hitch at the end of his question cluing you into the fact that he was nervous you did.  “If you didn’t come over I most certainly would have went to your place- I hated being away from you, I still do now”.

You were rewarded with a kiss to your palm before Spencer continued to flip through the pages in a comfortable silence, your life together thus far being pieced together with every new picture.

From movie nights cuddled up on the floor of Derek and Penelope’s living room, to office holiday parties where you walked around with your pinkies intertwined, to stolen kisses at happy hour and café dates where you both sported espresso foam mustaches.

With the next flip of the page, you watched as your smiles grew wider in each photo with the addition of a ring on your left hand.  There were pictures of Spencer down on one knee at your favorite park thanks to Penelope’s hidden vantage point behind a set of trees a few feet away.

The sky was a cerulean blue, yellow and pink tulips in full bloom at your feet, but in that moment, with Spencer kneeling in front of you and the most beautiful declarations of love falling from his lips nothing was visible but him.  

Another flip of a page and yet another moment when nothing mattered but Spencer was on full display- your wedding day.  His arms were looped around your waist as you danced in front of your family and friends, your smiles the widest they’d ever been.  The night was filled with love filled glances and silent assertions of love fit for two in a room bursting with joy, each and every one caught on camera thanks to Penelope’s dedication to capturing one of her favorite love stories in action.

A series of selfies followed in the next few pages, each one a picture you had sent Penelope during your honeymoon as proof you weren’t always locked away in your hotel room. Spencer was sporting a sunglasses tan in each photo while you were sporting a smirk, each picture reminding you of the vacation that gave you one of your favorite gifts yet nine months later: your daughter.

You looked up from the album to glance in her direction, your lips curling into a smile as you watched her separate the blocks into color coded piles much to her younger brother’s amusement. With each passing day she reminded you more and more of Spencer, and it was by far one of your favorite journeys to witness.

Your focus shifted back to the book in Spencer’s hands, weekly progress photos of your stomach’s growth (which Spencer was determined to capture in all its glory) gracing the pages along with ultrasounds, memories from your baby shower, and pictures of Spencer’s hands constantly flitting over your lower belly. His head rested gently on your middle in each one, his face the picture of happiness as he whispered bedtime stories and facts about space, completely oblivious to everything but you and your daughter.

You watched as the baby you had spent months dreaming about came to life in pictures, her features the perfect mixture of you and Spencer from the moment she was placed in your hands. With each passing picture the bags under both of your eyes grew bigger, but your smiles grew wider.  Images of her firsts graced the pages: the first time she sat up, the first time she ate solid foods, the first time she said dada (and the tears in Spencer’s eyes when he heard it), her first steps, her first day of school.  

And then one made way for two, your son joining the midst of photos and bringing an endless amount of love and joy to your family.  Much like your daughter, he reminded you of Spencer: he was inquisitive- curious eyes always studying his surroundings, his hand always finding comfort in yours just like his father.  

Pictures of his firsts graced the pages much like your daughter’s, except this time the first time he sat up he was accompanied by a beaming sister, when he said mama for the first time it was you who was in tears, and when he took his first steps he walked straight into Spencer’s open arms.

The book was a picture-perfect testament to your love, one of your most prized possessions, but there was one thing missing.

“I love the life we built together,” Spencer whispered in your direction, his fingers tracing your side as he thought about how lucky he was. How lucky was he that he went from a man destined to live a solitary life to a man with a wonderful wife and two children made from love?

“I love it, too,” you murmured as your hand moved to reach for your purse, “but there’s one thing we’re missing”.

You watched as Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, his eyes scanning the empty pages at the end of the book.  “I know the pictures are a little out of date, we can order some more this weekend to fill the empty pages though”, he stated as his gaze found yours to see if that was the answer you were looking for.

“We definitely can,” you nodded, removing an item from your purse and unsticking the scrapbook pages to place it in the middle.  Once you were satisfied with its placement, you adjusted the top sheet before holding both of Spencer’s hands in yours, “but we can start with this”.

The previously blank page was now the home of your very first ultrasound photo for your third baby, a surprise you had confirmed earlier that morning at your doctor’s appointment.  You watched as Spencer’s eyebrows shot up, his face breaking into a smile while his eyes filled with tears.

“Really?” his voice was so soft, you were sure you would have missed it if you weren’t sitting directly next to him.

“Really, really,” you confirmed, your left hand moving to grasp his jaw as you pulled his face closer to yours.

“Are you excited?” you whispered, fully aware that the answer was yes but craving confirmation.

With your question, a tear escaped his lash line, trailing down his cheek and making its way to a beaming smile that rivaled the ones you had seen in the scrapbook.

He nodded, at a complete loss for words as he closed the gap between you and let his feelings out in a kiss. It was a kiss filled to the brim with love, happiness, and appreciativeness.  

And in that moment, there was only one coherent thought on his mind as he listened to his children’s giggles in the background and felt the weight of your love against his lips: How lucky was he that he went from a man destined to live a solitary life to a man with a wonderful wife and three children made from love?

The luckiest man alive, that was for sure.

***

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[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 8)

a/n: oh my! we have finally reached the end of this story and I never thought it would turn out to be this long but im happy it did! thank you for reading and loving it, and now, enjoy the last part!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4k

warning: just pure fluff

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

��Girl, even if you don’t win, you’ll surely take the title of the hottest woman on the red carpet tonight.”

Florence’s words make you chuckle, but you try not to move your lips too much as the makeup artist finishes up the last touches on them, using a nude shade.

“Stop, my head is big enough already,” you tell her, giving her a look through the mirror. She is standing a few feet behind you, already wearing her beautiful, golden Versace gown that hugs her perfectly. Her hair is up in a neat bun so her back can be on full display and the diamonds in her ears can also shine brightly. She looks amazing while she is the opposite of what you’ll look like tonight.

Rhonda, the makeup artist has an amazing notion about your look when you showed her the gown you’d be wearing tonight and since the dress is not the sparkly kind, like Florence’s, she went a little heavier with the glitter on your eyes, using mostly whitish-silver colors, creating rosy cheeks and topping it with nude, glossy lips. Your hair is in loose curls with a bunch of extension, creating the illusion that you might as well be Rapunzel herself tonight. But you are the most excited about the gown that’s already waiting for you to be finally put on.

“What time is it?” you ask Florence as you don’t have your phone on you, but she has hers in her hands already.

“We still have half an hour before we have to leave. Dude, I can’t believe you are an Oscar nominee and might turn into a winner tonight!” she sighs, eyes shining bright with excitement. She hasn’t come off of this high for days, so over the Moon that you get to walk the red carpet tonight as a nominee.

“Don’t jinx it, Flo,” you warn her.

There’s a knock on the door of the hotel suit you’ve occupied for the glamming and Florence is quick to rush to it answering, but you both know who it is. As she throws the door open Harry comes to your sight, looking  as handsome as ever, wearing his custom made Gucci suit with a pink dress shirt underneath that matches your gown perfectly.

“Florence, you look wonderful!” his british accent fills the room, making you smile. Rhonda sets your makeup with some spray and you’re finally done. Standing up you move your legs around a bit as they went a little numb from all the sitting.

“Thank you! Pink suits you well, Harry,” your friend compliments your man and you watch them smiling.

When Harry’s eyes set on you, the light up, his smile widening from ear to ear. He looks spotless, freshly shaved, his hair recently cut and combed into place for a change. Not that you don’t like it when it’s all tousled and messy, especially when it’s because of your fingers.

“Angel, wow!” he breathes out as he walks up to you, taking your hands in his. You know he wants to kiss you, but doesn’t want to risk messing your lips up, so he is left with admiring you with only his eyes.

“Just wait until you see her in the dress!” Florence chimes in making you chuckle. You kept your dress a secret, wanting to surprise him with the first look. You gave out only the most necessary details for Lambert so the two of you could match.

“You’d be great like this too,” he teases, taking a look at your fluffy robe.

“I’m not going to the Oscars in a robe,” you tell him with a narrow-eyed look.

“I know, I’m just saying that you’d still be stunning,” he mumbles with a boyish smirk.

“Y/N? Time to choose a necklace!” Your stylist, Rupert appears from the room where your gown is hanging. He has a few jewelry boxes in his hands and he sets them all to the coffee table, opening up you are met with four breathtakingly beautiful diamond necklaces, each of them different yet so magical looking, you can’t decide which one you like the most.

“Harry, which one do you like the most?” you ask, kneeling down next to the table, mesmerized by the jewelries in front of you. Harry leans down and inspects them one by one before poking on the last one in the row. It has three rows of diamonds, not too big, the stones in the last row are shaped like water droplets, it’s such an elegant looking piece, it surely caught your eyes as well and you think it would be perfect with the dress.

“This one,” he tells you and you nod, shutting the other boxes, satisfied with the choice.

“Alright, time to get you into the gown, girl,” Rupert winks, gesturing at you to follow him into the room.

“I’ll be right back,” you tell Harry, risking a quick peck on his lips before you disappear in your temporary dressing room.

You fell in love with the gown on the first fitting when Rupert pulled it out, still in the finishing phase. It still has pins in it, but it already took your breath away. It has a massive A-line skirt and a tight upper part that hugs your body perfectly, a row of buttons running down the middle of it. The sleeves are puffy, but then end in a tight run from a little above your wrists, the same set of buttons appearing like on your chest. It’s giving out some Victorian style vibes in a more sophisticated and simpler way, but it’s by far your favorite dress you’ve ever worn to any event.

It surely needs the extra pair of hands from Rupert to put it on, but once you are secured in it, you feel like a princess straight out of a fairytale and surely, your prince is standing on the other side of the double doors.

“Alright! Everyone get ready for the big reveal!” Rupert announces, sneaking out the room so he can open the door for you. He waits a few moments as you hear everyone shuffle around outside, probably lining up to see you walk out in your finished state. “Okay, three! Two! One! Welcome our Oscar nominee!” he cheers, a round of applause is heard before you even appear, but it’s quickly replaced with gasps when Rupert pulls the doors open and they get the first glimpse of you in your gown.

“Holy fuck!” Florence gasps, mouth hanging open as she keeps raking your form up and down. Your eyes find Harry’s gaze and you see him in a state you haven’t often found him in the past almost two years you’ve been dating. He is completely speechless, eyes glued to you in awe as if he just saw an angel in real life.

“Y/N, I—wow,” he breathes out, still at a loss of words.

“You like it?” you ask with a shy smile.

“I fucking love it, baby. You look… You really are an angel,” he tells you, making you chuckle at his words.

“Would you please help me put on the necklace?” you ask him and he nods eagerly, carefully taking the jewelry out of its box and walking behind you, he brings it around your neck, his fingers delicately working on the clasp. Once it’s all set, you step to the floor to ceiling mirror, taking in the final look.

“There won’t be a straight woman left on Earth once you step on the red carpet,” Florence bluntly comments, making everyone in the room laugh.

“Let’s take some photos, I need to immortalize this masterpiece,” Rupert gestures around, already grabbing his camera.

The next ten minutes you take hundreds of photos, alone, with Florence and then with Harry. He still seems a little stunned by your look, feeling shy when he circles his arm around your waist, but it’s cute that you can still have such an effect on him after being together for almost two years.

Florence snaps some with your phone as well, your favorite is when he held your waist and leant you back, making you arch backwards as your noses touched since he couldn’t kiss you. You already know it’ll end up as your lockscreen, replacing the selfie the two of you took on your latest trip to Hawaii.

When it’s time to leave you grab your little purse with your phone and other necessities and the three of you pile up in a minivan, since your dress needs all the space so it doesn’t get wrinkled before you step out to the red carpet.

As you sit in the car and watch the buildings pass by, your nerves start to rise in you. When the nominations came out a month ago it seemed so far, you couldn’t imagine yourself actually attending the Academy Awards, but now here you are, on your way to find out if you’ve been good enough to be the best.

Your role in Sinful Heaven has brought a lot to your life aside from the nomination. The three months of filming was one of the hardest times in your life you’ve ever worked through and at some points, you didn’t even think you’d get through it. Working so closely with Levi took a toll on you while you were trying to prove in such a heavy and serious role. It was a mess especially at the beginning when you and Harry were still in this weird phase, but that eventually turned right when he literally punched Levi in the face and ten minutes later asked you to be his girlfriend. It’s a badass way to start a relationship and you wouldn’t trade it for anything, especially because it put Levi into place or at least scared him enough to get off your back for the rest of the filming.

When Harry left following that visit, you couldn’t see each other until filming wrapped and you flew straight to him and travelled with him for the next two weeks, hopping from one city to the other, watching him perform every other night and spending all your time with him.

When the movie premiered eight months later, you didn’t appear with Harry by your side, Maya was your date for the evening, but by that time everyone knew you and Harry are an official couple. Neither of you felt like hiding it or caring about what others would think and you were able to focus on each other and rely on the strong foundation you’ve built for your relationship.

He was there with you when the nominations came out and probably screamed louder when your name appeared in the list. With tearing eyes and choked out sobs you jumped into his arms as he mumbled into your ear.

“I’m so proud of you, Angel. So, so proud!”

And now you are on your way to the show, only hours away from finding out if your dreams will come true tonight. Harry squeezes your hand and you turn to face him, his soft eyes meeting yours.

“Nervous?” he asks with a small smile.

“Very,” you admit with an airy chuckle.

“Whatever happens tonight, I’m very proud of you. Don’t forget that.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze back.

Since it’s the first time you and Harry appear on the red carpet as a couple, once you set your feet out of the car, everyone goes nuts. He helps you out and even fixes your dress so it falls just perfectly around your frame before he offers his arm. You link your through it, taking a deep breath as the two of you start walking down the carpet, posing for the photographers.

You feel powerful and strong, like it’s the peak of your career, but you also feel that it wouldn’t be the same without Harry by your side even though he is making sure to let you shine tonight. At one point he even steps back for a moment so photographers can snap you alone and you think it’s such a caring move from him.

You feel a little dizzy from all the flashlights by the time you walk into the theater, Harry holding your hand tightly as he leads you to your seats.

You’ve been to plenty award shows and it’s not even your first Academy Awards appearance either, but for obvious reasons, it’s the most important. Sitting in your plush chair, you can barely stop yourself from continuously fidgeting as one category follows the other and it’s still not yours.

Then following a jaw-dropping performance from Dua Lipa, Chris Evans walks out with a golden statue and an envelope in his hands and your heart skips a beat, but not because of the man himself, but because you know he is the presenter of the Best Actress category.

Your hold on Harry’s hand on your lap tightens and you glue your eyes to the big screens behind Chris as he smiles around.

“Good evening. It’s a pleasure to be here and to present the award for Best Actress. The theater tonight is filled with exceptional talents, but let’s see the nominees,” he speaks into the microphone and then he starts listing the names.

Emma Stone, Anne Hathaway, Margot Robbie and Rooney Mara are called and a camera fixates on each of them when Chris says their names, all smiling brightly and waving around before your name is called at the end. Taking a deep breath you plaster your most wonderful smile across your face, waving around like the other nominees did before the big screen splits, showing the five of you simultaneously.

“We’ve seen some spectacular performances from these ladies and now let’s see who proved herself to be the best this year.”

Chris flips the envelope open and pulls the little paper out that has the winner’s name written on it and for a moment you’re convinced you’ll pass out. You’ve never felt this anxious before and you’re gripping Harry’s hand so tightly you’re surprised he hasn’t pulled it back, but he is patiently putting up with your nerves, his eyes glued to the man on the stage as well.

“And the Academy Award for Best Actress goes to…” Chris starts with a charming smile, holding a short pause before he finally says the name. “Y/N Y/L/N for her role as Marie Davidson in Sinful Heaven!”

Your mouth hangs open, ears ringing as you process that your name was called. Everyone around you jumps up, including Harry, who is screaming just like when the nominations came out, while you are completely blank. It takes you a couple of moments to realize that you in fact just won your first Oscar and everyone is waiting for you to go and get your little statue.

“Baby! Baby you won!” Harry cheers as he helps you up from your seat and you throw yourself into his arms as reality sets in. “I fucking love you, Angel. Go and get your Oscar!” he laughs, pride all over his face as he urges you to walk up to the stage.

“Walk me up, please!” you stammer, not trusting yourself with walking in this fragile state. He offers his hand without a second thought, walking you to the stage where Chris is politely waiting for you to help you up on the stairs.

“Thank you,” you breathe out once you’re finally up on the stage, every set of eyes on you as Chris hands you the little statue.

“Congratulations,” he smiles as the two of you exchange two kisses on the cheeks before he steps aside and lets you give a speech.

You thought about writing a few words beforehand, but you figured if you end up being the winner you’d forget the whole thing, so there would be no use and that’s the case. Your mind is still blank as you look down at the award in your hands, the crowd still cheering on you, giving you a few extra moments to figure out what to say.

“I uhh—I don’t even know what to say, this feels like a dream,” you admit talking into the microphone, the clapping dying down so that everyone can hear your words. “I want to thank to everyone who worked on Sinful Heaven, because I wouldn’t be here without them. To my wonderful director and amazing costars, it’s been such a wonderful journey with you all. Thank you to my friends and family who were there with me from the very start, believing in me when I was losing faith in myself, thank you for never giving up on me. To my parents who I assume are now crying in front of the TV,” you add chuckling softly, imagining your mom and dad in tears as they listen to your words. “This is a wonderful sign to me that I am where I need to be and that I’m on the right path, so thank you for giving me even more motivation to keep me going on my way.”

Your eyes roam around all the guests until they fall on one proud man staring at you in his Gucci suit and pink dress shirt, his green eyes looking glossy as he listens to your words.

“And last but not least, thank you to one special person, because I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here tonight without him. I have one thing to tell you.” Forgetting about everyone in the theater you hold up the Oscar in your hand as you finish your speech: “Never have I ever loved someone like I love you.”

The crowd starts cheering again as you step away from the microphone and Chris is quick to jog up to you and help you down the stairs, Harry rushing back to take your hand once Chris lets go of it.

You catch him wipe a tear off his cheek as the two of you walk back to your seats hand in hand. Once you are settled, you take a deep breath and turn to Harry who is already looking at you, the same proud smile you saw from the stage still on his handsome face.

“I have never,” he tells you as his answer to the last line of your speech and you chuckle as your free hand finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. The lipstick on your lips long forgotten as you finally kiss him for the first time tonight.

“I have never either,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again and again.

***

  Smiling around you wait for the audience to quiet down as you make yourself comfortable in the familiar armchair. It’s such a nostalgic feeling to sit here again.

“Y/N, it’s so nice to have you here again,” Ellen greets you once the clapping has stopped.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course. A lot has happened since the last time you were here, you won an Oscar just a few weeks ago, congratulations!”

The cheering starts again as a picture of you appears on the screen behind you, wearing your iconic pink gown, holding your Oscar in your hands.

“Thank you,” you shyly smile, still not entirely in peace with the fact that you are now an Oscar winning actress.

“Such a major thing, congrats.”

“Thank you, it is a huge thing, yes.”

“Do you already have a spot for the award? Does it have a designated place?”

“Well, for now it is in my study along with some more mementos, but I’m planning to have a little stand made in the living room,” you share your plans.

“Surely, I would want to show it off if I had an Oscar,” Ellen chuckles. “You have such a busy time behind you, have you been up to something new lately?”

“We finished filming the third season of The Umbrella Academy, so now I’m having a little break before I jump into anything new.”

“Sounds nice, you deserve all the relaxing. Anything planned while you’re on a break? A new book to read, or maybe a concert to go to?” she asks and you already know where this is heading.

“You know you can just ask if I’m planning to attend a Harry Styles concert,” you bluntly tell her, making the audience and Ellen laugh.

“Well, I was just asking around about your plans, but I’m happy you plan to visit Harry’s concert! It’s also good to know that the situation has changed since the last time you were here, you definitely have been to one of his concerts since then.”

“I have been, yes,” you admit smirking.

“And I assume the two of you are now very close, am I right?” she asks and suddenly a paparazzi photo of the two of you appears where you’re walking down the street hand in hand just a couple of weeks ago.

“You could say that,” you nod, biting into your bottom lip.

“Amazing, because he is going to join us now. Everyone, please welcome Harry Styles!” Ellen announces and turning around you spot Harry walking out from backstage, the audience screaming for him. He shyly waves around walking up to the center, greeting Ellen with a kiss on the cheek before he turns to you, pecking your lips shortly as he sits down next to you.

“Harry, so good to see you again,” Ellen smiles at him.

“Good t’ see you as well,” he nods.

“So, the last time you two were sitting here, you—it was the first time you ever met, right?”

“Right,” you nod with Harry.

“And now you are…” she gestures at the two of you, not finishing the sentence, but everyone knows what she meant by that.

“And now we are… not strangers anymore,” Harry says chuckling, making everyone in the studio laugh.

“Certainly,” Ellen nods. “Alright, I thought that we could play another game, just to bring back some nice memories,” she explains, reaching behind her armchair, grabbing the familiar board from her, flipping it in your hands with a nostalgic smile.

“Can we keep it PG rated though?” Harry asks, examining his board before looking up at Ellen.

“No,” she simply answers, reaching for her cards as the audience starts laughing. “Okay, you know how to play it, no need for explanation. Here is the first one: Never have I ever used my fame to get in somewhere.”

Ellen is quick to show the I HAVE side of her board and you slowly do the same while Harry thinks to himself.

“Oh come on, you surely have,” you elbow him playfully as he smirks in your way, holding up the same side as you and Ellen.

“We all have, it’s not a shame,” Ellen shrugs. “Next one. Never have I ever forgotten the name of someone right after they introduced themselves.”

Ellen holds up the I HAVE side and you do the same again while this time Harry flips it over to I HAVE NEVER confidently.

“Really?” Ellen asks him, surprised at his answer.

“I’m good with names,” he simply shrugs.

“That’s a good trait. Alright, let’s move on. Never have I ever punched someone in the face.”

It’s a sneaky and very shady statement. Just a few days after the incident with Levi, word got out that he was punched, a few blurry pictures floating around the internet of his bruise, then fans figured out it had to happen around the time Harry visited set and people were quick to put the picture together and assume that Harry was the one who hit Levi, but it was never confirmed.

Glancing at your boyfriend you are fighting your smile back, holding up the I HAVE NEVER side as he is looking back at you slyly, continuously flipping his board before it finally lands on I HAVE, the audience immediately rumbling at the partial confirmation and seemingly Ellen is also amazed by Harry’s honesty.

“Alright, interesting. Love that for you, Harry,” he comments making everyone laugh as you reach over and give Harry’s hand a squeeze. “Last one,” Ellen announces, reading the last statement from her cards. “Never have I ever fallen in love with someone I played never have I ever with.”

Ellen quickly shows her I HAVE NEVER side as you suck your lips into your mouth, glancing at Harry again. You share a look before you both slowly raise your boards, both reading the same sign on them: I HAVE.

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles series #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x famous!reader #harry styles x actress!reader #never have i ever series #harry styles never have i ever #harry styles never have i ever series

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Nanny Pt. 1

Lee Bodecker x Nanny!F!Reader

18+ 

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, Sandy and Carl being bad parents, 18+ content in later chapters 

Summary:

Based on this Request: The reader moves to Meade/Knockemstiff while answering an advertisement for a nanny in the paper. We learn that the ad was posted by Sandy, who has the reader watch her child whenever she and Carl leave to do their secret thing. After one of these trips, Sandy and her husband never return, so the reader is left caring for their baby. With the new investigation into these events, she meets Sandy’s brother Lee, the older, out of shape, alcoholic bachelor, and they are suddenly thrown into each others lives as he begins looking into his sister’s disappearance. Through it all, Lee starts to fall for her, and they slowly become a family.

A/N: Here is the first part of my newest series and I want to thank the anon who reached out to me with this idea! 

If I missed anything I should include as a warning that I missed please let me know!

Taglist Form is in my bio and should be updated to now to include this fic! (If for some reason it isn’t working send me a message and I’ll make sure you’re added!!)

“Damn it, Sandy, can’t you handle that?” Carl yells from his dark room as the baby starts crying again.

“Fuck you, Carl,” Sandy shouts back, hurrying to put out her cigarette before heading to the nursery.

Their little girl was just about a year old, and neither one of them knew what they were doing. Carl was incredibly indifferent and despite her honest attempts at motherhood, Sandy’s maternal instincts never kicked in like she thought it would happen. Carl was annoyed that it cut into their time they would be on trips. They weren’t able to photograph models with the baby on the road, so he’d been itching to get back on the road.

“Is she hungry?” he shouts back, not even bothering to take his eyes off of the most recent photographs he had been developing.

“I just fed her!”

“Then why is she crying?”

“Fuck if I know,” Sandy shouts back exasperated. She scooped up the baby from her crib and started to rock her back and forth in her arms. Sandy also tried burping her, humming a little lullaby she made up on the fly… no luck. She walks around the house with the baby on her hip, trying to rock her back to sleep.

“We haven’t able to get back on the road in a year,” Carl says, clearly frustrated.

“That ain’t purely my fault,” she spits back, “Takes two to make a baby, Carl.”

“Fuck I know,” he groans, “But I need new inspiration. If I take one more picture of nature…”

“If she’s such a hindrance, pay for a damn sitter like I suggested months ago,” she counters.

“We can’t have no stranger walking around the house Sandy,” he points out.

“Just keep your damn room locked, it’s not a huge deal,” Sandy sighs. “Besides, no one is gonna snoop around if you pay ‘em enough. You damn well produce your own incriminating evidence; you should always have that room locked anyways.”

“We only have to worry about your damn brother,” Carl points out, “We hire a fucking sitter that’s two people we need to worry about.”

“You’re just to goddamn cheap to hire somebody,” Sandy states, moving back towards the nursery, the baby now snoring softly.

“You know what? Fine,” Carl says defeated. “But you’re in charge of putting the ad out and hiring somebody.”

“Thank you,” she says in a sing song tone, happy she got her way. But the moment of quiet that follows is short lived as they baby starts crying again.

“Please for the love of God can you just take care of that?” Carl yells, and the argument circles back to the beginning.

You had sat in the small dinner in the corner booth hunched over the newspaper and nursing your now cold cup of coffee. You had just arrived in Knockemstiff and were looking for work. “Any leads?” Julie asked as she topped off your coffee. Julie was your roommate. You had found her the same way you were currently looking for a job. You must have answered at least ten terrible Roommate Wanted ads until you had found Julie. The two of you now share an apartment- the top floor of a three-family owned by a sweet older couple.

“Thank you,” you say without looking up from scanning the ads. “Maybe this one?” You say pointing to one of the ads. She looks to see her manager stepped out for his smoke break before sliding in the booth across from you. You slide the paper over to her and she reads the ad out loud.

NANNY NEEDED Knockemstiff, Ohio

Couple that travels for work in need of a nanny for one-year-old daughter.

Temporary live-in position for several weeks at a time. Pay negotiable.

Call Sandy Henderson at the below number.

“I can sublet the room temporarily while you stay there,” Julie offers. “It’s a pretty vague offer,” she continues. “I wouldn’t commit until you call and speak to that Sandy woman.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll need to be interviewed,” you agree. “What kind of people are comfortable just leaving their baby for weeks at a time with a perfect stranger?”

“Paul is still out back I think,” she chuckles, “I’ll let you use the wall phone.”

You take a seat at one of the stools at the counter, and she dials the number for you and then passes you the receiver. You mouth a thank you and she waves her hand in dismissal as she heads over to take someone’s order.

“Whaddya want?” the woman on the other end answers abruptly.

“Oh, I’m calling about the ad in the paper regarding the nanny position. Is it still available?”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, hun,” the woman says, now in a much nicer tone. “Thought it was my brother calling. Yes, it is, and we need it filled as soon as possible. When are you available?”

“For an interview?” You ask.

“Yeah,” she says mumbled, like she is dangling a cigarette from her mouth. “Can you come today?”

“Oh, wow. Yes, I can,” you reply.

“Great, um, you got a pen? Take down this address.”

About two hours, a change of clothes and a cab ride later, you were standing outside a house towards the end of town. It was a little run down, but what building in this town wasn’t? You were a little nervous of course, but it was also the most unconventional way you have gotten an interview. Part of you was relieved, because the woman on the phone sounded real, not phony, but the circumstances still made you uneasy. Julie had the address and said you’d call when you got back to the taxi dispatch.

“Welcome, welcome,” Sandy smiled, opening up the door for you. She had one hand on the doorknob and one of the cutest babies you’d ever seen in the other. “Come on in, make yourself comfortable.”

“Who is this?” you coo, leaning down to the baby’s eye level. “She’s darling.”

“This little sweetheart is Valerie,” Sandy smiles, passing the baby to you. “She’s so well-behaved. Hardly ever cries.”

“She’s adorable,” you smile, as the baby cuddles up close, resting her head on your shoulder. “I didn’t properly introduce myself on the phone. (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I’m Sandy,” she introduces herself. “Please take a seat on the couch, get comfortable. I hate things that are so formal. Bleh.”

You take a seat on the couch, and readjust the little girl in your arms so she’s sitting on your lap and her back is resting against you so she is supported.

“So, my husband and I are on the road a lot, usually,” she begins, “We took some time off when we had Valerie, but we really need to start working again, you understand.”

“Of course, what do you both do?” you ask politely.

“We’re photographers,” she beams, “Mostly nature and landmarks- which reminds me! We have a darkroom in the house, but that door will be locked when you’re staying here. We don’t want any damage to any of the negatives we have stored in there you understand. Everywhere else in the house is yours to explore! And of course we gotta spare bedroom you can call your own.”

“Fair enough,” you joke.

“So, tell me about yourself, honey,” she smiles, crossing her legs in the armchair where she sat.

“Well, I just moved here a few weeks ago actually,” you begin, “I just recently finished school, and now I’m looking for work. I just got my degree in early childcare from the state college.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she says with a clap of her hands. “So, you’re local?”

“Yes, I live in town.”

“Excellent! We’d also love for this to be like an on-call thing as well, you know for date nights and things like that for times when we’re home. Like for a few hours here and there. And of course, we’ll always live money for groceries or whatever you need on top of your pay for emergencies incase Valerie needs formula or diapers or anything.”

“Perfect,” you smile, surprised how well the conversation was going. Sandy was easy-going and nice to talk to. The two of you sat and talked for a little under an hour, her asking all the standard questions you anticipated. You also were able to ask her some more of your own questions as well. It was the most effortless interview you had been on easily.

“I’m sorry you weren’t able to meet Carl today,” she says when she is showing you out. “But hun, I feel confident to offer you the job. We haven’t had many applicants and you’re the most qualified one I’ve spoken to. The job is yours if you want it?”

“When can I start?” you smile, making her laugh.

“Your number is on the resume, right?” she says, scooping up the baby. You nod, waving goodbye to the baby and then saying goodbye to Sandy.

“I’ll call you when I speak to Carl, but I think once he knows he’ll want to head out as soon as we can. Plan for Sunday,” she says as you get into the cab.

Just like she had promised, you get a call from Sandy on Saturday afternoon asking you to show up the next morning at 9. You spend the day packing up your clothes and anything else you’d need for a few weeks. Sandy said they’d be back in two weeks but you pack for three just in case. Julie was also nice enough to help you. You didn’t need to do much. Ever since you had settled in Knockemstiff, you had been pretty lazy with unpacking and for once procrastination played out in your favor.

Julie insisted on taking you out to celebrate that night before starting your job tomorrow. There was a small little bar, a little shack of a place just on the outside of town you went to. Julie had a car and you drove, anticipating she’d have a lot more to drink than you. It was a hotter summer night, so you drove with the windows down and the radio playing a little louder than you normally would.

The outside was decorated with string lights of primary colors and the wooden awning looked like it was one more storm away from collapsing. But the atmosphere inside was to die for. The jukebox was playing loud dance music, and the place was crowded. Empty recycled glasses lined the walls on a high shelf as decoration along with weathered posters of anything Americana. A row of motorcycles and trucks were parked outside the little place and it looked like a pileup from how crowded the lot was. People lingered outside as well, and you both hoped you’d find seats inside.

The two of you found a high-top table and Julie made her way up to the bar, skillfully maneuvering through the crowd to grab you both some drinks. You let your eyes wandering, surveying the room and just people watching. Couples were dancing closely to the music that was rattling the jukebox, and a group of people were sitting at the bar huddles in to watch the little black and white portable television. You also noticed a group of men in uniform several tables down, local police. They weren’t paying any attention to anyone but their own conversation, except one.

He just so happened to have looked up just as your eyes landed on their table. Steel blue eyes cutting across everything and just staring right back into yours. It was a fraction of a second and his gaze was broken by Julie taking her seat across from you. You cleared your throat, and finally allowed yourself to exhale. You felt her raise an eyebrow at you but she didn’t press, just gave you a knowing smirk you brushed off. You still felt his gaze on you even if your view was now obstructed.

Sandy and Carl were in a rush when you arrived in the morning. Sandy ran you through the details of where everything was kept and told you that she would call to check in when she could when they made stopped. She helped you carry your bags in from the trunk of the taxi while Carl packed their bags in their car. He was polite enough, but you felt in your gut to just keep your distance. Sandy led you upstairs to the guest room she told you she worked to clean out for you. It was simple, a bed and a dresser with a small closet. She said it mostly had been storage and her weekend project had been clearing it out for you. It was simple, but good enough for you for sure. You thanked her and she dismissed it saying you were the one doing her a favor, making you laugh.

The whole ordeal was very hurried. Carl was rushing to get on the road as soon as possible and you could tell he was clearly irritated at how long Sandy was taking showing you around and explaining things about Valerie. Carrying the baby in your arms, you finally were settled in to your new role and Sandy gave one more big hug and a kiss on Valerie’s head before rushing down to the car. You waved to the pair of them from the small front porch, Sandy looking back and waving to the baby from the passenger seat until they were out of your line of vision.

The first day was a little daunting. New space, living in a house that isn’t yours and a baby babbling in your arms. She was a sweet thing, and she already had taken a liking to you. Heading over to her nursery, you saw that she had a little play pen folded up in the corner of the nursery and you quickly set it up in your room so you could unpack while keeping an eye on her. She babbled just happy utter nonsense to you while you navigated around the space and her big eyes just followed you, just watching you was entertaining for her for now. You were a new face and she was entertained just by that for now.

A few hours later, Valerie had settled down for a nap in the early afternoon. She was sleeping soundly in her crib and you were getting formula ready for when she woke up. It was quiet, the only noise in the house was the small sounds of your own rustling in the kitchen. You wondered when you would hear from Sandy, if it would be later tonight or in a couple of days. You just were lost in your own thoughts when you were startled by a loud knocking on the door. Instantly, Valerie began to cry. You wiped your hands quickly on the skirt of your dress before grabbing her. You rested her on your hip and rocked her gently, shushing her to calm down while you went to grab the door.

The first thing your eyes saw were the same blue eyes who was looking at you at the bar last night. The man’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked really confused. He had one hand rested on his hip and the other against the doorframe, but he stood up straight when he saw it wasn’t who he expected. Your eyes then went down to the shiny Sheriff’s Badge fixed in place on his uniform.

“Who are you?” he asks abruptly. “Where’s Sandy?”

“Sandy and Carl left this morning,” you explain, not sure if he recognizes you. “I’m their nanny.”

He laughs and shakes his head as he looks down, almost like he doesn’t believe you, or he just doesn’t believe the situation. “Carl? Carl Henderson hired a nanny?” he scoffs and you nod, holding Valerie a little closer. The little girl rubs her eyes and yawns, when her eyes flutter open, she looks at the stranger in the doorway and immediately reaches out to signal she wants to be held by him. You ignore her resistance to wanting to be in your arms until you get more information about why the Sheriff is at their doorstep, though she obviously knows him.

“I’m Sandy’s brother,” he explains, “Did she say when they were coming back?” He doesn’t try to hold the baby yet, just holds out one of his fingers and her little hand holds onto it tightly.

“Two weeks.”

“They hire a complete stranger to watch my niece and live in their house unsupervised while they drive around?” he scoffs, shaking his head again in disbelief.

“I’m more than qualified…”

“It’s not a jab at you, sweetheart,” the man tries to explain, “More so a reflection on my sister and her husband is all. They are… fairly selfish people and I wished this situation surprises me more than it does.”

“Should I tell her you came by when she calls?” you ask.

“If she calls,” the man chuckles, “Sure, let her know Lee stopped by to visit.”

“You don’t think she will?” you ask, tilting your head.

“We’ll see,” Lee shrugs, “Do I know you from somewhere?” He rests his arm back up on the doorframe and looks down to the baby again, extending out his free hand to her again and scrunching her cheeks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, not wanting to admit you remembered seeing him last night. He purses his lips together and nods, not pressing further. He pushes off from the doorframe and puts his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Must’ve been in a dream then,” he smirks, and you feel your cheeks flush. He walks down the steps and back towards his cop car. “What did you say your name was?” he asks, turning back around.

“I didn’t,” you chuckle.

“Hmm,” he nods, and raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to fill in the blank. You tell him your name and he repeats it back to you like he’s thinking about it, trying it out to see how it sounds.

“Well,” he says, standing behind the open driver’s door, “Good luck, and I hope Sandy proves me wrong. Let me know if she calls.”

Taglist: 

@adelaide-walker @thedepressolit @samanthadegaro​ 

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #the devil all the time #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan characters #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker fluff #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan imagine #x reader #fluff #smut #nanny!reader #x f!reader #found family

[ragingbookdragon]

I'm Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 4

Batfamily x Batsis Story!

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language, ALL THE ANGST Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines @starflyer-104 @justine-en @iwillstaywiththemforever @weirdgirlfromtx @edlothia-baby @soul-end @notsostraightweeb @candlestudy

Author's Note: Some of y'all didn't tag so see if that's something on your end. Enjoy the angst and cliffhanger! -Thorne

Wally didn’t come into the coffee shop for almost two whole months after their fight—not that she blamed him—she was still vaguely upset with his harsh words. But she had to admit that she’d gotten used to his warm presence every morning, and not seeing him messed her up more than she thought it would. More often than not, she found herself absentmindedly staring at the door, waiting for him to walk in with that stupid grin on his face and proceed to boast and recall whatever exciting exploits he and his friends had accomplished earlier. It hurt not to see or hear him, and she realized that Wally had become the greatest friend she’d ever had.

Barry still came in though, and if he knew who she really was, he didn’t say anything because he still acted like he always did. So, even if Wally were still angry with her, at least he’d kept his word and not said anything to anyone about her identity. Which if she were honest, tasted bitter when she thought about the price she paid for his silence—his friendship.

It was getting colder again, which meant a lot more people were coming and going from the shop, so at least she could take her mind off her feelings for at least a few hours. Until she got home, and all she was left with were them and a whole lot of silence to think about them with. Sometimes she thought about calling Wally, at least to hear his voice. Hell, even if their last words to one another were frigid, she missed the interaction. She’d give anything to hear him, even taking another round of cold snipes and trades.

She heaved a sigh and wiped down the last few tables of the evening rush, smiling politely at the people who were still sitting at tables or so across. Today had been hectic and there’d been no let up of customers until the last hour of the shift. She’d never thought they’d run out of coffee, but it came close to that a couple hours ago.

The bell above the door chimed and with her back turned to the entrance, she didn’t see who came in, but with another barista at the counter ready to take the final orders of the evening, she didn’t particularly care. All she wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed. Sleep until hell froze over. That, or until her feet stopped hurting—whichever came first. She let out a quiet laugh that made her chest ache—Wally would’ve found that absolutely hilarious and probably shot back about how if anyone had the right to complain about their feet hurting, it would be him. God, she really missed Wally.

“Melisandre,” someone called quietly, and she glanced over her shoulder, eyes widening when she saw the familiar red head behind her.

Speak and the Devil will appear.

“Wally,” she breathed, voice thick with shock, and before she could stop herself, she was throwing her arms around his waist, squeezing him tightly.

He returned her hug in fold. “I guess I wasn’t the only one who missed this,” he quipped.

She huffed a laugh and pulled away. “Believe it or not, it doesn’t feel right when you don’t come around.” Her eyes narrowed almost sadly. “I’ve missed seeing you, Wally.”

“Same here,” he replied, then glanced at the clock above the espresso machines. “Are you almost off? I want to take you somewhere.”

Nodding, she took a look at her watch. “I get off in about ten minutes. Can you wait that long, or will you perish from boredom?”

“I think I can survive ten minutes, Melisandre,” he retorted and collapsed into one of the booths. “Hurry though, I don’t want to be late.”

She rolled her eyes and deadpanned, “Wally, I can’t speed time up. That’s not how that works.”

“Works for me.” He proudly stated.

“I wonder why?” she retorted sarcastically, then gave him a smile before wandering off to clean the last tables.

***

Despite the fact that Wally could run anywhere he wanted in less than a second, he still owned a vehicle and that was downright baffling in her opinion.

“Dick got it for me.” He suddenly said, shifting the car into drive and she blinked internally wincing at the mention of her brother.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know you didn’t, (Y/N). But you were thinking it.”

“Uh huh,” she doubted and crossed her arms over her chest. “What am I thinking about right now?”

“Knowing you? Probably food, I know you like to ea—” he dissolved into laughter when she reached over and shoved at his side.

“No, I don’t you ass.”

“Really? Because I distinctly remember the time I took a fry off your basket and you looked at me like I’d killed your favorite dog.” (Y/N) glared at him and he pointed at her. “Yeah, that’s the look right there.”

“I don’t like sharing my food,” she said. “You should’ve known better.” Her eyes drifted to the windshield. “So, where are we going?”

“S.T.A.R. labs.”

(Y/N) cocked a brow and stared at him. “Really? S.T.A.R. labs? What’s there?”

Wally shrugged. “Wanted to show you a bit of what it’s like to be me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You mean you came to see me after all this time and the first thing we’re doing is going to a lab so you can show my what you do?”

His gaze momentarily darted to hers. “Is that a problem?”

“I dunno, I just figured we’d go eat a diner somewhere and apologize to each other.”

“Are you sorry?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Are you sorry? For all of the last three years?”

“Not particularly,” she griped, and he shrugged again.

“Then I’m not sorry for what we said to each other that night.” he let out a sigh. “But I’m willing to let it go, because I’d rather us just have a disagreement than lose what our friendship over it.” he looked at her. “What do you say?”

(Y/N) stared at him for a long moment, then she sighed and nodded. “…Yeah, I agree.”

Wally smiled. “Good.” He turned the wheel and pulled into the parking lot of the lab. “But there is food there for us, so you’ll be satiated anyways.”

“Hardy har har. Shut up, Wallace West,” she shot back, climbing out of the car. Her eyes traveled up the tall building. “Wow, this place is huge, isn’t it?”

She felt him stand next to her. “Yeah. Did you know they had to replace the glass windows a whole bunch of times because Barry and I kept shattering them when we’d run up ‘em?”

(Y/N) blinked, unsurprisingly stating, “No, I did not. But I can see that happening.”

He started towards the doors, leaving her to follow and soon they were stepping into an elevator. She watched him hit the rooftop button and she looked at him.

“If you’re showing me what you do, why are we going to the roof? Shouldn’t we be going to some laboratory inside?”

Wally chuckled. “Patience, young padawan.” He ignored her rolling eyes. “Food first.”

“Oh, dinner in the moonlight? Well, aren’t you just the romantic.” (Y/N) cocked her elbow on his shoulder and grinned. “Don’t tell me you fell in love with me all that time we spent away from each other?”

This time, he was rolling his eyes. “Hardly, (Y/N). I just figured you’d want a nice evening where you weren’t staring at your bland kitchen walls.”

She scoffed and pulled away from him. “Look, I’d paint and hang shit up but the landlord wouldn’t be happy.”

“Since when do you care about making people happy? You’re typically a ‘I’m going to make someone unhappy’ type of person.” Her eyes shifted to his and he waved a hand. “Not what you’re thinking about—I was talking about the coffee shop.”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, then she hummed. “There’s nothing more fun than telling someone I’m going to get the manager and then do my magic little spin and cheerfully greet, ‘Hi, I’m the manager’.” She grinned. “Does wonders to see Karen’s little head explode.”

Wally chuckled and the elevator dinged. The doors split open, and they walked out onto the rooftop. Surprisingly, the roof was enclosed and lighted, giving her perfect vision and when her eyes fell on them, her heart seemed to stop in her chest, and her feet to a halt.

They stood from the table they’d been sitting at and with her heart hammering against her ribcage, she immediately spun on her heel, intent to flee back into the elevator, only to come chest to chest with Wally, who wrapped his arms around her waist—effectively keeping her in place.

Her feet were still moving on their own accord and she shoved against his chest, trying to get back to the lift. “Wally, move.”

“No, (Y/N),” he murmured, and she could feel her breath starting to come in and out in panicked spurts.

“Wally, please, I’m begging you, move.” She stared up at him and plead, “Please don’t make me do this. I’ll do anything, just please let me leave.”

His evergreen eyes were narrowed in pity, but there was a firmness that rested within that pity and he shook his head. “I can’t let you leave, (Y/N).”

“Wally, please,” she begged, arms starting to go limp against his chest, the tears flooding her vision. “Don’t make me do this.”

“You’ve gotta stop running, (Y/N).”

She couldn’t help the sob that escaped her, and she rested her cheek against his chest. “I hate you…so much.”

“I know,” he murmured.

“You’re a liar and I hate you.”

Wally sighed. “I know you do.”

(Y/N)’s face contorted in anger despite her pain. “I should’ve left the night we fought. I knew you wouldn’t be capable of keeping it from him. From any of them,” she sneered and suddenly pulled away from his grip, eyes flashing with rage.

“This wasn’t your right to tell!” she shouted at him and shoved him in the chest. Wally didn’t budge an inch and she shoved him again. “God, I was so naïve to assume you’d keep your fucking mouth shut! That’s one thing you’re not capable of doing!”

She growled and turned from him, running her hands over her face. “Three years of relative peace shot straight down the fucking drain,” she shot him a teary glower. “All because of you and your big bleeding heart for your best friend.”

Wally frowned. “I’m doing what I think is best, (Y/N).”

“Forcing me to meet them isn’t what’s best, Wally! I didn’t want to be found! I didn’t want to be associated with them again!” she snarled and in an instance her anger cooled, her shoulders drooping as she lamented, “…This wasn’t a decision you should’ve made. This was never your right to decide. For me…or for them.”

“Perhaps it wasn’t,” he agreed. “But if you weren’t going to draw the line in the sand, I was.”

(Y/N) met his gaze and held it for a long moment, then she turned her attention to the four men who were standing in front of the table, their expressions a mixture of regret, anger, and relief.

She let out a long sigh and reached up to rub at her temples. “Let me guess, I’m not allowed to leave until we’ve had our picture-perfect reunion scene?”

Wally nodded. “The elevator is sadly,” his hand shot backwards and with a sharp crackle of lightning, the light went out. “out of order.”

(Y/N) shook her head in disappointment at him then declared, “The next time I run, I’m settling in a city that has no superheroes.”

“Good plan,” he quipped. “But I don’t think there’ll be anymore running.”

She got up in his face and hissed, “Then you underestimate my feelings regarding the brothers and father before me.”

#batfamily x reader #batfamily x reader imagines #batfamily x reader imagine #batfamily imagines #batfamily imagine #batfamily #batsis x batfam #batsis x batfamily imagines #batsis x batfamily imagine #batsis imagines #batsis imagine #batsis #bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #dc comics #dc imagines #dc imagine #dc #wally west #the flash #flash

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Unlucky in Love

masterlist

Gif credit to @ogledalo-moje-duse​

Summary: Spencer is unlucky in love - until he isn’t.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, some suggestive content

Word Count: 3.4k

           Spencer Reid is, by most people’s definition, unlucky in love.

           It wasn’t for lack of trying. In his early twenties, Spencer often caught himself fantasizing about being on the receiving end of some great storybook romance straight out of one of the classic novels on his bookshelf. On the rare occurrence where his mind was able to slow down long enough, Spencer would daydream about what his future partner would be like. Would they share his fondness for the written word, or his penchant for foreign cinema? Would they find his tendency to go off on tangents endearing and his less than fashionable style of dress charming? Spencer liked to think so, but the likelihood of finding someone who could accept him despite all of his quirks seemed low.

           But still he hoped, even though he knew hope was a dangerous thing. Hope gave life to the possibility of disappointment – and if there was one thing Spencer did not need more of, it was that.

           Spencer Reid was in love with the idea of love – obsessed with the idea of his soul intertwining with someone else’s. But with his thirtieth birthday quickly approaching and absolutely no prospective love interests in sight, Spencer was feeling more than a little disheartened. It certainly didn’t help that everywhere he turned, love was running rampant. Hotch had Beth, Penelope had Kevin, Jennifer had Will, and Morgan had… any number of possible partners. Emily and Rossi were both unattached, but happily so in a way that Spencer just couldn’t quite manage.

           It wasn’t that he didn’t like seeing the people around him happy – it was just that he couldn’t help but wonder when he’d finally get his chance at love.

           A month before Spencer’s thirtieth birthday, everything changes.

           When a member of Garcia’s victims’ support group goes missing, it’s all hands on deck at the BAU. It’s not that they’d give any less than one hundred percent on any other given day, but as with any case that hits close to home, everyone on the team is in a frenzy trying to put the pieces together. The thing that makes this case different is the fact that people from other departments are quick to lend a hand. It comes as no surprise to Spencer – Penelope is a social butterfly by nature. She made it her business to know and befriend everyone in the building. Her sunny disposition is hard not to love, and her current distress had garnered the support of more than a few non-team members.

           By the time the case wraps up, the bullpen is much busier and, much to Spencer’s chagrin, much louder than usual. The steady influx of people has Spencer’s head spinning and he can’t seem to focus on the papers sitting in front of him. What should take him thirty seconds to read has almost taken twenty minutes, and at this point the words on the paper are all running together. Spencer knows that it doesn’t help that he’s running on less than three hours of sleep, as evidenced by the frequency of his yawns. Worse even is the fact that his coffee cup is empty and no, he thinks, that simply will not do. With a sigh Spencer pushes away from his desk, bones creaking as he stands.

           With his coffee cup in hand, Spencer shuffles to the breakroom. He goes through the motions of preparing his drink, lazily stirring in the mountain of sugar before turning to leave.

           Spencer supposes that if it weren’t for the fact that he was horribly sleep deprived, he would’ve seen you walking down the hallway. But alas, Spencer’s alertness had been compromised by poor sleeping habits, and he isn’t aware of your presence until his body is colliding with yours and his hot coffee is dripping down the front of your blouse.

           “Ouch,” you whimper, and Spencer is immediately overwhelmed with guilt.

           “O-Oh my God, I am so sorry,” he splutters. Without waiting for a response, Spencer’s rushing into the break room and procuring a thick stack of napkins. The part of his brain that controls logical thinking is apparently overrun by the onset of his mortification, and in an act of absolutely panic, he begins to dab at the stains with one of the napkins.

           “I-I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m so so sorry,” Spencer stutters out, frantically attempting to blot the stain. “I’ll give you money for a new shirt. A-Actually, you should probably take this one off.  The best way to treat scalds is to immediately get the person away from the heat source. You should also run some cold water over it.”

           In his hurry to rectify his mistake, Spencer hadn’t managed to take a good look at you. When his eyes leave the stain in favor of looking at your face, he prepares himself to see anger there. What he doesn’t expect is for your face to be just as flushed as his, with eye brows raised in shock.

          Spencer also doesn’t expect this to be the moment he’s been waiting on his entire life, but one look into your eyes tells him this is it - this is your person.

           Stunned into a stupor, Spencer stills, eyes boring into your own. You’re even more beautiful than he’d dared to let himself imagine, but in all honesty that didn’t matter much. What matters is the fact that there’s a faint hint of smile lines etched into your skin, and your eyes are so inherently kind that Spencer has no doubt that you’re as gentle as you are alluring. Your benevolence is also evidenced by the fact that you hadn’t immediately begun to yell at him, and for that he is thankful.

           Spencer’s revelation renders him unable to form any semblance of thought, and before he knows it almost a solid minute of him gaping at you passes. You begin to squirm uncomfortably under his gaze.

           “I, uh, appreciate the help, and you seem like a nice enough guy, but your hand is on my boob and I kind of make it a point to not let strangers touch the goods. So, if you don’t mind,” you stammer, looking pointedly at his hand that is still pressing a napkin to your chest. Spencer recoils as if he’s the one that’s been scalded.

           “I-I didn’t mean to, um, t-touch your -,” Spencer gulps, “- chest. I swear I was just trying to get the stain out. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he chokes out. Spencer had imagined the moment he’d come face to face with his person a million times, and none of his daydreams had accounted for the possibility of him giving her second degree burns and inadvertently copping a feel. His emotions fell somewhere between mortification and elation.

           “Mm likely story,” you murmur, lips upturning into a smile that has Spencer feeling weak in the knees. Spencer practically swoons. “Do you make it a habit to ask strangers to take their tops off, or am I just special?”

           Oh God, had I really suggested that? Spencer cringes and wonders what good an IQ as high as his was when it seemed to fail him at times like these. Speaking to women had never been a specialty of his, despite Derek’s coaching, and Spencer was floundering to come up with an acceptable response.

           You are the most special woman in the world, probably. Nope – too creepy, and Spencer definitely doesn’t want to scare you off. Not when he’s been waiting the better part of thirty years to meet you.

           I didn’t mean to insinuate that you should take off your shirt, but I also wouldn’t particularly mind if you did. Even worse – that would certainly earn him a stern talking to from HR.

           Spencer decides to go for the honest approach.

           “I-I’m not sure how to answer that.”

           His honesty draws a laugh from you, and Spencer loves the sound so much that he decides then that he’ll never tell a lie again. You shake your head at him and reach for the napkins that he still has clutched in his hands.

           “What’s your name?” you ask him as you continue his earlier efforts to sop up the coffee.

           It’s probably the easiest question he’s ever been asked. That doesn’t stop him from making a fool out of himself, though.

           “I’m Doctor Spencer R-Reid. Uh, I’m Spencer. Y-You don’t have to call me Doctor.”

           Someone please put me out of my misery.

           Your eyes meet his again and he can tell that you’re holding back a laugh.

           “Okay, then, Spencer,” you say as you discard the napkins in a nearby trash bin. “I’m Y/N.” You punctuate your words with an outstretched hand, and before Spencer can think better of it, the usual spiel come tumbling out of his mouth.

           “The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss.”

           Your lower your hand and cock your head to the side.

           “Are you always this forward, Doctor Reid?” you tease him, eyes flashing amusedly.

           “I-I didn’t mean that we should kiss,” Spencer interjects, cringing at the way his voice has suddenly raised in pitch. “N-Not that I wouldn’t kiss you! I-I’m sure that kissing you would be really n-nice. I just meant that… you know. Germs.”

           Are you there, God? It’s me, Spencer. A hole opening up in the ground and swallowing me up would be great.

           To Spencer’s delight, you don’t seem offended in the slightest.

           “I cannot believe that they’ve been hiding you up here, Spencer Reid. I should’ve come to visit Penny years ago.”

           Wait – what?

           “You work here?”

           You nod.

           “I work on the floor below this one – sex crimes,” you explain.

           “For how long?”

           “Coming up on three years now.”

           Three years. You’d been right under Spencer’s nose for three years and he hadn’t the slightest clue. You’d parked your car in the same parking garage and taken the same elevator as he! How many times had your paths nearly crossed in the last three years? If he’d been just a little bit earlier or a little bit later getting into work, might the two of you met earlier? The possibility of it was maddening.

           “Oh, wow. I-I’ve never seen you,” Spencer mutters lamely. But miraculously, you don’t think he’s lame, if your response is any indication.

           “Nor I you, Doc. It’s a shame, too. You’re a funny guy.”

           Spencer Reid has been called a lot of things in his lifetime – funny was never one of them.

           “Y-Yeah. I’m a real riot at parties,” he deadpans.            “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” you hum, and Spencer really hopes that you mean it. “Would you mind escorting me to Penelope’s office?”

           Spencer nods, and the two of you fall in step together. Spencer’s wracking his brain again for something – anything- he could say to fill the silence. Thankfully, you don’t seem quite as inept at conversing as he, and you beat him to it.

           “You look a little young yourself, Spencer. How long have you worked here?”

           “Uh, I’ve actually worked here for almost eight years. I started when I was twenty-two.”

           Your eyebrows raise in shock.

           “Twenty-two, huh? That makes you – what? Thirty now? I wouldn’t put you a day past twenty-five,” you muse, and Spencer isn’t quite sure what to make of that. You must pick up on the conflicted look on his face, because you clarify. “That’s a good thing, Doc. I hope I look as good as you do when I’m thirty.”

           Spencer has to remind himself how to breathe.

           “I’m not thirty yet. Technically I have twenty-three more days. I could have a rapid decline in attractiveness by then.”

           Spencer’s not usually one to try to be funny, but she seems to have a good sense of humor and he wants to impress you in any way he can.

           “I guess I’ll have to swing back by in twenty-three days and find out.”

           The two of you come to a stop in front of Penelope’s office and Spencer tries not to look as disappointed as he feels. He doesn’t want your meeting to come to an end – not when there’s so much about you that he wants to know. He wants to ask about your opinion on books and obscure foreign films and most importantly, Spencer wants to know what you think about him. Did meeting him affect you in the same way it did him? Did you secretly wish to make this moment last, too?

           Spencer wants to say so much, but he can’t. He’s too awkward and too scared and too nervous to find the right words. So instead, he gives you a tight-lipped smile.

           “I’m sorry about your blouse. Can I please give you the money to buy a new one? I feel like it’s the least I can do.”

           “Absolutely not. It’s really not that big of a deal. Didn’t even really care for the shirt, if I’m being honest. Red really isn’t my color.”

           Spencer wants to tell you how wrong you are – that he’s infinitely certain that you’d look irresistible in any color – but he doesn’t.

           You reach for the door knob, and Spencer’s shoulders slump.

           “It was nice meeting you, Spencer.”

           And then you’re gone, and Spencer can’t help but think that he royally fucked up the most important introduction of his entire life.

--

           When Spencer envisioned how his life would look at age thirty, he’d imagined it being a lot different than it is now. He’d hoped to use his intelligence for something great – finding a way to cure Alzheimer’s had been his main aspiration. Yet, here he was, thirty years old with nothing more than three PhDs to his name. He’d accomplished nothing of great significance, and the idea of having wasted his intelligence was eating away at him.

           In short, Spencer Reid was in a bit of a funk.

           It didn’t help that he hadn’t seen you since that fateful day in the bullpen. Spencer had contemplated paying you a visit, but the lingering embarrassment over his actions kept him from reaching out. He didn’t think he could handle how badly a rejection from you would hurt, so instead he sulked around the office and wallowed in his own self-deprecation.

           Spencer’s birthday wasn’t something he tended to advertise. From a young age, he’d chosen to observe it silently. Usually, his mother would forget, and he never really had any friends to celebrate with, so the day was always rather unimportant to him. Perhaps he would order takeout and gorge himself on greasy food while he sat alone in his apartment. It had been good enough for him last year, and he supposed it would have to suffice this year as well.

           He made it a point not to mention it to his coworkers, and the day passed by just as any other day. By the time five o clock rolled around, Spencer was waving a goodbye to his coworkers and heading out the door. As he waits for the elevator, he debates on whether to order Thai food or pizza for dinner.

           Just as he settles on Thai, the elevator doors open.

           “Oh, thank God, I was worried that you had left already!”

           Before Spencer can get over the initial shock of seeing you, you’re stepping out of the elevator and into his space, an excited smile on your lips. And then you’re holding out your hand, and Spencer’s almost moved to tears when he sees you wielding a single chocolate cupcake.

           “I wasn’t sure if you’d like chocolate or vanilla better, so I went with my gut. I get the feeling you’re a chocolate kind of guy,” you say, eyes shining as you look up at him. “So, was I right?”

           “You brought this for me?” Spencer asks, voice barely above a whisper. He can’t fathom it – that you had spared him any thought past your initial meeting. Spencer had surely expected you to forget about him entirely. Either that, or you’d written him off as someone to be avoided.

           You nod.

           “Of course, I did. It’s your birthday. Everyone deserves something sweet on their birthday.” You pause, the smile dropping from your face. “It is your birthday, right? I didn’t miss it, did I?”

           Spencer is slow to shake his head.

           “N-No, you didn’t miss it. I’m just surprised you remembered.”

           You chuckled softly.

           “You’re very unforgettable, Doctor Reid,” you say, and Spencer’s heart flutters in his chest. “And you didn’t answer my question.” You gesture to the cupcake expectantly.

           “Chocolate is my favorite,” Spencer breathes out, raising a shaky hand and taking it from her. “I… Thank you. You didn’t have to do this. It’s not that big of a deal.”

           “Are you kidding me? You’re turning thirty. That’s a very big deal, Doc.,” you argue, and Spencer gives you a tentative smile.

           “If you say so.”

           “I do,” you smirk, before hitting the button to open the elevator doors. “So, do you have any big plans to celebrate?”

           The doors open and you and Spencer file into the elevator together– an event three years in the making.

           “Not really. I was just going to order some food and stay in,” Spencer says before taking a bite of the cupcake. It tastes wonderful – better than a store-bought cupcake could ever be. This cupcake was undoubtably made from scratch, and the thought of you taking the time out of your day to bake something for him makes him feel weak at the knees. Pair that with the way you’re looking up at him and Spencer worries he might collapse.

           “What kind of food?”

           “Thai,” Spencer says around the mouthful of cake.

           “Mm,” you hum. “You know – I happen to love Thai food. And I also happen to not have any plans for the evening.”

           Even Spencer, who struggles to decipher the simplest of social cues, can deduce that you are insinuating that you want to spend the evening with him. He’s thankful, then, that he had already swallowed the bite of cupcake, because there’s no doubt in his mind that he’d have choked on it. Spencer gapes at you, but your gaze is unwavering and your body language gives no indication that you were joking.

           “D-Do… Do you want to, uh, come over?” Spencer trips over his words more times than any grown man should, but in his defense, he isn’t exactly well versed in matters like this.

           “Do you want me to come over?”

           “Yes.” Spencer answers so quickly that it should be embarrassing, but it’s hard to feel anything but happy when you’re looking at him like that.

           “Then in that case, I thought you’d never ask,” you sigh dramatically, and then the door opens up and you link your arm with his. “You know, I was beginning to think I’d never see you again. I’ve been driving Penelope crazy asking about you, Doc.”

           “You’ve been asking about me?” Spencer asks, incredulous.

           “Absolutely. It’s not every day that you meet a guy who has the audacity to feel you up and ask you to undress within the first five minutes. I just had to know more,” you tease, and Spencer can’t help but laugh. Despite the cold air of the parking garage, Spencer feels warm – warmer than he’s ever felt and he knows that it has everything to do with the way you’ve pressed yourself against his side.

           “In that case, I’m very glad I spilled my coffee on you,” Spencer says and you let out a snort.

           “Yeah, I could’ve done without that part. And the part where you called me germy.”

           “I did not mean it like that,” Spencer insists. You hum and detach yourself from him, and Spencer instantly misses the contact.

           “Because it’s your birthday, I’ll let you off the hook,” you announce, making your way to the other side of his car, all while never taking your eyes off him. “And if you’re lucky, birthday boy, I might just be willing to test that theory of yours.”

           Spencer cocks his head to the side.

           “Theory?”

           You nod, and the smile that creeps across your face is the best birthday present he’s ever gotten.

           “You said you thought kissing me would be nice. I think we should find out.”

           Spencer Reid is, by most people’s definition, unlucky in love. But as he steals glances at you on the way to his apartment, his chest swells with a hope that maybe – just maybe – his luck is about to change.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer x y/n #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid self insert #fluff #fanfiction

[kosmosguk]

Lineage (M) | 4

Pairing: Duke Yoongi x Princess Reader

Word Count: 5.2K

Summary: When an engagement locks you, the 8th and forgotten princess, to the duke infamous for his cruelty, you find yourself counting the days until your inevitable death. It’s terrifying to think of your end, but when you arrive at his territory, you realize there’s a more morbid reason behind your marriage, and that the duke is much worse than the rumors have painted him out to be.

Warnings:  HEAVY yandere themes, death, mentions of gore and death, near-death experiences, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, mentions of smut, 18+, explicit language, pregnancy, vomiting

A/N: wow...I can’t believe this story (well the main story; there’s a special chapter and an epilogue coming up) is over. Over 40 pages later...It feels like I’ve raised and nurtured a baby into a somewhat adult and now I have to send it off for college or smth :( I never thought the story would do this good in the first place (part 1 has 4k+ notes and I’m ,, shook ,,,) so to everyone who supported and loved this story (as messy as it was)...THANK YOU! Please keep supporting my writing, and I hope to keep improving as your lovely kosmosguk :]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

The air was still cold, the kind of cold that heavily bore on your lungs and left you rattling like the only thing left of you was a decaying ivory skeleton. You supposed the cold made sense, even though it was spring and it shouldn’t have been so cold. Some part of you convinced yourself it was the norm even when droplets of icy water splashed onto your frail cheeks. Even when you closed the door behind you, you could feel the chill; even when an acrid taste built up in your throat, you could not stop shivering.

Why could you remember the look on Namjoon’s face? You closed your eyes. Go away, go away, go away. His face lingered even then, even more stark against the darkness of your closed lids, hollow, disappointed eyes and lips curled too rigidly, too unnaturally into a smile. You knew that look. You hated that look.

You could feel the pain in your chest, prickling, and that pain seemed to sink itself into your stomach. Why did it hurt? Why were you hurting?

10. 9. 8.

You counted in your mind softly as the nausea swelled up, like the disgustingly messy crescendo of an agonizing melody. Now, this was strange, wasn’t it? Your cold wasn’t supposed to be accompanied by such nausea. When you began to heave, bracing yourself against the frame of your bed, you heard a knock and then the door click open.

A maid stood out there, her eyes widening as if she could not fathom the sight of you. You clasped your hand around your mouth, tears building up in your eyes, and you choked on a heave. You heard her footsteps tapping frantically as she dashed to get a bucket, but you couldn’t hold in the prickling in your throat, the swirling in your stomach.  

Tears spilled out, dropping onto the ground, as you bent over and retched all over your nightgown and the carpet. Your vision blurred, spots dancing, and you sunk heavily into the moment of weakness.

When you came to, you were being encased in something warm. You didn’t smell anything rancid like what you had been expecting; instead, the soft pleasant scene of rose oil scented soap met your nose, and you exhaled a relieved sigh. Wait…rose wasn’t the only smell. You could smell a hint of wine and something muskier, though slightly sweet. The smell of it was so familiar. It couldn’t be? You peeked open an eye to look up to see your surroundings, and your mouth dropped open slightly.

“D-duke? My Lord. Why are you here? Why…How did I get here?’’ you sputtered, and you tried to push yourself out of his hold. His gaze, along with his hold, remained steady. He reached out slightly and gently trailed a finger down the curve of your cheek.

“I haven’t been able to visit you lately because of how busy I’ve been…If I had known you were feeling so ill, I would’ve been by your side. I’m so sorry,’’ his tone was remorseful. The Duke, who everyone believed had no bone of emotion in his body and who was notorious for never feeling remorse, was apologizing to you. His words seemed to wash out every agony you had experienced. You rapidly blinked away the hint of tears in your eyes and ducked your head shyly.

He caught your chin with a hand before you could hide your face and lifted it gently. You noticed the black circles imprinted into the skin under his eyes, the way his face was even more waxy and pale than usual. Every aggrievance you had despaired over while alone in that room faded; you missed him. You missed him so much. You wouldn’t have been stuck in your own head if he had been there to hold you…but he was here now.

That thought washed over you, and you wrapped your fingers around the hand that was under your chin. His hand was limp as you pushed it down to your thrumming heart. Your stomach fluttered as his fingertips traced your warm skin peeking out of the collar of your nightgown. You carefully held his hand there. You didn’t notice the brief flash of guilt on his face.

You didn’t say anything, your hand still firmly holding his, and you shuffled your body closer, closing your eyes. The scent of the two of you mixed together was pleasant, and although Yoongi’s touch was usually unnaturally cold, today he was so warm. Or maybe the warmth of you had seeped out and spread around the two of you. That was okay; you were warm enough for the both of you. You suddenly felt so tired, even though you had just slept.

“Yoongi…,’’ your voice was barely a mumble,’’ I’m tired. Stay with me?’’

He moved the hand in your grasp slightly, and you held on tightly even though you were half-asleep. He chuckled lowly.

“Don’t worry. Relax your hand. I’ll be here,’’ he spoke. You complied, and you felt his fingers wrap themselves around yours. The two of you laid there, a hand clasped with the other between your chests, and you took in the sensation of your husband with every deep inhale.

“I’ll always be here.”

“Is she better?’’

Namjoon leaned back on the chain, but his posture was still stiff. Yoongi gazed at him with cold eyes from the chair across from Namjoon.

“What were you doing with her? Alone.’’ Yoongi’s voice was menacing.

Namjoon casually shrugged, his voice was level and careful to not expose any of his inner emotions.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? I was checking up on her, something her husband wasn’t doing. She didn’t look too good either,’’ Namjoon kept an eye on Yoongi’s reaction, his tone accusatory and raising in volume,’’ It made me think that you don’t give a damn about her, even though she looks and acts so much like her.’’

“Don’t.’’

Namjoon laughed bitterly.

“Don’t what? Don’t mention how much of a shitty husband you are? Don’t mention her? Shouldn’t I be telling you that? Don’t treat her like a replacement. She isn’t her. She died years ago. I saw her dead body. You saw her dead body. She’s not here anymore, Yoongi. You have to move on.’’

Yoongi’s palms were in fists now, his knuckles turning white, but his voice remained steady.

“She’s not dead.’’

Namjoon looked at Yoongi in disbelief, his expression twisting even further. Namjoon could only laugh, the sound dry and hoarse, and it crackled out like the remnants that Namjoon held in his heart.

“Yoongi.’’ This wasn’t Namjoon. Namjoon rarely got angry at Yoongi; hell, after what happened, he never got even slightly bent up at Yoongi, but he saw your face, contorted and agonized. His voice pressed out like a layer of bitter poison. He was on his feet now. “Fucking wake up. She’s dead. She died!”

“She hasn’t died,’’ Yoongi inhaled a deep breath,” She’s alive; I know it!’’

Namjoon shook his head, and before he knew it, his fist had collided with Yoongi’s jaw, sending Yoongi’s head swiveling to the right. He grabbed Yoongi by the shirt. Yoongi didn’t move, barely flinching from the blooming bruise on his face.

“Get it in your head, bastard. I’ve known you for centuries, Yoongi. I cared about her too, but she’s dead. But you know who’s not dead! Your wife. And she’s dying because of you. You want to cause someone else who loves you to die again?’’

“She’s alive, Namjoon! She died, but she’s back. Namjoon, don’t you understand?’’

Namjoon yanked Yoongi up, curling back his mouth to shout some more, but his words died in his throat before they could rise and leave on his tongue. There was a deranged look in Yoongi’s usually composed eyes. Yoongi looked feral, a murderous beast rippling underneath the façade of the weak human he wore, and Namjoon felt his spine curl in chills.  

Namjoon dropped Yoongi back onto the sofa, his chest rising up in rapid heavy breaths, and he shook his head before spitting out his final words.

“You, you’re the one who doesn’t understand. If you don’t get your act together, as your friend, I’ll give you a warning: something will take her away. Whether it be a new suitor or death.”

Namjoon turned to leave, and his hand was on the doorknob when he heard Yoongi’s voice.

“When she died, I made a choice, Namjoon.”

Namjoon didn’t move. His breathing was ragged.

“You ever wonder how I managed to survive this long with most of my power gone? It’s because of her. I made the choice when…when she was bleeding out, I made a pact with the God of life. The God of life knew that I would’ve destroyed that family of bastards and then the world if I had a chance, so he made a deal with me. She would be born as the unloved princess of the same line of people who killed her, but I had to promise that I could not destroy the world. Namjoon, I’m telling you this for a reason.’’

Namjoon turned quickly back, his eyes pinned to Yoongi’s still form on the sofa. He didn’t expect Yoongi to keep talking.

“But we’ve been friends for centuries. You deserve the truth. The deal I made with that bastard wasn’t perfect. When she was reborn, she would be human. Her. She had been so in love with flowers, and now she doesn’t even look at them the same anymore. But God said…,’’ Yoongi inhaled,’’ God said I could have her really back if I was careful. Where she had been stabbed, there’s a mark. If I could make her love me once more and I waited until the Spring Equinox… If I stabbed her through there, I would have my love back.’’

There was a pause to laugh, though it was no laugh of joy. “Isn’t that cruel? I would have to hurt her the way they hurt her. But it’s worth it. It’s worth it if I have a chance to get her back.’’

“Yoongi…!’’ Namjoon’s breath was even more ragged now. Rage colored it. “She’s human. If you kill her, there’s a chance she’ll actually die! That body of hers is human. It can’t contain the power of a deity!’’

“Don’t you think I know that?’’ Yoongi’s voice struck an unruly crescendo, and he finally rose to his feet. Namjoon flinched slightly at the maniacal expression painted in his friend’s once calm eyes. “This is my final chance to bring her back. She’ll never be hurt again! I’ll lock her up in a safe place, my flower, my…my wife.’’

“Don’t you understand what you’re doing is going to hurt her? It’s already hurting her!’’ Namjoon’s voice boomed in a yell, but Yoongi didn’t back down. He was too far now to back down.

“What does it matter? I love her. She’s the same as her, but she’s also not the same. She needs to be completed. The her of now is just a vessel for her true self… And as long as I break it, everything will go back to the way it should’ve been before she decided to trust those mortal bastards over me!’’

There was a tension in the room that couldn’t be swallowed by Yoongi’s increasingly rough breathing. Namjoon’s voice managed to croak out. There was no stability to it, not anymore.

“When you said there’s a reason why you’re telling me this, what is it? You know I’m going to stop you from pulling through with this. She’s dead, Yoongi, and the her of right now is a mortal! She’ll die once more, and what will you do then? As your friend—!’’

“What friend? What friend does a demon even have? And what friend looks at his friend’s wife in that manner, in nearly the same way that I do…! Namjoon, I know you love her.’’ Yoongi’s voice lowered back down to a threateningly calm voice. “And I can’t have that.”

Namjoon steeled himself for a fight, but he was no match for Yoongi. Yoongi was older than him, more powerful than him. He had slain bodies on the battlefield without losing breath. And now, he was going to do the same to Namjoon. Yoongi’s hands wrapped tightly around Namjoon’s neck, and Namjoon choked on a wheezing breath.

Namjoon tried to suck in a shaky breath as his vision splotched. He was a demon. He couldn’t quite die like humans did, but there was an end to all entities, demonic or heavenly, and Yoongi’s power was bitterly overwhelming. Yoongi’s fingers dug into the thin mortal-like flesh of Namjoon, and blood the deep color of ink dribbled out of crescent marks.

“I’ll take into consideration your many years of servitude to me, Namjoon. Your end will be much kinder than the ends of those before you.”

Flowers were peeking through blades of jade-green glass when you finally found yourself outside the rumored garden of the Duke’s first love.

He had gone for the day, and you had bitten the apple of temptation that curiosity had granted you.

You were the duchess; there was no need for you to be so cautious nor feel so guilty. But your gaze darted left and right, careful of any lingering servants, as you pushed your way into the depths of the garden.

Lush flowers greeted you, petals of every shade of the rainbow unfurling and glistening with the morning dew, and you exhaled in soft wonder. The sight was marvelous. The garden was beautiful, and it had been tended to meticulously. The beauty of the garden coupled with the pinpricks of growing despair in your heart as you furthered your way in.

You heard something snap and heard the voices of servants from just outside.

“The Duchess hasn’t been feeling well, hasn’t she?’’ you heard the voice’s echo.

“Ay, it’s unfortunate that the Duke has been too busy to look after her. They used to be so enamored at the beginnin’ of their marriage, but noble marriages…,’’ the responding voice hushed, but you could still hear the last part,” they never really go happy. Especially since rumors been spreading that the Duke still has a first love he can’t forget and only married the Duchess cause she reminded him of ‘er.”

You hurried your pace further in, not wanting to get caught. Your breath hitched, and the agony of those soft words pierced your already aching heart. Your eyes prickled in hot tears. Why, you wanted to scream at yourself as your footsteps quickened and your vision blurred, why were you so weak?

He had treated you so well. He loved you, didn’t he?

Your ankle twisted as your shoe slipped on the wet ground, and you were sent sprawling into the ground, grass and mud staining your dress. You looked pathetic, wet and muddy and close to tears…and then you looked up and made eye contact with the gray statue standing in front of you.

It had been carefully carved in the image of a young girl, holding an armful of flower bouquets—you noticed that the flowers were not made of stone like the rest of her and that they were fresh, as if someone had tenderly made sure to replace them every day—in her arms and beaming widely as her legs raised in a gleeful skip. She looked alive, but most importantly…she looked exactly like you.

From the slope of her nose to the curve of her lips and even to the way her eyes turned up in a playful smile, reminiscent of the naïve you of the past, she was every inch you like you were every centimeter her.

The answer to the previous question rang and echoed painfully in your head: No.

Your tears broke free from its constraints. They dripped down your cheeks like blood drops, and you muffled a sob as the cruel truth dug its blade into your heart and left you painfully bleeding out in a beautiful garden filled with the past’s flowers.

You allow him to embrace you as the waning moonlight slowly aligned itself to match the glowing sunlight. Even when he seemed distracted, and you could tell his thoughts were drifting back to her, you would shamelessly bring him closer to you, spread your legs farther apart and moan more like the whore you were. Anything, you would repeat to yourself, anything to keep him to you.

But if you were willing to do anything for him to love you, why did you find hot tears spilling onto your cheeks as you watched the sleeping him? The moonlight would embrace his skin, light it up like it was alabaster, and you would realize that perhaps the love he had shown you before was like the love an artist gave to a statue: tender but shallow.

Even then, you would lose yourself in your own rosy-painted memories, in which he tenderly cradled your hand and told you how beautiful you had looked the night of the ball. You loved him; you loved him too much.

But why, if you loved him so, did you hide your nausea to yourself? Why did you pick at meals and force yourself to eat them despite the growing urge to vomit? Why did you hide? Did you want to remain eternally beautiful and pure to him, like the innocent girl laughing silently in that wretched garden?

Did he ever love you?

When the hours of moonlight finally clicked to match the hours of daylight, you received your answer.

The moonlight served to guide your clumsy fingers. You were carefully embroidering a delicate lily, though it did not look as lovely as you had hoped, into a pure ivory handkerchief when the door of your shared room with the Duke clicked open.

“My wife.”

His face was solemn as ever, but there was a soft light that glowed in his cool eyes. The tenderness on his face was reminiscent of the kind he used to have for you back in the earlier days of your marriage. You were enthralled, bewitched, and entranced as he took quick paces towards you. He swept you up in his arms, his embrace strong and firm, and the handkerchief slipped from your still figures.

If you had not been immersed in the high of his affection, you would have been despaired over the handkerchief, with its half-finished lily, getting dirty. Your mother, before her death, used to adore lilies. She would smile bittersweetly as the bouquet of lilies delivered from the king dwindled and wilted before smoothing your hair down, her voice dim as she spoke.

“I used to love lilies…They stand for three things: devotion, humility, and…”

The third part seemed to escape your mind, but you found yourself not caring as much as Yoongi’s grip on you tightened.

“My Duke, what are y—?’’ you gasped out in surprise.

His voice cut you off, the sound rough and haggard and…exhilarated.

You felt something in your gut alert you of danger, but you did not care. He was holding you; you melted in his touch.

“My wife, I must ask you a dire question,’’ his voice echoed in the silent room,” Do you love me, my wife…Do you love me?’’

Your response spilled out of your lips as if you were bewitched by a spell. Your words were coated in a pathetic, desperate vulnerability.

“Yes, husband, I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you so much.”

Your breath hitched as his grip strengthened, and your brain was covered in a dizzy haze as you tried to gasp for a deeper inhale of air. He pulled away; you were surprised, briefly, at how cruel his eyes looked in the moonlight despite the warmth exuding from him.

“Good. My wife, I love you. I have a surprise for you, but you must trust me. Hold my hand,’’ he reached his hand out, and your hand was clasped in his iron-cold hand before you could fully process your thought. You blindly trusted him, even when he took out a fine silk ribbon.

It was a beautiful shade of gold, though slightly dirty, but your lips twitched nervously as you noticed small splatters of red dying the fabric. However, Yoongi’s gentle smile never wavered, and like an innocent lamb awaiting slaughter, you closed your eyes and let him tie it around you.

“Perfect. You look beautiful, my wife.”

Your heart skipped a beat. All of the love he had ever shown you before had been subtle. But it poured and oozed out of every word that he had spoken. You were foolishly giddy.

You could feel a slight skip in your step as Yoongi guided you. Step by step, you placed your trust in him. You did not hear any other sound other than the footsteps of Yoongi and you. It was unnerving, almost, the silence in the halls. But even when you heard something squelch, like the carpet had been soaked in some liquid, underneath the wooden soles of your slippers, you did not let your footsteps waver.

You were outside now. Your shoes brushed against grass and grated against stone, and you felt the merciless night wind whip at your hair before slowing down to a gentle breeze. You shivered and sought warmth, but there was no warmth, not even in Yoongi’s hand around yours, outside of the ribbon around your eyes.

“My wife, we are here,” you felt Yoongi let go of your hand, and his fingertips brushed against your cheek as he reached to undo the gold ribbon. The fabric fluttered down, the softness of it remaining on your face as you made petrified eye contact with the statue.

It was her; she held new flowers in her hands. A bundle of lilies sparkled white in the moonlight, and you felt your face go ashy. You remembered the final third meaning of lilies: restored innocence after death.

“Duke…Yoongi, what’s…What’s,’’ you tried to sputter out. Your pupils were dilated from fear, and you did not shake from the cold. No, you trembled from a deep sense of fearful dread. You flung your arms and embraced yourself as the nausea boiled in your gut and rose in your throat like acrid steam.

He got closer to you, and the moonlight illuminated the mania in his eyes and the glint of a blade. There was no calm before the storm; no, this was the storm. You let out a shrill scream and turned to run away.

Your feet tore up grass in your frenzy, but he was the Duke that many had rumored came from hell. He cut down thousands on the battlefield and emerged each time drenched in blood. It was then, as he reached out and grabbed your arm in a callous, bruising grip, that you came to see the monster that lingered in the human shell you had loved.

He shoved you down to the ground, and his voice pitched as he spat out: “The first night that you had died, I had nearly killed them all. I had planned on vengeance, on soaking this damned earth in blood, but I made a deal. The God said if I spared their creation, I could have you back…You would be human, disgusting and impure like the ones who had slain you…but I could change that. Only if I eliminate the stench of humanity from you.”

You scrambled back as he approached and hugged your stomach. You could already feel the sting of the blade, but you still cried out as the blade glinted in his hand.

“Yoongi, I’m pregnant!’’ you kept your eyes firmly on him,” Yoongi, I have your child! Please, please, if you kill me, this child will die!”

The blade in Yoongi’s hand paused as your breath caught in your throat.

His voice was weak and trembled slightly as he spoke. He was so vicious just a second prior, but now he looked ready to collapse. “My…my child…”

You sought to further his hesitation, to save not only yourself but your child too, and it seemed easy enough to begin weeping once more as your emotions soared to a rattled high.

“If you kill me, you kill this child. Our child. You asked me to call you Yoongi when we married,’’ you sucked in a shaky breath,” Didn’t I mean something to you? And if not me, what about our child? I look so much like…so much like her that our baby would surely resemble her too. Please, Yoongi, my husband, please, please, please!’’

His eyes flickered to the blade in his hand and back to the red mark peeking through the neckline of your gown. There was a resolute light that returned to his suddenly brighter red eyes that startled your heart back into a fiercer race in your chest.

No, please, you silently begged him and hugged your stomach.

“We can always,’’ he swallowed, and your eyes stilled in a conflicting hopelessness as he raised the blade back up once more,” When you’re her again, we can always have more children. We’ll have so many, as much as we want; that will be my apology for taking away our first child. You’ll understand…She would understand.”

The blade shing-ed as it pierced downwards through the night towards your chest, and you clenched your eyes shut and tried to shield your unborn child.

The sound abruptly stopped, and you heard a muffled groan accompany a heavy thud against the ground. You peeked open your eyes, and you choked on shock.  

The man before you looked exhausted and you saw broken iron clasped around one of his wrists. There was exhaustion rimmed underneath his eyes, but you saw firm courage in them too.

“N…Namjoon! Namjoon, Namjoon, please, please save my child!’’ you were screaming hysterically, your eyes hazy as you refused to let your arms fall from around your stomach.

He glanced back at you. That courage grew, and you felt wretched as the bitter taste of grief bite at your tongue. You knew what you were asking for was selfish. You had been selfish from the beginning.

You were selfish to want a happy ending. You were selfish to yearn for a family of three with the Duke, your child’s chubby fingers placed in the hands of each parent, and you were selfish to want to not lose someone else important to you either.

“Go…Go…Now!’’ he called out to you. “He’ll get up soon; you have to leave!’’

You stumbled back up on weak legs. Tears rose in your swollen eyes.

“Please, Namjoon, I can’t…,’’ you choked on a ragged sob,” I can’t leave you here!’’

“You have to!’’ his eyes darted back to Yoongi’s collapsed form,” I’ll come back for you. So hurry…Go!’’

“Promise! You have to be safe!’’ At the sound of Yoongi—no, the Duke—getting up from the ground, you forced yourself to kick your shoes off, turn around, and run away. As pebbles and branches bit at your naked feet, you could hear the sound of fighting. Please, Namjoon be safe, you prayed.

When you reached outside of the garden, you heard a loud choked yell of pain and closed your eyes shut as tears bit once more at them. Was…Was Namjoon dead? You looked back into the darkness of the maze-like garden, the darkness even more haunting with the grave silence permeating it, and you felt grief swell in your gut. You were sobbing now, ready to collapse into the unforgiving dirt, but Namjoon was willing to risk his life for you. You could not stop now.

You saw a figure standing outside, blocking the path away from the garden. Though it was dark, you managed to make out who he was as you got closer. His previously youthful and cheerful features were carefully set back in a more aged look. It was the aid that the Duke had hired for you: Jungkook.

“My goddess, the demon has sacrificed his life for you. Though you are human, God had sent me to guide you. The demon king had promised that he would not slain any other life in vain, and with the death of the demon, that promise has been unfulfilled. But God is merciful…They will protect you and your unborn child from danger.”

The aid’s voice was stony, unlike the light tone he had adopted before, but somehow, that very sound relaxed you. You had no one else to trust now and no way to live securely with your child.

The angel extended a hand, just like the Duke had extended his hand out to you while plotting to end your life.

“Will you take my hand, and let me protect you for as long as you may live?’’

You stared at his hand…and shook your head.

“God’s human servant humbly cannot agree to this. I do not need your forever protection, angel. Please, as long as you find a place safe for my unborn child, I will do whatever is necessary, but I am not willing to fully take the hand of a stranger so soon after a betrayal.”

You felt a tinge of a smile at Jungkook’s…no the angel’s lips, reminiscent of the days in which you had once felt happiness.

“God has always given their promises carefully. Not many mortals have ever refused the divine help. Many have even dared to push the boundaries of such promises.”

You placed a gentle hand over your stomach.

“As long as my child is safe, to me that is all that matters. Please, angel, help me once to only fulfill security for my baby.”

“Then, take my hand now. I have never witnessed a human refuse the hand of an angel before. If a devout believer were to witness you, would you not be labelled as a sinner?” the angel’s voice was almost teasing, had the sound not been so dry and flat.

“Labelled with this damned red mark, I have been a sinner the day I arrived on this earth, angel. It seems to be in my lineage to be nothing more than a sinner.’’ You wryly spoke and reached out your hand, finally taking his. You glanced once more back at the garden, blackened by the shadowy darkness and stench of death.

As you left this wretched place, where you had found love and had been destroyed by love, where you had been pushed and grown from the feeble girl of the past, where you had made memories despite how brief its actuality had been, the statue of the girl began to crumble and the bouquet of white lilies in her hand began to wilt, and as dust and crumbled petals fell to the ground, they became stained once more in red.

A/n: It’s finally the end of the main story :’) As always, leave a comment or a detailed review if you enjoyed the story. 

A special chapter from Yoongi’s perspective and an epilogue will be coming (reply with a  👑 if you aren’t on the taglist yet and want to be updated for those parts), and then Lineage will reach its final final conclusion. 

Thank you, and lmk of any mistakes (I never edit sjsjsj)! 

#yandere yoongi #yoongi x reader #yandere bts #bts smut #yandere #yandere lemon #yandere smut #bts fic #bts x reader #yoongi smut #yandere writing #yandere x reader #bts yoongi #yandere fic #bts thriller au #bts reader insert #bts angst #bts fanfiction #duke yoongi #yandere male #bts scenarios

[wakanda-nonsense-is-this]

Ghost of You — Chapter 2

Masterpage <last next>

Pietro Maximoff x fem!Mutant!reader

Warnings: mentions of abandonment, mention of daddy issues, mentions of nausea and dizziness, mentions of hate.

Word Count: 1082

When we arrived it was pretty late. The moon was at its highest point and the only sound came from the air moving the leaves in the ground. I stepped out of the car, Pietro following behind, and looked around with awe written all over my face, as well in Pietro's.

"Let's go inside, your father's waiting for you" Happy said as we followed him out of the car. We reached a big crystal door where Happy typed some sort of code and the door opened after a robotic ''Welcome, Mullet" I looked at him with a raised brow.

"You know how's Tony" he said shrugging. No, i don't, I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue, it isn't Happy's fault, if there's someone to blame it's absolutely not him, Happy was the only one who fought for me.

"I guess" I laughed awkwardly while resting my hand in my neck. Inside the building everything looked the same, white walls, long corridors, white lamps, it reminded me of the asylum where I spend my whole teenage years. The nausea and dizziness those memories gave me were exactly the same as I walked the hallway. I felt Pietro's eyes on me but decided to ignore it. We arrived at the elevator and Happy pressed the button for floor 3. The doors opened revealing a big room. The atmosphere here was different, the walls were some tone of brown, there were plants everywhere and kids toys? Huh, weird, I wonder who they belong to. We stepped into the room and as if I had called his name Tony appeared in front of us.

There he was. He looked the same as the last time I saw him. The same grin, the same eyes, the same hair but this time there was something different. This time, when I looked at him I didn't feel love or admiration all I felt was hatred towards the man who threw me into a prison and called it help. This time, when I look at him I remember the little girl who used to cried for him, who used to eagerly wait for her birthday hopping he would remember and visit her. This time I look at him and I see him for what he really is, a monster.

"You're skinnier" he said surprised. Yes dad, that's what happens when you only get fed once day. I didn't answer, I stood put and I looked at him in disbelief.

"It's been a long time, right? How long has it been? 6? 7 years?"he asked, scratching the back of his neck. I guess I already knew, but it still hurt, seeing how my absence and confinement meant nothing to him.

"12" I answered. He looked confused.

"Wha-"

"12 years. I spent 12 years in that madhouse you sent me to, not 6 or 7, 12." I clarified. I clenched my fist and dug my fingernails into the palm of my hand to try and grasp the little bit of self control I had left before I lashed at him and turned this place into a death anonymous meeting. A while ago I learned that the number of ghosts were dependent of my emotions, meaning if I get mad ghosts start to appear out of nowhere which can lead to a lot of really bad things.

"Not trying to be a party pooper, you know how much I like beef, but this place is starting to look a lot like a public pool" Pietro whispered as thought not trying to disturb the ongoing conversation. I looked around and he was right, we were pretty much reenacting A Christmas Carol scene. I took a deep breath and one by one the ghosts started to disappear.

""Y/n-" Tony started but I cut him. I knew there was no way for us to have this conversation without this place looking like an hotel.

"I'm really tired, it was a long trip." I faked a yawn.

"Yes, of course. Happy will show you to your room." Tony said rapidly, watching you as if looking for something.

***

My room is on the 4th floor. I was told other people lived in the building and that I would therefore share the floor with them, but as it was really late they were all asleep. I bid Happy good night and enter "my room". It was bigger than my room in the asylum and nicer, but it still felt wrong, as if somethings was missing.

"I don't know about you, but this place rocks" Pietro said from the bed in the middle of the room. It was pretty big, king size maybe, and somehow it still looked little on Pietro. My bag was situated near the closet. I opened it and took my pajama out. And as I was walking to the bathroom, his voice stopped me.

"That's why you never told me" he said, his eyes focused on me. He didn't have to specify, I knew what he was talking. If anyone was ever to see through my act, it was him, he sees too much, I hate it. I sighed as I sat on the bed.

"Yeah, I guess I just... I don't know, he abandoned me, you know? In 12 years I never got a damn call from him, it's not really something I like to think about. It depresses me and I have enough shit going on, the last thing I need is to add daddy issues to the list" I explained, while fidgeting with my shirt avoiding his eyes. For a minute none of us said a word, just kept silent.

"Wow, it must suck being you."

That was the last straw, I bended over laughing. He knew exactly what I needed to hear.

"Not as much as yours, you're dead" We looked at each other and started chortling so hard he felt off the bed.

After a few seconds we managed to get ourselves together, but one look at each other was enough for us to start convulsing with laughter over again.

"That's getting old" he managed to say catching his breath.

"But you aren't"

"I definitely just peed myself" he said rolling with laughter which only caused me to cackle with laughter.

This was a new life and it scared me, but I knew in my heart that as long as I had him with me, everything was going to be just fine.

Oh how wrong I was.

#pietro maximoff x y/n #pietro maximoff imagine #pietro x oc #pietro x you #pietro x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #pietro x y/n #pietro maximoff x oc #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff #marvel #avengers x fem!reader #avengers x reader #tony stark x reader #loki x reader

[taeescript]

29+1 (Part One)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother. 

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (taehyung x reader if you squint real hard) 

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin (diva!seokjin)

𝔴𝔠: 3.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: heavy use of alcohol as a coping mechanism, a plethora of sarcasm (please don’t be offended) and a sprinkle of softness (is that a warning?). 

𝔞/𝔫: this sat in my unwritten folder since 2017 no lie. I wrote the premise and a singular paragraph at that time, then just gave up. I opened it a few days ago, got inspired again and this word vomit came out (heavily influenced by a midnight Zoom call with my friends). Ngl this was so much fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. This will probably be in three parts.  𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: I did not know that DailyHive is an actual online news source when writing. This work is purely fictional and has absolutely nothing to do with the real DailyHive. 

part two

Your friends have a saying: After 29, nobody shares their age until they’ve accomplished something. 

In the past, you didn’t understand it. What’s so bad about saying you’re 30 or you’re 32? That’s still a young age! Sure, you’re not exactly in your prime anymore but you’re not old, right?

So, you continue in your own wondrous world of naïveté until that fateful day at your class reunion. You had simply been walking around, minding your own business when you had been stopped by an old colleague.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” she waves you down. 

You smile kindly, not even bothering to try and remember her name (you sucked at names, what could you say). 

“Hey…you!” you chuckle lightly, “How have you been doing?” 

An everyday question leading to catastrophic effects. 

“Oh you know,” she says and rolls her eyes as if you truly did know, “I’ve just been out and about. Did I tell you though? I got married last year!” She holds out her hand in which a giant diamond adorns her finger. “Wow!” you gasp, feigning interest. It’s not that you aren’t happy for her, but you are reminded of just how single you are currently. When was the last time you felt another human’s touch? Does kissing come back as easily as riding a bicycle? “Hey!” she says suddenly, “I’m actually meeting with a couple of friends from our class. You should come join! I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again!” You want to wave her off, but against your better judgment, you find yourself following in her footsteps and listening to her speak about wedding venues and honeymoon destinations.

“Oh my god!” another female voice filters in.

The “couple of friends” this old classmate had mentioned is in fact a fairly impressive size of twenty. This is also the third time the wedding announcement has been made. 

“Last year?” the female continues, “Weren’t you young?”

Yes, you want to respond. Yes she was young. A full 365 days younger than she is now.

Your classmate, Sooyoung (or Kiko as she insists going by now) titters in front of you. “I mean, you can sort of say I’m a late bloomer. I got married when I was 31.”

Her words unintentionally cut into you. Here you are at 29 without a beau in sight. You take a fast swig of your beer and end up hitting the empty glass with a clink to your teeth. Nobody notices.

“Enough about me, however, how about you?”

“I started my own business actually. It’s been doing really well and it’s been a crazy mind. Imagine me, my own boss at only 33!”

You nervously join them when they suddenly laugh together.  

“Hi, can I get another pint please? Actually add a tequila shot to that,” you whisper the last part to the waitress you had just stopped.

And that was how the rest of the night went. People asking one another what they had accomplished. Any moment in time after 30 would not be mentioned until somebody travelled to Uganda to build houses at 31 or another gave birth at the same age. Below 30, anything would be attributed to luck or in your case…

“What are you doing currently?” somebody asks you, “The little baby of our class.”

Swallowing your third tequila shot of the night, you wonder for the umpteenth time how you had become a part of this giant sharing circle. You wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse that you had graduated a little early and thus was younger than most of your peers.

“Well,” you start, “I’m currently working at DailyHive.”

“Ohh!” a man gushes. You recognize him as the once-upon-a-time science partner you used to cheat notes off of. “I use DailyHive nearly as much as Instagram these days. You guys cover everything from news to sports to fashion.”

You shrug. “Yeah. It’s, uh… it’s a pretty big company!”

“What are you doing there?”

Kiko-ex-Sooyoung hits the man teasingly on the shoulder. “Y/N is probably the Director of Marketing or something. Remember how she used to spend all class doodling in her notebook?”

“Or sleeping!” someone quips.

You don’t join in when they all laugh.

“I’m…an intern,” you say with as much pride as you can in a group of established professionals ranging from dermatologists to that one guy who had flown around the world as a TedTalk guest speaker.

A hushed silence befalls everyone.

“That’s…cool!” the same man encourages you, “Interns are totally rad! Everyone wants an intern spot these days.”

His girlfriend pats your arm, almost empathetically. “Yeah. I know a bunch of people who first start off as interns and then they shoot up the ladder quick enough. As long as you’re no longer an intern at 30, you’re golden!”

Once again, the entire group laughs as if she has said the most hilarious of jokes.

She composes herself and says to you, “Because after that, you should have accomplished something.”

Her words still ring in your ears as you sit at your desk this morning.

Yeah…something. All you need to do is accomplish something in the next three months before you are officially, 29 + 1.

Your fingers tap against your thighs silently while you observe the current debate that is occurring in the conference room. You barely have time to sweep the falling hair back behind your ear as your fingers ferociously fly across the keyboard to keep in track with the meeting.

Fei is arguing that the implement of a new search word system would boost users while Daniel says that it is a waste of resources. Instead, everything should be put into updating the entire system as a whole. You have long since lost track of their words as neither pertain to what you do as an intern.

“Enough,” the CEO of DailyHive holds up a hand. His one word causes the entire room to hush over – truly, the words of a god.

And that might as well be what he is. With his hair swept back and a lone tendril curling perfectly above his brow, Kim Seokjin is legitimately a walking god. Off his broad shoulders hang an expensive white linen suit bought with his pocket change and your yearly salary. A pair of sunglasses hangs in the V of the collared shirt dipping low enough to blur the lines between being fashionably professional and just downright sexy.

The snap of his fingers brings you back to the present.

He dramatically rolls his eyes and accepts that you are an incompetent minute-taker.  

“I have to remember that the world just doesn’t move as fast as I do.”  

                                                            - Quote: Rolling Stones 2019 Kim Seokjin.

Now if only he’d remember he had once said that.

He points at each of them with one finger, then swipes to the left. “Both of you, solve this outside. I don’t want to hear your voices any longer. You two from the marketing team, Ungroomed Stache and Acne Chin, create me a report if we are to implement Ms. Song’s idea. The two of you from…” he takes a pause here clearly having forgotten who his employees are, “The two of you do the same thing but for Mr. Hwang.”

The pair from accounting open their mouth to protest that they are in charge of only numbers, but they are ignored.

“All of you out now. Except you,” he points his finger directly at you, “Stay.”

Nobody utters a single word until they have all left and you are left alone with him. Standing before him with your hands folded nicely in front of you, you blink and wait.

He stares right back at you, picks up his coffee mug and drops it. The clatter of ceramic smashing against the ground causes a pause in the loud buzz outside the room. You know everybody’s focus has been shifted into the room.

“Do you want to kill me?” he drawls.

You take a long inhale. “No,” you say.

“No?” he repeats the word, “Well I think you do. Did you check this coffee before you brought it to me? I tasted cinnamon in it. You know how I’m allergic to cinnamon. Get me a new cup. And this mess, get somebody to clean it. I don’t want the smell of coffee in this room when I have my next meeting here in twenty. I’m taking a smoke a break.”

He stands up and brushes past you without saying anything else.

Nobody can be allergic to cinnamon. Besides if he had actually tasted cinnamon and was that sensitive, he would be dead. And good riddance to that.

Of course, you say none of this and wordlessly begin to pick up the broken ceramic pieces of the dead mug. The bustling outside the meeting room has returned back to its normal state of chaos. Seeing the ugly stain of coffee on the once pristine carpet causes you to swear beneath your breath.

“Who the fuck is allergic to cinnamon?” a new voice says, sliding up beside you.  

The second god in DailyHive; the much nicer and evidently preferred Kim; Taehyung takes the mug pieces from you and drops it into the garbage bin.

Blessed with not only intelligence but devilishly model-like features, he is your desk buddy in the small space allotted for interns and your sole friend in the company.

“Tae,” you sigh with exasperation upon seeing your lifesaver, “What am I going to do about this stain? He’s going to return in fifteen and there’s no way I can get a coffee stain out of this expensive-ass carpet.”

Taehyung taps a long finger to his lips, leaves the room briefly, and returns with a roll of Bounty sheets and a can of Febreze. He promptly blots as much of the coffee off from the carpet then proceeds to pull the meeting table.

“C’mon, Y/N, don’t just stand there. Help me! Time is of the essence!”

You laugh and join him in moving the table so that one of the legs cover the stain 80% of the way. Once he is satisfied, he takes the Febreze and sprays until the whole room smells like “Hawaiian Aloha”.

“You’re welcome.” He gives an extravagant bow, the motion popping open the top button of his shirt to expose a surprisingly chiseled chest.

Fei returns back into the room holding a phone to her ear and a clipboard in her left hand. “What the hell? It smells like a Bath & Body Works in here. Intern, aren’t you supposed to be filing or something? Stop standing around and be useful.” She grips Taehyung’s arm and drags him out of the room. “Button up. This is a professional workplace.”

You give him a tiny wave as Taehyung is steered away by his girlfriend and back to the cubicles.

Taehyung may be your saviour at work, but outside, it cannot be denied that your brother is the true Fountain of Life.

A week has passed since the coffee incident (you suspect a cleaning personnel had found the stain and cleaned up after your improv as aforementioned stain can no longer be found), but Jimin still brings it up.

“I still can’t believe that he said he was allergic to cinnamon. I’ve never heard of such bullshit before,” your brother says over the phone. You can practically hear his eyeroll from across the world.

As a renowned ophthalmologist, you have not seen Jimin for close to a year as he has been initiating his new clinic, a flying eye hospital.

“You should hear his Starbucks order. I always feel like I’m ready to launch my next EP whenever I’m at the counter,” you say.

Jimin laughs. There is the muffled sounds of voices as his never-ending flow of patients have arrived for the day.

“I shouldn’t keep you,” you say upon hearing that, “You’re probably really busy.”

“No,” he says, “I’ve got a few minutes if you’ve got a few. I miss talking to my baby sister.”

“I’m not a baby anymore, Jiminie,” you say using the nickname he hated.

“Oh that’s right. Your birthday’s in a little under three months, right? My baby sister is turning the big three-oh.”

“God, don’t remind me.”

“Want me to come visit you?”

You contemplate the idea once, having not seen Jimin in quite a while.

“Only if you have time. But I feel like Mom and Dad would probably want to see you more. Speaking of which, um… How are Mom and Dad?”

“They’re good. I hear Dad is finally going to retire this year. He’s giving his practice to Kibum, you remember him? Mom will probably start pestering us about what to do for his retirement party.”

There is a pause.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to them once in a while.”

You sigh. “And say what? Hey, it’s me. The child that ran away from home at 18? Yeah, I’m not a doctor like everybody else in the family but a 29 year old intern at a popular app company. Whassuuup?”

“Y/N, that’s not what I – ”

“It’s okay, Jimin. I’ve come to accept that not everybody is cut out to be a doctor. I just wish Mom and Dad could realize that.”

Jimin sighs on your behalf. There is the sound of a crying child coming through the earphone. “Well, your contract expires a few weeks after your birthday, right? Who knows, you might be the next Mark Zuckerberg.”

He has never explicitly inquired about your life plan and you know this is as much as he is willing to push without asking, “What’s next after this intern hiccup?” At least he had the decency to compare you to a controversial Internet entrepreneur.

The child is crying much louder now.

“Again with my birthday. But I’ll let you know,” is the only reply you can come up with at the moment. “Okay, brother, go forth and heal the blind. I bless thee in the name of the Holy Spirit, Son and Ghost.”

There is true laughter that rings from Jimin as he ends the call. “It’s Father, Son and Holy Ghost you dweeb. I love you sis.”

“You too.” You hang up first before he can add anything else.

With that, you enter into the 7am Starbucks queue and prepare yourself in running the first single of your long overdue EP.

Seokjin leans back in his chair, watching you from inside his office. Today he has chosen a black turtleneck and a brazen maroon-nearly purple suit jacket to complete the outfit. For once, there is an empty mug of coffee beside him and his morning headache has been appeased.

He knew he had given you an impossible task.

“Compile all the troubleshooting errors we have received since the launch of DailyHive. Organize it in a manner that allows me to identify the most prominent problem. Run it through whomever you please before giving it to me. I don’t need to waste my time correcting your mistakes.”

There is an amused smile that bubbles beneath his otherwise stoic features. He cannot deny that there is, might he dare say, a cute quality about you as you manually scan through the received concerns on your laptop dating back to the initial beta tests – the ones that were lost in a data crash and only backed up with unintelligible scribblings of previous interns.

The moment you had been introduced as the new intern, you had caught his eye. You are exquisitely mundane, and perhaps the reason you had even caught him the first time was due to solely to the fact that you were older than most interns – himself even. Nevertheless, you continue to present him small surprises in your tenacity and capability to tackle challenges.

“Mr. Kim.”

His intercom comes alive with the voice of his secretary.

Seokjin’s eyes do not leave you as he answers.

“Mr. Hwang is on line two. Would you like me to defer him to a later time if you are currently busy?”

Seokjin cannot help but sigh. Hwang Junho, his co-founder, while a genius in international business is also a notorious chatterbox and gossip. There is seldom a reason for Junho to call him except to relay the cover titles of E!Magazine.

“Did he mention a reason for calling?” Seokjin inquires.

His secretary seems to be reading from a note. “He says it’s to do with the company. Something he read from Cosmopolitan this morning.”

So not E! but another sister celebrity gossip blog. He checks his watch and duly notes that he certainly has no meetings scheduled until later in the afternoon where your report would be needed to run a preliminary analysis.

“Sir?”

“Yes, put him through. But tell him I’ve got only five minutes, so he’s better give me the Cliffnotes version,” Seokjin sighs again.

Before he can be connected, Seokjin quickly says, “What’s the name of that intern again?”

“Who?” his secretary asks, “We’ve hired four since the beginning of the year.”

“The one who keeps wanting to poison me.”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” she sounds concerned.

“The one who keeps forgetting that I despise cinnamon.”

There is no response.

“The older one. Spilled coffee a while ago but still has enough coordination to pull together a decent report.”

“Ah,” she says.

He waits patiently as she searches through the database, eventually giving him your name. He gives a slight pause and then says, “Good. Now patch me with Junho.”

There is a momentary buzz as the call becomes connected in which Seokjin turns over the syllables of your name wordlessly.

“Mr. Kim. The man of the hour. How are you, my brother?” Junho’s baritone fills the office in a manner of seconds.

Despite the little annoying quirks, Seokjin cannot help but smile when hearing the voice of his best friend.

“You’ve got three minutes, Junho.”

Junho grumbles. “That’s not my fault. You were the one still on the line with your secretary. Is it still Yerin? ‘Cuz I won’t blame you if that’s the case. Did I catch you doing some naughty phone sex during office hours?”

“Two.”

“Holy hell. Fine. It’s always business with you. That’s why the tabloids are always writing you as an uptight asshole.”

This shifts Seokjin’s attention to the phone. His name is seldomly mentioned except for the features in business columns. He prefers to stay out of the limelight.

“What?”

“Put your name on Google.”

Seokjin does as he is told.

There are millions of results, but the first few pages share the same headline. He clicks on the first one with a grimace.

“Kim Seokjin. Mr. Worldwide Handsome as noted by his fans, has recently sparked Internet outrage.”

A quick skim of the otherwise trashy article brought to the surface a summary: his last dating scandal had ended badly and the repercussions of blowing off a famous celebrity’s daughter had finally caught up with him. The Internet was calling him arrogant, narrow-minded, and even greedy. “The young Chief Executive Officer of booming social media app DailyHive has been accused of using his relationship with actress XYZ to further his own business. Once he gained recognition from aforementioned relationship, he has cold-heartedly cast her away to pursue his next.” “You’re calling me for this bullshit?” Seokjin scoffs. Junho tuts his tongue loudly. “This is not bullshit. It’s affecting the image of your company. Do you think people want to download and support an app that is run by somebody who is being called cruel and dishonest? You’ve got to address this soon before it gets out of control. You’re lucky I have alerts set for these type of things. I caught it for you just in the nick of time.” Seokjin inhales deeply. “You’re also lucky that I’ve got the perfect solution in mind.” “That is?” “The Silver Gala,” Junho references the prestigious event. The Silver Gala is hosted annually and attended by the largest celebrities as well as other wealthy investors and guests. Those in the social circle shared between Seokjin and Junho often yearned for tickets to attend events such as this, as they serve as excellent networking opportunities. Besides the above, such events are circled by reporters and writers of gossip columns to get the exclusive scoop on any eyebrow-raising rumours. “The solution lies in such an event,” Junho continues, “You know how many people will be there. All you’ve got to do is show up with your average girl-next-door type and it’ll show how you’re actually really humble and down to earth. Kim Seokjin is perfectly capable of dating like any regular human being. He doesn’t use “love” or whatever to further his business. Love is the connection between two souls; two individuals who – ” “Beep. Your time has run out Junho. I’ve got another meeting scheduled right this moment,” Seokjin interrupts. “Dude, seriously. Think about it. You could bring Yerin. Everbody loves a good CEO and his secretary affair. And if that’s too juicy for you, I can introduce you to some girls. Or maybe we could go back to our university days and hit a bar, y’know?” Junho tries his best to persuade. “Fuck!” you swear beneath your breath right as you walk into Kim Seokjin’s office. His door had been open and, in your excitement to show your completed report, you had dropped all the loose papers on the ground. Four hours of organization gone, just like that. You hope that at least Seokjin hasn’t heard or noticed you as he had been engrossed in his phone call. Seokjin had in fact noticed you. He can’t help himself but follow the curvature of your bare shoulder as your bangs escape the hold of your scrunchie and sweep across your skin. “Don’t worry, Junho, I’ve just thought about it,” he says with a smile.

#bts fanfic #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin #bts jin #bts seokjin #seokjin fanfic #bts imagine #bts scenario #seokjin imagine #seokjin scenario #ceo!seokjin #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #seokjin fluff #taehyung #jimin #hoseok #jungkook #yoongi #namjoon #fluff

[itskatastrophe-x]

Finally Home (c!Sapnap x Reader)

I let my twitter followers decide who I wrote a oneshot for, and they wanted c!Sapnap, so here it is :) Written in the span of like... Idk 2 hours?? It’s a soulmate AU where you can feel everything your soulmate feels when you get in a certain distance of them and it gets stronger the closer you get to them. I hope yall like it!!

Word count :  2,701

^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^

There it was again. That burning sensation on the palms of your hands. You didn’t understand where it came from or why it was happening, but it hurt like hell. You wondered if it would ever stop, but you doubted it would. You knew the stories all too well but figured it would never happen to you, and slowly your fears confirmed it as all of your friends got theirs and eventually found their person. A soulmate. The way they talked about how they could feel what their soulmate felt on a physical level. They would feel light brushes against their arms or bumps when the other person would be somewhere busy. All of your friends had found their other halves years ago, explaining that when it happened there was a jolt like electricity in their bodies. After all of your friends had abandoned you, you had given up hope in ever finding your person. So you travelled. For miles and miles and miles, seeing every country, village, and kingdom your empty heart desired. You had lost everyone you loved and couldn’t even find your soulmate. 

Then it happened all too suddenly. If you had to guess, it happened when you got within range of the person, so you kept up your pace and travelled. It was an unpleasant sensation. It felt like fire all over your body. At first it was a small stinging, then the farther you travelled, the closer you got to this person, it grew. You would wake up in the middle of the night screaming because of cuts and wounds your other half would experience. You wished it was something as simple as the things your friends had gone through, but this was a nightmare. You wished you could meet this person once and for all just so you could give them a strong right hook to the jaw, then changed your mind as you remembered that you would also feel it. 

You knew by the things you were going through that this person was crazy and potentially dangerous with the amount of wounds this person was accumulating through the weeks of you travelling, so you did your best to be delicate. Whenever you would feel a new pain, you would prepare healing potions and drink them in hopes that the other person would also feel the effects. Either that or, if it didn’t feel like a gash or deep cut, you would trace your fingers over the spot gently to sooth the other person to let them know you would comfort them. What you couldn’t stand, though, was the feeling of fire dancing around your fingers. You eventually learned to tune it out and numb yourself to it, so it wasn’t nearly as bad as it was when it started, but it was still painful and annoying.

Then it stopped as suddenly as it started. For three whole days. Three. Days. After the first couple hours of the first day you started to worry. It was rare that you got a single second of rest from this crazy asshole, but three days? Part of you hoped he wasn’t dead, but the other part was happy you didn’t have to deal with scratches, bruises, and burning. But you missed it so much that you wished the burning in your palms returned. Nothing stopped you from continuing on though, even though you had no idea if you were going the right way anymore or not. You used the pain as a guide for weeks to lead you closer, but when it stopped, you lost your physical compass. Something in your heart told you that you were still heading towards them though, so you kept on, this time faster and without much sleep. You wanted to make sure this person was ok, and fast. You watched all of your friends leave you, you couldn’t have your literal soulmate leave you as well. 

When the third day ended and you were about to fall asleep, you felt it. The smallest little touch to your cheek you had ever felt. It was out of the blue and you had never felt such a touch come from the other person, so it woke you up instantly. You laid there for a moment, the stroking on your cheek so soft and faint that you wondered if it was even the person at all. Slowly, you lifted your hand to your other cheek and caressed it. The feeling on your other cheek stopped, but the feeling of a hand still stayed there. That’s when you knew it was them. They knew you would feel it, but probably weren’t expecting you to return the feeling to them. The stroking started again, so you stroked your other cheek for them as well. Then it hit you. Why had you never thought of it before? After weeks of knowing you had a soulmate out there, it just now hit you. You sat up from your bed in the little hotel you were staying at and tapped your leg. The feeling on your cheek stopped then you felt the same tap on your leg again. You smiled and pressed your hand down for a second and felt more pressure a couple seconds later. 

Then you started. At first it was a smiley face, then letters one at a time to write to the person. You asked their age first. Then you felt the pressure of the person writing back. “20”. You drew yours back, then they drew a smile to confirm they got it. You asked their name. “Nick” they wrote back. Then you wrote yours. You got as much information as you could from this small communication as possible so you could find him easier. After your small exchange, you got up, got dressed, packed your things and headed towards a location called “Dream SMP”. You had seen it on maps before, but it was so far away that you thought you would never get there. You had already crossed oceans, rivers, and mountains for this man, but now you had a new fire to feel. A fire burning so deep in you that it ignited in your eyes. You used all the money and resources you had to get there. You bought boats and horses for the days leading up to your arrival.

After over a month of travelling, you finally made it to the outside borders of what was known as the DreamSMP. The streets were full and bustling with life. Most people smiled and greeted you as a new member, fully accepting you the second you set foot on the land, others scowled or threw hateful words your way, possibly thinking you wouldn’t hear, or maybe they hoped you would so you would leave. You asked around about this person “Nick” and got an overwhelming response of happy chatter and protests of anger, so you left as politely as you could to search on your own. 

You felt like it would take forever to find this other person if all of the streets and businesses would be this crowded and overwhelming, until you came across one man standing at the edge of a river with his eyes closed and a smile on his face. His fluffy brown hair flipped up in the front and slightly waved in the breeze, the colors he wore matching his vibe completely. You approached him cautiously at first, but felt comforted by the aura he gave off. You cleared your throat quietly, so as not to startle him, and he opened his eyes slowly to greet you, the lightest shade of blue you had ever seen. He gave you a soft smile and waved you over, so you complied. 

For a second, you wondered if this was him, but you took note of his soft, clear looking skin and the lack of electricity as you neared him. When you got next to him, he pointed across the river to a very ornate village sitting on the hills surrounded by flower forests. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” You stared in awe at the mushroom buildings and statue and smiled at him. “I’ve travelled a long way to get here and passed hundreds of kingdoms, but this tops them all,” you replied. He made a noise of agreement and smiled, content with your answer. “Well, tell me, new face, how did you make your way to Kinoko Kingdom, and why are you here?” There was no malice in his voice as he asked and you could tell he was being friendly so you knew you wasn’t being standoffish. “I came to meet my soulmate,” you answered. His eyes went wide and met yours, a look of shock on his face. “Th-that’s you?!” You looked at him, furrowing your brows. How did he know? As if to read your mind, he continued. “I knew he was expecting someone, but, wow… I mean… He’s gonna want to meet you now. He literally hasn’t shut up for weeks about you.” You stammered for a second as he grabbed your hand and started running, barely giving you any reaction time to keep up with him. He was fast and energetic and you liked it. He seemed friendly and bubbly and his touch was comforting. 

He weaved in and out of streets and occasional bystanders watching the two of you with wide eyes and gaping mouths. You took it these people didn’t see many new faces, seeing as they were small in numbers. He didn’t slow down until both of you were panting in front of a giant cherry blossom tree in front of the biggest library you had seen. You could hear a loud voice echoing out of the open hole, acting as a doorway. The man next to you put a hand on your shoulder and you looked over at his grinning face. “I should explain before you get in there… My name is Karl and Sapnap, or Nick, is my fiancé. Now before you get worried, we’re in an open, poly relationship and he’s talked to me about all of this and I am 100% welcoming you into our little family.” He gave you a warm smile that reached his eyes so you knew he was being sincere. 

A booming shout broke your thoughts and you felt a pain in your toe that almost made you fall over, then loud laughter erupted. You smiled and shook off your foot as Karl motioned you inside, and that’s all you needed to run inside. The space inside was open with books lining the high walls. There was a staircase to your right, a mushroom in the far back, and a balcony above your head. There you saw him. At first he stood there laughing with the other man in front of him, not realizing you were inside, so you stared. You felt something like fire dancing across your skin lightly as you watched him with wide eyes. He was more beautiful than anyone you had ever seen. He had his jet black hair tied into a messy, low bun at the back of his head, a scar across the length of his face that went across the bridge of his nose. He had a light dusting of freckles across his rosy cheeks and the most piercing eyes. The man in front of him caught onto your stare and nudged the man, pointing down at you from their spot on the balcony. When his eyes met yours, a shiver went up your spine and your skin felt hot, like you were now encased in a cocoon of fire. For a moment you both just stared at each other, not being able to move, until you felt a pair of hands push you gently from behind.

That’s all it took to move you. You took off towards the stairs and took them two at a time as he ran to meet you on the landing. You collided into the biggest hug that knocked the wind out of your lungs and almost sent you flying backwards, but he kept you steady. Your eyes welled up for a moment and you laughed into his chest. He smelled like a campfire, fir trees, and old books. He was so warm and your body fit his so perfectly under his arms. You heard footsteps coming up the stairs and a soft touch to your shoulder, a small hum coming from Karl behind you. “Thank god you’re finally here. Sapnap literally would not shut up. He always talked about how soft you were with him when he knew how hard it must have been for you. Weeks. Weeks.” Sapnap reached an arm out to punch Karl, but he dodged easily since Sapnap still hadn’t let you go. You chuckled and closed his eyes as he put his arm back over your shoulder and squeezed you closer to him. 

“I can’t believe you’re real,” he whispered into your hair. He squeezed him and smiled. “You thought I wasn’t?” He sighed and relaxed his shoulders. “I thought you would hate me. I’m so reckless and get hurt all the time. How could anyone want me if they feel what I feel?” You pulled back to look him in the eyes and you gave him the most genuine smile you had ever had on your face. “You’re stupid. Of course I would be here. And I will stay here. I’ll take care of all your bumps, scrapes, and stabs. The pain means nothing so long as I know you’re ok.” His pointed ears turn a bright red and he averts his gaze to the floor, so you bring your hand to his cheek gently. At first he flinches, but soon closes his eyes, sighs, and leans into your hand, his lip slightly quivering from such tenderness. 

“I do have one question, though.” He hums, not opening his eyes. “Why do my palms always burn? Do you just, like, constantly sit around a campfire?” He chuckles and slowly lifts his head, eyes opening to look at you. He pulls back from you slightly, keeping one arm around your waist as he watches his hand, then back to your face to watch your eyes on his hand. In an instant, his hand is surrounded by fire, the burning in your hand starting up. He must have liked the look on your face because he lets out a snort and then starts laughing, all while you stand there in awe at the power he held. “Holy shit… And… And that’s real fire? Just like that?” You look back at him and he gives you a shy smile and a nod of his head as the fire goes out. There was a sparkle in your eyes that he was absolutely enchanted by and he hoped he would get to see that for the rest of his life. You let out a small huff of amazement and smile brightly. “You are the most amazing person I have ever met,” you say quietly as you watch his features soften as he’s left speechless. 

“Oh get a room,” the guy behind Sapnap says, his voice thick with an accent and sarcasm, the sound of a smile in his words. Sapnap looks at the man and points at him, shooting off a mini fire at him. His shirt catches for a second before the man screams and smacks himself to put it out. You laugh as you watch the exchange and Sapnap looks back at you, thinking of how beautiful your laugh sounds. “Well,” Karl starts. “We have a lot to talk about! Ooooooh this is so exciting! We need to know more about you!!” He grabs both of you and pulls you down the stairs and out to the pond next to the tree out front, the sun finally setting over the hills, casting a gorgeous, fiery glow on your soulmate’s features. You couldn’t wait to see what their life was like. To kiss all of his scars and tell him how amazing he was. To run your fingers through his raven feather-looking hair. Oh how you loved this.

#sapnap #sapnap x reader #c!sapnap #dsmp #dream smp #mcyt #soulmate au #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #x reader #fire #dream #karl jacobs #fiancetwt #fiances #soulmates #george not found #minecraft #reader

[a-simple-gaywitch]

“I’m SO Fired”

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer falls in love with Dave Rossi’s adopted daughter

Word Count: 2038

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of brutal case, mentions of death of parents, that’s it. it’s mostly fluff

“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” -Anton Chekhov

~

Spencer was leaning over Emily’s desk, helping her with some details of her paperwork. He glanced up and noticed a beautiful woman briefly talking to Anderson before entering through the glass doors. 

“Reid. Reid!” Emily said, snapping her fingers to get his attention. 

“What? Oh, sorry.”

Emily shook her head. “And just like that, 187 gets slashed to 60.”

The woman walked over to the desk with the two. “Uh, hi,” you said. “Is Dave Rossi here?”

“Oh, um, he should be here. Did you- do you have a meeting with him?” Spencer asked. 

“Kind of,” you said with a small laugh that made Spencer’s stomach flutter. “I’m-”

“(Y/N)!” Hotch said when he saw you. 

“Aaron!”

Emily and Spencer exchanged glances as you gave Aaron a brief hug. 

“Are you here to see your dad?” he asked you. 

“Yeah, is he here?”

“He should be in his office. How long are you in town?”

“Just the weekend,” you said. “But I’m coming back in June for vacation.”

“Well, I’ll let you go see your dad,” Hotch said. As you walked up the stairs, he turned to see Spencer gawking at you. Emily looked at Hotch apologetically. Hotch sighed and said, “Reid, focus on your paperwork, not (Y/N) Rossi.”

~

You knocked on the office door, waiting to hear your father’s voice. 

“Come in!” You pushed open the door and your adoptive father’s face lit up. “Tesorina!” he said, getting up to kiss your cheeks. “I was wondering when you were getting in. How’s work? And what about that boyfriend of yours? Anything-”

“Dad,” you said, cutting him off. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know at dinner. But you promised you’d introduce me to your team the next time I was in town.”

“I did promise that, didn’t I?” he said, pushing up from his desk. He slung his arm around your shoulder and steered you out of his office. The team was gathered in the bullpen, and they all turned to face Rossi when he cleared his throat. “Guys, this is my daughter, (Y/N).” He then introduced each team member to you, save for Aaron.

“Wow, Rossi, I didn’t know you even had a daughter,” Morgan said. 

“Gee, Dad, you don’t talk about me to your coworkers? I’m hurt,” you said, pressing your hand over your heart. 

Rossi rolled his eyes. “Drama queen.”

“So, you’re a Rossi?” Emily asked you. 

“Not biologically. Dave adopted me when I was five,” you explained.

“Initially, I was just fostering her for a little while, but I fell in love with this little rascal,” he said, ruffling your hair.

You set about fixing your hair. “Well, I gotta run. See you at the house for dinner?”

“Yeah, I should be done around 6. Don’t get into trouble.”

“Me, get into trouble? When have I ever been known to do that?” You shot a wink at the man you now knew to be Dr. Reid before leaving the BAU.

Spencer’s cheeks turned pink and he felt Rossi’s eyes on him. He looked down at his desk, busying himself with organizing his pen cup. When he heard Rossi’s office door close, he let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. 

Derek rolled his chair over to Spencer’s desk. “You’re looking a little flushed there, Pretty Boy. That wouldn’t have anything to do with Ms. Rossi, would it?”

“Shut up, Morgan,” he muttered, focusing on folding a small piece of paper on his desk into even smaller squares.

~

Dave walked into his house (mansion) to the smell of garlic bread and tomato sauce. He smiled and set his coat on the rack by the door. 

“You know, I would have cooked!” he called as he made his way to the kitchen. You were setting the table for the both of you. 

“Yes, but how often do you actually cook?” you asked him as you poured two glasses of red wine. “You’re always away on cases, I know how much fast food and takeout you eat. Now shut up and enjoy my carbonara.”

Dave chuckled and sat down at the table across from you. “So, how’s work going?” he asked you. 

You shrugged. “You know, there’s good days and bad days. We had a brother and his little sister get adopted together this week, which is always one of the big wins for us.”

He nodded. “What about that boyfriend of yours, Chad?”

“Oh, we broke up,” you said. “About a month ago.”

“Good, I didn’t really like him.”

“Dad, you say that about every guy I date.”

“And it’s true, I haven’t liked any of the guys you’ve dated.”

“Yeah, the only guys you’ve liked have been the ones you’ve tried to set me up with.���

“That’s not true!”

“Dad, remember Stephen?”

“I thought you would be a good match, honest. And before you say it, it’s not just because I’m overly protective.”

“So, we can admit you’re overprotective of me?” you said. 

“Of course I am. And can you blame me?”

“I guess not,” you said with a shrug. “And you could be worse. I could still be living here.”

“Oh, come on. Would that be so bad, having a huge house mostly to yourself?”

“Well, no, but I like living in Pennsylvania,” you said. “And I like having an apartment.” Your father gave you a skeptical look. “Stop profiling me.”

“Sorry, it’s hard to turn it off.” He took a sip of his wine. “You’re planning to go to the cemetery tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“I do every year, you know that.”

“Yeah. They’d be so proud of you, you know.”

You smiled down at your plate and pushed the pasta around. “I know. I, uh, I don’t have many memories of them anymore,” you said. “But the one I’ve been trying to get rid of is still there.”

Dave reached across the table and grabbed your hand. “Hey. Your parents loved you, so much. That’s all you need to remember, okay? They loved you so much that they sacrificed themselves for you.”

“Yeah.”

You lost your parents when you were five. There was a serial killer in the Greater DC Area, a family annihilator. He’d called himself the Orphan Maker. The man would seek out young families with kids no older than 8 and kill the parents first, in front of the children. Then he would kill the children. 

Rossi had been on that case, and had found that your family was the next target. Unfortunately, they did not get to your family before the man killed your parents. But fortunately, they caught him before he could get you. 

Rossi felt guilty they didn’t make it in time. When the law officers found that you didn’t have any family to take you in, Dave offered to bring you home. The plan was to originally just be a foster parent to you until CPS found a place for you to stay officially. But he fell in love with you. You were a little spitfire, a little troublemaker. Dave adopted you and dedicated the rest of his life to taking care of you and protecting you.

~

“Hey, Rossi!” Morgan said as he met the man in the kitchen to get coffee. “How was your weekend with (Y/N)?”

Rossi noticed Reid’s back straighten at the mention of (Y/N)’s name. He smiled to himself, a plan forming in his head. It was a bit of a convoluted plan, but it would work out for everyone in the end. 

“Oh, it was fine. She made me watch an episode of that show Reid and Garcia like.” He glanced over at Spencer’s desk and noticed he was listening intently. “I agreed since she’s still recovering from a recent breakup.”

“Is she okay?” Derek asked. “I know breakups can really suck.”

“She’ll be okay, she bounces back quick. I didn’t like the guy anyway. He was a meathead jock who thought being the high school quarterback was his entire personality. I want her to find a guy who’s smart and kind, someone I like.” He walked out of the kitchenette and passed Reid’s desk. He clapped his shoulder. “Morning, Reid.”

~

You were back in the area for a week-long vacation, and Dave had promised to go sight-seeing in DC with you. 

You walked into the bullpen and were greeted by Penelope, who had quickly become your friend. She wrapped you in a hug before Rossi made his way over to you. 

“Hey, Dad. You ready to go?” you asked after giving him a hug.

“Um, actually, I have to work late. But, you know, Dr. Reid here,” Spencer’s head snapped up from where he was packing his bag at the mention of his name, “knows more about the area than anyone I know. He can show you around. Right, Reid?”

Spencer looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure.”

You smiled at him and Spencer felt the butterflies that were already in his stomach go crazy. The two of you walked out of the office, Spencer nervously gripping the strap of his bag while you walked alongside him. 

Penelope looked at Rossi narrowing her eyes. “You don’t have to work late.”

Rossi smiled. “No.”

Penelope gasped. “You’re trying to set them up, aren’t you?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny,” Rossi said before walking back to his office. 

~

“So, Dr. Reid,” you said as the two of you walked out of the FBI building, “I heard you’re a huge Doctor Who fan.”

Spencer turned to look at you, losing his footing and tripping on the sidewalk. He straightened himself up and cleared his throat. “You, uh, you can call me Spencer. And yeah, I’m-I’m a fan.”

You smiled and Spencer thought the sun had come out again with the brightness you radiated. “Who’s your favorite? Personally, I’m a Tennent girl, but Baker is a close second.” Spencer was staring at you, his jaw dropped. “What?”

“You might be the hottest girl I’ve ever met.”

~

When Spencer woke up, the first thing he noticed was the beautiful woman asleep next to him, her head on his bare chest. He smiled and ran his hand through your hair as you started stirring.

“Morning,” he said as you looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest. 

“Morning, Pretty Boy.” You saw his smile falter and his eyes go wide. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so fired,” he said. “I slept with my boss’s daughter. I’m so fired. No, I’m more than fired. I’m dead. Rossi is going to kill me.”

“Hey. Spence, breathe,” you said, cupping his face in your hands. “He’s not going to do anything to you. And if he tries, he’ll face my wrath.”

Spencer chuckled. “Well, after that guy drove through that puddle and splashed you last night, I believe it.” He was silent for a moment as the two of you sat up in the bed. Spencer wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back to his chest. “What are you going to tell him when you go home?”

You shrugged, leaning your head back. “The truth. I got to know a sweet guy last night and I stayed the night at his place.”

Spencer smiled and gave you a soft kiss.

~

You slipped into the Rossi Manor, feeling like a teenager missing curfew again. You got about halfway through the kitchen before hearing Dave clear his throat. You spun around to see him standing by the kitchen island with a cup of coffee. 

“Oh, uh, morning, Dad.”

“So, you were out all night.”

“Yep.”

“And you’re wearing the same clothes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Who is he?” When you didn’t answer, he said, “Spencer?”

Your face paled. “How did-”

“You didn’t really think you could hide that from an old profiler, did you?” He handed you the mug. “Don’t worry, I approve. I’d be more than happy to have Spencer as a son.”

“Dad!”

~

“I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.” - J.R.R. Tolkien 

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #x reader #rossi!reader #criminal minds #em's fics

[supercap2319]

The Prince and The Fairy

Pairing: Sky x Male Reader

A/N: This my first time writing x reader stories, so hopefully it’s not too terrible to read.

Y/N sighed as he watched kids his age walk around the courtyard knowing their intended destination. Y/N had no idea where he was supposed to go, and it was making him impatient and anxious.

He checked his phone for any missed messages. He had gotten one from an unknown number that said:

Meet Sky @ Alfea Gates

Now all Y/N had to do was find this ‘Sky’ character, and he could show him around the school. Simple right? If only it were. There were about a thousand students here, so anyone of them could be Sky. How would Y/N know which person was him?

Y/N pulled the red jacket Bloom had given him for his birthday tighter around his body. It was something they had always done. They’d get each other gifts with the other's favorite color. Y/N’s was blue, and his sister's was red.

Speaking of his sister, she was supposed to be joining Y/N today, but had gotten sick. Bloom would start at Alfea next week, so hopefully, Y/N could survive a week without his big sister. He wasn't so good with talking to people, especially people he didn't know, so making friends would be challenging.

Deciding to man up; Y/N chose a direction and headed towards it. Unbeknownst to the H/C young boy, he was being watched by another boy with blonde hair and blue eyes. He had been chatting with another student, but decided to follow Y/N instead. The blonde guy pushed past the brunette boy in the lettermen's jacket and walked towards Y/N.

“Wow. You are so lost.” Y/N turned towards the voice beside him, and saw it belonged to a handsome blonde guy with blue eyes. He wore a brown leather jacket over a pink shirt. “I'm impressed with your confidence in the face of complete ignorance.”

Y/N frowned at that. He wasn't ignorant. Just a little bit lost, that's all. Anyways, who died and made this guy king?

Y/N wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he just kept walking, and the guy just kept following and talking. “Issue is, you’re overcommitted,” the blonde explained. “I mean you're essentially running.”

Y/N stared at the taller boy wondering if he really loved the sound of his own voice. If Y/N was running, then this guy was ranting.

“And now that I'm here, you can't give me the satisfaction of turning around…”

“I don’t need help, but thanks,” Y/N said, interrupting the guy’s speech, before walking away from the blonde-haired blue-eyed boy.

The guy chuckles at that. Like what Y/N had just said was amusing, or something.“I don’t remember offering it.”

Y/N could sense that the guy hadn’t said it to be mean. He was just trying to hide his embarrassment. Y/N turned towards the blonde waiting to see what he’d say next.

“So presumptuous,” blue eyes said with a grin.“You must be a fairy.”

“You know where I come from that would be considered offensive to some people,” Y/N told him.

“And what realm are you from?”

“California.”

Blues eyes frowned a bit at that, obviously never heard of California before. It was kind of cute the way he made his face. Like a lost puppy or something.

“Oh, you're not from the Otherworld?” Blue eyes asked.

Y/N shook his head. “I’m not,” he confirmed.

“If you want your mind blown, three months ago I didn't even know the Otherworld existed ” Y/N said. “Kind of like Narnia, or Hogwarts.”

“Oh, are those places in your realm as well?” The blonde boy asked.

“Only at Universal Studios,” Y/N chuckled.

Obviously not getting the joke, the blonde guy decided to change the topic. “Um...if you are lost,” the guy began, before quickly adding “which I'm not saying you are, and you need my help, which I'm not saying I'm offering…”

Y/N chuckle at the blonde’s nervous rant. “Man, you like to talk when you're nervous don't you?”

Instead of answering the blonde blushed a bit, before turning around and pointed towards a big building. “This is the Specialist Hall.” Blues turned around and pointed to the building behind Y/N. “The Fairy Hall is that way,” he finished.

“Oh, the Specialist Hall. Obviously,” Y/N said sarcastically.

The blonde boy grinned. “Hm.”

Y/N giggled. The guy looked really handsome when he grinned like that. It made Y/N's heart skip a beat. It was a weird sensation, but he’d only ever felt warm towards his sister and his parents. Being around this guy made Y/N want to open up.

Across the yard, a blonde girl in expensive clothing watches the flirty banter between the two boys. She frowned at the sight, obviously not pleased.

“And I definitely know what a specialist is,” Y/N said, still grinning like a dork at the gorgeous blonde boy.

The blonde rubbed the back of his neck, still smiling. “Right. Sorry, I’d be happy to-”

“-Mansplain it?” Y/N guessed.

The guy shook his head. “No.” He smiled.

“Sure.” Y/N teased.

“Kinda seems like your thing,” Y/N told him.

The blonde licked his lips, and Y/N tried not to shiver at the sight, as the other boy opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by another boy’s voice.

“Quit perving on the first years.”

Y/N and blue eyes turned towards another boy with short brown hair. He wore a gray shirt, and a black leather with a gray hoodie.

“Riv, just give me a one second. Yeah?” Blue eyes asked the other boy. Y/N got the feeling they were friends.

“Why? You gonna chase him?” The brunette boy asked, nodding in Y/N direction.

Blue eyes turned to Y/N with a smile. Not wanting to get in the middle of friends; Y/N thought it’s best to end this meet and greet, and find his tour guide. “Well, it's obvious you guys have a lot to catch up on so, I guess I’ll leave you guys to it,” Y/N said walking towards the Fairy Hall.

“Wait!” Blue eyes called out.

Y/N turned, and was met with an outreached hand. “I’m Sky by the way,” Sky said.

Y/N stared at Sky in shock. What were the chances of him meeting a hunky blonde, who just so happens to be the person to show Y/N around. “Wait. Your Sky?”

“Yes, why?”

“My name is Y/N Peters. The person you're supposed to be meeting today.”

Sky grinned widened when he realized that Y/N was the person he was supposed to show around school. “Well, I guess I better do my job then.”

Sky turned to Riven. “I'll see you later Riv, after I help Y/N here.” Sky placed him around Y/N, and led him towards the fairy hall. The shorter boy blushed at the contact, and hoped Sky wouldn't notice.

Riven watched his best friend and the new kid walk towards the fairy hall, a smirk on his face. He had known Sky for years, and never thought that he’d be interested in guys. Not that he had a problem with it. He’d screwed both guys and girls, but preferred chicks more. The way that Sky looked at Y/N Riven could tell he liked him.

Stella was gonna have a fit!

#sky x male reader #fate winx saga #sky fate #winx fate #x male reader #writers on tumblr #why did i even write this

[hobidreams]

may 1869.

just this once, you let yourself be a little braver.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: smut, angst, fluff? words: 1.4k contains: someone new, something new.

moonlit throne index. this is drabble 20. start from the beginning?

A balmy wind drifts through the open window of your bedchamber, making ripples upon the freshly made spread. You stand in sunlight before the mirror, tracing the faint remnant of the bruise on your collarbone, left by the king’s hungry mouth too many nights before, and wish absently that the mark will stay for at least a few hours more.

As the days grow longer, his visits have become far less frequent, though the minutes he spends indulging in your heat seem to extend ever so slightly in turn. The explanation that leaves your heart intact is that he is occupied by overseeing the administration and results of the national civil exam, the gwageo that took place a few days ago and will bring a new group of eager scholars into the palace. You try very hard not to think about the possibility of his finding his way to another woman’s bed, even though he is well within his rights to. Even though it is expected of a king to have handfuls of consorts in his court. He has, thankfully, spared you of such truths, like he continues to spare you of any details about his life. Theoretically, that makes it easier to not get so attached. Theoretically.

With an exhale, you re-adjust the collar of your blouse to hide the mark and put on your hat before stepping out into the sun, holding a book that you intend to return to the king’s library.

As you walk towards the building, you soon realize there’s a man you’ve never seen before in green scholar’s robes in front of the shuttered doors, pacing back and forth as the dark samo on his head bobs from the effort. What’s he doing? While people may pass by here, they rarely linger.

When the man spots you, his gaze seems to brighten. “Excuse me, uinyeo-nim!”

You come to a stop before him, taking in the wane of his eyes that are like friendly crescents. “Good morning. How may I help you, Scholar…?”

“Park.” He smiles. “I’m one of the newly admitted scholars.”

“Scholar Park. Congratulations on passing the exam.” You return his smile with a small one of your own though you remain on your guard, no matter how kind he seems. Most of the current scholars treat you with disdain (though they at least attempt to veil it on the king’s account, you are certain), as you are a woman and thus beneath them, no matter if the texts you’ve read could rival theirs. This Park must be brilliant though, if he passed the rigorous exam at such a young age.

“Thank you. I’m excited to begin my work! But…” He bites his lip. “The head scholar asked me to obtain a copy of Bang Si-Hyuk’s latest text, and the royal library said that only the king has a copy…” His expressive face falls and you, with a twinge of endearment, think he might be an awful liar if he ever tried. “Would you happen to know how I might borrow from the private library? Should I request an audience with the king? Are there official forms to follow? I really don’t wish to misstep.”

You stare at him quietly, contemplating whether or not you should reveal that you have such access.

He nervously seems to take your lack of answer as confusion. “Yes, I am aware that I should have asked my fellow scholars but they are all so much older than me and I’m afraid that they will take me less seriously than they already do if I cannot complete such a simple task on my own... But no one else has walked by here and I do not want to go back empty-handed and…” He trails off, giving you a look of absolute desperation that warms your heart, despite your reservations.

“Scholar Park. I can retrieve the book for you, if you promise to return it within a few days.” The king wouldn’t notice that it’s missing anyhow, not with how busy he’s been. That, and you get the feeling that the older scholars have been playing a bit of an initiation joke on this poor boy.

“Really? You will? Thank you, uinyeo-nim!” He breaks into a huge grin. “Oh, but uinyeo-nim, how do you have access to the king’s libra…”

You can practically see the moment it clicks in his mind that you are that physician, the one who’s name is irrevocably tangled up with the king’s.

It seems palace gossip is not exempt even from those who have only entered the grounds the day before. You can literally feel the turmoil going on within him as he tries to figure out how to address you, whether or not he should give you the respect of the king’s consort even though you are technically not one in the slightest. Just a lowborn, a hole, even a witch doctor that has bewitched jeonha, as those less polite than this boy have put it when they thought you were out of earshot.

“Hm?” You prompt like a masochist, wanting to see what he says. Wanting to see if it’ll hurt you some more, or if you’ve finally gone blissfully numb.

“N-Nothing, uinyeo-nim.”

You were right. He’s an awful liar.

But you get the book for him anyway, and see him off with promises to meet you back here two days later for the return. Your reality is none of his fault, after all.

That night, the king drops by with little decorum. Opens the door to your chambers and strips off his robes, like he always does. Though this time as he kneads your bare chest in his calloused fingers, pinching the peaked nipples so hard you whimper, you are filled with a need for some scrap of certainty. You want to wipe that coolness from his eyes for even one second, to stoke some intimate fire from him that says he still remembers how you used to be together. How it used to be easier than this. Closer, even though now you know how thick his cock feels as he robs you of air.

“You—ah—you’ve been busy, jeonha?” It’s been getting marginally easier to talk to him like this in the moonlight, his hands making a mess of you. “It’s been quite some time since you’ve come.”

“What, are you that needy for a fuck?” He smirks, but it’s a look more dark and dangerous than playful as he reaches down and finds you soaked. You think you feel the ghost of that word lingering around his question, but it is a small blessing that has not said it aloud since that night in April.

Your face flushes hot. “I-I was just wondering…” You shouldn’t mention it. You really should hold your tongue, but you’re sick of being trapped in your own mind, going in circles with your own insecurity. Just this once. Just this once you want to let yourself ask— “I thought… That perhaps you had taken another conso—oh!” You’re cut off by an abrupt inhale as he sinks two nimble fingers into your cunt. One smooth stroke takes him so deep, only for him to pull out to use the translucent wetness he’s gathered as lubricant along his shaft.

“You think I have time for other women?” He snaps. His stare is intense, but you can’t see a single lie in their depths. “Never have.”

Then he takes you so roughly, you think the bed might break from all the rattling. You have to blink away white spots in your vision when you come and he doesn’t say much more to you for the rest of the night, but you’re smiling almost deliriously all the way through with your nails scratching faint red down his back, the bracelet he gave you dragging over his skin from its home on your wrist. Never, your mind echoes, again and again.

Against all the odds. Against anything you would have expected. Even if he keeps you at arm’s length to the thoughts in his heart, it’s still the chance three-step skip of a grey stone across a rippling pond.

You’re the only one.

a/n: wow. drabble 20. it’s taken us half a year to get here & it honestly feels like a dream that i’ve made it this far. yet there is still so much on the line. so much further to travel together. thank you, if you’ve been here since the beginning. thank you, if you’re just picking up the series 💜 please do come let me know your thoughts on the series as we slide into the present time, with all the tension of the past lingering too closely by. i truly couldn’t have gotten here without all your support ♡

#ficswithluv #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #historical au #moonlit throne #rain writes #how are we feeling about the new scholar? ✨