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believemedarlin · 4 months

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The Perfect Man

Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader (3.9k words) Also available on AO3

Summary:

“You know, if you combined all the men on the team… they’d make the perfect man.”

“What?” Emily sputtered into her wine.

Penelope giggled while JJ looked intrigued

***

A drunken night out with the girls leads to some interesting revelations.

***

“Let’s play Fuck, Marry, Kill.”

A round of groans sounded from the table, but Penelope Garcia was not to be dissuaded.

“Come on, ladies. It’ll be fun!”

Her best puppy dog eyes firmly in place, Penelope implored her friends and coworkers with a practiced look. You were holding strong until she brought out the big guns and pouted at you.

A mere ten seconds later you caved.

“Okay, fine,” You sighed. “But can we use kick instead of kill? I always hated that option. Why do you have to kill them when kicking would be just as effective in showing your lack of interest? No death required.”

“Ooh, I like that,” Penelope immediately agreed with a nod. “You know I’m a pacifist at heart.”

She turned to the other two women seated at the table, pout back in full force. JJ gave in first, patting Penelope’s hand with an indulgent smile and a nod.

Seeing that she was outnumbered, Emily shrugged. “Sure. But I’ll need another drink if we’re doing this. I haven’t played this since college.”

“I’ll get us all another round.” Penelope jumped to her feet to join her and they made their way to the bar, weaving through the other patrons.

It was a rare Friday night off and the women of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit had decided to go out for a much-needed night of ladies-only fun and frivolity. They had happily left the guys to sort out their evenings and escaped the second the clock struck five.

They were all a few drinks in at this point, which is most likely the reason Penelope had suggested the game. She always got a bit playful when she drank.

They returned a few minutes later, fresh drinks in hand.

Once settled, Penelope leaned in, an eager smile on her face. “Okay. Fuck, Marry, Kick. Henry Cavill, Ben Barnes, Zachary Levi. And go!”

Emily took a sip of her drink and wasted no time in voicing her choices, followed by JJ and you. You took turns coming up with more and more outlandish options, and pleasantly spent the next hour drinking and laughing with your friends.

You had just finished giggling over Penelope’s reasoning behind her choosing to kick Willy Wonka and marry Jareth the Goblin King so she could enjoy a night with Conan the Barbarian when Emily leaned in with a smirk.

“I’ve got a good one. Hotch, Morgan, and Reid.”

The table erupted in a chorus of ooohs and laughter.

JJ bit her lip in thought. “Okay, since we know them personally and I’m a happily taken woman, I’m going to change mine to kiss, because it’s weird to say I want to fuck any of them. So, uh, I’ll go with kiss Morgan, marry Reid, and kick Hotch. But only barely, because I do not want him angry with me.”

“Easy,” Penelope chirped. “Fuck Morgan, marry Morgan, and kick Reid and Hotch.”

You, JJ, and Emily burst into laughter, with JJ swatting Penelope on the arm. “You can’t double up like that!”

“Can too! My game, my rules. Besides, it’s special circumstances with Morgan as an option.”

Emily snorted, then grinned. “Hmm. I think I’d go with fuck Morgan, marry Hotch, and kick Reid.”

All eyes then turned to you as you stared into your drink, taking entirely too long as you overthought the options.

Eventually, Emily cleared her throat and you looked up to see her watching you expectantly.

“What?” You grinned sheepishly with a shrug. “It’s harder than you’d think!”

The ladies teased you good-naturedly until you finally said, “Okay, okay! Um, I think…”

You blew out a breath in a long sigh. “Fuck Reid, marry Hotch, kick Morgan. No wait… Maybe fuck Hotch, marry Reid?”

Emily and JJ cackled while Penelope put on a fake offended air. “Why you gotta kick my beloved cinnamon hot chocolate Adonis not once, but twice? He’s the perfect man!”

"I mean, a lot of women would think that, yeah, but not me.”

Penelope gasped and pressed her hand to her chest dramatically. “Why, I never.”

You giggled with a shrug. “Sorry?”

“You’re forgiven.”

“What I want to know,” JJ chimed in with a mischievous grin, “is why you can’t decide between Reid and Hotch on who to marry?”

You buried your face in your hands to hide your blush. “I don’t know! Both seem like solid choices. I think they’d both make good husbands.”

Emily smirked. “Sure it wasn’t because you couldn’t decide which you’d rather fuck?”

Penelope and JJ burst into laughter again while you groaned into your hands.

“You all are menaces. I don’t know why I spend time with you.”

“Because we’re wonderful people and you love us.” Penelope teased.

“That’s debatable.” You mumbled.

“Oh, come on,” she leaned into your side and laid her head on your shoulder. “You know you adore us.” Penelope batted her eyes and you couldn’t help but grin.

“Yeah, I do.”

She cheered and called for another round of drinks.

The game wound down and devolved into a rather extensive list of men and women that each of the ladies wouldn’t mind enjoying some personal one-on-one time with.

You had been sitting in a comfortable silence for the past few minutes, chin in hand and elbow on the table, your mind pondering on something Penelope had said earlier. Your voice took on a contemplative tone as you mused aloud, “You know, if you combined all the men on the team… they’d make the perfect man.”

“What?” Emily sputtered into her wine.

Penelope giggled while JJ looked intrigued.

“Okay, just hear me out. Now, granted, everyone’s idea of the perfect man is different but for me… If we go by physical attributes first, you have to admit that each guy is objectively attractive on their own. I mean seriously, was it a prerequisite that everyone has to be outrageously good-looking to be a member of the team?”

The ladies heartily agreed with laughter and nods, but you gestured across the table to them. “I’m including you three in this too. Have you looked at yourselves? You’re all absolutely gorgeous.”

“Damn right, we are,” Emily exclaimed as she high-fived JJ.

You raised your glass to her and took a sip before expanding on your premise. “So by themselves, each man is handsome but combined…”

You tilt your head in thought. “For me, it would be Reid’s hair. I’ve always liked longer hair on a guy and have you seen those curls when he lets it grow out? And then add in Hotch and Rossi’s dark hair and … yeah. Next would be Morgan and Rossi’s facial hair. I don’t know about you ladies but I like a man with a bit of scruff, you know what I mean? Goatee or full beard or just a couple of days growth, hell even a good five o’clock shadow, as long as it’s maintained and not all scraggly, I like it. Oooh, remember when Hotch came back with a beard?

“Yeah,” you sighed, a bit more dreamily than you had intended, surely caused by the late hour and not the memory of a casually dressed, bearded Hotch. “Like that.”

All three ladies shared a knowing look, but you paid them no mind.

“Though there is something to be said about a freshly shaved face. It’s so soft…” You sighed again.

“And then there’s height.” You knew you were rambling, but with the alcohol fueling you, there was little chance of stopping you now. “They’re all at least 6 foot so the height difference is perfect for both cuddles and forehead kisses.”

At this, Emily snorted. “Forehead kisses?”

“Yes,” you snipped primly. “They are the pinnacle of non-lip-to-lip kisses and they are my favorite thing. They just make you feel so adored. Now shush.”

You shooed her and rested your chin back in your hand. “Let’s see… Eyes. Honestly, I think they all have lovely eyes. I’m not picky on eye color really but I think Hotch’s stand out the most to me. I mean, have you seen his eyelashes? It should be criminal for a man to have such beautiful eyelashes.”

Another round of nods and hummed agreements sounded from the table.

“You know,” you continue with barely a pause, “I’ve never been a fan of really buff dudes, which sorry Pen, but that’s kinda why poor Morgan got kicked twice.” You shrugged unapologetically at her.

“I’ve always preferred lean guys. Not scrawny but not bugling out his shirt, you know? Strong but not shoved in your face. But!” You sit straighter in your chair, index finger raised to emphasize your point. “That’s just looks. Personality-wise, I’m drawn to kindness first and our boys all have that in spades. And they each show it in different ways, but it’s always present.”

You met Penelope’s eyes. “And Morgan’s kindness absolutely overrides his excessive muscle mass. He’s honestly one of the kindest people I know, even if he’d deny it. He’s not humble about a lot of things, but he is about that.”

Your eyes dropped to the table as your finger ran along the wood grain. “I also like intelligence and while yes, first thoughts go to Reid, the others are all brilliant too. Like, Rossi is so wise! It seems like he always knows what’s going on with someone before anyone else, and always seems to know just what to say just when you need to hear it. And they each have strengths that I admire. I genuinely like each of them as a person and I’m proud to know them and am honored they consider me a friend. Honestly, I feel that way about all of you.”

“Aw!” Penelope sniffled. “That’s so sweet. We love you too, you know.”

You gave her hand a quick squeeze and took another sip of your drink.

“What about lips?”

You blinked at JJ. “Lips? I’m not sure. I don’t know that I look at them much.”

Emily tilted her head. “You seriously don’t look at men’s lips?”

“Not really? I mean, I notice smiles. And honestly, how did I not start with that? It’s usually one of the first things I notice about someone. Smiles make everyone look twice as attractive. Oh, and a sense of humor! Gotta love a man who can make you laugh.”

“This one is definitely Morgan,” Emily chimed in and you nodded in agreement while Penelope raised her glass.

“Absolutely. He always makes me laugh, but so do the others. Rossi is snarky, which I appreciate as a fellow snarker. I can’t tell you the number of times he’s made me hold back a laugh during a round table. Reid can be really funny, too. Especially when we’re making Star Trek or Doctor Who references that no one else gets. Except you, Pen, but you’re usually in your lair. And Hotch—”

“No,” Emily cut in. “No way you think he’s funny. The man barely smiles.”

You tsked and leaned in, your tone turning a bit haughty. “First of all, I think it’s a good thing that he holds those back because have you seen how handsome he is when he smiles? His whole face transforms and he has dimples. Dimples . It’s ridiculous and no one would be able to focus on work if he was blinding us with his smile all the time. And secondly, yes. He’s hilarious, actually. He has a dry sense of humor that gets me every time. And he is so straight-faced about it. I laughed embarrassingly loud once at something he said and I had to leave the room because I couldn’t stop giggling. And the man had the nerve to be smug about it later.”

You shook your head with exasperated fondness, not noticing the raised eyebrows and pointed looks the other ladies were sharing.

“Anyway,” You sighed and leaned back in your chair. “Morgan is my biggest supporter, Reid nerds out with me, Rossi gives the best advice, and Hotch makes me feel safe. All things that would attract me to someone. So, with their powers combined…” You spread your hands in a sweeping motion. “The perfect man.”

“Huh,” Penelope hummed. “You know, I kinda see it.”

“See?” You grinned triumphantly. “We really do work with amazing guys.”

A cry of ‘hear, hear’ sounded around the table and the four of you leaned in to clink glasses.

Emily settled back in her chair with a smirk, her eyes focused on you. “Okay, you waxed poetic about the guys. Now, what about us?”

You grinned. “You, my darling lady loves, all hold a special place in my heart. There’s no way I could choose. You are each the perfect woman.”

Another cheer went up and everyone downed their drinks, laughing merrily.

The outing wound down about half an hour later. You each stumbled your way outside, Emily and Penelope deciding to share a taxi.

You stood with JJ as you waved the other two goodbye; you waiting for your own taxi and JJ waiting for Will to pick her up.

“You know,” she said conversationally, her eyes on the street. “You mentioned Hotch quite a few times describing your perfect man.”

You blinked. “What? I did not.”

She turned to you with a wide grin. “Oh yes, you did. No denying it now.”

You sputtered, not sure how to reply.

She chuckled and laid a hand on your arm, just as your taxi arrived. “Seems to me like he ticks quite a few of the boxes for your perfect man.” She leaned in to whisper, “So what are you going to do about it?”

JJ winked as she stepped back to open the door of the car that pulled in behind your taxi and slid in. “Just think about it, okay?”

You nodded numbly, mechanically climbing into the back seat of the taxi while Will and JJ patiently waited to make sure you were safely on your way.

You mumbled out your address and barely noticed the drive home, arriving much sooner than expected, as your mind was focused on JJ’s words.

You shook your head as you entered your apartment, determined to think no more of it. It was just a silly statement born out of one too many drinks.

There was no way you thought of Hotch that way.

No way at all.

***

The rest of the weekend was miraculously quiet and work-free. You couldn’t remember the last time you had so much time to yourself, so you took full advantage of it.

As days off always tended to do, they flew by too quickly and Monday morning arrived before you were ready for it. You greeted everyone when you entered the department, nodding to Rossi and waving at Morgan and Penelope as you settled in at your desk.

No new case had come in, so today would be an in-office day catching up on paperwork and caseloads.

You were productive throughout the day, completing most of the pending work assigned to you, and you were feeling quite accomplished with the diminishing stack in your inbox.

Only a few minutes remained in the workday when you stood from your chair, stretching your stiff back, and made your way up the stairs to Hotch’s office to drop off an armful of completed reports.

You knocked on his door, only having to wait a second before he bid you enter.

He was focused on the open file in front of him and he didn’t look up until you spoke. “These are ready for you to review, Hotch.”

His eyes shot up to meet yours before dropping to the folders in your arms. He gestured to the corner of his desk nearest you and went back to scribbling notes on the report. “You can just leave them there, thank you.”

You set them down next to another stack and grimaced. There were multiple bundles of files littering his desk. While in-office days were great for clearing your desk of work, it unfortunately always added to Hotch’s workload.

“Looks like everyone had similar offerings for you today. Will you be able to leave at a reasonable hour tonight? I’d be happy to help with anything if you need it.”

Hotch finished the line he was writing and looked up at you through his long lashes, a small, shy kind of smile curving his lips. His cheeks were just a touch pinker than usual and you blinked because you’ve never seen that look on his face before.

He looked almost bashful, a word you would never have associated with Aaron Hotchner.

But damn, was it a good look on him. He really was a handsome man, wasn’t he? Kind, funny, successful, and a great father. He was practically the perfect man.

You froze and blinked again at the realization.

“Oh, uh,” his deep voice broke you from your thoughts. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got it covered. I shouldn’t be here too much longer.”

“Right, of course.” You nodded and prayed he couldn’t see the blush you knew was rapidly spreading across your face. “Well, good night, sir.”

You spun on your heel and opened the door, ready to flee as fast as your feet could carry you.

His low, murmured good night followed you out the door and you nearly shivered because holy hell, even his voice was attractive.

You quickly grabbed your things and nearly sprinted to the elevators, not wanting to stay one second longer around skilled profilers who could read you so easily, knowing they would spot your flushed cheeks instantly and want to know what caused them. Or worse, they’d already know, and that was not something you were ready to discuss with any of them at the moment.

You had fully intended on ignoring JJ’s words from Friday night, but after your reaction just now, you knew she was right.

Hotch was pretty damn close to fitting the idea of your perfect man.

Or maybe, the idea of your perfect man came from Hotch.

You sighed as you entered the thankfully empty elevator, finally admitting to yourself the truth that had been staring you in the face for longer than you’d ever care to admit.

You had it bad for Aaron Hotchner.

Oh, you were in so much trouble.

***

Aaron watched as you left his office, your face a delightful shade of pink.

His eyes followed as you rushed to your desk, snatched up your things, and darted out the door.

He hadn’t meant to overhear Prentiss and Garcia’s conversation that morning as they reminisced over their night out last Friday. He certainly hadn’t meant to linger when they mentioned you and your adorable—according to Garcia—rant about the perfect man. And he most certainly hadn’t meant to lean in rather eagerly when they whispered about just how many times his name had come up as an example during said rant.

He had been pleasantly surprised and somewhat stunned by the information. He’d never thought of himself as an ideal for the perfect man.

Sure, he supposed he had a few attributes that some women might find appealing. He had a successful career and tried to keep in shape, though that was more for his job than vanity.

But he never imagined that anyone would look at him and think that he was a paradigm of their perfect man. Least of all you.

You were a brilliant profiler, exceptional in the field and able to hold your own in a fight when needed, but you were also caring with the victims and their families. You were witty and kind and easygoing. You were someone who smiled freely and laughed readily and did your best to cheer and encourage the team on tough cases.

Not someone who would think of stoic, hardass Aaron Hotchner as the perfect man.

Still, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes from drifting to the window of his office throughout the day, seeking you out.

He thought back to when you joined the BAU and how quickly you became not only an essential part of the team but a much-welcomed member of their little family. Everyone adored you and Aaron himself had to admit that you had wormed your way into his heart.

He loved the time he got to spend with you when the team got together to unwind after a case and the little moments of levity you all shared in between working. He recalled the times he managed to make you laugh and the occasions where he found himself chuckling as well. You were easy to talk to and more often than not, the two of you fell into conversation whenever everyone else was either asleep or preferred to be left alone on the jet going to and from cases.

He genuinely enjoyed your company and found himself wishing he could enjoy it more often.

His eyes wandered to the bullpen again, zeroing in on you almost immediately. Prentiss and Morgan were standing by your desk when one of them said something that made you laugh.

Your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth opened to release an enchanting sound of delight. Aaron couldn’t look away and had to admit that you really were quite lovely. Inside and out.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat looking at you but knew it was longer than appropriate. He shook his head and forced himself to focus back on his work.

He managed to shove all thoughts of you from his mind for the remainder of the day until a soft knock sounded on his door late in the afternoon.

He didn’t bother to look up from the report he was notating after giving a gruff come in until he heard your voice.

Aaron couldn’t keep his eyes from darting up to meet yours before dropping them to the large stack of files in your arms.

He gestured for you to place them on the corner of his desk next to the ones Reid had deposited earlier and thought that would be his singular interaction with you for the day.

But then your caring side came out again and you sweetly offered to help him, a proposition that both filled him with fondness and nervousness.

After all his wayward thoughts about you throughout the day, he wasn’t sure if being in close proximity with you was a good idea or not.

Aaron looked up at you again, the late afternoon sun enveloping you, enhancing your features, and his only thought was that he’d been wrong earlier.

You weren’t just lovely. You were stunning.

In that moment, he was completely captivated by you and his thoughts ran rampant as he cataloged every minute detail of you. Your beauty, your kindness, your brilliance, and all the little things that made you you . Everything that endeared you to him.

But his thoughts came to a crashing halt when he realized that he was staring at you. He felt his face flush and he stammered as he gently declined your help.

You bid him a good night, but Aaron couldn’t take his eyes off the spreading blush on your cheeks. It kept his attention until you were out of sight.

He blinked and dropped his eyes back to the forgotten report in front of him, a slow smile creeping across his face.

He may not have meant to overhear the conversation that caused him to think about you all day, but he was starting to be glad he had. It seemed it was all he needed to face a few truths he had been in denial about for a long while now.

He was completely and utterly smitten with you.

Now, he just had to decide what to do about it.

Aaron sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

Oh, he was in so much trouble.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #jj jareau #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds fanfiction

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my-tin-can-mans · 3 years

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She Knows Part 2, (Wolffe x Reader)

OH BOY. First I'm sorry this took me so long I've been busy with college. But! this is the longest fic or anything really I've written so wow. Hopefully you enjoy.

Warnings: angst, mentions of Alcohol, mentions of cheating slight smut (minors do not interact or read).

Note: italics are flashbacks

“So, what do you usually do during leave?” the question threw you a little of guard. You’d been stationed with the 501st for four months now, four months since you’d broke it off with Wolffe after… everything. You had been the head medic in the 104th battalion, but quickly put in a request for a transfer after the humiliation Wolffe had put you through. The only position available was with the 501st, working under their head medic, Kix. It was a demotion sure, but honestly it took a lot of stress of your shoulders and well, anything to get away from the situation you were in.

Working with Kix almost 24/7 forced you two to grow close and form a close relationship. It was more of a brotherly/sisterly love than anything else, though others saw how well you two had worked together and insisted you would make a good couple, you both were comfortable where you were, which you were grateful for, it was nice to have a friend as kind and understanding as Kix.

Tomorrow the whole battalion would be stationed on Coruscant, the general had some jedi duties to attends to and the war was at a standstill for the moment, giving the men time to relax instead of being thrown under another general for a while.

You had been checking bacta supplies when Kix happened to spring this question on you. Freezing your hand in motion as you had begun to type up an order to restock while planet side. You’d never actually had a leave without Wolffe. Most of the time on leave was spent in that dark corner of 79’s, the other half in a hotel bed.

“Mesh’la, come on, up. I promised the men we’d meet them tonight for a round.”

“But I don’t wanna go Wolffe can’t we just stay here? The sheets are so soft and I don’t feel like wearing clothes.” You’d whined.

“I already told them we would be there, now come up before I drag you out of bed.”

“you wouldn’t,” you peeked your head out from under the covers, narrowing you eyes at him, he stood at the foot of the bed, wearing his blacks sans shirt. He himself had just untangled from you and the sheets. How he had the willpower to do so you had no clue. He dawned his famous predatory smirk on his face

“Are you questioning my word Mesh’la, because you know I always keep my word.” He took a step forward, his thighs now touching the mattress.

“of course not Wolffe,” you gave him a sweet smile, “but I bet I could change your mind.”

“oh?” he raised an eyebrow. “do tell.” He placed his hand on either side of your feet, leaning over the bed

“why don’t you come up here and find out.”

With one swift move Wolffe was on top of you now and you brought your hands to his face pulling him in and kissing him, it was rough and passionate, you really didn’t want to leave and you wanted him to know that, hoping he would see how desperate you were and decide to stay. But after a few moments he pulled back, looking down at you with that damn smirk again, “that was quite convincing.”

Before you could retort anything Wolffe had left from his position on top of you, yanking you up to your feet in the process, “but unfortunately like a said before, I am a man of my word and I already gave it to my brothers, sorry mesh’la but you’ll have to show me your negotiating skills another time, I promise ill make up for it.”

“To be honest Kix I’ve never really done much with my leave time, ya know? I just kinda destress and go out every once in a while.”

“Oh? Well do you have any plans for our first night off then? Me and a couple of the boys are gonna be at 79’s if you’d like to join.”

The mention of 79’s made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t been back there since you’d found out about Wolffe. “I don’t know Kix,” you sighed, 79’s was a clone bar, and also a favorite hangout spot for the man you had been trying to forget about.

“oh come on, you think Jesse’s a horrible flirt now, just wait till you see him drunk, you’ll be laughing so hard your stomach will be sore in the morning.”

You snorted a laugh in response, Jesse and you were also pretty close, but he was notorious for always trying out stupid pick-up lines on you, he took every opportunity he could to flirt with you, even when he had gotten injured and you were stitching him up, “you look so pretty when your concentrated.” He had said.

But the issue at hand still itched in the back of your mind, what if Wolffe was there? Going back to your holopad, typing up the order you were previously working on to make yourself seem less concerned about your next question you asked him, “the 104th isn’t on leave right now are they?”

“no I don’t think so, why?” Kix had since turned around focusing on organizing medical supplies to help you order.

“Nothing, just, ya know making sure.” You’d told Kix about what happened between you and Wolffe. Just about every clone knew you two were dating, Wolffe always had to make it known you were his. So Obviously everyone was curious as to what had happened.

He turned and looked at you, realizing what you meant, “Oh Kriff, this is your first leave without him isn’t it?”

You nodded, too afraid, after months of finally getting yourself together you didn’t want to revert back to breaking down again.

“Hey listen, if you don’t want to be there I understand. But maybe it would help ya know? We’ll all be wasted you’ll totally forget about him I promise we’ll have a good time.”

It was very convincing, you’d seen the 501stparty and 79’s before, they went hard, unlike Wolffe who was usually more private and reserved. That didn’t mean you two still didn’t have fun in your own way on leave.

Much to your dismay you’d put on a dress and Wolffe had dragged you to 79’s anyways. The second you’d stepped into the place the music and dark lighting consumed you. It was loud tonight. The 501st was celebrating a successful occupy over a separatist world and you could tell. The blue armor was spread throughout the crowd, some at the bar hitting on the women already occupying it, and some on the dance floor.

You wished Wolffe danced more with you, you loved to dance but he only ever accompanied you once, and that was after a drinking competition with Thorne who was hard to beat. He didn’t even remember it in the morning.

Without a second glance to all the men, Wolffe grabbed your wrist and led you back to the booth he always sat at. Instead of the usual commanders, Sinker and Boost sat there awaiting their commanders arrival after being promised a drink with him. You slid into the booth and Wolffe sat right up against you.

He was broad so he took up most of the space, he always presented himself in such a way that he was always there, chest puffed out, shoulders broadened and head held high. When he got situated he spread his legs, taking up more space and knocked his with yours. The two of you practically sat in each other’s lap with how close you were to each other. he placed his hand on your thigh, resting just below the sundress you and reluctantly put on earlier.

It was a last resort to get him to stay in with you. It was his favorite. The first time he saw you in it he’d practically kneeled before you, although you were sure he was just trying to get a peak underneath.

Four shots were already at the table when you two had arrived and Sinker, who was sitting in front of you, had passed one your way while Wolffe grabbed his own downing it without even flinching.

As the night drove on, the men began to become tipsy and Wolffe’s hand grew higher and higher. It was when Boost was at the climax of telling you a story from before you had signed on with them that Wolffe finally breeched your center, rubbing his index finger over the already wet spot in your panties.

You jumped, not expecting him to be so bold as to touch you in front of his men. You turned to look at him but he was looking straight on at Boost, absolutely engrossed in the story he was telling. Without making eye contact he leaned over, giving you a small peck on your temple, while at the same time, he pushed you underwear over to the side and slipped a finger into you.

His face was flushed, from the alcohol or the devious act he was performing you couldn’t tell. It was probably a mix of both. Wolffe rarely showed PDA in public especially in front of him men. So you were practically in shock with what was happening right now.

You went to grab a sip of your drink while he slowly pumped his finger a few times before deciding to add another. You let out a chocking noise.

“Hey you okay?” Sinker seemed concerned at your reaction.

“Yeah, yeah just fine, drink must’ve gone down the wrong piper there” you tried to play it off.

He bought it just fine, resuming the conversation that had started up after Boost’s story. When you turned to look at Wolffe again he was wearing that shit eating grin he often dawned and maker you wanted to wipe it clean off.

When Sinker and Boost were distracted enough, Wolffe leaned into you, “come on now mesh’la, I did say I'd make it up to you, and as I recall we’ve already proved I’m a man of my words.”

“Well I guess a few drinks wouldn’t hurt.” You thought back to all the times you’d seen blue armor on the dance floor and envied the fact you hadn’t been there as well, “but I better get a couple of dances out of you guys”

Kix chuckled, “I can promise you, if you stop by for long enough those men will be fighting over who gets to dance with you next.”

You bellowed out a laugh at that. The thought of Jesse, tup and the rest fighting over you was quite the scenario. “Just comm me what time you boys are gonna be there at.”

He nodded his head in agreement, both of you chatting lightly about other topics as you finished the order.

****************************************************

The ship had landed a few hours ago, longing for a good night’s sleep you had left the barracks for the stay, packing up your necessities and checking into a hotel a few blocks out of the main traffic for some peace and quiet.

As you were getting ready for your night at 79’s Kix had sent you a comm message, letting you know they were on their way and would be arriving in 10 minutes. All you had left to do was dress yourself. You rummaged through the bag of clothes you had. It wasn’t much, mostly GAR issued scrubs and a few dresses. You heart stopped when you saw the dress though. The one that was always Wolffe’s favorite. You picked it out, holding it up so you could see the whole thing.

Kriff. This dress brought back so many memories. It almost hurt to look at it. if you were being completely honest with yourself though, you did look damn good in it. screw it you thought. Time to make better memories in it.

After you slipped the dress on you hailed an air taxi to 79’s once inside you scanned the bar, looking for the men who were going to take up your evening. You spotted them at the bar ordering drinks and from the looks of it Jesse was already on his shit and flirting with the bartender.

You walked up to them and their heads turned. Jesse let out a whistle, “Damn, look at you! If I didn’t know any better I'd say you were trying to entice me.”

Kix shook his head at that. Putting his face into his palm. Tup who happened to be standing beside Jesse elbowed him to which Jesse frowned at. “Could you not flirt with my favorite medic?” he turned to you, “you look nice by the way, but not in a creepy I want to get with you way like he meant.”

You let out a giggle. You were already having a great time and you hadn’t even been in the building for five minutes. You took a seat at the bar between Kix and Jesse, Tup to the other side of him.

As the night ticked by you happened to get pretty tipsy, never getting truly drunk for fear you couldn’t make it back to your hotel safely. The men held their alcohol well though and although they were drinking twice as much, they were probably the same level intoxicated as you were. You all stayed at the bar, cracking jokes and telling insane stories, often Jesse would flirt with you or the bartender but it wasn’t too much and you both welcomed the light heartedness attention he gave.

An hour in you heard a voice behind you, “Hope I didn’t miss too much.” You swiveled in the bar seat, turning around to be face to face with the captain of the 501st.

“Captain!” Kix exclaimed, “what took you so long?”

“Sorry boys had a few reports I needed to fill out before the night ended.”

“Well, were glad you here now.” You said.

You got up to give the captain a hug. Something you defiantly wouldn’t do sober, but the alcohol had given you a little confidence. Rex looked surprised by the affection but embraced you anyways. He leaned down and you put your chin over his shoulder patting him on the back staying like that for a second.

It was then that you wished you hadn’t hugged Rex, hadn’t drank as much to give you a confidence boost, and hadn’t stepped a foot in this maker forsaken bar again.

He sat there, in the seat he always sat in when he came here. Only this time he wasn’t with any of his troopers or the other commanders. This time he was with another girl. She was a purple Twi'lek and she was drop dead gorgeous. And the dress she was wearing, or lack thereof because of how tiny it was , made you look like you had just picked yours straight out of the garbage. And you couldn’t help but wonder.

Was that her?

“Kriff Wolffe, what the actual Kriff!” you screamed, you didn’t care about the other guests in the hotel, you were so mad you were practically seeing stars.

“I'm sorry mesh’la I'm sorry I'm so so sorry.”

“No. No! don’t you dare call me that right now. I can’t – I don’t even have words for you right now.”

“please, please let me explain,”

You whipped you head around to him, seeing a whole new layer of red. “Explain? What is there to explain Wolffe. You cheated on me then proceeded to not tell me while apparently everyone else knew and I found out through one of your brothers! Isn’t that enough of an explanation.”

You sat down on the bed, head in hands. He kneeled down in front of your feet. Placing his hands atop of your knees. “I'm sorry.” He whispered. You slapped his hands off you, the thought of him touching you after another woman practically revolted you.

“you already said that.”

“I know, and I mean it I am, it was a mistake, I- if I could take it back I would, Maker I- I hate myself for letting it happen.”

“you should hate yourself.”

“I do, I do. Please, tell me what I can do to make this better.”

For a man who was supposed to be well tactical he kept making all the wrong moves.

“Wolffe there is no making this better. What’s done is done and now it's time to move on.” you finally made your decision, after debating back and forth in the air cab on how to react.

“Yes of course let’s move on, it was in the past but I love you Mesh’la I want you that’s all.”

Kriff that’s not what you meant. “No Wolffe, I mean I’m moving on. from you. I- I can’t continue to be with someone who has done what you’ve done. It's- it's not fair to me.”

By this point tears were strolling down your face. You turned your head to wipe them, not wanting him to see how much he had broke you. “no, no please I- I love you please we can fix this we can work this out please just stay I- I need you.”

“I love you too Wolffe, but there is no fixing this. I loved you so much that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, I gave you everything thing, I gave you all of me and you took that and you stomped on it, you might as well of placed my heart in a dumpster and set it on fire.”

He put his head in your lap. A single tear rolling down his face. “please, please don’t go, I'm so sorry.”

“I know Wolffe. But I can’t accept your apology.”

Your head was pounding. He wasn’t supposed to be on Coruscant right now. Kix had said so himself. You pulled back from Rex. He placed his hands on your shoulders his face blocking the view of him. He smiled warmly but his expression quickly changed when he saw yours.

“you look like you’ve seen a ghost” he joked.

But you facial expression didn’t lighten, in fact it only got worse. With every waking second, every harsh beat of whatever hit song was playing over the speakers you drew yourself inwards more and more.

“hey hey what wrong?” Kix had left his seat at the bar quickly coming to your side. Him and Rex both dawned a look of concern.

“You said he wouldn’t be here.” You turned to Kix, channeling you emotions onto him.

He looked confused at first, but the realization hit him and he turned his head to look over Rex’s shoulder. Rex followed his line of vision and they both saw him. Sitting there in the booth, while the woman clung to him, practically in his lap.

She was kissing his neck, which honestly surprised you, Wolffe was never one for public displays of affection. Or maybe that was just with you. Because he seemed to be enjoying this.

Rex turned around to face you again, a look of panic and empathy on his face, “Kriff I'm so sorry I- he was on a solo mission with General Koon and they’re stationed here for the night so I told him I’d be here. I'm so sorry, it was an honest mistake.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard that from a man in this room.

You felt like the whole room was spinning, be that the alcohol or the nervousness and upset that came with seeing him again you weren’t sure. All the men you had come here with were suddenly surrounding you with sympathetic looks and it felt like someone had placed a spotlight on you and you just wanted it to go away.

This night was meant to help you forget him, be happy and have fun with your new assigned battalion. Kriff was the so much to ask for!

“hey hey come on now,” Jesse finally broke the silence, “forget about him! If I remember correctly I promised you a dance earlier?”

This made you finally break out of your trance. You needed a distraction, and had been waiting for someone to dance with all night.

“actually I would love to Jesse.”

“right this way then”

He held out his hand for you and took you to the dance floor. The song that was playing was loud and upbeat, you and Jesse moved together to the beat, it was fun and you really enjoyed it, when the beat of the song dropped everyone on the dance floor was jumping to it, you and Jesse did the same

When the song stopped, you were practically out of breath, you let out a laugh of relief, actually feeling a little better. You looked up are Jesse and he was smiling at you.

“Feeling better, huh?” he asked.

“A little, thank you.”

A few second later another song had come on. This time it was more slow, the partners on the dance floor started to grab each other.

Jesse grabbed your waist. “Come on huh? let’s give that son of a blaster something to look at, plus this might be the only time I get to be this close to you, despite my attempts” he smirked at you.

You nodded your head, letting out a giggle at his lame excuse to flirt with you again. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he pulled you in closer, your chest practically touching his. And finally you both started to sway to the beat.

A few seconds in Jesse started rubbing his thumbs on your hips, trying to calm your nerves, and it worked. Caught up in the music you started to lightly grind your hips into his, although it was soft guarded by his armor, he still took notice to it. smirking at you and grinding in time with you. His hands started to rise, growing closer and closer to under your breasts, but never reaching, knowing he would be crossing a line, and although Jesse was a flirt, his last intention was to make anyone uncomfortable.

He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck. You could feel his breathe on your skin, and his nose rubbing up and down. He placed a soft his on your shoulder and the next thing you knew you were being turned around. His hand were back on your waits, but his cheat was now pressed up against your back. He gave you a harsh grind into your ass and you gasped. His arms now wrapping around you, pulling you impossibly tight into him. His head resumed its spot into your neck.

“is this okay,” he whispered into your ear.

“yeah.” You breathed. He kissed you neck this time. but it was just one short one, it was slow, and hot, you closed your eyes. he placed them all the way up your neck, all the way up to your jaw. All the way close to your mouth, and he whispered again, is this okay.

You nodded your head, eyes still closed and you turned you head towards him a little encouraging him. And his lips met yours.

You hadn’t kissed very many people. Wolffe giving you the majority of your experience. and although they were clones, they felt completely different. When Wolffe used to kiss you he practically stole your breath, he put everything he had into kissing you, and it was almost always hot and it made your insides flip, no matter how many times he kissed you, you always felt dizzy and perfectly happy, like his kissed could cure any problemed you had. To say Jesse was a bad kisser would be a lie, it was a good kiss, but it almost made you feel the opposite, all you could think about was Wolffe.

And when the song ended and you opened your eyes you were facing him again. Him. And he was sitting there with his lounge practically down the woman’s throat. And it hurt, hurt to know that he didn’t even acknowledge you. Hadn’t even cared that the person he once begged to stay with was with someone else now. Even though you weren’t actually. It hurt that he used to kiss you like that and now he was kissing someone else like that.

you weren’t sure if it was the beginning of the next song, or if your head was going fuzzy, but all you could hear was ringing in your ears. Jesse had unwrapped his hands from around you and the moment he did you sprang towards the doors of 79’s.

you heard the faint sounds of Jesse, rex and Kix calling out for you but you couldn’t be bothered to hear what any of them had to say. You left the building and walked a few blocks. Finally coming across an empty alley. You pressed you back against the cool metal of the building you were beside and let out a breathe. The air was cool and crisp against your skin, but it felt good.

After all the time you spent forgetting about him you were practically back at square one. And it pissed you off. How dare he have this effect on you.

You let out a sigh, gathering your emotions. And when you finally felt calm enough you went to comm Kix, letting him know you’d be going back to your hotel for the rest of the night, but you were interrupted.

“Mesh’la.”

ending notes: soooo, im not sure if im gonna do another part on this or not, i have some ideas for other fics but im kinda cramped on time at the moment so we shall see.

Tags

@fandom-garbage @dionysuskid21

#commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #the wolfpack #wolffe x reader #tcw wolffe #clone trooper wolffe #wolffe x you #tcw #clone wars #starwars #starwars x reader #the clone wars fic #fan fic #my fic #star wars the clone wars #clone wars x reader #the clone wars #clone wars fic #cc 3636

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bbangsoonie · 3 years

Text

goal: your heart

member: sunwoo genre: fluff word count: 5,423 synopsis: due to a budget cut, you have to follow the soccer team around for both the school newspaper and yearbook despite knowing nothing about sports. before you know it, you find yourself warming up to the team’s star player, who you swore was the most annoying and arrogant person ever.

a/n: this is a part of the star player collab with @atbzkingdom for sunwoo’s birthday! (also, this will be written with the american academic calander in mind)

You knew exactly what you were doing. You were the top student of both your class and school and the leader of many clubs. Your college application was full of achievements and your essay exquisitely written. The only problem? You had no idea what to do after graduation. You didn’t know where you wanted to go or what you wanted to study.

Growing up, everyone told you that you’d eventually find something you love. By senior year, you thought you would at least have an idea by now.

But nope, you were even more lost if anything. Dream job? That was just a capitalistic lie meant to make people happy to slave away for money.

Grumbling, you listened as your friends rambled on about the campuses they visited. It was only the first day back and everyone was already obsessing over one thing and one thing only.

“Y/n, you’re so lucky,” Juyeon pouted. “You don’t have to worry about getting into a university. Your stats are literally perfect.”

“I have other things to stress over,” you groaned. “At least you know what you wanna pursue.”

“Y/n has other things to worry about. She’s about to graduate without ever finding love,” Younghoon teased.

“It’s all our fault,” Jaehyun squinted as he pinched his nose bridge. “We raised her standards too high. I’m sorry, Y/n, that I can’t take responsibility.”

The notebook in your hand threatened to fly over to his seat. Luckily for him, he was saved by Juyeon’s very unnatural attempt at changing the subject. He inquired about the school newspaper that was barely spared in a major budget cut last year.

Thinking about it made you sigh. You had poured in so much effort over the years for the paper and it was almost taken from you. The school was cutting funds for a lot of clubs and diverting the money to the many sports teams that brought home trophies.

A part of the negotiations to save the newspaper club was to feature more sports events and student athletes in order to garner support for the teams. You weren’t pleased with the decision. Your plate was already full without trying to inflate the ego of players who had a god superiority complex. Jaehyun was a great example of the type of jock you didn’t want to raise on a high pedestal.

You had also promised Kevin, the president of the yearbook committee, to help out with photographing games since you had to attend them anyway. Despite the many tasks assigned to you, you were relieved that you could spend your last year continuing to write articles.

“Does that mean you’ll get to come to practice with us? The basketball team is always on my ass about introducing them to you. Now I can finally stop being pestered to be the middleman,” Jaehyun grinned.

“No shot,” Younghoon shook his head. “My swim team has already tried but Y/n puts up a cold front.”

“Hey, I’m a delicately guarded rose with sharp thorns,” you joked, making Jaehyun pretend to gag. This time, the notebook hit his arm.

“No one is good enough for our Y/n,” Juyeon defended. You turned around to coo at him and said something about him being the only nice one as Younghoon guffawed.

The first day of soccer practice meant you had to stay behind after dismissal to meet the team. The coach introduced you to the players and beamed when he got to the last one.

“This is our ace, Sunwoo. Although I’m sure you know that already,” he said proudly.

To be honest, you had no idea who he was. The school was too big to know everyone and you had absolutely no interest in sports. You rarely even went to Juyeon and Jaehyun’s basketball games and Younghoon’s swim meets.

Not wanting to offend anyone, you simply smiled. Sunwoo, catching your hesitance, raised a brow. However, he kept quiet until he approached you during one of his breaks.

“Do you really not know me?” he asked as he took a seat next to you on the bleachers.

Surprised by his sudden question, you blankly stared at the boy in front of you. Sweat was dripping from his hair but he paid it no attention as he chugged an entire water bottle.

“How cocky are you?” you scoffed.

“You really don’t know our soccer team’s star player, Kim Sunwoo?” he gaped.

“Sorry to disappoint but I really don’t care or know much about soccer. Or any other sports for that matter,” you shrugged.

“You’re going to write about the soccer team… when you don’t even know who we are or what we’re doing?” he asked incredulously.

“That’s why I’m here to observe,” you snapped back.

Finding you amusing, he finally wiped away his sweat as the coach blew his whistle to gather the players again.

Sunwoo always gave it his best but for some reason he found himself practicing extra hard that day. Knowing your eyes were on him motivated him to show off his skills by annoying his teammates and stealing the spotlight. After his third goal in a row, he looked at you to see your reaction but was baffled to see you busy writing something down.

Frustrated and peeved, he kicked at the grass with a huff.

When practice came to an end, he snuck up behind you to see what you were so intently focused on. Reading the notes on your notebook, he hummed.

“So that’s what you were doing instead of watching me,” he mused.

You were listing physical traits and personality attributes of each player. He scanned the paper for his name and frowned when he saw what you wrote about him.

“Arrogant and conceited? That’s all you have to say about me?” he whined.

“What? It’s true,” you deadpanned.

“Haknyeon gets “tall, bubbly, and extroverted” but I get “arrogant and conceited”? That’s not fair. This is biased journalism!” he exclaimed.

Realizing that practice was over, you gathered your belongings and stood up to leave. With his cheeks puffed, he watched as you left the field. You were unlike any person he had ever encountered.

“Sunwoo? Kim Sunwoo?” Younghoon repeated with his eyes wide. “The soccer caption Kim Sunwoo?”

Jaehyun and Juyeon’s chopsticks froze midair in shock. Finding their reactions odd, you nodded as you took another bite of your lunch.

“I can’t believe the lady killer got rejected by the man hater,” Jaehyun broke out into a fit of laughter.

“Now that’s a title I’d like to see on the school newspaper,” Younghoon snickered.

“Okay, first of all, I did not reject him because he did not come on to me,” you rolled your eyes. “Secondly, who the hell is he anyway? Why do you all know him?”

“He’s notorious for his fuckboy image. Although I think that’s an exaggerated reputation,” Juyeon said you picked out all the vegetables from your plate. He willingly moved them to his own and you smiled gratefully in response.

“So my first impression of him was correct,” you said.

“He’s not that bad. He’s actually pretty cool. Rumors don’t do the sweet guy justice,” Juyeon explained.

“Our lovely Juyeon sees the good in everyone,” Younghoon gushed as he pet his friend, earning him a smack on the back of his head.

“We were partners for a history project,” Juyeon clarified. “I got to know him a bit and he’s a good guy. Just enjoys attention a little too much. Like Jaehyun.”

Weirdly offended, Jaehyun scowled. You shrugged it off, returning your attention back to your food. You had no intentions of getting to know Sunwoo anyway. At least, that was the plan until he bombarded you in the hallway while you were walking to class.

He blocked your path with that irritating smirk on his face. Exasperated, you asked him what he wanted.

“So I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday,” he started.

“Oh, so you do think?”

“Hey!”

“Do you think you can move and get out of my way?”

“Anyway, as the president of the newspaper club who’s in charge of covering the soccer team, I think you lack way too much information about the sport. And our school’s players.”

“How do you know I’m the president?”

“I asked around.”

You look at his eyes, trying to peer through any ulterior motives. He was being suspiciously generous. But he wasn’t entirely wrong. Even you thought it was ridiculous that a person who didn’t know a thing about soccer had to write articles about it.

You were also aware that any interviews with the athletes would be surface level stuff that all the students probably already knew. You were the only one out of the loop.

You pursed your lips, annoyed that he was right. Realizing that you were in agreeance, Sunwoo grinned.

“I am offering you the very special privilege to follow me around and learn everything there is to know about the team. For the paper of course,” he quickly added the last part after seeing the look on your face. “I can teach you about both soccer and my teammates.”

After pondering his proposal, you finally nodded.

“Deal,” you eyed his happy expression. “What do you want in return?”

He was taken aback by your question. He hadn’t expected you to assume that he would demand compensation. Your presence and attention were what he was after in the first place. However, he couldn’t let the opportunity pass by.

“Bubble tea,” he declared after some thought. “You can treat me to bubble tea after practice and I can tutor you then.”

“Fine,” you sighed before pushing him aside to make it to class before the bell rang. He was left behind with a stupid smile on his face.

The first tutoring session was extremely awkward for you. You weren’t used to hanging out with guys other than Juyeon, Younghoon, and Jaehyun. They were the only members of the male species you didn’t despise. This riled up Sunwoo’s competitive side. He was determined to get close to you.

He couldn’t stand having someone not like him. He was used to being on friendly terms with everyone—including teachers and even wallflowers. He had a strong desire to receive acknowledgement from everyone.

Perhaps that was why so many girls fell for him.

Nevertheless, the wall around you remained thick and high. Just as he was well known for his playboy persona, you were infamous for never letting guys in. You cold heartedly turned down any and every guy who asked you out. And there had been a lot.

Sunwoo, on the other hand, was excited to spend time with you. Bubble tea was just an excuse to meet you outside of school grounds.

His phone dinged, notifying him of a text. Haknyeon had sent him a screenshot of a post made on the school’s gossip page and wrote “this you?”. He snorted at the content speculating his relationship status after supposedly receiving another confession and rolled his eyes. Curious, you asked him what he was looking at.

“Ah, it’s nothing,” he shook his head as he put the device away. “Just the stupid tea account.”

“Oh you mean that anonymously run social media page that popped up over summer break?” you frowned.

You hated everything about it. It spread rumors, without fact-checking, and started drama. It resulted in both a breakup and the end of a friendship in the span of two months. It was exactly what you and the school newspaper stood against.

Nothing could be done to stop the false information and invasion of privacy because it wasn’t officially affiliated with the school and the students continued to feed into it. People even sent in stories to be posted.

“So tell me what you do know about soccer,” he leaned in and propped his chin on the palms of his hands.

“I know the very basics from catching glimpses of the World Cup,” you leaned back on your chair, making him pout.

“Well, to be honest, explaining the rules is a lot easier to do when directly pointing things out during a game. There’s a match airing tonight. Do you want to come over and watch it with me?” he asked expectantly.

“We can watch the replay tomorrow during study hall,” you said.

“Then we can start by talking about me today,” he chirped. “My squad number is 19 because 9 is usually worn by centre forwards but I wanted to be special and added a 1 in front of it. I’m the centre forward, which is the main striker. That means playing offensive is my main objective. Which is why I’m the highest scorer on the team.”

You wanted to wipe the smug look off his face. It irked you how he so easily bragged about himself.

“I also really like movies and can play the guitar. A true all-rounder and romanticist,” he smiled.

He continued to reveal fun facts about himself for another half an hour. It was only at the end that you realized most of it was useless when writing for the paper. You groaned, realizing you had fallen for his trap.

Still, you learned some things about soccer and his position in the team. Following him to the cafe hadn’t been a complete waste of your time.

The next day, Sunwoo hunted you down to make sure you kept your promise about watching the game together. He dragged you to the computer room during study hall and pulled out the earbuds he prepared. He had purposely rummaged through his drawers the night before to the share wired ones with you.

You had to admit he was extremely helpful when explaining the rules and strategies of soccer. Despite being uncomfortable with the proximity of his body to yours, he was a great teacher. He made everything sound so simple. After you began to understand the game, you even found yourself enjoying the match.

After spending a week with him, you hated that you couldn’t say you still disliked him. After all, you two met almost every day for hours.

You had a gut feeling that you would come to regret it and were proven right. You had a bad feeling the moment you saw Jaehyun run up to you as if his life depended on it. Panting, he barely pulled himself together to show you the post that made him immediately report to you.

“KSW and Y/INITIALS seen cozily spending time together. Will he be the one to finally break through her?” you read aloud.

A photo of your backs from the computer room and a mosaicked side shot of you two at the cafe were attached to the title. The comments under the post were even more ridiculous.

“A challenge to be anticipated.”

“Poor girl will only end up as one of his many heartbroken playthings.”

“I know who KSW is. Who’s Y/INITIALS??”

“The legendary man hater? With a guy?? Wow how good must he be 👀”

“Damn so she rejected me for him?”

Your blood boiled and you shoved the phone away. Trying to calm yourself down, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. And failed.

“What is this, fucking Dispatch?” you exploded. A few students passing by stared at your outburst and widened their eyes when they saw that it was you. You sighed, knowing that the whole school saw the post.

“I’m not a celebrity! Why are people so invested in fake rumors about me?” you yelled, trying to keep your voice to a whisper as you pulled Jaehyun into an empty classroom.

“I’m sure it’ll blow over,” he assured.

“If I ever find out who the admin of this page is, I will ruin them,” you glowered.

You almost didn’t go to the soccer practice that day. But you knew that avoiding him would only add fuel to the fire so you sucked it up and went to the field after school as usual. You heard the hushed murmurs that stirred among the team when you arrived and you wanted to turn back around and leave.

Before you could, however, Sunwoo appeared and shut everyone up with a warning glare. He announced that the coach would be late and to start by running laps.

You were more annoyed than upset about the post. It just stupefied you that people really had nothing better to do than gossip about you. You didn’t think you were that interesting.

You were so close to escaping after practice but Sunwoo caught you trying to sneak away. He stood in front of you, crossing his arms as if to ask where you were going. Giving up, you muttered a “fine” and waited for him to change out of his uniform.

This time, you two wordlessly agreed to go to a different cafe. With the bubble teas on the table in front of you, you sat in silence until Sunwoo finally spoke up.

“Don’t mind what the post or others say,” he huffed.

“I’m not too bothered by it,” you shrugged.

“Good. Because I want to get to know you as just Y/n and Sunwoo. Through whatever you wish to tell and show me. I feel like we’re always just talking about me.”

His words left you speechless. Juyeon hadn’t been kidding when he mentioned how thoughtful Sunwoo was. You felt your heart warm as you smiled.

“Well what do you want to know about me?” you asked.

“Anything. Everything.”

So you spilled about your interests, hobbies, and goals. It was strange. Although it hadn’t been long since you met him, you felt comfortable around him. He made you feel at ease and you didn’t think twice about opening up to him.

You told him about your struggles as a high achieving student. About the pressure you felt and how embarrassing it was to tell people that you didn’t have any dreams.

With your grades, all the teachers expected you to apply to medical school. On the other hand, your parents encouraged you to work towards a high paying and stable salary as a corporation employee. Your friends suggested that you go for something in journalism because of your passion and commitment to the school newspaper.

But the club was just something you did for fun. You didn’t know if you liked it enough to pursue it as a career.

Sunwoo listened attentively as you went on about your concerns. From the outside, you looked like you had your life together. You were the perfect student and the girl that many guys chased after. But as he spent more time with you, it became clear that you were very uncomfortable with boys.

“Can I ask how you got so close with the Bermuda line?” he asked.

“The Bermuda line? What’s that?”

“You’ve never heard of the term? Juyeon, Jaehyun, and Younghoon are called the Bermuda line because they’re the most popular athletes out of all the sports teams. The girls say that once you fall for them, you’re stuck in between them forever because you can’t get out.”

You hadn’t laughed that hard in so long. You knew they had fans but found it hilarious how the trio even had a nickname.

“Oh man, I can’t wait to make fun of them for this,” you laughed, nearly in tears.

When he told you that they actually took great pride in the title, you bursted out in laughter again. Their self love truly was on another level.

“So how’d you end up friends?” he asked again.

“Juyeon, I’ve known since middle school. We were in the same class for all three years. Jaehyun didn’t go to the same school as us but he was friends with Juyeon because they played basketball together. I met him and Younghoon at the end of freshman year. They kinda crash landed into my life but we really clicked so that’s why I still bless them with my friendship.”

Sunwoo giggled at your own overwhelming confidence. He loved that you never sold yourself short. He didn’t notice he had been staring at you until you pointed it out. Blushing, he insisted that it was nothing and took another sip of his bubble tea.

Two months passed by and you eventually came to call Sunwoo a friend. Younghoon teased you about him being more than a friend and at first, you thought he was crazy. But with him planting the idea in your head, you began to question your own feelings. Cursing Younghoon, you blamed him for confusing you.

As the designated photographer, you tagged along to the soccer team’s last match. The entire team was nervous as it would determine the winner of the tournament. Even Sunwoo was anxious.

Before the game started, you offered him a supportive smile and he felt all worries lifted off his shoulders. He erased all thoughts of winning and losing and just concentrated on the ball. He wanted to enjoy the last match of the season and look cool in front of you. That was all that mattered to him.

Fortunately, he got both plus the win. The crowd erupted into cheers as he scored the winning goal just seconds before the whistle was blown to signal the end of the game. His knees fell to the ground and his teammates rushed to surround him.

Seeing how happy he looked brought a smile to your lips. He jumped up and scanned the bleachers for your face. When he finally spotted you, he broke away from his team to run up to you and embrace you in a giant hug.

Caught off guard, you froze as his teammates hooted and applauded. You felt your cheeks heat up at the attention.

“Congratulations,” you chuckled, patting his back. “You did well.”

“Did you get a lot of pretty pictures of me?” he grinned, pulling away to look at you.

“No, I only took pictures of Haknyeon,” you joked. By now, he was used to your teasing and simply ruffled your hair in response.

“There’s gonna be an after party tonight,” he brought up carefully. “I’d really like it if you came. Only if you’re okay with that type of scene though.”

Surprised, you nodded before you fully thought it through.

That was how you ended up moping at Jaehyun’s house. The invitation was extended to the Bermuda line as well and they were all planning on dragging you there. Younghoon was excited at the thought of finally going to a party with the whole group and Juyeon was picking out an outfit for you from Jaehyun’s sister’s closet.

“I don’t know if I trust your fashion sense,” she made a face at the top he held up.

This was your first party and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. There was a reason you hadn’t gone to one throughout your high school years.

Nonetheless, you were dressed up in an outfit that definitely reflected Jaehyun’s sister’s style more than yours. She fawned over how pretty you were and urged you to go with the boys.

So you walked through the doors and into the house vibrating with music. Everyone who recognized you was shocked to see you there. Feeling awkward, you stuck by Jaehyun’s side as you maneuvered around the throng of people. When he finally caught sight of Sunwoo, he dipped and left you alone with him.

“Thanks for coming,” he shouted over the loud music.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you shouted back.

Sunwoo offered you a drink, which you declined. Following your choice, he opted for a soda instead as well. You weren’t much of a dancer so you enjoyed people watching instead. It was fascinating to see your classmates have so much fun.

You giggled when you saw Juyeon be so painfully oblivious to a girl’s advances and walked away to dance with Younghoon. Meanwhile, Jaehyun was having the time of his life flirting with girls. You blocked your eyesight when you saw him leaning in to kiss one of them.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringed. “I do not need to know this side of my best friend’s love life.”

Laughing, Sunwoo offered to take you outside for some fresh air and a change of scenery. You gladly agreed and let him guide you to the backyard.

The night sky was full of tranquility that contrasted the chaos that ensued indoors. You sat on the grass and Sunwoo joined next to you.

“You look beautiful today,” he commented.

“Only today?” you laughed.

“Especially today,” he answered in a serious manner. His sincerity made you clear your throat and look away. He stunned you by cupping your face with his hands.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Are you drunk?” you blinked.

“I haven’t had a single sip of alcohol.”

His voice was slow and raspy. Your heart was beating faster than you wanted it to and you knew the corners of your lips were betraying you.

“You can either lean in or pull away,” he said as he brought his lips closer to yours.

Your heart now felt like it was about to jump out of your chest. Red alarms were going off in your head and you didn’t know what to do. All you knew was what you were only a few centimeters away from kissing Sunwoo.

So you did what any insane person would do and closed the gap between your lips. You wanted to punch him when you felt him smirk but he pulled you closer and held onto you tightly.

The weekend passed without much changes in your relationship with Sunwoo. You were worried that you had either ruined your friendship or that he was sick of you but Juyeon reassured you that he probably wanted to talk about it in person. Anxiously, you overthought things until Monday finally arrived.

Wanting to keep yourself busy until you met Sunwoo, you stopped by the club room early in the morning to import the photos from the last game. Shortly after you connected the camera to the computer, you heard a knock on the door.

Startled, you looked at the door and saw Jacob sheepishly poking his head through the door. You told him to come in and he took a seat next to you.

“Kevin told me to drop by before class for an interview,” he said. You nearly facepalmed. You had completely forgotten about that. You were supposed to interview him for the paper.

“Oh yeah! Hold on, let me go get my notebook,” you searched through your backpack to find it.

The volleyball player was this month’s star of the month and you had to write a piece on his past achievements. He was extremely kind and was careful not to use any advanced sports terminology to make sure anyone could easily read the interview, which you were grateful for.

Before you parted, he gave you a side hug out of habit and apologized when he realized that it was only his first time meeting you. You laughed it off and insisted that now you could be friends since you two hugged already. Relieved that you weren’t disturbed, he happily waved goodbye to you as he walked away.

Being in a different class than Sunwoo meant that you had to wait until lunch period to see him. You honestly didn’t even know if you wanted to see him. You weren’t ready to face him yet.

When the bell finally rang and it was time for lunch, Juyeon forced you to go to the cafeteria instead of hiding out in an empty classroom. The moment you sat down with your tray, however, you felt all eyes on you. Your stomach dropped, knowing it couldn’t be good news.

“Y/n, is this true..?” Jaehyun asked, showing you the new post on the gossip page. You hated that you were always right about bad intuitions.

KSW and Y/INITIALS caught making out at last night’s party… is BJY a side hoe?

You had no idea when a photo was taken in the brief second you and Jacob hugged that morning. When you scrolled and saw the next part, your heart dropped.

A shocking revelation of history: Y/INITIALS and SYJ used to date in freshman year. Does this have anything to do with the swimmer and basketball players always next to her?

You felt your breath caught in your throat as you read through the comments.

“Isn’t BJY on the volleyball team and SYJ on the baseball team?”

“Wow she clearly has a type.”

“I guess athletes just hit it well 👀”

“And here I thought KSW was the hoe… who’s playing with who?”

“Aye so KSW finally managed to break through her. Thanks for my $10 bro.”

“Aren’t the basketball players LJY and LJH? And the swimmer KYH? The Bermuda line, right?? I always thought she had a thing with one of them.”

“So much for the icy Y/INITIALS. She was acting all pretentious when she was already having all her fun.”

Juyeon grabbed the phone out of your hands and glared at Jaehyun. You never thought your past relationship would ever get exposed. There were only a handful of people who knew about it and it had stayed hidden under the rug up until now. It was something you wanted to bury and never think about ever again.

Shakily, you got up and ran out of the cafeteria with Younghoon calling out after you. You ran as fast as you could. You didn’t stop until you busted through the doors and collapsed on the rooftop. Your lungs were on fire and you closed your eyes to stop the ringing in your ears.

Meanwhile, Sunwoo was running across the school to find you. When he didn’t see you in the club room, he changed his target and sought out Eric.

“Is it true?” he demanded when he finally saw his friend.

“I can’t believe people already figured out that it’s me,” Eric sighed.

“Is it true?” Sunwoo repeated.

“Yes, yes, it’s true,” he answered with his hands up in defeat. “She never wanted anyone to find out. We didn’t exactly end on good terms. It’s something I’m not proud of.”

“What happened?” he asked, trying to contain his anger. “What did you do to her?”

“I…” Eric trailed off. “I cheated on her.”

“What the hell, Eric?” Sunwoo yelled.

“I-I was stupid! And young. It’s the biggest mistake I made in my life,” he admitted.

Frustrated, Sunwoo left and ran off in search of you again. When you weren’t anywhere to be found, he checked the rooftop as a last resort. He didn’t expect to actually see you there.

“Y/n,” he breathed. You felt a lump form in your throat. It was the first time he had addressed you by your name.

“Get away from me,” you glared. “Was I nothing but a bet to you? Was I just a challenge for you to win?”

“Y/n, I never placed bets on you. I don’t know what other people have been betting on but I have always been genuine with you,” he affirmed.

You refused to let your tears fall. There was no way Kim Sunwoo was going to see you cry.

“I like you,” he confessed. “I like you a lot. I meant to say this that night but got too flustered. So I wanted to tell you today. Whenever I see you, the butterflies in my stomach won’t go away. When I don’t see you, I miss you like crazy. You inspire me to become a better person and all I want to do is hold you and call you mine.”

And now Kim Sunwoo has officially seen you cry. He bent down to wrap his arms around you as you sobbed into his shoulder.

“You’re an asshole,” you mumbled after you calmed down.

“I think you mean the opposite,” he chuckled. “Whatever barriers you put up to protect yourself, I’m going to take them down one by one. With you. Together.”

“Who said I’m helping?” you muttered.

“Then I guess I have to work twice as hard to prove myself,” he softly smiled.

“This is embarrassing,” you groaned.

“This will only be embarrassing for me if you reject me,” his hand reached out to the nape of his neck. “So what do you say? Will you go out with me?”

“I’ll think about it,” you huffed, prompting a chuckle from him.

#deobiwritersnet #the boyz #sunwoo #the boyz sunwoo #the boyz fluff #sunwoo fluff #the boyz sunwoo fluff #the boyz imagines #sunwoo imagines #tbz fluff #tbz imagines #the boyz fic #sunwoo fic #tbz fic #the boyz scenarios #sunwoo scenarios #tbz scenarios #star player collab

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spicysoftsweet · 3 years

Text

A Thorn In The Side - Gojo x Reader

Summary: Infatuation enduring from high school is more of a problem than you or he think (~3.4k words).

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, noncon, kidnapping, yandere, wlw mention, gojo is a pos

A/N: Part of @suedebunn‘s Hanahaki collab!

When the strongest jujutsu sorcerer to have ever lived wakes up in the early am with the sensation of thorns scratching his throat and fullness in his stomach, he’s baffled.

Even more so when he doubles over in bed to cough profusely to the point of near emesis, shocking for a man who rarely gets sick. He stares blankly at a pillow covered in droplets of flecks of red, and his eyes widen with trepidation, until he realizes those large drops strewn across his bed come from flowers rather than blood.

He must be dreaming, Gojo Satoru tells himself, but the satiny feel of the scarlet petals between his fingertips is very real.

Or perhaps a curse.

“So you expect me to diagnose you over the phone?”

Shoko pulled a drag of her cigarette as though for dramatic effect, blowing it out with a sigh, but continued to listen. She had to be up early anyway and ignoring Gojo would only make him more annoying in her experience.

“So what are your symptoms again?” she asked.

“Apparently my insides are trying to match my beautiful outsides~” he sang.

Shoko rolled her eyes, and as though he could see her, Gojo laughed loudly.

“In all seriousness, I’m turning into a garden. Coughing up flowers apparently.”

“Coughing up flowers, huh?” She leaned a little further against her balcony, her eyes setting on the early morning sunrise she could view from her high rise apartment. “Do you think it’s some type of curse?”

“It’s… different,” he replied, somewhat noncommittally. “I don’t think it’s cursed energy, actually.”

This was unexpected.

“What else do you feel?”

“Uneasy…”

It was Shoko’s turn to laugh. An interesting choice of words coming from him.

“Any ideas?” Gojo insisted.

“I mean, it could be some kind of undetectable curse. I’d know if I got to see you… How does your heart feel when you cough up the flowers?”

“It races.”

“Your mind?”

“Also races… lightheaded.”

“Any thoughts?”

“None.”

“As expected.” she teased, laughing again until she realized that for once, Gojo was silent on the other end of the phone. She scratched her head, then ran her fingers through her fingertips.

“Come in at 2pm today, okay? Don’t be late.”

---

“Well, you’re right,” Shoko stated, stepping back from the examination table, and crossing her arms as she set herself down on a stool to formulate her assessment.

Her friend, already graced with the palest of color palettes, did actually look ill, dark circles prominent enough to match hers marring his porcelain skin. He sat, legs spread apart, and leaning onto the weight of his hands besides him, raising an eyebrow quizzically..

“It’s not cursed energy, alright,” she said, with a sigh. She stretched out her hand.

“You brought the sample, right?”

Gojo, uncharacteristically a bit listless, tossed her the bag of vomited petals from this morning, covered in now dry saliva and other fluids. Not batting an eyelash, Shoko slipped on a pair of gloves and felt inside the bag, petals crumbling at her fingertips.

Definitely not cursed energy. She placed the bag on a disorganized counter behind her, making a mental note of scrutinizing it further under a microscope.

“Ideas?” Gojo asked after he’d decided that the time he’d given her to think was enough. It turned out the idea of being sick irritated him more than he expected.

The very idea of being vulnerable made him slightly nauseous.

Shoko let out a chuckle that sounded more nervous than she had intended.

“My only other thought is Hanahaki disease.”

“Hanahaki?” Gojo repeated.

“Yeah,” she stated. Crossing her legs, she relaxed into her stool further as she watched the young man carefully. “Who’s the unlucky one?”

“You mean?”

“Who’s the unfortunate soul you’re in love with?” She asked again, waiting for his response. The truth was that she was quite shocked at the idea of Gojo being afflicted with Hanahaki, that he of all people could have such a pure, destructive form of love given his track history.

She’d known him long enough to know that his body count was near ridiculous.

He tilted his head, then burst into laughter.

“Myself, duh.”

“Well, auto-Hanahaki isn’t a thing, but I suppose if it was, you’d be the one to be afflicted with it.”

She decided not to press further. “Whoever it is, I’d recommend you settle your feelings as soon as possible,” she added. “People don’t usually die from this but you look surprisingly like shit so I’d be careful.”

Gojo ran a hand through his hair, hopping off the table and pulling back on his shirt.

Settling his feelings may be more complicated than either of the two of them expected.

---

You were in the middle of your drive home when Shoko’s name finally flashed on your dashboard. Grinning, you picked up on the car speaker, mischief in your voice.

“It’s 7:03 and you promised me you’d call at 7 sharp, babe. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“You’re going to hold 3 minutes against me?” Her sultry voice filled your ears as you made the last turn between the grocery store and your apartment, and you hoped she’d be inside your home waiting for you so that you could actually hold something tangible against her.

“I did say I wasn’t going to tolerate you being late for anything anymore, didn’t I?” You teased.

“Bold declaration for someone who isn’t even home yet,” Shoko retorted.

In minutes, you were walking through the door, arms charged with bags full of groceries for dinner you’d planned to cook together. Shoko greeted you with a kiss on the forehead as you placed them on the counter.

“Did you miss me?”

You did, but you stuck out your tongue at her instead. Her hand intertwined with yours briefly before you separated to unpack items for dinner.

“I promise I’ll be less busy,” she offered as the two of you worked in tandem. Your stomach was already growling, so the sooner you had food on the table, the better.

“It’s no problem,” you replied, and you meant it only half-heartedly. It’s true she was less busy than a regular civilian doctor, but it seemed recently that her clinic was getting overrun with more and more curse victims. Things had been bad recently in the world, you figured.

You were happy to step back from the world of sorcery, but small reminders like these persisted.

“Did you still manage to fit Gojo in today?”

She had complained earlier today that Gojo always managed to make a bad day worse.

“Mmm,” is what she offered over the sound of chopping vegetables. You understood that she couldn’t say more, on top of the fact that any discussion of Gojo was already a sore subject. It didn’t have to be, and it shouldn’t have been, but this was what it was.

“Hope he’s okay,” you offered, as you turned on the stove.

“He’ll be fine,” she replied, her voice now quieter than usual.

---

The first and last time Gojo fell in love was in the spring of his third year, he suddenly recalled in the middle of a tryst, as an upsettingly subpar blowjob allowed his mind to wander. The young woman whose gags sounded almost theatrical when compared to the amount of pleasure he was actually receiving was starting to get on his nerves, but instead he took matters in his own hands, wrapping her long ponytail around his wrist before guiding the back of her head so she took him deeper.

If she was gonna choke, she should commit to it.

He’d fallen in love with you at first sight. It was a strange feeling for him to immediately be enamored with someone upon first glance instead, having always been the recipient of many an awe-filled or fawning look.

You were a transfer from the sister school, already a rare occurrence, and what was even rarer was the fact that you both had little affinity to jujutsu and little interest in getting better. One could wonder why you even showed up in the first place, much less why you’d moved from one school to the other.

You’d quit as expected just before graduation, but not before you caught his eye.

“You’re pretty shitty at this,” he’d remarked, attempting to win you over with humor when he’d been assigned to you for both orientation and possible tutoring. “Of course, you can always ask me for help,” he added, flashing pearly whites at you.

He was the opposite of successful in wooing you.

“I suppose since this comes easy to you, this is just funny, right?” You’d quipped.

Your words cut more than both you and he anticipated, but it didn’t exactly matter. You were not interested in him, the way he was interested in you.

But Shoko was different.

You became fast friends and upon your departure from the technical college, you’d remained in contact despite withdrawing from everyone else related to magic.

Even if Gojo tried many times to either bring you back to this world you’d left behind or be part of your new one, you’d rebuffed him every time. Harshly.

“I don’t know why you expect everyone to worship you,” was the last thing you’d said to him. “I’ve already made it clear that I don’t want to be part of this life,” you’d insisted. “Why would I change my mind just because you asked me to?”

You were right.

And yet you loved Shoko.

The young woman whose name he’d forgotten’s face was now pressed against his pubic bone and she now began to squirm, slapping and scratching at him like some kind of trapped animal as she struggled to breathe, reminding him that he’d daydreamed for too long.

“Sorry,” he offered, as he released his grip, leaving her to sputter and choke. Looking at her, knowing that she was not you suddenly made him want to choke himself, to bring forth that impromptu garden of unrequited feelings.

He patted her on the back gingerly, and once it looked like she’d restabilized, pulled her in for another kiss.

If only her lips tasted like yours.

---

Shoko’s hand glided against the curve of your hips, taking in the image of you sleeping softly on your side, facing her. She dipped down to kiss your nose; it was the only time the fact that she had such an issue with sleep benefited her, this ability to almost always wake up before you.

You looked incredibly peaceful while sleeping, and she had to admit this angelic view of you was even better than your features twisted in a pleasured mewl (not that it wasn’t a close battle).

There was a nagging concern in the pit of her stomach, however.

Gojo suffering from unrequited love could be a problem, if the object of his affections did happen to be you. But it had been years ago that he’d pursued you unsuccessfully, why present now?

Why present to her office of all people? Gojo could be inconsiderate, but not to this extent.

But what if he didn’t know that this was what he was feeling? Suppressed feelings taking root and morphing themselves into the tangible he couldn’t ignore?

She sat up, resting her back against the backboard, the lack of a cigarette between her lips being palliated with the gnaw of her thumbnail.

It couldn’t be. Not you.

Please, not you.

---

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Shoko checked in about a week later.

Gojo didn’t share that he’d spent the entire morning in a coughing fit of petals, now definitely streaked with blood, and the entire last night vomiting enough flowers into the toilet that it had overflowed.

He didn’t comment on the entire scarlet sage plants with large green leaves that threatened to sprout from every orifice, not just his throat, but his ears and nostrils, possibly from behind his eyes.

He didn’t know what was next, only that it was getting worse.

The constant fire in the pit of his stomach, the shivers, the chills, the incessant flash of you running through his mind, your name moaned in the darkness, his body drenched in sweat.

The fact that he knew it was because he loves you and cannot find an alternative for you.

The fact that he must have you, and only you.

“Has it gotten better or worse?” Shoko asked.

“I’m fine,” Gojo reassured her, masking the exhaustion in his voice, and she made the mistake of believing him.

---

You awoke in darkness with an icy cold searing into your skin.

It took you a moment to let your eyes adjust to the light and for your body to resume the motor control it had briefly relinquished in sleep before you could reorient yourself. You were laying on ground of some sort, maybe hardwood which implied that you were in some kind of building.

Your head throbbed viciously as you shifted slowly to a sitting position and you almost expected there to be blood as you ran your hands over the back of your head, checking for injury. But there was nothing, just the normal feel of your hair, and the steady thump of your temples in time with your pounding heart.

Looking around, your eyes soon fixed to the low light, not actual darkness to center on a figure in the center of the room.

You let out a gasp of surprise.

Gojo.

Not only had it been a while and he was the last person you expected to see, he looked stranger than he ever had.

He sat perched on a chair backwards, chin leaning on the top of the backrest. His head was tilted, and he watched you warily but fixedly through eyes that looked sunken into their orbits. Their clear blue was still sharp in the darkness.

His skin had taken on an almost ghostly cast to match his hair, and he was thinner than you remembered as though he had been slowly withering away since the last time you saw him. That was ages ago.

Your limbs froze in anticipation. You didn’t have to be a genius to recognize that whatever was happening or was about to happen was bad.

“Why did you bring me here?”

He stared at you blankly for a moment, unmoving. If he weren’t so extraordinarily fatigued, he would have sat up straighter in his chair and offered you a smile. You were still as pretty as the day he first laid eyes on you, after all. What a welcome sight.

“I guess I missed you,” he responded instead, quietly.

Your teeth gritted as you flared up in indignation.

“Excuse me?”

He cut you off with a loud, exasperated sigh, mustering the little bit of energy he had left to run a hand through his hair.

“Listen, I thought I’d forgotten myself, but it turns out that I’m being betrayed by my own body.”

As though to add effect, a coughing fit began just at the end of his sentence, and you watched as he spat flowers into the palm of his hand, lowering them for you to see.

“And it seems like you’re the cause of this.”

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of bloody petals falling through his fingertips and hitting the ground.

He was completely out of his mind.

“I…,” you shakily got yourself up to your feet, not letting your gaze leave Gojo for a second. He didn’t get out of the chair, but he did shift so that he leaned back in the seat, a wicked smile on his face.

“You...?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You spat. “Where the hell am I and how did I get here?”

He finally did get up, although it was done in a dramatic, strained movement. He really had lost weight, you noticed, picking up the flash of pale wrists before he shoved his hands in his pocket.

“I know it sounds crazy but apparently, according to your girlfriend, I’m suffering from lovesickness.”

He bared more of his teeth now, looking more like a grimace than a grin by this time. “I didn’t believe it either, but then I started seeing you in my mind every single waking moment.”

In the split second it took for you to blink, he had crossed the distance between you, so that he was now in your personal space, the palm of his hand inappropriately caressing your face, as tender as you’d expect from Shoko.

And you immediately jumped back and backhanded him as hard as you could.

The crack of your hand was loud and exaggerated, reverberating in the room. For a moment, you froze in shock, surprised the slap had actually landed, before shaking out your now burning hand and following up with a hiss.

“Don’t you fucking touch me.”

Gojo’s icy blue eyes glint, demonic in their delight.

“That’s the feisty bitch I remember.”

---

It was nearing 24 hours since you’d failed to reply to Shoko’s text and the normally collected woman was terribly anxious.

She’d stayed at work late, and still, not a single message from you.

The nagging feeling in the back of her mind returned.

What if it were you?

Gojo couldn’t be that insane, could he?

When she entered your home to find traces of red salvia scattered throughout your home, it only confirmed her fears.

---

“I don’t want to do this either. I mean it.”

It was hard to believe him when he seemed to savor every brush of the lips as he trailed kisses along your inner thighs, spread open with the force of his hands. Gojo had always been deceptively strong, even now, when it looked like he was wilting just as much as the flowers he coughed up.

Your wrists were bound to a fixed point at the head of a foreign bed, and your ankles to the bedposts anteriorly to prevent you from fighting. Not that you would have been able to fight back anyway, but the severe fatigue permeating his very bones made him less willing to risk anything.

When his lips made it to your center to circle your clit, you writhed in disgust, forcing back the sighs of pleasure that would inevitably ensure.

“Y-you can’t - ah - make me love you…”

Gojo paused the swishing of his tongue to give you a look that reeked enough of apathy that it was almost startling.

“I’m aware, but there’s no harm in trying.”

---

“Where the fuck is she?”

Satoru had the ostentatiousness within him to receive the phone call on speaker, so that you could hear Shoko beg to find out your whereabouts.

“She’s with me,” he replied, calmly to her, holding the phone in one hand and pumping fingers in and out of your slippery cunt with the other.

By this time, Gojo had gotten tired of your expletives which no longer retained the initial cute charm, so your screams for help were muffled by a gag over your own wet panties shoved into your mouth.

He’d been at this for hours.

There was a pause on the phone from Shoko’s end that sounded like something crashing to the ground, maybe a plate breaking.

Her tone changed immediately.

“P-please don’t hurt her.”

“I’m not.”

He glanced at you who glared back at him with reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You looked even prettier when you were so totally helpless.

“I would never,” he added.

The pump of his fingers slowed but did not stop.

“This won’t fix you,” Shoko warned, almost in a low protective hiss, her own voice breaking. “This won’t fix anything, you bastard.”

He cut off the phone abruptly, and let out a sigh before shifting his attention back to you.

“Where were we?”

---

Maybe if I pretend, he’ll stop?

Or will he continue? Will I just affirm that he won?

His thrusts were relentless, as was the constant tugging at your hair, the teeth sinking into every inch of your skin, the moans and groans whispered into your ears or your bosom.

A violation in every sense of the word.

You were running out of tears.

The fact that it’s pointless, you and he both know it. Your true love knows it, that this is just an excuse to get back at you. For what? Rejection?

He would die anyway. You would never return his feelings, if there even truly were any.

He continued to rut into you, and flowers started to stain every inch of your bodies, covering them in a deep scarlet.

Red. Red. Red.

Blood. Rage. Power. Passion.

You probably didn’t need the restraints anymore. You had no fight left in you.

Just the satisfaction, however small, that regardless of what he did to you, he would still eventually succumb to nature and perish in a bed of putrid efflorescence.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #collab fic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #shoko x reader #tw noncon #mae.writing

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wonlouvre · 3 years

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hiiii! i would love to request something with mingyu with the trope childhood friends to lovers, if you have the muse for it!! maybe something a little angsty with a happy ending? love your writing and always excited to read more of it <33

Mingyu Space

pairing: non!idol mingyu x non!idol g.n. reader genre: a little bit of angst, fluff warnings: none (please tell me if i missed anything!) word count: 986

💌: if you know the kdrama if we were a season, then you know. although im really not sure if it matches with this scenario lol. anyway, thank you for sending this request anon! i hope you love it! thank you for reading my little o fanfiction as well. it really means a lot that you’re looking forward for more <3

You and Mingyu grew up as neighbors, playmates and classmates. He was already there when you woke up one morning, dashing through the front yard of your house ready to bask under the heat of the sun and make the most out of the day. He owned a bicycle that he let you borrow. In fact, he was the one who taught you how to ride it.

You wouldn’t say you were the best of friends, but you can say that you two knew each other enough to be friends. He waits for you to pass by in the morning so that you can walk to school together. Although most times, you’re the one waiting for him because he sleeps in. Walking together to school went on from elementary school until high school.

The two of you had different circles of friends. You also belonged to different class sections. That’s why it was rare to be around each other at school. But the walk to and from school was for the two of you. The start and the end of the day was made for the two of you.

It all slowly changed when your feelings for him blossomed all the while his was for someone else. It didn’t really affect you at the time but you wouldn’t deny also that it hurt to see him walk a different direction every single day. Mingyu started dating, meanwhile you started focusing on which community college you should enroll in.

Mingyu left town after high school graduation and moved to the city because that’s where he wanted to study for college together with the person he’d probably spend the rest of his life with.

However, Mingyu was never absent from his family’s life. He always comes around during birthdays, graduation ceremonies, holidays and emergencies. He will be wherever his family needs him to be, he’s just one call away. You don’t know why, but you don’t see him whenever he comes back home. You’re either out of town or busy fulfilling shifts at work. Maybe it’s the universe telling you that the two of you getting together wasn’t really meant to be from the get go.

But seeing him greet you at the front door of his house after several years sparked a little hope in you.

“Hey,” he says, hand still holding the doorknob.

Your hold on the flower pot tightens as you blink in surprise. “Hi.”

“Who’s that?” Minseo comes shouting and when she sees you, she smiles. “Y/N!”

Mingyu also smiles at his younger sister’s excitement and lets go of the door as she takes the pot you're holding. He watches you happily give it to her and his smile grows wider.

“I heard Mr. Kim sprained his ankle,” you say and rub your hands together to get rid of the dirt. Minseo already left the two of you as she told her father about the flowers you brought. “My mom has been into flowers lately and she likes arranging them.”

Mingyu nods attentively. “Thank you.”

You purse your lips, afraid that you have nothing to say anymore. “I’m gonna go. It was nice seeing you Mingyu.”

He panics. “Wait!”

You stop before taking another step. You look at him expectantly, what he has to say or what he has to do.

“Do you wanna come inside and catch up?” He asks while avoiding your eyes and scratching the back of his neck. You don’t fail to notice how his shirt rode up due to the action.

You slap yourself back to reality and clear your throat. “Uh, yeah sure. Why not?”

Mingyu welcomes you by keeping the door open as you follow him inside. You shut it close and remove your shoes and take a sit on the couch you're familiar with. Mingyu fetches some water, placing them on the coffee table and sits beside you, not too close yet not too far.

“How have you been?” He’s the first one to ask.

“I’ve been good. You?” You ask back and take the glass to sip some of the liquid, as if it’s going to give you any more courage.

Mingyu smiles and gives you a nod saying he’s also been good. “We really didn’t get the chance to properly say goodbye back then, huh?”

“Yeah,” you sadly agree. You look back on the day he left and recall how it went. “I went to the train station, but I was already too late.”

Mingyu’s head that’s hanging low sprung up at what you said. “What?”

“What? You thought I wouldn’t say goodbye to you?” You ask, chuckling a little.

“I- I don’t know. I just thought you didn’t want to see me again because it was obvious we were having a falling out.”

You nod in understanding before finally confessing. “It doesn’t matter. I distanced myself because I knew I was harboring feelings for you.”

His smile was sad when he mutters, “And I was distancing myself because I felt guilty. I felt like I was doing something wrong for liking someone else.”

You laugh. “Which you weren’t. I’m way past that.”

A silence is shared between the two of you and it weighs in your heart that maybe you’re only clearing the air and that perhaps, there is nothing left to say or left to do. Maybe Mingyu was really just guilty, that's why he invited you inside to get rid of it. He’ll probably leave again after his father’s ankle heals and you can’t be the city he’s currently in love with.

And it’s okay. The “Mingyu space” inside your heart tells you that it’s okay because again, you’re way past it.

“Do you maybe want to go around town this weekend?” He suddenly asks and your heart skips a beat. “Of course, only if you’re free.”

Your cheeks warms and your smile can't be hidden anymore. “I’d love to.”

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bopbopstyles · 4 years

Photo

ELEVATED SURFACES

RATING: R/smut (sex, heavy alcohol use, smoking, lots of cursing)

WORD COUNT: 11.6k

CATEGORIES: fratboy!harry

MASTERLIST (check it out for extras) | INSPO TAG | PLAYLIST

a/n: as a recently graduated srat girl and lover of a good frat party, this one shot was intended to fill the whole in my heart which is LEGIT frat Harry. he is fratty and hot and long haired and a mess. if u like this try out TEMPTATION which is my other frat!h series and the first thing i ever wrote on this gd website (he’s not as fratty but we love him a LOT)

a/n pt.2: as a note, i want to make very clear that frats and greek organizations frequently harbor predators and abusers. i do not in any way condone that behavior or that reality, and i would like to bring attention to a petition to remove a fraterity that had done truly many horrible things--your signature would be a huge help. for survivors of assault, you are not alone, and it is not your fault.

As you rose up, your eyes locked on a figure in the doorway of the basement. His long hair was loose, curls that had been pulled out from the hair tie he always had on his wrist, a tight white shirt that you knew meant all of his tattoos were on display. Harry was watching you, you realized as you twisted your hips and bounced your arms up and down with the beat, singing the words. So you kept his gaze, and just to taunt him, when the chorus hit again, you dropped down, ass hitting your heels, eyes on his the whole time.

Harry is a very fratty frat boy and Y/N is a really good dancer

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

“We really should not be still going to our own mixers,” Emily said to you, fluffing her hair and rotating to check her ass in her jeans. You looked up from where you were sitting on your bed, a gin and tonic in one hand to get your blood flowing before the party started. Emily sighed, and then turned from the mirror to you, grabbing the coffee cup that had never seen coffee, just alcohol. “Are people even going?”

You nodded, tossing your phone next to you and leaning against the bed frame. “Alexis is on her way over—she got held up finishing an essay. Maya said she might come, I tried to convince her by promising I’d bring my flask and you’d have your Juul.”

“I swear, she has to just give in and get one of her own.” Emily took a long sip and crossed her arms.

“She claims that will make her addicted.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “She’s already addicted—she uses half my pods and ends up hanging out with whatever guy will let her take a hit. Is it just going to be us and all the new members?”

“No, I think some juniors are going. And definitely the sophomores—they’re all on the little hunt.” You got up, going to your computer to change the song, scrolling through your comprehensive and well-curated pregame playlist. “Plus, who gives a fuck, we’ll only be there for an hour or two for the free alcohol and then we’re hitting the bars.”

“True.” A knock came from the door, and Emily hollered to come in, and Alexis appeared in the doorway, her makeup looking utterly flawless as always. You had always wanted Alexis’s wardrobe and told her constantly, to which Alexis always replied that she wished you were the same size. Unfortunately, Alexis was a solid five inches shorter than you and had a completely different bra size, making sharing quite difficult.

“Bitches, I brought tequila!” Alexis swung into the room in a cloud of perfume, and threw her arms around you and Emily’s shoulders. “Come on, we need to get tipsy before we get to this mixer. Nick already texted me making sure I was coming.”

“Grab the shot glasses,” You replied, nodding to the makeshift bar cart in the corner, which as laden with glasses of all kinds and all your alcohol. “Are you hooking up with him tonight?”

Alexis shrugged, pulling her tequila from her bag and setting it on your desk before turning and going for the shot glasses. “Probably. I don’t know, he’s been weird lately—we hooked up on Monday night, but then he got all weird and left like immediately after and hasn’t texted me since. Barely acknowledged me when we saw each other in the library.”

“Was the sex weird?” Emily asked, unscrewing the top on the tequila so she could pour.

“Yeah,” Alexis replied, holding the glasses steady while Emily poured. “Like weirdly…intense? I let him come inside me which was probably a stupid idea, but I’m on the IUD so we should be all good. And then I offered to let him stay and he just got all flustered and said he had to go.”

You took your full shot glass, and you all clinked before tossing them back, the alcohol burning on your throat. You hated tequila shots but Alexis loved them, and you did admit they did their job. “Do you think he’s caught feelings?”

Alexis’s eyes widened. She had been pining after Nick for ages, his tall basketball stature and surprisingly good fashion sense a dime a dozen. Much less, apparently the sex was insane, so what wasn’t to like? “You think? I thought it might’ve not been his vibe.”

Emily grabbed the bottle. “Another?” You all nodded, and she poured again, The Weeknd crooning in the background. “Just see what happens tonight, feel out what his vibe his.”

“Good idea.” You slammed back another shot, hissing before setting down the glass. “Okay, that’s enough tequila or you two are going to be carrying me home tonight.”

Emily and Alexis laughed, before taking seats on your bed, continuing to chatter about the night ahead. It was a Friday, your favorite night because it was usually just mixers, no general parties, which as a senior you had grown to despise. The fighting for watered down alcohol, packed bodies and horrific gender ratio was simply no longer something you had the energy to deal with. Mixers were your preferred zone, filled with your sorority sisters who you adored, the opportunity to actually hang out with the frat brothers whose presence you enjoyed, and usually pong. Sometimes they even let you DJ because you had the best party playlists. The president of Sig Ep had actually asked for the link one time and you’d heard they used it sometimes when the brothers didn’t want to man the computer anymore.

You surveyed your outfit in your narrow mirror, the black denim jeans and simple white tank that showed a bit of stomach and your tan you’d worked hard on during your winter escape to the Caribbean with your lineage. It was simple, yet it suited your needs—after three and a half years of college parties, you had discovered getting dressed up for frat parties was a useless activity, since your clothes would get drenched in jungle juice and sweat anyways. You left your best outfits for Saturday nights spent clubbing downtown.

If you were being honest, the whole reason you were going tonight was because at the last mixer you’d had with Beta, you’d turned around on the dance floor to find Harry’s eyes on you. You were already dancing with another one of the brothers and ended up making out with him in a corner until you got bored, but you hadn’t been able to get the sight of his eyes on you out of your head.

You’d known Harry since freshman year, your interactions limited mostly to mixers and the occasional run-in in the dining halls when you exchanged pleasantries, or the one time he’d volunteered for a karaoke team for your sorority philanthropy event and you’d been in charge of his team. But the two of you had rarely ever spent time together. That didn’t mean you hadn’t had a lingering crush on him since you’d first laid eyes on him, though, and over the years he’d only gotten more attracted. A body that filled out his white t-shirts and black jeans, hair long and sweeping his shoulders to where he wore it in a bun most times, a jaw that could cut glass. He was hot and he knew it, as did everyone else on campus.

As juniors you had both been on the executive boards of your respective Greek organizations and had ended up in meetings together about housing violations and social calendars, but it hadn’t ever led to much more than you both complaining about how fucking annoying FIJI and their insistent requests for a house was, considering they’d trashed their last one. But this year, you’d found his eyes on you multiple times, and you wondered if perhaps your time had arrived. You’d both always danced around each other and you were curious after all these years if he was finally interested in hooking up. Not that you really expected much more, or were looking for much else—you were a senior, after all, and you were enjoying it.

“Y/N.” Alexis’s voice ripped you from your musings over Harry, her fingers snapping from her spot on your bed. “What’s got you thinking hard over there?”

“Harry?” Emily guessed, one eyebrow raising. “Emmett said he’ll be there tonight.”

“He’s always there,” you replied, because he was. Like you, he seemed to enjoy the mixers, but usually avoided the open parties unless he was on door duty.

“You’d hook up with him, right?”

You looked at Alexis. “Obviously. He’s so fucking hot.”

She laughed, as did Emily. “Then go for it, girl. It’s not like he’ll say no.”

You shrugged. “He might. Never know.”

“I seriously doubt that. You look hot as fuck, as usual, and are the life of the party. Beta adores you. They literally asked you to move in this year when they had an open spot.”

“It was a joke,” you reminded them, because it was—you wouldn’t ever be allowed to live in the house and they knew that. It was true though, you had become a bit of a groupie over the past few years, preferring the more laid back vibe in their house. You’d become friends with all the senior guys, except the weird or obnoxious ones, and had become a regular invite to Bachelor Monday watch parties in their second floor living room. You brought snacks and your friends, they provided the booze and the cable.

“Still,” Emily said, nudging you the toe of her black booties. “Don’t sell yourself short, babes. He is missing a brain if he’s not interested in you.”

“And seriously missing out,” Alexis added. You shot her a look, but she just chuckled. “Bitch, I lived next door to you last year. You are loud.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, laughing, but she was right. You were. Guys had told you on countless occasions, but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to care all that much. “Come on, we should go. Maya is texting me asking when we’re leaving.”

“Do you have your cigs?” Alexis asks you, downing the rest of the drink she’d made while you had been staring into space.

It was your vice, one you had picked up during a semester abroad and only did when you were drunk. You knew you should stop, but something about it made you feel powerful, a bit badass, so you kept doing it. “Obviously. Emmett will have a fit if I don’t.” You swiped your pack from your desk drawer and your trusty pale blue lighter, and shoved them into the pocket of your jacket. With one last swig of your drink, your veins buzzing with alcohol just the right amount, the three of you were off, singing an old Hannah Montana song in the elevator down to the lobby of your dorm.

One of the pledges was working the door, but happily let you three into the frat house. The lights on the main floor were off, except for the ones in the front study that doubled as a coat room, where you tied the arms of your jackets together and set them in the corner so you didn’t lose them. Your cigs were transferred to your back pocket, and you just prayed you didn’t forget they were there and crush them again.

Josephine and another junior were the sober sisters, and offered you three hugs before checking your names off the list. You got positive points for being there, as if that was the main reason you had shown up.

“Emmett!” Emily called, and the blond-headed boy’s head flipped up from where he was standing behind the bar. A Gatorade water cooler was sitting on the high bar, stacks of red solo cups and boxes of white claws and beers sitting on top of one another.

Aka, your happy place. “He’s bartending, thank god,” you said, and grabbed Emily and Alexis, weaving through the crowd. Girls stopped you all as you moved, hugs and squeals at your appearance. You had to admit, you were popular in your sorority, but mainly because you had made it your mission to get your money worth. As a result of your exec position, you’d gotten to know the sophomore member class and you adored them all, chaotic messes who always turned up with you and made you laugh hysterically. Honestly, you were sad to graduate because it meant leaving behind so many fun friends and memories.

“We’ve been waiting for you three,” Emmett said when you arrived in front of him. He was wearing the frat’s homecoming shirt from the previous year and his eyes were dilated, obvious that he had smoked before. “What are we drinking?”

“What’s the mix?” You asked, pointing to the cooler.

He grabbed three cups, knowing you would be taking it. “Shit ton of vodka, Kool Aid, water, the usual.”

“My favorite,” you replied, blowing him a kiss. “How is it downstairs?”

He filled the cups and handed them to you all. “They just wrapped up pong so it’s still getting moving.”

Alexis took a long sip before grabbing your hand. “Sounds like we need to get people dancing.” With that she turned around, her long slick black hair moving in a circle. “Let’s dance!” She called, and the girls around you cheered, following the three of you down the slippery steps to the basement.

Downstairs, The Motto was playing and you bobbed your head along with the beat, moving your hips as you entered the large basement space. It was dark except for a glowing sign with the Beta letters in narrow neon lights, casting the room with a tint of green. Your battered frat shoes, an old pair of white Vans, stuck against the beer and jungle juice-covered floor as you made your way to the middle. A couple of other girls and brothers were scattered around the floor, and you broke from Emily and Alexis’s hands as you twirled on the floor.

You raised your cup above your head and started dancing, rapping the lyrics by heart, moving your hands and hips along with the song. Emily and Alexis sang along with you and some of the younger girls showed up, then some other seniors who shared your love for frat parties. All of a sudden your little was screaming and running towards you, Mallory’s arms wrapping around your waist.

“Oh my fuck god, MOM,” she screamed, using the nickname she’d had for you since you’d taken her as your little two years ago. You laughed and threw your arm around her shoulders, screaming the lyrics. There was a specific reason you had taken Mallory as your little, and it was because she lost her shit at parties just as much as you did. You two were a dynamic duo like no other, and if your grand little didn’t have a huge exam on Monday, she’d be here too and you would all be dancing together as usual.

You downed your jungle juice, the sugary drink combined with the loud music blasting and your friends making your adrenaline kick into high gear. And then Maya appeared, arms waving like crazy, and then she dropped it low and you remembered why you adored her, even if she always stole Emily’s Juul. She had a beer in one hand and a white claw in the other, ready for the night ahead.

Then Emmett appeared, trailed by some of the other brothers in tank tops and t-shirts, one carrying a six pack on his shoulder and handing out warm beers to the brothers he passed. Emmett beelined for Emily, his arm thrown around her shoulder, their completely platonic friendship on show for everyone. The song ended and you took a breath, crushing your cup and tossing it into the corner so you could have your hands free. Emily pulled her Juul free and took a hit, passing it to Maya next without a question between them.

The opening notes of Come Get Her started and you immediately grabbed Alexis and Emily, beelining for the bar that the speakers rested on, something you weren’t even sure how it got there, but it was your favorite elevated surface of all time. Wide enough to dance, tall enough to be high but not too high where you couldn’t mostly stand. You clamored up, coming to nearly full height and turning to your friends.

“Somebody come get her, she’s dancing like a stripper!” You screamed, your friends coming in a circle in front of the three of you, some other girls getting up on the bar. When the line came through again, you decided fuck it, and you dropped your ass low, bending your knees and tipping your head back.

When you danced, you didn’t give a single fuck about impressing guys or any of that. You just simply loved to dance with your friends, move your hips, and didn’t care what you looked like. Mallory screamed when you got low, your name falling from her lips in a squeal of joy.

That had him moving. He joined a circle where Emmett and some other senior guys were dancing with some other girls, beers in hand as they shifted back and forth. But you knew what would have them all actually dancing and screaming and jumping along with you. You needed to see Harry like that—loose and free. So you turned around and grabbed the attention of the sophomore on aux, his name something along the lines of Justin, and screamed your song choice to him. He gave you a thumbs up, and then you turned back around. Your hair was sticking to the back of your neck, and you rolled it into a loose, high bun, pulling the elastic on your wrist around it as you swayed to the song.

You could hear the song ending, and with your eyes on Harry, you decided you would get down. He was next to a pledge with a six pack, and you wanted a beer. You were mixing alcohols like nobody’s business tonight, but you’d done worse. You squatted down and kicked your feet out, Mallory’s hand coming out to help you down. “You good?” She asked, leaning in to you.

“Yeah, just hot,” you replied. “Going to get a beer.” She nodded and let you go. There wasn’t a need to watch your friends as much in a normal party, since you knew all the girls here. Maya pulled you in for a hug as you moved, and then the current president called out your name from where she stood with her boyfriend, a white claw in her hand.

Squeezing next to Emmett, you nudged the waist of the pledge next to you. “Can I get one?” You asked, pointing to the beers.

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling one from the case and handing it to you. It was a Natty Light, but you really could’ve given fewer fucks—they were a frat after all, they didn’t buy the good stuff.

You popped the tab and took a long swig, the liquid quelling your rough throat from singing. And then, the song changed, and you smiled, eyes meeting Harry’s. You decided you were going to draw him out. “I got hoes, callin’!” You screamed, the song starting the speakers, and the boys all joined in. Fuck it, you thought, and chugged the rest of your beer so that you could jump, your arms outstretched and pumping up and down. Your bun was bouncing on your head and you were grinning, the music flowing through you.

Harry was watching you, his head tapping, hair swishing back and forth. You needed more. So you moved into the center of the circle, knowing the guys would hype you up, and reached for him. “Why aren’t you dancing?” You asked him playfully, and his eyebrow shot up.

“Fuck! Shit! Bitch!” The best lines of the song ran through the speaker and you just grabbed his hand, which was warm, and pulled on him. Suddenly his body was in front of you, close, and you tried to process what your original plan was. But then, Harry started moving, back and forth, head bopping, rapping the lyrics in time, and you knew you had gotten him. “I be ballin’, like a motherfuckin’ pro,” you sang, starting up to jump, and to your surprise, Harry joined you, a carefree expression finally crossing his face. He was screaming the lyrics then, hair bouncing as he moved. He rotated, grabbing the shoulders of another one of the boys, who joined in with him, them screaming the lyrics at each other.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the change in his demeanor so sudden. When the song changed, T-Shirt by Migos coming on, he turned back to you. All of a sudden, his lips were next to your ear and you choked on air. “Fuckin’ love that song,” he said, accent smooth in your ear.

“You and every other frat boy,” you replied, stepping backwards. You had ended up at the side of the circle closer to the wall, and so you moved towards it, freeing yourself from the heavy circle of boys.

The song was slower, not a jumping and dancing song, but one that suggested the slow grinding of hips and closeness of bodies. Which fuck it, you wanted. Desperately. He was looking at you with an intense stare, smile sloppy from alcohol, Harry sweaty on his forehead, arms straining under the fabric of his shirt. He was following you, taking a step away from his friends and following your body as if magnetic. So you just went for it, putting your weight lower, and rolled your hips back and forth to the music.

Mama told me/not to sell work/Seventeen five/same color T-shirt

Your eyes met his, and the shared intensity of his gaze stirred something inside of you. Desire. A need to know what his skin felt like, a desire that had been lingering since you first saw him. Your hands moved on their own, draping over his shoulders, and his hands found the curve of your waist, and suddenly you knew what his skin felt like on yours. They found the bare skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your jeans, burning your already warm skin.

Justin-something on aux changed the song, deciding that was enough, and then No Role Modelz was on, and you moved, swaying back and forth, your chests coming closer and closer. His face was inches from yours and you wondered what his lips would taste like. The slow rap and smooth feel of the beat had your eyes fluttering shut, mind twirling from the alcohol and the lowlights, the heat of the packed basement. If you didn’t have Harry under your hands, you might have left for a smoke break, an excuse for air. But you weren’t letting go of him anytime soon. So you turned around and when your ass touched his dick you couldn’t help but smile—he was already hard. You felt his arm move and watched him sip his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. You rolled your hips against him and then reached up, grabbing the can and bringing it to your own lips, taking a sip and watching him watch you. The two of you were taunting each other, acting on a feeling that had always been an undercurrent in every one of your interactions, a slight sexual tension that if you pulled on would become taught.

Which as you pressed against him, you fucking yanked on. His free hand clasped around your hip, holding you close and swaying in time with you. You could feel the sweat that had soaked through his t-shirt a bit, but you didn’t care—you were sweaty yourself, so was everyone in the room. It was part of the appeal, the fact that everyone was a mess and no one cared. He was rock hard between the denim of both of your jeans, and you could feel the power racing through you, the fact that you had him like this going straight to your head.

When Mr. Brightside came on, you decided that was your smoke break time. You couldn’t stand the song after so many years, and the feeling of bodies pressing together as they jumped was too much for you. “I’m going to get some air,” you said, turning around so you could face Harry.

He was so close to you, just inches away, when his tongue licked over his lip. “Can I come with?”

“Sure.” You grabbed his hand as you moved through the crowd, pushing between frat brothers and your sorority sisters who were all dancing together to the song. When you made it through the exit you sighed, the stale air of the stairwell even feeling better than that room.

“Fuck it was hot in there,” Harry said, your hand dropping from his. He followed you up the stairs and you nodded. You pushed open the door and a Doja Cat song was playing, some people upstairs scattered around, drinking and talking, some sitting on couches together. You waved to Maya, who seemed to have also needed a break, and nodded to the door as if to tell her you were getting some air.

“I’m going to smoke if that’s okay,” you told him as you made your way to the door, pulling your cigs and lighter from your back pocket.

He nodded. “Can I bum one?”

You opened the heavy oak door and said hello to the handful of guys sitting on the steps, who were manning the door and making sure no one random got in. “Sure,” you responded to Harry finally, sitting down on the concrete half wall that lined the landing. You could hear the slight thump of the music, but for the most part it was quiet, the the frat house a couple yards away not throwing anything tonight.

Harry leaned against the wall close to you, taking your offered cigarette. You flicked the lighter and raised it to your cigarette, taking a drag when it lit. Then you handed it to Harry, who accepted it gladly, doing the same. The smoke filled your lungs and your drunken mind considered that you should quit, but at the same time, you liked having something to do when you got air, an excuse to be on the steps. One of the other guys asked for one, and you handed one over, making a new friend.

And then you looked back to Harry. “So,” you said, tapping the ash on your cig. “How have you been?”

You hadn’t seen him since your last mixer with Beta, but you two hadn’t talked in ages. “Good,” he replied. “Busy with classes and stuff.”

“What are you studying again?”

“Political science,” he answered, and your eyebrows shot up. You had expected business or economics, like most of the Beta brothers.

“Why poli sci?”

He shrugged, tapping the ash before taking another drag. “Dunno, really. Took a class freshman year and liked it enough.”

“You don’t want to work in politics or something?”

“I don’t really know what I want to do, honestly.”

“You make it sound like that’s unusual,” you tell him. “Most people don’t.”

He chuckles, a low sound from the back of his throat, and you like the sound of it. “I’ll tell my dad that next time we talk.” You could tell there was a story there, but didn’t push. It wasn’t that kind of moment. “What about you?”

“Psych and pre-law,” you reply, the answer rolling off your tongue with ease.

“Oh? What kind of law?”

You took another drag before answering. “Criminal defense, but I want to work with people on death row.”

His eyes widen, just as you expected. It’s the usual response from people. “Fuck, that’s awesome. What made you interested in it?”

“I just got really into true crime when I was in middle school and ended up doing research on the criminal justice system and what a fucking disaster it is. Death sentences and death row especially. So I want to overturn false convictions.”

He puffed a cloud of smoke, and you watched his lips form a circle, a dark pink color that drew you in. “And you said most people don’t know what they want to do.”

A breeze made the hair on your arm hair stand up, and you rubbed the skin to warm up. It was cold tonight. “I’m unusual,” you told him. “Most of my friends have no idea what they’re doing after graduation.”

You had reached the end of your cigarette, so you dropped it to the ground and stamped it out, the combination of the nicotine and alcohol making your head deliciously hazy. “I’m going back in.”

Harry dropped his cigarette too, putting out the bud. “Lead the way.” He swiped his ID card on the door to let you both in, and you held the door for him, the sound of Post Malone sweeping through the house. “Want another drink?”

You mentally considered how drunk you were, came to the conclusion that you could take some more, and nodded. “White claw, please.” If you laid off the jungle juice you would last a bit longer, and you weren’t particularly wanting to get wasted tonight—you wanted to see where this went.

Harry nodded and walked towards the bar, while you turned to the group of girls closest to you, who were drinking juice and chattering amongst themselves. They immediately started asking you about Harry, about what was happening, and you shrugged because you truly didn’t know. “He’s hot,” one of them, a sophomore named Cat said. “You going to go for it?”

“If the opportunity presents itself,” you replied. You weren’t going to push with Harry, the last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in front of him. You’d follow his lead, see what he was interested in, matching his flirting and see where it went. Not to say you weren’t forward, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable either. “What about you guys?”

Cat launched into an in-depth analysis of the weird flirtation she’d been having with a junior guy in Beta, how they’d hooked up once but not again, but he kept looking at her. You encouraged her to go for it if she wanted, and she grinned, perhaps just needing an extra push. All of a sudden, you felt a hand on your back, and Harry was next to you, a Black Cherry white claw in one hand, a Heineken in the other.

“If I’d know there were Heinekens I would’ve had that,” you told him, accepting your white claw.

His hair fell behind his shoulders when he tipped the beer back. “Most girls don’t like beer.”

“Well you’ve met one now.” You liked messing with him, dropping flirtations into the conversation and pushing buttons. It made him smirk at you and you loved it, the twinkle in his eyes and the pinkness of his lips.

“H.” A guy appeared behind Harry. “We’re out of vodka.”

“How are we out?” He asked, taking another sip of his beer.

The guy, a pledge from the looks of him, grimaced. “Someone took one of the bottles.”

“Fuck,” Harry said with a sigh. “Have one of the other pledges go get more and keep the receipt. Get more claws while you’re out, we’re running low.” With that, he turned back to you, exhaling sharply. The boy disappeared, sensing that was his cue.

Right as you were about to speak, you heard the opening notes of I Love It from downstairs, and you turned to the girls around you. “Downstairs,” you told them, and they all tossed back the rest of their drinks before tossing them into the trash can a few paces away. You opened the door to the basement and then looked back to Harry. “Coming?”

That made him move, following you down into the dark stairwell that smelled of stale beer and sweat. He stayed close to you, and when your foot slipped on a stair he reached out to steady you, a hand to your side that made your body warm with more than just the temperature of the room. The girls in front of you streamed into the room, screaming the lyrics to the song.

“You’re such a fucking hoe/I love it!” You joined in, laughing at the lyrics in spite of yourself, but the truth is you fucking loved the song. It was absurd and was filthy, but you liked screaming the lyrics in a room with a bunch of your friends.

You twirled around and walked into the room backward, moving your body with the beat, taunting Harry to follow you. Which he did, as if connected to you by a magnet. You could see his lips moving, the lyrics falling from his lips to match you. You stopped moving in the middle of the room and Harry’s hands found your hips. Turning in his hands, a coy smile on your face, you knew what this song was going to involve. Hips moved on their own accord, grinding hard against him. You could feel his breath on your neck, the lyrics I’m a sick fuck/I like a quick fuck/I like my dick sucked/I’ll buy you a sick truck in your ear. Hearing the words on his lips for some reason had your blood pumping, and you wanted to hear them again on a loop.

His dick was hard against your ass and your hands stretched behind you, finding his hips to hold him close. His head fell to your neck, nosing at your skin, his fingers on the bare skin at your waist clenching. Your hips moved in time with each other, his body dropping to be at the height as yours, chasing the desire that was running between you. Your head tipped back against his chest and eyes fluttered shut, letting the alcohol in your veins and the music pounding in your ears take over. All you could feel was him, the cut of his body and the strength of his arms next to you, his hips insistently rubbing against yours and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually grind on him.

The song changed, Work Out by J. Cole sounding through the speakers and you pulled away from him and turned to face him. You were going to put on a bit of a show, you decided, because why the fuck not. It was clear at this point that he wanted you as much as you wanted him, so why pretend like anything else was happening?

So when the lyrics Let me see you get/High then go low/Now, girl won't you drop that thing down to the floor? fell through the speakers you dropped to the ground, Harry’s eyes following you came back up slowly, your body just inches from his. His hands fell on your body, grabbing at your waist to keep you close, pressing his hips forward to grind right over the front of your jeans and you panted from both the heat in the room and the pleasure ripping through your body. When the chorus came again, you dropped down, and this time you ran your hands down his legs lightly as you moved, fingers dancing down and then back up the seams of his jeans.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he said and you could barely hear him over the music.

His eyes met yours, searing into yours, a question passing between you. And then you were moving towards each other, an answer to the question in the way your lips met, slotted together and pulled at one another. Your hands were pulling at his shirt, grabbing at the material and the skin underneath, one of his hand holding your head close to his, the other at your waist. It was fast and messy, your lip pulling on his bottom one, before chasing him, his tongue brushing at the seam of your lips before dipping inside.

Kissing Harry was hot. It was like setting your whole body on fire with desire and you just wanted to know what the rest of him felt like because his lips were sending you to another planet. He tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth and a moan escaped you, desperation clear in your throat. You could feel bodies press around you, the notes of Fire by Louis the Child ringing through the room. When the beat dropped, you knew people were jumping, the guys doing that thing where they slammed into each other like some kind of mosh. But Harry just stayed there, pulling his lips into yours, drawing wet pants from your body. He was holding tight to you as if you were going to slip away, even though that was the last place you wanted to go.

But you decided you wanted to tease him a bit more. Not let him get away, but just…push him a bit. So you drew away, enough to where you could dance, your sorority sisters at your back—you had seen Alexis move behind you. You grinding on her, your asses touching, and you could hear her laughter, before moving against you. It was something you two always did, dancing partners since the moment you met.

“If I go down in flames/The smoke going to spell my name,” you sang.

Harry watched you, his eyes burning a line down your body, the ministrations of your hips against Alexis’s. And then he was moving towards you, his front pressed yours and his lips were at your ear. “Drink?”

You nodded, and let him pull you through the crowd and towards the stairs. People were moving down them and you pressed yourself to the wall to let them pass, before following Harry up the stairs to the main floor. “Is there anything better than that shit?” You asked him when you stood next to him, his arm loosely around your waist, holding you to him.

His gaze drifted to the bar and then back to you. “I’ve got some stuff in my room.”

You knew he lived in the house, the result of being on exec last year and having first dibs after the current exec board was placed, the hierarchy the same as in your own sorority house. “Do you have mixers?” As much as you drank, you still hated drinking most straight alcohol, especially if you were going to be sipping on it. When he nodded, you replied, “Let’s go.”

You caught the eye of Emily who was standing on the other side of the room, watching you, and you pointed upstairs to tell her where you were going. After she gave you a thumbs up, letting you know she’d check in before leaving, a silent conversation well rehearsed over the years, you followed Harry up the stairs. Other guys and girls streamed down them, coming from rooms where they were smoking or using the bathroom or drinking just like you.

“What floor are you on?” You asked when you passed the first floor, twisting to go up the second flight.

“Third,” he replied, not pausing no the stairs. “It’s quieter.”

That made sense, as you could imagine if he didn’t feel like partying one night it would be kind of hard to avoid. You followed him up, the sound of the music fading as you made your way higher into the frat house. You passed other girls on the way you exchanged hugs and promises to catch up after chapter on Monday night. Finally, you made it to the third floor, and Harry pushed open the door to a room with his name on it.

You followed him in and the first thing you noticed was how much of a boy’s room it was. Messy comforter, clothes on the floor, alcohol bottles lining the window sill, the frat’s flag above his bed. Some posters and photos littered the opposite wall, a single framed photo of what looked like his family on his dresser, along with some random items like cologne and a brush and hair ties. A pair of athletic shoes and boots were shoved into one corner, and a tub of protein powder sat on top of his mini-fridge, along with a stack of solo cups. On his desk was a bong and a couple of lighters, his computer sitting next to it on a charger. The dorm room was narrow, most of it taken up with a double bed that you were a bit confused by, since most rooms just had a single.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” he said, shutting the door behind you. If you focused on it, you could hear nerves in his voice, a low laugh in the back of his throat as he surveyed his room. “Didn’t expect to have people up here.”

“It’s fine,” you told him, moving into the middle of the room to get out of the doorway, taking in the space.

“Uh, I’ve got Tito’s, Jack, some gin one of the guys got me.”

It drew you back to the whole reason you were in his room. He was standing next to his mini-fridge, a solo cup in his hand as he looked at you. “What mixers do you have?”

“Coke, juice, and tonic,” he replied. “Sorry, it’s not much.”

You shook your head. “Tito’s and tonic,” you told him. Usually you would’ve been all over the Jack and coke option, but considering how much you’d already drank the last thing you needed was to mix clear and dark liquors.

You watched him pour, leaning against his desk as you waited. He handed you the cup, asking you to try it and tell him if it was too strong. You took a sip and it was strong, but not too much. Then, he made a whiskey and coke you were jealous of, and the two of you stood in his room, not quite sure what to do. You didn’t want to go back down the party, the feeling of fresh air—even though it smelled vaguely like college boy, a mixture of sweat and cologne that you keenly recognized—feeling good on your skin.

“Want to listen to some music?” He asked, moving towards you. There was a bluetooth speaker on his desk, you realized, and shifted away so he could get at his computer.

You decided to sit on the bed, thighs resting on the soft comforter. “Sure.” You pulled your cigarettes and lighter from your back pocket, before looking back at him.

He fiddled with the speaker, the sound of it connecting ricocheting in the small room, before clicking keys to wake up his computer. “Any preferences?”

“I’m good with whatever,” you replied. “I like pretty much everything.” It was true, you had everything from country to Top 40s and rap on your Spotify, a variety of playlists to fit the mood.

He pulled on his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger as he perused his Spotify and you tried not to focus on the sight. Low music began to sound in the room and you immediately recognized the beginning notes of Let Her Go by 6LACK, a smile drifting onto your face. He must have noticed, because he turned around, his cup in his hand. “You like 6LACK?”

“More like obsessed,” you replied and he chuckled.

He sat on the edge of the desk, his knees falling open, his back slumped a bit. “I don’t know a single girl who even knows who he is.”

You took a sip of your drink before replying, resting your body back on one hand. “They must not have good music taste, then.”

Harry gave you a small smile, an edge of playfulness to it. “Where’s home for you?”

“Denver,” you responded. “You?”

“Holmes Chapel.”

“Where’s that?”

He brushed a hand through his hair, the long locks slipping between his fingers and you couldn’t help but wish you were the one doing it. “South of Manchester. It’s a small town, lots of fields and shit like that.”

You’d never been to England so you had no idea of where Manchester was, but you didn’t ask. “Do you like it?”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t want to like, move back or anything. But it’s a good place to go home to.”

Denver felt the same way to you—it was home, but it wasn’t a place you saw a future in. You’d go where law school took you, and then the work, wherever you could make the biggest impact. “Where do you want to go?”

The solo cup hung in his hands, and he twirled it a bit, the rim of the cup pressed between his fingers. “LA, maybe. New York. Not sure, really. London, most likely, unless I can get a job and someone to sponsor my Visa so I can stay.”

“Do you like the states?” You knew you were asking a lot of questions, but you’d never had a conversation like this with him and you were curious. Curious about him, about who he was, underneath all the frat shit that he loved so much.

“It’s different than home,” he replied, and you understood what he meant. “I don’t think I’ll want to be here forever, but it’s good for right now. Got friends here now.”

You took another sip of your drink, and then pushed yourself up, the need to pee suddenly overtaking your body. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall. Make sure you slam on the door before locking it—it got fucked up during homecoming and hasn’t been the same ever since.”

You nodded and took your cup with you, four years of college ingraining some lessons into your bones. Down the hall, you found a blond wood door and a doorknob that was barely attached to the door. You pushed it open and shut it quickly, shoving against it with your shoulder so that you could flip the lock. Inside, you wondered for the millionth time why boys were in capable from having a properly stocked bathroom. Head & Shoulders shampoo littered the floor of the shower, a flimsy shower curtain that had come free from a couple of the rings. You squatted to pee, grabbing the toilet paper roll that sat on top of the toilet, no one even bothering to properly put it away.

As you peed, you scrolled through your phone. Mallory had texted saying she was going bar hopping with some of her friends and you told her to text you if she needed anything and a heart, before checking her on Find My Friends to see she was, in fact at a bar. Then you texted your group chat with Emily and Alexis and Maya, who had asked how you were doing. You told them you were with Harry and most likely going to be here for a while, which got excited responses and Alexis sent the eggplant emoji, which made you snort. They told you to text you if you ended up staying the night so they could keep track of where you were, which you agree to do.

When you went to wash your hands, you rolled your eyes because of course they couldn’t even buy hand soap. You went to the shower and found a bottle of body wash, and squirted some into your hands before going back to the sink, rinsing them off. Then you looked at your face in the mirror, eyeliner and mascara still in tact, but your hair was a disaster. You pulled the bun free and let your hair tumble down your back, running through it with your fingers to calm the strands that were askew.

Standing the mirror, you had the opportunity to consider your choices. Did you want to hook up with Harry? Yes. That was a clear answer, despite your alcohol-hazed mind. Did he want to? Most likely—every indication had pointed towards yes. So your mind was made up as you pulled the door open and made your way back to his room, your phone tucked into your jeans and solo cup in your hand.

“You guys really need soap.”

He was still sitting on the edge of his desk, scrolling through his phone and sipping on his drink when you came into the room. At the sight of you, he put his phone down. “I know—it’s fucking disgusting. I have my own, though. Sorry for not sharing.”

You set your cup on his dresser, deciding you were done, and moved towards him. “It’s fine. I made do.” His eyes trailed down your front, the sexual tension thick in the room. When he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and chewed on it, you decided fuck it you were done waiting.

You crossed the space between the two of you in second, slotting yourself between his knees. His hands found your waist immediately, his solo cup moving to rest on the table once your body was pressed to his. Without pausing, you pressed your lips to his, reconnecting them in a fire—you needed him, you wanted him, you craved his hands on your skin. Now that you were alone, it was like you couldn’t hold yourself together and neither could he. His hands moved up and down your back, tugging you into his chest as your hands curled in his long hair. Lips fought for dominance, teeth tugging and tongues pressing for more. When he licked into your mouth a wet moan left your lips and you pressed into the crotch of his pants without even meaning to.

6LACK was still flowing through the speaker, and the smooth RnB just adding to the desire rolling through your body. When his lips dropped to your neck, sucking and biting on your skin, a desperate, filthy noise fell from your mouth and you couldn’t help but smile when Harry grunted into you. “I—fuck,” he mumbled, squeezing at your hips.

Suddenly your clothes were too warm, burning against your skin. You leaned back and pulled at the hem of your tank top, pulling it up over your head and letting it fall to the floor. Harry’s eyes went wide, blown out irises from alcohol and desire criss-crossing over your body. “You can touch me,” you said, confidence coursing through your veins and just desperate for him to do something.

He didn’t hesitate, pulling you back into him and attaching his mouth to the swell of your breast, right above the lace of your bra. Hot breath on your skin had you keening into him, back arching up into his mouth, your fingers tugging into his hair. You loved his hair, having something to hold onto and anchor yourself, and from the pleased hums he liked it too. His hands fumbled with your bra clasp, and when he got it free and pulled the material away, he pulled your nipple into his mouth and you audibly sighed. When he sucked on it, then laved over it with his tongue you couldn’t help but buck into him. You were putty in his arms and he had barely done anything.

Your hands pulled at his shirt, the desire to see his skin overwhelming you. He didn’t make you wait, helping you tug it over his head, and let it drop to the floor. Black ink scattered across his skin, words and images that made a million questions swirl in your mind. The G on his shoulder, the ship on his bicep, the name Jackson scrawled above a rose, the swallows across his collarbones and a butterfly on his stomach. He sat there, chest heaving as he caught his breath and your fingers brushed his skin, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Y/N,” he rasped, “bed?”

“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with ease, and he was backing you into it immediately, hands in your hair and lips on yours. Your bare chests touching sent you into overdrive, the brush of your nipples on his warm skin, a sheen of sweat covering both of you from dancing all night.

The comforter was plush underneath your back as you scrambled up the length of his bed, his body following yours immediately. Your legs fell apart so he could fit between you, and when he did, his dick rested right against your clothed clit and it made you gasp. “Feel good?” He mumbled, the words a haze in your ears as he plucked your lips between his.

All you could do was buck up, your knees finding either side of him. You wanted to be on top, to be in control. You wanted to grind on him properly, after waiting for so long. With a hand at his chest, you pushed slightly, enough for him to move back. He must have understood what you wanted because he flopped onto the bed next to you, one hand on either of your thighs and you mounted him, your ass sitting on the top of his thighs.

When you moved your center over his dick, both of you groaned, deep and drawn out, your head thrown back in pleasure. It was bliss, after so much waiting, to finally be able to do this, his hands crawling from your thighs to your hips to hold you in place, exactly where he wanted you. You put your hands on his chest to hold yourself up, and let your hips find a sinful rhythm, one that was making pleasure curl in your stomach. Pants left your mouth, matched by Harry, who was watching you as if you were a fucking art exhibit, eyes trying to take in every inch of you. Fingernails curled into his skin, red marks that you expected to be there tomorrow, when he nudged at your clit, and you rubbed that spot a few more times, his name falling from your lips in a beg. “Harry.”

That had him moving, pulling your lips down to his so he could kiss you again, his fingers cradling the back of your head. It was just rough enough where you were scrambling to catch up and it felt good, that this was consuming every part of your brain. You rolled your hips again, your hands pressing into the pillow under his head. Then, you felt his thighs agains your ass, and he was pushing up into you, making him snugly flush against you, the only thing between you two being your clothes.

Which you wanted off, and wanted off now. You moved back, crawling between his legs, and his eyes followed you, panting as he watched you pop the button on his pants. He lifted his hips to help you and you tugged the tight skinny jeans that showed every inch of his thickness underneath them down his legs. Then, you pulled on his briefs, and he was bare in front of you, exactly as you wanted him. Your jeans were constricting your movement so you turned tot he side, pulling the denim off of your body so you were left in your underwear.

Then you were on him again, but this time, it was your hand on his dick, fingers running up the length of him.

“Fuck,” he said, voice husky in your ears. He was gorgeous underneath you, desperation making his eyebrows crease, his long hair a mess on the pillow. Why had you waited so long to act on this desire? You suddenly couldn’t remember.

He watched you spit onto his most sensitive part, and then slide your hand over him, spreading the moisture. He hissed at the feeling and you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long here—he was already hard, his tip red and throbbing. The fact that you had him this turned on and you’d barely done anything made your ego soar, to be honest. You pumped him three times before licking up the underside of him, his hands curling in the comforter, a stream of curses falling from his lips.

When you took him into your mouth, a low, rough grunt filled the room and you smiled. You hollowed your cheeks and immediately took him all the way into your mouth, resisting the urge to gag when he hit the back of your throat. “Shit,” he rasped. “You—shit.”

You’d done what you were about to give him just a handful of times before, only with people who you knew you would feel pleasure from too when they did it, and trusted. And Harry fit both of those categories, because he could fucking smile and you’d want to fuck him. So you grabbed his hand and placed it on the back of your head, before taking him all the way to the back of your throat. Your mouth was full of him and it felt so good.

“Want me to fuck your mouth?” His eyes were glimmering in the light, completely focused on you. You were happy you had left the lights on, because it meant you could every inch of him, every reaction you drew from him.

In response, you licked at his tip, hoping he knew that meant yes.

He seemed to, because he curled his fingers into your hair and pushed his hips up, his tip hitting your throat immediately. You groaned around his dick and he cursed at the vibrations. Then, he kept his hips on the bed and instead pulled you up and down him, fucking your mouth just as you had wanted. You couldn’t do much from this position, so you focused on inhaling through your nose and running your hands over his skin, scratching at the butterfly on his torso. Leaving reminders of this night, of you, on his body.

“Shit,” he mumbled, pulling you off. “I—I have to stop. But, shit, you feel so good, babe.”

The pet name made you smile, sitting back on your heels to wipe at your mouth, the taste of his salty precum still on your tongue. “Do you have a condom?” You asked, because all that you had done had left you more than ready—you needed him inside of you.

Harry’s eyes went wide and he scrambled up. “Fuck,” he exhaled, grabbing at his desk drawer and pulling it open. Watching him look through his drawers completely naked was, you had to admit, a bit amusing, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. He wrenched another drawer open, tossing the contents about as he looked. Then he sighed, and looked back at you. “I’m out.”

“Go find one,” you told him, leaning back against the wall, letting your knees drop open to show your underwear. You could feel the wet spot on them and you knew he saw it too. “I’ll wait here.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll—yeah I’ll find one.” He pulled on his jeans, not even bothering with his briefs, eyes flickering to you every once and a while. “Shit, I’ll—I’ll be back.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at how flustered he was, pushing open his door and letting it slam shut behind him. Through the door you could hear him knocking on the door next to his, some muffled words, and then him knocking again. He was going fucking door to door looking for a condom, you realized with amusement. Then, the patter of feet on the stairs, and you knew he was going downstairs, that no one else was in their rooms.

While you waited, you grabbed your phone and scrolled through it. Caught up on texts, liked shit on Instagram, checked Snapchat even though you barely used the app. Most people were at bars, as far as you could tell, but it looked like they’d set back up pong downstairs according to Emily’s story.

All of a sudden, feet pounded on the stairs and you knew it was Harry. You pushed your phone back onto the desk, and when the door opened, he was standing there holding probably ten condoms. “How many did you get?”

He looked down at the wad in his hand and visibly blushed. “I—I thought I’d re-stock.”

You let it slide, even though you knew exactly why he got so many. He was hoping you’d have a couple rounds, and you were not opposed to the idea. “Come here,” you said, and let your legs fall back open.

He was on you in second, his pants kicked down his legs as he moved and you were surprised he didn’t trip. Hands found your skin and he pushed you up the bed, this time he was the one hovering over you, lips drawing eager mewls from you. You pressed your hips into his unclothed erection and he cursed, a grimace crossing his face that you knew was from him restraining himself. “Can I take these off?” He asked, fingers pulling at your underwear.

“Please,” you replied and that made him smile at you. He peeled them down your legs, tossing them to the ground, a forgotten memory. Then he brushed a finger over your slit and you gasped, cool touch sending waves of pleasure through you. “Need you.” The two words made his head snap up from where he was looking at your pussy, eyes connecting with yours.

“I was going to go down on you,” he said, and although the thought was tantalizing, you needed him inside of you.

You shook your head. “Later.”

Harry wasn’t complaining. He grabbed one of the condoms from his desk and ripped it open, rolling it down his dick with a concentrated gaze. Then, he crawled up your body, reconnecting your lips, and you both sighed at the feeling of his dick rolling against your center. “Okay?” He asked, pulling away just a hair to check in.

“Please,” you begged, and that had him moving immediately.

He tugged one of your legs around his waist, and then he gripped his dick, brushing his tip to your slit once, twice, three times. On the third time, though, he pressed in, and your wetness accepted him immediately, allowing him to push in about halfway before he stopped.

It burned a bit—mainly just from his size, which was bigger than most other guys you’d been with. You hands scrambled across his chest, grabbing at his skin, struggling to get your breathing under control. “You’re big,” you said, unable to stop the words that fell from your lips.

A cocky smile drifted over his face and you mentally kicked yourself for adding to his ego. “Can I move?” He asked though and you nodded. His head bobbed down, and you realized he was watching where you two were connected as he pulled back and then pushed in all the way. A choked moan left your mouth and a similar one sounded from Harry’s, although his had a string of curses attached. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he rasped, hands adjusting so they were next to your head, his face above yours. “Fuck.”

You were about to tell him to move when he did it on his own accord, pulling out and back into you, the impact making your body shift on the comforter. There was a very real possibility of you having sore legs tomorrow, but you really didn’t give a fuck because he felt so good. “Holy shit,” you babbled, those words the only ones you could find as he thrusted in and out of you, finding a rhythm that made you both pant with pleasure.

Sounds drifted out of you without you even realizing, something that always happened when you had drunk sex. You couldn’t control yourself as much, unable to process how loud you were being, what you were saying. Looking back you couldn’t even remember exactly what you had said, but you knew it was a mess of curses and his name and God and just pants and mewls that were feeding Harry like a fucking three course meal.

He loved your sounds, used them to figure out what you liked, where to move and shift. You could tell because when you’d let out a sharp gasp he’d say, “Yeah, there? That’s the spot?” and drive in and out of you, hitting your g-spot perfectly with every move of his hips. Your hands were clutching at his hair as he thrusted into you, your ankles hooked around his lower back, and your body was desperate for release.

But you could also tell he was not going to last. His eyes were heavy, eyelids drawing shut with pleasure, fingers curling in the pillow next to you. Shoulders tensing and abdomen tight as he swiveled his hips, a broken moan falling between you. “Close,” he finally said, and dropped down to his elbows, so his face hovered above yours, only a hair away. “You feel so good, shit, oh my god—how do you feel so good?” His words were broken and that made them even better, that he had no control over what he was saying.

“Want you to come,” you babbled, “want to feel it, come on Harry, come for me, please, I need it.”

“Holy fuck—“ that had him snapping into you, hips slapping against yours, the sound of skin on skin overpowering the music that still played in the background. You gripped his shoulders when his head hung in the crook of your shoulder, and you knew he was about to come.

So you said one more thing. “I need you to come, Harry, please.” The words came out as a beg, exactly as you intended. His hips were stuttering immediately, curses falling between you like a broken record, repeating over and over again as he shot into the condom. He smattered kisses on your shoulder as he collapsed into you, sweat sticking to your skin.

He laid there for a second, panting, and you didn’t mind, even though you desperately needed to come. Perhaps it was how you clamped down on him, or you shifted your hips to feel slightly more of him, but Harry seemed to figure out what you needed. He lifted his head, took one look at you, and then pulled out, ripping off the condom and tossing it into his trash before crawling down your legs.

When his tongue licked your slit, you mewled his name, your hands moving into his hair immediately. You tugged and pulled on it as he licked over you, drawing circles that pulled desire from your flesh. And then he went inside, darting his deftly skilled tongue into you and practically thrusting it into you. His thumb brushed across your nub and you let our a shuddering moan, bucking up into his face. You were close—insanely close—the combination of his tongue inside of you and the thumb on your nub drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Harry,” you rasped, voice broken from panting. “I’m close.”

He seemed double his effort, tongue moving in and out of you at double time, his thumb brushing a brutal pace over you. You were twisting in his arms, hips bucking, curses leaving your lips. And when he pulled his thumb away and sucked on your clit, that’s when you came, in a mess of his name and broken gasps, choking on air. Your fingers curled tightly in his hair, anchoring his face to your center as you came, bucking up into him. He didn’t mind though, he just held your hips and took it, licking at you to draw out all of your aftershocks. Your eyes squeezed shut and your mind was a mess, swirling without the ability to grasp onto a single thread of thought, just a mess under his lips.

When you finally regained the ability to breathe, you pulled your hands from his hair and he sat up. You watched in awe as he licked his lips, gathering your juice, and swallowed them, a smile on his face. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re really good at that?”

He gave you a cocky expression and then flopped down next to you. “They have, in fact.”

“Good. I’d be concerned about the other girls if they hadn’t.”

He laughed, and then pulled you into his body. You were surprised at his desire to cuddle, but you weren’t mad. “You can stay if you want. There’s people downstairs still and it’s cold out.”

You propped your head up on his shoulder. “There’s also all those condoms.”

“That’s true. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste.”

You trailed your fingers up his torso. “Might have to just stay the whole weekend if we’re trying to use them all.”

His eyebrows quirked, but he wasn’t mad at the prospect. “Wanna be my study break for the weekend?”

You smirked, leaning up to quickly peck his lips. “As long as you’re mine.”

He hauled your body on top of his and curled his fingers into your hair. “We’ll get your shit in the morning, then.”

“It’s a deal.” You kissed him, lips slotting against one another, slower and less hurried than before, but that same undercurrent of desire stringing between you two. You were already grinding into him, hips brushing over his as you moved.

Suddenly, a pounding sound came from the door, and you froze. “Fuck off!” Harry called, pulling the comforter that had ended up at the bottom of the bed over the two of you.

“Fuck—sorry—I need a condom, man.” The words were muffled, but you heard them all the same.

Harry snorted, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Go ask Nick,” he replied, “and leave me the fuck alone.” His hands grabbed at you, kneading into your ass, and you licked at his nipple.

It was going to be a long weekend.

SEND ME CONCEPTS ABOUT Y/N AND HARRY!

#frat boy harry #frat boy au #frat boy fan fiction #Harry Styles #Harry Styles Fan Fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing

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uvobreakmylegs · 3 years

Text

Just Another Day

I’ve never been one to attach songs to my fics but I was listening to Oingo Boingo’s Just Another Day while writing this and thought it worked kinda

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping, death

You awoke to a tune coming from the clock radio next to your bed. If you were to guess, you'd say it sounded like something from the 80s. The tune gets louder and more instruments are added to the mix a few seconds in and you can hear Franklin grunt from behind you as he wakes up shortly after. His movements are sluggish, but the arm that he had wrapped around your form reaches for the alarm, pressing down on the button just a bit too hard before his hand falls back onto the bed.

There was only the tiniest bit of light coming into the room from beyond the blinds, the greatest source of light currently coming from the digital clock that showed the time to be 5:30.

A few seconds passed, and Franklin sighed. He pushed himself up and off of you, sitting up in the bed. With the source of warmth that had held you as you slept now gone, you couldn't help the way you shivered at the slight chill from the air in the room.

“You awake?” he asked quietly.

You briefly considered pretending to still be asleep to avoid speaking to him. But he was usually pretty good at telling when you were actually sleeping or not, and you didn't want to start the day with him being annoyed with you.

“Mm.”

It was barely a response, but you were acknowledging him.

His hand came down to stroke your hair.

“Want to have an early breakfast? Or do you want to sleep more?” he asked.

“I'd like it if I could sleep more,” you answered.

“All right.”

After patting you gently on the head, you felt the way he lifted the covers as he removed himself from the bed and made his way to the bathroom for a shower, though not before he carefully set the sheets back down around you and made sure you were covered.

He had mentioned yesterday that he needed to get up early today for a job. But he assured you that he wouldn't be gone for very long. “Just a few hours; I'll be back by two at the latest,” he had told you.

You didn't bother to ask what exactly the job was - something illegal, no doubt, and the less you knew about that sort of thing the better.

You'd told Franklin that you wanted more sleep, but of course now you couldn't get back to sleep, and you were wide awake while you lay in bed, watching the numbers on the clock change and listening to the sounds of running water that were coming from the bathroom.

With the way the door to the bathroom slightly muffled the noise of the shower, you couldn't help but note the way it reminded you of rapid gunfire.

A particular unpleasant memory was brought up to the surface, but you didn't dare close your eyes to try and will it away. If you did that, that memory would be all you would see. You focused on the red glow of the clock, counting the seconds in your head as time steadily crept forward.

The shower valve squeaked as it was shut off and silence filled the room again, only interrupted by the noises Franklin made as he readied himself in the bathroom. You closed your eyes when the water shut off, anticipating that moment when he would come back into your shared room. Franklin could tell when you were pretending to be asleep, but maybe if he saw your eyes closed and the fact that you hadn't moved at all, he might not bother with saying goodbye to you before he left.

Minutes passed and you weren't any closer to going back to sleep when he walked back in, his footsteps heavy on the floor as he grabbed the jacket he'd hung on the corner of the door. Then, much to your dismay, you heard as his footsteps came closer before you felt his large form looming over you.

He braced a hand on the mattress next to you so he could lean down and kiss you on the cheek.

“I'm heading off,” he whispered.

“Bye.”

Franklin paused at your lackluster response, staying still above you for a moment. You didn't open your eyes to look at him, afraid of what you might see if you did as the air around you suddenly felt just a bit more dangerous.

But he said nothing more, and a few moments later he took his hand from the mattress and walked away from you and to the open door. His movements echoed in the apartment and although it was faint, you could hear the way his keys jingled against each other as he unlocked the front door and how the lock clicked shut after he had closed the door behind him.

Hours passed while you tossed and turned, desperately trying to get back to sleep. But even as tired as you were, it just wasn't happening. You even stayed in the bed a bit later than usual to catch up on that much-needed sleep, but it was only when you decided that it was time to get up that you felt like you might be able to get some rest. The temptation to just pass out was there, but with the time-frame Franklin had given you, you worried that you might still be asleep by the time he came back.

Would he even care about something like that?

He might. You had told him that you wanted to sleep instead of eating with him. If he knew you had wasted so much time in bed and that you were actually awake enough to spend a little bit of time with him, he'd probably be annoyed. That was your guess, at least, but you couldn't say for sure. You just wanted to tread carefully around that giant and avoid making him upset if possible.

One light breakfast and shower, and after you were sitting on the couch with a book in hand, your earbuds in while you listened to your music at a low volume. The spot next to you was Franklin's usual seat. He liked to have you next to him when he sat there, and whether you were watching tv or reading something quietly, his arm always ended up wrapped around you after a few moments.

Franklin never pushed too hard for you to give him affection. But you never really fought him too much on that front. Or on any front, for that matter. Whatever Franklin wanted, you generally complied with him. It was only in those moments where you felt like you were really going to go insane and needed to regain some semblance of your own autonomy that you would defy him, mini rebellions in the form of saying nothing when he spoke to you or pretend that you weren't awake. And even those were easily crushed the instant he looked at you in a certain way, suspicion growing in his eyes as he asked if you felt unwell.

You eventually lost the focus you were trying to keep on the book in your lap, finding yourself to be reading the same few lines over and over again and making no progress whatsoever. With a sigh you closed it and looked over to the window that overlooked the parking lot below. It was nice outside today. Nice enough that you shut off the air conditioning and opened the windows just a crack so the breeze could come inside.

When was the last time you went outside?

The thought struck you, and you needed to mull it over a bit. You went out last week for errands, but not once since then.

You checked the clock in the kitchen; it was a little after noon. Franklin said he would be back by two at the latest.

The time-frame seemed a bit flexible, so maybe there was enough time for you to take a walk around the area.

It was still surprising to you that you were even allowed that option. When you spent that first day in the apartment after he took you, you were expecting something more drastic regarding the state of your captivity, like being tied to the bed or locked away in the bedroom. But Franklin didn't bother with that. While in those first few days he rarely left your side, he allowed you free reign of the apartment, citing that he wanted you to feel that your new home felt as such. Not long after he gave you your own set of keys to the place and told you that you could go outside if you wanted.

“I trust you to not make any stupid decisions,” he had told you as he placed the keys into your palm, the tips of his fingers brushing against your skin. There was a hint of warning in his voice, just in case you were thinking of doing something stupid.

Had you not seen the things he could do, you probably would have tried to go get help.

Then again, had you not seen the things he was capable of, you might not have ended up in this situation.

You placed your book to the side and grabbed your shoes, and after placing your music player into your pocket, you left the apartment, locking the door behind you as you went out into the fresh air.

The sun was warm on your skin as you walked about the neighborhood, keeping to a path that circled around your apartment so the building was always in your line of sight. Other people that lived in the area that had the same idea of taking advantage of the nice weather ignored you as you walked by. That worked for you, as you couldn't say you were really interested in engaging in a conversation (and you weren't sure if you were able to). The music from your earbuds still played as you walked, drowning out the majority of the outside noises.

A group of college-age guys were throwing a frisbee in a park that you passed by, and one of them approached you, asking if you wanted to join in. You shook your head but thanked him for the offer and he seemed to take it well enough, running back and throwing the frisbee to his friends. You quickened your pace a bit, looking at the surrounding area as part of you worried that Franklin had materialized by somehow sensing that you were interacting with another man and would take out all of you.

Would he be jealous about such a thing?

Thinking it over again, he didn't seem like the type to let things like that bother him, but even so, you didn't want to risk some innocent guy dying just because he spoke to you.

Even as you left the park, you could still hear the shouting of the guys with the frisbee over your music, and with the music in your ears, the shouts sounded less playful and more panicked. You turned up the volume, trying to drown their voices out completely.

The feeling of being outside was too much now, and you suddenly began to feel as though it was overwhelming you. Maybe this was a mistake.

A motorcycle that drove past while it loudly revved its engine made you jump, and you decided at that point that it was time to go back home.

Within a matter of minutes you were in front of your building, making your way to the stairwell while your legs ached with how fast you had walked to get back.

The whole time you had kept your eyes downcast, focused on your feet and the path directly in front of you. But when you reached the bottom of the stairs, you glanced up –

And saw a large cardboard box come sliding down the steps towards you.

Your first instinct was to jump out of the way, but when you saw the man who was running down the steps after it, something else kicked in and you pushed out your arms to stop it.

Maybe that wasn't the best idea since the box was heavier than you'd anticipated and left you reeling back slightly once you caught it.

At least the guy that the box belonged to was grateful.

“Thanks so much,” he said as he reached you, steadying the box and allowing you to remove your hands.

“I thought I could get it up on my own but I guess not,” he continued, laughing a bit at himself. You took out your earbuds so you could hear him clearly.

“Sorry, I should introduce myself – I'm Dillon.”

With one hand still on the box, he held his other out to you as he introduced himself. You copied the action and shook his hand as you softly told him your name.

“So you live here?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Awesome! I guess that makes us neighbors then. My sister and I are moving in today, although she's working until five today so she can't be here right now. But we wanted everything in by tonight, so I figured I'd get started, y'know? But I guess I got a bit overeager because I thought I could take care of all of the heavy stuff before she clocked out so there wouldn't be that much for her once she got here. Kinda sad that I'm not as strong as I thought I was, and I really wish that our friends-”

There were only a few moments in your life that you could remember actively wishing that people came equipped with a mute button, and this moment was now added to that list as you stood there while this man talked at you. And good lord could this man talk. You weren't even sure what he was saying at a certain point, and you subtly tried looking around you, hoping that someone would come up and need to use the stairs that the two of you were currently blocking and give you an excuse to end this incredibly awkward and one-sided conversation.

No such help arrived, and you were stuck there while your mind tried to come up with a reason for you to be anywhere but there.

“Sorry, I know this is really rude to ask,” he said suddenly, “but do you think you could help me carry this up? I feel really bad asking you but clearly I can't do it on my own.”

“.... Okay.”

A weird part of you felt like you were obligated to help him out since you had bothered to stop the box in the first place. As he directed you to take the part of the box that rested further up on the stairs, you wished you could go back in time a few minutes and go with your first instinct of avoiding the stupid thing.

The box was heavy and you struggled a bit despite him taking the brunt of the weight. Thank god you only needed to take it up one flight of stairs, the two of you setting the box down with a thud outside of his open apartment door.

As soon as that box was set down Dillon started up again.

“So have you lived here long?”

“Kinda,” you answered.

“You know any good spots around this area? I've lived close by for a while but maybe you know about places that I don't.”

“Not really,” you answered as you shook your head, “most of the time I just stay inside with my boyfriend.”

There was a change to Dillon in that moment, a strained expression on his face as he looked at you, like he was upset by what he had heard. It hit you then that maybe he wasn't just looking to be friends with you.

“Boyfriend, huh? I'd love to meet him,” he said.

That seemed highly unlikely.

Even after that, he somehow kept talking, and you felt trapped by the conversation as you continued to give one-word answers. He was either not getting the hint that you wanted to get away from him, or he was just hoping to annoy you into submission.

With how you desperately tried to keep up with him and the things he was saying, you were too distracted to notice the large figure that had approached the building and was coming up the stairs.

At the sound of the top step creaking, you finally looked away and saw Franklin at the top of the stairs. He looked calm as he looked between you and Dillon (who finally shut up). But your chest seized up at the sight of him and you heard your heart beating in your ears when he approached.

Dillon looked like he was about to say something to Franklin, and a mild panic hit you.

“Dillon, this is Franklin,” you said, moving to Franklin's side.

“My boyfriend,” you added.

“Oh.”

His disappointment was even more clear than when you'd first mentioned Franklin, and his arm was stiff when he held it out to the giant before him.

“Nice to meet you; I'm Dillon.”

Franklin nodded as he took Dillon's hand to shake it. It was a rigid, awkward handshake that didn't last very long as Dillon was quick to pull his hand away.

“Moving in?” Franklin asked.

“Yeah,” Dillon replied, “with my sister. We're trying to get everything in by tonight-”

“Then we won't take up any more of your time,” Franklin interrupted.

When he walked past him you followed, leaving Dillon to stutter out an awkward goodbye as the two of you made your way to the upper levels of the building. Franklin stopped when you reached your floor, turning around to ask “did he do something to you?”

“Not really,” you said, “he had me help him bring a box up, but nothing much more than that.”

Franklin hummed, putting one of those hands on top of your head and you stiffened slightly. Franklin's eyes narrowed a bit, but he continued.

“You sure he didn't do anything else?”

“I mean, I think he was hoping I was single,” you began, “but he didn't really do anything. I think he's just a desperate idiot.”

“Mm. I got that sense as well,” he said, chuckling a little.

He took his hand off of your head and continued back to the apartment while you trailed behind him.

Franklin immediately went to the couch in the living room area, settling down with a sigh and motioning for you to join him. You complied, kicking off your shoes and sitting back down in the spot you had left earlier. His arm wrapped around your midsection and the two of you stayed like that for a time. Franklin wanted silence right now. To just sit and be with you.

Minutes passed before you allowed yourself to get comfortable in his grip and you leaned back against him. With a light rumble of approval, Franklin leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

He seemed happy, which was good news for Dillon. You weren't sure if you would feel too much if Franklin had killed him, but you didn't want to know that you had been the cause of his death if Franklin had ended up being offended by him.

“What do you want to do for dinner?” Franklin asked after a bit.

“Ah....”

Either you would make something or he'd order something to be delivered. Franklin had no cooking skills, so that fell to you. It was still some time before you would sit down for your evening meal, but right now you felt so drained, and you weren't sure if you had it in you to cook a meal for the both of you. When was the last time you'd gotten take out, though? You couldn't quite remember, but you felt as though he would be upset if he felt you were becoming lazy. If you were no longer useful in that regard, he'd get mad, wouldn't he?

Franklin speaking your name brought you back, looking at you with an eyebrow raised as he waited for your answer.

“Um, I'm not sure if I feel up to cooking today....?”

Franklin nodded.

“Take out it is.”

Dinners were usually quiet, with only occasional bits of small talk. Franklin seemed to be fine with just being in your company. You were grateful for it because you knew there would only be so much you could talk about with him before your topics of choice hit a dead end. But even so, something felt a bit off tonight. He seemed to be more focused on you than he usually was, and that sense of danger you'd had this morning when he left was back. Did he want you to talk? Or was he actually upset at what he'd found when he came back this afternoon?

“Did your job go well?” you tried.

“Well enough,” he replied.

…. That didn't give you much to work with, and you still weren't willing to ask about the details of his “job” as you still weren't sure you'd be able to stomach it.

Was he upset that he found you outside the apartment?

“It was a nice day today,” you said.

“It was,” he agreed.

“I realized it had been a while since I left the apartment; I thought it'd be nice to take a walk,” you explained, “there's a park nearby that I didn't realize was there. Maybe if another day like this comes along and you're here, we could go there together sometime –”

Franklin's expression morphed into a grimace, and he let out a sigh as he placed the fork he had been using on the table. You shut your mouth as he spoke.

“Have I ever hurt you?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if I've ever hurt you,” he repeated, “answer me that.”

Slowly, you shook your head.

“No,” you whispered.

Not physically.

“Then why are you always so jumpy around me? I care about you, but you treat me like a ticking time bomb,” he said, “why are you afraid?”

You didn't want to have this conversation, and your gaze went down to your lap where your fingers fiddled with the hem of your shirt. You didn't want to have this conversation at all, but not answering wasn't an option here; there wouldn't be getting out of this until Franklin was satisfied.

“I.... I like you, Franklin,” you began, “but... There are parts of you that really, really scare me.”

There was silence after you spoke and you didn't dare look up.

“That's understandable,” he said after a moment, “I really do regret that you saw what you did that day. If I could go back and change what happened I would.”

You couldn't think of any way to respond to that.

Everything always came back to that day.

Franklin had spent the night at your old apartment and left early the next morning. He woke up later than he'd intended and needed to rush out to get to his job on time. In his haste he managed to leave his cellphone behind, which you had discovered only a few moments after he'd left.

If you had found it any later you would have just held onto it for him until he came back. But he'd only left your place just seconds ago, and you figured that was enough time for you to be able to catch him before he got too far.

Stepping out of your front door, you were shocked to see just how far down the street Franklin had made it. Your boyfriend was so much faster than you realized, and you began to jog as you called out to him.

He didn't hear you, and you saw him turn a corner and vanish behind a building. A dark car that had been approaching turned onto the same street.

Your jog turned into a run, and in seconds you had reached the corner you had seen him walk behind.

The rapid gunfire and screams that sounded made you stop as they ripped through the silence of the morning.

You weren't sure how long it lasted. All you knew was that the gunfire lasted longer as the screams quickly died out.

Whatever the fuck had just happened, it wasn't anything good, and every fiber of your being screamed at yourself to get the fuck away and call the police.

But that was the same sidewalk Franklin had turned onto.

What if he was hurt? Or worse?

Holding Franklin's cellphone so tightly that you were surprised the screen didn't crack, you stepped forward to peek around the corner.

The car you had seen had been parked diagonally on the sidewalk in a way that was meant to block the path. But it was riddled with bullet holes, and the group of men that had been inside were in a similar state. A few of them were slumped over on the sidewalk, weapons they had been carrying lying next to them while their blood poured from the open wounds and into the cracks beneath them.

And standing before that scene was Franklin, who seemed remarkably calm in spite of the horrific scene.

From the way he was positioned one would think that he was the one who had shot up that car. But he didn't have any weapons, so how could he –

With his arm raised Franklin turned around sharply towards you. For a brief moment you saw the way he looked at you with a cold, hardened and remorseless expression. But it morphed into one of shock when he realized who had been standing behind him.

He had already started firing.

All of the bullets hit the building you had been standing next to with the exception of one that flew by your face. The bullets hitting that corner combined with the sight of Franklin's fingertips hanging off at the joints made you fall to the ground. Somehow, those bullets were coming from his fingers.

You sat there staring at him as you tried to comprehend the situation.

Franklin noticed the cellphone you still had clutched to your chest, and his hand brushed against his pocket. Realization hit him as to why you were here, and he sighed.

With the way you kept your head hanging down, you didn't notice the way he reached over the table for you. When the tips of his fingers brushed against your cheek you flinched and pulled away, your eyes immediately going to those fingers as your mind was telling you they would break apart and he would gun you down where you sat.

Franklin seemed confused at first. But when he saw the way you looked at his hand, pieces in his mind started to come together. Nervous glances you had made towards him over the past few months, things that he had overlooked at the time, but now he was aware of what you were actually afraid of, and he couldn't help the anger that came with the revelation.

“You think I'm going to shoot you?”

The way you looked away from him was answer enough.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“How long have you been with me?” he asked.

You didn't answer.

“How long?”

“.... A while.”

“Months,” he said, “I've spent months providing for you and keeping you safe while also making sure you had the freedom you needed. Because I want us to be like we were before. I've spent so much time and effort on this for your sake, and you really think I'm going to throw all of that away by killing you? Does that even make sense?”

A soft sniffle escaped you, accompanied by tears that ran down to the tip of your nose and onto your lap as you hung your head low again.

It was frustrating. The way you were acting was frustrating and he was honestly insulted that you thought he would discard you like that, but Franklin bit his tongue. Getting angry with you was only going to make things worse. And really, it was his own carelessness that had caused this in the first place. You had never seen anything on that level of violence before, and had he just not forgotten the stupid phone, you wouldn't have needed to.

He took in a deep breath, composing himself before he spoke to you again.

You lifted your head back up when you heard him speak your name. He had shifted his seat so his chair was facing slightly outward, and he motioned to his lap as he told you “come here.”

You obeyed him, getting up and walking around the table to where he sat, staying still as those hands reached for you, fingertips hanging from the end of the joint and a hollow barrel greeting you where bone should have been-

He pulled you onto his lap, those arms wrapped around your form and holding you close to his chest.

“I'm not going to shoot you,” he said.

There were better ways he could have put that, but he'd always preferred being straightforward with his words.

“I care about you,” he continued, “believe me on that.”

Nothing more was said after that. Franklin honestly couldn't think of anything else to say, and whatever words you would've said just couldn't leave your throat. You were still crying softly, but he took it as a good sign when your hands clutched his clothing and you curled in further against him. If you really didn't want to be around him then you would have tried to push away from him.

The light outside dimmed as the sun went down while the takeout grew cold where it sat abandoned on the table. It was still early in the evening, but Franklin decided it best for the both of you to turn in for the night. Lifting you from his lap and setting you on your feet, he wiped away a few stray tears as he told you “go get ready for bed; I'll clean up out here.”

You nodded at him, retreating to the bedroom to get yourself ready while Franklin shoved the food into bags and stuffed them in the fridge for leftovers.

You were already waiting in the bed when he came in, sitting up with your knees drawn up to your chest. Your eyes met his as he entered, though you looked away when he began to undress.

Such fear couldn't be let go of easily, but he wouldn't give up. The way things were before, when you would look at him without fearing for your life, he'd have it back.

It just wouldn't be today.

Franklin sat down next to you. With one finger under your jaw, he lifted your head up to press a kiss to your lips. You reciprocated, but only slightly.

“Good night,” he whispered.

You mumbled something in return before you laid down beneath the covers.

Your back was pressed up against Franklin's chest with you as the little spoon while his arm lay over you, his hand resting in front of your face and partially obscuring your view of the clock.

With the way the red numbers of the clock glowed in the darkness, you swore you could see that light shining through his fingers. Glowing red bands that wrapped around the joints where his fingers detached, and another day where you went to sleep with that image engraved in your mind.

#reader insert #hxh franklin #franklin x reader #franklin bordeau #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere franklin

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melodyalanaroster · 3 years

Photo

Dear @chinomiko,

When I first started playing My Candy Love on New Year’s Day in 2013, I was simply a 17 year old girl who was starting the second half of my Senior Year in High School. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, and I certainly had no idea where I’d end up. At the time, I was just looking for a new anime style site to call my internet home after the destruction of TinierMe. In my search, I stumbled upon your site. I had never played a dating simulator before, and I fell for your art style, so I decided to give the site a shot. It didn’t take me long to bond with Nathaniel... He was a kind young man, who loved to read, and had a tortured home life... Even though the torture at home was different between him and me, I still felt like I had found a character I could recognize... Hell, I did the same thing with Ken... My bond with Nathaniel was just so much deeper...

Then I graduated High School... I had no college prospects, and no idea what I even wanted to go to college for (still entirely don’t know).... My issues at home were getting worse, my love life was far from perfect, and living in Texas can be kind of ruthless on those who aren’t following the status quo... Even with going to the United Kingdom for 5 weeks, things still didn’t get better... And of course, the death of my childhood cat, Luna, in 2014 made things worse... So, I started focusing my free time on the game.... Working like crazy to get up to date with the episodes and bonus episodes, editing pics, and even writing fanfics... It became my escape from real life.

That did not change when I met the love of my real life in 2015. Despite entering into a relationship that is still going strong, I needed an escape from the hell my abuser was putting my family and me through, from the shitty job that I had gotten (and still have as of this letter), and from the hell that a really rare disease that had kicked on in my mother’s immune system had begun to put her and my family through. No amount of talking to people in my inner circle in real life helped... And there were times where it felt like the only emotions I knew were anger, sadness, and fear... It was during this time that my main MCL OC, Melody Alana Roster, came to life as what she is today... A strong, smart, beautiful, powerful, woman who goes through some of the worst hell imaginable and ends up living a life of peace with the man she loves (Nathaniel).... When my abuser’s time in my family’s and my life was ending and she was going “all out” on me? I thought of what Alana and Nathaniel would be doing during the newest episode of the game. My job putting me through mental and physical hell (it’s a very demanding job)? I daydreamed about Nathaniel and Alana. My mother’s disease progressing and making my mother put my grandmother and me through hell? I would go in my room and write a section of my story or edit a pic when I could. Hell, My Candy Love became so prominent in my life as an escape that when my abuser’s daughter came back at me (this time with my boyfriend’s ex friend), one of the things she’d say to me was “All you do is sit in your room and write fanfiction.”... I needed something and My Candy Love and it’s fandom was something I enjoyed that kept me in my room (where I felt safe)... To this day, my boyfriend understands why I’ve put so much time and effort into it... Why I’ve spent so much money on it (AP, Gold, commissioned pics, and items)... It was a light in what felt like a sea of darkness in my life...

Now, I’m going to clarify something here... What is written in the last paragraph took place over the course of 5 years... Of course, when I get to the point of 2020, its easy to guess some of the reasons why I continued to focus on My Candy Love... However, I have an added reason.... Not only did the pandemic bitch slap Texas mid March, but about a week before that happened, on March 10th, my mother succumbed to the secondary infection brought on by her disease... And I had to grieve... Of course, when the pandemic hit about week later, I was told by society that I didn’t have time to grieve... As I am a grocery store worker... Which, I still tried to use My Candy Love as a means of escape... It felt like life was going “Yeah, you’re free from your mom’s disease, now here’s one that YOU could bring home to your grandparents and kill them with simply by going to work!”... Because, I’m sure even you know how poorly America has handled the pandemic... And Texas is one of the worst states when it comes to that...

I’m not saying this to make you feel sorry for me... Not in the slightest... I’ve leaned on my family, friends, and boyfriend for everything, so it’s not JUST My Candy Love that got me through all of this... I’m telling you this because My Candy Love and what I’ve done for it has helped me with it all immensely. I thought I had lost my passion for writing while I was still in school, even though my favorite teacher was encouraging me to continue... And here I am still writing my MCL fanfiction... Not only am I still writing my fanfic, I’m getting it turned into 1 copy of an actual book for my shelf when I’m done... When I took photography in High School and wasn’t good at photoshop, I thought it would never be a skill I’d use... And, yet, over the course of my time with MCL, my photo editing skills have improved DRASTICALLY... Sure, I can’t really edit real life photos... But I can make stuff for MCL avatars and such...

I mean, if someone had told me 8 years ago that I’d be so invested in this game that I’d have a body pillow of my favorite love interest, a folder of commissioned art, a blog with over 1,300 followers, an Instagram with nearly 300 followers, a custom plushie of my favorite love interest, a Discord Server with around 200 people in it... That I’d be the Vice President/Club Photographer of the US version of a fan club... That I’d make friends throughout the world in the fandom... That my editing skills would become as good as they are now... That I’d be working on the biggest writing project I’ve EVER worked on... And that I’d cry at the last episode the same way I cried during the Season 8 finale of Scrubs, the series finale of iCarly, Matt Smith’s regeneration in Doctor Who and the ending of Deathly Hallows Part 2... I would have told them that they’re crazy....

Yet... Here I am... I’m turning 26 years old in July... And all of that has happened... In real life, I’m still dealing with the pandemic, I’ve celebrated my 5 year anniversary with my boyfriend, and I’m even preparing to move in with him... Yet, online, I’m still VERY invested in your game. I’m still a long way from finishing my OC’s story... I still want to edit pics for Nathaniel and Alana... And I’m going to be contemplating playing the new game for a while... I’ll still play events... As long as Nathaniel is around, I’ll be there to greet him with a smile... But I don’t know about your new project...

All that being said.... There’s one MAJOR thing I’d like to say to you, Chino....

THANK YOU!

Thank you for everything! For all your hard work in this story... It’s far from perfect, but I still enjoyed the majority of it... For creating Nathaniel, the holder of my 2D heart.... Seriously, thank you for creating him... I have anime crushes, but I don’t love them as deeply as I love Nath.... Thank you for your art! Its amazing! You’re in my top 3 favorite digital artists... The others being Drachea Rannak and Marco Albiero... Thank you for all the work you continue to put into the game that a lot of us have, kind of, grown up with.... I wasn’t really a kid when I started playing, but I do consider myself to have “grown up” with it... Thank you for all of the other love interests... For Castiel, Kentin, Armin, Lysander, Priya, Rayan and Hyun... They’re not the ones I love most, but they’re all interesting characters... Thank you for Candy... While she and Alana greatly differ from each other, Candy was the heroine in a story that gave birth to Alana... Candy is far from perfect, but I’m glad her story ended well.... Thank you for creating the game that brought this fandom into existence... While the fandom can be VERY toxic at times, there are a lot of amazing people in it... They have become some of my dearest friends...

While the entire My Candy Love team at Beemoov deserves my gratitude... I feel like you are the most deserving of it... Because, without you, My Candy Love would not exist.

I look forward to seeing My Candy Love’s future... Either from the sidelines, or from the middle of it... I will see it’s future...

Thank you ChiNoMiko.

All my love and respect,

Melody Alana Roster

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lovee-infected · 3 years

Note

When will it come out where Epel cut off MC I am still waiting until this day (I'm waiting) I'm not rushing you at all but I hope you are doing well 😢 (im sad)

“Apple of my eye”

(A/N): Sorry that it took so long! Hope you enjoy this anyway dears! ~ ♡

Ever since Epel decided to cut ties with you after learning the truth of you being a girl, his life has been nothing but an absolute nightmare. He's got his days filled with fear and his nights filled with regret, wishing there to be a way for both of you to forget. Forget all the times you made him laugh, and all the times he made you cry. He wanted there to be a way for the of you to move on with your lives as if you'd never hurt one another like now. But as it is for now, he is just one step far from being trapped inside this hell forever alone, because you're finally about to leave the twisted wonderland, forever.

Living in Night Raven college has brought you nothing but pain since the day Epel, your trusted best friend and the guy you once loved rejected you after learning the fact that you are a girl. Each and every second spent around all your friends and people you used to admire felt like a torture. How long? For how long are you going to wait until them too throw you away like Epel did? For how much longer can you pretend to be fine until everyone left around you turn their backs on you as well? Days? Weeks? Months? Or have they already given up on you?

You can't take it, it just hurts so much. Even when there's a friend around, it feels like you're ready to break down in tears and run away again and again; just like it happened with Epel. Why does it hurt you so much though? You were supposed to be strong. You were all on your own when you first came into twisted wonderland, you thought you'd be able to handle it again on your own from now on. But uh, how wrong you were. To think that you'd be as strong as you used to now that your dearest one has left you behind...

No wonder why you immediately agreed to Headmaster Crowley's offer when he argued that he might've found a way to send you back home by passing through the black mirror under 2 conclusions : 1) You'll never be able to make a return to twisted wonderland and 2)You won't remember anyone, or anything from this world. As if it has never existed.

At this point, forgetting Epel and everything about him forever seemed to be the only way of letting go of the pain... Now that you can't have him, best would be to never remember how much you once loved.

"(y/n)... is leaving?" Epel murmurs. Rook shakes his head as a yes, all he could do was to at least let Epel know after how things had gone between you and him lately.

Perhaps Rook was the only one who exactly knows happened that morning, the day Epel tainted each and every memory you once had beside him which you used to recall as your sweetest days of life.

Even as Rook was just sneak peaking behind the wall and all he could do was to listen to Epel shouting and you trying to calm him a bit, he's pretty certain that he heard the sound of your heart breaking the moment Epel mercilessly told you that he's cutting ties with you.

Young Epel really did have a hidden dark side all this time, didn't he...?

Lucky of him that Rook was the only one who saw that. Rook may not be that respective toward people's privacy, but he does know how to keep a friend's secret. As for now, he had to agree that your case was concerning. Not just for you but for Epel himself as well. It's pretty rare of him to feel so but he you can tell that he does care.

"In a few days or so, just enough of time for her to patch stuff up and, well, say goodbye to her friends,"

Friends, huh? To think that not so long ago Epel deserved to be reminded as your friend... How fast did it all change,right? Time is an absolutely terrifying thing, he thinks.

A moment of silence passes until Rook speaks up: "Aren't you going to say goodbye?"

'Say good bye',...This sentence keeps on being repeated inside Epel's head. Why would you even want to hear these words coming from him while Epel himself was the only reason that you have to leave? He hurt you and there was no way to undo what he did to you, even if he could one day be able to face that you, his best friend and at some point, the only friend ever since he stepped into night raven college are a girl, it was impossible to look into your eyes again like he hadn't done all the terrible works he did.

That is a fact, he can't fix a broken heart, neither his or yours. Yes, he was mad at you and is still mad. He felt so used to see that you of all people couldn't even trust him with such a simple thing like your gender. The fearful thought of you getting that close to him because he was nothing but a naïve boy who couldn't tell the difference between male and female. If so, were all the times you told Epel that you cared for him a lie? Did you just want to play him around because he was a lonely boy who didn't have any other friends to talk to? Did you too find him stupid...? Why (y/n)? Why..??

Epel bites his lower lip trying his best not to cry in front of Rook. He already cries enough every night in bed and doesn't need another audience watching him suffer.

"Epel?" Rook calls, making Epel realize that he hasn't yet answered his question.

No, he isn't going to walk up to you just to say goodbye. But if he refuses to do so, wouldn't it make that heartless "I'd rather cut ties with you" his very last sentence to you...?

Epel rolls over and his bed again again, another sleepless night. Though something made this night worse than the previous ones, tommorow would be the day that you'll quit his world forever, and he didn't even come to say his last goodbye...

When was the last time he Epel got a proper night sleep anyway? He can't remember. He's sure been a while that he wanted to take a second in peace, either through sleeping or through reality. When he was awake, he wanted to shut his eyes on life. When he tried to sleep, it either ended with him squirming in his surprisingly 'uncomfortable' bed all the time or waking up wet in sweat from another nightmare.

The only time he actually got to sleep for a minute at least was during classes. 'Hopelessly romantic boy', his classmates teasingly called him. Telling how those who're slowly falling in love would lose the track of their lives and become a total mess like Epel was. Epel never said a word in opposition as he didn't want to end up telling them the story of him recklessly breaking your heart after all you'd done for him, yet it was already obvious that he didn't like this term being used for him at all.

Hopelessly romantic boy...huh?

His insomnia issues were no joke, he couldn't concentrate during classes at all. His vision was all blurry and his eyes felt heavily sleepy. Teachers kept on talking and talking while Epel just stared at the mess of words forming enormous sentences in the books until his eyes went shut. There were a few times that even teachers ended up having to shake him after the class to wake him up before sending him to the headmaster's office right away.

"Young Felmier, are you okay? You've been looking very, uh,you know, different lately"

Is he okay? He's been asking himself the same question for a while.

"Yes, Headmaster"

'I, am not okay.'

He hasn't been okay for a long while, at least he's well aware of it. But there's no point in letting anyone else know, right? Perhaps the only one who might've understood how horrible he is feeling right now... was you. Epel drowns in thoughts and memories are brought back to him:

It's been months since then, but it feels like it was just a minute ago, that he had his head on your shoulder as his warm tears soaked your clothes and his warm breath brushed against your neck. It was probably one of his worse days ever. He ran off having tears in his eyes in front of enormous people, yet not a single soul cared to come after him but you. He was a total mess when you found him under the apple tree, his face was flushed and his diamond blue eyes were filled with pain and tears. You didn't even know him much but seeing him like that, in pain and tears, Epel was no more than a stranger but for some reason...it still hurt. You couldn't take it. Accepting hugs from strangers isn't really his thing, but to be comforted right as you need nothing more than an embrace to cry on, it felt...nice.

You've been always beside him from then on, he couldn't really tell why. He was neither too strong nor too smart, he wasn't any famous or rich either. He was nothing but a random country boy who got noticed by you, the mysterious student who got widely popular throughout the school because of their bravery and strength to fight against several overblots without having any magic after a rather short time.

He often felt proud of how lucky he was to have you. It wasn't just because of how famous and adored you later became, he could tell that there was something special about you from the very beginning. You probably didn't notice but when he first met you at the enterence ceremony, he didn't realize that he'd been keeping his eyes on you all the time. He didn't know why, what could the reason be? Curiosity? A childish interest? Or... something else than these?

From the day after, he couldn't take his eyes off you. It was strange, he doesn't usually get to see someone this much around, but you...you were always there. Right in front of him.

He couldn't help but to watch silently until you walked up to him and started to chat, he can't ever forget how silly his first conversation with you went. He was stressed out whether you'd realized the way he was staring at you all this time, could be that you were offended? He was honestly expecting this to be another trouble coming his way but to his surprise, it wasn't.

Though it took a rather long time for him to finally gain full trust on you, after a while spending time with you wasn't simply something he enjoyed doing. It became a part of his daily routine. No matter what, he wanted to see you, no, he needed to see you. Make sure that you're right, that everything between you is still the same, that he'd have you by his side for another the day he won't be left all alone if anything goes wrong.

You were his reason to keep his self-esteem built-up no matter how rough life could be, you were the only one who could give him a safe shoulder to cry on and and an embrace to close his eyes through and the thought of still having you was what gave him the purpose to keep on smiling through another rough day.

Epel nails the white bedsheets as he digs his wet face harder into the pillow, trying not to scream at the pain. What has he done? Why? Why??

How could he do this to you, the person he adored and cared for the most? Yes, you lied, but so did he. He never wanted to cut ties with you. He was furious and insecure, afraid that you might've never considered him any more than an emotional fool. It scared him, he didn't want to be the idiot you'd one say leave behind without caring to let him know that you never needed him back.

He couldn't let go of you as you'd became a part of Epel himself after all this time you've been together.

He was scared of what bigger things you might've hidden from him, including your true feelings for him. What if deep inside, all you saw through him was a helpless toy to use?

Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts,...they were driving him insane.

It hurt way too much to the point of thinking that he hated you. He never did, how could he? Even if he ever ends up hating everything and everyone including himself like he does now, there's no way that he'd you. You were his everything, his happiness, his hope, his wish, his angel.

'Hopelessly romantic boy'... What if his classmates were right about him though?

Oh lord, what is wrong with him? He can no longer deny the fact that he did fall in love with you while he thought it was nothing more than a simple friendship.

Only if he'd realized this sooner, only if he could've said that he loves you instead of asking you to get out of his life, only if he could've had a second chance to hug you one more time and tell you how he truly feels...

And now, it's too late to regret what he's done. You probably hate him now, and he knows that he deserves to be hated. He was the reason of your teary eyes and sleepless nights. And he and only him, was the reason of you wanting to leave all your of your friends and your memories with them behind by making a return to your own world.

As it's clear than he doesn't deserve you and your love, he decides to let his heart burn inside the flames Epel started on his own.

Let him suffer in the name of you, his one and only love, for eternity.

It's past noon yet Epel doesn't want to get out of bed. He doesn't want to look at the clock, though he's pretty sure that you've already left his world.

He wonders...where are you right now? Back to your own world? Next to the friends and family whom you love? You sure don't remember him anymore but...are you happy? Will you now live as the happy (y/n) he'll always love without him there to hurt you again?

"Sorry (y/n), sorry..." He whispers underneath his breath. Hot tears stream down Epel's face, and he squeezes his eyelids shut in the hope his tears would stop. He sat on his bed unmoving, with his choppy breathing and watery eyes remaining for quite a while. He was so lost through his pain and sorrow that didn't hear the knock on his door at first.

"Who there?-" Epel murmurs through his tear. It's probably Rook, wanting to see why he didn't make it to school today. His door continues to be knocked on, yet Epel doesn't care to answer thr sound. Doesn't matter who the hell is at the door, he doesn't want to talk right now.

He hides his face under the blanket, can't he just cry in peace? He hears the sound of his door sliding open, but doesn't bother getting the blanket off his head. He annoyedly wraps himself tighter in bed. 'Whoever you are, just leave me alone. Please, I don't want to-'

Takes a few seconds until he feels the blanket being pulled off him, he vaguely turns his head, ready to shout: "GET LOST" at whoever his interrupter is. He opens his mouth to yell but the sight of the person standing in front of him leaves him speechless.

Your bodies remain still as your eyes are locked, neither of you move a finger until you break the silence:

"Epel..." you whisper. He looks pretty different from the last time you saw him. His face looks much paler and thinner now, and from the swelling bags under his eyes you could tell that he hasn't really been sleeping well lately. The the rage and hatred you saw last time in his eyes is now replaced with emptiness and sorrow, a severe pain that makes your heart ache for him one more time. He looks so, so broken. So lost, so sad. It hurts a lot seeing him like this, though you'd sworn never to think of him the way you used to again.

"I, I came to say goodbye-" you say nervously. What is Epel having in mind now? How is he going to respond? From the way your last conversation went you could certainly tell that he held nothing else than for you now, but you, could you be the same?

Epel didn't show up to say goodbye which was another evidence of him not wanting to see your face ever again, but something deep inside your heart, something you couldn't let go of ever after he let you down told you to come to say your very last goodbye.

Epel's eyes widen in fascination. This time, he can't hold back his tears from falling. You won't stop surprising him until the very last second, will you?

Right at the moment you are expecting him to be mad and push you back again, he throws himself into your embrace. You are about to say a word, but all you can do is to let Epel feel your warm embrace and the torrent of his tears soak through your shirt. It is too painful to see him like this.

"Wh-why...Why-are you like this-? Why did you come? Why are you still being this kind?? Why can't you just hate me!?" he painfully screams through his tears. You can feel him clench his fists, as he pushes himself closer to you. You have your emotions mixed up, you can't tell wether you should be sad or happy. But here he is, crying into your embrace like he used to do before. For a second it feels like your paths had never been torn apart, that you never got separated and he never said those words which hurt you the most.

You let him rest his head on your shoulder and run your fingers through his hair, time and time again, in an attempt you calm the silent war within his mind.

For the hundredth time, you are reminded of how much he meant to you, from the very moment you were interested in getting to know about the pale lavender-haired guy who's been secretly watching you all the time.

You remember all the times he made you laugh and that sweet smile he always put on when he greeted you in the morning, you remember each and every time that he needed your embrace to either cry or feel a bit better after the hard they he might've gone through.

You remember all the times you silently cried in bed knowing that you were slowly falling for the young boy who you genuinely held dear, that he was slowly becoming the apple of your eye.

And there he was, walking in front of you, unaware of the feelings you, young (y/n) had for him and how he was truly, the one and only for you, the apple of your eye.

Before you know it, Epel is no longer the only one crying. You hold him tighter, pushing your head to his shoulder and letting your hot tears fall off your eyes, realizing how much you've missed him after all this time. Epel doesn't pull back, instead he follows and allows your bodies to come closer and closer, until there's no space left. At the moment your bodies are close enough to become one, he's got the rhythm of your chest raising and on his body and you've got his on yours. Warm breaths brushing against each other's face that it makes it almost hard to breathe.

For a second, it feels as if you and him are the only beings on the whole world and your world is skipped inside the warmth you're drowning through right now. There's no past, no future, no pain, no feelings at all. All you know is the present you're having with him, wishing that this moment would last forever.

"I...I love you," Epel whispers, only loud enough for you to hear him under your fascinated gaze. You let out silent gasp as your head's still on the back of his shoulder.

'What did he just say..?'

Those words...those 3 forbidden words you thought you'd never him Epel them back if you ever did. Yet you kept on loving him, totally aware that he might never develop such feelings for you back.

You were supposed to make a return to your own world by now, all you'd came for was a simple goodbye to someone you were supposed to consider your ex-best friend, but you know that it would be a lie. He wasn't just your best friend, he was once your everything: Your love, your smile, your tears, your hope. Even after he bitterly told you to cut ties with him, you couldn't let go of the feeling. You felt empty without him, a life without him was clueless and dark, you felt so lost, so empty, so brokenhearted. You'd lost Epel, and never thought that you'll ever get to have him close again, let alone hearing him say that he loves you back.

And now, it's all up to you. What are you going to do now? For the first time in a while, your future now relies on nothing but your very own choice. You're caught in the middle of the path, stuck between leaving the twisted wonderland for your very own sake or staying here with Epel, in a stranger world which you don't belong to, next to the guy you once appreciated the most.

With everything you've been going through all this time, what will you choose to do? How will this story come to an end? Choosing to go and leave all the pain together with all the happiness you've been experiencing next Epel all this time behind, or letting go of the past and giving him a second to maybe lead you through a life you once dreamed to have with him?

Epel has probably got a lot more to say other than that three words, knowing that you're probably running out of time if you're going to return to your own world, next to the family and beloved ones you haven't met in forever, are you still going to stay here with Epel and allow him to talk? With all the things that he did to you and made you have a severe mental breakdown afterwards, are you still to give him your attention and love, and let him have a chance to be the apple of your eye again...?

#twisted wonderland #Twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #rook Hunt #epel felmier x reader #Apple of my eye #Pomefiore #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #epel felmier

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thejudgingtrash · 3 years

Note

Can you explain to me how Rachel was annoying in the series?

Well, I’ll try to keep myself short for this one (lol no, this took an hour to write). Also, let’s not forget that they’re all kids, but I’m basing this off from when I read the series as a fourteen year old because my opinions haven’t changed much (for better or for worse).

I’m not the biggest fan of Rachel. I have to admit that portrayals of her by Simi, Kit, Logan, Apollo and all the others helped to shape her into something cooler than what she had been in my foggy memories but I actually went back to take a look in the books (well, TTC + BOTL so far) to refreshen my mind about events that have happened.

Also, you should browse through @blackjacktheboss's blog as she’s a) hilarious and b) says whatever I say in like a single sentence lol. But your ask is about me and my opinions so here we go:

What I didn’t like about Rachel was that she’s rude and bold (DON’T GET ME WRONG, I love that in female characters!!!), but she doesn’t have Annabeth’s excuse of survival of the fittest (literally running off as a traumatized seven year old) and introducing us into the world of the Riordanverse.

Percy was on his way, had shit to deal with and Rachel pretty much interrupted him from the get-go and thought getting her answers was more important than letting Percy just rush forward. Yes, this is Rachel’s entrance into the series and the net Riordan threw into the sea, to make us little fish adapt to her. But it still didn’t sit right with me, probably because I would never interact that way.

I get why she did that, but it’s the way how she did it that’s just making me go ???

Even if I was seeing weird things, I wouldn’t set out to distract/interrupt someone who is incredibly busy to get my way. Rachel’s dick move seems like a Karen boomer type of thing to pull off, but guess that’s up to you.

If I were her, I’d either film/try to photograph the monsters via phone (if that’s possible) or internet stalk enough to find the other person (note: despite Riordan’s stupid rule of not being able to use phones, demigods still can use computers/the internet, I guess). Percy was national news like a year or two ago in the timeline, so it shouldn’t be that difficult to find more stuff out about him, even in like 2008 or so. Let him have a spot on Perez Hilton's shitty gossip blog, for the OGs reading this.

Annabeth was used as a tool of exposition to introduce us to CHB, the demigod life and how things roll around there. She barged into Percy’s mission as a nuisance first but a necessity second in TLT.

However, in comparison to Rachel, Annabeth was transformed into a fully-fledged protagonist within a span of a chapter or two. Rachel needed another separate book after her first appearance, so we don’t just know Annabeth better, we know that she’s an important constant throughout the story as of Rachel seems… almost random? Is she truly necessary as a character?

This doesn’t come from a shipper perspective, this is coming from a character design perspective and adds to the feeling that the way she has been introduced to me as a reader just seems off.

Yes, BOTL makes sense with her as a reborn Ariadne, but technically Sally could’ve done the job as she’s a clear-sighted mortal as well lol. Then again, Sally is an adult, went to college, had a job, was unfortunately probably working it up with Paul, did the cha cha slide with him and had overall better shit to do.

Then Rachel as the oracle, which is just super weird in general. Wasn’t Apollo himself responsible for issuing prophecies in the OG myths? Or did he both, have the oracle of Delphi as his spokesperson and issue important stuff to Team Olympus? Am I mixing things up? I’m getting sidetracked, my bad.

Either way, this oracle gig might be the only time I’d say Rachel might be important in the future (badum tzz), but Riordan fumbled the bag in the follow ups series so there’s that. Did she even appear in HOO? Can’t remember and also don’t care.

Rachel is used as one out of three choices in regard to his love life that Percy can make. Calypso literally got introduced into BOTL and was admittedly Percy’s biggest what if… But the general gist doesn’t sit right with me. We have three possible routes with Percy and the others:

Rachel: somewhat normality in the mortal realm

Annabeth: the danger and thrill of the demigod life

Calypso: ambrosia and nectar. a hint of immortality

(On one hand, literally why but on the other hand, mad props for Percy who has literally three romantic leads in the same book.) I’d cancel one of them at least out and since Annabeth isn’t going anywhere, I’m taking Rachel. Sally could literally been Percy’s anchor to a normal mortal life as she had intended until it didn’t work out anymore when he became twelve and his monster alerting scent grew stronger.

Calypso and Annabeth would’ve been the perfect opposites where each of them had a strong case. The demigod life within the realms or mortal or the demigod life ascending to Olympus/immortality. Sounds cooler and is way simpler. Three people is way too much, this truly feels like a shonen anime harem thing and it’s defo not my cup of tea (and while some Annabeth sideships aren’t my thing (Lukabeth go cry in the corner, no one likes you, WTF, Connabeth you fugly), it’s super unfair that Annabeth solely has Percy (fuck off Luke) to rely on in regards of romantic endeavors).

Rachel almost feels redundant? The option to walk away from all of that… which isn’t really true as Rachel really tries to push and insert herself into the story the very first time we meet her? But that’s just me, I’m certain that others are saying they’d kill off Annabeth or kick Calypso (I mean yeah) into the curb.

Big ALSO:

Why does Percy need another white and uber-rich love interest?

I semi-joked on Dez’ post (@sawasawako) with this response about Annabeth needing to keep up with powerful Rachel, but the core still stands.

We already have an affluent Annabeth (granted, we don’t know exactly how the Chase’s riches are divided, whereas it’s clear that Rachel can just make anyone drop dead by saying who she is. Annabeth needed that weird lotus casino credit card to make that happen, so Miss Harvard Legacy doesn’t wield that Dare schmoney. Also don’t think Annabeth can just up papa’s money and go…? Idk).

Why do we need another person needing to upstage this?

Like Rachel has to triumph in regards to standard and prestige as if it were a badly written Jane Austen AU. For what reason…? Why not make Percy friends and acquaintances with someone who comes from a normal household for once, not super rich brats (Piper, Annabeth, Rachel, technically the Graces with their TV starlet mother amongst others).

Moreover…

Important question: why should Percy actually be impressed/attracted to that? He’s dirt poor and has been sent to (boarding) schools filled with stupid rich people since he’s been twelve, probably even younger than that. As if that’s the very first thing Percy would look out for or be wowed or something. He’s used to rich douchebags. I think he’s more surprised that someone used their money for his benefit for once and not to crash daddy’s new Mercedes again.

Like seriously… Rachel did that weird art project thing in BOTL with her covered in gold and posing like it’s a super normal thing to do? Even for rich snobbish kids standards? That sounds weird to me. I don’t know, maybe Riordan’s been streaming the new Gossip Girl reboot on HBO Max on repeat and thought this girl is on fiyah (performed by Alicia Keys).

Rachel trying to separate herself from her money just comes off as super hypocritical when she’s using the very same funds to finance her lifestyle. I get it, trying to make amends and make a difference with the damage you have done but... your father still doesn't give a shit about the environment or YOU, sweetie. Kick him in the balls for once! Then you can go out about your art projects.

The concept of Percy having friends in the mortal realm is cool, but why does Rachel almost have to compete with Annabeth with her wealth and art stuff?

No seriously, the comparisons are constantly there, out and about. Roaming freely on the finest grass, needing to be feed delicious locally sourced carrots and stuff.

Annabeth is Athena’s kid. Athena is the goddess of wisdom, weaving, justice, warfare yada yada and arts and crafts. So definitely something which would affect Rachel, right (someone write that Athena messing with Rachel because she can AU and tag me please!)?

Annabeth wants to become an architect which translates to fancy building designer who is driving engineers like Leonardo Eugenio Valdez Cortes insane irl because the maths and physics don't work like that in the working field trust me I'm an engineer, which could/should be considered an art form.

They even shared some common ground while talking about architecture and design in BOTL!

Furthermore, they both share broken homes with absent parents (granted that all demigods go through that). Wealthy families at that as well. Shitty fathers that don’t care about their daughters well-being. Rachel however, is super powerful and influential in an unseen level in the mortal world. She isn’t like Matt Sloan (?) who truly messes up by destroying shit to get his father's attention, but she’s still in that circle and can easily demonstrate that. Making deals with her father and what not. We rarely see Annabeth doing that. Did y’all forget the fucking helicopter Rachel brought along in TLO?

Pan saying Rachel is just as important as her father has multiple meanings to me…

(Sidenote: I do think it’s hilarious that Annabeth is jealous/annoyed of Rachel that her remarks were she’s cute right and Percy went??? Or when Tyson said Rachel’s pretty? Or that time when Annabeth actually defended Luke and his weird behavior (because Kronos was slowly taking over, don’t forget that kids!), because f that rich artist nepotism kid that Rachel seems to be, right?)

Another note: Percy thinks Rachel is annoying in BOTL for a while and it took a while for him to admit that and he spent way more time being annoyed/jealous (for once, Lordy) at Luke for him to even notice lol.

I guess it’s really hard for me to exactly pinpoint what’s bothering me. I believe Rachel's persona just doesn’t seem to hit right, because it feels like a knock-off Annabeth who just simply isn’t a demigod, yet has two cool powers, but in even richer who still needs to be part of the story for exactly what reason?

The jumping around from the richest in the series to the poorest in the series is kinda bothering me as if the middle class doesn’t exist, like I’ve stated earlier. Why didn’t Riordan mix it up with Rachel, giving her more nuance the minute they met, not towards the end? Have her be Percy’s platonic friend from the get go. No weird oh wait she is kinda cute in the middle bullshit.

This kinda drifted more into a Perachel vs Percabeth essay, which really wasn’t my intention. Don’t worry kids, I’m criticizing Annabeth (and her stans) enough already.

And I do think that others in the fandom have softened my views on Rachel as a person like I’ve stated in the beginning. So friendship!Perachel is popping! But I do think that there are some valid points that I’ve made.

Also not gonna lie, Rachel issuing the new prophecy in TLO kinda dampened the end of PJO series but that’s more Riordan’s fault than hers.

TLDR: I’m just not a huge fan of this overbearing, uber-rich, excessively flaunting being that Rachel sometimes displays. She’s flawed, she’s broken at times, has a semi-interesting background story (although it has been done over and over again throughout the series and should be changed up for once) which is great, but it is still annoying.

We don’t need an anti-Annabeth who feels like a weird caricature of the real Annabeth.

Also if this seems super incoherent, repetitive, or whatever, I'm sorry, massive headaches + mental health going down the goo lagoon does this to ya, I hope I made somewhat sense!

#Mel answers #pjo #percy jackson #rachel elizabeth dare #rachel dare #Annabeth chase #percabeth #pjo Meta #percy jackson and the olympians #pjato #ttc #botl #tlo

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 3 years

Text

Dream Come True (K.TH)

Warnings : swearing, mentions of sex, escort service

Synopsis : dream come true is an escort service that can make all your fantasies come to life. all he needs is a date to his cousins wedding and she looks like the perfect choice. she agrees almost immediately, excited to crash her exes wedding on the arm of his cousin. neither one of them expected anything more than a little revenge, but a destination wedding is the perfect place to fall in love.

Word Count : 6372

Dream Come True : All Your Fantasies Brought To Life. It intrigued a broke college student like me. I was recently single and could use the extra cash, so I didn’t even think twice before signing up, filling out all my information, uploading a few pictures, and reading through the terms. The clients would read the bios of each girl and decide which one would best suit their needs and bring their fantasy to life.

As a worker, I could decide which clients I would take on, and made my own rules. It was hard at first, but as the years went on, it became easier to become the perfect girlfriend for my clients for one night. It was rare I was needed for more than one night, even more rare that I was needed for more than a couple days. So when I saw a request for a destination wedding for two weeks, I was intrigued.

I sat at the café in the Dream Come True headquarters, scrolling through my phone as I waited for my new potential client to arrive. “Y/N?” He asked, causing me to look up as I locked my phone and put it down. I gestured for him to take a seat. I was taken aback by the handsome man who sat down across from me. Usually my clients were older gentlemen with money to spend, but this guy looked my age and definitely wouldn’t have trouble finding a date. “I know this seems like an odd request.” I shook my head.

“A bit different, but not odd. You’d be surprised how many weddings I’ve been to.” I joked, trying to lighten the mood. I could tell he was nervous.

“How long have you been doing this?” He questioned. I reached out and grabbed my drink before taking a small sip and setting it back on the table.

“Probably almost 3 years now.” His eyes widened at the answer, but I didn’t let it bother me. “It’s easy money that’s paying my way through university, so I’m not complaining. Now, tell me more about this destination wedding.” He nodded, clearing his throat.

“It’s my cousin’s wedding and it’s kind of a big deal. I had RSVP’d a couple months ago with a plus one, intending to introduce my family to my girlfriend.” I nodded, crossing one leg over the other and leaning forward in my chair. “She actually broke up with me last week and I don’t want to go to this wedding I already said I’d bring a plus one to alone.”

“That would be pretty embarrassing.” He agreed.

“Yeah, especially since the whole thing will be covered in the media.” My eyes widened, even more intrigued than I was before. “Like I said, this wedding is a big deal. My cousin getting married is Kim Seokjin.” I almost choked on my drink at that piece of information.

“THE Kim Seokjin?” I asked to clarify, my heart starting to beat faster. He nodded and I sat back in my chair, weighing my options. The money I could make from this job would definitely pay off the rest of my tuition and then some and seeing my exes face while I showed up to his wedding on his cousin’s arm would be priceless. But was I really ready to face him again? It’s been 3 years, but the love we shared doesn’t just disappear, at least not for me.

“I understand this is going to be pricey, but I’m willing to pay anything.” I met his eyes and could see this desperation behind them. “The trip is completely paid for, and we’ll really only need to be a couple for a few days, the others you can go off and sightsee as much as you like.” I thought of the heartbreak Kim Seokjin put me through just because I wasn’t some heiress, and in that moment I’d honestly do it for free if I didn’t absolutely need the money.

“I’ll give you a discount if you’re willing to pay for the trip itself.” I told him and opened the notebook I brought with me to talk price. We then went over terms and boundaries. By the end, I pulled a contract out of my folder and explained the major points of it and slid it over for him to sign. “It’ll be a pleasure working with you.” I smiled, holding out my hand for him to shake.

“I can’t believe you’re going to your exes wedding as his cousin’s fake girlfriend.” My best friend, Namjoon shook his head. He had come over the minute I told him I’d be leaving on a two-week work trip. Telling him my job when I first started it was nerve-wracking as I didn’t know if he’d view me differently. Instead of judging me, he’s been calling me his sugar mommy for these past 3 years.

“I can’t wait to see his face.” I laughed as I zipped up my second bag and placing it by the door. Taehyung told me since I was going as his girlfriend, he would have a driver pick me up and he’d meet me at the airport so we could arrive together.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Namjoon was the one who held me as I cried over the breakup. He was the one who bought me ice-cream and watched dumb rom coms with me. He’s the reason my heart healed in the first place.

“It’s been 3 years. He’s obviously moved on. It’s my turn to get back at him for all the heartache I’ve dealt with. Besides, how could I turn down a free vacation before my final year?” Namjoon laughed as he shook his head. “I’ll bring you back lots of gifts.” He wrapped his arms around me, telling me to call him if I needed anything. “I should go. Taehyung says the driver should be outside.” Namjoon grabbed my bags without me even asking and brought them down to the car, me following closely behind.

“I’ll see you when you come back. I want all the details.” I leaned up to kiss his cheek and told him I’ll give him all the tea as soon as I return.

Taehyung kept his promise and was waiting for me at the airport. The driver he hired to pick me up walking behind me, carrying my bags against my will. Taehyung smiled when he saw me and reached to take the bags from the driver. “Thank you for taking care of my girlfriend, Jun Ho. Are you ready to go?” I nodded as Taehyung handed my bags off to someone else who put them on a bag cart that held his bags. “Then off we go.” I linked my arm with his as we headed to board the plane.

The entire plane ride, Taehyung went over more things I’d need to know, and let me know he had my outfits picked out for the major events we’d be attending. It was eating me up inside not telling him about the history I had with his cousin, but I couldn’t risk him changing his mind and me not getting the revenge I deeply wanted.

A car picked us up from the airport and drove us to the hotel we’d be staying at, and I got to know more about Taehyung. I knew by the time the wedding came; our relationship would look very real.

“Should we go explore?” I asked when we got to our hotel room and unpacked a bit. “I figure we should get to know each other before the wedding.” Taehyung quickly agreed, and the two of us headed out. “Oh no, we’re doing this my way.” I wrapped my hands around his forearm, pulling him away from the car he was heading towards.

“What if we get lost?” I shrugged as we began walking away from the hotel and into the city. “You are a strange one.” Taehyung laughed. He slid his hand into mine as we walked.

“It’ll be fun. If we get lost, I’ll let you call your driver to pick us up and take us back.” I said nonchalantly and swung our arms back and forth as we walked. The two of us talked as we walked, and I found myself really enjoying his company as I shopped around for gifts for Namjoon. As we entered yet another store, a shirt immediately caught my eye. It was one I know Namjoon would absolutely love, so I beckoned Taehyung over. Though not quite as tall as my best friend, I could still make an assessment by using him.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung laughed as I held the shirt up to his body and tried to envision it on Namjoon.

“I promised my best friend I’d bring him back some gifts and I know this is something he’d love!” I exclaimed with a wide smile on his face.

“So why that hard of a thinking face?” He teased.

“He’s a bit taller than you. So I’m just trying to picture him in it.” Taehyung smiled while shaking his head. It was in this moment that I realized just how similar he was to Kim Seokjin. I tried to hide the hurt I was suddenly feeling and continued to smile while taking the shirt up to the till.

“Let me pay.” Taehyung smiled, pulling out his wallet. I put my hand over his and told him I couldn’t let him, as it was a gift for my friend. “Consider this a thank you for all you’re doing for me.”

“You’re not going to let me pay, are you?” He shook his head.

“Get used to it, princess.” My heart sank at the all too familiar nickname. Seokjin would always call me his princess, promising me a life of riches that I told him over and over again I didn’t need. Get used to it, princess. He would tell me again and again. I was really prepared to spend the rest of my life with him. I was ready to throw away my dreams and focus on being his wife and stand by his side as he took over the family business.

Taehyung and I headed back to the hotel as the sun began to set. I had my arm linked with his as he carried the couple bags of things we bought, and I laughed at some story he told me. As we entered the lobby, my laugh caught the attention of a familiar face who was heading towards the elevator with his wife-to-be. My heart stopped beating when I met his eyes, and his smile fell when he met mine.

“Jin-hyung!” Taehyung exclaimed, not sensing the obvious tension in the air. “Y/N, this is my cousin who’s getting married.” I smiled up at him and held out my hand as Taehyung introduced us seemingly for the first time. “This is my girlfriend.”

“Lovely to meet you. This is my future wife, Chae-Eun.” I shook both of their hands, telling them I was excited for the wedding.

“Why don’t the 4 us grab breakfast in the morning? I’d love to get to know you.” Chae-Eun smiled. Before Seokjin or I could disagree, Taehyung was agreeing, saying we’d meet them in the lobby at 10. We all then gathered in the elevator and silently made our way to our rooms.

“I hope I didn’t overstep by agreeing to breakfast.” Taehyung said as we entered our room. He placed the bags on the ground and gave me an apologetic smile. I shook my head.

“The deal was I’m your girlfriend for 2 weeks.” I reminded him. “Besides, I think it’d be nice to meet the bride and groom before the wedding.” He agreed. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to shower and get ready for bed.” He nodded and told me to go right ahead. I grabbed some pajamas and my phone before locking myself in the bathroom and panic texting Namjoon.

Hold up! So now not only do you have to watch your first love get married, but you also have to go to breakfast with him and his fiancée? He replied back almost instantly.

Yes! And damn does he ever look handsome! I thought back to seeing him as he turned to face me, obviously recognizing my laugh. It’s been 3 years, but he barely aged and looked as good as ever in his obviously tailored suit. Chae-Eun looked perfect next to him in her gorgeous yet simple sundress and heels. She looked better next to him than I ever could. And she’s absolutely perfect. I added before he could reply. I thought I could handle seeing him again, but I didn’t expect to be thrown back 3 years to the person I was, falling in love with him all over again.

No one beats you. He told me, causing a small smile to break out on my face before I started the shower.

When I was finished, I crawled into one of the two beds and Taehyung said he was going to shower. I nodded and unlocked my phone to see a text from a number I thought I deleted. What are you doing here? I debated not saying anything, but I knew I couldn’t avoid him forever. I was here to see him get married.

Taehyung is my boyfriend. Sorry if that bothers you. I responded after carefully wording and then rereading the text.

Are you using him like you did me? I scoffed at his reply, thinking back to our breakup, my heart breaking all over again. Sorry princess, but I could never marry a gold digger. The same nickname he would call me lovingly was suddenly filled with venom as I cried for him to stay. I tried telling him I loved him not for his money.

I never used you. And I’m not using Taehyung, I’m in love with him.

Funny, that’s what you used to say to me. Don’t think for a second that you being here will change my mind about Chae-Eun. I’d never marry a gold digger.

You two look good together. And I’m happier with Taehyung than I ever was with you. My heart broke more and more the longer we texted, but I couldn’t stop myself from responding. At least I was getting a reply now, unlike 3 years ago when I asked for him to just hear me out.

The next morning, I woke up before Taehyung and quietly got ready for breakfast with my ex and his fiancée. Taehyung was awake and sitting in bed when I exited the bathroom, ready to take on the day. “Good morning.” He smiled.

“Good morning.” I smiled back. “You should get ready. We have to meet your cousin and his fiancée in 30 minutes.” He nodded and grabbed some clothes before heading into the bathroom. I took this time to reread my conversation with Seokjin last night and hope I could continue the completely in love girlfriend in front of him.

“Shall we go?” Taehyung asked, stepping out of the bathroom dressed in jeans and a white button up shirt. A different look than I was used to seeing him in, but he certainly did know how to work any outfit. I stood from the bed and smoothed out my dress as I slid on my heels.

“Do I look okay?” I asked, doing a little twirl with a nervous smile on my face. Taehyung smiled wide and took a few steps closer to me, taking my hand in his.

“You look stunning.” He told me softly as he laced our fingers and brought my hand up to his lips to give a soft kiss. The butterflies took flight in my stomach at the simple gesture, and if I’m honest, I didn’t want to stop them. I smiled up at him as the two of us headed down to the lobby, exchanging small talk on the way down. Seokjin and Chae-Eun were already in the lobby waiting for us.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting.” I bowed and the 4 of us piled into the two cars waiting for us out front. Taehyung told me more stories of his childhood and I couldn’t help but giggle at some of the antics he used to get up to as a child. I shared a few of mine, laughing at his reactions to the stories I told him. It felt like I’d known him for years instead of days. And for the first time since I started my job at Dream Come True, I found myself wanting this contract to never end.

Seokjin and Chae-Eun arrived at the restaurant before us and were waiting outside when we pulled up. Taehyung and I were laughing at a story I told him before we got out. I could feel Seokjin’s judgemental eyes on me the second I got out of the car, but I tried not to let it bother me.

“How did you two meet?” Chae-Eun asked, excited to hear everything about mine and Taehyung’s love story.

“Oh my god, it’s so embarrassing!” I exclaimed, covering my face in fake embarrassment. Taehyung wrapped his arm around me, chuckling as he said he found it super cute. “I work part time at a library just off my campus.” I began, diving into the story we made up. About him coming in looking for a specific book, but when he came to ask me a question, I thought he was my co-worker and began talking about the attractive guy I watched walk in before turning around and seeing it was him.

“Her face went completely red, and I couldn’t help but smile. She was really cute.” I felt the heat rise to my cheeks when he said that, and I playfully smacked his arm.

“It was so embarrassing. My co-worker still won’t let me live it down.” I laughed.

“Hey, not only did you help me find the book I needed, but I got a really pretty girlfriend.” He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek just as our waiter came back with our food.

“It seems like you two were made for each other.” Chae-Eun gushed, a wide smile on her face. “I’m so happy Taehyung was able to find someone perfectly matched for him.” Seokjin scoffed as he dug into his food, earning a confused stare from both Chae-Eun and Taehyung.

“Thank you, noona. Y/N gets me better than anyone else I’ve met.” I smiled at him before digging into my own meal, trying to supress my shock at how delicious it was. I can already feel myself getting used to the expensive food all over again.

“You thinking of marrying her?” Seokjin asked casually in between bites of his own breakfast, causing me to almost choke on my food.

“Of course.” Taehyung said casually before taking another bite. “She’s the love of my life.” My heart sunk into my stomach, but I tried to continue to smile.

“I can’t picture anyone else at the end of aisle.” I added, smiling over to Taehyung, who was already looking at me. “But if you’ll excuse me, I have to use the restroom.” I pushed my chair out and headed towards the bathrooms to try and calm my heart. As soon as the door closed behind me, I pulled my phone out and called Namjoon. “This breakfast is a train wreck!” I whisper-yelled into the phone.

“That bad?” He asked.

“Well, Taehyung and I just agreed that we see ourselves getting married.”

“Oof.” I laughed at his response as I tried to hold back the tears.

“Why did I think this was a good idea?” I asked myself more so than Namjoon.

“Money.” I laughed again. “Listen, just fake a stomach-ache and go back to the hotel. Don’t spend anymore time with Seokjin than you have to.” I took a deep breath.

“That’s a good idea. I can’t keep falling in love with him.” We said our goodbyes and I quickly fixed up my makeup, trying to make it look like I didn’t cry. When I exited the bathroom, Seokjin grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the side.

“Why did it have to be my cousin?” He whispered.

“Listen, I didn’t know he was your cousin when we met. By the time I found out, I was already in love with him.” I lied, trying to seem as apologetic and nonchalant as I could.

“I could pretend to love Chae-Eun when you weren’t around, but with you here, it’s so hard.” I ripped my wrist from his grasp.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you’re the one that broke up with me. I have every right to move on with someone who truly loves me and doesn’t see me as just a gold digger.” I tried to walk away and rejoin the table, but he grabbed my arm again and pushed me against the wall, trapping me between his arms.

“Does he really make you happier than I did?” He practically growled into my ear. “Does he love you more than me?” He pulled his face away from my ear and looked into my eyes, bringing one hand from the wall and traced my jaw with his pointer finger as he tipped my head up to better meet his eyes. “Does he make you feel good like I did?” He finished with a smirk. I took a deep breath and pushed him away from me.

“He’s a better boyfriend than you ever were.” I whispered to him as I stormed off towards our table, trying to pretend my heart wasn’t racing, as if I wasn’t completely in love with him. “Sorry, I just suddenly don’t feel well.” I apologized to Chae-Eun and Taehyung when I returned.

“Is everything okay?” Taehyung jumped at the chance to be the protective boyfriend. I told them I just had a stomach-ache and that I’d be fine. “I think we’re going to head out first.” He announced as Seokjin returned to the table. “Can’t have my girlfriend feeling sick.” We stood from the table and made our way out to the car that was waiting for us. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just not used to traveling.” I lied and gave him a small smile. Taehyung nodded and asked the driver to take us back to the hotel.

The two of us spent the rest of the day inside the hotel room, even though I told him he could leave if he wanted to. He refused to leave me, adamant on nursing me back to health. It was then that I wished I met Taehyung before I met Seokjin.

The days leading up to the rehearsal dinner, Taehyung and I explored the city and went to all the tourist places. The more time I spent with him, the more I enjoyed having him by my side. He took amazing photos of me across the city, and I tried my best to take just as good pictures of him, but they never turned out. “How are you so handsome even when I catch you off-guard!” I exclaimed a few times during our time.

“I could ask you how you’re so gorgeous in every picture!” He exclaimed back. I scrolled through the pictures we’ve taken, wishing I could post the ones of the both of us, but I knew I’d just have to delete them when this was all over. So, I just posted the ones he took of me as a memory of time spent with him.

We basically spent all of our time away from the hotel, enjoying the sights and getting to know each other on a level I wasn’t used to with my clients. The guilt ate at me more and more the closer I got to Taehyung. The night before the rehearsal dinner, I broke. “I have something to confess.” I told him as he walked out of the bathroom as we got ready for bed. He sat on his bed, facing me as I tried to figure out exactly what to say. “I dated Kim Seokjin.” I finally spit out, deciding it was best not to beat around the bush. Instead of getting angry and yelling at me, Kim Taehyung just laughed.

“I already know that, princess.” My mouth dropped open. “He always showed you off, posted pictures of you constantly.”

“Why didn’t you say anything!?” I exclaimed, a smile taking over my previous shock. “The guilt about keeping this secret has been eating me alive!” He laughed again.

“Princess, do you really think I just needed you as my plus one because it would be embarrassing to show up alone?” I nodded.

“I don’t make it a habit to question my clients.” He shook his head.

“I chose you knowing you were his ex. I don’t really have anything against my cousin, he’s a good guy, but these trips are so damn boring. I thought I’d add some spice.” I laughed and shook my head.

“I think I’m in love with you, Kim Taehyung.” I chuckled, the smile never leaving my face. “So this whole thing is just entertainment for you.”

“And revenge for you. It’s a win-win. Honestly, seeing his face when he saw you was absolutely priceless.” I playfully smacked his leg after he said that. “Come on! You can’t tell me you’re not having fun.”

“Honestly, this is the most fun I’ve had in years.” He looked at me with a triumphant look on his face and I just shook my head at him.

“Now, let’s get some sleep. We have some drama to stir up.” I crawled into bed as he got up to turn the lights off. This trip just got a whole lot more exciting.

Unfortunately for Taehyung and I, the rehearsal dinner went off without a hitch, and he was right, these events are so boring. So as everyone began to mingle, the two of us snuck out to go elsewhere. “Oh my god, I think we need to breakup dude. I’d fall asleep at my own damn wedding if I had to go through all of that.” I joked as the two of us walked around, enjoying the fresh air.

“Oh, we’re getting married now, are we?”

“Of course. I couldn’t picture anyone else at the end of the aisle.” I repeated my words from the breakfast we had almost a week ago as a joke. “But we’re going to have a fun wedding or I’m divorcing you.” He laughed and I just stopped in my tracks as I looked at him. In that moment as he stopped laughing and walking to turn and ask if I was alright, I realized I was truly falling for him.

“You okay?” He asked, placing his hands on my shoulders, giving me a quick once over, looking for any sign of discomfort or injury. I just stared at his face, his eyes full of concern for my wellbeing, and allowed myself to take in his handsome face. I counted to 3 before allowing myself to break the one rule I made when I started my job and pressed my lips to his in a soft kiss. My arms wrapped around his neck as I pulled him closer, the butterflies in my stomach exploding the second he kissed me back, his arms wrapping around my waist and pulling me closer.

“I’d say I was sorry, but I’m really not.” I smiled when we pulled away, our foreheads pressed together, both of us catching our breath from the kiss. “I’d also say it would never happen again, but I really want to kiss you again.”

“I’m not stopping you, princess.” He whispered and I wasted no time in pressing my lips to his again. “Does this mean we have to breakup before we can have a boring wedding?” He joked as we walked hand-in-hand back to the hotel as the sun set.

“I already said, our wedding it going to be fun or we’re getting a divorce.” I joked back and my heart swelled at the sound of his laughter. “What a first date we’re about to have tomorrow.” I joked. “Quite a story to tell our friends, that our first date was my exes wedding who also happens to be your cousin.”

“Oof, that is quite a first date.” We laughed.

“Wait! Now I can post all those cute pictures of us!” I exclaimed as we walked into the lobby. “I didn’t want to because I didn’t want to have to delete them later.”

“How the hell could you not tell I started to like you for real days ago when we took those pictures?” He shook his head at me as he handed me his phone, his Instagram open for me to see, his most recent 3 pictures being of us. “You obviously don’t follow me, and now I’m offended, and I think we should break up.”

“Too late.” I told him as I handed him my phone, my most recent post open for him to see. It was a picture of the two of us that he took. He stood behind me with one of his arms wrapped around my waist and his chin resting on my head and his other arm extended to take the photo. We both wore wide smiles. It was my favourite picture the two of us took, and I captioned it Mine with a heart.

“I guess I’ll stick around a while longer then.” He handed my phone back and quickly kissed my cheek. As we got into the elevator, Namjoon was calling me, and I burst out laughing. “I’m guessing that’s the best friend and he’s got some questions.”

“You would be correct.” I replied as I answered the phone.

“You bitch!” He exclaimed on the other line. Taehyung burst out laughing, obviously hearing what Namjoon had said. “You go out there as a fake girlfriend to your exes wedding and now you’re posting cute pictures saying mine and shit.” I followed Taehyung out of the elevator when the doors opened and couldn’t help but laugh at my best friend.

“Well, I guess you could say I’m no longer here as a fake girlfriend.” I laughed as Namjoon screamed. Taehyung looked over at me with wide eyes, wondering what the fuck was happening.

“You are NOT actually dating your exes cousin.” Taehyung swiped the phone from my hand and quickly responded to my best friend.

“She absolutely is actually dating her exes cousin.” Before he could hand it back, Namjoon was screaming out his name, causing Taehyung and I both to burst into laughter.

“Namjoon, you need calm down. The neighbours are going to think you’re being murdered.” I told him through my giggles.

“Full story the second you’re back, you sly bitch.” I rolled my eyes and told him I already promised to give him all the details of my trip when I returned.

“I guess this is the part where I tell you he’s also my roommate, so you’ll be seeing a lot of him when we get back.” Taehyung wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to him.

“If it means being with you, I think I can deal with your very loud best friend.” He whispered before pulling me into another kiss.

The next morning, I woke up to Taehyung peppering my face in kisses, causing me to giggle and grab his face in my hands. “You keep missing.” I pouted and he wasted no time in kissing the pout right off my face.

“You ready to stir up some shit?” He asked as he stared into my eyes. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face as I nodded.

“With you, I’m ready for anything.” The two of us got up and started to get ready. He placed the gown he bought for me on the bed, and I let out an audible gasp. It was a gorgeous baby pink, floor length gown that hugged all the right curves. It was off the shoulders with lace detailing on the top and I truly felt like a million dollars as soon as I put it on. Taehyung helped zip me into it and I turned to get his reaction, my freshly curled hair flowing down my back.

“Wow.” He breathed out, placing his hands on my hips and bringing his face closer to mine. “If I didn’t make you mine yesterday, I definitely would have today.” He smiled before capturing my lips with his in a passionate kiss.

The two of us headed out to the venue. Despite the rehearsal dinner going perfectly, I couldn’t help but feel like something was going to go wrong. Taehyung ran his thumb over my knuckles as we sat in the first row, waiting for Chae-Eun to walk down the aisle. I could see Seokjin’s mom give me the stink eye from my peripherals, but I didn’t let it bother me. I wasn’t dating her son anymore, and Taehyung’s mom adored me when she met me the day before. Soon, the wedding march began, and we all stood to watch Chae-Eun walk down the aisle.

Taehyung subtly played with my fingers as the boring stuff began and I just quietly giggled to myself and tried to pay attention. Seeing Jin standing up there, dressed in his tux, holding hands with a girl in a wedding dress that wasn’t me, didn’t hurt me as much as I expected it to. Taehyung and I weren’t paying that much attention until I heard my name. My head whipped up towards the soon-to-be wed couple with wide eyes, and Jin stared right back at me, his eyes just as wide. Chae-Eun stood there, unsure of what to do and obviously trying to hold her tears back.

“Now this is excitement.” Taehyung whispered. I playfully slapped him, but he was right. This is exactly what we wanted, well not exactly this. I felt bad for Chae-Eun who seemed to truly love Kim Seokjin with her whole heart, and he just said someone else’s name right before they were to say I Do.

Hushed whispered erupted from the crowd the longer the couple just stood there in silence. “My sincerest apologies to everyone, and especially to Chae-Eun, my beautiful bride.” Jin finally spoke after minutes of silence. “I made a mistake 3 years ago, letting an amazing woman go due to social status. I haven’t seen her since that day, and she’s sitting in the crowd today and it caused a slip up. If it weren’t for her, Chae-Eun and I wouldn’t have met, and I wouldn’t have met the one I’m meant to be with. So, Chae-Eun, if you’ll still have me, I promise I’ll never make another mistake when it comes to loving you.” She looked to me and Taehyung before looking back to Jin. The venue was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“I can forgive you this time because I love you.” She finally answered with a small smile. The rest of the ceremony went off without hitch and it was time to head to the reception.

“I can’t believe that happened.” I said when we got into our car.

“I can. Have you seen you, Y/N? He definitely fucked up letting you go, but if he didn’t, we wouldn’t be here today.” I smiled at Taehyung, my heart swelling in contentment. “Do you think that’s hot enough tea for you friend?” He chuckled.

“Not hotter than our relationship.” I leaned in for a quick kiss before the two of us got out of the car and headed into the reception. The bride and groom were making their rounds, thanking everyone for coming. I had hoped they just wouldn’t approach us so we wouldn’t have to talk about Jin’s slip up.

“Y/N, Taehyung, thank you for coming.” Chae-Eun smiled and brought the two of us in for small hugs.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, Y/N.” Jin said, and I just shook my head.

“I’m just glad it worked out in the end. I’d feel terrible if that slip up ended your relationship. She’s really a keeper, Jin.” He smiled over to Chae-Eun and agreed with me.

“How come you two didn’t say anything about your previous relationship?” Chae-Eun asked, looking between the two of us.

“Well, I don’t know about Jin, but it’s kind of a sore spot for me. It’s not something I really talk about.” Jin scratched the back of his neck, something I learned over the years of loving him, he did when he was nervous.

“I said a lot of hurtful things. I really wasn’t myself back then, and I’m sorry.”

“No more apologies, Jin. You’re happy, and I am too. I’ve moved on and it may be weird that it’s your cousin, but he really does make me happy.” Taehyung wrapped his arm around my waist, bringing me closer to him and giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Chae-Eun, I really hope there’s no hard feelings. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other in the future, and I hope we can be friendly.” She smiled at me and nodded.

“We’ll exchange numbers later; we have more people to see. But I hope we can hang out.” I agreed, and the happy couple left to continue making their rounds.

“Did you ever think you’d become friends with your exes wife?” Taehyung chuckled in my ear before placing another kiss on my cheek.

“Almost as unbelievable as dating my exes cousin.”

“Just so you know, I’m not leaving you even if you ended up homeless.” I turned to face him completely and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Please know I’m not a gold digger.” I whispered, barely able to meet his eyes. He took his thumb and pointer finger and grabbed my chin to make my eyes meet his.

“I’d never think such a thing.” He whispered to me before closing the space between us in a passionate kiss that took my breath away.

#dream come true #bts #bts imagine #kim taehyung #kim taehyung imagine #jeon jungkook #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin

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ssa-babygirl · 4 years

Text

Out of My League [Part 2]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: 4.5k (ohohohoho i went OVERBOARD with the dialogue here I am sorry for all the useless exposition)

Summary: Most things have changed in the last 10 years, but it’s safe to say that a few things stayed exactly the same. Mixed POV

Warning(s): Mentions of past bullying, mentions of cheating, mentions of kidnapping, general criminal minds stuff, cursing, VERY VERY BRIEF MENTION of a miscarriage and leukemia like it’s one sentence and that’s all

Author’s Note: The moment yall have been waiting for! They grow up so fast!! I’m going on a quick trip this week and then heading back to school a few days later, so the next part may take a little longer, but I’m super excited to write it!!

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

Las Vegas, Nevada, 2004

(Spencer’s POV)

My first case out on the field was not a pleasant one. Well, it rarely is, that’s what happens when you work for the FBI to catch serial killers. For the first couple of weeks at the BAU, I helped them consult on cases, but they weren’t sure I was ready to go out on the field with them. After I got my weapon certification, Gideon told me he wanted me to come along on the next case because I was familiar with the area. There had been a series of child abductions near Vegas, my hometown. I would have been much more nervous about traveling had I not been able to see my mom while I was there. I hadn’t visited her in a while and the guilt was gnawing at me.

The first day was brutal. Hotch made some of us go back to the hotel late at night, but it was hard for us to sleep. JJ hated working cases about children, so she went to have a quick drink at the hotel bar, where she promptly forgot her purse and had to call me from her room to go get it for her. I had no hope of getting any rest that night, so I figured I’d take a walk down the hall and try to clear my head.

There was no sign of the purse at first glance, no small black clutch on the bar like JJ said. But there was a woman cleaning glasses behind the counter, maybe she knew where the purse was.

As I approached the bar, the woman’s features took a familiar shape and triggered a distant memory. Seeing her face again was like coming home after a long drive without a map, squinting through the dark and hoping the headlights would get brighter when finally, you’re pulling onto a road that you know by heart.

I didn’t need to look at her nametag, I already knew who she was, but judging by her polite smile borne solely out of the courtesy required to work in the service industry, she didn’t recognize me. In her defense, I had grown about a foot and a half since the last time she saw me. And I got a freaking haircut.

“Y-Y/N?”

She looked up from her rags and scrunched up her face in confusion.

“Okay, so you definitely know me, and I am so sorry about this, but I can’t quite place it. You look so familiar, though, I just… I meet a lot of people with this job, I’m so sorry, I forgot your name.”

I grinned, she still had that same habit of apologizing every five seconds, “I don’t really have that problem, eidetic memory and all.”

Her eyes widened, “Spencer? Spencer Reid!”

I laughed and nodded.

“You’re so tall now! What has it been, like, 10 years? Oh my goodness, come here.” She awkwardly leaned over the bar and hugged me. She still used the same shampoo.

“How ya been, kid?”

“I’m good! H-How are you?”

“Doing fine, thanks. What brings you back to good ol’ Sin City?”

“I’m here for work.”

“Oh, and what are you doing now?” She leaned on the counter and gazed up with curious eyes, “Helping the doctors at Area 51?”

Good to know she still had jokes, “No actually, I’m with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”

“Woah, you’re a fed now?”

“Yeah, we’re investigating a series of--”

“Kidnappings. Yeah. Scary shit. Can I get you a drink?”

“No, I’m good.”

“You close to catching the guy?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Any of the kids turn up?”

“Unfortunately, yes. We found one boy this morning. He… didn’t make it.”

Her face dropped to a look of worry I hadn’t seen since she took off my blindfold that day on the football field, “Name. I need a name,” her voice grew hoarse.

“I can’t really disclose that information.”

“Spencer, please. Every day my kid comes home from school and asks me if I was watching the news.”

I couldn’t deny the way my heart sank at the news, but I could sure as hell ignore it, “Y-You have kids?”

“One. Little Jamie. His best friend, Robbie, is missing.” Robbie Carter, age five, he’s been missing for the past two weeks. He’s likely dead, but we still haven’t found him.

“Every time someone misses school he gets scared they got taken too. Baby Boy doesn’t understand flu season yet.”

“How old is he?” I had to get her mind off of this. I don’t want to worry her.

“Five. Just started kindergarten. Wanna see a picture?” Seems like I succeeded.

“Sure.”

She whipped out her phone and pulled up a picture of Jamie on his first day of school, backpack far too big for his body. Y/N was posed next to him, the picture too small to show that she was crying ever so slightly.

“Adorable, right?”

I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face, “Cute kid. Looks just like you.”

She looked back at the photo and smiled softly, “Except the eyes. He’s got his dad’s eyes.”

I glanced down at her hand holding the phone and was greeted with a pleasant surprise, “I’m guessing Jamie’s dad isn’t in the picture?”

Offense flickered across her features for a second, her eyebrows twitching and lips pursing, “How’d you know?”

“No ring.”

“You do work for the FBI.”

“Would you mind telling me what happened?”

“You know, you’re supposed to be the one spilling your sorrows to the bartender, not the other way around.”

“You don’t have to tell me, just thought we could catch up, I haven’t seen you in ten years.”

She sighed, returning her phone to the front pocket in her apron, “Remember Kyle Brothers?”

“Oh, do I? Yeah, of course, I remember your high school boyfriend, Y/N. What tipped you off, the eidetic memory, or the fact he used to beat me up after gym class?” It was more like the intense rage and jealousy I had when they got back together after football season ended.

“God, see, I always knew he was an asshole, but it never seemed to faze me, I’m so sorry about that.”

“You did what you could. And you apologize too much.”

“Sor--”

She froze mid-word and made a face as she realized once again that she was about to apologize yet again. I stifled a chuckle, but she laughed and grabbed a rag from the counter to finish cleaning the glasses.

“So Kyle?”

“Yes, Kyle. We broke up again before college, I was going out of state and didn’t wanna do long distance, you know all that. I was in a really bad place during my senior year of college, so after graduation, I decided to move back home for a bit, spend some time with my mom--”

“How is she?”

“She’s great! Moved to D.C. with my dad a while back.”

“I should visit her, Quantico isn’t far.”

She returned a genuine smile, “She would love that.”

“Sorry I interrupted you, keep going.”

“You’re fine. Long story short, moving back home for a few months turned into having a one night stand with my ex. Which turned into us getting engaged nine months later while I’m exhausted and holding my son.”

“Well, that’s a fun birth story for Jamie.”

“Yeah, ‘Happy Birthday, sweetie, your father proposed to me while you were, like, an hour old and then cheated on me six months later.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep.” She popped the p, “Came home and heard two things: Jamie fussing in his sleep from the playpen and bedsprings squeaking in our room.”

“I’m guessing that you guys were done for good after that?”

“Nice detective work.”

“Technically, I’m a profiler, not a detective, as they typically work in local police departments and I work for the federal government, not a precinct--”

“Jesus, kid, you’re gonna put the poor lil lady to sleep,” I turned around and saw Morgan crossing the lobby to the bar, still in his work clothes.

“If I'm yawning it’s from my double shift, not his rambling. It’s been a while since I heard a good Spencer Reid knowledge dump.”

“You two know each other?” He leaned on the bar and I could sense him turning on the classic Derek Morgan charm.

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Uh, Y/N, this is SSA Derek Morgan, we work together, Morgan, this is Y/N L/N, we went to high school together.” The “I had a huge crush on her” was silent.

“Nice to meet you, doll,” he reached out a hand to shake yours. His eyes lingered on you for a bit too long, and I recognized the look in her eyes from the way she talked to Kyle in the halls before our study sessions, and I didn’t like any of that one bit.

Derek turned back to me, “JJ sent you down here a while ago, she’s looking for you.”

I glanced at Y/N and tried to hide the cocktail of emotions in my mind, “I guess I just lost track of time.”

He probably caught onto something because his regular teasing smirk flashed on across his face, “You guess, sure, loverboy, I’ll be in our room. Nice meeting you, Y/N.” He left and she waved, watching him as he left.

“JJ?” She asked, turning back to me.

“Coworker of mine, she left her purse down here and sent me to get it for her.”

“Oh, Blondie from earlier?”

“Yeah.”

“She seemed nice. So pretty!” She reached below the bar and pulled out the small black purse that was left behind about an hour before, holding it up to me and cocking an eyebrow.

“Yep.”

“How long have you two been working together? Long enough to be more than coworkers?”

I laughed uncomfortably, “Uh, n-no, actually this is actually my first case on the field, before this I only really helped the team consult on cases, but this one was urgent and I wanted to visit my mom so they brought me along.”

“Well, send Diana my love.”

“Of course. And if you hear anything from Jamie about another missing kid, give us a call.” I reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, sliding it to her and leaving with a sympathetic smile, wishing I could say more.

(Reader POV)

About a week after you ran into Spencer, you were closely following the story as it unfolded on the news. Another kid had gone missing, the second in two weeks. His name was Drew Olson, he was a year older than Jamie. They didn’t find a body yet, so there was still hope. Robbie hadn’t turned up either, which was the best news you had about him. No other bodies have shown up yet, and the cause of death for the boy they found was starvation, so the guy probably didn’t want to hurt these kids.

Regardless of whether or not the situation was actually dangerous, the school still increased security, since two of the victims were students. The pickup line was heavily monitored by teachers and faculty to make sure all students went home with their parents. You had gotten there a bit later than usual, forcing you to the back of the crowd where you couldn’t see the kids as they came out of the building.

When you finally got up towards the front, there were only a handful of kids left.

And Jamie wasn’t one of them.

Panic started to twist your stomach into knots, but the rational part of your brain clawed at the inside of your skull saying he was just inside, he was waiting in a classroom, he was safe.

You pushed through to the teacher that was keeping track of names on her clipboard. She was younger, just about your age, and wore wire-framed glasses that complimented her dark braids. She gave a warm smile and asked for your child’s name.

“Brothers, Jamie Brothers.”

“Alrighty, let’s see--” she paused as her finger stopped over a name highlighted by a bright green, indicating that the child had been picked up: Jamie Brothers.

“He’s not here.”

“What? What do you mean he’s not here?” The part of your brain that said he was safe fucked right off and left you a shaking mess on the pavement. The teacher reached an arm out and held you by the elbow as your knees buckled beneath you. Other parents’ attention was suddenly directed towards you.

“Ma’am, the sheet says he was picked up already.”

“But by who? Not me! So who the hell took my son?” All eyes were on you as you didn’t even bother to control the volume of your voice.

“Mrs. Brothers, please remain calm, I’m sure there’s been a mistake, I can send someone in to find him inside the school.”

“Please…” You whimpered, unable to find your breath.

...Give us a call…

Spencer’s words echoed in your mind and you knew what you had to do, so you scrambled through your bag for the card you were given the week before. You frantically cursed under your breath as you searched for your wallet. You finally found it, taking it out with your phone so you could call the number on the card. It rang once, twice, three times before an unfamiliar voice crackled through on the other side.

“Agent Hotchner.”

“Are you with the FBI?”

“...Yes, who is this?”

“My name is Y/N L/N, Spencer Reid gave me this number if I knew anything.”

“Do you have information regarding the recent abductions?”

“My son’s been taken.” You could feel the lump in your throat nearly restricting any words from coming out.

“Hold on, ma’am, where are you?”

“I’m at the school, he’s not here. I came to get him and he’s not here, I don’t know what to do!”

“Miss L/N, stay put, we’re on our way.” The call ended with a click and suddenly the world went quiet. There was nothing but the rush of blood pounding in your ears. All you could do was stare blankly at nothing in particular as the phone fell from your hand, hitting the pavement, your knees following quickly behind. You felt the bruises on impact, but you couldn’t care less about how much pain you were in, not when you felt this numb. Your pain didn’t matter anymore, all that mattered was that Jamie was missing and you were powerless to help. The remaining parents surrounded you, all clutching the shoulders of their children, their safe children, the ones they didn’t have to call the fucking FBI to pick up from school today.

When your brain was able to process information again, you noticed the school parking lot had filled with police cars, including two large black SUVs. You squinted through the inappropriately bright sunlight and the bitter tears in your eyes to see a tall man in a dark suit approach you. Behind him, a scrawny young man in a plaid buttondown was following closely.

You recognized him right away this time.

“Spencer,” your voice was barely a whisper as you attempted to stand on your shaking legs. You looked straight past the man in the suit and scrambled over to him. Before you could even reach him, his arms were stretched out to you, enveloping you in a tight hug as soon as you were close enough.

Your heart had to be beating out of your chest, and you were sure he felt it against him. The tears running down your cheeks stained his shirt, soaking him to the skin as he cradled your head against his chest, trying to do whatever he could to make you feel safe again, no matter how scared he was.

The man in the suit was now joined by an older man in a brown jacket and the man you met at the bar the other night, Derek, you think his name was. The suit turned to you and Spencer and introduced himself as Agent Hotchner, the man you spoke to on the phone. He asked you to describe what happened when you arrived, if you saw anyone who looked out of place, if you saw evidence of a struggle. Spencer’s arms never left your frame the whole time you spoke.

“Thank you very much, Miss L/N, I promise we’ll find your son, we have time on our side. Reid, stay with her in the meantime, Morgan, go question the parents, Gideon and I will talk to the monitors and see if they knew who picked Jamie was picked up by.”

“Yes, sir.”

All the men left to complete their tasks except for Spencer, who was supposed to stay put with you. The second you were alone with him once again, your face returned to the spot on his dampened shirt where it had previously been. One of his hands was planted firmly on your upper back, the other stroking your hair between his fingers.

It’s strange, really. Last time you saw him he was just a kid. A brilliant, sweet, small kid. The kid who’s hair you’d fuck with. The kid you held after his bullies hurt him. Then you don’t see him for over a decade and suddenly the roles are reversed. He was tall enough to rest his chin on your head now, which you had mixed feelings about, but you couldn’t deny it calmed you down. Almost as much as his quick yet steady heartbeat drumming right in your ear. The kid was still skinny, but his hugs were still warm.

“You’re alright, we’re gonna find him,” he whispered into your hair, but you had a feeling those words weren’t only for you. After a few minutes, the three other agents returned to where you and Spencer stood, alerting the two of you that the team would be heading back to the police station where you were welcome to wait with them. Derek figured you were too shaken to drive yourself, so he offered to let you ride along with him and Spencer in the SUV, which you did not hesitate to accept.

Once at the station, you were greeted by the blonde from the bar. What was her name again?

“Jennifer Jareau, I’m the press liaison for the team. You can call me JJ.”

She sat with you while Spencer worked with the others on the case. You wanted to be updated whenever progress was made, but she told you that wasn’t totally possible. Regardless of how against the rules it was, she still gave you the profile. The unsub likely worked with children and knew them and faculty well enough to enter the building and take the kids without being noticed. They may be a parent going through a loss, as no evidence of sexual assault or any physical violence was found on the only body save for light ligature marks on the wrists. Due to the relatively nonviolent nature of the crime, the unsub could be a woman. They likely live alone since they are keeping several young boys in their home. Although this likely wasn’t the work of a pedophile, a trafficking ring could not be ruled out yet.

You suddenly understood why the victims’ families aren’t supposed to know the profile. You thought it would make you feel better, but it only made you feel worse. JJ opened up another box of tissues for you, got you water, and offered you snacks, but there was no way you could get anything down. Every sound, every person that passed the window, every buzz of JJ’s phone sent your stomach plummeting down a death drop. You had just calmed yourself down from yet another panic attack when you saw agents strapping on kevlar vests and putting their guns into their holsters.

They knew where the kids were.

(Spencer’s POV)

I wasn’t allowed to see her before we left. I couldn’t tell her where I was going, I couldn’t tell her that Jamie would be okay, I couldn’t tell her anything. I barely spoke to her since we got back to the station, and that was hours ago. Now I-- we just have to leave her there again.

This was my first time going out on the field in this capacity. I’d never had to step out of that SUV with my gun out, ready to shoot anyone who threatened the lives of my team or any hostages they may have. I’d never had to strap on a kevlar vest and worry about the potential bruises that may be left behind by being hit with bullets. I’d never had to worry about not coming back before.

“Don’t be worried. If your hands shake you won’t get a clear shot,” Gideon reminded me in the car, as if I’d be able to get a clear shot with a steady hand anyway.

The unsub was a woman named Harriet Yanonovich. According to hospital records pulled by Garcia, our new tech analyst, her son had recently passed after a short and sudden battle against leukemia. This came shortly after Harriet had a miscarriage that triggered a chemical imbalance, degrading her mental health, which resulted in the trigger, losing her job at the elementary school that the boys had each been taken from. I would have felt bad for her if she hadn’t taken my friend’s son away from her.

But she did, and now I just have to hope she didn’t hurt him.

We arrived at Harriet’s house fairly quickly. Hotch sent Morgan and me around the back, he and Gideon would take the front. As we rounded the back of the house, we discovered that she had a storm cellar under her deck. The doors were closed with a heavy padlock. Morgan aimed his gun to shoot it off the chain.

“Don’t do that. The bullet would ricochet and hit you in the knee.”

He lowered his weapon, “You got a better idea, pretty boy?”

“Yes, actually.” I quietly crept onto the deck, lifting the welcome mat from in front of the sliding glass door into the absolute wreck of a kitchen. Under the mat was a simple looking key.

“She’s a school teacher going through a depressive episode, not a criminal mastermind.”

“Alright then, genius,” he rolled his eyes, “Let’s see if it even works.”

I inserted the key into the lock, hearing a click and turning it with little difficulty. The shackle popped open. I gently removed it from the chains, trying my hardest not to make any noise that would alarm anyone in the cellar. Unwrapping the chains from the handles, I turned back to face Morgan.

“I accept your apology.” I attempted to muster my smuggest smile, but it was hard to mask the dread and worry on my face.

“Yeah, yeah, open up.”

He grabbed one handle and I grabbed the other, sliding the metal doors open and revealing a staircase into a shadowy basement.

“You first.” Morgan nudged my shoulder.

“What? No way! Morgan, this is serious!”

“So go! It’s your girl’s kid!”

He was right. Not about Y/N being my girl, because she wasn’t (though the thought did briefly replace the anxiety in my heart with pure light that I hadn’t felt since I was twelve), but I was still doing this for her. This case wasn’t just a job for me. This was for Y/N. For Jamie. Y/N deserves to see her son again, I owe her that much.

Derek would learn about my fear of the dark much later, but from how fast I jumped down those stairs into that cellar, he’d never been able to tell.

Against the farthest wall, there were four young boys all curled up in a corner. From the limited light, I could see they were all covered in varying levels of filth, the cleanest boy baring the face I had seen on Y/N’s phone screen. The boys all looked terrified, the two dirtiest looking thin and weak against the ties that bound them to a water pipe. I called up to Morgan to come down and lowered my gun.

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI, I’m here to help you guys, okay?” The boys all nodded. Morgan helped me untie their wrists.

“Do you know where Mrs. Yanonovich went?”

“She said she was going upstairs, and that we have to be good or else we wouldn’t get any supper,” Jamie piped up.

“How long you been down here, kid?” Morgan asked.

Jamie shrugged, “Couple hours.”

“Did she hurt any of you?” The kids all shook their heads no.

Hotch’s voice crackled over the radio, “We have her in custody, any sign of the kids?”

“Yep, we found them in the cellar. All are alive, but we may need a medic on standby at the station for some of them.”

“Are they hurt?”

“No, just malnourished. Definitely dehydrated.”

Morgan and I led the kids out to the surface, the setting sun creating a glare off of the tin cellar doors. We were greeted by Gideon and police rounding the corner to the backyard. The kids ran out the gate towards the police cars, eager to be home soon.

(Reader POV)

“Okay, I’ll let them know.” JJ hung up and turned back to you, a relieved smile gracing her face. You stood up, desperate to hear the news she had.

“They found the kids, Jamie’s safe.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from lunging at the woman you barely knew, wrapping her in a bear hug as delighted laughs left your lungs. You felt tears of pure relief drip down your cheeks as she squeezed you back, also letting out a deep sigh.

You waited impatiently in the bullpen, anxious to see Jamie unharmed and to give the team your gratitude. When they finally arrived, you saw your son walking hand-in-hand with Spencer and the older agent you believed was named Gideon. Spencer pointed over to you with his free hand and smiled, causing Jamie to drop their hands and sprint into your arms crying “Mommy! Mommy!” You immediately lifted him up and covered his face with kisses. The two of you held onto one another so tight, you were surprised either of you could breathe. Spencer came over to you, smiling with eyes you couldn’t quite recognize.

“Thank you, Spencer.”

“No need, Y/N. I’m glad I could help. I just wish I could have met Jamie here on better terms!”

You adjusted your hold on Jaime to free one hand, stretching it out for Spencer to take it in his own. You squeezed it gently, smiling into those hazel eyes that had somehow never looked warmer before, despite the deep shadows under them.

“Thank you.”

His pursed lips twitched slightly and you noticed the tears brimming his sunken eyes. The poor boy needed sleep and a lot of it soon. He squeezed your hand back, sending shockwaves up your arms straight to your heart, which hadn’t felt this light since you were seventeen years old.

Taglist~~~

Lmk if you wanna be added! Some names didn’t work so if you don’t see your name as a tag just dm me a url and I’ll try to fix it

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @baby-pogue @rottenearly @confused-and-really-hungry @thatsonezesty13 @deni-gonzalez @irjuejjsaa @randomfandomshitposts @bisoner @moonstarrnghtsky @smurfflynn @eldahae @t0xicllama @undeniablyyou @staplernpaper

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writinglizards · 3 years

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I’m Kinda Helpless (and I Need You)

Summary: It's not anyone else's fault he fell in love with a witcher who decided he wants nothing to do with him. They're here to have fun. He can pretend to do that, for a little while.

Jaskier, at a New Year's party, gets a terrifying call from a certain witcher.

Read on Ao3

"Come on, Jask," Priscilla's saying, tugging him out of the kitchen and away from the alcohol table, "we brought you here to enjoy yourself, not drink yourself stupid. You could do that at home."

"This is only my fourth drink, Pri," he whines, spinning the mostly empty wine glass in his hands absently as Priscilla continues to lead him through the densely packed crowd to where Essi's chatting with..."Valdo," Jaskier hisses.

"Jaskier," Valdo returns, smile bright. Jaskier scowls harder and both Essi and Priscilla roll their eyes.

"Play nice, boys," Essi chastises before catching her girlfriend around the waist and reeling her in to press a kiss to her cheek.

"Just like college," Pri laughs, looping the arm not wound around Essi around Jaskier's neck and dragging him in with her. Valdo watches with an indulgent smile and Jaskier finds he doesn't even hate him, much. It's frustrating.

He forces a smile and tries not to let his sour mood drag the rest of them down with him. It's not anyone else's fault he fell in love with a witcher who decided he wants nothing to do with him. They're here to have fun. He can pretend to do that, for a little while.

They chat for a little before Essi gets dragged off by another acquaintance, Priscilla following, and then it's just Jaskier and Valdo.

"Heard you've had a rough go of it, lately," Valdo says as they stand shoulder to shoulder, staring out across the room. Jaskier doesn't know most of the people here; a few years ago that would have been exciting, now he wishes he'd stayed home, just a little. He lifts his shoulder in a one-sided shrug, sips from his wine glass. There's no point lying to Valdo.

"I'm...sorry for that, Julian, truly. You deserve someone who loves you, who makes you happy." His fingers tighten on the stem of the glass.

"And who's that, hm? You?" He can't help but say, words sharp like a knife. Valdo winces.

"Once upon a time, maybe," he sighs. It's quiet for a beat, "I still want the best for you, though." Jaskier lets out a gust of breath. He may not love the man anymore, may have never loved him, really, but--

"I know," he says, bumps their shoulders together gently, "thank you, Valdo."

"Anytime, Julian." It's soft and subdued, private and just for them. "Come find me before the countdown, yeah? For...old time's sake." It sounds like a resounding bad idea, but...

"I'll think about it," Jaskier says softly.

Valdo makes a satisfied noise and bumps their shoulders together again, gently, before he's stepping away, "Well, better make the rounds. See you in a bit, maybe," and then he's gone too, leaving Jaskier standing at the edge of the party.

He stays there only a moment. It's...a lot. The press of bodies, people chatting, the low thrum of music. This kind of thing used to be his scene, where he thrived. Now he just...he just wants Geralt and that hurts, Geralt wanted him gone, said "if life could give me one blessing" and well. Jaskier's trying, he really is it's just...hard.

He slips out the back door and onto the terrace off the back of the house. It's just for some air, he tells himself, he's not...not running away. He just needs a minute to breathe.

From here he can see the street through the cute little metal gate, the pass of cars and the occasional pedestrian. It's a rich side of town, one he rarely visits any longer. He doesn't even know the host, a friend of Priscilla's, someone she works with. He feels out of place. This is a far cry from the dingy diners, the 24-hour gas stations he's used to frequenting at this point. Or well. Had frequented, he guesses. He hasn't been much of anywhere since...before.

He leans against the little railing and tugs out his phone to check the time and then just...stares. He hadn't been able to bring himself to change his lock screen yet, a photo of the two of them, squeezed into a booth at some little coffee shop whose name he can't remember. Jaskier's smiling, bright and electric and Geralt's...not, but his eyes are crinkled at the corners, just a little, and he looks...he looks...

His chest heaves a nearly sobbing breath as he lets the screen go dark. He's maybe had a few too many drinks, but he's not going to cry about it, about him. It doesn't matter how happy he looks in the photos on Jaskier's phone. Geralt doesn't want anything to do with him, not anymore.

He's still wallowing in self-pity when his phone rings, vibrating intensely in his hand. No caller ID pops up, but Jaskier answers anyway. It's just as likely to be Essi calling from someone else's phone because hers has died as it is to be Geralt calling from a new burner phone. Except--

"Jaskier?"

His voice is rough and beautiful and tight with pain and Jaskier's heart stutters. His throat works, but no sound comes out.

"Jaskier, please, I--"

"Geralt," he forces out, his own voice hoarse. "Geralt, what--"

"Please," he continues, steamrolling right over Jaskier's quiet protest, "I need you to know I...fuck," it's a tiny noise of pain. Jaskier's chest clenches, "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve any of it." His voice is faint.

"Geralt, where are you, what's wrong?"

"I'm...fine." It's not reassuring.

"Geralt, where are you," he's starting to panic, a little, "I'll call Yen, I'm sure she'll--"

Geralt laughs, sharp and sardonic, a noise that cuts off quickly on a wheeze. "Yen's the last person I'd call, Jask." The diminutive does something painful to him. He can feel the tears slipping down his cheeks as he rubs at his eyes with the heel of his hand, frustrated.

"Still. Where are you?"

"Do you remember that diner on third street?" Geralt asks, voice a little hazy, a little too soft as Jaskier pushes back through the house. He needs to find Essi or Pricilla, someone who can drive him--"the one where...ah...where you order the--the milkshakes?"

"I do," he says. He can't find his friends, but he catches Valdo's eye across the room and something in his expression must be especially concerning because Valdo's already bowing out of the conversation and making his way over.

"I'm...I left Roach there," he says just as Valdo approaches, mouths "what's wrong" at him.

"Okay, and where are you?" Jaskier asks, holding a single finger up to Valdo who nods.

"I--" a harsh, painful breath, "--was checking out the warehouse two streets over. Bruxa nest."

"Okay. Okay, just--Valdo, do you have your car?" Valdo blinks at him, a little wide-eyed. Geralt makes a strangled noise on the other end of the line.

"Jaskier, you've had too much to drive," he says, which means he does.

Jaskier makes an ungodly sound at the same time Geralt asks "Jask, where are you?"

"Will you drive me, then?" Valdo's had...maybe half a glass all night--he's still carrying around the rum and coke he had when they'd talked earlier, untouched.

Valdo gives him a hard look, and Jaskier thinks maybe he won't before, "Yeah. Let me grab my coat, I'll meet you out front in a minute."

"Thank you, Val," he says, nearly choking on the wave of emotion that hits him, the gratitude he feels for this man he used to love. "Geralt, we'll be there in a few minutes, okay?"

"Mm," the mumbled little response over the line isn't reassuring.

"How close to the warehouse are you still, love?" The endearment slips out without a thought, and Geralt sucks in a sharp breath. Jaskier winces hard.

"'M...down the street." He's quiet for a long moment where Jaskier worries he's passed out on him. "Sorry to ruin your night out."

"Geralt, you're not ruining anything for me." He shifts from foot to foot on the stoop out front, waiting for Valdo to emerge. "How bad is it?" Geralt's silent for too long. "Geralt?"

"Uh," Jaskier can tell from the tone he's making a face, "few busted ribs. I'm..." a soft sigh, "losing a lot of blood." His voice is faint, still.

"How much is a lot, Geralt?" Valdo steps out the door and ushers Jaskier over to his car.

"Where are we going?" he asks as he slips into the driver's seat, Jaskier already fumbling for his seatbelt.

"It's...I may not..."

"Geralt."

"It's not your fault, Jask." A feeling like ice washes through him.

"Are you out of swallow or what?" he asks, trying not to snap at him. Valdo's sitting patiently while he waits for directions, only the tapping of his fingers on the steering wheel giving away his nerves.

"It's...I didn't bring it." Jaskier makes another ugly noise.

"The diner on third street," he tells Valdo who nods and shifts the car into gear, backing up. "it is in your car, yes?" he asks Geralt.

"...Yeah," he breathes. Jaskier just listens to the slow rasp of Geralt's breathing, eyes closed. He doesn't ask why Geralt didn't bring any with him, doesn't want to hear the answer, probably. "It's not your fault," Geralt repeats softly, and Jaskier can't help the little hiccuping sob, even as he presses a fist to his mouth to stifle it. Valdo stares out of the corner of his eye but doesn't say anything, which he's thankful for.

"If you die, I'll never forgive you, witcher." Geralt gives a huff over the phone, something like a laugh. "Don't hang up, okay?"

"Okay," he says. They lapse into silence, Jaskier occasionally giving updates on where they're at in relation to the diner, Geralt making vague noises of acknowledgment. When they hit the parking lot of the diner, Jaskier's out the door before Valdo's even parked. Roach is a few stalls away and Jaskier jogs over, fumbling his spare key Geralt hadn't taken back out of his pocket and unlocking it diving into the passenger seat, phone still pressed to his ear.

"I'm with Roach, Geralt, we're maybe five minutes away, okay?" Geralt doesn't respond, and something tightens in Jaskier's chest. With shaking fingers he digs through the floorboard and finds the little pouch of potions tucked in next to the steel sword and his sharpening kit in the foot of the passenger seat. He pulls the whole little bag out and locks the car door before slamming it closed behind him, a little too hard.

He slides back into the passenger seat of Valdo's car a few moments later, the pouch in his lap.

"Where to?"

"Try Fletcher. He's down by the warehouses." Valdo nods and backs out of the stall again. "Geralt?"

There's a rough noise over the line, but no indication Geralt's conscious. Fuck.

They turn onto Fletcher and Valdo drives slowly. It's dark and most people are either at home or at New Year’s parties, not hanging around the industrial district, so it's easy to spot the figure slumped over against a brick wall, pale hair hiding his face.

"Valdo--" he starts, but he's already seen him, and he hits the breaks. Jaskier's out of the car like a shot, potion bag tucked under his arm. He nearly trips over the sidewalk, barely catching himself at the last moment as he stumbles to a stop, hitting his knees beside Geralt hard.

"Geralt, love," he breathes, but it doesn't matter that his heart is pouring out his mouth--Geralt's out cold, phone cradled in his lap but not hung up, just like Jaskier asked. "Fuck."

He can see he's torn up--there's blood all over his armor and pooling on the sidewalk beneath him. He's got a hand pressed loosely over his side and his breathing's shallow. Jaskier fumbles a bottle of swallow out of the pouch and uncorks it.

"Please don't be too late," he whispers, careful fingers tipping Geralt's head up and coaxing his jaw open so he can pour the contents down his throat. Geralt sputters, but swallows, throat working, and Jaskier sits nearly in his lap, face cradled in his hands and fingers brushing his pulse point. Slowly, Jaskier watches as the wound on his side clots and knits together, feels the way his pulse, slow as always, strengthens ever so slightly, and Jaskier sighs, tips forward to press his forehead to Geralt's bloody shoulder as the adrenaline leaves him all at once. He'll be fine.

He sits there for a long moment, just letting the panic fizzle out. The footsteps behind him tell him Valdo's finally parked the car.

"Is he--"

"He'll be fine," Jaskier says, pulling back to stare at Geralt's prone form. His breathing is strengthening, the ribs beginning to knit back together now that the source of the blood loss has been dealt with. "Thank you, Val."

"Should we, uh, move him or something?" Valdo asks, the same moment Geralt groans and blinks open his eyes. "Oh, I'll...um. I'll wait in the car if...if you need me." He ducks his head and retreats to where he parked on the sidewalk a few paces away, giving them some privacy.

"You're here." Geralt's voice, usually gravel rough, is somehow deeper, more jagged, with the remnants of the potion.

"Did you think I wouldn't be?" Jaskier asks. He realizes he's still kneeling over Geralt, palms cupping his jaw and throat. Geralt's eyes flutter closed again, tired.

"I don't deserve it."

Jaskier's chest aches, sharp and painful. "Maybe not," he whispers, "but here I am." Geralt's breath stutters and he rotates out of Jaskier's grip to cough, a deep, rattling sound that makes Jaskier wince.

"I'm sorry I ruined your date," Geralt grinds out when his breathing settles, collapsing back against the wall again. Jaskier frowns.

"Why would I--?"

Geralt doesn't let him finish, "He looks...good. For you. I'm. I hope he makes you happy, Jask." Geralt's expression is guarded and it's...that's not...

"Geralt," Jaskier says slowly, "That's Valdo Marx. We're not dating. You did not interrupt a date. I was at a party."

"You're not...?" he starts, brows pinched, and Jaskier wants to hit something.

"Geralt. I'm--I'm not dating anyone. I. I can't." No one could ever make me as happy as you, he thinks but doesn't say.

Geralt makes a soft, unhappy sound, "Why?" At some point, his hands have landed on Jaskier's waist. Now he rubs gentle thumbs against the swell of Jaskier's hip bones in a movement that is more distracting than it has any right to be.

"Because I love you, you dolt," Jaskier chokes out, unable to hold down the swell of emotion at the confusion on Geralt's face, "and I know you said you didn't want to see me again and I--"

"Jask," Geralt stops him, a hand rising to cup his cheek, "you shouldn't."

"I know. I know, and I do anyway and I. I'm sorry, but--"

"I shouldn't have pushed you away," Geralt says, eyes bright with something Jaskier can't name. There's a thundering sound of cheers, distant this deep into the industrial part of the city. Midnight. New Years. "I love you, Jask, I'm sorry."

He tips forward to kiss him, and Geralt surges up to meet him, hands tangling in his hair. It's like breathing fresh air for the first time in years, like the first trip out of the city looking for a forktail, like every time Jaskier's patched him up, every time they've gotten coffee together at three am, every time Geralt's bought him a meal at a diner after midnight. The kiss breaks, but they don't move away, foreheads pressed together.

"I'm sorry," Geralt repeats, eyes closed.

"So am I," Jaskier whispers back, "I've been a right bastard myself, on occasion.” Geralt huffs a laugh, something soft and intimate. Jaskier cards his fingers through his hair, gentle.

"Stay with me?" He asks, and that's--

"Yeah," Jaskier says, presses another kiss to his mouth, slow and sweet, "let me go tell Valdo I'm walking you to your car and he can go. Then you can take me home and we'll crash at my place, okay?"

"Okay," Geralt breathes, reluctantly letting go so Jaskier can stand. He stares at him a moment, bloody and bruised and so very, very beautiful, and then he's pulling himself away, back to Valdo and his car.

"He's okay?" Valdo asks, rolling his window down when Jaskier gets close.

"Yeah, I'm--"

"Are you okay?" he continues, gaze intense and--

"Yeah," he sighs, "yeah, we're okay. I'm. He makes me happy, Val." Valdo's expression softens, something relieved in his eyes.

"Good. I'm glad, Julian. Does he need a ride back to his car?" Jaskier turns to follow Valdo's gaze, sees how Geralt fidgets at the edge of the sidewalk, impatient.

"No. We'll walk back. Thanks for the ride. I'm. Really very thankful."

"I know." His smile is radiant. "Don't be a stranger, Julian." Jaskier makes a face, which only makes Valdo smile wider. "See you around."

The car pulls away when Jaskier steps back onto the sidewalk. Geralt winds his arms around Jaskier's waist when he gets close enough, pulls him into another slow, thorough kiss that sets his nerves alight. They break reluctantly, Jaskier's hand on Geralt's face.

"Come on, love, let’s get you home."

It's been weeks since Jaskier's been this close to Geralt, weeks since they talked, since they touched.

"You're here," Geralt rumbles, a quiet sound, "I'm already home." And that's--Jaskier has to clear his throat not to cry.

"Happy New Year, Geralt." Geralt’s expression is soft, fond as they start the walk back to Roach. He slips his hand into Jaskier's, threads their fingers together and brings the back of his hand to his lips in a gentle kiss.

"Yes," he says, "it is."

#witcher #witcher fic #geraskier #lizard writes #rating: teen #this is just an excuse for hurt/comfort and soft things

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

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TMT One-Shot

F/M Pairing: Y/N x 3racha (Stray Kids)

Word Count: 8K

Genre: High School AU

Warnings: Lots of smut and language; mentions of alcohol

Summary: Y/N is the shy, awkward girl who can’t talk to boys while doing her best to exist as a shadow throughout her high school life. Her two brothers, Minho and Felix, are the complete opposite. Minho is the cool, suave music addict who wants to be in his own band one day, while Felix is the stereotypical popular kid whose best friend, Han Jisung, tirelessly trails after his friend’s older sister. However, despite their differences, the three siblings share a very close relationship and Y/N considers them to be her only real friends.

One day, Minho brings home two classmates from his community college and Y/N realizes, for the very first time, that the sweet taste of desire is highly addictive.

When my mother died, I was only 10-years-old. She slipped away like a ghost, quietly and without notice, and I was left feeling broken on the inside. If I was a therapist, unlike the contemptuous older woman who always spoke to me with a condescending tone, I’d likely attribute the traumatic event to the person I started to become.

Instead of bouncing back from her death like my brothers Minho and Felix, I started to feel sad all the time. Accordingly, I lost many of the friends I met in Elementary school because I chose to sit quietly in my classes when I didn't feel like talking to anyone else. Likewise, I also declined their invitations to visit their houses or ride with their parents to the movie theaters. Actually, I exchanged those friendships for the solitude of my bedroom at home where I usually spent the evening staring vacantly at the ceiling while trying not to cry anymore.

Yeah, I guess it was kinda my fault.

Overtime, my status evolved from the kind, amiable Y/N who everyone at school admired, to the sullen and despondent weird girl who sometimes spoke to imaginary friends. I spent recesses inside with my teachers, helping them clean the whiteboard. During lunch, I sat alone with my school tray and thought about how my mother used to pack my lunches for me because I complained about the mystery meatloaf....Oh, right, thinking about my mother inevitably made me feel sad again and sometimes I cried at school in front of my classmates.

Needless to say, my youth wasn’t exactly as voracious as my peers...or even my brothers for that matter. Actually, Minho and Felix were perfectly normal because they mourned our mother’s death for several months before inexplicably moving on as if it had never happened. Thereafter, Minho developed a passion for music and my father allowed him to take guitar and piano lessons after school. Felix started to play sports and he was quite good at baseball despite his smaller stature. Likewise, in between classes, I heard my classmates frequently gossiping about my brothers: mysterious and alluring Minho who all the older girls adored, and popular and beloved Felix who was the envy of our classmates.

I didn’t mind being considered an outsider in comparison to my brothers because they still treated me like a friend. In fact, my brothers and I were extremely close, especially after our mother’s death. Despite my introverted tendencies, Minho and Felix often went out of their way to include me in their activities. For example, Minho liked to offer his demos as background music for the raunchier parties in our town and he always begged me to come along and hear his new songs. My older brother was so incredibly talented that I rarely refused his offers, finding myself sitting next to Felix in the backseat of Minho’s car while we drove across town to the wealthier districts. I would spend the rest of the night hanging around my brothers while listening to Minho sing about everything from his ex-girlfriends to the pot he liked to smoke with some of the younger guys.

In any case, I could always count on my brothers to liven my spirits, which might explain why I was so uncomfortable when Minho graduated and applied for University. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing because Minho was only driving thirty minutes everyday to attend his classes and he still lived at home. But it still felt like an unwanted change, and I wasn’t sure how to cope with my brother’s sudden desire to build a studio in the basement of our childhood home while he brought new classmates to fawn over his equipment.

Thankfully, I managed to avoid the unfamiliar faces, and I started spending more time with Felix. Unfortunately, spending time with Felix inevitably forced me to endure the endless pandering from some of his more unsavory acquaintances. For example, when I wanted to play video games one afternoon, I knocked twice on Felix’s door only to find myself in the company of someone who was decidedly the complete opposite of my brother. His name was Han Jisung, and he was Felix’s best friend. “Y/N,” he said quietly, sheepishly attempting to fix the mop on top of his head. “How are you?”

“Fine,” I said, glancing over Jisung’s shoulder. “Where’s Felix?”

“Bathroom,” Jisung said, pointing at the door.

I groaned. “Are you busy?”

“We’re never too busy for you,” Jisung smirked, but he always flirted with me shamelessly as if he didn’t care that I was Felix’s older sister.

I ignored Jisung when I walked into Felix’s bedroom, finding a relatively clean spot on his bed to wait for his return. In the meantime, Jisung lingered by the doorway, watching me with those ridiculous dark eyes. “I heard Minho made another demo.”

“He’s always making demos,” I replied, wondering why Felix was determined to take his time for once.

“Yeah, but he’s really proud of this one.”

“Minho thinks he’s a genius,” I said. “If you were to ask him, then every song he made would be a masterpiece.”

“Well, he’s the reason why I've started to pursue music.”

“You?” I scoffed, finding the idea of Jisung as a creator of anything other than enormous messes on the kitchen counter to be nothing short of hilarious. “Jisung, you can’t even finish your math homework.”

“That’s not true!” Jisung protested. “It’s just not that interesting, and I like music so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“You’ll find something else to like in a few months,” I said, watching as he frowned with that ridiculous pout he always wore when he wasn’t getting his way.

“Yeah? Well, when my first mixtape comes out,” Jisung grumbled.

“I’ll be the first one asking for an autograph,” I teased him, rolling my eyes when he sat next to me and held up his pinky finger.

“Promise?”

“Fine,” I sighed before trying to move further away from Jisung.

He didn’t allow the space for very long, sliding right up against me without any traces of his previous frustrations. “Y/N,” Jisung said, hand reaching out for my shoulder. “There’s a party this Friday.”

“I’m not in the mood for a party,” I said. “I have a lot of homework this weekend, and-”

“Actually, Minho invited us,” Felix interrupted, and I didn’t even realize that my brother had returned. I was also surprised to see Minho behind him, stretching his arms above his head like he had forgotten to sleep again last night.

“You’re going too?” I asked Minho.

“It’s Chan’s party,” Minho explained. “He’s playing some of my demo tracks.”

“Bang Chan,” I repeated, narrowing my eyes because I had heard my brother mention that name dozens of times. Actually, if I didn’t know any better, then I would think Minho had some kind of infatuation with his new college friend.

“I think Minho is in love,” Felix teased, dodging Minho’s playful swing before he joined Jisung and I on the edge of his bed.

“He’s just a friend from one of my lectures,” Minho said.

“Minho also thinks he’s a genius,” Felix whispered to me, but it was loud enough for our brother to overhear.

“You like him too,” Minho protested.

“Felix met him?”

“Last week,” Felix beamed. “Minho and I ran into him on the way to get coffee. Your lazy ass was still asleep at 12:00.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled. “I stayed up late to finish an essay.”

“College will kick your ass, Y/N,” Minho said. “If you can’t survive high school literature...”

“I get it,” I groaned. “I don’t want another lecture.”

“Good, but you’re still coming to the party because I want you to meet Chan and hear your brother’s masterpiece.”

“Please stop calling your mixtape a masterpiece.”

“I’ll consider it,” Minho smirked, “as long as I see you at Chan’s house this Friday.”

“This is considered blackmail, Minho,” I sighed. “But fine, I’ll need the time and address, please.”

I stood on the porch in the frigid cold wearing a party dress that might’ve been overkill, and I had a desire to return to my house because nobody was answering the door. Actually, when I really thought about it, this complex was too nice for a college student, unless Chan had discovered Blackbeard’s treasure or something. I snorted at my own joke, waiting impatiently for someone to let me inside because my brothers weren’t responding to my text messages.

The music sounded faint from behind the door, which made me wonder if Minho had given me the wrong address. It wouldn’t be the first time that my brother gave me some kind of misinformation, but I thought he really wanted me to come tonight and hear his music. “Hello!” I yelled, banging my fist against the door. “Minho? I’m leaving in exactly ten seconds if nobody lets me inside!”

I started the countdown in my head, jumping up and down to warm my muscles, when a sudden expulsion of heat relieved the tension slowly numbing my fingers. “There you are,” Felix said with a drunken smile.

“Isn’t too early for you to be plastered?”

Felix giggled. “They’re playing Minho’s music next.”

“Well, let me inside you asshole,” I said, pushing my way into the house because my brother had clearly forgotten that it was basically snowing outside.

“What do you think?” Felix asked. “It’s pretty nice.”

“I can’t see anything,” I complained, narrowing my eyes since it was difficult to notice the details when the house was packed wall to wall with intoxicated college students. The lights were also dimmed, which meant that walking was an unnecessary chore as Felix took my hand and brought me into the kitchen where he promised Minho was waiting.

At least he wasn’t fully incapable.

“Y/N,” Minho grinned, tossing an arm around my shoulder as he pulled me closer, allowing me to smell the nasty liquor on his breath.

“Drunk at your mixtape reveal party?”

Minho laughed. “I haven’t had much.”

“Felix has,” I said, grimacing when I spotted my younger brother bouncing from person to person with an unmaintainable energy.

“Let him have fun,” Minho said. “I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“Whatever, but he’s your responsibility in the morning when he’s suffering from a hangover.”

“I’ll handle it,” Minho reassured me. “Anyway, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Oh?”

“Chan! Get your ass over here!”

“What a good friend you are,” I remarked, and I was fully prepared to tease my brother further until I realized that Minho was waving down one of the most attractive men I had ever seen.

Chan was absolutely gorgeous, appearing nothing short of debauched under the low-hanging lights of the kitchen. Neatly styled blonde-hair parted down the middle, and bright blue eyes that held the stars inside an endless sea of black. “Are you guys having fun?” he asked with an accent that I couldn’t place.

“The place is fucking awesome, man,” Minho said, wrapping an arm around Chan’s shoulders as he nodded in my direction. “This is my sister,” Minho said with a proud smile.

“Hello,” I said, cringing at my tone.

“Y/N,” Chan smiled, and I decided that nobody could ever say my name again with such a sexy tenor.

“You have a lovely home,” I said, swallowing hard when Chan leaned in closer.

“Minho talks about you a lot,” Chan said with a smirk. “Do you want something to drink?”

I nodded without thinking, keeping my eyes trained on his beautiful visage as a beer slipped into my hand. “Pace yourself,” Minho warned me, but I ignored him as I swallowed down the bile-tasting liquid.

“I like her,” Chan nodded, looking at me seductively from over the top of his bottle.

“She’s a bit uptight,” Minho chuckled, and I glared at him because this was not the time to embarrass me. “Are my songs playing next?”

“I’ll make sure everything is ready,” Chan said, giving me one last lingering look.

“Let’s find a good place to hear everything,” Minho suggested, and I followed my brother with thoughts and fantasies consumed by Bang Chan.

Minho’s mixtape was really good, and I begrudgingly congratulated my brother and even allowed him to tell everyone that it was, in fact, a masterpiece. However, while my brother was distracted by a group of younger fan-girls, I slipped away to try and find somewhere peaceful to recover from my headache. It had developed sometime between the pounding bass line of “BEWARE” and the aggressive tone of “Boxer.”

I paused next to the foyer where there were considerably less people. In fact, only one student lingered next to the open window, and I leaned against the wall as I closed my eyes against the distinct ringing in my ears. Next time, I would wear earplugs when Minho forced me to stand at the speakers.

“You’re not going to pass out, right?”

I blinked several times as the room swam into focus. “I’ll probably make it.”

“There’s a bathroom upstairs,” the rough voice continued, and I finally addressed the hooded figure standing at the window. I realized that he was smoking, holding the bud of the cigarette outside so that the ashes collected somewhere on the porch. “I’m Changbin,” he smirked.

“Oh,” I cleared my throat. “Do you mind if I share the window?”

He shrugged, tossing his hood back so that I could see the way his black hair fell flat against his head. “Sure.”

I carefully felt my way along the wall until the generous cold breeze was hitting my flushed skin. “Thank god,” I groaned, practically forcing my head outside.

“Drink too much?”

“A combination of that and the music.”

“I heard a rumor that the beer was definitely spiked,” he said, dark eyes looking me over. “You’re obviously new here.”

“I’m with my brother,” I offered cautiously in response to his sudden advances.

“Do I know him?”

“Lee Minho.”

Changbin’s eyes widened. “We’re in the same music composition lecture. I thought he mentioned you in class.”

“He invited me,” I continued, but I didn’t understand why I felt the need to justify myself to him.

“I bet he did,” Changbin nodded. “Why would he hide you from us?”

I shivered. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“Is that right?” he asked before cornering me against the wall with a hungry gaze. “You hear the song playing?”

I nodded. “It’s loud.”

Changbin chuckled. “I made it.”

I nodded again because that certainly explained the explicit lyrics. “It’s...interesting?”

“Yeah?” Changbin purred. “Do you like it?”

“I do,” I gasped, feeling one of his hands grab me around the waist.

His lips brushed against mine, soft and sensual, while he inhaled deeply. “Y/N, is this your first party?”

“No,” I whispered because it suddenly felt like we were the only two people left in the room.

“I just assumed,” he said. “From the way you’re reacting.”

“W-what?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you wanted to go someplace else with me,” Changin said.

I was completely baffled by his assumption, searching for the right words, but they never came. However, the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat forced us apart, and I was surprised to see Chan standing so close. “I guess you’ve met Minho’s little sister,” Chan said and I hated how immature the introduction sounded.

“She made sure to tell me,” Changbin smirked. “I can’t believe we haven’t met before.”

“He’s looking for her,” Chan continued, and I was confused by the hostility in his tone. “You probably shouldn’t do anything.”

“Wasn’t gonna,” Changbin retorted, planting one of his hands next to my head. “She’s feeling sick. Tell Minho I can take her home.”

“He won’t like that.”

“Oh? Is anyone else sober?”

Chan was quiet for a moment, eyes darting between the two of us. “Wait here.”

“What a good host,” Changbin snarked, but Chan was already walking away and I was starting to feel the effects of my alcoholic consumption darken the edges of my vision.

My brother was nothing short of incoherent, swaying back against Chan as he tried to give me a stern look. “Y/N, I hope you didn’t drink too much.”

“Really?” I snorted. “Isn’t that hypocritical?”

Of course, my admonishment had no effect on Minho. “Chan said that you were feeling sick.”

“It’s just a headache,” I said, although my churning stomach seemed to suggest otherwise.

“I thought I could take Y/N home,” Changbin interrupted. “I guess she could use some fresher air.”

“Sure,” Minho nodded, eyes glassy. “I don’t mind.”

Minho was readily willing to entrust his sister into the care of someone she had just met, and that’s when I knew that he couldn’t be trusted to take me anywhere. “Is that what you want?” Chan asked.

I shrugged because it might be nice to finally escape the endless drumming of Chan’s intricate sound system. “I might be saving myself some trouble.”

“I need more cigarettes,” Changbin said. “I’m running low and I know there’s a store near Minho’s house.

I frowned, but figured that Minho had brought Changbin over to our house before during that brief phase at the start of his college semester when I saw a new face in the basement every week. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“As long as you behave,” Chan warned him quietly, but I never had the opportunity to question him before Changbin was forcing us both outside onto the main porch where the snow was starting to build along the sidewalks.

“This way,” Changbin said, resting one of his hands against my lower back as he guided us down the street.

Changbin’s car was a very old model and the paint was starting to peel from the doors. He helped me inside slowly, reaching for my seat-belt before I slapped his hands out of the way because I could manage to do that by myself. He chuckled at my glare. “Comfortable?”

I nodded in response and waited for him to turn on the ignition before I was savoring the accompanying blast of heat even though it smelled distinctly of ashes. “Minho’s little sister,” Changbin said, eyes focused on the road in front of him. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah,” I replied because the growing distance between us and Chan’s party music was actually nice. “I guess the music gave me a headache.”

“That’s how Chan likes it,” Changbin said. “He’s gotten at least a dozen noise complaints from this past month alone.”

“How many parties does he have!”

Changbin smirked. “He likes to keep his house full.”

“It might’ve been too much tonight,” I said, leaning my head against the cold window. “I’ve never seen so many people.”

“Exams,” Changbin said. “When college students feel stressed, they like to get shitfaced.”

“But you’re not drunk.”

“Who said that I was stressed?”

His tone was strangely flirtatious, especially when he looked at me. “You didn’t have to help me, you know?”

“I know, but it was my window we were sharing,” Changbin said. “You looked like you were seconds away from crashing.”

“I can take care of myself,” I replied, even though it was rather harsh to criticize someone who was currently neglecting the speed limit to take my home as quickly as possible. “When did you meet Minho?”

“A few weeks ago,” Changbin said. “We worked on a project together.”

“I guess you’ve already been to my house.”

“Yeah, but I sure as hell don’t remember seeing you.”

“I don’t really like to socialize with most of my brother’s friends.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Changbin said, briefly glancing at me. “Are you that type? The unattainable girl next door?”

“I just don’t like people,” I grumbled, but Changbin seemed to think it was funny, laughing at my expense while reaching down to turn on the radio despite the fact that music had caused my headache in the first place.

Of course, I didn’t want to be that type, so I endured his self-promotion, listening to his gravelly voice suspend the entire car into some kind of hip-hip haven. He talked his way through the introductions of every song on his mixtapes, bragging about his compositions and arrangements. “It’s all about authenticity,” he explained when we finally pulled into my driveway.

“Is that so?” I sighed, frowning when I realized Felix had forgotten to turn on the front porch light.

“I guess I should wait until you’re inside,” Changbin chuckled.

“Thanks,” I said, reaching out for the door handle.

“Woah! Baby, where are you going?” Changbin asked, and I quickly returned my hands to my lap. “Are you trying to get away from me?”

“No,” I shook my head, breathing heavily when he reached for my thigh.

“You probably don’t hear this a lot,” Changbin continued. “But you’re really sexy.”

I startled at his words. “Thank you?”

“I mean it, Y/N,” he continued, fingers inching along my thigh like it was free real estate. “Thank god you wanted to share my window.”

I shook my head rapidly when he turned off the ignition, navigating the waistband of his panties to drag his hand against my sensitive core. “What are you doing?” I whispered.

“I’m trying to make you feel good,” he said. “Do you want me to?”

I nodded this time, waiting with my fists balled against the leather seats while he penetrated the soft walls of my core, moving in and out slowly to help me adjust to his fingers. I tried to relax, dropping my shoulders and controlling the way I was panting in desperation for more of the addicting feeling he was creating in my lower abdomen. It all felt entirely scandalous, feeling the way his fingers dragged across my insides, curling against the most responsive parts and watching me with an intensity that I could barely tolerate. I was moaning for him, calling his name softly because he was starting to increase his movements, and I focused on the way his wrist reappeared from underneath my skirt before losing itself in a sea of denim fabric.

“It’s wet,” he remarked, and the sounds of his penetration were growing louder, intermingling with my rapid breaths and the dark tone of his voice. “I can feel it.”

I knew what he meant because my entire body was pulsing in time to the pace in which he played with me. It was like I was his personal experiment, testing how I reacted to certain touches, especially when he crooked his fingers and a moan would displace the temporary quiet. “Changbin,” I whined, reaching for his arm because everything was starting to feel overwhelming.

“I got you,” he said. “You’ve been so good for me, Y/N, I’m not gonna stop until you cum.”

I orgasmed at his filthy words, falling down from the place he sent me and into a deep headspace. He pulled his fingers back, holding them up so that I could clearly see the evidence of my release in the faint light from the street lamp outside. “You didn’t expect that,” Changbin said calmly, reaching for a tissue from the backseat while I tried to figure out what just happened. “I don’t really care who your brother is,” he continued, moving in close. “I think we should fuck next time.”

“Changbin,” I said, “if Minho finds out-”

“Why are you always worried about him?”

“He’s my brother!”

“Oh? Well, in that case, since you want to be good for your older brother,” Changbin smirked. “I guess I’ll have to find a different way to see you again.”

The next morning, I took a shower because I could still feel traces of Changbin’s touches between my thighs. The water was hot, fogging up the mirrors and making it difficult to breathe. It was necessary because I could function better when I re-emerged with fresh clothes and a sudden hunger for those little chocolate muffins my mom bought at the store.

I walked downstairs, noticing Felix and Jisung both sitting at the counter while they talked over their breakfast. Felix noticed me first, watching as I grabbed a leftover pastry from the fridge before leaning back against the cabinets. “Did you have fun last night?” he asked.

I narrowed my eyes, but then I realized that his question was innocent because he definitely didn’t know about Changbin. “It was nice.”

“What are you doing today?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I haven’t made plans.”

“You can hang out with me and Jisung today,” Felix suggested. “We’re just going for coffee.”

Jisung met my gaze from over the table and he quickly looked away as if he wasn’t expecting the contact. “Yeah,” I nodded. “I could use some coffee.”

It wasn’t often that I accompanied Felix and Jisung when they decided to actually leave the house and my brother’s massive collection of video games. Felix was never the problem, but I could only endure so much of Jisung’s flirtations before I inevitably made another pointless vow to try and ignore him. It was an impossible promise to keep since Felix was practically glued to his hip, and I can’t remember the last time Jisung actually spent the night at his own home.

However, coffee was nice and the taste was bile so it sat heavy on my tongue and provided a good distraction, even if that meant listening to my brother and Felix talk about the party. “I met Chan,” Jisung said. “He was really cool.”

Felix nodded, eyeing his coffee with obvious distaste. “Minho seems to like him.”

“He introduced me to his partner, Changbin,” Jisung continued and I fidgeted nervously at the mention of his name. “Apparently, they do a lot of work together.”

“I’ve heard their stuff,” Felix said, finally pushing away his coffee cup in exchange for his orange juice. “I think they’re really talented.”

“It’s like you’re meeting real professionals,” Jisung gushed and I rolled my eyes. “I let them listen to one of my demos,” Jisung chuckled. “I think they want to work together.”

“Really?” Felix gasped. “That’s amazing!”

“I guess they need another partner,” I remarked, shivering when I thought about my encounter with Changbin from the previous evening.

“You can always come with me to the studio tomorrow,” Jisung said. “If you want.”

The idea of being alone with Jisung wasn’t exactly high on my list of priorities. “I don’t know...”

“Changbin will be there too,” Jisung added. “Minho said he really thought you were cool at the party.”

“I bet he did,” I grumbled.

“Why are you inviting her instead of your best friend?” Felix pouted.

“You said you needed to work on a project,” Jisung reminded him. “Actually, you made me swear to keep away distractions!”

“Alright, fine,” Felix sighed. “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean that I’m okay with it.”

Jisung ignored my brother’s sullen expression. “Y/N? Do you want to come?”

“I guess,” I said, and I had no idea what possessed me to agree with his request until it was too late.

The next morning, I met Jisung outside of the address he had sent to my phone with several rather inappropriate emojis. I made sure to scold him for the messages, but he was far too excited, ignoring my complaints when he started talking about the new project he was working on with Chan and Changbin. “Come on,” he said, holding open the door as I walked inside the tiny lobby of the simple two-story building. “We’re on the top floor,” Jisung smirked as if that was something to brag about considering the condition of the worn-down warehouse they were using as a studio.

However, I knew that he was excited, so I feigned a smile as he continued talking about the building’s intricate history while we walked up the staircase to pause outside of a studio room. “Is this it?” I asked.

He nodded, reaching for the door handle. “They should be inside.”

True to his word, Chan and Changbin were standing together in front of a large computer monitor, turning around when they heard me and Jisung enter the room together. “There you are,” Chan said, but his gaze was strangely focused on me.

“We have some stuff for you to hear,” Changbin said, stretching his arms above his head. “I need some coffee first.”

“There’s a gas station down the road,” Jisung said. “I’ll go with you?”

Changbin looked at me for a moment before agreeing to Jisung’s proposal. “We’ll have plenty of time to work when we get back.”

“You’re in for a surprise, Jisung,” Chan said. “Actually, while the two of you are gone, maybe Y/N could look at some of the tracks?”

“Really?” I asked, surprised that he would be so willing to share, but he was already dragging me down into the desk chair, pulling me closer to the monitor.

“You can take you time and browse,” he said, joining Jisung and Changbin at the door.

They started talking about something else, but I was too busy admiring the vast number of tracks listened in sequential order on Chan’s computer. Despite how I might feel about Changbin, it was impossible to deny that their work was impressive, spreading across years of effort. It felt like I was being allowed an intimate glimpse of the artists who were growing more popular everyday.

“Try to be back in twenty minutes,” Chan said, and I watched Jisung and Changbin leave together, whispering in low tones while Chan shut the door behind them. “Your music is really good,” I said, scrolling through the library of his songs. It only made him that much more appealing when I could see the evidence of his passion.

“Are we going to stop playing games, Y/N?”

I frowned at his question, turning around in the chair. “What do you mean?”

Chan smirked, and I realized that it wasn’t playful. “Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are?” he asked.

“Chan...” I trailed off, frozen in place while he slowly leered in my direction, taking several, meaningful steps before he was bracing himself on either side of the desk behind me.

“Changbin told me about what happened in the car.”

I swallowed hard. “W-what?”

“Is that all it takes? A couple of fingers to satisfy you?”

“Chan, I don’t understand,” I tried, gasping when he picked me up out of the chair, legs wrapping around his waist automatically before he sat me down on the desk.

“Do you want it again?” Chan asked, running his hands alongside my waist before crawling his finger across the bare skin of my thighs, disregarding the thin barrier of my skirt. I felt him press the palm of his hand against my wet heat, fingers testing the edges of my panties. “I can make you feel good.”

The sensation was too much, and I found myself nodding without really thinking about the consequences. “Please.”

His fingers were suddenly penetrating my delicate walls, sliding in and out at a vicious pace that left me aching for something more. “Tell me, Y/N,” Chan demanded, using his thumb to circle my throbbing clitoris. “How does it feel?”

“I want it, Chan,” I moaned, bracing my hands against his firm chest as he continued to pleasure me. Unlike Changbin, I could tell that Chan was determined to make me cum as soon as possible, twisting his hand and jamming his fingers like he was aiming to make me lose my mind. I practically fell against him crying, riding out the waves of my high, while he ignored my whimpers when everything was suddenly feeling overstimulated.

“Come here,” he said, pulling out his fingers before falling against his chair and patting his thighs.

My legs were shaking when Chan helped me onto his lap and I moaned when his fingers crooked against my walls again. “Do you want my cock?” he asked and I nodded viciously, sending strands of my hair flying in all directions. “What a good girl,” he snarled, ripping his fingers away and leaving me whining around the empty space he left behind.

“Chan,” I groaned, resting my head against his shoulder while I watched him make a show out of undoing the belt around his waist, unzipping his skinny jeans before shoving the material down his thighs. His erection strained the silky material of his boxer shorts, and I was practically salivating.

He reached down to rub himself through his shorts, outlining his cock in a way that made me realize that I wasn’t going to leave this studio without an obvious limp. “Y/N,” he said. “Take off your skirt for me.”

I whined, but obeyed him instantly, bracing one hand against his shoulder while the other practically ripped the fine material of the pretty skirt down my legs and into the studio floor. Chan’s eyes darkened, grabbing my waist between his hands to grind the front of my soaked panties against his erection. “Please,” I cried, wanting nothing more than to take matters into my own hands, but Chan’s grip was impossible to break.

“I’m going to fuck this little pussy,” Chan growled. “Can you last long enough for me to come inside?”

“Yes,” I whined, stuttering around a broken sob when he pulled his cock into the studio light, stretching my panties to the side before sinking deep inside my pulsing heat.

“That’s right,” Chan said, eyes closed. “You feel so good.”

“Chan,” I moaned, eye widening when the stretch felt impossible, like he was splitting me open even when common sense told me that it was just my body accommodating to his cock.

His hips slammed into mine, and I could barely reciprocate when he easily overpowered my attempts to meet him somewhere between our bodies. Instead, he took control and I let him have it because he knew exactly what to do before sending me over the edge again, ignoring my cries when he continued to chase his own high, grunting against my ear when he came inside.

“Y/N,” he sighed, keeping me in place despite the fact that his cock was completely flaccid. “Such a good girl.”

I was incoherent and incapable of offering a response in return. Instead, I buried my face into the side of his neck, smelling the scent of his cologne mixed with sweat and the sex polluting the air around us. His body was firm and warm, and I closed my eyes because everything felt like an incredibly lucid dream.

I was still exhausted from the previous afternoon, unable to walk much further than from my bedroom to the living room before the painful reminder of my unexpected session with Chan started to ache between my legs. There was a movie playing on the television, but I was only somewhat focused on the lazy plot and characters. Instead, I was thinking about my interactions with Chan and Changbin, wondering if the two men were playing some sort of mind game with me.

I only managed to tear myself away from those thoughts when I saw Minho as he walked down the stairs with Felix and Jisung talking about something to do with a sports competition. “There you are!” Felix exclaimed. “We were just talking about your visit to the studio with Jisung.”

“I heard you got a tour,” Minho said. “That was nice of them.”

“Yeah,” I agree because there was a lot more to talk about besides the tour of the dilapidated studio.

“I haven’t had a chance to visit,” Minho said. “But they said I could record my new demo there.”

“Another one!” Felix gasped, looking at my brother with wide eyes. “You’re a fucking genius, man.”

“Oh, I know,” Minho smirked. “Actually, I can show you before my first lecture,” Minho said, starting in the direction of his bedroom.

Jisung watched Felix trail behind Minho before he joined me on the couch. “What did you think of the studio?”

I swallowed hard. “It was fine.”

“I think it’s really nice,” Jisung said. “Chan said something making us a permanent trio! He even gave us a name and everything!”

“Oh?”

“3racha,” Jisung giggled. “It’s like a pun-”

“Yeah, I get it,” I sighed impatiently. “I’m trying to watch the movie.”

Jisung was undeterred by the sharp comment, and he buried himself further into the cushions before turning his attention back to the screen.

“Our first show is tomorrow, Y/N,” Jisung giggled, and I finally turned to look at him. “I hope you can watch?”

“Where?”

“It’s a club somewhere downtown. I can send you the address? I know that Chan and Changbin were both insisting that you come.”

“I’m sure they were,” I grumbled, but Jisung was more interested in talking about his contributions to the album.

“It would mean a lot to me,” he managed after thoroughly explaining their newest concept. “You don’t even have to stay for the whole show.”

“I don’t know...”

“Minho and Felix are coming!” he quickly added, and I wondered if he knew that I would feel more comfortable with my brothers around.

“Okay,” I finally relented, groaning when he started jumping up and down on the couch like an overzealous puppy.

I rode to the club with Minho and Felix who were excitedly chattering about the impending concert while I looked out the window despondently. It felt like a huge risk to show up to the concert considering the recent events concerning my meetings with Chan and Changbin. However, I didn’t want my brothers to be suspicious, so I reluctantly followed them inside where we squeezed together around one of the tables in the middle of an enormous crowd.

The atmosphere was euphoric, draped in a haze of alcohol and the flashing neon lights decorating the stage. It was actually quite civil considering the fact that we were moments away from listening to loud music full of pounding bass and fast rapping. I was half-way convinced that the other guests had no idea what they were actually getting themselves into by coming here tonight.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” an annoucement blared overheard, “please welcome, 3racha!”

The audience started clapping while a familiar melody began softly playing, and the fans around me started to cheer for the three shadowy figures who had suddenly walked onto the stage. “Let’s go!” Chan shouted, beginning his verse of the song which I now recognized as one of the tracks they had played for me at the studio. They were all wearing black, matching the tone and vibe of their music, playing through each track with an infectious energy. However, I was still unnerved because I noticed that they all managed to look at me at some point, even though the crowd, and I was starting to feel hot all over my entire body.

“They’re really good,” Felix remarked, and I nodded in return even though I was finding the table much more interesting.

“Thank you, 3racha!” an overhead announcement said and the audience were rising to their feet in synchrony to offer the artists a round of applause for their stage.

“Jisung sounded amazing!” Felix said as if he couldn’t resist the opportunity to brag about his friend.

“Maybe we can meet them backstage,” Minho suggested, and I halfheartedly protested when my brothers forced me to accompany them.

Subsequently, Minho forced Felix and I to wait by the stage for his friends because he was convinced that I really didn’t have an important project to complete before tomorrow. “You never do anything last minute, Y/N,” he said, smiling when he spotted Chan’s messy hair from the middle of the crowd.

“Hey!” Chan greeted him, accepting Minho’s failed attempt at a cool handshake. Changbin and Jisung followed him, and I couldn’t help but notice how the youngest had started to stumble on his feet.

“You guys did great,” Minho said, talking extensively about his favorite performance while a sudden bombardment of alcohol hit my senses.

I instantly recoiled, covering my nose when the smell grew stronger. “How much did you drink, Jisung?”

“Not much,” the younger boy slurred, and I noticed that his eyes were distant.

“I’ll grab us more drinks,” Changbin said, giving me a familiar dark look before disappearing into the surrounding crowd.

“He’ll be fine,” Felix said, tossing an arm around Jisung’s shoulder. “You deserve to celebrate tonight, man!”

I tugged on Minho’s sleeve to catch his attention, unwittingly drawing Chan’s gaze at the same time. “I think he’s drunk.”

Minho sighed, ready to launch into one of his world-famous lectures, when he was interrupted by the DJ onstage who confronted Chan. “Hey! We couldn’t find you after the show.”

Chan rolled his eyes. “I was out here the entire time.”

“Well, you need to pick up your CD backstage,” the DJ said. “The owners will throw it out tomorrow.”

“I’ll be right there,” Chan grumbled while glaring at the DJ.

“Now,” the man growled and Chan quietly excused himself with a brittle tone. Meanwhile, I had to help Felix with Jisung because his friend was starting to sway dangerously back and forth.

“He needs to go home,” I sighed, watching as Jisung leaned more of his weight against a much smaller Felix.

“I’d take him, but I already had two beers,” Minho said, looking at Felix expectantly.

“Me!” Felix whined. “But I want to stay.”

“He’s your friend,” I glowered.

“Alright,” Minho groaned. “Y/N, you haven’t had anything to drink and you’re way more responsible than Felix.”

It was easy to meet Minho’s stern gaze since this was the perfect opportunity to finally leave the club. “Fine, I’ll take Jisung home.”

“Then it’s settled,” he agreed, tossing me his spare set of car keys. “Take him to our place.”

“Okay,” I said, groaning when Felix helped Jisung wrap his arms around my shoulders and waist. The additional weight was burdensome, and I cursed Jisung under my breath as I helped him through the club to where the bouncer waited at the exit. “I’ll never let you forget this,” I hissed, waiting for the bouncer to open the door while I took one last look over my shoulder to check on my brothers. Instead, I found myself looking directly into Changbin’s dark eyes as he waited by the bar, a familiar smirk making him appear even more dangerous. I shivered in response before I slowly shuffled to the car with Jisung practically breathing down my neck.

When I finally managed to accompany Jisung inside my house, I unceremoniously deposited him on the couch, ignoring the way he groaned in complaint. “I’ll find you some medicine,” I said, searching through one of the side tables.

“It hurts,” Jisung whined, and I rolled my eyes after shoving a bottle of Aspirin in his direction.

“Remember that when you decide to be stupid again.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, dropping two pills into his hand before swallowing them eagerly.

I grimaced as I sat down next to him. “When did you start drinking?”

“Before the show,” Jisung said. “Changbin said it would help take the edge off.”

“Yeah? Do me a favor and don’t listen to him anymore,” I said, frowning when Jisung curled closer to my side. “What are you doing?”

“Tired,” he said, looking up at me with a smile. “You look beautiful.”

I scoffed, trying to push him away, but alcohol apparently made him bolder because he was suddenly twisting one leg around my hip to hold himself in place. “Jisung, you need to stop,” I said, gasping when he brought his lips against mine, kissing me with skill and a surprising amount of tongue. “We can’t do this!”

“Please,” Jisung whined, grinding his hips against my legs. “Just one night, Y/N?”

“Your drunk,” I said, which was only one of a dozen problems with the scenarios currently playing out right in front of my very eyes.

“I’m sober,” Jisung promised, frantically chasing my lips with eager kisses.

It was nothing short of desire, the way he was looking at me, while I watched our clothes end up in a pile around the couch as Jisung fumbled with the condom before I helped him roll it onto his erection. He groaned at the contact, and I moved my hand up and down his cock a few more times before directing him between my legs. Jisung slid inside with a messy exhale, and his arms trembled as they supported his body looming over mine with his delicate frame.

It was a pleasant contradiction because Chan’s thrusts had been nothing short of confident while Jisung’s inexperience showed in the frantic way his hips stuttered against mine. He tried to move faster, losing his previous rhythm, and his cock fell all the way out, erection sliding between my thighs instead. He whined pathetically, rutting against my legs for several moments before he re-adjusted himself deep inside. “Y/N,” he moaned.

“It’s okay,” I told him, petting my fingers along the crown of his head. “You’re doing so good.”

“I like you so much,” Jisung replied earnestly and my heart ached at his words.

He looked unbelievably sinful, eclipsing my body against his as I felt the fabric of the couch against my skin. The friction was delicious, and I focused on the way his cock felt, thrusts growing more and more assured as he finally found a way to please us both, thumb brushing across my clitoris. He was still kissing me, tongue moving across mine deliberately, and I was breathing harshly as I fought to control the rising heat building in my abdomen. It was an intense build-up to an orgasm that I could’ve never anticipated since Jisung was always Felix’s friend who I usually avoided. The same Jisung whose endless flirtations usually annoyed me, but something had changed the moment I looked into his eyes and saw the lust and desire coming together to create an intoxicating mixture.

It was suddenly impossible to ignore the way he made me feel and I felt him come deep inside with a stuttered moan. His hips moved harshly against mine, and I chased my release with a sensual grind of my hips until I was throwing my head back with a cry, groaning when his lips found the sensitive skin of my neck. “Jisung,” I murmured, watching him through a haze of darkness as he rolled over next to me with a moan.

I studied the way Jisung’s hair fanned out across the cushions, making him look angelic beneath the influence of the moon’s light breaking the barrier of the curtains. It made me feel guilty, realizing that I had finally returned Jisung’s feelings only after my tumultuous affairs with Changbin and Chan. In fact, I was nothing more than the very girls I often mocked when they threw themselves at the most popular boys in school. I swallowed hard at the realization. “What have I done?”

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #skz #skz fanfic #seo changbin fanfic #bang chan fanfic #han jisung fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz smut #changbin smut #han jisung smut #bang chan smut

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atlafan · 4 years

Note

could u maybe write something ab harry and the reader reuniting after taking a break for a while 🥺 just something a lil angsty and fluffy

a/n: oh wow, I’ve actually been wanting to write something about this for a little bit, let’s see what I can whip up! Less angst in this than I thought, but super fluffy. Hope you liked it! This is an au, so ya boy’s not famous.

New York to London

It wasn’t easy, but you both decided to take some time apart. You both just graduated from college, and you needed to figure out what you were doing for jobs. If you needed to move somewhere for work, neither of you wanted to hold the other back. You were in love, but you were still so young. If it was meant to be, it would happen, right?

You ended up in New York. You loved clothes and fashion. Were a marketing major with a minor in art. You found yourself living in a cozy apartment on the upper east side, working remotely for a clothing app. You got to design and select outfits for people. It was sort of like Stitch Fix. Working from home allowed you to fill up your sketch books with design ideas of your own. Sometimes you would go out and work from the local coffee shop, just to have a change of scenery, of course making sure to buy coffee and food in exchange for the free wifi.

You and Harry agreed not to really talk, or fill each other in what you were doing. Neither of you wanted to fall into the “please, just come move here with me” trap. You weren’t entirely sure what he was doing, or if he had decided to go back to London altogether. You missed him, and it was a good relationship, but it had definitely run its course. You were with him for two years, you did a lot of growing up together, but you were never certain if he was the man of future.

Six months into your job, you had started making friends in the city. You found time to go out and enjoy the night life when you could. You had even gone on a few dates here and there, a couple of one night stands when you were sick of using your own devices to get off. Things a lot of young, twenty-somethings did. One day, out of the blue, you got a text from your ex-boyfriend.

Harry: hi love, is it okay if I still call you that? lol...anyways, I’m in NYC for a few days...work thing...would love to see you if you’re up for it...xx

You take a deep breath when you see the text. You hate the way it makes your heart flutter. You ended up dating Harry in the first place because he always had this way of making you nervous, but in a good way. You always had butterflies around him, and you always found it hard to say no. You were genuinely curious to see how he was doing, and what exactly he did for work, so after waiting precisely twenty minutes, you decide to text him back.

You: hey! course it’s okay ;p I’d love to catch up! dinner and a drink sound good?

Harry: sounds great, name the time and place

You and Harry decide to meet up at a restaurant near his hotel that Friday night. You didn’t want to go to some tourist trap, but you knew of a nice place near where he was staying. You made sure to look your best, maybe remind him a bit of what he was missing. You knew he’d do the same. You put on your best little black dress, put your hair up into a sleek high pony, and put on some makeup. You grabbed a pair of red pumps for a pop of color, and into your uber you went.

It was a nice, spring evening. It was getting warmer out, so you only needed a light jacket along with your dress. You wait in the lobby of the restaurant for him.

“Y/N?”

You’d know the sound of his voice anywhere. You turn around and smile. He was almost shocked, you had never looked better. He looked nice. Blue pair of slacks, white button up with the first few undone, and a salmon pink sport coat. Classic Harry.

“Hi!”

You wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“You look great.” He says, blushing slightly.

“Thanks, so do you. I put a reservation in for us online. Wanna see if the table’s ready?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

He puts his hands in his pockets and follows you up to the hostess. She checks you both in and leads you to your table a few minutes later.

“Come here a lot?” He asks as he sits down.

“Sometimes. Been here with some friends.”

You take your jacket off and hang it on the back of your chair. He gets a really good eye full of you. He smiles when he sees you wearing the necklace he had gotten you for your last birthday.

“So, you’re in the city for work?”

“Yup, I’m an admissions counselor for a small school up in New Hampshire. I got hired to do a lot of the traveling, so I’m rarely on campus.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Where else do you travel to?”

“Mostly the state of New York and Massachusetts.”

“What made you-”

“Hi folks, I’m Max, I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start either of you off with a drink?”

“I’d love a glass of pinot noir please.” You smile.

“Just a Corona for me, thanks.”

“Excellent, I’ll be back in a few minutes with those.” He smiles and walks away.

“Anyways, what made you want to become an admissions counselor?”

“I get to travel with all expenses paid. I really had no idea what I wanted to do after I graduated, so this gives me more time to figure it out. I can explore the various places I go to. S’not like I’m tied down, right?” He jokes.

“Right.”

He clears his throat.

“So, it seems like the city’s treating you well.”

“Very well!” You chuckle. “I love it so much. I get to work remotely too, so no one really bothers me, which is great. I’m able to work on my sketches in my down time.”

“Yeah, you’re working for like a clothing subscription service?”

“Mhm, it’s awesome. I love getting to know my clients and all that.”

“You seem happy.”

“I am. I feel really independent.”

The waiter comes back over with your drinks. You end up ordering a salad with some grilled shrimp, while Harry opts for a veggie burger. You clink your glasses together.

“So, it’s okay that I texted right?”

“Of course! I think I’d be a little upset if I knew you were so close by and didn’t even think to say hi.”

“I’ve wanted to reach out for a while, but...I know you said you wanted some space.”

“Well, we both agreed on that.”

“I guess.” He shrugs.

“Did we not?”

“No, we did. I guess all I mean is...I don’t know...takin’ a break has just been weird, that’s all.”

Before you can respond, your food is brought over. The conversation lightens up a bit as you eat. Harry really enjoys the food. Towards the end, he insists that he pays. You eventually agree to just split the bill.

“Wanna come see my place? I think you’ll like it, it’s cozy.”

“Sure! Thought I’d have to work a little harder for you to invite me back with you.” He smirks.

“Oh, stop it.” You swat an arm at him.

The uber ride back to your place is quiet. He was impressed by the building you were in. He couldn’t believe you could afford such a nice place.

“So, it’s a studio, but it’s not cramped.” You show him inside. “Like, I can stretch out in the shower.” You giggle. “Got really creative with the storage too.”

“View makes it all worth it, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.” You both look out the window together. “Sit, sit. What can I get for you? I have more wine, and some beers int he fridge.”

“Beer’s fine, thanks.”

He sits down on your small couch while you get the drinks together. You come back over and him a beer.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.” You take a sip of your wine. “So, do you, like, have an apartment in New Hampshire?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a small place to call home when I’m not traveling.”

“That’s good.”

“Mhm.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Can I ask you something...sort of personal?”

“Um, sure.”

“You haven’t been, like, hooking up have you?”

“What?”

“Because I haven’t.”

“I never told you not to.”

“So, does that mean you have?”

“Harry...we’re not together, we’re broken up.” You frown and so does he.

“A break is different from a break up, though, right?”

“We agreed to end things so we could go off and find our career paths. I mean, I think about you a lot, but I guess I didn’t really think we’d actually get back together. It’s been six months, Harry.”

“I know...”

“I mean, I’m not seeing anyone. I’ve had a few dates here and there, but nothing serious. I don’t really have time for it.”

“Me neither...I guess the only difference is I haven’t wanted to even be with anyone else, random or not.”

“I find that very hard to believe.” You scoff. “If there was a day I couldn’t see you, you’d tell me how touch starved you were.”

“That’s true, but it was your touch I was starved for, no one else’s. You know me, I was never the hook up guy as it was. It’s gross.” He takes another sip of his drink. “Do you always hook up with different people or-”

“No.”

He nods his head.

“How many have there been?”

“What does it matter?”

“Just wondering if I need to catch up or something.” He scoffs.

“Harry, we never agreed on not hooking up with other people, we never even talked about it.”

“Because I just assumed we wouldn’t! Don’t you miss me?”

“I miss being in college and having zero responsibilities.” You sigh. “I try not to think about what I miss about you too much. And no offense, but I’ve actually begun a career. You’re still figuring things out. It wouldn’t good if we tried to get back together right now. I like living alone, and-”

“Alright, I get it, you’re better off without me.” He rolls his eyes.

��That’s not what I meant.” You put your hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs it away.

“Do you think I like not being good enough? I’d give you the world if I could, but I literally have zero idea what I’m passionate about. I feel like I wasted four years of my life. Now when I talk with these kids on where they want to go to school and the reasons they want to go...” He shakes his head.

“You’re a people person, you’ve always been that way. You have a stage presence to you. A room lights up when you walk in.”

“S’not exactly a transferable skill, love.”

“You’ll figure it out, Harry. I know you will.”

A year or so later you heard from a mutual friend that Harry moved back to London. He had gone off into the world of PR, and he was thriving. Your job had lead you to some opportunities to go to London, they had even asked you if you wanted to relocate there. Many of the clothing lines they had were exported from there, and they wanted you more on the buying team since you had such a great eye. You said you’d consider it and go for a visit to check things out. You and Harry hadn’t talked much since he had seen you in New York, but you wanted to pay him the same courtesy he given you.

You: Hey, Harry! It’s Y/N...I’m coming to London next week for a work thing. Might even be relocating there! I was wondering if you’d like to get together. Maybe you can tell me how great the city is, lol

You had deleted the text about five times before actually hitting send. Two hours later he got back to you.

Harry: Did you think I deleted your number?! Of course I know it’s you! That sounds great, let me just check over my schedule with my assistant and I’ll get back to you on when would work.

You: wow, an assistant, how fancy are you?

Harry: she keeps my head on straight, that’s for sure

You: well, I’m looking forward to seeing you...it’s been too long!

Harry: I agree

And just like that, you had butterflies in your stomach. You hoped maybe he was single, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he was seeing someone. He was a girlfriend guy, and you had basically told him you weren’t getting back together last time you spoke.

You were given a wonderful tour of the office you’d potentially be working in. Everyone seemed friendly, and you certainly wouldn’t be the only American working there if you decided to accept.

Towards the end of the week, Harry invited you over for a dinner at his flat. You were surprised he didn’t want to go out. Maybe you’d be starting at his flat and then go to a club? You were dying to see how the London night life compared to New York’s. You take a cab to his flat and text him when you’re there. He comes downstairs to meet you outside.

“Harry!” You practically squeal. You wrap your arms around each other for a nice embrace. “It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you too. Driver found the place okay?”

“Mhm.” You smile.

“Come on up. Just got dinner on the table.”

He leads you upstairs. Your jaw drops when you see how spacious his flat is. It was a one bedroom with a nice open concept. It looked like he entertained quite often. He had a bar set up in the living area.

“This is beautiful.”

“Thanks. Figured I could afford a nice place, why not have one?” He shrugs.

You use his hall bath to freshen up. He has you sit down at his dining table. He had made curry.

“This smells so good, thanks so much for cooking.”

“I figured you’d enjoy a real meal after eating out all week.”

“You figured right, thank you.”

“Oh stop.” He sits down. “Just eat, yeah?”

You moan after tasting the food.

“This is delicious.”

“Thanks.” He smirks. “So, do you think you really might move here?”

“I might, yeah. It seems like a really big step up for me.”

“No one back in New York to miss you?”

“Nope.” You grin. “Other than the few friends I’ve made.” You shrug. “My family is really supportive too.”

“That’s great. I’m really glad I came home. I feel like once I did the opportunities came flying in. I love PR. I make phone calls, set up events. And I get to meet so many cool people.”

“And you have an assistant.” You chuckle.

“S’not what you think. She’s not some young thing that’s enthralled with me. She’s like forty years old, has a couple of kids that don’t need her home with them anymore. She’s a great help though. I actually requested someone a little older.”

“Why’s that?”

“Some of the younger girls in the interview, when they actually came to speak with me, I don’t know, I just kept getting this weird vibe.”

“It’s because you’re so captivating. You’re intimidating, but charming.” You take another bite of food. “Sexy.”

“Oh, gimme a break.”

“I’m serious! You always made me feel nervous when we first started talking. You would always really sit back and observe the room before talking. You can be quiet sometimes. But that was you then, that’s just a version of you that I know, you could be different now.”

“I’d like to think so. Although, I think I’m just a good listener. I definitely like reading a room before I join a conversation.”

“I’m so happy to see you doing well.” You take a sip of your drink. “So...any lucky ladies or fellas in your life?”

“No.” He laughs. “M’way too busy for all that. I mean...I’ve had some fun here and there, I’m not celibate.” He takes a sip of his own drink. “What about you?”

“Nothing serious.” You shrug. “I haven’t minded being focused on my career, you know? I have a good work-life balance, don’t get me wrong, but like if I were in a relationship right now, I may not be making this move.”

“Tell me, if I didn’t live here would you still consider moving?”

“I don’t know. It’s a huge plus knowing I’d have someone close by, someone I know to show me around. If you had the time of course. You could even tell me what the good neighborhoods to live in are.”

“You could get a flat here. It’s a really nice building to be in. I bet you’d be able to afford it if I can. They want you to be a buyer?”

“Yeah, my boss thinks I have a great eye, and I always get the highest ratings from my clients.”

“That’s wonderful. I’m happy for you. I know last time we saw each other it didn’t seem like it, but I was really confused about the direction my life was going. I wasn’t happy.”

“You’re happy now?”

“Very much.”

“Good.” You put your hand over his. “It’s all I ever wanted for you, to be the best version of yourself.”

“Same here with you.” He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. “I got some chocolate covered strawberries for dessert. Wanna move to the sofa?”

“Sure!”

You both sit down on his large sectional. You dive into the sweet treat.

“Do you entertain a lot?”

“Sometimes, yeah. I like it better than going to some stuff club. You can be out until four in the morning if you’re not careful.” He laughs.

“Well, I’d love for you to take me out to a club sometime.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice, love. I’ll take any excuse to dance with you.” His dimple peeks out in his grin, and it makes you melt. “When do you have to give them your decision by?”

“A few days. I’m headed back to New York tomorrow night.”

“How’s your hotel been?”

“It’s nice...not as cozy as this though.” You lean back into the cushions and look up at him.

“Yeah, I definitely don’t miss that about working in admissions. Different hotels all the time sounds like fun, but when you just wanna do your laundry and you can’t, it gets old really quick.”

“I can imagine.” You make a bold move and rest your hand on his knee. This time when you touch him he doesn’t shrug you away. “I think I may move here. I can home here and you can cook for me all the time, or you could bring me to your fancy parties.”

“Is that so?” He scoots a little closer to you. “It would get some people at the company off my back. They’re always askin’ why I never have a date to anything.”

“And why don’t you?”

“I don’t know, I’m there to work, not bring arm candy with me.”

“Ah, but that arm candy can help you network. I’m impeccable at networking.”

“Alright, so you’ll be my date then when I need one, is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s what I’m saying.” You smile.

“What about when there’s no fancy party? Can I call you for a date?”

“I’d like that.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I please kiss you?”

You nod yes. He leans in, cups your cheeks, and presses his lips to yours. They were soft, just like you remember. He takes them away a little too quickly for your liking though.

“What’s wrong?” You frown.

“I just don’t wanna, like, rush this, that’s all. I don’t even know what this is, but whatever it is, I don’t wanna mess it up this time.”

“Harry, you never messed anything up. We did the right thing before. I think we’re both in a place where we could have room to be together again. But, I think you’re right, one step at a time. Let me actually accept the job and move here before we dive into anything.”

“Exactly.” He sighs happily. “Okay, I’m gonna kiss you again, and then I’ll drive you to your hotel.”

You giggle as he smooches you again and again. Harry never really ever stopped loving you, and you could tell. You never really ever stopped loving him either.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles angst

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