#but yeah i have to find a ~real job~ since i’ve graduated college and i have ‘skills’ (not actually though) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

violet-kink-rambles · 2 years

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Pt 1 | Working Late Too Often

Femme Feeder x Gender Neutral Feedee Themes: Workplace Setting, Weight Gain, Bribery, Intox, Stuffing, Public Stuffing, Soft Feedism, and the occasional Hard Feedism

Word Count: 4714

This is a slow burn story! I have no idea how many parts will be in this, but it will speed up over time. This part is just getting everything set up and some solo stuffing in the second half. No promises on when the next part is out, this was done over a few days but I've been in the mood to write lately so yeah :) Last thing before we start, nothing in this story is relevant to my real life except the starting dimensions and that I work in coding and graphic design. Use whatever names you want, you're the one reading it!

So I had just graduated college recently, it took 4 years of my life and more money than I wish to mention. But one of the things they forget to mention about computer science is just how long you’ll be sitting down every day. From 6 hours of classes to another 4 hours minimum at home to get your projects done you’re spending the majority of those 4 years sitting in front of a screen. Some might shy away from comp sci because of that alone… but that was one of the appeals for me. You see, I’m a bit of a fatty. I’ve never been super in shape, I’ve been on the thiccer side for as long as I can remember. But college reallllyyy made me blow up a bit, I went from a modest 6’3” and 225 to around 310 in only a few years! Sure I noticed it creeping up on me but to be honest… I kinda like it! I've just been eating what I want and waiting to see what happens.

My friends and family on the other hand have been on my ass about the gym and have kept offering me diet advice for the last couple of years now. Lately, it seems like the pressure has dropped off and they are finally accepting that this is just what I am now. Thank fuck for that, they just don’t get how hard it is to work out when you have to sit down for the majority of the day. After struggling to find a job for the first few months after graduation I finally got an interview at a mid-size startup! The pay isn’t great but the office offers decent benefits and they also offer meals at the office. Sure that can be kinda toxic since it encourages you to stay late but hey I’ll take what I can get. On the morning of the interview I was getting dressed to head out when I realized that I don’t have a proper fitting outfit, my shirt is taut against my torso and it was a bit uncomfy around the arms. And the pants… the fucking pants. I felt almost like a sausage casing, I was able to cover everything but there was no way I was gonna be able to hide how fat I am. Begrudgingly I picked up my bag and left the house, swearing to stop at a store to get a new wardrobe after the interview.

On the drive over I couldn’t help but feel hungry. If you know anything about America(especially Texas) then you know that you can't drive more than a block or 2 in town without seeing some restaurant or fast food place. As well as the pinnacle of fast food, the greatest to ever do it. Speckled all across the state like a fuck ton of salt on a table you can get food from the tastiest, most consistent, and most bang for your buck place of all. Whataburger, the bane of every fatass in Texas. It's hard not to stop there when the burgers are as big as your head, swapping fries for onion rings at no extra cost, and the drink sizes being pushed down one size. A medium is 32oz, and the large at a whopping 44oz, while a 2 liter of soda is 67oz. For $10-13 a fatty can be full with some great southern comfort food. I really wanted to stop but if I did then my outfit would be even worse! Deciding against it and just going hungry, I pull into the office parking lot about 10 minutes later and try and hype myself up.

“Ok V, you got this shit, light fucking work! You’ve done more leetcode over the last year than you thought you would in a fucking lifetime! You’ve got your degree, and you’ve done everything you can. If they don’t wanna hire you then it’s their loss!” I got out of the car and sauntered over to the building brimming with confidence despite my tight outfit. When I got inside and up to the 4th floor where the office was I saw this cute receptionist, your stereotypical brunette woman with a little bit of extra meat on her bones. She was on a call so I just waited for her to finish. A glance around the room gave me some high hopes about the environment I might be working in. On the wall a big mural of what appears to be a shaman meditating atop a hill, the grass closest to him overgrown compared to the rest and speckled with flowers. It just calmed me down a lot because it made me feel like personal growth is important here. But then all of a sudden the woman behind the counter greeted me.

R - Receptionist R- “Hey! What can I do for you today?” Me- “ Hey! I’m just here for the 2pm interview for the programming position you guys had listed” R- “Ah gotcha! You’re a little early but she should be ready for you, just head down the hall and knock on the 6th door to your right” Me- “Thanks! Hopefully, we will be working together soon :)” Walking down the hallway I’m really liking the aesthetic of this place, some off-white walls with an almost rosy black trim. You can just tell there’s been a lot of money put into this place from all the furnishings. Off to the left, I see a large open room through the glass wall, a lot of spacious cubicles, and what I can only describe as “groovy” corporate artwork on the walls. It’s an open-concept office, with not a lot of closed off areas except the personal offices to my right. After getting to the 6th door I take a deep breath and knock, before hearing a sweet sounding voice call out “Come in!” Opening the door I see a beautiful office, a bunch of personal items, books, and a MacBook with stickers on the back on her desk. But the real knockout is the woman in front of me. A powerful looking woman with ginger hair to right above her shoulders, her body tight and built, dressed in a rose/peach pantsuit looking like it had just been steamed and ironed that morning. She’s extremely well put together, while I on the other hand am stuffed into an outfit that probably stopped fitting well a few months ago. I only took a glance at her before she greeted me, and I reminded myself I'm in interview mode. Gotta nail this and land the job.

Int- Interviewer Int- “Hey you’re the 2 o’clock right? Have a seat :)” Me- “Yep that’s me! Hope you’re doing well today :) I have a booklet I brought with me that has all my certifications if you’d like to look through it” Int- “Sounds good! My name is Kirsty, it’s nice to meet you :) What’s your name?” Me- “Ah sorry that was rude of me, my name is Violet :)” Kirsty- “Haha don’t worry about it, this field is full of introverts so I’m used to it” I set it on her desk and sit down, hearing the chair groan ever so slightly my face flushes red. Fuck I hope she didn’t hear that. She glanced through the booklet and asked me a bunch of the typical interview questions, then the technical part of the interview came along and instead of taking the full 45 minutes I was provided I finished the coding problem in about 20.

Me- “Ok, I believe I have it right. I’ve accounted for all exceptions and the code is running smoothly. No hiccups.” Kirsty- “Well that was fast! Let me see”

She takes the laptop and looks at the code for a few minutes while asking some more questions. I keep noticing though that it doesn't really look like she’s looking at the screen. It seems like she's looking just to the side of it, her desk is pretty big so maybe I'm wrong? Not really sure

Kirsty- “This is some concise and.. tight code, some good notation and comments, you meet what we’re looking for and from talking with you I think we can work well together” Me- “Wait really? So I have the job??” Kirsty- “If you want it, it's yours :) We just have some paperwork to do and you can start the monday after next ” Me- “I- I’d love to accept this job, I’m just surprised since I've heard so many horror stories in college about people having to do like 30 interviews to land a job even when they met all the requirements” Kirsty- “Well you aced the technical portion, you have all the certificates required and then some, and you’ve been a pleasure to talk to. You’re not too shabby Violet :)” Me- “Th- Thankyou :) I don’t know what else to say”

After that I read through and signed the paperwork then left Kirsty’s office, she told the receptionist to give me a tour of the office so I can see where everything is. While taking the tour I learned the receptionist’s name is Heather and she led me through the office introduced me to a few people I'll be working with, and showed me where everything is.

Heather- “You know.. I’m a bit surprised, we’ve been trying to fill that position for months. To be honest I had seen your resume this morning and write you off immediately, straight out of college and you landed this. I don’t know what you did there but you obviously did something right.” Me- “Wait really? All I did was get the technical part done quick and show her my certificates” Heather- “Everyone does that, she gives you 45 minutes but it should take only 30 at most” Me- “Oh.. I guess she just must’ve liked my energy then, either way, I got the job so the specific reason doesn’t matter to me.” Heather- “Yeah well… oh well you’re right. You got the job so who am I to question Kirsty. Are there any more questions you have about the office?” Me- “Just one, I heard there was a no limit kitchen here. Like you guys provide meals and stove tops, is there actually no limit to using those amenities?” Heather- “As long as you hit your deadlines you can even watch Netflix at your desk, we only care about results here… We’ll if that’s all you got for me then I’m gonna head back to my desk” Me- “Can't think of anything else, thanks for the tour :) See you in 2 weeks!”

And with that I left the office, I don’t think it had hit me at that point that I got hired. It felt so surreal! But when I got back to my car… I saw my reflection in the driver's side window. my fucking belly was hanging out the bottom of my shirt ever so slightly, bunching around my midsection in a way that made my belly button outline really noticeable. Me- “Are you FUCKING kidding me??? God dammit V. This better have just happened. I swear to god if I just did an interview and an office tour in front of everyone like this I’m going to toaster water myself.”

After getting in my car and driving off I hear my stomach growl. I know I shouldn’t eat after what just happened but at this point I’m starving. I pulled out my phone and opened the Wingstop app, like 6 months into college we were hosting parties and sporting events at our apartment. Wingstop is perfect for that, everyone pitches in and you can get so many wings it's unreal. I racked up so many reward points that it's become a staple in my diet. After looking at the menu I order my usual, just a 10pc with fries, and a drink. “You know, this is a time to celebrate.. I'm gonna have to buy new clothes anyways.. fuck it” And that's when I see it, the deal of a lifetime. $17 for 20 wings, 2 large fries, and 4 sauces. That could last me for a while, I considered swapping it with what's in my cart but.. What if I didn't? Would it really be that bad? I've got 2 weeks anyways.. And besides, it's not like I'm gonna eat it all tonight.

After adding it to my cart and getting the delivery started I headed home. 45 minute wait, I cleared out my fridge last night, I just haven't gotten to the store lately so the rations are low. Still stoked about the job but my hunger is giving me tunnel vision at this point, and that's when I see it. That beautiful orange and white building, it's weird almost tent-like shape off in the distance, Whataburger. As I get closer to it I'm fighting in my head, “Yo Wingstop is gonna take forever, fuck it why not?” while the other side of me is trying to be reasonable since I just ordered like 30 wings and 2 large fries. Needless to say, I ended up pulling in, I've just been eating more recently and It's not as if this will affect me too much at this point. I pull into the drive-through and get a patty melt meal, it's one of their smaller sandwiches but that doesn't mean anything when compared to another fast food chain. It's 2 big patties probably a ¼ pound each with cheese served on Texas toast. I also got my drink and onion rings as well with my order. After going through the drive-through and paying I couldn't help myself and had to eat some onion rings on the way home. Sipping on a massive dr pepper as I do so. Once I got home I hurried up the stairs, still having about 25 minutes until the Wingstop should get here.

As soon as I get inside my apartment I turn on the TV and open Netflix on my phone. After finding a show to watch I screencast it over and get to work on the food. The patty melted steaming hot and so greasy on the first bite that I just knew it'll sit heavy in my belly. I had finished the onion rings in the car and was a little disappointed, but decided to just get the large onion rings next time. The Whataburger is on the way home from the office so I can only imagine I'll become a regular there. It's not an exaggeration to say that one meal from there can feed you for a whole day. For a normal sized person that happens more than you'd think. Within 10 minutes I was already starting to sip my drink dry, I just couldn't stop eating… but I'm still hungry. I just sorta went on autopilot and munched away. Realizing I still had about 15 minutes until the wing stop arrived I got out my rolling tray and rolled up a joint. It's sort of becoming a habit lately but what can I say, it makes the world a bit less gray and also makes food taste soooo much better. I grab my dr pepper and head outside a couple of minutes later after it's rolled.

Walking out onto my dingy little balcony that's actually just a window you fold up and can take only one step onto I look over the city around me. Will I still be here in a year? Will I move into a better place? Will I get some stupidly big promotion and move into a high rise? Or something in between… While I'm out there I look back on what's happened today. I got a job! Like a real adulting job! I'm nervous, anxious, and excited, but ready. It seems like a great environment with great people, I just gotta do what I can to prove I belong there. After going through almost all of the joints I get a notification that the Wingstop is here. I run on over to the door quickly to make sure my neighbors don't take it. Let's just say my apartment complex isn't exactly a place for blue collar workers. Hell, my dealer lives 1 building over and he's got a decent amount of competition here. I take the Wingstop inside and set it on the counter. I knew that I'd have some of it later when the munchies kicked in but for now I was gonna finish that joint. Out on the balcony again I just realize that everything is gonna work out, everything is fine and I finally have the chance to prove myself!

After finishing the joint and closing the window I head on over to the bathroom to clean up a bit and get these clothes off of me. I hadn't thought about it but my clothes were a LOT tighter now than this morning, my figure in the mirror catching my eye and forcing me to pay attention to it. I didn't want to admit it but this was another sign that I needed to just accept it. For whatever reason… I like being fat.. i really like it.. I've tried to understand it for a while now and I've tried going to the gym, anything I could do to be normal. Most people aren't like this. But whatever the reason, I just need to accept it. I start fondling my belly, pinching it, grabbing the bottom roll, and then lifting it and dropping it. It just moves so.. gracefully. So unlike anything else I've seen. I took off my outfit and the speed at which my shirt buttons separated was almost scary. But I'd be lying if I said it didn't make the situation fluster me even more. My belly falls an inch or 2 lower and jiggles back and forth, the recoil drawing me in for a short couple of seconds. Undoing the pants wasn't any better. The moment I undid the button my fupa sprung forward, immediately filling the space where my zipper once was. After stripping down to my underwear I got unbelievably horny, the sight of my body sent me into heat and made me hungry as well. The thought of being even fatter floods my mind and makes me salivate. Instinctively I begin to caress and jiggle my belly, the soft dough-like mass giving way to my hands at the slightest push.

I snap out of it after another 20 seconds and remember the Wingstop, it hadn't been long at all since I chowed down on the Whataburger but at this point, I didn't care. My lust and yearning for hedonism were in full force tonight and I wasn't about to deny myself this feeling.

I hurry over to my desk in the living room and open one of the drawers in my sectional. I've been saving some weed gummies for a rainy day, to be honest, I didn't expect to use them for something like this. I just know that if I eat one or 2 of them then my appetite will be insatiable. I'll just be able to keep going and going. As I pop one of them into my mouth I can't help but be happy that I got an extra Wingstop, this is a day to celebrate and I might as well go hard with it. If I'm gonna do it then I'm gonna do it right. I start digging into the bag and pull out all the boxes of food. Laying it out on the table I see that I have a bit of a challenge ahead of me. 30 wings, 2 large fries, and a bunch of different sauces. I then open up my fridge and refill my dr pepper from Whataburger.

I already know that I'm gonna have a food coma by the end of this. No matter how long it takes, I am going to eat everything in sight. I have already resolved myself to that and there was no way my horny brain was gonna go back on that. After getting a plate and stacking it tall with about half of the food I turn my show back on. Carrying everything over to the couch the weight of all the food is intoxicating. Just knowing that I'm about to put multiple pounds of food into my belly and bloat myself up with what's basically just pure sugar is making me so filled with lust that the moment I sit down I dig in immediately. The speed at which I'm eating would make you think I hadn't eaten in days. As I'm eating I can feel all of the food slipping down my greedy maw, coated in so much sauce that it slides down with ease. If someone saw me like this they would probably be aghast, horrified at the spectacle of pure greed and gluttony before them. But I just kept going, I haven't paid attention to my show for at least a few minutes. I just kept going with reckless abandon, I didn't care about the consequences, I didn't care about how full I was starting to feel, all I cared about was getting the next bite of food down. My stomach becomes redder and redder, eventually, I feel the pain kick in, only a few chicken wings left and about half a large fry… And I still felt determined to eat more, I had already eaten enough for many people but I just couldn't stop thinking about finishing my plate.

After rubbing my belly for a few minutes I get back to work on the plate, I’m eating slow and just sipping on my soda at this point. The pain and pleasure mixed together to send me into a euphoric daze. As I get to the last bite I’m feeling more pain than pleasure, it feels like my skin is stretching and tearing. When I swallowed the last remaining wing slathered in honey mustard I moaned loud and hard. The pressure inside my overfed gut is immense, but I know that I have something left, the soda. About a third of my drink is left and I’m sluggish, while slowly sipping the remaining liquid it feels like my belly is getting more solid. My hand grazes over it and makes me wince in pain when I press down just a little too hard. The images of Roman royalty grazing on food being brought to them by servants cross my mind, the thought of their lives and how great it would be to have someone feeding me overwhelms me. I drain the remaining soda and set the empty cup down, it falls over onto its side as I had just let my arm fall away from me. My whole body feels heavy and tight. It feels like one wrong move could tear me open. But it felt like pure bliss, like nothing in the world really mattered except for this right here.

Over the next couple of hours, I top myself up with wing stop and soda until I notice what time it is. It’s almost midnight and there are only a few wings left, so I open the sauce containers and get to work. The prospect of all the excess calories running through me is winning and I'm not stopping now. I’ve been stuck in this gluttony driven daze ever since I got back to my apartment, whatever came over me has complete control at this point.

“oook.. ughh alright, I gotta hic lay down” Through all my little groaning and moaning I pick up the to-go box and lay down with it. Propping it atop my belly and preparing myself to finish it off. Through slow and labored bites it all ends up going right past my greedy little lips and down my throat. Even my soda was almost empty now, the sugar high mixed with the meat sweats surely about to send me into a food coma. As I got to the last wing I could barely taste it, the pain in my belly was so prominent that I could barely hear the show on my TV. But as the final wing passed down my throat I had an awakening in me. Pure hedonistic bliss erupted from my body, the dopamine centers in my brain working overtime. I was already subtly rubbing my belly trying to relieve some pressure but now I couldn't help but shake it. Each motion up and down gave me instant gratification, it was as if my serotonin was on a faucet and I could just get more whenever I wanted. Every breath made my body feel tighter and tighter as I kept fondling this surprisingly hard softness.

“Oooh.. god damn. if I knew.. overeating could do this to me… ughh,, I'd have done it a long time ago” I'm not sure how much time had passed at that point, but I didn't care. Focusing on anything else just seemed like a waste of time and I wasn't sure how long this pleasure was gonna last. I kept fondling my body for a while and eventually remembered I had just a little bit of dr pepper left. It already felt like my belly was going to rip open at any moment, but about 10 cautious sips later it was all gone… I couldn't believe how much food I ate. Sure I had gone to the bathroom a couple of times since the interview and freed up some space, but still.. A patty melt, onion rings, 30 wings, a fuck ton of fries, and more soda than I wish to remember. It was dark out by this point so this had to have taken almost 6 hours. Taking a glance around the room I spot my rolling tray on the table. There was no way I could roll a joint right now because of how sluggish I am but thankfully I have my pipe. I tried to scoot back a bit to prop myself up more but every movement was making the pressure in my stomach higher and causing me to almost pass out! Deciding against trying to move out of my fresh couch divot I swing my hand over to the table and get ahold of my pipe, extremely proud of my stoner etiquette. If you don't know, if you don't have to hide your weed it's good to leave a fresh bowl of weed after you smoke. Saves you time and you'll still know if someone smoked your shit since it's a fresh bowl.

That's beside the point though, after bringing the pipe to my lips I realize how hard it's gonna be to get a proper hit. My breathing was already very labored and short by now, but I had already gotten this far and it wasn't as if I had any plans that night. Even if I did… they'd be canceled, for one there's no way I could go, and two this feels wayyy too good. The first hit made me cough hard, I could just barely hit the bowl. Take as deep of an exhale as I could muster, I then hit the bowl again. Over the next couple of seconds, I could feel all the food packed into my belly pushing back against my lungs. With a quick exhale and setting the pipe back down I was sure I would cough but I didn't. All I felt was my brain swelling with thc, instinctively I began to massage my belly and began just thinking to myself. groaning “It'd be great to do this more often.. I don't see why not?? The job pays well enough to afford the food! And besides… if it makes me feel this good then it's more of an investment than anything else right? It's not like it'll be a daily thing so I'm not gonna THAT fat right? I'm pretty big already but if I just do some cardio on the days I don't eat like this maybe I can stay this size?”

Not too long after some more caressing of my swollen belly I drifted off to sleep.

#violet stories #intox feedee #weight gain #glorifying obesity #again no promises on when the next is out

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milo-is-rambling · 1 year

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Hahahahaha love when trying to talk about my emotions with my mother and why I’m struggling to connect with her and I’m spending every day in my room and not with her it turns out the reasons she doesn’t want to be around me are bc she doesn’t want to talk about feelings and I remind her of my dad and she is sick of not being happy and I am apparently one of the only reasons why she feels like she can’t be happy and also I need to clean up around the house more and find other friends because she can’t be my everything and she also told me to just back off and I am pmsing and just want to curl up into a ball and cry for like six hours. My mother only likes me when I am ignoring my feelings my mother only likes me when I am keeping the house clean my mother only likes me when I am on the verge of killing myself. I feel like I’m working my way up to being a normal person and obviously I’m stalling but once I get a job and start saving and move out I will be locked into the capitalist nightmare where I will work until I am in pain and old and sick and dying and only then will I have real free time again and I’m trying to savor it because I didn’t go to college and I dropped out of high school and I’m probably never going to get a job that will pay me enough to actually retire or even spend a month off again. Like. Fuck. The world is a nightmare and my mother won’t shut up about sex and strange men and I am thinking of my father today because it’s the fucking haha funny weed number day and I am just like him and our neighbors (dads friend) mom said “doesn’t she look just like him?” the other day and I don’t think I’ve been normal since. I am just like my father and mother resents me for it. My brother is just like my mother and she wants nothing to do with him. I said something about maybe he’ll move back in with us after graduation and my mother was all like don’t say that we don’t want that and like girl I fucking do want that for the first time in my fucking life I like my brother and all you can say is how badly you don’t want him to move back in with us. Maybe I want a family? Maybe I want people who fucking like me or at least pretend to like me. Maybe I just want someone in my life who will joke around with me and watch tv and do shit without mentioning the seventeen fucking men they’re flirting with or talking constantly about going on dates and not being home and yeah I’m fucking happy for her but can’t you just shut your mouth for one fucking day and not talk about what guy you’re going out with when and maybe don’t make jokes about having your fuck buddy come over and smoke weed in the hot tub on the day I associate so fucking heavily with my father can you just not make jokes about replacing the one fucking man in my life who knows how it feels to be like me. Can you just not. Can you fucking not. God. Fuck. I feel like I’m falling apart and isolating and I’m fucking miserable and at the same time I’m the happiest I’ve been in months and every time I want to be around my mother she wants to talk about men and I am just so fucking over it and she keeps saying well maybe this is the new normal for me and it’s taking everything in me to hold back from saying that I don’t want anything to do with that. Can’t she separate her children from her love life. Like fucking hell. I just want a mother who is only my mother again. I miss when she was just my mom and now we are both real full people and it feels like we have nothing in common anymore except our shared grief over a shitty man and it is just exhausting. And now she’s all happy and I feel like when I think about dad I have no one to talk to about it bc I don’t want to disrupt her fucking growth and she doesn’t even know that I’m falling apart and I just can’t do this shit anymore with her something has to fucking change and she would be happy if only I was different so the change that needs to happen is with me I need to change in order for her to like spending time with me again. Fuck. I’ll shower and get dressed and go to office depot and try to get a job. Fuck.

#she just texted me asking if I wanted to go with her to therapy tomorrow so looks like I’ll be doing that #I want to curl up in an open grave and rot away #life makes me feel sick to my stomach and the idea of living for like anything more than three years from now makes me nauseous #I’m going to eat my bowl of cereal with my big headphones on and then I’m gonna go get ready to go to Office Depot and try to get a job

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noctumbra · 3 years

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𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥

summary ─ you took a deep breath and opened your mouth to answer him when the idea struck you. his offer.

pairing ─ bestfriend!bucky barnes x reader

warnings ─ smut, +18, bucky is also the reader’s roommate, kissing, oral sex, making out, beard burn, dirty talk, sexy pictures, lingerie shopping with bucky, cam sex, OF accounts lol, friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, i don’t know shit about creating sexy content jsyk lmao, very light choking

a/n ─ inspired by this ask! spider nonnie had blessed us with this great idea. edits and yellings happened and here i am lmao thank you @nix-akimbo for the edits, i drooled and screamed and had to change my panties:) hope you like it! please leave a comment if you do! thank youu!! (pictures i used for bucky are edits from, again, @nix-akimbo <3

p.s.: so sorry for the delay! enjoy 5.2k words of filth! pls let me know what you think

It was sort of an off day for both you and Bucky. After having to deal with all the exams and applying to colleges, today was a calm and relaxing day for you. Bucky offered to go somewhere where you could both just be outside and have a change of scenery after holing up in your rooms or dragging yourselves from one class to another. You agreed easily.

His choice was Central Park; he was claiming that some green and soil under your palms might do you good, and you couldn’t see why not. With a small picnic bag kind of thing, you went to Central Park and sat down on the thing sheet you brought from home. It was very nice out; the sun was smiling down at you people and there was a soft breeze. You could hear birds chirping, kids playing and dogs barking. It was peaceful.

“God,” you heard Bucky groan. “I could say ‘fuck it’ to going to college thing and live out here forever.” You chuckled.

“I don’t think you’d like out here very much in winter,” you said as you grabbed a strawberry and handed it to him. With a soft hum, Bucky took it. “Though I wouldn’t say no to the ‘fuck it’ part.”

Bucky frowned. “What? Why?” You sighed. It had been troubling you for some time now, and even though your parents said that they would be supporting you, you still didn’t like the idea of making them pay for your schooling.

“College is expensive as fuck, James,” you grunted quietly. “It’s expensive which means that I have to get a loan, and it’s gonna be a huge problem when I graduate.” Sighing again, you bit into the strawberry in your hand aggressively. Bucky didn’t say anything, opting to stay silent, you continued after swallowing the juicy fruit you just bit.

“I mean,” you started. “I’ll probably apply to some of the scholarships, but I doubt that I’ll get one. M’parents said they’ll help me, but I don’t wanna be a burden.” You watched Bucky changing his position. Your mind was racing to find some brilliant idea that was going to help you get through this money issue. Scholarships were very hard to get, you could work ─ it was more likely to be happen anyway ─ or you could just let your parents crush under your college bill. You snorted when a thought struck you, causing Bucky to give you a confused look. “I might start an OnlyFans account. Seems like it’s the only way to earn some real money to get through college properly.” Bucky grimaced for a second, and then his face got thoughtful. When he looked back at you, he started snickering.

“Okay,” he agreed, grinning. “But promise me that if you ever want to create content with someone, it’s gonna be me, alright?” You chuckled. You knew that Bucky had a crush on you during your first year in high school, but he was over it now was what he said a year ago.

“You just want to have an excuse to kiss and feel me up, Barnes,” you said playfully. Bucky shot you a cocky smirk, causing you to laugh.

“Joke aside, I mean it,” he said after your laughter died down. “Those kinds of things are dangerous if you don’t know your partner. So, I’m offering myself. You know me.” You nodded slowly. Deep down, you knew he was right.

“Yeah, well,” you murmured. “I’ll let you know if I ever decide to do such thing.” Bucky shrugged.

“You have my number, honey,” he said, giving you a soft smile. He had a dreamy expression on his face. You ignored the butterflies in your stomach that the pet name provided and pushed him back from his shoulder. He went down with a yelp.

“Stop thinking about me naked,” you grumbled. Bucky laughed.

It was a nice day.

Looking back, you probably should have taken him up on his offer. This year was your last in college, graduation was crawling close with every breath you took, and the closer you get to your graduation day, the more stressful your days were becoming. You were drowning in your loans, your rent and your share of bills were waiting for you to pay, your job at the library was on a shaky boat…

It was totally pure luck that you and Bucky were in the same college and decided to be roommates because dorms were too crowded and loud. He was understandable about your money issues, he didn’t have any problems with it since his family was actually rich. It was very nice of him not to force you to pay your part although it didn’t stop you feeling guilty about it.

“Earth to Y/N,” you heard a deep voice and jumped on your seat. Bucky was looking at you with a small smile, worry was waiting to take over his face around the edges. “You alright, honey?” You hummed approvingly, nodding at the same time.

“Just thinking,” you said, closing the book you’ve been trying to read for an hour now. “Got lost in my head.” Bucky didn’t say anything but continued to watch you. The worry was slowly taking over his face. “I’m fine, Bucky, really.”

“Look,” he started, “I’ve known you nearly for nine years now, so I know when something isn’t alright. What is it?” You sighed. You hated bothering him with your money issues because you knew that he was just going to offer to pay everything himself, and just let you be his roommate without having to pay anything ever again. You couldn’t have that. You also knew that he wasn’t going to let you go if you didn’t tell him what had been going around in your head.

You took a deep breath and opened your mouth to answer him when the idea struck you.

His offer.

You looked at him. The corners of your lips were curling upwards slowly as the expression on his face got more confused and worried.

“Why are you looking at me like you are about to kill me?” He asked, tentatively taking a few steps back. You grinned. You probably looked like a psychopath right now, but if he was still up to it, this thing was going to help you a lot.

“Do you remember the conversation we had in Central Park while we were still in high school? It was a week after the applications,” you explained. He frowned for a second.

“We had a lot of conversations that day, honey, be more specific,” he said, and you nodded. He was right. You’ve stayed there for hours and talked about thousands of things.

“We were talking about how expensive the college is and I said I might start an OnlyFans account? You made me promise that I’ll come to you if I ever wanted to create content with someone. Remember now?” You watched his eyes grow wide with a smirk.

“Um,” he stammered. “Look, I’m definitely on board with that, but I want you to know that I can cover you if you want, alright? Like, y-you don’t have to post pictures or videos of your body just to pay rent, I can handle it, okay?” Your smirk turned into a soft, fond smile.

“I know, James,” you murmured softly, “Thank you.” Then, you stood up from your seat and walked up to him. Your fingers trailed over the sharp cut of his jawline, nails scratching his scruff. “Even though the main reason of why I wanna do this is paying my share of rent and bills, but I won’t say no to get laid. God knows I need it,” you scoffed at yourself. “So, are you going to help me, James?” You looked at him through your lashes. You could see that his eyes darkening and feel his jaw twitching.

“You really want it to be me?” He asked. You nodded. Other than casual hook-ups, both of you were single, and you lived in the same apartment so, it was supposed to work perfectly. Bucky’s eyes darkened more like it was possible and stepped forward to press his body against yours. “We gotta set some rules,” he said as he brushed your hair back gently. You shivered. You’ve been this close before, he shouldn’t have been affecting you this much, but fuck him, he was.

“Okay,” you whispered. He smiled and leaned in just a little bit so that your lips would brush against each other. You gasped softly.

“Yeah, I know what you need, honey,” he whispered, and then smiled. Pulling back, he gave you a smirk. “Gotta go, but we’ll talk about the rules tonight,” he said and in ten seconds, he was out.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you let your body fall back onto the plush couch. Suddenly, you weren’t so sure about the whole thing because you knew he was going to ruin you for all the other men. “I’m fucked,” you whined.

Royally, you added in your mind and whined a bit more.

──

It was a week later when you decided to start.

Like he said, you talked about all the rules and things about what to do and avoid, and then you set up an account. Bucky went and bought a camera just for this purpose, and when you complained about it, he promised to use it for other purposes, too. After everything was ready, he took you out for a lingerie shopping.

“You’re already sexy as hell, honey,” he had said, “but we gotta make you look even sexier. I have an eye, y’know it, so I’m gonna help.”

Now, you were in a red colored lacy number with garter belt and fishnet stockings adorning your legs. You had shiny leather gloves that went up to your mid-upper arms. You decided to forego the shoes, and Bucky agreed. When you were done with putting on everything Bucky bought for you, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You looked fucking sexy.

“You ready?” You heard Bucky ask and took a deep breath. You couldn’t help but feel nervous because Bucky was about to see you in a fucking sexy lingerie. He was about to your ass in its all glory since you were wearing a thong. “Y/N?”

You got out of the bathroom before you could convince yourself to give up the whole OnlyFans idea, and honestly? The look on Bucky’s face made it damn worth it that you didn’t back out.

He straightened up from where he was sitting on the edge of your bed. His eyes went dark quickly. His face darkened, and you saw his lips parting before his tongue peeked out to lick his lips very invitingly. His now-almost-black eyes moved down and up and down again on your body, and he took a deep breath.

“Motherfuck, Y/N, you look so fucking sexy,” he grunted, it was actually very close to a groan, your brain noted. Bucky took another deep breath and held his hand out to you. “C’mere, baby,” he whispered. Shivering lightly, you walked up to him, taking his hand. His fingers wound into yours immediately, squeezing just a little, and he pulled you forward.

With a gasp, you fell onto his lap, arms wound up around his neck and his arms around your waist. His body was so warm, so solid and big under you, you felt like you were very close to fainting.

“Damn,” he whispered, “You were already beautiful, and now in this thing? Fuck me, you have no idea how gorgeous you look, love.” You whimpered just a little, scooting a bit forward on his lap, plastering your own chest to his. His white, wifebeater was only providing you a nice view of his bulging biceps and giving you a little peek of his pecs. His sweatpants, however, they were doing very little to hide… things.

“James…” You breathed. Bucky cursed under his breath and pulled back just for a second to reach behind you. You knew he started the recording, you knew that there would be a little red light blinking at you; you shivered. This was so unlike you, but you wanted to it. Wanted to do it with Bucky.

“Ready, love?” He whispered, and you nodded. “You know what to do if you wanna stop or take a breather, right?” You nodded again. “Tell me your safeword, sweetheart.”

God, you thought, he’s laying it thick on pet names. “Winter,” you whispered. He placed a kiss on the tip of your nose, making you chuckle lightly.

“Good girl, honey,” he whispered and it was fucking on.

He leaped forward to catch your lips with his, moaning loudly in relief when the soft skin of his lips touched yours, you arched into it. His hands were roaming all over your body, nails dragging lines and making you shiver, while his hands were occasionally grabbing your ass and slapping it lightly. You moaned into the kiss when you felt his tongue licking on your bottom lip, and you felt it slip inside when you gasped.

Bucky already had you putty in his hands, you realized, and you wondered what you were going to be in when he was done with you.

“Alright,” he said with a low voice. He gathered you up in his arms and stood, turning around, he placed you in the middle of your bed. “I’m gonna take some pictures, that okay baby?” You nodded, teeth already digging into your bottom lip. Bucky watched your face a couple seconds; his thumb saving your bottom lip from the abuse of your teeth and he stroked it slowly. You poked your tongue out to lick his thumb, and then closed your lips around the digit. “Shit,” he cursed. “Pictures,” he grunted as he pulled his finger out of your mouth. You giggled.

He grabbed his phone that was sitting on your bedside drawer. He did a quick work on opening his camera app and looked at you. “Turn around. Lemme see that peach, hm?” You felt heat licking all over your body as you gasped. Slowly turning around, you pulled your knees under you as you stretched your arms forward to grab the headboard. This position gave your back a beautiful arch, you knew it.

“Goddamn,” he whispered as he moved himself around to get a good light for the picture, and you heard the soft ‘click’ sound a few seconds later. You looked at him over your shoulder, lifting your head just a little. You heard another ‘click’. Smirking, also feeling that you were gaining some sort of self-confidence, you placed your knees apart from each other on the bed, spreading them widely.

“God-fucking-damn, sweetheart,” Bucky groaned. He shuffled and pressed ‘click’ a couple times. You buried your head in the bed and deepened arch of your back, wiggling your ass playfully. Bucky hummed. He reached out to grab one of your cheeks, to dig his fingers into the soft flesh, and you gasped with the sudden touch. Click. Bucky hummed again and slapped your ass lightly. You moaned, pressing against the touch of his large and warm hand, you lay down on your chest.

Bucky trailed one finger down from your crack to your pussy. “Soaking it already?” He asked, voice low and hoarse. Lust, your brain realized, making you moan. Bucky rubbed you there with his thumb, over the soft fabric, and his other fingers dug themselves into the meat of your ass. “On your front,” he said, slapping your ass again. Swallowing a whimper, you did as he said.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he whispered. You hummed and arched your back again, giving him a nice view of your chest. Click, click, click. Smiling, you lifted yourself up on your elbows. You could see that your effects for the pictures did not go waste: Bucky was hard and tenting his sweatpants. You lifted one of your legs in the air and pressed the sole of your feet to his stomach, right over his abs. You saw his cock twitching under the fabric, and your smile turned into a smirk.

“Drop the phone,” you whispered as you maneuvered yourself onto your knees, still facing him but also facing to the bulge in his sweatpants. Bucky did as you said and put the phone on the ground. “Lemme see you?” You asked next while pulling your gloves off. Bucky nodded and pulled his wifebeater off in a second.

He was a fucking god.

His beautifully tanned and smooth skin and taut muscles were blinking at you cheekily. You could see a faint happy trail leading to his cock. His arms were a bulging muscles and veins mess, and you wanted to trace those veins with your tongue.

Instead, you leaned forward and nosed his happy trail. His low groan and cursing were deaf to your ears because all you were focused on was the bulge that was touching your chin. You shuffled a bit forward and pulled his sweatpants down to his mid-thighs, making his cock slap against his stomach.

Thank fuck for Bucky Barnes and his love for going commando.

You’ve watched his dick swinging so many times when both of you were home. You’ve seen his dick both erect and flaccid through the thin fabric of his sweatpants. Finally, you were seeing it naked and all in display for you to play.

“Love,” Bucky whispered as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. He sounded turned on. Good, you thought and grabbed his cock. Nosing right under his cock head, you inhaled the natural musk smell coming off of him. You were so goddamn wet just by smelling him, you knew deep into your fucking bones that you were ruined for all the other men already.

Tongue poking out, you licked him clean with slow, kitten licks. Bucky cursed. He couldn’t tear his eyes off you; he watched you as you wrapped your beautiful lips around his cock, watched your tongue licking him from root to top.

Bucky was going fucking crazy.

“Y/N, holy shit,” he moaned when you took him in your mouth. His eyes closed briefly as he tossed his head back with the pleasure. You hummed and bobbed your head up and down. He felt so nice, so thick and full in your mouth; you never wanted to let him go. Bucky grunted when you swallowed around him. He was already so damn close, it was embarrassing.

“Baby,” he said. “I’ll come if you continue to do that again.” You made a soft sound. You wanted him to come in your mouth, but there was this whole video thing to go through, so you pulled off. Bucky, always good at reading you, stroked your cheek. “Some other time I’ll let you have it in your mouth, alright?” You nodded. He smiled. “Move up,” he commanded, inclining his head towards the bed. You scrambled to follow his order. You spread your legs as soon as you were in a comfy position.

“I could eat you up…” He whispered. He crawled towards you on his knees, sweatpants ditched already and he was naked. He looked up at you, his dark eyes boring into yours intimately. Bucky nosed your clothed core. “Maybe I should…”

Whimpering, you wiggled slightly. He chuckled. It was a dark sound that sent chills down your spine. He grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulder. Laying down on his stomach, he licked a fat line over the fabric.

“James!” You cried out. He rubbed his scruff covered jaw all over your inner thighs. His fingers grabbed the hem of your panties and he pulled them down, ripping them under the fishnet stockings and he threw them somewhere in the room. You gasped at the strength show. You could feel yourself getting even wetter. “Fuck,” you whispered. Bucky smirked. His tongue poked out to lick you clean.

It took you a second to realize that he was mimicking your ministrations on you. You let out a laugh which turned into a moan as the tip of his tongue nudged your clit. Arching your back, you grabbed his long hair. You knew he was good with his mouth; no mouth like his could be bad, anyhow.

“God, James,” you whispered harshly. He licked, licked, sucked and licked again, and you were going crazy. His beard was rubbing all over the slick and soft flesh, irritating the skin there. You were loving the fact that you were going to have some nice beard burn tomorrow.

Bucky slurped, licked you clean and flicked his tongue against your clit one last time before he pulled back. As much as he wanted you to come on his face, he wanted your first orgasm to happen on his dick.

You whined as he pulled back but purred in satisfaction when he laid on you, caging you under his big and muscle-y body. He was making you feel small and precious and honestly, you loved that feeling. It felt even better when it was Bucky.

“Lemme see them, yeah?” He whispered as he slowly peeled your bra off. Throwing it somewhere when it came off, Bucky didn’t waste any time to latch on to one of your nipples.

“Fuck!” You yelped at the sudden warmth around the delicate flesh, back bowing and chest pushing against his face even more with the new position. He flicked his tongue around, sucked and you felt his teeth nipping the flesh lightly. One of his hands was grabbing your other breast, fingers rolling the nipple. “Jaaames!” You whined, your fingers were still wound up tight in his hair. He hummed and pulled back with a pop.

“Fine,” he grumbled, turning your world upside down in a blink.

With a gasp, you were flipped around and were put on your stomach with your hips tilted up. Bucky’s knees were right outside of your thighs while your legs were as spread wide as they could. You could feel his hard cock right against your wet pussy, and you couldn’t help but moan and wiggle your ass a bit. Bucky groaned. His hips moved against yours, cock dragging up and down on your pussy as he reached for a condom. Both of you were clean and you were on pill, but he still wanted to make sure that you were not to get pregnant.

Bucky placed his hands on your waist and slowly moved them up and wound on of them in your hair. He made a fist, pulling them tightly to the side to expose your neck. You gasped and whimpered.

“Ready, baby?” He asked. You nodded. “You sure? Y’alright?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Yeah, ‘m fine, please.” Wiggling your ass against his cock, you moaned lightly. Bucky cooed at you softly, his free hand roaming all over your back in a soothing move. His fingers dipped into the holes of the stockings, ripping them just a little to make some room, and then he dipped his fingers inside of you. You cried out. Immediately clenching around the long and thick digits, you moaned.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Bucky cursed. “Tight as a fucking virgin, shit.” You hummed and canted your hips against him, practically riding his fingers. He made a sound of approval, removed his fingers and lined his cock up.

“Yes,” you moaned. “Yes, gimme!”

“Alright, love, don’t worry. I’mma give you what you need.” Swearing once again, Bucky slid inside of you with one slow thrust.

You screamed. Your back arched, hips tilted even higher and you clenched around his hard cock. Bucky cursed. His fingers were grabbing your hair tighter, almost making your scalp hurt, but you were loving the sting. You moaned and hummed as he started to thrust in and out. His pace was careful and slow, and remained like that until he deemed that you adjusted his length and width.

“God, shit, James,” you moaned. “You feel so good in me, so big…” Eyes closed, you threw your head back. Bucky responded your moan with his own. Just like you said, you felt so damn good around him. It felt like his cock was being wrapped tightly with hot silk. “Faster?” You asked, looking at him over your shoulder with wide eyes.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he let go of your hair and placed both hands on your hips for support. His hips fastened their pace. His balls, full to the brim, were swinging back and forth, occasionally slapping against your slicked covered skin. You were so wet that every movement of Bucky’s cock in you was making an obscene squelching sound. You could feel your thighs getting wetter with Bucky’s each thrust.

“James,” you whispered. “Fuck, James, ‘m close.” Your harsh whisper reached to his ear between the loud thrusts of his hips, and he grabbed you by the waist and throat to pull you up. You made a sobbing sound as the changed position made his cock drove in you even deeper. You loved the feeling of having him deep.

Bucky hugged you close to his chest; one of his arms was around your waist while the other was winding under your right arm, his right hand was loosely wrapped around your throat. You found the loose hand on your throat surprisingly grounding, and you sighed. Your hips flushed against his, you looked like you were sitting on his thighs in this position.

“Come whenever you wanna, love,” he whispered in your ear and placed a kiss on your cheek. The arm around your waist shifted on your hip, and he resumed his thrusts.

Having him way deeper was going to push you off the edge quicker than before, you could feel it. The tension in your belly was coiling with every single thrusts of his, your clit throbbing and your walls clenching around him; you were right there.

You sobbed. Your hands scrambled to grab any part of him; one of them wound up in his hair while the other grabbed the back of his thigh. “Yes,” you whimpered. “There!” You moaned when a little shift in his thrust lightened something up in you. “Fuck, ‘m─” Gasping, you swallowed the sob down. Your legs were trembling, pussy and stomach visibly clenching, you felt your nipples tighten up almost painfully.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky moaned loudly. His long hair was obscuring his face just a little bit, the ends of it tickling your shoulders. His scruff was rubbing against your neck, you could feel his happy trail against your ass, and with all these heightened senses you couldn’t hold onto your orgasm any longer.

You came on Bucky’s cock with a scream got trapped in your throat suddenly. Mouth wide open with a silent scream, your body convulsed and trembled against Bucky’s. If it weren’t his arms holding you upright against his chest, you would have collapsed face-first down on the bed, you knew it.

The spectacular fog of orgasm had covered your mind, making you vaguely aware of Bucky’s jack-rabbit thrusts. He was panting in your ear, hands tightened on your flesh and throat, you could feel his cock twitching in you. You turned your head to him lazily, still drowsy from your orgasm. Your hand on his thigh moved to his cheek to turn his face to yours.

“Come for me,” you whined lightly against his lips. You gave him a chaste kiss on the lips and whispered again. “C’mon, James, come for me.” Kissing him again, this time you bit down on his bottom lip and clenched your pussy around him tighter.

He gasped, his thrusts going mad as he moved his hips one, two, three more times before he stilled. Cock twitching, balls tightening up, he came inside the condom as his body crumpled forward. As he went down on the bed, he took you with him. Never letting you go, he cuddled you against his chest.

Five minutes later, breathing turned back normal, Bucky chuckled. “Goddamn,” he said and you grunted in approval. “You alright? Was I too rough?” You shook your head as you gave him thumbs up. He chuckled again. He rubbed your hips gently as he pulled out of you slowly. You grimaced as he did and watched him disposing the condom. He got off the bed, stopping the recording. “I don’t think this video will ever need an editing, but we’ll see I guess,” he murmured. He walked into the bathroom to grab a cloth to clean you up and himself, and then joined you back in the bed with camera in his hands.

“Shall we watch it before we upload it online?” He asked, brow cocked. You looked at him; his hair was a mess and his lips were red, his body had sweat glistening all over. He looked thoroughly fucked out, and you wanted to see him fucking you while looking like this for… who knows how many minutes. So, you nodded. “Alright,” he murmured and poked around the camera. You settled against his arm, head resting on his meaty shoulder. “Here we go…”

──

It was no surprise that watching fifty-six minutes of heavenly sex tape had led you to another round of sex. This time you riding Bucky into oblivion as he dirty talked the shit out of you.

At the very end, you decided to post the pictures first because Bucky was a bit hesitant about posting your very first sex tape online since it was ‘probably amateur’ and ‘you needed to get better a little’. You didn’t buy it, of course.

So, you cornered him only to learn that he didn’t want the video of you having sex with him the first time to be all over the internet, he wanted to keep it private. It was a very touching thought.

It only took Bucky to a little bit more cornering to admit that his crush on you back high school had never passed.

“Y-you… What?” You asked, feeling dumb. He chuckled nervously. “You have a crush on me ever since high school?” Feeling absolutely dumb, you kissed him on the lips. Bucky let out a confused noise but returned your kiss anyway. “You idiot!” You shrieked.

“What?” Bucky shrieked at you back. You kissed him again.

“I was depressed all those times thinking that you moved on from me!” You said, causing Bucky to freeze for a second. “I thought you moved on and I lost my chance…” You continued but more softly this time.

“Wait,” Bucky pulled back. “You like me back?” You nodded. He looked at you without blinking for a little while. “We are idiots. You’re in this shit with me.” You snorted as he rolled his eyes. But then, he leaned in to give you the softest kiss ever. You sighed happily. “So, are you up for a ‘congrats-you’re-an-idiot-couple’ sex?” He asked, face scrunching adorably.

Laughing, you climbed on his lap again and kissed him passionately as his answer. Bucky just moaned and indulged in it happily.

#bucky barnes x reader #bestfriend!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x you #bestfriend!bucky #bucky barnes au #shameless

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Honeybee

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: While attending Seraphina's wedding, Y/N discovers that her crush on her best friend’s older brother hasn’t gone away after all these years. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, alcohol consumption, fingering, penetrative/protected sex Word Count: 5.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: I know I promised a oneshot over the weekend, but I’m a messy, inconsistent bitch, so you get it a day late 😅🥰

———

Looking back, I was starting to wonder if Seraphina only got engaged and asked me to be her maid of honor just to witness my slow descent into a heaping puddle of lovesick mush.

Truly, it was pathetic.

Yeah, yeah, she was getting married because she loved her fiancé and whatever, obviously, but she was also using it as an excuse to try and get me to admit my feelings for her older brother. Feelings, I might add, that only surfaced when I was a middle schooler and went away once he went off to college.

Sure, I'd thought about him on occasion when he was inevitably brought up around Sera's house throughout the years, but that was it. I'd hardly say I was hard-core in love with him. And I was totally prepared to see him for the first time since our high school graduation.

At least, I thought I was.

And Seraphina—the little shit—knew it, too. The smirk on her face the moment we were all in the same room for the first time in ten years made me want to run and hide more than her brother's figure, right in front of me and hotter than ever.

I was mad. Not at Sera as much, because really there was nothing she could do about the fact that he was her brother, but I was mad at myself. Because how in the hell had it stood to reason that a man I actively didn't think about for a whole decade had this much of an effect on me after all this time?

Honestly? I blame the FBI.

If he'd done literally anything else with his life I probably could have made it. Well, not by much if we're being honest, but come on...

Where he'd been a bit nerdy and reserved as I knew him, the man in front of me had clearly changed. Not just physically, though that was also a pleasant surprise. He looked like he'd been through some shit... And he carried himself taller. There was a new air of confidence that perched on his shoulder and helped him along as he talked with old friends and family members at his sister's rehearsal dinner.

Spencer Reid was older and more experienced this time around, and somehow even more goddamn delicious...

I was a total wreck. And it was about to get a whole lot worse.

He was coming this way. Right for me. He'd noticed me staring at him all night, because I couldn't keep my shit together, and now I was absolutely doomed.

Guess it was a good thing I'd practically grown up with him and knew how to act outwardly.

Still, the moment he was up close and flashing me that little smile of his, I felt the pit of my stomach scream out loud, sending shockwaves through my bloodstream.

"Hey, Honeybee. It's been a while."

Fuck. That fucking nickname...

"Spencer... It has."

When we hugged briefly, I tried as hard as I could not to inhale his scent, knowing that not only was that pathetic and embarrassing, but also I'd never stop smelling it otherwise. I did take note, though, of how strong he was now. He wasn't a bodybuilder of any kind, but he was certainly less bony and more defined.

I had to hold back a whine as I felt him let go of me, because I didn't want to leave his warm embrace but also because I didn't think I could stand to look at his face anymore without losing any and all semblance of my cool.

Still, I let him release me, and even then he didn't go far. We only stood inches apart, and my whole body was practically numb at the proximity. It also didn't help that I had to tilt my head up to see his face— It made me feel extremely submissive, and I could already feel myself starting to shrink.

Whether he was amused at that or just at me in general, the feeling I got was the same.

"Sera tells me you've been busy..." He paused, seemingly searching for the right word, though I could tell he already had it on the tip of his tongue. "Modeling?"

I closed my eyes with a sigh. "It was one job for some obscure European magazine, no one in the country's probably ever heard of it... It's not that big of a deal."

Spencer huffed a laugh. "You sound embarrassed..."

How was I supposed to respond to that? If I lied and told him I wasn't embarrassed, he'd figure it out, and if I told him the truth? I'd still be screwed. Honestly, my best bet was changing the subject.

Though, maybe it wasn't— When I asked him about his travels for work, he ignored it and responded with, "Ah, so you are embarrassed."

"N— I am not!"

"You changed the subject so fast I barely had time to blink... There's nothing to be ashamed of, Honeybee, I don't know why you'd—"

"Look, dude, I'm not ashamed, and I'm certainly not changing the subject. We were on the subject of jobs. So there."

I was aware of how childish I sounded, but I stood my ground nonetheless. And thankfully Spencer seemed to let it go, though not without amplifying that amused sparkle in his eye.

"Okay... Well, I've got some more people to see, but, uh... I'll see you around. Maybe you can show me some of your work."

He didn't even give me time to protest. Though if he had, I was sure I wouldn't have been able to get any words out what with that goddamned face he had, twisted and sculpted into all these beautiful ways that were designed specifically to make me a blubbering hot mess.

I could only gather the courage to nod in response, though he'd turned his back and walked away by the time I got it out.

———

All things considered, I'd managed to avoid him for the majority of the wedding festivities. I focused all my energy on being happy to see my best friend get married, and likewise it seemed that Spencer was inclined to do the same.

He walked his sister down the aisle, and seeing them both so happy truly made my heart sing. To think I'd known them since we were all kids more or less, and now they were both successful, beautiful human beings... It warmed me to my core, and despite the other flames that stung my insides at seeing Spencer in his tux, thing were going swimmingly.

That being said, we were just about two hours into the reception, and there was absolutely nothing stopping me from begging Seraphina to put me out of my misery.

Except maybe pints upon pints of alcohol.

In hindsight, that may not have been a good idea, though. Because as much as the open bar had it benefits, it also hated me. It was mostly my fault, because I was stupid enough to forget that I get frisky when I'm drunk, but that didn't stop me from blaming the bartender for continuing to serve me.

I wasn't quite at the point of all-out inebriation, but I was definitely toeing the line between tipsy flirting and total disaster.

And when Spencer came over to ask me to dance, I knew I was doomed.

I didn't find myself caring about what he was saying, only the fact that he was there, in front of me, putting his hands on me and breathing in the same air that I was putting out. My entire body buzzed, and while I would have panicked otherwise, my tipsy brain welcomed the tingle and made me a bit bolder.

"You enjoying yourself tonight?" he asked, like he couldn't already tell that I was having the time of my life.

"No way. You suck at dancing." The joke rolled off my tongue with ease, a product of years spent teasing him for countless things.

And just like all those times before, he rolled his eyes and then immediately flashed an affectionate smile all the same.

I should have stopped there, maybe tried to do something a bit more romantic like teach him how to dance... Placing his hands and fixing his posture, taking the time to gracefully have an excuse for exploring his body with my hands...

But romance took a backseat when I pressed myself in even closer to him and hummed just under his jawline. "Mmm, but I bet you're good at other things..."

I felt his hands grip my waist just a little tighter, and his throat visibly twitched. "How much have you had to drink, Honeybee?"

"Spencer," I whined, pressing my face into his neck. "Don't tell me you're turning me down, please..."

I could tell by the way he was touching me, his hands wavering and undecided, and the way his heartbeat thrummed loudly and quickly against my own that he wanted nothing more than to entertain my desires.

The thought made me quiver and press further into him. I kissed his jawline tenderly, silently begging him to whisk me away and finally make me his, but it broke my heart a little to feel him peel away from me.

When he looked into my eyes though, I swore the gleam in his own is what put me back together. It could have been the liquor swimming around in my body that made me feel lightheaded, but when Spencer lifted my chin with his fingers and looked me over, I knew that wasn't it. It was wholeheartedly, without a doubt, him.

"Tell you what... You get sobered up by the end of the night, and maybe I'll come find you."

I wanted to nod, but his gentle grip on my chin held me steady—At least until he glided his fingertips down my throat and over my shoulder. Then I downright slumped forward with a whine and a weak nod that seemed to make him smile.

"Thank you for the dance," he said earnestly, leaning forward to press the lightest of kisses to my temple.

Just like that he was gone, and I wanted him back almost immediately.

———

And so the night dragged on, and the longer I sobered up the more it dawned on me what the fuck just happened— What the fuck was going to happen, too, if I played my cards right.

It didn't help that I could practically feel Spencer's eyes on me the whole time. Probably to make sure I really wasn't drinking anymore, a fact that only made this feel more real.

On top of it all, I was starting to lose count of the amount of men here who were trying to buy me drinks. Even if the one man I really wanted tonight hadn't given me a deal, I still wouldn't have accepted them, if only for the pathetic fact that I would have been trying to catch his attention instead.

So much for trying to convince myself I wasn't in love with him...

Was that really what it was? It had to be, right?

Either way, I was determined to find out, and that meant declining every flirtatious offer to drink and dance.

Unfortunately, Seraphina seemed to notice, even on the one day in her entire life she shouldn't have been thinking about anyone but herself. "You're not having fun," she pouted, plopping down next to me and handing me a shot. "Have fun."

I laughed and set the tiny glass down on the table. "I am having fun, I'm just... tired. And being hungover tomorrow does not sound fun."

"Mmm," she responded, visibly suspicious.

I didn't really know what to say to her to convince her not to be though, so I grabbed her hand and smiled. "You're having fun though, right? 'Cause I will not hesitate to kick someone's ass if you're not."

With a bellowing laugh mildly tainted with the smell of champagne, Seraphina squeezed my hand and leaned in close. "I'm having the best time. I couldn't be happier."

"Well, good. You deserve it."

After a small moment of silent shared smiles, my best friend glanced over elsewhere and then back to me with that look in her eye that kind of scared me.

And her words were even scarier... "So, you talk to Spencer at all tonight?"

"Uh— Yeah... Briefly."

"Mhmm... Y'know, I saw you two dancing together earlier. You seemed reeeally close..."

There I was, getting defensive in front of a Reid sibling for the second time that night. And just like before, I was awful at being subtle. "Sera, stop it! It was just a dance..."

"Bullshit! He had his hands all over you, and he had that gross-ass, dreamy-ass look in his eye! He so wants to sleep with you!"

"Sera!" I gently shoved her and tried not to smile at the goofy smile she had plastered on her face.

"Am I wrong?"

"I... I don't..."

"Ha! I'm not wrong!"

The defeated look in my eye did nothing to disconfirm her story.

"So, what's stopping you from letting him?"

I went wide-eyed. "Se—You... You seriously would... You're okay with this? It doesn't... gross you out?"

There were a lot of things I could have seen Seraphina do in that moment, but pinching and yelling at me were not any of them. "Y/N! You idiot! I've been trying to get you two together for years! If I knew all it took was me getting married, I would have accepted Theo Decker's proposal..."

"Wa— In fifth grade? Sera, that wasn't—"

"I know, but you get what I mean! You two are so painfully attracted to each other, it physically hurts me. It's actually disgusting, but if it means there's a chance that you might get to be my sister? I say go for it."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You... You really mean that?"

"What, you think I'd joke about that?"

Everything that she conveyed to me within the look in her eyes, her words, and the squeezing of her hand over mine told me she was sincere.

"I love you, you know," I told her just as sincerely.

Her smile was as radiant as ever, but the teasing tone in her voice was enough to make me scowl again. "Right back at'cha, Honeybee. Just do me a favor and don't tell me any details. I don't wanna know."

I stuck my tongue out at her, followed by a short shove. "Oh, and as soon as you get back from your honeymoon? I'm kicking your ass for telling him about that nude shoot I did for that magazine..."

She only grinned. "Why? I think I did you a favor..."

I rolled my eyes at her, but in the end, I guess she was right.

———

I shouldn't have been pacing. Really, it was pretty fucking embarrassing the way I walked in circles around my hotel room, waiting for a knock at the door or a text message on my phone, or something to let me know that Spencer had really meant what he said and was on his way to come find me.

I didn't have a single drink after we danced, and I swear to God, if he made me go through this entire night all nervous without the liquor to calm me down, for nothing? I was going to kill him tomorrow.

Later today... Whatever.

The point? I was well and truly ready to feel him taking up my personal space, and I was going to feel like a real idiot if I waited around and prepped and everything, only for him not to show. The funny thing was, it was almost two in the morning, and I would have stayed up until the sun rose for him.

Thank God he had the decency to save me the trouble.

A short two-rap knock on the door made me jump, but I ran at it full-speed, flinging the large wooden panel open and letting its momentum blow cool wind over my body. And I needed it, too.

Because standing right in front of me was Spencer Reid in all his semi-exhausted glory. His outfit was loosened, buttons undone and bowtie untied, hanging limp around his neck. His hair sat wild atop his head and a thin layer of sweat coated his skin. Maybe that last part sounded gross, but looking at him? It was anything but.

Especially when he flashed me that damned smirk. "Someone's eager..."

I tried not to sound as dumbfounded by his presence as I felt. "Well, you made me a good offer I couldn't refuse. Excuse me for being excited."

"And here I thought all this time you hated me, Honeybee..."

"That would be easier, wouldn't it?"

His grin transformed into a full-on beaming smile then, and it only made my skin feel warmer and my heart beat faster. I returned his smile with my own, so genuinely happy to see him again after all this time, and with the brightest show of happiness I'd ever seen.

Turns out, smiling like a lovesick idiot was all I was capable of.

"Are you... gonna let me in?"

The low suggestive tone in his voice had me springing into action, stepping back and allowing him the space to come in. And though he had plenty of room, Spencer still decided to brush his body over mine as he passed. His eyes bore into my own as he gently kicked the door shut and enveloped us in a dimness that came from cheap hotel lighting.

Still, I was unable to speak, and hardly able to even breathe, with each passing second.

And then, his hands were on my waist, pulling me to him with a softness that matched the whisper in his throat as he said, "C'mere..." Looking up at him then, his fingers burning holes through the thin fabric of my dress while he looked back down me, eyes swimming in tender desire... It almost didn't even feel real.

And it certainly didn't feel real when he leaned in, one of his hands coming up to touch my face while the other pressed me firmly against him.

The moment his lips touched mine, I was gone. I positively melted into him, so much so that it felt like I was just becoming a part of him entirely, losing myself in the moment and unwilling to let it go.

Even when he sighed against my lips and parted his own to kiss me deeper, I just followed suit and let him take the lead. We moved together as one, fluidly and with as much eagerness was possible. I'd wanted to get a taste of him for so long, and he obviously felt the same way, what with the thorough and precise exploring his tongue did with my own. It shot warmth throughout my whole being, and my legs threatened to buckle underneath me from how weak they felt.

Spencer seemed to understand what was happening to me, because as soon as I'd thought it, he was just as quick to literally sweep me off my feet, scooping me up bridal style and carrying me over to the large bed in the middle of the room.

"I know we're at a wedding and all, but geez," I laughed, watching as he laid me down gently and crawled over my body. "A little much?"

He only rolled his eyes. "Well, excuse me for trying to be romantic..."

"Mmm, I think you're just being an overachiever. As per usual."

That remark earned me a pinning of my wrists above my head, and the fire that erupted in my very core at my current position only cemented that this was very real.

Spencer grinned, his hips coming down to roll over mine teasingly. He spoke nice and slowly, his voice slicing through my soul like smooth butter. "Oh, Honeybee, I'll show you an overachiever..."

Once again I was rendered speechless. Not like I expected to be talking his ear off or anything, but words genuinely escaped me.

Luckily, Spencer didn't seem to mind. In fact, he knew exactly what to do next, and it made me even hungrier for him than ever before.

He captured my lips in another dizzying kiss, his hands still flexing over my wrists to keep them steady. I moaned softly and writhed against him, and though I would have liked to say that it was a conscious choice to coax him to give me more, really it was just me being unable to handle the fact that this was actually happening.

Actually, if not for the overwhelming and familiar scent of him, I would have thought I was only imagining it.

But alas, here he was in all his floral peppermint glory, grinding his hips down into mine and kissing me like I'd never been kissed before, driving me mad with each adept movement.

Thankfully he seemed to get as lost in the moment as I was, because he loosened my wrists in his grip, and I broke free, flying my hands in between us and down to his belt.

His lips pulled away from mine with a soft smack, a smile forming smugly upon them. "Have you no patience?"

As my fingers fumbled with the metal and leather, I pressed my nose to his and quickly pecked his mouth. "I thought we already established that I have no patience the moment I opened the door..."

"Fair... But still..."

Spencer grabbed my hands again, moving them to my sides and then hiking my dress up slowly. His skin was hot against my own, and it took everything I had not to break down begging for him.

And then he spoke again, his lips barely grazing mine as he did. "Teasing you is so much fun..."

I couldn't really explain what sound escaped me then, but it reminded me of a disgruntled animal, erupting from my throat and getting muffled the moment I took my hands and brought his face to mine. I kissed him fervently as his hands matched the intense nature of my affections— With every soft groan I gave him, he returned it with an inch higher up my leg, until eventually he was toying with the hem of my underwear.

Unable to take it anymore, I gave in and mumbled the most desperate plea I could think of. (Like I had to think that hard...)

"Spencer, please..."

I half expected him to tease me again, but this time I felt him tremble over my body. His fingers slipped under the satin of my underwear and he sighed into my mouth. "God, how could I ever say no to you..."

No sooner had the words left his mouth did he spread me apart with his fingertips, getting a feel for me and a broken sigh falling from his tongue and onto my own. I captured it and kissed him with as much precision as I could while under the influence of his hands working wonders.

Truly, his hands hand a magic of their own that should have been considered as an eighth Wonder of the World. They flexed in all the right places, splitting me open and caressing the most sensitive parts of me, simultaneously breaking me apart and putting me back together...

God, and those was only his hands...

The thought of what else he had waiting for me made me cry out into his mouth, though I'm sure it also had to do with the fact that his fingers were curling expertly inside me and summoning an orgasm that I knew would satisfy us both.

I almost cried out again when his lips left mine, but then they travelled to my neck and paid it the most glorious attention. The alternation of his fingers and his tongue on different spots of my body had me in shambles, and it took no longer than a few seconds to snap.

"Fuck, that's my girl," Spencer grumbled into my neck, helping me through my orgasm. "That's it, honey..."

What I wouldn't have given to hear him talk to me like that until the end of time... His words, their tone and praise seeping into my skin and bringing my soul to life... Coupled with his soft hands and his even softer breath fanning over my neck, I was just about ready to ask him to keep talking to me, to say my name and never stop.

He pulled away though, removing his hand from my lower half and bringing it up to his mouth, and I had the feeling my request wouldn't be a problem.

Spencer's eyes rolled back and his tongue gathered my arousal off his long, well-endowed fingers. And though I could hear his groan well and clear, I felt it more than anything. It reverberated through my body and brought me more to life in a way I never thought imaginable.

No one had ever made me feel that way with one single sound, and that's how I knew.

I thought I knew it from the start—from when we were growing up—that I wanted to be near him forever. But It was always just a silly dream, something I was never quite able to reach, and as I got older and we rarely saw each other, it got harder to even imagine anymore.

Now I didn't have to imagine.

Spencer Reid was right in front of me, touching me, tasting me, verbally praising me with sounds I'd only ever dreamed of...

I wanted him to have his moment, because I was positive he'd wanted this just as much as I did, but this sappy sort of revelation I was having made it nearly impossible to not be utterly wrapped up in him, and I wanted more.

So I wiggled and adjusted myself underneath him before grabbing his hand and placing it over my heart. His eyes widened softly at the sight of me, and I knew then that he was taking the time to memorize my face, and the image of his hand resting at my chest, right where my heart was encased beneath bones, flesh, and fabric.

"I could look at you forever," he whispered then.

I would have been ashamed to admit that I whimpered when he said it, but the way he looked at me afterwards made me feel the exact opposite.

He smiled, using his other hand to come up and touch my face. "You want it bad, don't you, Honeybee?"

I didn't even argue with him this time. My head nodded and my hands reached out to pull him closer. "I want you... More than I've ever wanted anything."

Before he leaned down to kiss me, I could have swore he looked like he was going to shed a tear. The duality of him, his ability to be all teasing and cocky one second and then reduced to a lovesick mess at just a few words from me the next, made my heart sing.

And it kept singing, a sweet, steady melody as Spencer kissed me and touched me like he meant it.

Only this time, he didn't pause or tease me with theatrics. He went straight for the kill, fetching a condom from his pants pocket and then sliding the material down, all while keeping me trapped under his embrace. I welcomed it naturally, humming happily into his neck and jawline and anywhere I could reach as he got us both fully undressed and situated, until finally he had the condom on and his hands rested nicely on either side of my head.

"Promise not to sting me?"

I laughed, draping my arms over his shoulders and flashing him a wink. "Mmm, only if you promise to give it to me good..."

"Deal."

He slowly pushed into me then, and the stretch was far more satisfying than his fingers, though I was in no position to complain either way. If he was even half as skilled with his hips as he was with his hands (which I had no doubts about whatsoever), then neither of us had anything to worry about.

It didn't take long for us to find our rhythm, but I didn't have time to think about that. I was so consumed with just the feeling of him being everywhere that technicalities didn't matter.

That being said, the technicalities were really fucking good.

His hips snapped into mine with sharp precision, and I felt it deep within my bones. My cunt clung around him willingly and accordingly, as did my legs, which hooked over his waist as I dug my heels into his ass.

Meanwhile Spencer grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head again, this time interlocking our fingers and then leaning down to kiss me deeply. It was met with my undying welcome, of course, but with the way he was fucking me, deep and with a devotion that nearly exploded my heart, I couldn't help but whine out for more.

His name was all I could manage.

"What do you want, Honeybee?" he cooed, holding himself deep inside me and grinding his hips in small circles that made it harder to breathe.

"M—More... I..."

"Can you be more specific?"

How he could be such a cocky little shit in this moment I wasn't sure, and it frustrated me to no end. He knew damn well what I wanted, and I knew just the thing that would make him give it to me.

I have him the biggest pout I could, also whining out the most pathetic, "More," in my arsenal. And with a roll of my hips up into his, I gasped out at how deep he got, and whined out again.

"Spoiled brat," Spencer grunted in defeat, retreating only to slam into me at full force.

My small gasps and cries turned into full-blown howls of searing pleasure as he fucked me then. My head tipped back and my back arched slightly, exposing my neck and chest to him, and he took it as an invitation to lean down and put his mouth anywhere he could reach. I was sure there would be small nicks and bruises littered over my skin the next morning, and just thinking of everyone seeing them, seeing Spencer's mark on me, made it harder to prolong the inevitable.

I came with a shout, flexing my hands into his as my body tensed then relaxed, over and over while he whispered praises into my skin. He followed soon after, shoving his face into my neck and muffling the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard as he came.

By then his hands had loosened, so I snuck my own away from his and brought them over to hug him close. One hand knotted into his hair while the other grazed over his back. The thin sheen of sweat forming over his skin once again was more enticing than it probably sounded, but I loved it all the same. I felt him relax and bring his arms down to rest at my sides, his fingertips dancing lightly over my skin and giving me goosebumps.

Then out of nowhere, he said something that confused and mildly panicked me. "I thought you said you wouldn't sting me..."

I pulled away to try and look at his face, loosening my grip on his body. "A—Am I hurting you? I'm sorry..."

He laughed though, peppering tiny kisses up my neck until he got to my jaw. "You're not hurting me, Honeybee... You've just... stung my heart, that's all."

"I... Is that a bad thing?"

"It's a strange thing..."

He looked at me like I was the one thing on the planet he adored, but his words sounded different.

I raised an eyebrow. "You're not helping me understand..."

With another laugh, Spencer Kissed my cheek and rolled off of me, settling for laying on his side and turning me to face him. "Do you remember how I gave you your nickname?"

Despite my confusion about all of this, I entertained him with a huffed laugh. "Yeah, I spilled honey all over my shorts without realizing it, and I had ants all over me in a matter of minutes. I was terrified."

"I was highly amused."

I shoved him. "Yeah, dork, I know you were! You and Seraphina both thought it was the funniest thing on the planet, and then your mom had to come out and spray me down with a hose before I came back in the house."

Spencer barked a laugh, and I wanted to punch it right out of his mouth.

"Tell me again why this is relevant to our current situation?" I reminded him with and sigh, already over his antics.

Thankfully he seemed to take pity on me; He reached a hand out and played with a strand of my hair, smiling even brighter than when I opened the door for him. "That's when I started to feel it. You were just... so cute all angry at me and Sera for laughing, and it... It changed everything."

"You know, that would be more romantic if I hadn't been covered in bugs," I responded with a laugh.

"It's true! And it confused the hell out of me, because how was I supposed to cope with the fact that I actually had a crush on my little sister's best friend like some stupid cliché? You were always so feisty after that, too, and it certainly didn't help... And when I graduated and went off to college, I thought... I thought there was no chance you would ever be able to break the heart you'd managed to steal."

He swiped his thumb gently over my bottom lip and smiled, his eyes going all tear-y again. It sent butterflies through my whole body.

"I would never even dream of breaking your heart, Spencer..."

Our foreheads pressed together then, and the unwavering adoration in his voice when he spoke made me forget all prior confusion and minor embarrassment over re-living our origins.

All that mattered was that he was here, holding me in his arms and making me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

"I know you won't, Honeybee."

———

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Text

Always You | JJK (Five)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 12.1k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?) sad oc, mentions of sex, kind of over the clothes action, drama, heated dance session lol, slight memory of sex, hair pulling, back scratching, mention of boner, second chances (?)

Notes: Okay, first of all THAT 1st TEASER PIC!!! DID WE SEE THAT? *chefs kiss*. Anyway thanks for comments you guys leave I really love reading them!!! Remember to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:) have a great week everyone!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch

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May

Gloomy: The dictionary may describe it as hopeless and despairing but really it should just be a picture of your sad, sad face.

1 month…yes, one whole month has passed since you last spoke to Jungkook. No text, no calls, no random show ups, nothing. Gloom. Gloom. Gloom. Graduation came and gone so quickly…you walked the stage with your friends minus two but honestly you can hardly remember the event. You tried your hardest to be as excited as everyone else but the feeling of gloom stayed with you.

By the end of the month you finally started accepting he isn’t coming back and right around that time you actually heard from him—Jungkook that is. He sent you a pathetic text that he’s moving out and will be by to retrieve his things. More gloom.

The next couple weeks after that are a blur, you recall the sound of movers throughout your apartment. You didn’t have the courage to speak to him…you didn’t have the courage to even leave your room if you didn’t have to. You were so wrapped up in everything you didn’t even consider that fact that you will have to find a new roommate to cover the other half of the rent.

Every day just dragged on, every day a repeat of the last. Wake up, drown in black coffee, scroll mindlessly through your phone and work your full time job. You called in sick too many days already so you have to go or you’re at risk at getting fired. The same day, every day. The same gloomy fucking day.

Jimin tried to call or text every day to make sure you were like, alive. He apologized over and over for not telling you as soon as he found out about the Taehyung situation but he felt that if Taehyung was going to tell you then it is best it comes from him and not Jimin. You can understand that. He also frequently would show up at your apartment to surprise you but you rarely let him in. You did feel bad though, he’s just trying to be there for you.

Jimin 6:04pm

Please let me in?

Jimin 6:05pm

Well…I have some take out for you babe, ill leave it on the doorstep.

Jimin 6:05pm

Call me sometime ok? Love you

Guilt would consume your body but you just couldn’t deal with human contact right now.

June

Around month 2 you finally felt okay to see people again—your close people that is—aka Jimin was finally allowed in, he made you take a hot bath while he cleaned up for you and made you a proper meal. The amount of instant ramen containers lying around the place was by far one of the grossest things he’s seen. The shit that was growing…he shudders just thinking about it.

He would come over every day after work in the evenings. He left day time babysitting to Trina.

“Girl…all this over a boy?” she would constantly say.

You also tried applying for job after job, but the postgraduation life is harder than you thought…at least for you. Jimin landed a job as a kids choreographer, Trina starts up at one of the local elementary schools as a kindergartner teacher and you? You’re still working at the bakery down the street. You applied for many entry level positions in the marketing field but failed miserably in interviews…which only further discouraged you and worsened your mood.

It was also around this time you decided to finally delete Jungkook off all social media and block his number. You refuse to hear from him at this point…not that he was reaching out or anything. You wonder what he’s up to postgraduation? No, you don’t want to know or care. You considered hanging up a picture of his face on your wall so you could throw darts at it but you decided that was maybe on the crazy side. Taehyung sends you weekly texts, asking about how your day/week is going. He updates you on his life as well, apparently he got the curator assistant position at the museum that he wanted. You still feel hurt over everything but you are happy for him. It’s funny, you feel so betrayed over that but Jungkook is the cause of your gloom.

Every day just drags on, you feel heavy everywhere you go. Even when you’re just at home in bed.

By the end of the month your friends somehow convinced you to go on a date—a horrible date at that.

He was awkward as hell, a bad kisser and would lightly…tap your ass in attempt to be sexy. It was a disaster, you don’t even remember what the two of you even talked about at dinner. You just remember his tongue being horribly shoved down your throat and his weird ass tapping habit.

July

Then month 3 finally came around. A month where the weeks went by breathing became just a bit easier. Yes, any and everything still reminded you of Jungkook but it didn’t hurt as terribly as the previous months. By the end of the month you even agreed to your first real social outing. You are hesitant, but you agreed…

“I don’t know guys…a birthday party? We like, don’t even know the girl?” you frown, nibbling on the flesh of your bottom lip.

You are sitting in the middle of your bedroom floor, clothes piling all around you as you try to decide on what to wear.

“You need to get out babe…plus it’s a friend of a friend, so it’s cool.” Jimin says holding up a rose colored crop top, motioning for you to nod yes or no to his suggestion. You cock your head to the side, deciding what pants to go with it.

“I have to say I agree with Jimin, y/n.” your new roommate Holly chips in, “Since I’ve moved in I don’t think I’ve seen you go out even once.”

“Also a party is the best place to find some easy dick.” Of course that’s what Trina has to offer.

“Yes to the crop top Jimin.” You point your head towards the shirt, “Okay don’t have to call me out like that Holly.” You glare at your roomie, “And Trina, we both know I ain’t ready for no type of dick.”

“So we’re looking for some pussy tonight?” Trina smirks, “Nice.”

You rolls your eyes, a chuckle escaping your lips, “Shut up.” you throw a pair of shorts at her face.

“But seriously y/n…Maybe Trina is on to something…” Jimin sits down next to you, crossing his legs in front of him, “Maybe this is a good chance to like—”

“If you say move on I will literally kill you.” You cut in, “There’s nothing to move on from!” you throw your hands up dramatically. “Taehyung used me, Jungkook wants nothing to do with me. And—”

“Then why aren’t you ready for any type of dick?” Holly puts in her 2 fucking cents.

“Because I don’t want to be associated with any boys! Jimin is the exception.”

“Somehow I don’t feel flattered by that…” Jimin puts a hand on your shoulder.

“When’s the last time you got off?” Trina abruptly asks. You turn your head in shock at her shamelessness.

“Trina!”

“Answer her, I’m curious too.” Jimin squints at you trying not to laugh.

“It’s…” your eyes slide to the side, “It’s been a while.”

Trina shakes her in disapproval, “Damn girl, really? My fingers constantly playing DJ, you know what I’m sayin?” Trina goes in for a fist bump but you just push her hand away.

“You’re gross.” You laugh out loud, and it sounds like music to everyone’s ears.

“I’m just real babey.” She flicks her hair back with a proud smile on her face.

Having these 3 around has no doubt helped you deal with the loss you feel. You feel like you are still mourning the dead. How’s Jungkook even doing? You’re too afraid to ask Jimin. Too afraid that he’s doing amazing without you. He must of realized how much better off he is without you around and that makes you feel small.

“Fine…” you mutter under your breath…Jimin snaps his head to look at you, his sly smile growing as he watches you fiddle with a short mini skirt.

“Fine what?” Trina asks with a smirk.

“Let’s find me some dick tonight.”

“Hell fucking yeah.” Jimin claps his hands together, “Tonight is about you!”

“y/n makes her debut tonight! She’s hot, she’s single and she is ready to mingle!”

You can’t help but giggle, your hands bunching up the material of the mini skirt as you look down at it, making your decision.

“Let me get ready and we can get this night started!” you rush to your feet, all the sudden feeling excited for tonight. You are going to actually do your hair and your makeup—you even shaved. You are definitely breathing easier tonight and you have to take advantage of that!

“Let’s do shots as we wait girlies,” Holly shows a bottle of rum she had hiding behind her back, shaking it in excitement.

“Naughty girl.” Jimin winks, standing to his feet, heading towards the kitchen to grab some shot glasses.

You get ready quickly, but taking your time where it counts. You give yourself a once over in the mirror and you have to say you are impressed. Your black jean mini skirt sits right below your ass, while your tits pop in this rose crop top. You wear short heels, and simple jewelry with just the right amount of makeup that makes your features stand out, and you have to say you would kiss yourself if you could—you look fucking good.

“woooooo” Jimin and Trina whistle out at the same time as they walk back in your bedroom.

“I’d fuck.” Jimin says plainly.

“Same as fuck.” Trina says bluntly as she swallows down a shot.

“Yeah you look pretty y/n!” Holly smiles, not really on the same level of honestly as your other two friends.

You burst into giggles, throwing your head back in approval. “Thanks guys…..Lets fucking do this.” You walk towards Trina and grab her shot glass, and you take the bottle from Holly, pouring yourself a shot.

“Ready to fucking mingle.” You gulp down the rum, the burn only encouraging you, the warmth stinging your entire chest and you couldn’t feel more content.

This house was one of the bigger ones, it was full of people and more people and like, more people. You managed to swallow down 3 or 4 shots back at your apartment and the alcohol is definitely working its magic on you, the world just a little nicer.

The amount of people doesn’t even bother you like it usually would, instead you find yourself barging through the front door and making your way to the dance floor with your 3 friends trialing behind you.

The heat of the living room is already intoxicating you, the amount of bodies rolling and grinding makes you feel loose and free. Before you know it Jimin is pushing a drink into your hands and you hug him gratefully as you begin chugging it back.

“Woah slow down, we have all night—actually fuck it, I like your spirit tonight!” he chuckles lightly, his hands going to your waist, rocking you to the beat of the blaring music. Trina and Holly disappear into the kitchen to grab more drinks while you and Jimin dance to whatever b…t…ah, forget it, you forgot the band’s name.

“Are you having fun?” Jimin slurs out, his eyes barely visible as he laughs at nothing.

“So much fun!” you yell out over the music then you lean down into his ear and whisper, “Thanks so much Jiminie…I know I was a little difficult…”

“A little?” he teases.

Jimin’s eyes travel behind you before they are widening. You notice, of course. You are about to turn your head to take a look at whatever he is seeing when his snaps back to you in panic, his troubled smile growing.

“Let’s go find Trina and Holly, yeah?” he tries to usher you toward the kitchen and you oblige. Too drunk and feeling too good that his odd behavior goes ignored by you.

“Kay!” you smile, hooking your arm with his. “Letsa go!” you say like you’re fucking Mario.

The two of you walk to the kitchen, finding Trina and Holly playing a game of beer pong with two random guys.

“Hello my bitches!” Trina hollers over the thumping bass, as she scores a cup of pong, her other hand on Hollys lower back.

“Wait, gotta use the bathroom, be right back!” you slur into Jimin’s ear, he just nods distractedly as he watches the game, laughter erupting his body for probably no drunken reason.

You walk back into the living room and start heading towards the other side where the bathroom is. The journey to the bathroom is fun, you accidently bump into a lot of people but they don’t seem to mind as they will just drunkenly smile at you and you would smile back in your own drunken daze. You skim the room with a dopey smile on your face, just admiring the crowd. You are shocked with yourself…you missed people and you cannot believe it. You continue to observe when your eyes land on tattooed hands. The hands are grabbing a handful of ass on the dance floor. You know these hands. Your eyes travel from his hands to his strong arms to his face…it is hiding in the nook of some girls neck and you feel like someone knocked the wind out of you. Jungkook.

He is kissing on some girl, no doubt leaving bruises behind from his attack on her neck. His hands cupping this girls ass so tightly, he guides her hips into his. You watch as she throws her head back in pleasure and you see him smirk. All his signature moves. You are left speechless. What could you even say? Why does this hurt? Why does this make you feel fucking sick? Why does it feel like you aren’t supposed to be witnessing this? Well, you know why but god, why?!

“y/n!!” It’s Jimin, jogging up behind you, “Fuck, I was trying to avoid you seeing this…” he admit softly, “I swear I didn’t think he was going to be here tonight…he didn’t seem that interested when I asked him about it…”

“It’s fine Jimin…” you mumble.

“Does it feel weird? Seeing him with this girl…?” Jimin is obviously trying to get you to admit something right now but you are not in the right head space to even give it a second thought.

“Why should it? Plus I’m used to this…she’s just some random girl for one night.” You twirl the ends of your hair between your fingers.

“Oh babe…” Jimin glances down at the ground, “This girl…she…he’s brought her to every party for the last month…” Jimin sounds as sorry as you feel.

The same girl? That’s impossible, you scoff. There’s no way Jungkook is actually seeing someone. But that doesn’t stop your stomach from twisting and turning and making you feel fucking sick.

“What do you mean?” you finally slur out, leaning your frame on Jimin.

“He brings her and they leave together too…” Jimin holds on to you, “I haven’t really asked him about her though.”

“Whatever. Fuck him, right? I won’t let this ruin my night.” You smile coyly, draping your arms around your friend. “Bathroom please.” You pout theatrically, pointing your head towards the bathroom.

“Okay let’s get you peeing in peace.” Jimin laughs, guiding you towards the door.

Once at the door, you knock a couple times to find that it is empty, “I’ll wait for you out here.” Jimin assures you.

Once inside the small room, you bunch up your skirt and pull down your panties, squatting on the toilet. You sigh in relief as you pee, but the relief you feel in your body stops when you recall the way Jungkook held and kissed this random but not so random girl.

Why should it bother you? It’s about time Jungkook got serious! But why did he have to dump you to achieve that? And why did It have to be with someone el…

You reach for the toilet paper, ripping it after a few sheets and wipe yourself as you drunkenly sing a tune. So what? You can easily replace Jungkook too!

You stand up, pulling your panties up and your skirt down and take a long good look in the mirror. Your hair is still intact, your makeup is only a little smeared—quick fix, and your tits are still poppin’. This night is just beginning, you decide. A whole new wave of confidence begins washing over you.

“Ready!” You pounce on Jimin’s back, he stumbles forward while laughing wholeheartedly.

“Should we look for Trina and Holly again? They’re probably still playing beer pong!”

“Sure.” You smile, walking hand in hand with Jimin as you make your way back to the kitchen.

Hours pass and you are now outside on the back porch piss drunk with your 3 friends and a couple new friends. Nick and his pal that you can’t remember the name of—but you remember Nick. He’s really tall and has nice muscles covering his body, his light hair is messy and looks like you would have fun pulling it.

“And that’s why I think aliens are already here bro, like they are probably here at this fucking party bro.” No name friend finishes his point. Nick holds in his chuckle as his drunk friend rambles.

“Totally bro.” Then his eyes land on you. Fuck, were you staring? Oh well, it’s best to get to the point. You two have been making eyes at each other all night and it’s time to make the next move.

“Hey Nick, wanna grab a drink with me in the kitchen?” you inquire with a sly smile.

Jimin’s eyes widen before he’s smirking “Don’t be silly, wrap that willy.”

Trina and Holly laugh at Jimin’s words while you turn fucking red with embarrassment.

“Sorry about him…” You excuse Jimin, but you continue to smile slyly.

Nick grins with all his teeth as he takes your hand and leads you back inside the house. His hand is much larger than yours and you are already imagining what his beefy fingers will do to your vagina. God, what’s his dick like???

You enter the kitchen and you and him walk towards the cooler full of beers, he lets you stand to the side as he goes to grab them.

“Nick!!!!” you hear a familiar voice and you wince. Jungkook stands next to the cooler, his hand wrapped around the girls hand, but he briefly lets go of it to dap up your fuck for the night.

“What’s up bro!” Nick returns the handshake, a wide smile on his face.

They know each other?

“I thought you said you weren’t coming tonight?” Jungkook’s hand goes back to holding on to the girl.

“I wasn’t going to but,” he nods towards you, “Glad I did.” He winks. Jungkook’s eyes follow Nicks nod and when he sees you stand there awkwardly he goes completely pale. Your eyes meet uncomfortably, Jungkook let’s go of the girls hand without a second thought.

“y/n?” he questions with a pained expression.

“You know her?” Nick asks, totally out of the loop.

You shift from one foot to the other, not really sure what to do or say. So you settle for his name. “Jungkook.” It feels foreign on your tongue. Like if you said it 3 times in a mirror a sinister ghost would come to murder you.

Jungkook opens his mouth then closes it then opens it then closes it again.

“Baaaaabe,” the girl next to him whines, “let’s get out of here already.” She says, not even acknowledging your existence.

Jungkook shamelessly eyes you up and down, his shock is very evident as he looks at you.

You can’t help but smile a little, knowing you look damn good.

“Let’s go too, Nick.” You saunter to his side, grabbing a hold of his bicep.

That’s when Jungkook knocks out of daze, his brows crease as he looks between the two of you.

“Wait—you and Nick?” he asks, completely amused.

“Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” Jungkook looks fucking smug as he smiles, his hand going to grab the girls hand again. “See you later?” he asks you. You of all people! “Uh? Probably not?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Jungkook winks, turning around to leave as he leads his girl out.

Nick just continues to smile, completely oblivious, “So cool that we all know each other!” he grips on to your waist.

“Wait, how do you know Jungkook?”

“We—”

“Wait, it honestly doesn’t matter. Let’s just get out of here.”

“My place?” Nick breathes into your ear, he pushes your hips into his crotch so you can feel his half hard cock.

“Why are you already getting hard?” you tease, leaning up to kiss his neck.

“Honestly, I can’t stop staring at your tits. And I am imagining all the things I want to do to them.” He confesses hotly.

The uber ride to his place is short, only 10 minutes and it goes by quickly as you two have one another’s tongues down each others throats. His hands traveling all around your body, he even manages to slip his fingers past your panties to feel how wet you are.

“Fuck I can’t wait to get you inside…” his rapid breaths fan across your face as you nibble on his neck.

“Gonna fuck me?” you whisper quietly, not trying to get heard by the Uber driver, but you could also hardly care if he hears you or not, he gets 5 stars.

“Want you to ride me.” He palms his cock through his pants as he imagines you bouncing on his cock for him.

“If you deserve it like a good boy.” You replace his hand with your own, rubbing him ferociously over his jeans. You haven’t felt dick in months and the feeling is driving you absolutely wild, you haven’t felt this needy in a long time.

The Uber comes to a stop, parking in front of an apartment building. He lets the two of you know you reached your destination. You and Nick giggle as you thank him and stumble out of the car as you follow him to his apartment. He would stop every few seconds to plant kisses on your lips and grab your ass with a tight squeeze. He groans and rolls his eyes back as he explores your body.

“Wait til we’re inside,” you breathe out, your voice silky as hell.

Finally, after a short, kiss filled elevator ride later you arrive at his front door. His lips never leaving yours as he pulls out his keys, fumbling with them until he finds the right one.

He pulls away for a second to unlock the door and desperately pushes it open to let the two of you inside. Your lips are already back on his as you two trip into the entry way of the apartment, you walk him backwards, until his back is against a wall.

The apartment is dark besides the living room TV, you take a second to pull back and admire Nick’s fucked out expression, the blue glow of the TV making everything feel surreal.

You dive back in to kiss him, he prods his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around with yours making you moan into his mouth.

“Hi guys!”

Your eyes shoot open, mouth still attached to Nicks. You push your head back, disconnecting from Nick and yank your head to the left where you see a wild Jungkook sitting on the living room sofa, his mouth full of the cereal he is eating. He is wearing the most shit eating grin you have ever seen on him.

“Jungkook?! What the fuck?” You spit out, totally fucking shocked. Like, obviously.

“Hey man…” Nick breathes out heavily, trying to speak properly, “I thought you would be at Vanessa’s tonight?”

“Nah,” Jungkook smiles, “Dropped her off and came home.”

HOME?

“H-Home?” You look between the two guys, what the fuck does he mean by that. This is Nicks place, right?

“Oh you didn’t know?” Jungkook nods his head toward Nick, “Nick here is my beloved roommate.”

“What the fuck…” you mutter under your breath, trying to understand the mother fucking situation. Were you about to fuck Jungkook’s roommate? Are you still going to is the real question?

“Wait, how do you two even know each other?” Nick starts to look antsy, “Don’t tell me she’s one of the girls you’ve fucked…come on bro, leave some for the rest of us.” He chuckles somewhat bitterly.

“No!” you’re quick to say. You begin smoothing out your skirt, then your hair. “We just…”

“y/n is my bestie!” Jungkook grins, putting the cereal down and standing up. He walks forward until he is making a triangle with you and Nick.

“Was.” You spit out harshly, crossing your arms across your chest. Nick just stands there confused as hell, looking between the two of you.

“Anyway, I should get going.” You turn your body to Nick, a look of apology on your face.

“What? We can just go to my room?” he slurs, tugging on his pants uncomfortably, his boner still apparent.

“Sorry, no longer in the mood.”

You pull out your phone to order an Uber when Jungkook takes your phone from you.

“I’m not drunk, I can drive you.” He offers. You push your head back in disbelief, how does Jungkook have the AUDACITY to offer that to you?

“Why the fuck would I want that?”

“So we can…” His eyes slide over to the ever growing confused Nick, “Talk.”

You haven’t spoken to Jungkook in 3 months and today is finally the day you are able to breathe a little easier and he just has to barge back in.

“Like I said,” You snatch your phone back from him, “Why the fuck would I want that?”

Nick shifts around uncomfortably, his eyes darting from you to Jungkook.

“Well, I am gonna head to my room…uh, bye y/n…it was nice meeting you…I guess…”

You and Jungkook both turn your heads toward Nick at the same time, eyes shooting daggers at him.

“Yeah, bye.” Jungkook dismisses his roommate, his jaw clenching.

“Nice to meet you too…”

Nick walks backward until his back meets his bedroom room, he looks at the two of you one last time before turning around to disappear into his room.

“I said, let me drive you home.”

“And I said, why the fuck would I want that?”

“y/n don’t choose now to be difficult.” Jungkook takes a step closer to you, his hands running through his dark, messy hair. His eyes shut in frustration, “I just want to talk to you.”

“And I don’t want to talk to you.” You take a step back, “Plus, how would your girlfriend feel if you took me home?”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow, his mouth setting in a firm line.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Could of fooled me and like, everyone else.” You scoff.

Jungkook bites down on his bottom lip, not knowing what to say. While she’s not his girlfriend she’s also not not his girlfriend. It’s complicated.

“Can I please, just please, can I take you home?”

“No, Jungkook. The fucking audacity,” you scoff again, “You haven’t spoken to me in 3 months,” your voice fucking cracks and you feel like dying. “Don’t start now.”

“y/n…” he runs another frustrated hand down his tired face, “I didn’t mean for it to go this long…” “I don’t fucking care, Jungkook.”

You feel your chest begin to burn, and your eyes begin to gloss over but you won’t cry. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

“I want nothing to do with you.”

You stare at the phone in your hands as you begin ordering your Uber when he yanks it from your hands once again, he hides the phone in his back pocket and you snarl.

“What the hell Jeon?”

“I said I am driving you home so we can talk so that’s what we are gonna fucking do, okay?” he grabs your hand and begins walking you towards the front door. There’s something about Jungkook...you decide to listen. You watch silently as he puts on his shoes and grabs his wallet and keys.

“Okay…” you finally answer, your voice timid.

He said you guys are going to talk but the car ride has been mostly silent save the low radio playing in the background. Maybe it’s better this way, you think. You aren’t sober, that’s for sure but you also don’t think you are drunk enough to handle this properly. You decide maybe that’s also for the best.

“You sir, are a fucking asshole.” You speak up, your fingers playing with the zipper of your purse. The car smells like it always does, his fresh laundry car freshener and you get sucked into a million memories linked with this scent.

“I know.” Jungkook eyes you from the driver seat, you shiver from the running AC and so he turns it down, “There’s a blanket in the back if you want to grab it.”

“No thanks, don’t know where that’s been.”

“It’s clean, I promise.”

Your eyes go wide as you recall his last promise to you…”Just a few days. I promise.”

“Yeah, I don’t actually believe in your promises anymore.” You continue to pick at the zipper of your purse, your eyes never leaving the zig and zag of the material.

“I needed space y/n, fucking sue me.” He groans out, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“Oh I wish I could.” You snap back.

You feel your chest burn and tighten again, your eyes slightly watering. You have to force them shut to keep from any tears growing.

“I called and texted you every day.” You whisper, his grip getting tighter on the steering wheel.

“I gave you a few days Jungkook. But I never heard from you until 11 at night one night telling me you are fucking moving out.”

“I know, that was…fucked up, I admit. But I had to do what I had to do and I just wish you would let me explain that—”

“No.” you cut him off, “You don’t deserve to explain anything.”

“You mean so much to me y/n…”

“Don’t.”

Jungkook pulls over on the side of the road, turning off the ignition.

“What are you doing?” you sputter out.

He clicks his seatbelt off his body and turns to face you, “Getting comfortable.”

“Why?”

“Will you look at me?” Jungkook tilts his head towards you, “Will you please look at me?”

“No.” you stay facing forward, your hands folded in your lap.

“y/n…please.” His voice sounds strained and you almost feel bad. Almost, but not quite.

You don’t need this…you don’t need him. Ouch, you feel pain in your chest as you think that…oh, the lies you tell yourself.

“Say what you need to say Jungkook, so you can take me home.” Your face stays neutral.

Jungkook sighs out, feeling almost defeated, but not quite.

“I…I am so sorry.” He finally says.

“About what?”

“Everything y/n.” his voice cracks and somehow you feel satisfied.

“You’ll have to be more specific if you ever want my acceptance”

“I know…the first thing I am sorry for is not telling you about Taehyung. That was…that was wrong of me—”

“No shit, but go on.” Your voice stays steady as you speak.

“I was worried about other shit, I was selfish and it’s taking me a long time to forgive myself…but I’ve thought a lot about it these last few months and—and…”

“Oh? You’re worried about you forgiving yourself? Shouldn’t you be a little more concerned about I don’t know, me?”

Jungkook frowns at your words, because well, you’re right. And he’s getting to that part but you keep interrupting him. But he lets you.

“Yes. I am most worried about you, of course.” He breathes out. “You have no idea what these 3 months without you have felt like…”

“Really Jungkook? If anyone knows its fucking me. I went 3 months without you too. You left me!” you start to lose your composure as you speak, your hands gripping on to your poor purse. “When I was going through a really hard time you straight up left me.” You whisper.

“Please believe me…I had my reasons. It was truly for the best y/n.”

“For the best?” you scoff. “You’re such an asshole.”

Jungkook winces at your words, he knows you mean them and that hurts him even more.

“Can you just trust me?” Jungkook blurts out.

Huh? You shake your head, disappointed he would say something so …well, ridiculous.

“Just stop, Jungkook.” You hesitantly roll your eyes, still shaking your head.

Jungkook licks his lips over and over, trying to figure out his next words.

“I really really,” he begins to lose it, his eyes darting all around the car. “just need you to trust me.” He blinks repeatedly, his eyes not focusing on anything in particular.

You, of course, do not believe your ears. Trust him? How could you possibly trust him?

“I just really…I really had my reasons y/n. And I’m sorry, but I just need you to just trust me, that I had my reasons and that I do care about you.” His voice is shaky and you’re uncertain how to take this information.

“I’m confused…” you begin, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You want me to trust you? Even after you left me? Even after I ‘threw myself’ at you?!”

“You weren’t in the right head space y/n…you were vulnerable and…and you didn’t actually want me. You just were feeling used and rejected and needed something to make you feel wanted. To feel better. You wanted to use me for that and I couldn’t let you. But how much could I handle? You liked one of my friends, dated him…sort of, even slept with him and I had to be your shoulder to cry on when,” his breathing picks up heavily as he tries to speak, “it doesn’t matter.” He grits out.

You sit there…speechless. He wasn’t wrong, was he? You were feeling lost and rejected and used and you just wanted something or someone to feel better and who better than your best friend? But it’s also his fault you needed things to work out with Taehyung in the first place!

“Jungkook—”

“I’m not done.” He breathes out, his hot breath reaching your skin.

“I needed some space to think. But I realized I couldn’t properly think things through if I saw you every day, so yeah, I moved out. I’m sorry…” He runs a hand through his hair, a light chuckle makes it way past his lips “Then I met Vanessa.”

“I don’t want to talk about your little girlfriend.” You turn to face forward in your seat, your eyes glancing at the stop sign ahead.

“I told you, she’s not my girlfriend. But it is complicated.”

You continue to look straight ahead, your heart racing in your chest. The subject of “Vanessa” making you feel anxious.

“Complicated how?” you gulp.

“Don’t worry about it.” He laughs to himself, you turn your head to look at him.

“Are you serious, Jungkook?”

“We fuck y/n.”

“But it’s more than that right?”

“Yeah…” Jungkook bites down on his lip.

You look at him bewildered.

“Do you like her? Love her?”

You grip your purse in your lap, waiting for his answer. How would you feel if he answers yes? Are you brave enough to endure that answer? And if he says no? should you be happy? Should you feel relieved?

“No.” he closes his eyes, he folds his hands in front of him. “It’s complicated.”

You sign in relief—oh. Relief is the emotion you are feeling. Why? Why should it matter?

“Why are you telling me all of this?” you whisper.

“I want to be friends again, y/n.” he says softly, his eyes searching yours.

This is madness, how the hell could you save this friendship? Your face scrunches up and the first couple of tears slide down your cheeks, you shake your head as they continue to fall.

“You don’t know how this makes me feel…” you cry out. “I don’t even know how it makes me feel.”

You miss him, so fucking much and he’s right here offering himself to you. But you ‘re so hurt.

“y/n…I know I hurt you. But you gotta believe me when I say it is the hardest thing I have had to do…you understand that right? I had to do it…you understand right?” he begs.

“You were so quick to abandon me, Jungkook.” You drop your head into your hands, the tears uncontrollable now.

“I…” Jungkook begins to panic, his own eyes glossing over. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. Please y/n…I can make it up to you.”

“Things would never be the same, you get that right?” you bawl into your lap, your words coming out broken.

“Please baby, I just need you in my life again…” Jungkook admits, his own words choppy. He reaches his hand to touch you, to his surprise you don’t flinch. His hand cups the back of your head and he begins to massage it softly.

“I have missed you so much and nothing I mean nothing can replace you.” He hesitates to continue, “trust me…I have tried.”

You sob into your hands harder, the weight of his words crushing you.

“I’m sorry Jungkook but I…I don’t believe you.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he absorbs your words, his mouth falls open in shock. Don’t believe him?

“What—what do you mean? What are you saying?” his panic filled voice makes your stomach churn.

“I reject your offer. Now please take me home.” You lift your head and stare straight ahead. “I’m serious.”

Jungkook face twists into a bewildered expression, he doesn’t believe his ears. You…reject him?

“Wait—”

“I said take me home now.” This time you snap your face in his direction, the cold look in your eyes piercing his very soul.

“Okay.”

Hopeless: the dictionary describes it as without hope ; despairing. But in reality, it’s just a picture of Jungkook’s poor, poor face.

Jungkook parks in his designated spot in the lot of his apartment complex, he reverses in because why the hell not. So extra. His drive home was silent… not even the radio on a low volume keeping him company, just complete silence. He turns the car off but doesn’t make a move to get out, he just continues to sit here in his car and sigh out dramatically every 5 seconds.

He’s so confused and lost on what to do. He bangs his head against the steering wheel a few times just for the hell of it, he just…he didn’t think you would reject him. But honestly? Can he blame you? All he’s done lately is be selfish and mess up over and over again. But he wishes you could just trust him but he also wishes he could just tell you the truth. Maybe then you could understand his position and you wouldn’t be mad at him anymore. But he has to wait.

Jungkook’s head is still banging against the steering wheel when more thoughts of you bombard his mind. His breathing picks up and he starts to sniffle, he doesn’t want to cry but you just…you don’t want anything to do with him. He balls his hands into fists and hit the steering wheel over and over causing the horn to go off a few times but he doesn’t care he’s so upset, he just….

When Jungkook saw you tonight for the first time in 3 months he swears his heart actually stopped. He swears it raced so quickly that it just stopped. He let go of Vanessa’s hand so quickly because he wanted to rush to you and hug you close, he wanted to just feel you. Not having touched your skin for the last 3 months…he doesn’t want to imagine even another day.

A few tears slip past his closed lids, he chuckles darkly as he recalls you and Nick. He thought, wow, the universe is cruel and also hilarious. His fucking roommate? He shakes his head, laughing again but his lips remain downward. He feels so fucking helpless right now. But he deserves this, he deserves to feel this pain. He did this to himself and he’s fully aware of that.

Jungkook thinks of your face, he thinks of your smile, he thinks of your eyes and he cries harder, his tears landing on the steering wheel and sliding down landing on to his lap. Yes, he feels like all hope is lost but he knows he cannot give up. He will win you over again one day. He lifts his head and wipes his tear streaked cheeks with the back of his hand and breathes out steadily.

“y/n…” he whispers to himself. Your name leaves his mouth in frustration. He won’t give up. He can’t.

~~~~

“And they were roommates?!” Jimin shouts, a banana half sticking out of his mouth, Trina gasps and whispers “Oh my god they were roommates.”

“Yeah, it was a total shit show.” You bang your head against your breakfast table. Holly rubs your back as she sits next to you.

“Then what happened?” she pries further.

“Yeah what the hell happened y/n!” Jimin yells out.

“He asked to be friends again…and I totally rejected him. Maybe I was too harsh? He was so sad guys…it makes me think…I might agree to kind of being…friends?”

Jimin shuts his eyes as a frown decorates his face, he places a hand on his hip and he inhales a sharp breath, “Listen…you’re both my friends and of course I want you to be good again…but he hurt you …bad.”

“I know Jiminie, but his reasons…” you bite your lip, “Never mind.”

“Well, I don’t like it.” Trina butts in. “He fucking left you, remember?”

“Yes Trina, I fucking remember—”

“Then fucking act like it!”

“Trina relax,” Holly intervenes. “They have a long history, right? It’s hard to just forget about everything…”

Jimin stands from his chair, hands on both hips. “Fine, if we are doing this…then you better actually try. Don’t half ass shit, if you’re going to be friends then don’t be an asshole to him, don’t make snarky remarks…I know your ass.”

Jimin has a good point, you haven’t actually thought about how you will act.

“I’ll be a good girl.” You raise your right arm to salute him.

“Fucking smart ass.” He rolls his eyes.

“Are we serious right now?” Trina shakes her head, “You moped around for 3 fucking months y/n. You cried every time you even thought of Jungkook…which was a fucking lot.” She points out, “Listen, you stayed strong when you talked to him in the car. Don’t break just because you feel bad for the dude because he’s fucking pitiful. He doesn’t deserve your pity girl. He’s an asshole!”

“Trina, be nice.” Holly says sternly, reaching forward to grab on to Trina’s hand. Trina visibly relaxes and nods her head towards Holly and smiles softly.

You and Jimin share a look. Are they….?

“You…” You slam your eyes shut, Trina’s words ringing loudly in your ears. You know she’s right. “I’ll think about it some more. For now, I gotta get ready for work.”

~~~~

“Doesn’t Hazel look so pretty here?” Adam shoves his phone in your face as he gushes about his girlfriend.

“Yes dude, she’s so pretty.” You deadpan. “Now can you please put the brownies in the oven? We’re low.”

“Wait wait…here’s one of us together at the park.” He nudges his phone in your hands, you roll your eyes but you take it.

The two of them are sitting on a park bench, she’s leaning into his frame and they both have wide smiles on their faces. They seem so in love. And you know they are because fucking Adam reminds you every 20 seconds.

“Their love makes me sick.” Jade walks over, her hands patting down on her work apron, her tone is bland but she still tries to smile. “Like, we get it.”

“Who loves who more?” you begin with a toothy grin, “Adam to Hazel or Lenny to the sugar cookies?” you laugh while pointing at said Lenny stuffing his face with the reject cookies. Jade and Adam chuckle while they stare at him.

“Hey guys, really?” Lenny says with his mouth full. “You know I feel bad when we throw them away.” He pouts, crumbs decorating his lips.

“Lenny I catch you eating fresh ones all the time!” Adam points out.

“Sometimes they’re a little ugly…” Lenny reasons, “So I…”

“You don’t have to explain my guy, you just really love your cookies.” You hand Adam back his phone as you head towards the walk in freezer to take out the brownies yourself. You load up a tray and stick those suckers in the oven.

“You’re useless Adam.” Jade sticks a piece of gum in her mouth and chews obnoxiously “U-s-e-l-e-s-s. Useless.”

“You’re always so mean to me Jade what did I ever do to you?”

All 4 of you shoot your heads up when you hear the bell go off on the door of the bakery, its loud chime signaling the arrival of a customer.

“Oh.” Jade says while popping a bubble. “It’s your usual customer y/n.”

You tilt your head towards the front of the store to get a look at who she is talking about, and yup its him. Your most consistent customer who orders the same damn thing every single day. 2 oatmeal raisin cookies and that’s it.

“Can someone else just take care of him today?” you whine, “I’m not in the mood to argue.”

“You know he’s just going to ask for you…” Lenny says stuffing his face with another cookie.

“God damn it.” You huff out, you grab two gloves from the box on the counter and begin walking towards the front of the store.

You reach the front counter and take in your enemy—you mean, your customer.

“And what do I owe the pleasure Mister Oatmeal Raisin?” you raise a brow towards the man. He’s only a few inches taller than you, his hair is a sandy color today and you hate to admit it looks good on him.

“You know you could just call me by name.” the man sways side to side with a smirk on his face.

“I like Mister Oatmeal Raisin.”

He has been coming to this store for the last couple of months and you two…don’t necessarily get along swimmingly. He complains a lot and is a total smart ass. And you? Well, you’re not much better.

“Well, I’ll have my usual.” He smiles, “And you know the drill, please make sure there is a normal amount of raisins and not a million, I don’t want 8 raisins a bite. But one every now and then.”

You roll your eyes extremely dramatically, pressing the buttons on the screen for his order.

“Sir yes sir.” You salute towards him, “How could I not know the drill?”

“That’s the spirit.”

You spin on your heels and head towards the back to heat up his two cookies. You carefully select one cookie with barely any raisins and one cookie with a million, just like he didn’t want. You cackle to yourself as you place them in the baggy, feeling beyond satisfied.

“How haven’t you gotten fired?” Adam crosses his arms over his chest as he watches you, “And how hasn’t he complained about you? You do this every time I don’t get it.”

“He likes her.” Jade says plainly while scrolling through her phone.

“As fucking if!” you scoff, “He wants nothing but to annoy me!” But you can’t help but smile.

“He literally only asks for you every time you’re in.” Lenny reasons, “but you shouldn’t like him back…he likes the worst cookie on the menu. Sugar is where it’s at.”

You laugh at your coworker while walking back up towards the front of the store, reaching the counter.

“Your cookies!” you hand him the baggy with an evil smirk, “I hope you enjoy them.” You wink.

The man opens the baggy and inspects each cookie and with his own evil smirk he winks back at you, “Are we serious right now?” his sly smile doesn’t leave his face as he begins to complain, “You are such a brat.”

“$4 Mister Oatmeal Raisin.”

He hands you the cash, you put it away quickly and with a wide smile you gesture towards the door for him to leave.

“Min Yoongi.” He shakes the bag of cookies in front of him, “Not Mister Oatmeal Raisin.” He turns around and starts walking towards the door but before he exits he tilts his head to look at you one last time, “See you tomorrow…y/n.”

You feel a harsh blush creep up on your cheeks, or your whole face actually. Maybe your whole body. You feel taken aback he knows your name but then you remember you have a god damn name tag.

“Uh…yeah.”

“See you tomorrow…y/n.” all 3 of your coworkers mock in a deep voice.

“Shut up guys!” you whine into your hands, “Can we please just get back to work!”

~~~~~

A few weeks later

The drive to Jimin’s is a quick 7 minutes but you did take a little detour. You decided to stop at the pizzeria that’s on the way and grab a hot pizza for the two of you.

“Hehe.” You look over to the steamy food sitting in the passenger seat.

Jimin has been such a great friend to you all this time and you feel like you’ve never really thanked him…so, tonight you two are going to have a fun night in—he just doesn’t know it yet.

Who doesn’t love being surprised with food?

You pull up to Jimin’s apartment complex and after driving in circles you finally find a parking spot. You grab your purse, your backpack, and the pizza and make your way up to his apartment.

You knock on his front door a few times but get no answer. Maybe he’s not home? No, you definitely hear music coming from the other side…so, you decide to call him.

“Hello?”

“Jimin~ let me in!” you sing into the phone.

“You’re—you’re here?”

“Let me in already!” and with that you hang up and wait patiently outside the door.

A few moments pass before the door is opening up, when Jimin really registers that it’s you he’s kind of closing the door until only his face is shown through the crack.

“Ummm…yes?”

You quirk a brow at the boy, “What do you mean ‘yes?’ let me in!” you begin walking forward when a panicked Jimin opens the door wider to let himself outside and shut the door behind him.

“y/n…why are you here? Did we have plans tonight?” he looks down at the pizza in your hands.

“Not exactly…” you admit, “But I figured we could have a night in.”

Jimin frowns. Fucking frowns!

“Or not?” you say awkwardly.

You hear some sort of banging on the other side of the door and then it clicks.

“Oh? You have someone over?” you smirk.

“Uhhh…no. Nothing like that.” Jimin’s eyes slide to the side as he tries to think of what to say next.

“Babe—”

“Jimin!”

The door is being swung wide open and your eyes travel from some horrendous toes socks to some tight jeans to a striped t shirt to yes, Jungkook’s surprised face.

“Oh.” You both say at the same time.

You and Jungkook stare at one another for a few moments, neither of your eyes leaving the other when Jimin clears his throat.

“Sorry y/n. Jungkook is already over…” he gives you an apologetic smile.

“Is it just you two?” you ask quietly.

“Huh? Uh, yeah.”

You glance down at the pizza and think to yourself. You and Jungkook may not be friends but you can be civil? Yeah, totally! You can definitely be civil! You already bought this fucking pizza so you and Jimin are going to eat it! And you guess, Jungkook too.

“Okay, let me in.” you start shoving your way past Jimin, you watch as his and Jungkook’s eyes go wide.

“Maybe you didn’t hear him, but I am already hanging out with him?” Jungkook sputters out. He awkwardly moves to the side anyway to let you through.

“I can be civil with you Jungkook. Plus, I don’t want this pizza to go to waste. So let’s eat.” You walk through, nudging the pizza box into Jungkook’s hands, he takes it while looking at Jimin with shocked eyes.

Jimin just shrugs and follows you inside.

“Yeah, let’s eat.” He says nonchalantly.

Jungkook is left at the door with the pizza in his hands as he is left completely dumbfounded. He is malfunctioning.

“Jungkook?” you call out over your shoulder, “Hurry up, I’m hungry!”

“Yeah, Jungkook hurry up!” Jimin smirks, he isn’t totally sure what’s going on but he kind of likes it.

“So what were you guys doing before I got here?” you shove an entire slice of pizza down your throat, the sauce getting left behind on your lips.

“I was teaching Jungkook some of my dance moves…we made a bet that he couldn’t learn the entire routine in 3 times…and—”

“Let me guess, he fucking learned it.” You laugh.

Jimin groans, his head thrown back as he begins nodding his head ‘yes.’

“So annoying! What can’t he do!” Jimin throws the pizza crust in the box and Jungkook immediately picks it up and eats it.

“Pshh, I could name a few things.” You point out bitterly. “But we won’t get into that.”

“Yeah, please don’t.” Jimin pleads.

“I’m curious…what is it you think I cant do?” Jungkook quirks a brow at you and your eyes darken in his direction.

“You really want me to?” you take a napkin and wipe your lips, “It’s nothing nice.” You admit.

“Oh then yes, please don’t.” Jungkook is quick to say.

“Yes, please don’t.” Jimin begs again.

The 3 of you are sitting on the living room floor, maybe only 30 minutes or so has passed by and it’s not too awkward. But it’s not necessarily comfortable either. Jimin looks between you and Jungkook constantly, waiting for someone to crack but neither of you really speak to each other. Both of you really only communicating with Jimin.

“So Jimin, are you going to show me another routine?”

“Why? So you can prove you’re the master of everything again? No thanks.”

“Jimin, maybe you can show me a few steps?”

Jimin smiles awkwardly while Jungkook is quick to burst out laughing. You snap your head towards Jungkook and raise your brows at him.

“Why is Jungkook laughing, Jimin?”

“Umm…” Jimin smiles softly, “You aren’t the most…”

Jungkook laughs harder as he watches Jimin trying to explain.

“Aren’t the most…?” You tilt your head towards the boy.

“C’mon y/n don’t make me say it…” Jimin drags out his words in a whine, he plays with his fingers, looking around the room awkwardly.

“Just say it Jimin.” Jungkook chuckles out.

“If you’re trying to say I’m a bad dancer, we all know that’s not true!” you defend once you catch on, you pout at the boys.

“Well…”

“You have both told me I am a good dancer!”

“Well, you know how to move. But steps…following a routine…that’s different. You aren’t very coordinated.” Jimin finally admits, a sheepish grin on his face.

“He means you can roll your hips but your feet are clumsy as fuck.” Jungkook says, still laughing at the situation.

“Shut up.” You glare at Jungkook.

“No, he’s right.” Jimin begins laughing as well, he looks at you and smiles. Well, if Jimin is saying it…maybe it might be true. It’s not like you didn’t kind of know. But still!

“Fine, whatever. Don’t teach me then.”

Suddenly, Jimin’s phone is going off and he rushes to the kitchen to answer it. You and Jungkook eat your pizza in silence, awkwardly catching one another’s gaze.

“So—”

“Don’t talk to me.” You cut in. Jimin isn’t here so it’s not like you have to be totally social with Jungkook.

“Oh.” Jungkook dramatically slumps his shoulders and pouts. You watch him as he throws a silent fit like the baby he is. “Okay.”

Jimin walks back into the living room looking annoyed, he stands between you two and throws a hand on his hip.

“I have to go down to the front office, there was a mix up in packages…I shouldn’t take too long…” he bites down on his plump bottom lip, “Please be civil while I’m gone. Jungkook…” he looks at the boy then at you, “y/n…” he warns.

“Sir yes sir!” you salute towards your friend with a straight face.

Jimin only narrows his eyes as he looks between you two.

“I’m serious…” he says.

Then he is putting on some shoes and heading out the front door, the soft click making you shudder. You’re alone with Jungkook.

A few minutes pass and you both awkwardly just sit there, sometimes catching the other looking. You finally huff out and accidentally giggle.

“What’s funny?” Jungkook’s curiosity getting the best of him.

“It’s just…I feel like we’re Jimin’s divorced parents and we’re trying to be civil for our child.”

Jungkook stares at you with scrunched brows, then looks away while a chuckle escapes his lips.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

You only nod your head in response. You two go back to the awkward silence.

You aren’t used to this…this awkward and odd silence that lingers between you two. It feels so fucking suffocating you almost wish you were on total talking terms so you didn’t have to endure this shit show.

“You know I could…no, forget it.” Jungkook bites his nails as he speaks, “I…”

“What?” you don’t mean to snap at him, but somehow even talking with an attitude feels better than not talking at all.

“I was going to say…I could teach you some steps…then you could surprise Jimin. He’s been working on a salsa piece…I can teach you some? Then maybe he will stop talking shit on your dancing.” Jungkook laughs awkwardly.

“Wait—he talks shit?!” somehow this doesn’t surprise you in the least.

“Only a little.” Jungkook shows you how little with his pointer finger and thumb. “But uh, want me to show you?”

“I don’t even want to talk to you, you think I want to dance with you?” you raise a brow in amusement. You forget this boy has all the audacity.

“Dancing doesn’t have to have any talking.” Jungkook states with a sly smile.

“So you’re just going to show me the steps?”

“Precisely.”

You don’t know why, but this sounds better than actually speaking and/or just sitting in miserable silence. And maybe, just maybe you have a desire to be close to him.

“You think I could learn in time before Jimin gets back?”

“With me as your teacher? Definitely.” He fucking smirks at you and you can’t help but feel that feeling in your stomach. Not necessarily a bad feeling but a fucking feeling.

Jungkook stands to his feet and extends his hand out to you for you to take.

“Here, stand up.”

Your eyes travel from his hands to his eyes and you blink lazily at him…wait, you’re really doing this? He stares down at you and he smiles softly and it creates a warmth in your chest that you’re trying so hard to ignore. You can’t.

Even so, you hesitantly begin to reach up to grab on to his hand, once your skin touches his you feel it. The burning. You should be used to it but right now, the fire is raging and the heat is almost too much. But you let him close his hand over yours as he helps you up.

You’re now standing in front of one another, in complete silence again. But this time it’s not awkward—no, it’s a different type of tension. Your hand lingers in his, neither of you brave enough to let go of the other. Jungkook looks down at you and you up at him, and you feel a million things. But the number one thing you feel is pain. You slowly pull your hand back and break eye contact with him, your head dropping low.

“Show me already.” You whisper.

“Shh, no talking.” Jungkook quietly demands. “Only speak with your body.” He puts some music on the speakers and smirks at you.

Jungkook steps closer to you and you stay grounded in your spot, you can feel the heat of his body begin to radiate and warm you. One of his hands find yours, he weaves his fingers through your own and puts one hand on your hip, he looks down at you to warn you this is how he will guide you.

“Just follow me.”

“You said no talking Mr.Jeon.” you say almost under your breath as you stare into his eyes. Jungkook rolls his head back with a smirk on his face, he looks at you and nods.

He puts his left foot forward and steps with his right foot in the same place at center, then puts his left foot back again. You try to copy his moves but even with such simple steps you step on his feet. He looks up at you disapprovingly. You only smile at him.

You two continue to try these steps until you finally manage to understand them even just a little bit. Jungkook brings your body closer to his as you two move your hips to the music while following the simple steps. His chest flush against your own, his heart beating so loudly you can feel it. Your heart isn’t any better. You start to finally get the hang of it, the music slowly taking you to another place. Jungkook moves his hips to the beat so flawlessly and honestly? You’re doing pretty fucking good if you do say so yourself.

Jungkook’s grip on your hip tightens as he grinds himself closer to you, you feel lightheaded as you two dance to the song. Your breathing getting just a little heavier and you feel lost and pathetic but you’re too immersed in the dance to care. Jungkook finds his head falling into the crook of your neck, his hot breaths fanning against your sensitive skin and you find your hand skimming up his back until you have a handful of his hair. You lightly tug on his locks and Jungkook quietly groans. You don’t know if you’re even doing the right steps anymore, your feet moving all around the place, but somehow it’s working. You’re still following his lead and you’re sure the dance looks somewhat okay. All you care about is how both of your hips move to the beat of the music and into each other. You two are so in sync its driving you nuts.

Jungkook lifts his head and watches as you close your eyes and he closes his own eyes, his head falling forward, your foreheads close to touching. You feel so dizzy, so light and airy, so fucking great like you’re floating. You can’t help but feel the heat creep up your entire body, you feel sweat start to build as you two move. You tighten your hands around Jungkook’s neck and pull him down impossibly close, until his forehead is touching yours. Your harsh breaths mingling with his. You get dragged into the memory of when he had you pinned to his dorms mattress, you recall how his lips left kisses all along your throat, his hot breath reminding you of the past. You think of how he rolled his hips into you effortlessly then as well, you think of how you scraped your nails down his back as he thrusted into you. God, you need to think of something else but Jungkook is filling your mind.

Jungkook’s breathing picks up again, as does yours. Your memories making this dance that much more sensual. You remember the way Jungkook nibbled on your ear as he let filthy words spill from his mouth when he fucked you. God, you should not be thinking this but his body feels so good. God, you should think of anything…literally anything else. You remember how he held you close much like how he is right now. You two continue dancing to the song that is soon coming to an end. You know exactly how it feels to have Jungkook inside you, moving and stilling. You know exactly what it feels like to come all around his cock. God, you need to stop. You need to slow your breathing. God, you…you…you...he continues to guide you along to the music when you feel something hard poke against you. Oh. Oh. OH. Hard. He’s hard.

Immediately, you pull back and take several clumsy steps backward. You blink at him with wide eyes when you realize that maybe he was recalling the same memories as you. Your wide eyes concerning Jungkook.

“Okay, that’s enough lessons for today.” Your harsh breaths don’t go unnoticed by Jungkook, his own breathing quite unsteady.

“Right.” Jungkook mumbles.

You two stand around for a few moments, just taking in the experience you just shared.

You still feel…how do you feel? You just shared a hot dance with your best friend? Wait—ex best friend? You don’t know. The memory of his body moving with yours, his skin touching your skin, his breaths on your neck, his hair balled up in your hands. God, it felt so good.

But so wrong.

“Umm…thanks.” You finally say.

Jungkook perks up at the gratitude, even if it’s somewhat forced. His frown turns into a small smile and you can’t help but smile back.

“I miss you y/n.” Jungkook instantly regrets it by the look on your face. Your expression turning hard. “Sorry I—”

“No, I miss you too.” You answer honestly. “But this doesn’t change anything.”

“But why not? Do you really not want me in your life for like, ever?”

Jungkook’s questions settle deep within you. The depth they hold…it’s too much. You wonder? Is this anti-Jungkook thing permanent? Or are you just trying to teach him a lesson?

Jungkook rubs his temples as he thinks, he sighs out instead of talking more.

“Not forever.” You finally say. Jungkook looks at you, a sliver of hope flashes across his face.

“But when?” he asks softly.

Yeah y/n. When? You know you both can’t go back to how things use to be but maybe starting over? God, you don’t know what to do! You know someone like Trina will be disappointed you became friends with Jungkook again so quickly, but you know someone like Jimin would be happy his two friends are back to being on okay terms. Why are you trying to please everybody? What do you want?

“Will you ever give up?” you say a little more lightly.

“No…” he says under his breath, his eyes focusing on the TV. “Not until you agree to be my friend again.”

You look at Jungkook with disbelief written all over your face, this boy has the fucking audacity once again. You’re amused though.

“Excuse me?” you say, cleaning your ear out with your point finger. “I didn’t catch that.”

Jungkook looks into your eyes, his eyes are large and doe like and it brings you back to every moment ever that he has given you this look.

“You’re stuck with me until you love me again.” He says more firmly.

“Who said,” you look at him with soft eyes, “That I ever stopped loving you?”

Jungkook smiles, he fucking smiles. His adorable bunny smile that makes your heart race.

“You still love me?”

“Only a little.” You jut your lip out, “I mostly hate you.”

Jungkook only frowns for a second before he is smiling again, “That’s fair.”

The two of you stand in comfortable silence for a few minutes, you sway back and forth wondering what you want to say to him—you miss him, of course but…

“Let’s take it slow.” You finally break the silence. You miss him more than anything and it might be worth it to have him in your life again, “You aren’t going to be a priority in my life anymore.” You crack you knuckles, the sound filling up the room.

“I know,” Jungkook feels his heart twist at your words but at least it’s something. “We can go however slow you want y/n.”

“You are on—”

“Thin fucking ice, buddy. I know.”

You exhale a shaky breath, thinking about how to go about this, “We can text every now and then, I’m not sure I want to hang out with you quite yet.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe a group hang out first…”

“I’d like that.”

Jungkook reaches over to grab your hand but you pull back, “That’s a no from me for the affection.”

Hurt flashes across Jungkook’s features but he softens up as he nods his head. “Noted.”

You wonder if you’re making the right decision. This wasn’t easy, you know? This actually felt quite hard. But somehow you feel like some weight has been lifted off your shoulders, like things maybe just maybe will be okay.

“I won’t push myself on you, I promise.” Jungkook sits back down on the floor, crossing his legs.

“Just be yourself, Jungkook.”

“If I wanted to be myself I would be hugging you right now but that’s apparently off limits.” He jokes.

“One hug.” You open your arms timidly. You feel one hug can’t be too bad?

Jungkook widens his eyes in pleasant surprise. He stands to his feet again and opens his own arms.

“C’mere.”

You watch in disbelief as he grins with his arms wide open, expecting you to go to him! And you do. You fucking do.

His arms wrap around you, he pushes you into his chest and you feel so fucking good. So warm, so cozy. His scent making you feel dizzy again, his warmth causing you to heat up. You lean back and look at his content face, he honestly looks so fucking content. Like, this hug is everything to him. And maybe it is, but you don’t know that.

“Uh, am I interrupting something?” you both snap your heads toward the front door to see Jimin standing there with a package in his hands.

“I can come back later?” he smirks at you two.

“No no no no!” you drop your arms from hugging Jungkook and take a few steps back, “We were just—”

“We made up, Jimin.” Jungkook says calmly with the softest smile you’ve ever seen on him.

“We’re taking it slow!” you rush to say.

“Oh?” Jimin winks, he walks forward until he’s in the living room joining you two. “Does this mean you will be joining us this Thursday at Jungkook and Nick’s place?”

“Huh?”

Jungkook shifts on his feet, “Yeah, uh, me and Nick are having a small get together on Thursday…you can bring whoever you want…but you’re definitely invited.”

“Before I answer that…Jimin how did you not know about Nick and him being Jungkook’s roommate?”

“Listen! Jungkook is always HERE! I never go over there! The few times I was there Nick was never home okay?!” Jimin whines obnoxiously.

“Okay, whatever. And Jungkook, I said—”

“You said group hang outs.” Jungkook pouts.

Oh. You did say that. But this soon? And is she going to be there?

You chew on your lips before answering, “Okay. But I’m bringing Trina and Holly.”

“Oh bro, Trina is not your biggest fan.” Jimin cuts in.

“Yeah, I know how she is I already anticipated that.” Jungkook shrugs, he looks at you with a small smile.

Okay, starting over? Taking it slow? Can you and Jungkook do this? You look between the boys and smile,

“Okay. See you boys on Thursday.”

#bts #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #taehyung angst

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

web of lies

take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.

photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist

w/c: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint

summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all

a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading

to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.

a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.

he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.

“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”

your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.

that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.

—

“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”

“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”

“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”

“does anyone have an aspirin?”

welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.

although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.

you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.

thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.

mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.

harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.

there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.

last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.

you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.

peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.

the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.

“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.

ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.

“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.

“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.

mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.

“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.

as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?

“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”

uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.

“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.

“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.

“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”

what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.

it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.

quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.

you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.

“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.

it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.

grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.

you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.

“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.

“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.

“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“

“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”

you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.

the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.

you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.

“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.

“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.

“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.

biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.

then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.

“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”

“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.

“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.

confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.

mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.

peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.

“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.

“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.

“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”

after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.

you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.

it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.

you’ve never missed a deadline.

mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.

“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“

mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,” you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”

harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.

“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.

“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”

mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”

the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.

you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.

you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.

taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.

“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.

“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”

considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,” he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.

“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”

“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.

“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”

peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.

“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.

getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”

“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.

“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”

you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.

“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.

“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”

something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.

“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.

“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.

he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.

peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.

things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.

later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?

they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.

the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.

ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.

pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.

his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.

peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.

“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“

the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”

in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’

“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”

“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.

“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.

“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.

ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.

“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.

“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.

he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.

you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.

“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.

you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.

“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.

you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”

listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.

“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”

“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.

“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.

“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.

“what are you doing tonight?”

peter parker taglist

@saturnpeter @tpwk-grande @itstaskeen @missyouhollnd @becicamina @dummiesshort @zspideyy @watchitimreadinghere @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @dpaccione @karispotters11 @theofficialzivadavid @thehumanistsdiary @kelieah @aayaissaa @petersgroupie @annab-nana @tayyx @swtltlmrvlgrl @magicalxdaydream @haoluvver @kjune113 @captainamirica @marvel-dork98 @emmastarz @killingbxys @viriditie @misshale21 @veryholland @liliswifts @tommydarlings @rebelemilu @peterspideysense @cr-uelsummer @dreamy-clousds @quaksonhehe @quxxnxfhxll @blackbat2020 @babyblue19 @falconxbarnes @zachary-s @dirtytissuebox @dracoswhore007 @heavenlyholland @thsquad @etheralholland @dhtomholland @awh-lilies @tomshufflepuff @multifamdomfan12

if i forgot you please lmk!

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #spiderman #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic

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snelbz · 3 years

Text

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 8}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

A @snelbz X @theladyofdeath collaboration.

Word Count: 2752

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

***Announcement! *** After the completion of I’ll be Seeing You and Tempting the Fates, all of Tara and I’s joint fanfiction will be posted on a separate blog that we run together > @snacmc. Be sure to follow the new blog as we will start posting on there soon!

Athena

– Goddess of wisdom, reason, intelligent activity, literature, handicrafts and science, defense and strategic warfare

Rowan felt ridiculous.

He had spent the last hour cleaning his apartment and was currently pulling all of the food out that was meant to be prepared for dinner.

Steak, carrots, green beans, potatoes, a wide range of spices.

Thanks to the internet, Rowan knew what to do with them all.

It’s not like it was that big of a deal - Lorcan and Elide were joining him and Aelin for dinner.

And although he had hosted Lorcan and Elide a million times for dinner, Rowan had never cooked, nor had he introduced them to someone he was crazy about.

And he was crazy about Aelin.

She didn’t have classes on Fridays, something he wished he had been smart enough to plan when he was in college, so she’d done his grocery shopping while he was teaching all day. When he got home, he was expecting her to still be there. But his apartment was empty.

I have to get ready, she’d explained when he called her. I wasn’t expecting Lorcan the other night, but I have to impress Elide.

“You could have gotten ready here. You shower here all the time.”

We have sex in the shower, I don’t use it for functional purposes. Not yet anyway.

So here he was, laptop open to a recipe for pan-seared steak, making sure he had everything he needed.

Aelin had promised she’d be here before Lorcan and Elide, and he had been hoping to impress her with his skills in the kitchen, too, even if they were rough.

Now he was hoping not to set the smoke alarms off as he turned the stove on and put way more butter than he was used to using in the cast iron pan.

As it began to melt, he was already considering his meal a success.

Just as he was dropping the steaks into the pan, the front door opened and Aelin was letting herself in.

“Follow the sound of the sizzling,” he called, and Aelin came into view a second later.

She whistled, brows raised. “I like a man in the kitchen.”

Rowan laughed as he met her halfway, giving her a kiss. “Hopefully you still like it after you eat what I make.” Another kiss. “You look beautiful.”

She scoffed. “I’m wearing leggings and a top.”

“And you look beautiful in them,” he replied, turning back to the stove. “Just like you do in everything.”

“You’re a shameless flirt,” she said, beginning to chop the vegetables. But he saw the blush creep across her cheeks and ears.

Although they were cooking a homemade meal, he’d made sure she knew this wasn’t going to be anything fancy.

Elide would never let me live it down.

Rowan had always got along well with Elide, although he had absolutely no idea how she ended up with Lorcan. Rowan loved his oldest and closest friend, but he was a natural asshole.

Elide was the opposite.

“I have to confess,” Aelin began, nibbling on her bottom lip. “I’m a little nervous.”

Rowan’s brows rose. “Why?”

“Well, these are the people we’re going to be spending a lot of time with, I assume, since they’re two out of four people that know about us.” She gestures between the two of them. Their unorthodox relationship. “If she’s as sweet as you say she is, I’m worried my sarcastic ass will offend the woman.”

Rowan couldn’t help the laughter that shook his body. “Do I need to remind you that she’s been with Lorcan for the last five years?”

Aelin whistled. “Five years and still no ring? That gives me good material to ruffle Lorcan with.”

He froze and glanced over a shoulder at her. “Maybe don’t bring that up.”

Aelin was instantly grateful she had mentioned it now, and not in front of Lorcan directly. “Why?”

“Lorcan is…” Rowan trailed off as he flipped one of the steaks over. “He’s complicated. He’s not great with commitment. Elide is the only girl he’s been in a real relationship with as long as I’ve known him.”

“And how long is that?” Aelin asked, transferring the chopped veggies into a baking dish.

“We’ve been best friends since elementary school.”

Aelin’s eyes widened. “Oh. Wow. Okay, I won’t bring up anything to do with weddings or babies or any other lifelong commitments.”

“Good idea,” Rowan chuckled. “It may not seem like it, but as of now, Lorcan likes you. Imagine how cranky of an ass he would be if you got on his bad side.”

“Almost as bad as it is for someone who gets on mine,” Aelin grinned, and that mischief sent a thrilling chill down Rowan’s spine.

He opened his mouth to respond, to say something along the lines of lets do it right here, right now, before they get here, but a single knock sounded on the door.

Aelin whistled. “Even Lorcan’s knock is grumpy.”

“It’s also early,” Rowan mumbled, setting the tongs he’d been using down beside the stove and heading for the door. On any other occasion, Lorcan would have let himself in, like usual, but he knew how important this night was. Or at least was to Rowan.

He opened the door and found Lorcan grimacing, while the petite girl with dark hair was bouncing from foot to foot.

“Is she here?” Elide asked, grin growing. “Or do I have time to grill you about this alone before she shows up?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to grill us both,” Aelin said, appearing from the kitchen, a smile on her face.

As Rowan shut the door behind them, Elide’s mouth popped open into a little O and her eyes narrowed.

Aelin’s grin grew. “Hello, Elide.”

“Aelin,” she breathed. “Aelin Aelin? As in…Aelin?”

“I’m guessing it was the same Elide,” Lorcan mumbled, carrying a covered dish into the apartment. “Elide made dessert.”

With that, he was going into the kitchen to place it on the table.

The two women ran towards each other and embraced. Rowan kept his mouth shut as he watched the scene unfold.

Elide stepped back. “You don’t seem as surprised as me. Why don’t you seem as surprised as me?”

“Lorcan told me where you were from and how you moved around last time I was graced with his presence.” Aelin shrugged, that grin remaining. “I had a hunch, but wasn’t sure. Besides, if it did end up being you, I wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”

Elide turned and glared at her boyfriend. “A little heads up would have been appreciated.”

He was already halfway to the fridge, heading for a beer he knew Rowan would have restocked for them. “What she said. I didn’t want to get the story wrong or your hopes up.”

Rolling her eyes, Elide looked back to Aelin. “Men.”

Ending up back in the kitchen, Aelin finished up the veggies and was putting them in the oven when Elide asked, “So Aelin, how exactly did you two meet?”

Aelin glanced at Rowan and then back towards Elide. She was sipping her wine as she leaned against the counter, looking like the picture of innocence. Lorcan was shaking his head where he stood next to her.

Clearing her throat softly, she took the safe route. “In class.”

Elide’s eyes lit up. “So he really is your professor.”

“I thought that had been established,” Rowan mumbled, covering the steaks with foil to rest before they ate.

“I wasn’t sure if you two were just trying to mess with me again,” she said, eyeing Lorcan and Rowan. Turning to Aelin, she said, “I’m so glad I won’t be the only girl anymore. You have no idea how awful it is being the third wheel with these two.”

“You’re the third wheel with these two?” Aelin asked, brow raised.

Elide barked a laugh. “Absolutely. The more time you spend around these lovebirds, you’ll see what I’m talking about. Their bromance is out of control.”

“Bromance, huh?” Aelin grinned as Rowan rolled his eyes.

“It’s cute, really,” Elide said, then slowly shook her head as she met Aelin’s eyes. “Wow. I just can’t believe it’s you. It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” Aelin said, and Lorcan cleared his throat from where he stood on the other side of the room.

“Are we done with sappy pleasantries?” He asked. “I came to eat.”

Elide pointed to the oven, where the vegetables were still roasting. “Five more minutes in the oven, but you and Rowan can set the table if you don’t feel like hearing us talk.”

She gave him a brilliant smile, which he scowled at, but Rowan indeed clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder and led him from the room.

“Are you still close with Aedion? How is he?”

Elide asked, perching on one of the bar stools as Aelin refilled their wine glasses and stirred the pot of mashed potatoes on the stove.

“Yeah, he practically lives with me,” Aelin replied rolling her eyes affectionately. “He’s dating my best friend, and graduates in the spring, like me.”

“What’s he studying?” Elide asked, then added. “I thought he was older than us.”

“He is, by two years. He took a year off to find himself,” Aelin snorted, holding up air quotes. “Then he changed his major twice, which gave him a few unexpected setbacks. But he’ll have a degree in sports medicine and will be going back at some point to get his specialization in physical therapy.”

“I remember him being big into sports,” Elide nodded. “Good for him.”

“And you?” Aelin asked, leaning her elbows on the counter. “College not the path for you?”

“Oh no,” Elide said, chuckling. “I went for a few months before deciding it wasn’t for me. I started serving and making good tips, so I didn’t pursue anything else until recently. About a year ago I started getting really into pottery. I started my own little business a couple months ago, that I do for just a little extra cash and for the hell of it.”

“Really?” Aelin asked, brow raised. “That's incredible. What do you make?”

Elide opened her mouth to speak, but it was Lorcan that said. “Vases, mostly. She’s incredibly talented.”

Aelin hadn’t even heard them come back in, but as if on cue, the timer behind her went off. She turned to pull the vegetables out of the oven, but glanced back over her shoulder and Elide, who was smiling softly at Lorcan. “You’ll have to show me,” she said, setting the baking dish on a trivet. “I’d love to buy one.”

Elide’s smile was almost as radiant as she was.

“Okay. No more ordering in when we come over,” Elide said, setting her fork and knife down on her nearly empty plate. “You’re cooking from now on, Rowan.”

Everything had been delicious, even if the potatoes had been instant. Rowan was pretty damn proud of himself. “Aelin helped,” he said, his hand finding her knee under the table.

“Then you better keep her, because that was delicious and take out isn’t going to cut it anymore.” Elide sipped from her wine and winked at Aelin from across the table.

“Even I can’t protest that,” Lorcan said, throwing his arm around the back of Elides chair.

“And I didn’t help that much,” Aelin said, holding her hands up. “Rowan started cooking this afternoon. I just put veggies in the oven.”

“Well, either way, it means Lor and I are on clean up duty. You two go relax,” Elide said, and rose, beginning to pick up plates.

Lorcan groaned but followed his girlfriend’s lead, nonetheless.

Aelin laughed quietly as she took Rowan’s hand and pulled him into the living room.

“I like the hold she has over him,” Aelin said, once they were alone. “It’s inspiring.”

Rowan hummed as he put an arm around her and pulled her against his side. “That’s a great way to describe Elide. Inspiring.”

Aelin thought of the murky memories she had of the young girl. She’d moved to Perranth right around the time Aelin’s own parents had died. Sadly, that move had been prompted by the same reason. Elide’s parents had also passed and her uncle had received full guardianship of her, and he lived in Perranth. Rather than uproot his life, he decided to uproot Elide’s. She had been too young for a cell phone, so there had been no way to stay in touch at the time, but Aelin was glad to see her back in Orynth. She was sure Aedion would be happy to hear about it, too.

“I think she likes you,” Rowan murmured, his lips by her ear.

Her laughter was soft as she rested her head against his shoulder. “I’d hope so. She’s known me since we were children.”

Rowan scoffed. “That means nothing. I’ve known

Lorcan since we were children and half the time

I hate him.”

Aelin’s head fell back as she laughed a little louder. “Well, that’s understandable. But me? I’m a peach.”

“Yeah, you are,” he whispered, and kissed her, softly. She held onto him a little bit tighter, and she couldn’t help but think how perfectly the night had gone.

If only the people who currently knew about their relationship would be the only people that knew about their relationship, Aelin wouldn't mind it. At least, not for a while.

“Elide was right, though,” Aelin muttered. “Your food is delicious. I’m continuously impressed by you.”

He shook his head and laughed quietly. “Thank the Internet. I can just follow directions well.”

The two fell into silence as they listened to Lorcan and Elide’s banter from the kitchen, and Aelin couldn’t help but laugh. It was clear they had been together for a while, with how comfortable they were, and Aelin was happy for them, if not a little bit jealous. She knew it was something that couldn’t be rushed, but feeling like that with someone, like that someone was home, was something she hadn’t experienced in a while.

“He’a different around her,” Aelin quietly mused as Lorcan’s deep rumble of laughter reached them from the other room.

Rowan nodded slowly. “Their story isn’t mine to tell, but… He helped her out of a dark place, but she also saved him, in her own way.”

She understood that. Hopefully, she and Elide would become close enough that she’d feel like she could open up to her.

It’d be nice to have another girlfriend, like Lysandra.

“You should come over one night this week,” Aelin said, looking up into his face. “So you can get to know Aedion and Lysandra.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “I think Lysandra and I got a good start on that in class.”

Aelin grinned as she framed his face with her hands. “She’s a little extra, but so am I, so you shouldn’t mind that too much.”

Rowan scrunched his nose but sighed. “I guess that would be fine…considering they already know about us.”

“Kind of hard to hide from my best friend and roommate,” Aelin muttered. “And obnoxious cousin.”

“We could always go up north for a weekend, too,” Rowan suggested. “With Lor, Elide, and Lysandra and your cousin. I have a cabin there.”

“Of course you do.” Aelin rolled her eyes. “Spoiled, rotten rich kid.”

There was a flash of hurt in his eyes, but before she could ask about it, or even begin to apologize, Elide was sweeping into the room. “Dinner is all cleaned up and I still have room for dessert. Anyone else?”

“Depends on what it is,” Rowan smirked, his arm still around Aelin. That hurt was gone and Aelin wondered if she’d imagined it. “Not your attempt at a crockpot apple pie again, is it?”

“That was one time and had too little liquid. My crockpot was too large,” she huffed, but crossed her arms. “It’s a triple chocolate cake, actually.”

Aelin’s interest was immediately piqued. “Oh, there’s always room for chocolate cake.”

Elide grinned and took her hand, pulling her off the couch and into the kitchen. Lorcan took a seat on the other side of the couch and sighed.

“The two of them together is terrifying.”

Rowan smiled. He was sure they could get into some trouble, but it was nothing he and Lorcan wouldn’t be able to handle.

He was happy, he realized, trying to shove back the dark memories he’d accidentally dredged up. He was happier than he’d been in years, and Aelin was the reason.

He just prayed nothing happened to end that happiness.

#tempting the fates #snacmc ttf #rowaelin ttf #throne of glass #rowaelin #snacmc collab

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Murder, He Wrote

Part 1

Co-written with @southerngracela

Summary: You’re sent by your asshole boss to do a review of a Celebrity Host Haunted Mansion, hosted by none-other than the arrogant, wild-eye browed actor Lucas Lee, but you’re worried you’ve missed the boat…that is, until at the last minute, an email arrives to say they can let you in on the last admission that night, which just happens to be Halloween… When you arrive, you’re actually kind of excited and intrigued…but it isn’t long until that excitement and intrigue give way to fear when you find yourself in a helpless situation.

Warnings: A creepy house, bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap, violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: So this is a collaboration between myself and the wonderful @southerngracela for @jtargaryen18 ‘s Haunted House 2020 challenge…and will be a mini-series, with an as of yet undefined number of chapters.

Once again READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ us if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

"Y/L/N," your dick editor poked his head into your office rather gruffly. "I'm gonna need that celebrity haunted mansion review on my desk by tomorrow morning. I want to run it ASAP.”

"I can't even get in, not even with a press pass, I've been trying for two weeks, Mick!” you looked at him, your mouth slightly open. You’d told him this countless times at morning briefings. You hadn't even heard back from the organizers about sneaking around the press pass issue and offering an exclusive on the joint, a small fact you kept Mick in the dark about.

"Make it happen." He said simply, before he turned and left.

You glared at his retreating form. What the fuck did he not understand about the situation? Mind you, what did he understand about anything? There was a reason everyone working for him called him Mick The Prick.

There was also a reason he was being extra prickish to you. Earlier in the spring time of the year you’d run an article on Ransom Drysdale- the stuck up, trust fund asshole who had literally gotten away with murder. He’d confessed to murdering his grandfather’s house keeper, attempting to murder his grandfather and then, in a violent showdown with 2 police officers and a private detective present, he’d attempted to murder his grandfather’s nurse, Marta. And he would have succeeded, except the knife he’d used had been a stage prop. It was like some fucked up Murder, She Wrote plot, and when you’d interviewed the real life Jessica Fletcher (in this case the rather charming PI named Benoit Blanc who’d been a character to say the least) it got even more confusing. Ransom had hired Blanc in some elaborate scheme to frame Marta for Harlan’s death to do her out of the inheritance via the Slayer Rule. That had back fired spectacularly when she had unwittingly switched back the vials of medication Drysdale had tampered with, meaning Harlan had truly committed suicide.

The article was supposed to be done showing his side of the story, a way for him to set the record straight, but the more you’d dug and spoken to people surrounding the case, the more you were absolutely convinced of his guilt, not least because he’d been acquitted on the murder and attempted murder charges on technical grounds due to his confession being, allegedly, obtained under duress and without a brief being present. The only thing they’d managed to pin on him was the arson which had burnt the Chief Medical Examiner’s office to the ground, and when his brief had successfully argued mitigating circumstances- he wasn’t of sound mind given the shock surrounding him being cut from his grandfather’s will- he’d basically ended up being released on license.

It was a joke, and that was basically what your article had said. You’d written a scathing attack on how money could basically render you untouchable by the law, highlighting the failures of the Criminal Justice System. At the time, Mick the Prick had been delighted with it, publishing it under your suggested head line “Murder, He Wrote”- ha, go figure, and copies had flown off the shelves, the article online going viral.

And then money had talked once more, and the Drysdale’s had threatened to sue for defamation. That in itself was a joke, as you knew full well his mother, Linda, was only doing it to salvage her own reputation, the same reason she’d worked so hard to find a lawyer to get him off the charges despite the fact she knew full well he was guilty as sin. Mick The Prick had attempted to throw you under the bus spectacularly when the board had come looking for blood, but as editor the buck stopped with him, and he was given a formal warning whilst you were forced to publish a retraction and offer a written apology much to your utter chagrin.

Which was why he was now making your life as hard as possible, and your Investigative Journalism skills, that you’d honed over the last decade; from high school paper, college tribune and now your current employer, over the last 10 years or so since graduation were now being focussed on covering stories about housewives who found Jesus’ face in a slice of toast, or in this case a fucking Celebrity Host Halloween Haunted House review. Whereas you had dominated the first 2 pages once upon a time, you were now lucky if you made it further up than page 11.

With a groan you banged your head on your desk. Why had you not listened to your dad and become a damned teacher instead of a journalist. Dealing with snotty nosed brats would be easier than this.

By the end of your day, you were burning what felt like the midnight oil however it wasn't very late at all. Dark had settled in but it wasn't late by time. Just before you were to log off and leave for the night, a TV dinner and pint of mint chip waiting for you in your freezer (and probably a job search too seeing as you would no doubt be fired tomorrow morning for failing on your deadline) your email pinged on your desktop. You frowned at it, wondering who could possibly be emailing you this late but then you recognized the sender.

It was the reply you'd been waiting on from the organizers from the Celebrity Host Haunted House. Clicking the email open, your eyes scanned the message. The organizer was setting you up with a private tour, TONIGHT. "9 pm," you finished reading aloud, relief flooding your entire body. It meant a long assed, sleepless night whilst you wrote your article, but it was better than the looming threat of unemployment. Plus, on the upside, as it was a charity gig the organizer had pulled out the big guns and the blurb on the email told you that it was to feature none other than Lucas Lee, a once-upon-a-time famous A-List Movie star, who was possibly just as arrogant as Hugh Ransom Drysdale, but you had to give it to him, in the films you’d seen he was actually damned good, and also pretty hot so…every cloud.

Glancing at your clock, you had just enough time to clock out and grab a quick bite at a drive thru on your way. The location was nearly an hour outside the city so you needed to get gone and fast. A quick reply telling the organizer you were on your way was sent out and you grabbed your coat, pulling it on over your sweater dress and were gone.

It took a good hour like you'd estimated and that was with stopping for a quick meal, to reach the address your GPS brought you to. It was creepy even at its first glance so you could only hope this payed off. With a quick swig of your watered down and flat fountain drink, you grabbed your bag and phone, exiting your vehicle and locking it shut. The cool night air bit at your exposed cheeks and you were glad you'd worn your coat and tights.

As you stood, gazing at the dilapidated house you shivered, as though, ice had replaced you spine. The walkway leading up to house was cracked, blood red roses grew wildly in thick batches by the gate and the moonlight cast a ghoulish glow on the house. Vines formed a twisted maze upon the side of the of the house's walls which showed the black decay of neglect, in between which splotches of original paint hinted at the house’s former prosperity. Cobwebs covered the corners of the doors, tiny black spiders threading towards their prey and you gave another shudder, as far as first impressions went, yeah, it was fitting for a Halloween Haunted House tour.

Pulling out your phone, noticing you had no reception (of course you wouldn’t, wasn’t that the cliché?) you took a few photos to use in the article and then gave a little squeak as the door creaked open on its own. Arching your eyebrow slightly, in a manner very much like the man you were here to meet, you strode forward and into the house. Immediately a musty, dank odour crept into your nose. The house was deadly silent except for the intermittent creaks and moans typically associated with a property that age. Black and brown mold dotted the ceiling of the tall hallway you stood in and the windows that framed the door on either side were covered with grime and dirt meaning the calm moonlight struggled to penetrate the darkness in thin thread rays, the main source of light being the open doorway. Sharp shadows roamed around the room and as your eyes adjusted to the dim light you noticed that there was a bright white envelope almost perched on the wooden table to the side of the hall. It was the newest thing in the room, so was obviously there for you.

You crossed over, the heels of your suede boots clicking loudly out in the silence of the hallway, and gently reached out for the envelope. A single word- Start- was written on the front in cursive, looping scrawl, very fitting for a spooky note. Another detail you committed to memory for your write up. You slid your finger into the crook of the envelope and slid it open. Inside was a small, white card, containing a message written in the same writing.

To ensure that you don’t become tomorrow’s big news, In this envelope you’ll find the first of 6 clues Of your super sleuth skills you should be proud, So make sure that you read your answers out loud. As one by one they lead to your ultimate demise. Which may or may not be a scary surprise…

Okay, now you were interested. This wasn’t just a walk through some scary assed, supposedly haunted house where Lucas Lee was no doubt set to jump out at you in some ridiculous disguise. This was a scavenger hunt, and your natural inquisitiveness was piqued. 'This could be fun', you thought as you reached for the next card that was in the envelope, reading the first clue.

I’m tall when I’m young, and I’m short when I’m old. I also give heat but, not enough to prevent cold

You pondered for a second, heat was leading you to think of a fire, and they certainly grew shorter with time, well eventually when they burnt out…but then again, the longer they went the hotter they got, and they certainly prevented the cold. Scanning the hallway for anything that might fit the description, your eyes flicked up to the ceiling which held an elaborate, but tarnished candelabra style chandelier. And then it hit you. Tall when young, short when old.

“Candle…” you spoke “The answer is Candle…”

At that the door leading to the outside slammed shut behind you, and you gave an involuntary scream as the dominant source of light was sealed off. You spun round to look at it, and then your scream turned in to a laugh as you shook your head, for an Investigative Reporter you prided yourselves on steely nerves but so far that was twice this adventure had caught you off guard.

A closer look revealed the discoloration of the water, a brownish concoction as it swirled down the plug. There was an envelope on the side of the counter by the lantern and as you crossed towards it, a movement in your peripheral made you spin round only to see a lone mouse scuttling away across the dirty wooden floor. You placed your phone down, flash-light up causing it to light up an area of the Artex plaster ceiling, and picked up the envelope, tearing it open to find your next clue

Mr Jack-o-Lantern lights the night His eerie face is shining bright The ????? that shaped him lies around And holds your next clue safe and sound

“Oh come on…” you muttered, “That’ ones obvious. Knife, the answer is knife…” You picked up your phone and shone it around the various surfaces of the kitchen and your eyes honed in on a wooden knife block containing a solitary knife. You crossed the room towards it and as you closed in on it, you noticed that the handle of the knife was an ornate silver filigree. It was no ordinary kitchen knife and as you pulled it form the block you realised it was in fact a dagger, antique by the looks of things. The blade was curved slightly, reaching a sharp point, the silver tarnished. But the more you looked at it, the more you suddenly became horribly aware that it wasn’t merely a dullness of colour at all. It was blood.

“Dramatic…” you mumbled, and with a sigh you then realised there was no clue attached to it. Was this a distraction? A decoy? You were just about to stat ransacking drawers to find the actual knife you needed, when you glanced back at the block the dagger had been held in and noticed a flash of white peeking from underneath. Picking it up and moving it aside you smiled as you saw the same cursive writing, spelling out the word three. Seeing as you might as well play along, you used the dagger to slit the envelope open, tossing it back down on the counter as you read the next clue.

Many a Child on me they may play Any time be it night or day. My surface is hard, on it you can knock I have many keys, but can’t open a single lock…

“What has keys but doesn't open a lock?" You pondered aloud. Adjusting your cross-body strap, you sigh. Then the answer came to you, "a piano."

You fell silent, your mind racing to how the hell you were going to find a piano in this decrepit and yet enormous house. Then, your ears heard it. The subtle note from deep inside the house. It was a single key. But now that wasn't your concern, no, it wasn't the mice or the bugs or even the brown water. Your heart raced at the notion that someone was in fact in the house with you.

"Alright, Lee, you were always one for a flare of the dramatics, let's see what you've got."

Finally, to your left you heard the key loud and clear. It was in that room. Steeling yourself for a possible encounter, you carefully pushed the sliding door away from its hinge. Your booted feet traipsed across the brittle carpet, dust swirling in the air in front of your face. Cobwebs adorned many of the surfaces and there were dirty white sheets covering the various pieces of furniture in the room. Apart from, that is, the large ornate grand piano that sat in the middle of the room.

The stool in front of it suddenly jolted back and tilted toward you, making you scream at the gracious invitation by an as of yet invisible host.

With slow, deliberate steps you moved towards the piano, your eyes sweeping over the mahogany surface, searching for an envelope with the next clue, but there was none to be found. The surface of the piano was thick with dust and grime, but as you scanned over it you suddenly stopped. On one of the white keys the dust was disturbed, as if it had been wiped away and you instantly realised that had to be the key that your so far elusive host must have been playing. You paused, biting at the nail on your thumb of you right hand, before you reached out with your left and tapped the key. The melodic note rang around the room, clearly, echoing in the silence and for some reason you were taken back to a part of the article you had been thinking about earlier that day, and how Detective Blanc had told you that he had ‘played a key’ during the various family interviews ‘to make my point without interruption’. It didn’t pass you by how fitting that actually was at that moment but you didn’t have much time to reflect on it, as you heard a creak and a grinding noise and you spun to your left to see a panel in the wall sliding open. It made you jump slightly, but this time you didn’t scream.

“Well, in for a penny…” you muttered, crossing towards the small hatch. It was just wide enough for you to get your hand into, but you really didn’t want to. You grabbed your torch and shone it into the hole, finding nothing but the envelope so deciding it was safe you reached in and pulled it out.

Sometimes coloured, sometimes plain sometimes frosted, sometimes stain Be you short or thin, or fat or tall, this simple invention, lets you look right through a wall

You pondered for a moment, before the answer came to you. Fairly quickly you might add. Feeling a little smug you smiled and cleared your throat.

“Window. It’s a window.”

Usually, at that point, something happened to point your attention to the place you should be looking but this time, there was nothing. Instinctively you looked out of the one on the wall by the piano, but as you stared at nothing but the darkness outside you realised that was too obvious. Just then your ears picked up a sound you couldn’t quite figure out, but it was familiar all the same. And then it came to you, it was the familiar click and clack of a skateboard, the wheels gliding over the brittle old floor and you span round in the direction it was coming from to see a window you hadn’t noticed before, this one was an ornate, stained glass window which bore some kind of flower design that faced directly out into the hall.

He passed by slower than a flash but just enough to allow you to catch only a glimpse. You audibly gasped, your breath coming in a sharp intake of fright, because until then you had been alone on this chase. But it appeared you dramatic host had finally come out to play. He was merely a shadow, bulky in frame, tall and dressed all in black as he moved past but it was enough to puzzle you. You didn’t remember Lucas being that broad, or tall. With a frown you ran into the hall to catch him but saw nothing, and heard nothing, the only thing to indicate he had been there was a faint smell of the cedar and amber of what you assumed to be cologne.

You paced quickly down the hall in the direction the figure had gone but as you passed the stairwell the light flickered on, instantly attracting your attention. You’d only briefly noticed the ornate staircase before, but with the lack of light you certainly hadn’t noticed the writing on the wall, dripping in fresh paint. Swallowing, as you mouth suddenly felt dry with fear you stepped onto the first stair, and as soon as you did you were plunged into almost complete black. Letting out a shriek as, once again, he’d managed to get the drop on you, you shook your head and reached for your phone, taking another few steps up so you were level with the next clue which you read aloud.

“Tonight is not all fright and fear, a trick or treat is waiting near, the bedroom holds a sweet surprise, there solve the clue to claim your prize.” You bit your lip and looked up at the top of the stairs, wondering when someone was going to jump out at you. Taking a deep breath, you made your way up, cringing at each creak your feet caused on the old warped wood, but it didn’t sway your determination to make it to your destination.

Halfway up, a shadow flickered at the corner of your vision at the top on the landing and you froze, your mouth going dry once more. As you stood there, shining your light into the dark you caught the same scent from moments ago lingering in the air only this time it was stronger, far more powerful and you were able to denote even more of the notes within. Alongside the amber and cedar your heightened senses picked up deep, earthy, sandalwood notes with a hint of citrus in the background. And it was familiar for reasons beyond the fact you’d smelt it down stairs. But, as you’d surmised earlier, it was a cologne. Probably one worn by a few people you knew.

Yes that was it.

“Jesus Christ Y/N what has gotten into you?” You rolled your eyes and continued up the stairs, clearly your ‘Celebrity Host’ was once more nearby.

You cautiously got to the top of the stairs and glanced around. Nothing. So turning to your left you entered the first room you found on the hall. It was empty bar a creepy looking doll that had been separated from its head which lay about a foot to the right. As you looked around the room, the wind intensified outside, the rustling of the leaves and branches became louder, as did the creaking of the house…and then you gulped, as you realised it wasn’t just the house that was creaking. In the corner of the room, the little chair had begun to rock, slowly. Blowing out a breath and shaking your head, you looked around at the thin strips of wallpaper which showed little trucks. Crayon markings scrambled upon the wall where wallpaper used to stick but other than that there was nothing in there bar some pretty good theatrics. You had to hand it to Lee, the creepy feel was fantastic and you were going to give him one hell of a write up for this. You took a while longer to take in the detail, smiling to yourself before you closed the door and headed to the one over the hallway.

This room was a little lighter thanks to a lamp which stood on a nightstand. It wasn’t bright, by any means, but it was enough so that you could clearly see the bed in the middle of the room. And there, placed by the pillows was a thin box. On unsteady legs, you shuffled slowly towards the bed, the box before you making you quiver, your insides churning. A shaky hand tilted the lid open slowly, afraid something would pounce in a sneak attack. You shut your eyes ready to protect them in case a bat or bugs flew at you and when nothing happened, you opened them slowly and inspected the boxes contents. There was no envelope this time, just copy of a newspaper. Your newspaper. And you felt your blood run cold as you recognise the bold headline across the top. Murder, He Wrote: A twisted tale of Inheritance, Crime and Exoneration "Drysdale," you whispered in realization. But now, while you were well aware of what the article meant and who it was referring to, your brain shut down processing how on earth Lucas Lee and Ransom could possibly be connected. Your breathing deepened and you moved to pick up the article, but then the lid to the box caught your eye and you froze, for on the inside of the lid was another clue, only this one was a straight forward question which was spelled out using cut-out letters from the newspaper in question.

I’m light as a feather, yet the strongest person can’t hold me for five minutes. What am I?

You froze, for the answer was simple. Breath. And that was it, you needed to get out. You started to back away from the bed, but before you had so much as made it 3 steps you collided with something hard. A forceful arm across your front pinned you to a firm and broad chest that engulfed your frame while a cloth with a distinct smell and cool moisture covered your airways.

"Surprise" The voice in your ear, calm, deep and known, was all you heard before nothing consumed you.

*****

When Y/N went limp in his arms, Ransom laid her across the bed only leaving the room to hurriedly cover his tracks, blowing out candles and removing any trace of her that had been in the house. His time as his grandfather's research assistant gave him far more experience than it should have. When he returned to the bedroom she was still out cold but light as a feather as he carried her downstairs and out the back door to the awaiting SUV, smug that his plan had gone so well.

But then, didn’t everything for him? He was Ransom Drysdale, and he was fucking untouchable.

He drove away from the scene of his new crime towards the city, driving through the dead of night, on the beltway, and continued twenty minutes outside downtown Boston before pulling into the garage of a large red cedar and quartzite home. He killed the engine and closed the garage door, pulling Y/N from the seat she was slumped in when it was clear to do so.

He couldn't be seen, he wouldn't be seen. He carried her inside the spacious home, his boots tapping heavily against the dark marble floor of the kitchen and finally the lush carpeted staircase that wound down into the basement.

This is where he laid her, in the basement, on a bed, but not just any bed, the one that would now become hers. He adjusted the lighting in the space, low enough not to disturb her, but bright enough to give the room a glow so he could finish what he'd set out to do. In the shock of the struggle in the bedroom, she’d dropped her phone and he’d made sure to smash it long before he left the haunted house, making sure there'd be no device to track her. He'd already disposed of her car while she was playing his little game, every loose end as far as he could see was tied up.

And now she was all his.

He brushed the hair away from Y/N’s face where it had fallen over her eyes. With gloved hands he manoeuvred her undone, black woollen coat off her body, leaving her in the bottle green turtle neck sweater dress and thick tights she was wearing before he tossed it over the chair in the corner of the room and then undid the zips on her brown suede knee high boots. He dropped them to the floor, kicking them towards the same corner with the equal carelessness he’d shown her coat. With a final meticulous movement he rearranged her on the bed, so he’d appear more comfortable and just before he left the room, he wrapped the cool, metallic cuff around the ankle. It locked in place with a clink and with a final glance at her still unconscious form, he turned and exited the room, the door latching shut and with the snap of the deadbolt he locked her in.

*****

Your head pounded, your nose burned and your mouth felt dry with the faintest taste of something foul lingering as you swallowed. The light was low but still your eyes ached. You tried to decipher exactly what the hell had happened to you while you got your bearings. You tried to sit up but your body felt heavy, the soft bed you now realized you were lying on was not your own. Your breathing rapidly increased as you started to move in fear but a clink caused a screech to escape your throat. You felt the weight of the cuff around your ankle and a full panic set it.

Your night flashed quickly through your glutamate and adrenaline flooded brain

You remembered getting the email from the Haunted Mansion supposedly hosted by Lucas Lee. You had arrived and were sent on what you thought was a fun and exhilarating maze littered with clues and riddles and then you remembered the last piece of the puzzle. You gasped as you remembered how his breath felt hot on your skin and how his voice registered in your mind.

"Drysdale," you repeated the last word you had spoken in a shaky, frightful voice. "No."

Rage and fear collided in your chest as you screamed out the only thing you could think of, "HELP!" A strangled sound left your chest followed by another cry out for help, "Please, someone, HELP!"

The door to your room, now coming into focus around you, flew open and there he stood, smug smirk, raging ocean blue eyes, hair neatly in place, dismantling frame clothed in a black sweater and dark denim, heavy footfalls sounding against the thick carpet under his feet.

"Nice to see someone's awake," Ransom deadpanned.

You stared for a brief moment and screamed for help again, louder, and louder, and louder until you felt your voice crack and strain, your cords burning as the sound shattered away.

"Are you done?" He cocked his head to the side and folded his arms across his chest as he stood firm and tall in front of the bed.

"What the hell are you doing? Why am I here?" It hurt to speak but you had to ask.

“Because I want you here, Sweetheart.”

"I...I'm not, don't call me that," you spat defiantly as he moved closer, taking you in, his predatory eyes moving over your body. This was it, you were going to die all because some trust fund prick was a hurt baby about an article (that you forcibly apologized for) revealing the sick and sadistic truth about him, his family, money and the justice system.

"Are you gonna kill me?” You watched him carefully as he crossed the room towards you, trying to keep your voice calm so as not to betray the utter fear that was coursing through your veins at the fact you were trapped, fuck knows where, shackled to a bed with a murderer being your captor. “That's what this is about, right? My apology wasn't enough?"

"Your apology was forced bullshit.” He responded, his voice carried a hint of amusement, because of course, this was all a game to him. “You smeared my name, dragged my reputation though the mud and you expected an apology like that, half assed and full of more crap than your original hatchet piece, to be enough?" He was standing damn near over you now, a hand moving up your leg that was held by the cuff, your body frozen in a confused silent argument of fight or flight.

"You... Killed... Him." You grit out through clenched teeth, and his hand was on your throat before you finished your breath, squeezing just enough to make a point.

"No. I. Didn't." He lied and you had to hand it to him, a lesser person might have bought the garbage he was talking, because he was good at it. Lying must have been enough of a second nature for him that he actually believed everything he said himself. But then again, it wasn't actually a lie was it? Sure, he'd planned on indirectly killing Harlan and that plan had backfired and Harlan had actually slit his own throat. So at most he was indirectly responsible for his death, but none of that had stuck with the prosecution and so now here he was, a free man.

A struggled chuckle came from your tightened throat, "Jesus Christ, you actually believe your own bull shit don't you?"

"You've got a fucking mouth on you," he breathed as his body loomed ominously over the bed and your frame, tiny in comparison to his.

You swallowed, feeling the hard lump strain to pass his grip, "Not really, you just don't like hearing the truth."

His eyes bored into yours and you struggled for breath as his hand constricted around your neck whilst he squeezed a little harder "Oh shut up Y/N."

"Or what, Hugh?" You croaked.

A little flash of anger tore through his ocean blue eyes like lightning in a storm. His eyes bored into yours as you fought to swallow.

"Or I'll shut you up myself."

"Try me, you son of a...." You didn't expect his lips to cover yours but they did. Unexpectedly warm and soft, despite the painfully harsh kiss. You managed to pull away but his hand still gripped at your throat and you felt the fear constricting your chest. But you were damned if you were going to show him a shred of weakness.

“You’re an asshole, Hugh…” It was all you had, the only thing you could use in your arsenal given your situation. You still had your voice. And you’d noticed that for whatever reason he appeared to hate that name.

“Don’t... fucking call me that!” his voice rose to a loud, angry instruction, apoplectic rage seeping from him to you, and it was almost stifling.

“Or what? You'll kill me?” your voice rose in both volume and pitch as your desperation began to show. “We both know you're gonna do that once you've fulfilled whatever sick, twisted little fantasy this is. What are you waiting for, Hugh? Huh?”

Ransom scoffed, "Kill you, no, see I'm gonna teach you a lesson. One about how money and status get you anything you want.”

You frowned, as you looked into his icy blue eyes, utterly confused “Anything you want? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You'll see Princess” was the sole explanation you got as he knelt between your legs.

You stayed stock still as large and surprisingly gentle hands trailed your curves up the outside of your thighs to your hips. As he reached the hem of your sweater dress he paused as you wrapped your hands around his wrists.

"Don't" you squeezed, attempting to stop his wrists and close your legs.

“This will be much easier if you just play-along, sweetheart” he muttered as he pressed his lips to your neck. You let go of his wrists and raised your hands, laying them over the wool of his cable knit, palms flat against the plain of muscle as you attempted to push him off.

“I said no.” you tried to keep your voice stern, despite the fact you were fighting back the fear and sadness at the realization of his task was now at hand. His large hands smoothed over your dress, cupping your breasts and he let out a moan as you bit back the bile in your throat that was threatening to spill from your mouth. You pushed harder trying to force him off of you but it was of no use, his broad frame caged you in, engulfing you under him.

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.” He ground out, his lips inches from your ear as he nipped at your skin. He was impressively strong and balanced, his weight even through his body as he kept his knees between your legs, a hand against your breast and the other stroking your sides and up your thigh. All the while, his lips sucked at your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point as you turned your head away, tears filling your eyes

"Please, stop," you managed. "Hugh, stop!"

“I told you not to call me that.” He growled against your skin and pulled back, his eyes blazing as they locked on to yours. In sheer desperation, you managed to wrench a free hand from between you and gave him a slap, nails biting at his skin. Instantly you knew you’d pissed him off. His nostrils flared, his jaw set and as his eyes filled with fire and rage.

And you knew then, you were in for it.

“Bitch…” he snarled as he raised his left hand to his face where you had struck him, and then both his hands grabbed yours, yanking your arms up, pinning them above your head. You bucked upwards, violently in an attempt to shake him off, but it was futile. He was far too strong. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and despite yourself you let out a small whimper of fear.

In one hand he had the ability to cuff both of your wrists and he did so while his other grabbed at your dress, shoving it further up your body, fingers curling over the waist of your tights and panties, a handful of the material fisted in his palm. They wouldn't slide down quick enough and you felt your body lift away from the mattress slightly as he ripped away the material, the snap burning your skin. You fought, boy did you fight. You had no control of your hands or arms as he had them easily pinned, but your legs and the rest of your body gave as good as they could. You thrashed from side to side all the time screaming your objections. You drew your knees up to your chest in an attempt to buck him off. You screamed protests, threw every insult you had at him, but it was no use. He was simply too strong.

He didn't even bother with his belt or button, he just unzipped the flies on his jeans, pulled his solid cock free and slid in. You were wetter than you expected to be, but it still burned with friction and ached from the thick stretch against your tight walls. It hurt, definitely hurt.

"You know you want this. I know you want this." He rasped as he pulled out before thrusting back in, his face twisted in a look that was halfway between being smug and satisfied. Just looking at him made you feel sick but for some reason you were unable to look away as he continued his slow assault, before he picked up the pace slightly, his groans of satisfaction filling the room as he bottomed out, balls deep and it was at that point you closed your eyes and tried to block out what he was doing to you. But try as you might to remain mentally detached from the situation, your body was anything but. And the more he moved in and out of you, the more you could feel your physical reactions. You were powerless to stop them and the heat between your legs and in between your belly was spiking with each thrust into you.

It felt good. And you knew it shouldn’t. So you fought it, but eventually, you couldn't fight it anymore, not with the way his thick cock filled you, velvety smooth skin sliding in and out of your defiant core. You didn't want to cum, but your body told your brain it was going to and Ransom nearly puffed his chest as he fucked you into your body's submission.

"You're gonna fucking cum, aren't you, Sweetheart? I can feel it," he ground out, chasing his own release. You remained silent, breathing heavily as your insides coiled and tightened. "Fucking tight ass pussy," he gritted. You refused to cry out, not wanting to give him anything you were able not to, and it took everything you had to remain silent. In desperation, to quell the cry that was rising from your throat, you bit your tongue, tasting the coppery taste of blood in your mouth as you came hard around his cock.

“Fuck, yeah…see…” Ransom’s hips began to move faster, and then with a sudden movement he pulled out of you, making you wince involuntarily at the sting. He shot his load all over your thighs, a growl bubbling from his throat, the warmth of his release trickling down your leg made you feel even more dirty than you already did.

“Not so fucking smart are we now, huh, miss Investigative Reporter…” his snap was snide, and childish, but you knew he couldn’t help himself. Your head remained defiantly in its position on the pillow, turned to the right, eyes focussed on a spot on the wall. “Look at me, bitch.”

When you didn’t do as he asked, he grabbed your chin bruisingly, making you wince as he pulled your face round so he could see you. You knew he would be able to see the tears on your face, and you hated that. Hated that he would see how much he’d hurt you, scared you even,

His hand let go of your face and you stared at him, swallowing, trying to gather your voice in your painfully dry throat.

"That's all you got? You're a fucking child, Drysdale. It's why you’re doing this." You said, your voice trembling and croaking from the fear and exertion of what he had just put you through and you shook your head. “You’re a fucking man child with mommy and daddy issues. A spoilt, little whiney brat who can’t bear to be told no.”

That struck a nerve, you could tell, as his jaw clenched tight and his fists clenched around the sheets by your side to the point they were shaking. He grabbed your chin once more with his right hand and pinned your face still, forcing your eyes to look back at his

“You'll be begging me to accept your apology.” He snarled, his face contorted in rage “You'll see who the whiney child is soon enough. I promise Princess, it's not me”

As you looked at him, you felt your anger starting to simmer. This fucking ass hole had just raped you, and he had the gall to be saying you were going to tell him that you were sorry. No chance in hell. You knew you were screwed, literally and figuratively. Whilst he had you captive behind a bolted door, shackled to a bed you had nowhere to go, he knew that you knew that too and you could see it in his face as a smug smirk flickered on his lips. Well fuck this, if you were going down it was with a fight. With a sudden movement, that caught him off guard you moved your head slightly as much as you could in his painful grip, and spat right in his face.

Ransom blinked, his anger morphing to shock, then back to fury once more as he released your face and with a flash of his hand he back handed you straight across the face. The blow to your right cheek snapped your head to the left, sucking the breath from your lungs and leaving you a little dazed.

“Fuck you.” He sneered as he rose to his feet, wiping his face. Silently he rearranged his pants, tucking his now soft cock back inside them, and swept from the room, locking the door behind him.

***** Ransom stormed up the steps to the kitchen of the house, slamming the top door behind him and bolting that one shut too. He was furious that little bitch had scratched him and no doubt marked his face. He strode over the marble tiles of the room and walked into the large hallway and across into the den. He made his way straight to the bar, poured himself a healthy measure of good scotch, slopping a little on the dark wooden counter, before he glanced up at the large mirrored surface of the bar behind the shelves.

He could make out three vivid red lines down his left cheek where she’d dug her nails into his flesh and his jaw clenched. His hair was out of place, his cheeks flushed and his normally cold eyes were blazing with anger. But as he stood there staring at his dishevelled reflection, he knew it wasn’t the fact she’d scratched or spat at him that was pissing him off so much. It was the fact she had persistently voiced a name he despised, one that was used to control those lower than him in his every-day life. One reserved for The Help, for outsiders. It reminded him of his family, of his mother and father, the two people in his life who should have loved him unconditionally but instead had him out of ‘duty’ and had taken every opportunity to pass him off into the care of others they could. It reminded him of Walt persistently telling him he was a no-one, that he would amount to nothing over than a trust-fund baby.

It reminded him of Harlan. The one person in that entire fucked up patriarchy that had shown him an ounce of care. But who had screwed him over in the end.

The anger that had been simmering inside him boiled over, the blood pumped into his ear and with an angry yell and an almost involuntary action Ransom hurled the glass tumbler straight at the wall where it smashed against the tasteful silver and white wallpaper, the 25 year old single malt trickling down the wall…just like the tears and trickled down Y/N’s cheeks as he’d forced her to look at him whilst he took what was his.

As she’d glared up at him he’d noticed a fierceness in her eyes that he was surprised to find had unnerved him a little, because she clearly wasn’t going to be as easy to break as he thought.

“Fuck it.” He mumbled to himself, grabbing the bottle from the bar before he turned and left the room, taking a large swig as he went, the burn in his throat going someway to settling his nerves.

This would work out, because he was Ransom fucking Drysdale, a man who always got what he wanted in the end, and she was going to be no exception.

**** Part 2

#murder he wrote #j's haunted house 2020 #dark ransom #dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale #reader insert #chris evans #chris evans characters

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years

Text

champagne problems (part 1)

here's my first part of my modern no magic "champagne problems" singer-songwriter quarantine thomastair AU! happy birthday to @foxglove-airmid even though I don't think it's your birthday where you live anymore (and I still haven't posted zia's birthday fic, it'll happen I swear)!

no content warnings for this part (besides maybe quarantine), but future parts will include discussions of mental illness, substance abuse, and a suicide attempt

obviously, the song alastair "wrote" in the fic is not mine, it's by taylor swift! and a few of the lyrics have been changed!

Masterlist | AO3

Thomas breathed out a sigh of relief as he lugged his suitcase up onto the fifth floor landing.

“‘Ere we are,” Piers announced as he unlocked the door.

Thomas was utterly exhausted, such was the result of taking a redeye flight across the Atlantic during a global pandemic, but any idea of rest that he’d had was interrupted when he heard the sound of piano flood the apartment.

“Ah, sorry about that,” Piers nodded, “One of my flatmates, the walls are paper thin. He can’t record at the studio right now, but he’s trying to finish his EP, so it’s been a bit noisier around here. He’ll take a break soon, hopefully.”

Thomas shook his head. “It’s no problem. Thank you, again, for allowing me to stay here. I’ll be looking for my own place as soon as the quarantine is up.”

“Of course. You’ve got the couch as long as you need it. Couldn’t just hang you out to dry, could I? Although, you did pick a god awful time to move to the city, if I do say so myself.”

Thomas sat down on the couch and tried to make himself comfortable. It was more comfortable than the flight or the airport, at least. “I know… I considered postponing the move, but the visa was so difficult to get, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. They say this will all blow over in a couple of weeks, but borders are closing and I heard talk of them suspending all pending visa applications. I didn't know how long it would be if I waited, if the job was even still here for me at all.” Although at first entrance, the music had seemed to be a nuisance, it now comforted him. It wasn’t bad at all, in fact, it quite reminded him of the days Alastair’s playing had filled their flat…

“Where did you say you were working again? At a record company?”

“Yeah. I’m just doing pretty basic stuff for now, but if I ever do want to record my own music, I’ve got to start somewhere.”

“Hm,” Piers said, gesturing to the room the music was coming from. “Perhaps you’ll get on with him well, then. Would you like some tea?”

Thomas nodded and Piers went to start the teapot. Piers continued, “Though I suppose he's more of the tortured artist type. Very reserved, quite prickly. I didn't even meet him until a couple weeks after I moved in here because he was off in some psychiatric hospital.” Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was never one for gossip. “My other roommate’s nice, though, I think you’ll like him. He-”

“How did you end up in New York, again? I don’t think I ever asked.”

Piers dove into the subject change quite readily, explaining his uni - or college - years in New York City and his decision to stay afterwards. Thomas had tuned most of it out, truthfully. It wasn’t that he was trying to be rude, but he was rather exhausted, and Piers was wearing thin on his patience.

As the kettle started to whine, Thomas heard the musician begin to sing, and he froze. It sounded so much like Alastair. But it couldn't be, could it? With over 8 million people living in the city, he would not end up in Alastair's apartment by accident. His Alastair was certainly reserved and prickly, but it wasn't possible. It must be like all those times he thought he saw him on a street he'd never walked or heard his laugh in a café he'd never been to. Just his mind, tricking him. Even if he knew that voice so well, despite not hearing it in so long.

“It’s quite good, isn’t it? His first single just dropped.” Piers asked, bringing over his cup of tea. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d been staring intently at the door.

Thomas took the cup. “Hm? Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

“You should look it up. It’s called “champagne problems” by Simurgh. That’s spelled- Well, it should come up.”

The name Simurgh sounded familiar, but Thomas couldn’t put his finger on where he knew it from. At Piers’ insistence, he pulled out his phone and brought up the song. As he skimmed through the first few lines, a cold feeling settled in his stomach.

“You booked the night train for a reason So you could sit there in this hurt Bustling crowds or silent sleepers You're not sure which is worse”

“Simurgh,” Thomas realized.

“Yeah, I think it’s Arabic or something.”

It took Thomas a moment to process that Piers was responding to him. “It’s Persian.” He was certain that Alastair would have some very stern words to say if he heard Piers confusing the two, actually. Thomas had admittedly let his Farsi skills deteriorate quite a bit since the breakup, but he was fairly certain the name came from the Shahnameh. There was no doubt in Thomas’ mind now: he was staying in Alastair’s apartment, and Alastair’s first single was about one of the most painful days in Thomas’ life. “I, er, I used to study it.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right!” Piers launched into a tangent that Thomas tuned out as he read through the rest of the page.

“Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems”

“Thomas? Are you alright?”

He realized then that his hand was trembling so badly that his tea nearly spilled. He used his other hand to steady it. “Oh, uh, yes, I’m just tired.”

“Perhaps you should rest. I can ask Alastair to quiet down for a while-”

“No!” he exclaimed rather too forcefully. “No, that’s not necessary. I’d just rather not talk, if that’s alright.”

Piers nodded.

Thomas kept reading.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it Champagne problems”

Of all the songs, why did he release the one about him? Why was it about a memory still so painful in Thomas’ heart, all of these years later? He remembered it so well, standing there, alone, shattered into a million pieces.

“You told your family for a reason You couldn't keep it in Your sister splashed out on the bottle Now no one's celebrating”

He was fairly certain that Barbara had been more excited than even he was, confident that Alastair would accept, and so very proud of her baby brother, all grown up. She’d been furious when it fell apart, but it was her who stood with him during the aftermath, who boarded him onto a train to Edinburgh to visit Eugenia when he couldn’t stand to be in the same city as him any longer, who went through his phone, blocking all of Alastair’s accounts so that he could obsess over him no longer, who comforted him as he wept and held him as he picked the pieces of himself back up again.

And all the more sour was the memory in light of her death.

“Dom Pérignon, you brought it No crowd of friends applauded Your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems”

He looked up at Piers, who had fortunately become enthralled with something on his phone and was no longer paying Thomas any mind. He lifted the teacup gingerly to his lips, but he felt far too sick to take a drink.

“You had a speech, you're speechless Love slipped beyond your reaches And I couldn't give a reason Champagne problems”

A reason, that’s all Thomas had wanted. Just any explanation. He understood if they were moving too fast, or perhaps he’d misread something, but he just didn’t understand it.

Why? Why can’t you tell me why? I deserve an explanation, Alastair. Please, anything.

I… I’m sorry, Thomas.

Stop it! Stop apologizing! We can just go home and pretend this never happened, please, forget about all of it, it was a stupid idea-

Thomas, stop. I shouldn’t’ve… This was a mistake. I’m sorry I didn’t see that sooner.

That was the moment Thomas felt his heart stop beating.

“Your Midas touch on the Chevy door November flush and your flannel cure "This dorm was once a madhouse" I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me" How evergreen, our group of friends Don't think we'll say that word again And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls That we once walked through”

Despite the nearly two decades Thomas had spent in London before Alastair, it was never the same without him. He saw him everywhere he went, despite knowing he was thousands of miles away. After graduating uni that May, he accepted a spot at a graduate program in Spain and didn’t look back.

“One for the money, two for the show I never was ready so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you "You’re the only one I want by my side, What a shame you’re fucked in the head," you said”

Those were the words that haunted Thomas’ nightmares, even now.

It’s you! It’s only you for me! It was always going to be you! But I can see now that I was never going to be enough for you, you and your secrets and walls and your lies. It’s a shame… it’s a shame you’re so fucked in the head, Alastair. You’ll never truly love anyone, will you? You’re not physically capable of it.

Alastair hadn’t responded. Thomas had wanted a rise out of him, any reaction at all, despite knowing how lethal and volatile Alastair could become when provoked. But there was nothing. Not a flicker of anything in his steeled expression. He’d simply looked down, apologized again for any pain that he’d caused, and left.

That was the last time they’d spoken.

Thomas and his sister left for Edinburgh that night, and when he’d returned to London, Alastair was gone.

“Well, you'll find the real thing instead Who'll patch up your tapestry that I shred And hold your hand while dancing Never leave you standing Crestfallen on the landing With champagne problems”

Thomas couldn’t imagine giving his heart to anyone again, not now and certainly not then. He’d dated in Madrid, but it had always stayed casual. He’d made sure of it. He could see now that he and Alastair had gotten together quickly, moved in together quickly, done all of it very quickly. After all, he’d fallen hard and fast. He gave all of himself to Alastair, and he’d nearly lost all of himself in the process.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket New picture in your wallet You won't remember all my Champagne problems

“You won't remember all my Champagne problems”

Now, he wondered what the rest of the story was. He’d convinced himself that Alastair had never loved him, that he was heartless and cruel, though he’d known that wasn’t true. Could Alastair have written this song if he’d never truly loved him? Perhaps he was a sociopath.

Thomas felt like he should run. Like he should pick up his bag and dart out of the apartment before Alastair could notice him, find some hotel somewhere with undoubtedly extraordinary high rates and just pretend like this never happened. He could get back on a plane and go back home to his parents and delete his phone browser history and pretend like this was all just a bad dream. But he could not move.

He didn’t know how many minutes had passed before Alastair’s door opened. He looked up with a start.

“Thomas,” Alastair breathed. He stood wide eyed, flushed.

“Do you two already know each other then?” Piers asked.

There was a moment of silence before Thomas cleared his throat. “We used to,” he said, looking down.

“I, er, I forgot that your friend was coming today,” Alastair told Piers. “It’s quite a long journey from London, you should have told me, I would have been quieter.”

Thomas considered correcting him for a moment, but decided not to. “Don’t worry about it. I heard you had your first big release. Congratulations.”

Alastair gave an awkward nod. “Thank you. Right, well, I’ll just…” He rushed over to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’ll try to be a bit quieter.”

“Don’t- It’s fine, really. In fact, I’m sure there’s some hotel in the area I can stay at for now, actually-”

“Well, don’t leave on my account,” Alastair interrupted. “We agreed to let you stay here, and the city’s a bloody mess right now. I’ll stay out of your hair, Thomas.”

Thomas only nodded as Alastair disappeared back behind his bedroom door.

Thanks for reading! Taglist (ask to be +/-): @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @zosiaenrique @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @jem-nasium @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @itsjusta-j-really

#alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #thomastair #tlh #the last hours #fanfic #fanfiction #champagne problems au

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stylesluxx · 4 years

Text

no matter what – p.lahote

[warnings: one or two swears, angst, and a flashback to bullying]

summary: in which paul couldn’t protect y/n | clearwater!reader| requested!

word count: 8,561

masterlist

Every summer you came from Washington, D.C. to Forks, Washington. You were originally born in Forks, but you, your mom, and dad relocated to D.C. when you were eight, leaving behind your family. Of course, you were distraught having to leave your cousins, Seth and Leah; you were basically their sister. Your parents had you do everything together, you even wore matching outfits, as if you were triplets despite being three years older than Seth and three years younger than Leah. It was the summer the year your Uncle Harry died that changed your life. Well, actually, it started when your mom got a new job in France.

She told you the middle of your junior year that you would have to pack up and move to Europe.

You were happy for her, of course, but you wanted to finish school before they dragged you off to somewhere new. So, you spent the rest of the school year making plans and you were hoping they wouldn't fall through.

Your grandparents were more than happy to let you live with them in Forks so everything sort of fell into place. You'd be back home, finishing up high school, and you'd get to be around most of your family.

It was hard to say goodbye to your parents but you were excited to be back in La Push. Whenever you were there, you never felt out of place. As if you were stumbling everywhere else except when you were in the small village.

You got to your grandparent's house on a Friday, 8:30 in the morning, bright and early.

"So what are your plans for the summer?" Your grandfather, Peter, asked.

You just walked through the doors of the house and were about to drag your suitcases upstairs.

"Well, I hope to find a job but when I'm not working, I'll either be here or with Leah and Seth. Ya know, the usual," You shrugged and gave them a small smile. "Can't be away from my family for too long."

"Such a sweetheart," Your grandmother, Julia, cooed. "Are you going over there today?"

"Yeah, for lunch. And then I'm all yours for dinner," You nodded and grabbed the handles of your suitcases. You started on the stairs but stopped at the first step. "You know, I'm really happy to be here. Back home."

"You're not going to miss your parents?" Your grandpa questioned.

"I'll miss them; heck, I miss them already but I love Forks. Also... you guys cook and they don't," You teased before turning and continuing upstairs.

You walked to the room you always stayed in whenever you visited: your dad's old room. All the rooms were pretty small, especially compared to the room you had in D.C. but this room made you happy. You kept most of the decorations up, not wanting to ruin the nostalgia of it all, and just filled the drawers and closet with your clothes.

Lunch came quickly and all your clothes were unpacked. Your parents were going to send the rest of your things over so that would be your task for next week.

You practically jumped down the stairs trying to get to Seth and Leah. You bid your grandparents a quick goodbye before bursting through the front door and into Leah's arms.

You squeezed her tight as she laughed and you pulled away and pulled in Seth. At first glance, you didn't realize how different they looked.

"I missed you guys so much it's crazy," You squealed, but it was muffled since your head was in Seth's shoulder. You pulled away and got a good look at them, your eyes growing wide.

They had matching tattoos which you'd admit was kind of cute, but it still took you by surprise. And Seth was no longer scrawny and five foot eight. He was at least six feet now, still lanky, and his hair was cut down super short. And Leah who was also five foot eight was now maybe five foot ten and her hair was in a short pixie cut.

"OMG, you guys cut your hair. And are these tattoos? Guys, what the fuck happened? You guys got these after the funeral?" Your happy demeanor was snatched away and replaced with concern, your arms crossed over your chest, and your eyes narrowed.

"It's a bit of a long story," Seth chuckled and rubbed the back of his head.

"Okay, well I live here now, I have all the time in the world. Are you, like, going through a phase? Should I call for an intervention?"

"No, it's not like we're going drugs," Seth scoffed but kept a playful grin on his face.

"Y/N, let's not be so dramatic. Come on before mom starts calling," Leah shook her head before going to the car.

"Alright alright," You eased up and put your hands in the air as a sign of surrender.

You sighed and tried to wrap an arm around Seth's shoulder but once you realized he was six feet tall, it was a little bit harder to do. But to make you feel better, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and squeezed you tight.

"You sure you're not on steroids?" You teased and looked up at him.

"Positive!" He laughed.

You got to the other Clearwater house in town and were practically bouncing in excitement.

"Hi, Aunt Sue! How are you?" You asked as you kissed her cheeks and hugged her.

"Better now that you're back in town," She replied and rubbed your back. "A little birdie told me that you're staying for the school year."

You nodded and pulled away so you could sit at the kitchen table. Seth had brought in the chair that was specifically for you when you came to visit and you thanked him.

"'Little birdie' as in Grandpa. That man can't hold water," You shook your head.

Leah came and sat next to you after she finished setting up the plates. Seth sat across from her, and once your Aunt was done placing the food at the table she sat at one end. The other end was your Uncle's spot that remained empty.

Leah squeezed your hand once she noticed you staring into space. You blinked back tears and looked at her and the soft smile that adorned her face.

"You should come to the beach tomorrow and meet our friends," Seth said, an attempt to get your mind off of things.

"Yeah, sure, that sounds good. I just bought a new bikini," You nodded and forced a smile.

You didn't realize how hard it was to be here without your uncle. And now your home felt a little empty. But maybe a beach day would help.

Around noon the next day, Leah was driving you and Seth to the beach, though it was a quick walk from where you lived.

You grabbed your beach bag and followed behind Leah to the group of people you saw huddled on the sand. You thought you'd be surrounded by boys all day until you spotted Emily, your other cousin.

"Y/N!" She gasped and pulled you into a bear hug once you got close enough.

"Hi, Em! I've been doing so much hugging lately, but I could never forget you give the best ones," You smiled and hugged her back.

"Hey!" Seth interjected.

"Seth, don't get jealous," You teased and shoved him lightly once you were released from Emily's arms.

"Never, I know I'm your favorite cousin," He smirked. "Guys, this is our cousin Y/N, the one that visits every summer. She's gonna be living here until she graduates."

Seth addressed everyone and then introduced them all to you, except for Jacob. You guys used to hang out as kids too. He'd sometimes come over with another girl from Forks and the three of you would play together.

You smiled and waved at them all, your eyes met with all of theirs but you were stuck on the last boy Seth introduced. Paul.

He had brown eyes, short black hair, and had almost the same build as Seth but was muscular. He was definitely a La Push boy and he was perfect to you.

"I can't have anything..." You heard Leah grumble from behind you, making your eyes move to look at her.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, embarrassed at the fact that you were staring at him. But he was staring back so maybe nobody else would think it was weird, but that was unlikely.

Seth sat on a towel and pulled out down next to him, giving you a bright smile. You always loved Seth. Your parents told you that you had to warm up to Leah, but ever since you met Seth, you were two peas in a pod. But Leah, she understood you on a level no one else did. Somehow you got lucky with the best of both worlds.

"So, what do you plan on doing once you graduate?" Emily asked and moved your bag from your lap and set it with the other bags.

"I'm taking a gap year in France!" You spoke excitedly.

You felt everyone's eyes fall on you, making your smile fall slightly. You didn't exactly enjoy being the center of attention, especially since you didn't know the group too well.

"Y/N, you never told me that," Seth spoke up.

"Uh, yes I did. You just don't listen."

"That's a bit far don't you think?" Emily asked and you just shrugged in response.

Sure it was far, but it's not like you were leaving anything behind here; you'd see everyone the next summer.

"Yeah, but I like traveling and it's only for a year. then I'll be back in the states for college. Maybe the east coast, they have a bunch of schools to choose from."

Your eyes searched for Leah's but they found Paul's instead. They were distant and cool but once he recognized you were looking at him, they softened.

You looked away quickly and found Leah's eyes, practically pleading for help.

"I'm hot," She said, not too loud so it wasn't an obvious diversion but it was loud enough that everyone heard. "Come to the water with me?"

She was looking right at you and you nodded. You stood up and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the water.

You slipped off your flip flops and let the water hit your toes as you sighed.

"Thanks," You mumbled.

"Yeah, that's kind of what big cousins are for, saving your butt.”

You stood in the water for a while before grabbing your beach towels and laying them out. You were a bit away from the group, but Leah didn't mind.

You stripped from your shorts and tank top so you were only in your swimsuit. You laid on the towel next to Leah and tanned for maybe an hour two. You tried to learn a bit more about the group, specifically Paul but Leah had no real interest in talking to or about them, so you just let it go. But as you tanned, you watched them talk and play soccer, or talk as they scarfed down some sandwiches Emily made.

You were back in the water, now playfully splashing each other. All day you felt eyes on you that you just couldn't shake but for some reason, it was bothering you now. It reminded you of when you brought up your plans for next year and everyone kept their eyes on you, not breaking contact.

"So, is there a problem with me going away next year?" You asked Leah after getting one last splash in. "Why was everyone looking at me?"

She was silent for a moment as if she were stuck in her thoughts, having an inner dialogue with herself.

"It's just a little... complicated," She shrugged, making you roll your eyes.

"You know, you've changed a lot, Leah. I used to be able to read you like a children's book but now... I guess I'll accept that some things change and some things are need-to-know," You huffed out and started to walk back toward the sand. "I think I'm ready to head home now."

You started packing your things, not wanting to be there any longer. And you felt bad you were cutting Leah's day short, but honestly, it didn't seem like she wanted to be there anyway.

"Y/N, you're leaving?" Seth asked as you walked over to where he was stretched out.

"Yeah, I'm tired," You nodded and forced out a yawn. "It was really nice to meet you all."

From the corner of your eye, you see one boy who you remember to be Jared, nudge Paul, causing him to speak up.

"I can drive you home, I was just about to head out anyway," Paul said, looking you right in the eyes.

It was the first time he had spoken to you directly and something about it moved you to a sense of euphoria. Like, if he ever stopped talking the world around you would crash and burn. If he ever stopped looking at you the way he did, the way his eyes softened at the sight of you, you would disappear into thin air. It was a pull and connection you never felt before and you never wanted to stop feeling it.

You looked over at Leah, to get her approval but she was looking at Paul cautiously before looking over at you. She nodded and you turned back to him and nodded.

He didn't bother packing up whatever things he brought, he just stood up and motioned for you to follow him.

You waved goodbye to the others and ruffled Seth's hair as you left. You were walking to his right when you noticed his tattoo.

"Leah and Seth have that tattoo too," You blurted out.

He looked at you and down at the tattoo as if he forgot it was even there.

"Oh yeah, we all have one," He shrugged.

"What's it for? Like does it mean anything?"

"It's just for our little group."

It was a vague response, his tone was similar to Leah's. Maybe it just wasn't your business. And though you were annoyed with Leah, you weren't annoyed with Paul. You never wanted to be on the outs with him so you just accepted his answer and got in his truck.

It was weird that you were nervous since you felt connected to him but you also felt the need to impress him.

He pulled up in front of your house and you turned to smile at him.

"Thanks for bringing me home, I really appreciate it. I'll see you around?"

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out again soon. I was thinking of a picnic?"

He was nervous, you could tell. It was the first time he hadn't looked at you all day. He was facing you, but looking everywhere but at your face.

"Just the two of us?"

"Yeah, unless-"

"Sure, just text me a date and time and I'll be ready," You cut him off.

He nodded and let a victorious smile rest on his face as he handed you his phone.

You saved your number in his phone before handing it back and getting out of the car.

"Bye Paul," You smiled and grabbed your bag, resting it on your shoulder.

"Bye Y/N."

You shut the door and walked up to your front door, unlocking it. You turned back and waved at him before slipping inside the house and letting out a sigh of happiness.

"Was that a boy?" You heard behind you, making you jump.

"Grandma!" You gasped and held your chest.

"So who was that?" She teased.

"Just a boy."

"Right," She hummed with a raised eyebrow and turned to leave you alone.

Definitely not just a boy.

A picnic on the beach was your and Paul's first date. He picked you up, picnic basket in hand, and you guys walked through the woods and to the beach. He brought a big blanket for you both to sit on as you talked and ate the sandwiches he packed.

You played in the water, laughing vibrantly as you splashed each other. You attempted to make sandcastles but failed and decided to just walk up and down the sand.

"So," He started.

"So," You mimicked and looked at him.

"When did you move away?"

"When I was eight. If you're trying to remember me, I promise we wouldn't have been friends," You chuckled and shook your head.

He titled his head to the side and stopped walking.

"And why not?" A playful smirked rested on his face, and you stopped walking simply at the sight of it.

"There's no way I could've been separated from Seth at that point. Like no way. And if it wasn't Seth, it was Leah. And I only knew Jacob because our dads hung out. But I was just a weird, clingy kid," You shrugged.

"So, it's not just because you think you're better than me?" He teased. You scoffed and put a hand on your chest.

"Please," You scoffed and shoved his shoulder gently.

You kept walking down the beach, this time walking back toward where the blanket was. And as you were walking, Paul picked up a stick and wrote "Paul + Y/N" in the sand with a heart around it, making you giggle.

If anyone else had done that on the first date, you would've run for the hills and never looked back. But it was Paul so it was okay.

And when you started spending more and more time together, like going bowling or to a museum, no one questioned it.

The date to the museum took you completely by surprise. You mentioned once or twice to your cousins how you wanted to go visit the museums in Seattle, but you never got around to going.

You two walked around, holding hands, and admiring all the art. It was intimate and quiet, and it was really about enjoying each other's company.

"You stole our cousin!" Seth burst out as you and Paul walked into Emily's house.

You waved to everyone else who sat at the kitchen table or around the kitchen.

"Did not," Paul brushed him off and set a hand on the bottom of your back.

"Good morning to you too, Seth," You smiled.

"We just came to take a nap before lunch. So, if you all don't mind," Paul said and ushered you toward the living room.

"Why don't you guys just do that at your own houses?" Jared spoke up, contorting his face in fake disgust.

You looked at Paul and he looked at you before you both turned back to face Jared.

"Nah, I don't think so," Paul shook his head.

"If it's all the same to you, we're gonna go take our nap now," You hummed and used your thumb to suggest you'd be in the living room.

You let Paul lay down first and then you climbed on top of him and rested your head in the crook of his neck.

"What do you think we're gonna have for lunch?" You asked as your eyes began to get droopy.

"Mmm, maybe burgers."

"Doubt it."

"Okay, if I'm wrong, I'll carry you for the rest of the day."

"You were probably gonna do that anyway," You chuckled and closed your eyes.

"Yeah, that's fair."

You drifted off as he drew shapes on your back. You listened to his heartbeat and the quickness of it. Usually, you'd hold your breath so yours would match up, but yours was beating just as fast as if you had been running for miles.

"I don't smell any burgers," You mumbled as you woke up. You sat up and pecked his forehead before standing up and reaching your hand out for him to take. "Did you sleep?"

"Maybe for an hour," He shrugged and took your hand, following you into the kitchen.

You sat at the table and Paul took the seat next to you. Your hands still latched together, rested on the table in between you two.

"Do you guys have to hold hands at the table?"

You gave Jared a sly smile before moving your hands onto your lap and giggling.

"Why are you being such a downer today?" You asked Jared, your voice holding a playful tone.

"Me? A downer? Please! I'm an upper!"

"Since you're such an upper, why don't you join us on our walk after lunch?" Paul challenged eyebrow raised.

"I'd rather not third-wheel. Thanks for the invite though."

"Your loss."

"Doubt it."

—

"Okay, when does a joke become a dad joke?" You asked, looking up at who you considered to be your boyfriend.

"Uh, I don't know," He shrugged but was smiling sheepishly.

"When it becomes apparent," You giggled.

After lunch, you two left Emily's and headed into the woods. You had no idea where you were going or if there was even an intended location but you were happy to just be hanging out with your favorite person.

"That was a good one," He nodded. "Okay, um... what do you call an ant that had been shunned by his community?"

"A socially dissed ant! Come on, everyone knows that one," You laughed.

"Alright, alright. What do-"

Before he could finish, his head snapped from facing you, to now looking in front of him.

"Paul?"

He ignored you and looked ahead, his eyes scanning the area. He looked back at you, his face serious and his tone reflected that.

"Y/N, run back to Emily's and don't stop. When you get there, just wait for me to come back," He said and kissed you on the cheek before backing away from you.

"Paul, what's going on? What's wrong?" You asked, your face displaying your confusion.

"Just go," He demanded and though it wasn't harsh, you knew he meant business.

He started running ahead and just as you were about to turn around and run back to Emily's it was as if some huge wolf came and ate the boy that was right in front of you.

It was huge, five times larger than Paul, with dark silver fur. And when it turned to glance at you, you recognized its dark eyes and they were pleading for you to listen.

You quickly turned around and ran back to Emily's. It was already hard enough jumping over logs and pushing branches out the way, but with the rumbling of the ground, you were struggling. You saw seven more gigantic wolves going the same way as the dark silver wolf, which you assumed was why the ground was so shaky.

But were they going after him? If your eyes weren't deceiving you, that wolf was Paul. But for as long as you've known him, which was maybe about a month and some change, he's either with his friends or with you, no time for him to get into any trouble.

You burst through Emily's front door, clearly scaring her since she practically jumped out of her skin.

"Hey, are you alright?" She asked, placing her hands on your shoulders as you panted.

What would you say? You just saw your boyfriend turn into a huge wolf and saw seven other wolves running in the woods? The thought of even saying it aloud was ridiculous. And even though Emily was very understanding, you knew this was too crazy to tell.

"No, yeah I'm okay," You nodded and plopped into a chair by the table, your hands behind your head as you tried to regulate your breathing.

But as much as you tried to calm down, you couldn't stop your leg from bouncing and you couldn't keep yourself from biting your nails. You were so worried you didn't realize that it was only you and Emily in the usually full house.

Emily tried talking to you, but you were so lost in thought that you would only him in response. You were never quite sure what she was talking about but you thought humming was a sufficient answer along with nodding or shaking your head.

You couldn't even look at her. If your eyes were on the door, waiting for any sign of Paul, they were watching the clock and watching as the time slowly went by.

When you finally spot him, he's shirtless and wearing khaki shorts (the ones he was wearing earlier was a mud brown). You jump from your seat and through the screen door, into his arms. And without missing a beat, he caught you and held you close.

"Yeah, let's just forget we exist," You heard Seth in the back but you couldn't tear your attention from your counterpart.

"You okay?" You whispered.

"Yeah, are you?"

You nodded in response and let the silence and your nerves settle. You knew he was safe since he was in your arms and you could hear his heart beating against his chest.

"What was that?" You breathed out and peeked up at him.

He looks over at Sam as if they were speaking to each other with just their eyes, before looking back at you.

"Let me drive you home," He suggested and you nodded immediately. Being with him wasn't something you had to think about.

You pull away from him and turn to Leah and Seth.

"We're still on for breakfast tomorrow?" You asked and wrapped around Paul's waist, snuggling into his side.

Leah glanced at Paul and then back at you before nodding.

"Yeah, we'll come get you."

Paul ushered you to his truck, helping you get in before getting in himself. The ride home was quiet and you watched the trees, hoping to see the silver wolf staring back at you. Hoping that you weren't crazy and that the impossible remained impossible.

"I know you have a lot of questions," Paul started as he parked the car in front of your house.

"More than a lot."

He sat silently, mulling over what he was going to say, before going into great detail about everything. From the legends you grew up listening to, to shifting, and finally to imprinting.

"And you expect me to just take this in with ease?" You questioned.

"Not at all."

"The only reason why I'm not laughing and calling you a liar is only because I saw you turn into a huge wolf right in front of me. The imprinting part I can believe with ease; that makes the most sense."

"We're soulmates," He nodded, smiling bashfully.

"More like twin flames but yeah sure," You nodded. "And you saw a... vampire today? That's what you were chasing?"

"Yeah, we don't know why they're here. They're not with the Cullens. But you don't have anything to worry about, we chased them to Canada." His eyes met yours, noticing the concern in your eyes, and reached a hand over to rest on yours. "Everything is fine. Everyone's safe."

You nodded reluctantly and sighed, pulling his hand to your mouth to kiss.

"Stay safe, please," You mumbled and held his hand to your cheek.

"Always."

"I'll text you when I get back from breakfast, you can come over."

He nodded happily, a big grin danced in his face as he leaned over to peck your lips.

"See you tomorrow."

"Bye dork," You giggled as you got out the truck and walked inside.

Tomorrow came quickly and you and Seth were now seated across from Leah at a diner.

"So, what did the big, bad wolf tell you?" Leah asked while wiping the syrup off her mouth with a napkin.

"Everything," You shrugged, as you stuffed your mouth with eggs.

You slept on what Paul said, occasionally pinching yourself to make sure you weren't dreaming. There wasn't anything you could do about it, so why stress about it?

"And how do you feel?" She continued, eyeing you as if trying to read you and see through your calm demeanor.

"Fine. Normal. You don't have to hide anything from me anymore so that's good," You hummed and sipped at your water.

"I'll be back," Seth mumbled.

He stood up and walked over to the bathroom, leaving you and Leah alone.

"So, I know I've been keeping things from you, which isn't like me at all but it's just because of this whole pack thing. Only select people are supposed to know about it," Leah explained.

"Yeah, I know. Paul told me."

"Why are you acting like this isn't a big deal? Why aren't you angry or upset or sad?"

"Because I understand why you couldn't tell me. It's not your fault, Leah. What's there to be upset about?" You uttered, trying to get her to understand what you were thinking. "You're still my cousin and I still love you. That's it."

"That's it," She nodded and gave a smile that didn't show any teeth. As if she were still holding back. But it wasn't your place to force it out of her. She'd talk when she was ready.

When you got back home, your grandparents were at the store but you knew they wouldn't mind Paul being over. So, as you promised, you called him and invited him over.

You were upstairs in your room, straightening up when you heard banging on the side of the house and then saw Paul standing next to the window.

"So you... climbed up the side of the house... instead of ringing the doorbell?" You questioned, arms crossed over your chest.

"Less work for you," He shrugged and pulled you into his arms, pecking your forehead.

"So thoughtful," You giggled and pulled away so you could lay on your bed. "How was breakfast?"

"Good. I brought you some pancakes, they're downstairs."

He laid next to you on the bed and poked your cheek, making you roll your eyes in faux annoyance.

"You're going to school on the Res?" He asked.

"No, Forks High," You shook your head. "I figured, I didn't need to be around Seth all the time. Give each other some space."

"How perceptive."

"And then I'm going away once I graduate, you knew that though."

"What about me?"

"Do you want to come? Meet my parents and eat escargot?" You smiled.

His face was suddenly hard, on the brink of sadness and frustration. Your smile immediately dropped once you noticed his expression and you were ready to comfort him, your palm softly rested on his cheek.

"I can't leave the pack right now. Things need to die down before I can just up and leave," He rolled his eyes hostilely and moved your hand from his face.

You frowned and your eyebrows furrowed to match your anguish.

"Okay, well, we'll make it work," You tried to open the conversation to compromise.

"You're not even sure where you're going to college."

"P, it's not the end of the world. We'll figure it out."

It seemed the more you talked, the more upset he got but being silent and sweeping things under the rug never made anything better.

"You say that now but once we're thousands of miles apart, you're going to see it's not as easy as you're making it seem. We're not a regular couple. Long-distance is already hard but with an imprint, it's much worse. The emptiness and misery will become overwhelming-"

"Well, what do you want me to do Paul? Put my life on hold? We will figure it out. We have a whole year before I go-"

"I need to go."

He abruptly got up from the bed with a red face, slightly shaking but not too much.

"Where are you going?" You sat up, practically talking to his back since he was facing the window.

"For a run. I'll be back later, maybe."

He left your house the same way he came, not bothering to look back at you. It felt as if he were talking to an enemy if you hadn't known any better. But you knew he was just disappointed and frustrated that he couldn't pause time and replay this past summer. And you understood why he felt this way. Somethings are just so good, you never want them to change. But life isn't easy and we can't always have things go our way.

You had never been around a Paul that wasn't either in a positive headspace or worried. Worried Paul didn't shut down the way he just did. He was gentle and soft-spoken.

You sighed and fell back onto the bed, rubbing your temples.

Did that count as an argument? Because if so, that would be your first. It was usually smooth sailings but you had only known each other for a month, so of course, you tried not to step on each other's toes.

You jumped up at the sound of feet landing on the floor in front of you, thinking Paul came back. But you were met with a woman with olive skin, red eyes, and short, curly, black hair. She stood about 5'3" and had an aggressive nature about her that pulled you to your feet, triggering your fight or flight response. Her face was squared, with a flat nose, her cardinal eyes hooded.

"You were with the wolf the other day. You're his... mate," She broke the silence, speaking the last word with either mix of interest or disgust (you couldn't tell which). Her voice drew you in; it was smooth and tantalizing.

You stayed silent and didn't think to move a muscle. To move meant, you wanted to be chased in her eyes and you knew you couldn't outrun her.

She slowly took steps closer to you and continued, "You're pretty for a human."

You confirmed that her voice was full of disgust. The way she said "human" and how her top lip curled as she did so, was not a reflection of interest.

As she moved closer, you knew time was running out and maybe that's what made you speak up. You'll never know the real reason, it was a shock to both of you.

"Paul will be here any second. But if you do happen to succeed in whatever you're planning, you need to know: he's not going to stop hunting you until he has your head."

Your voice was oddly steady and full of confidence you didn't know you had. Maybe because deep down you knew it was true and you weren't just trying to keep the clock running.

She chuckled as if entertained by your words, as if she was able to look through your charade. But now she was standing a few inches away and if anything gave it away, it was your heart beating rapidly.

You heard a bowl from outside, making your eyes flicker over to the window, then back to the trespasser in your room.

You almost let out a breath of relief, but that might've meant you weren't scared anymore, and then she might not show any mercy. You didn't want to antagonize her.

"I wonder if... he'll still love you if you're one of us. Red eyes, skin as hard as a rock, and as cold as ice-"

"I promise you, he will."

"'m not too sure. I'd like to test it out though."

In the blink of an eye, she was gone and you were on the floor, letting out a blood-curdling scream. Your whole body felt like you were on fire, you laid on the hardwood of your floor, flailing around and screaming while you held on to the center of all your pain.

And while screaming out and crying for help, the tears puddling on your floor weren't from the pain, but from the memories as your life flashed before your eyes.

"Mom, he's so pretty," You mumbled in awe as you peered over into your Aunt Sue's arms and watched your little cousin look back at you. "Isn't he," She smiled at you and you nodded energetically. "But we have to head home, to give Aunt Sue and Uncle Harry some space with him." You nodded sadly but obediently and moved from your aunt's side to your mom's. You reached up and grabbed her hand, gripping it tight and leaning on her leg. You waved as you followed your mom out of the room, your eyes filling with tears. She must've heard your sniffling as you neared the elevators because she paused and looked down at you. "Hey, what's wrong Little One?" She asked as she crouched to your height. She held both of your hands and tried to look you in your eyes, but you kept your head down, trying not to let her see your tears. "He's jus' so p-perfect and I don' wanna leave h-him," You spoke between hiccups. She gave you a fond smile and let go of your hands to wipe the tears from your chubby cheeks. "We can go back for a couple of minutes but then we have to go meet your dad and Leah. They're waiting for us in the gift shop, remember?" "Okay," You nodded. "I promise I won't cry when we leave this time." "Oh baby, it's okay to cry. Sometimes we love things so much that we cry. You two might be soulmates; meant to meet and be there for each other. An irreplaceable bond. That's how I feel about you." "You love me so much you could cry?" You gasped, eyes widening at the fact that an adult you admired so much cried just like you. "Yep! I love you more than I could tell you." You hugged her as tight as you could in your little arms, so full of immeasurable happiness "Love you too, Mommy."

You couldn't imagine leaving them behind. Your parents always showed you so much love and support, you were beyond lucky to have them. But your mom was a goddess in your eyes, even if you have grown apart. Your feelings will never change. But what would they tell her once you're no longer you?

And Seth. No matter what Sam decided, he'd find a way to see you and spend time with you. You knew he'd never let you spend eternity without him. But Leah was tricky, as she always had been.

"Y/N, what are you crying about now?" She huffed as she sat down next to you on the porch. You both had come home from school, Leah was in fifth grade and you were in first. "Nothing, Leah," You mumbled and turned your body completely away from hers. "It's not 'nothing' if you're crying? What's the matter?" Her tone was more gentle this time and she put a hand on your left shoulder. You leaned into her hand subconsciously and wiped a tear that fell from your eye. "Is it those kids in your class?" She asked. You hesitantly nodded. You didn't want to hear the whole "stand up for yourself" speech again but you also didn't want to keep this to yourself anymore. "Just been picking on me because of my shoes," You muttered and looked down at your feet. These were your favorite shoes, but now they were dirty and worn out. You still wore them though since the value was still there in your eyes. You loved those pink light up shoes and couldn't bear to part from them. "I like your shoes," Leah shrugged. "Thanks." You didn't know if she actually liked them or if she was just saying that to appease you. You guys' parents always were telling her how her influence and approval meant a lot to you, even if you never showed it. She was your big cousin and you adored everything about her. And because your big cousin said she liked your shoes, you wore them again the next day. Sure, you were subjecting yourself to another day of teasing, but if Leah liked them, screw what the other kids thought. You stomped your feet and watched the colors on your shoes shine as you stood in the lunch line. "Really? The beaten-up shoes again?" You heard behind you. You say was officially ruined. Bigmouth Iara Lyons had to come in and ruin your whole mood. Her and her little snotty-nosed posse. You kept your head straight and ignored her as your mom suggested. Your dad wanted you to hit her, even if it meant him having to come and pick you up from school, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. But Leah was Leah and wasn't afraid to step up to anyone. "I know you can hear me, Clearwater!" Iara kept going and you could feel her amber eyes burning a hole through the back of your head. "Clearly, she's ignoring you." That was Leah's voice. A voice that made you gasp and turn around. This was a confrontation you needed to see. "And you are?" Iara raised one of her fine eyebrows, a hand on her hip. "Leah Clearwater. Stop messing with my cousin." You now stood behind Leah, somewhat cowering behind her, but still able to be seen. "Or else what?" Leah pushed the girl down without hesitation, making you cover your mouth with your hand. You didn't know if you wanted to gasp or laugh, so you settled for gasping now and laughing later when you were home, replaying this scene right before bed. The other two girls with Iara looked at Leah with wide eyes and then down at their friend who was looking for them to defend her. "Or else, I'm gonna do more than push you. You're a first-grader with a mustache, worry about that instead of her shoes," Leah snarled. The whole lunchroom was looking at Iara and Leah now, wondering what their next moves would be, but you knew it was Clearwater: one point and Lyons: zero. You win. You watched the tears well up in Iara's eyes as she scrambled to her feet. She stood in front of you for a moment, not knowing whether she wanted to run or stay but chose the former. She ran out of the lunchroom, her friends reluctant to follow after her, leaving you and Leah. You saw Leah let out a sigh before turning to face you. "Now, if you make me do that again, I'm going to push you too. Got it?" "Got it," You nodded, a proud grin on your face.

That day made you proud to call Leah your cousin. But now you were at a crossroads. Would you still be allowed to hang out with her? Would she still want to be around you? Or was this the line that you never knew was drawn?

The night of your bowling date with Paul, you two were laying in your bed, holding hands. Your eyes were closed as you started drifting off, and he must've thought you were sleeping, but you perked up at the feeling of Paul kissing the top of your head. "You are the most important person in my life. I'm so happy you're here with me," He whispered into your hair. "Forever." You smiled softly and pulled him closer to you, literally wanting to be attached at the hip. It was as if you were dreaming. This affection was something some people could only dream about. But here it was in the palm of your hands. Your body was flooded with a certain happiness you had never known. A happiness that can only be obtained by being in the presence of Paul Lahote.

But would you ever feel this happiness again? Did the trespasser rob you of a happiness that only a few were lucky to experience? As your body felt like it was being torn apart, limb by limb, and tossed into a fire, every memory you relived tore your heart the same way before everything went black.

—

You ignored the migraine and the aching feeling of your body and pulled yourself into a sitting position.

The spot next to you was empty. If Paul was next to you, you would've assumed it all to be a nightmare. But you woke up alone, dazed, and confused. So where was he?

You took in your surroundings and recognized you were in your room. Nothing looked touched, but the floors were clean and your window was shut and locked.

You stood up and your vision immediately got fuzzy, but you grabbed onto your headboard to keep from falling over.

You took baby steps toward the stairs, keeping a hand on the wall so you had something to leave on. You gripped the railing tightly as you walked down the steps. You tried to be quiet, as to not disturb your grandparents but you weren't quiet enough to go under the radar of a shifter.

At the bottom of the stairs stood Seth, a comforting smile graced his face. "Where's Paul?" You asked, pausing in the middle of the stairs.

"That's the first thing you ask? Of all the questions you might have, that's the one you ask?" He chuckled and held a hand out for you, gesturing for you to keep walking.

But you didn't laugh, giggle, chuckle. You kept walking down the steps and once you reached your cousin, you placed a hand in his.

"Where's Paul?"

You turned to look into the living room where you saw the rest of the pack and your grandparents sitting, waiting for you to make your grand entrance. Seth was at the stairs, Leah was right behind him and the others sat on the couch and in chairs, eyeing you carefully but still smiling.

"He just went to use the bathroom, Sleeping Beauty," Leah answered, attempting the smoothen the tension.

Paul walked in, your eyes watching him carefully and his doing the same to you.

"Are you okay?" You asked him.

He didn't look hurt, just a little out of place, mentally. It was weird because he seemed completely fine and he would seem like that to a normal person but to you, he wasn't himself. He was standoffish, normally he would've been the first to greet you. He would've been in your room, if not in your bed, at your desk, and if not there in Seth's spot. Normal Paul, wouldn't have missed you waking up. It made you feel like something was wrong.

"Am I okay? Are you okay?" He asked, almost appalled that you asked about him.

"Am I... myself?"

"You're yourself," He nodded and glanced at your body once more, but this time he stopped at your left wrist.

You looked down at your wrist to see what he saw. And that's when you saw it. It was huge teeth marks from when the nomad bit you, still red and fresh. It wasn't actively bleeding but it couldn't have been more than two days since the incident.

"Don't we have patrol to go to or something?" Paul coughed, making you take your attention off your wrist.

You looked up him and then over at Sam who nodded. You frowned and went to inch closer to Paul, but instead decided to move backward and stand between Seth and Leah.

Paul was the first to leave and the rest of the pack stood and walked toward the door, but wishing you well as they left. Sam handed you a bouquet and told you that Emily would be over later.

You nodded and walked over to the couch, placing the flowers on your lap.

"Do you want to be alone?" Your grandpa asked, trying to see where your head was at.

"Just Seth and Leah, please," You nodded.

Your grandparents left the room and your cousins came and sat on either side of you.

"How did... how am I still normal?" You asked. You heard Seth gulp loudly, making you look over at Leah. She sighed and mumbled something about always being the bearer.

"Paul... heard you scream and came right to you. We were waiting for her to come out but he couldn't ignore your screams. He brought you over... to the Cullens," She paused and shuddered before continuing. "Carlisle sucked the venom out."

"Oh," You nodded slowly, taking everything in.

The incident wasn't anything you'd ever forget but it was coming back to you in flashes. And you remembered how you told the woman that nothing would change you and Paul's relationship.

"What's that frown for? We took care of her, Y/N," Seth asked, nudging your side.

"I was just... so confident that no matter what happened, Paul's feelings wouldn't change for me and here we are."

You smiled sadly, tucking your lips in your teeth. After shrugging, you leaned your head on Seth's shoulder and closed your eyes.

"Maybe I should've just went to France," You mumbled.

The exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks and before you knew it, you were back to sleep.

You kind of figured you'd be back in your room when you woke up. You expected the three of you to be squished in the bed, napping as if you were, five, eight, and eleven again. But you woke up and it was Paul laying beside you, staring down at you like he was waiting for you to wake up.

"Hey," You greeted him.

"Hey."

"You okay?"

"Are you?

"Yeah."

"Then, yeah I'm okay," He responded and paused for a moment, glancing into your eyes, reading you. "There's no way I can explain how sorry I am that this happened to you-"

"It's not your fault, Paul."

"They went after you because you were with me. I couldn't even keep you safe. I'm sorry and I will forever be apologetic," He stopped again, closing his eyes and collecting his thoughts. "You might not remember but you weren't just screaming, Y/N. You were screaming my name. Not just crying out random wails, but crying out for me. I should've been there, I should've never left. Now the sight of you withering in pain and calling for me will forever be engrained in my mind. The pain you were in... it was because I left."

What he said didn't change how you felt about anything, but it made you think about how you had so much faith in him. It was news to you that you were screaming for him, specifically, but you also weren't surprised. You believed he would come and save you and he did. Because he was your Paul and he would always be there.

"No one could've known she'd have a vendetta against you and come after me, Paul. This is no one's fault, I need you to come to terms with and believe that. I feel safest in your arms, don't ever forget that, please."

Maybe it was the imprint, but he let it go, tentatively of course. But what mattered was that he let it go for right now and kissed your forehead.

You let an arm drape around his waist and he had a hand drawing shapes on your back. You sat for a while, enjoying each other's presence, after being separated for two days. And though you didn't want to pick a fight, you just had to know.

"If-if I were changed though, would you still-"

"No doubt about. You're still my Y/N, no matter what."

[AN: okay so I wanted to address two things. one, I don’t want y’all to think the soulmate thing is weird so I’ll explain. soulmates are anyone, whether romantic, familial, or platonic, that you feel an instant connection to. basically someone that was meant to be in your life, whether they stay or leave. so that’s how I saw seth and the reader. ALSO, I didn’t really go into depth about the relationship between the reader and the rest of the pack but I just didn’t feel like that was super important for me to focus on. but yeah everyone is on good terms, I just didn’t go super into depth about that. lastly, I’ll probably go through and edit this once more, I just wanted to post it finally. anyway, hope you all enjoyed !]

#stylesluxx #paul lahote #twilight #paul lahote x reader #twilight x reader #twilight imagine #wolf pack imagine #Paul Lahote angst #Paul Lahote blurb #paul lahote fluff #paul lahote imagine

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stxrrywildflower · 4 years

Text

intern

pairing - bau team x teen!reader

summary - you intern for garcia at the bau

warnings - mentions of case

word count - ?

note - takes place during season 7 around 2011

you knew penelope from the minute you were born.

both of your parents were extremely close, living just a few short blocks away in san francisco. penelope was only 17 when you were born, you instantly becoming her new favorite person. her mom was even named as your godmother.

when penelope’s parents had died, yours had looked after her even though she did go underground as a hacker. despite how much penelope had changed, she was always there to check up on you and your parents.

and then she had gotten caught by the fbi of all people.

you were far to young to even comprehend what was happening. all you could remember was penelope hugging you tightly before she left. the two of you kept in contact by letters ever since that day.

now 17, you were an expert with computers. penelope was your guide, helping you learn to hack everything and anything as well as your way with all technology.

adding on to that, you were incredibly smart, taking all advanced placement courses at school. one of your classes was an internship, you had to find a local company to spend a certain number of hours a week in order to earn credit.

when penelope hears the news, mostly since she had access to your course schedule, she pulled a couple strings.

before you knew it, you were booked to have an internship with the behavioral analysis unit in washington d.c. under penelope garcia. aaron hotchner would be your ‘boss’ as he was the unit chief.

your parents were incredibly supportive, working out the details for you to stay with penelope for the semester and possibly part of the summer.

with multiple bags packed and a plane ticket booked, you were set to leave for washington d.c. in just a few short days.

____

arriving at quantico, you were more than nervous.

a car was arranged to pick you up from the airport, an agent named anderson picked you up to bring you to the bau. from there, you would be able to see penelope, meet with hotch, and get your proper paperwork and badge.

you could tell from the second you stepped in that your presence was out of place. a teenager was rarely in the bau, nonetheless one few people could connect to someone on the team.

“alright this is the floor you will be working on. garcia’s office is down the hall but through those doors over there is what we call the bullpen. that’s where the main teams desks are as well as where they do briefings,” anderson spoke, giving you a mini-tour.

“and the staring?” you asked. “that will stop soon. once they see you with agent hotchner they’ll back off. as much as i want to defend your case, i can’t say i wouldn’t act the same. this is the first teenager working at the fbi ever,” anderson informed you. “oh wow, didn’t know i was making history.”

“yeah you are, and I'm sure-” he was cut off.

“penny!” you exclaimed, rushing forward to hug the tech analyst, your luggage remaining behind you.

anderson smiled to himself, waving towards garcia before heading back to work.

“i’ve missed you so much sweetie,” penelope grinned, matching your enthusiasm. you hugged her for a little longer, overjoyed to see her after months.

morgan was next in the hallway, hugging you once penelope let go. “hey kid, how are you? school okay?” he questioned, ruffling your hair. “everything’s good derek, i’m just stoked to be here,” you grinned.

the rest of the team, to say the least, was extremely confused. there were a ton of questions running through their heads as the scene played out.

“maybe it’s morgan and garcia’s secret love child,” emily snickered, spencer and j.j. laughing too.

“i can take your bags down to my lair and we can bring them to my place after work,” penelope offered. “and i can take you in to meet hotch,” morgan piped in.

you kept your backpack with you, the three of you splitting up. morgan stayed by your side, guiding you into the bullpen.

the two of you couldn’t have been in the main roof for more than a few minutes before who you assumed was hotch was down to greet you.

“welcome y/n y/l/n, it’s nice to finally meet you,” hotch greeted, extending his hand for you to shake. you took it, nodding with a “nice to meet you too sir.”

“please, call me hotch. we can talk up in my office,” with one final smile towards morgan, you were following the into chief up for your meeting.

“so how do you know garcia?” hotch first asked.

“she’s pretty much my godmother, her mom was my official one before she passed. our parents were friends so i’ve known her for most of my life,” you explained, a smile on your face. “she taught me to hack when i was only 10.”

hotch nodded, “and you’re seventeen, correct? have you committed to any colleges?”

you shook your head no. “not yet sir. i’ve been accepted to a few but haven’t made any final decision. pennelope is pushing me to go to school around here though.”

“i’m sure wherever you go will be a good fit. but now, we have to get into some of the more official stuff. how are you managing school with this inteenship?”

“my teachers moved all of my classes online with virtual lessons and work. penelope and i have already worked out a schedule so i can focus on my work here and do schoolwork at night,” you explained.

hotch was obviously satisfied with his answer so he continued, “now with your internship, we don’t expect you to work cases with us right away. it is mostly just learning under garcia. once you feel comfortable enough and get a recommendation, you can move up.”

you nodded along, taking in the information about your job. “i can take you down to get your badge and then you can meet the team,” hotch offered. “sounds perfect.”

photos and paperwork didn’t take more than twenty minutes. you were back up, a crisp new badge clipped on your jacket, soon enough.

“my team,” hotch called. “conference room.”

with his usual ‘unit chief’ tone, no one bother to argue with him. adding on to your interaction with three out of seven members, changes were obviously happening.

you were seated on top of one of the file cabinets, morgan beside you and penelope next to him. your conversation died down once more people entered the room.

both you and morgan quickly got down, wanting to look at least a little bit professional.

“everyone, i would like you to meet our newest team member, y/n y/l/n. she’ll be interning under penelope and helping out on cases,” hotch inteoduced.

you waved to everyone, a slight smile forming on your face. “from left to right is reid, prentiss, rossi, and j.j. and your already know garcia and morgan,” hotch pointed out each individual member.

“wait i’m not following. you know morgan and garcia?” rossi asked.

“my parents knew penelope’s for a long time. i grew up with penelope pretty much as an older sister. and i know morgan since he’s visited home a few times,” you explained.

the team was already eager to get to know you, having a fresh face around, nonetheless one that was only 17, would definitely be nice. so, for your first day, you were pestered with questions. you already fit well with the team, a new member being added to their little family without problem.

____

your first week was pretty much just learning the basics of how the computers in garcia’s lair actually operated. you had your own little station in one of the corners, a few computers and monitors set up for you to work with.

two weeks in, you had your first real assignment.

it wasn’t by choice, you were supposed to start working with the gory stuff in two weeks, or a month of working there.

you absolutely loved the job with the team. oftentimes, you found yourself hanging out with either emily or j.j. for dinner and time with sergio and or henry. you went on morning runs with morgan, the two of you constantly sending each other new routes to run on. spencer helped you with your homework, planning a schedule for the idea work time like it was no issue. if you ever had a problem with school, he would always help you figure it out.

rossi found a new sense of joy in teaching you to cook. you grew up in san francisco, eating a lot of sea food and not much else. rossi changed that, making you various pasta dishes to try as well as the recipient. and hotch, hotch became an overall mentor and pretty much another dad to you. while spencer helped you with work, hotch would keep you in line with everything.

the latest case was pretty intensive on you and penelope. you did as much work as you could, you still weren’t officially clear to handle crime scene information just yet.

the one time penelope was out of her office getting coffee for the two of you, her office phone had started ringing. you quickly pushed away from your desk, your chair rolling across the floor until you were in front of hers.

“office of the most talented and magical members of the bau here. how may i help you?” you greeted. “man garcia is really rubbing off on you,” you chose to ignore that comment.

“speaking of garcia, where is she?”

you sighed, “getting coffee. what do you need?” hotch was quick to answer, “i need you too look up an unsub. name is roger clark.”

in lightning speed, you clicked away at the computer as you dug up information on the man.

“ah here his is. clark rogers was born to a frank and mary rogers. was a normal child, played sports and graduated with honors. did have a case of aggravated assault in college though he got off free since his dad was a lawyer. oh shoot, his mom died a few weeks ago,” you quickly explained.

something about a possible trigger as barely audible in the background of the call. “we need a location asap,” emily spoke.

“oh i’ve has the location sent from the minute you called,” you leaned back in your chair, most of your work already done.

hotch actually had one of his rare smiles on his face after that. “thanks so much,” he spoke. “stay safe,” you called before hanging up the call.

little did you know, your work was more than helpful. though it was minimal, small details you had provided actually proved to be useful in taking down the unsub. even penelope, who heard news of everything once she returned, was thoroughly impressed. it wasn’t super easy finding out that information as fast as you could.

all you knew is that you were guaranteed a job once you graduated.

☆ ☆ ☆

tags - @tinylumpiaa @sapphicspence @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @change-the-world-someday @ah-blossom @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @kissessforharryyy @garcias-batcave @spenceneedsahug @jjandreidsgirl @zoseph @spencerreidxoxo @marvelxmendes @kissessfordraco @ogmilkis @cm-is-kinda-cool @ssa-morgan @matthewgublerswife @spencerslatte @babyangellee @agentshortstacc

#criminal #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #david rossi #penelope garcia #luke alvez #matt simmons #tara lewis #bau team #bau team x teen reader

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joonapeach · 3 years

Text

skylines (nj)

college!au, where namjoon openly chases you and you love running from those advances. that is, until everyone in your architecture department finds out you’re the daughter of the man behind the biggest architecture firm in the country.

alternatively... namjoon is a simp for you until he’s suddenly not

author’s note: sometimes i just wanna write for the fun of it and not take life so seriously so this is what i churned out. 8.8k words of some minor pining and mini character development for our oc because tbh, being a student sucks and you get so caught up in your insecurity sometimes

also reposted on ao3

[this is fluff and light-hearted, with a bit of a rivalry trope, 8.8k words]

You love skylines.

From when you were six years old with short legs, you remember craning your neck up high to see each building that surrounded you. At that age, the world seemed big and you seemed small but you loved it. You loved seeing the world build and function around you.

From then on outwards began your decades-long relationship with your first love - buildings.

Well, you called it buildings and your father called it architecture. You were the daughter of his dreams, his proclaimed legacy. What luck I have, he would say, that I have a daughter who will grow up to work beside me.

Growing up, those comments were your food for the day. You would eat up his encouragements and cheers throughout high school, serving him back your high grades on a gold platter.

This is the way you’ve worked through your past nineteen years. It’s a little basic, maybe, but you’ve operated on your father’s ambition for you.

But like all good things, even that seemed to come to an end. Since entering university and embarking on your path as an architecture major, the once comforting encouragement has slowly changed to a choking chain around you.

You’ve learnt a lot in two semesters at university. You’ve learnt how to finish assignments the night before, how to memorize historical names and dates minutes before an exam, you’ve learnt how fun it can be to be with your friends.

But most of all, you’ve learnt that… you’re not special.

You’re surrounded by overachievers, all like you, all perhaps better than you in some way. You’re the daughter of the man behind HN Architects, but some of your classmates look like they’re on their way to the top of the chain.

You always thought you deserved your seat, your privilege, because you’d worked for it. These days, it doesn’t seem much like that. And you worry that your father is thinking the very same thing.

Let’s finish this assignment, you sigh, there’s not much left. Let’s do it, you give yourself a pep talk, fighting back a yawn at the practically empty library before dawn.

Books crash down on your table, right beside you. You shake, being pulled so abruptly out of your reverie. Although maybe you should be thankful, for the sleep that was threatening your productivity seems to have run away from the sound.

“Excuse me,” you scoff loudly, making your presence known to the disturbance.

From above the tower of books on the desk, peeks out a familiar dimpled smile. His eyes glint with mischief and despite the early hours of the day, his face reads no exhaustion.

“You’re excused.”

You groan. “There’s an entire empty library, you can only sit here?”

“Studying is more fun with company,” he retorts with a grin.

“It’s studying. It’s not meant to be fun,” you reply, hostile. “Didn’t I tell you to stop showing up in front of me with no purpose?’

He smiles again, confidently with his eyes unmoving from you. It’s almost unnerving, how much you see Namjoon smile in front of you. Architecture students are not meant to be this happy. They aren’t meant to carry a warm smile everywhere they go, looking at people with such attentive intensity.

“I haven’t shown up without a purpose though,” he says. “I came to ask for help with the assignment.”

This time, you smile. But your smile is one of disbelief and amusement.

“Yes, that’s very believable, Namjoon,” you cock a brow. “You’re the one finishing assignments a week early and screwing up the curve for everyone but I’m sure I could help you with whatever you need.”

He grins, taking a seat next to you. “Hey, sometimes even I need help,” he replies but then pauses. “Ah, you’re right. I should’ve gone with coming to offer you help. That’s a lot more believable.”

“I don’t need your help,” you argue. “Stop showing up in front of me. And stop subtly flexing in front of me. It’s nauseating.”

He throws his head back and laughs. He looks so happy that it almost stirs a scary, fluttering feeling in your stomach. “You should be the last person to feel jealous of me, _____.”

You glare at him. “Yeah, because I’m the one who threatens your ranking?”

He shakes his head. “No, because I would help you with everything if you just asked.”

You still, for a moment. His words lull over in your head and they feel a bit weird. Your major is competitive and cut-throat, even if it doesn’t appear it. To you, Namjoon is your biggest rival, your biggest worry because you can never match up to him.

“Well, I’m not asking you for a thing. Is there really nothing you stress over?”

“No, there is. I just don’t cry over my textbook the nights before exams.”

“That was one time,” you mumble, infuriated. “And I had every right to be crying that night. It was the hardest exam that term and I have big shoes to fill. I can’t afford to be bothering people, like you,” you say with an intentional offense.

He takes none. “Big shoes? Who’s putting expectations on you?”

“Just some family. Stop being nosy,” you say swiftly. “And you didn’t even tell me. What do you stress over?”

He pauses, not giving a response for a moment. You wonder if it’s because there’s really nothing he stresses over. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. While you and your friends have all cracked under the pressure of your degree, you especially with the added burden of your father… Namjoon has not once shown signs of struggle. He walks through life with that smile every day.

“Finding work,” he says after a while.

“Huh?”

He meets your eyes. “You asked me what I worry about. I worry about finding work when I graduate,” he says sincerely.

You bite back a rude laugh. “Please, Namjoon. Get real,” you roll your eyes. “You really think you can worry about that? You were the top of our class all last year.”

You don’t do a good job of hiding your envy, but it’s beyond you to care at this point. You’ve become this person now. The one who seeks everything out of their number on the paper.

“But I don’t have any connections. I come from a village, practically, as you like to call it,” he says with a chuckle. It stings you a little, he’s referring to the time you and your friends had put him down out of jealousy with those words. But he doesn’t say it like it bothers him. He says it like it’s true.

“So?” you say, looking away from him and back on your sheet. “You don’t always need connections.”

“Not always, but a lot of the time,” he shrugs.

“Any company who takes a look at your record and speaks to you for five minutes would want you, Namjoon,” you exhale, knowing your words are 100% true. You think about your father, about HN Architects. Namjoon’s the kind of guy who your father wouldn’t think twice about hiring. He’s the epitome of someone who could fill any shoes you gave him.

You scoff bitterly. “Wait a second. Why am I comforting you right now? You’re a success story in the making,” you snap and he laughs, even though you didn’t intend it to be a joke. “You should be comforting me, you idiot. I don’t even know if I’ll have Mr. Labadee’s assignment done in time for submission!”

He puts his hands up. “Okay, okay, don’t worry. Why do you think I’m here?” he looks away, still smiling as he takes the pencil from your hand and moves closer to the sheet.

“What?” you say, watching the way his eyebrows furrow and his eyes scan the paper. He’s losing himself in the sheet now, and it feels like watching a prodigy at work. You picture this is what it would feel like to watch Bill Gates code on a computer before he formally started his career or watching The Beatles pen a song before they made it big.

“Hm?”

“Did you come here for me?” you ask and for a split second, you see his eyes shift. “Did Chae tell you I was here?”

He doesn’t respond, instead focusing on the assignment. “Your calculation is wrong here. Look,” he says, pointing at a section. As he explains your mistake, you smile satisfied.

He doesn’t need to admit it. You two have gone through this very situation so many times now, that you both know it’s true. Namjoon always comes for you.

You have kept your background, your family, extremely private since joining university.

In high school, you made the mistake of letting people know that you were the daughter of HN Architects. It resulted in years of people smooching up to you, gossiping behind your back, mean assumptions, and just a general nightmare.

That nightmare would only multiply if your friends here found out about it. They were all architect majors, all in the same cut-throat degree, and you came from privilege.

It scared you, knowing what could happen if they ever found out. You begged your family to make sure that nothing would tie you to them here, keeping your name different on the registrar, not publishing photos of you in the paper. You couldn’t risk all the friends and relationships you made. Even if they said things won’t change, you know they would. They always do.

“I need to sleep for 10 years,” you mumble, falling on your bed.

“Fuck this, I wish I was you right now,” Chae cries from her side of the room. “I’ve got one more submission.”

“I woke up at 4 to finish it so you should be fine,” you laugh, looking at her. “And did you send Namjoon to me?”

Chae fights a smile on her face. You sigh, knowing you’ve opened Pandora's box.

“He came to me asking about you last night. I told him you were sleeping, but you’d be at the library at 5 working on the assignment,” she smirks cheekily. “Why, did he come?” she asks, not hiding the overly inquisitive edge to her question.

You say nothing, deciding to turn on your laptop.

“He did!” she screams and your eyes widen, telling her to be quiet. “Sorry! I just can’t help it. That’s so sweet,” she squeals.

“Stop sending him after me. You’re encouraging him.”

“You’re encouraging him!” she counters. “You let him help you with your assignment, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but-”

“And you showed up at his dorm last week for notes, didn’t you?”

“Okay, but-”

“And you told him off for helping Eun like four days ago, remember?”

“Chae,” you stop her, sternly. “Have you lost your mind? Don’t you realize what all those things have in common?”

“They all are evidence of the fact that you reciprocate his year-long courtship?”

You roll your eyes. “No, idiot. All these things are work-related. I can’t afford to be falling behind, and I need his help.”

“Okay, but you were jealous of Eun-”

“I was annoyed that he was helping other people score higher! The last thing I need right now is the lazy kids of the class becoming my competition too,” you complain, grumbling.

Chae stares you down. “_____, not everything is about your degree,” she says light-heartedly, but you know your statement bothers her.

Exhaling, you shut your eyes. You hate it when conversations come to this. Sometimes, you wish you could just tell people which family you came from. Maybe it would do them good, to make them realize that yes, for you, everything is about your degree. Everything in your life revolves around being successful in this path.

You were cynical but at least you were real. You admitted things the way they were, when competition was competition, you said it, and when you needed something, you asked for it. That made it okay, you told yourself.

And when it comes to Namjoon… it’s especially okay. He’s both the only reason you’re hanging on okay in your degree, and the reason you feel insecure. You wonder how it can be that someone like him exists.

“Anyways, are you really gonna leave talking about Joon there?” Chae scoffs. “He’s liked you since we started. You really won’t do anything about it?”

“Namjoon is nothing but another classmate that stresses me out, Chae. I don’t see him that way. I just like his work ethic.”

Chae laughs. “You’re so skewed, honestly. Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Why, are you planning on ratting me out to him again?”

“No, silly,” she laughs, although you both know it’s likely she’d do it again. “Let’s go to the Autumn fair tomorrow. After I submit.”

“The fair? You mean those three stalls they set up and call it an event?”

She frowns. “Don’t be mean. Hobi and the others have really been working hard on it this year. It’ll be nicer than the last, I promise.”

“As long as there are at least 10 booths this year.”

“You’re too mean for your own good, _____,” she says, tsk-ing. “One day, you’ll see what it’s like to be on the other end.”

Your overactive imagination always paints a skyline for you, where there’s an empty space. You can always picture different styles of buildings, standing together, making a city.

It’s at times like those you realize that even if you wanted to give up, even if you tried to pursue something else, your heart will always come back to this. There is nothing more that belonged to you than this.

Even if it’d become difficult now, it didn’t matter. It became a source of worry more than an outlet of passion, but it’s still your calling. You can’t give up on something you love this much.

“Your toffee apple is dripping,” you hear his voice before you see him.

You want to turn and snap at him but the sticky toffee syrup that falls onto your fingers stops you.

“Ugh,” you groan, trying to fix it. Namjoon’s hand comes out with a tissue, quickly wiping your fingers without a word. Even after he’s done, the sticky feeling remains. “I should just throw this away.”

He laughs. “Let’s get candy corn.”

“No, thanks, I have to go find Chae and Yuna.”

Even though you step away, you hear his footsteps almost immediately behind you.

“What’s the rush?” he says, catching up beside you. When you two walk together like this, his tall figure towers over in a way that makes you feel small. “Shouldn’t you offer to buy me candy corn? Did you forget how I helped you at 5 in the morning two days ago for Professor Labadee’s class?”

“You chose to wake up at that time, not me,” you say, keeping your eyes trained ahead. You weren’t expecting much from this fair, but the students had done well. Bright fairy lights decorate the lamp posts around you and along the long path, dozens of stalls are set up. It all feels a little bit like a movie.

“As long as you got it done,” he says under his breath. You dare to take a glimpse of him and inhale sharply. He’s wearing his smile, he always is, but the fairy lights reflect on his face, illuminating him like an angel. Everything about him feels good.

You look away almost immediately. “Stop following me Namjoon,” you say, stopping at a trinkets stall and smiling at the girl behind the table.

“But I like seeing you outside of architecture things,” he grins confidently.

You opt to ignore him, asking the price of something that catches your eye.

He cranes his neck to see what it is. “Want me to get it for you?”

You quickly counter. “Absolutely not,” you say, handing over your money notes.

“You’re really buying an ornament of buildings?” he cocks a brow. “Don’t you want something like this instead?” he picks up a small snow globe, shaking it so the snow moves. The globe is miniscule to begin with, but you notice how in his hands, it looks almost tiny.

“What can I say? I like buildings.”

He smiles. “More than people, maybe.”

You sigh, ignoring his statement. Once you get the paper bag with your purchase inside, you keep walking ahead. You count to three before you hear his footsteps mimic yours.

“I’ll buy you candy corn, then you leave me alone,” you turn to say to him. “It’s not good that you’re always showing up where I am.”

He nods like an obedient puppy. Then he frowns and asks, “why is it not good?”

When you don’t respond, focusing on walking to the candy booth, he adds, “is it not good for you? Getting attached to me now?”

You don’t have to see his face to know he’s doing his goofy smile again. “It’s not good for you to keep going through these many rejections in a lifetime.”

He laughs, your words not bothering him the slightest. Standing in front of the candy booth, Jungkook and Jae, two of your architect classmates greet you.

“Hey Joon! Aw, you two hanging out again?” Jae smiles widely as if he’s in some big secret. You roll your eyes, not saying a word but pointing to the candy corn.

“_____ is treating me to candy corn. Isn’t she sweet?”

“I’m not treating you out of kindness, I’m doing it so you feel compensated for your efforts with my assignment.”

Jungkook and Jae share an amused look that you almost miss. Shuffling through your pocket, you start counting the money to give. As you hand over the money to Jae, Jungkook places a brown paper bag in Namjoon’s hands.

“You two enjoy yourselves,” Jungkook beams brightly.

You scoff. “Is there really such a thing as enjoyment when I have him on my tail?”

Without bidding them a proper goodbye, you walk away from the stall, leaving the three standing. Like clockwork, Namjoon is beside you again.

“Here,” he says, and suddenly the bag of candy corn is in your hands.

You raise a brow. “What are you giving this to me for? You were the one who wanted it.”

“You were eating a sad, overpriced toffee apple. This should be for you too.”

“Namjoon.” You give him a look, but he pays no mind.

Without saying anything more, you two walk together in silence. It didn’t intend to be this way, but it feels nice now. You feel good that you were dragged out of a cycle of the bedroom to the classroom to the library for once.

Of course, it’s weird that amidst all this, Namjoon is the one beside you. Usually, when you see him, your mind wanders to the place that curses him for being everything you wish you were. But tonight, you’re laying off those thoughts.

Staring at the crowd around the speakers, you two pause for a bit. You see Chae and Yuna, along with your other coursemates all together.

Still beside you, Namjoon speaks out of the blue. “Why don’t you call me Joon?”

“What do you mean? I didn’t realize I was required to,” you shrug at the random question. “I don’t know you like that.”

“Everyone in our class calls me Joon. Even your group member who I met that one time is calling me Joon,” he argues. “You know me better than all those people. If anything, you should be the only one.”

“What are you on about? I don’t know you at all,” you throw a blank look his way. “And don’t argue that we spend a lot of time together. You follow me around and show up where I am. That’s not spending time together.”

“We’re spending time together right now, aren’t we?”

“It’s a first. Don’t get used to it.”

He laughs as if your cold remarks are something affectionate. “I don’t think I really could get used to seeing you outside the library, _____. You’re there more than me and I’m always studying too.”

You scoff cynically. “Are you flexing your rank again on me?”

“_____, if I cared so much about my rank, I wouldn’t be helping you with work all the time,” he laughs, amused.

“I don’t know. Maybe helping me is all part of your plan to keep beating me,” you say. “Isn’t this just a power move? You always showing up to help me.”

He laughs again before his stare stills on you. His eyes are bright and sparkling… or is it just the effect of the stupid fairy lights? You can hardly tell.

Despite yourself, it all makes your stomach drop. You hate it when Namjoon shows up unannounced in your life, but more than that, you hate it when he gives you this kind of look. Like he can’t look anywhere else but at you.

“More than a power move, it’s just a gesture for you.”

The fluttering feeling worsens and you blink. You choose to say nothing, instead staring ahead at the view. “That is the ugliest building I’ve ever seen.”

For a second, he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Eventually, he humors you. “It’s not all that bad.”

“In my professional opinion as a future architect, that is the exact type of building I would want to bulldoze.”

“Well, in my professional opinion as another future architect, I’d say your standards are far too high.”

“I’m allowed to keep my standards high. It’s me,” you smile with a glint in your eye.

He laughs, staring at you softly. “That I can agree with.”

You taunt him playfully. “You’re so predictable. Does it not get tiring hanging off my every word?”

He shakes his head loyally. “Absolutely not. I think everything you say is valuable and worth hanging off.”

“How lame,” you joke although you two share a smile. It’s true, he is a little predictable. But it’s Namjoon’s predictability that at times, catches you off guard. It’s fun, knowing that he’s two steps behind you wherever you are.

A warm feeling stirs in your body and you wonder if it’s the autumn air. Glancing up at Namjoon, the same air ruffles his hair endearingly and you tear yourself away from staring at it.

“I’m only gonna say it once so if there’s any word of mine you wanna hang off, it’s this,” you say before shoving the bag of candy corn back into his hands. “Power move or not, thanks for helping me. I really need it sometimes and I appreciate it.”

The grin on his face widens. “One more time, I didn’t hang off it enough!”

“I told you, only one time.”

“But the music was so loud, I couldn’t hear you well.”

“Too bad.”

“Come on, _____, take pity on me.”

“Shut up and eat your candy corn.”

You find yourself quickly back in your routine after the Autumn fair, working on new assignments and projects till your worst nightmare comes to life unexpectedly.

“Please be on time, _____!” Chae repeats to you for the fifth time that morning.

“Chae, I’ll be there. I’ll literally run from the design building to the auditorium, okay?”

She clicks her tongue at you. “Stop acting like you’re doing me a favor by showing up. You should be excited.”

“I am. But… I mean, do we really need this kind of random assembly for our architecture department?” you groan, slipping your laptop into its case. “Can’t they just give us the extra time to work on our homework?”

“But there’ll be companies there!” she retorts, wide-eyed and excited. “Just imagine. This is like those movies, where they come and scout students and then bam, life is sorted.”

You nod, forcing a smile. You remember your privilege, knowing your worry has never once been finding work but living up to the work that was set out for you. But you could never explain that here. How could you cry about the burden that kept you so troubled when it was a burden any one of your friends would happily want?

“Okay. I’ll see you there,” you settle for a wave, walking out to leave. You rush with your bag on your back to your classroom, immersed in your lesson till the hour finishes up.

For the moments after class finishes, your mind is blank. You’re going over your homework in your head, packing your things and your eyes widen. The meeting. You almost forgot.

True to your words, you actually do end up running from the design building to the auditorium. Sprinting from your class to the auditorium proves to be a harder workout than you anticipated and your heart can’t stop racing.

Stepping inside the auditorium, you jump into the first empty seat you see at the entrance.

“Where is she?” you mumble under your breath. Your eyes shift around the room, looking for a familiar head of short black hair. Catching sight of Chae, you wave to her but she doesn’t notice you at all. Instead, she’s busy talking to a group of students all from your year.

Everyone’s sat together, cozy and comfortable in a conversation together. You can even see Namjoon in the row above Chae, chatting energetically. Your heart strangely pangs.

Sometimes, seeing everyone like this, everyone from your major and year together, made you feel more like an outsider than anything. At first, you’d chalked it up to be because of your obsession with studying and academics… but students better than you, students like Namjoon and Mina, all seemed to be doing fine.

In the end, you realized it isn’t anything to do with that. You feel like an outsider because you are one. You’ve tried your hardest to blend in, but the fact remains that you feel alone in the problems you have. You’ve kept your identity as the daughter of HN Architects a secret, you’ve kept your family pressures a secret… Now you’re alone in the burden of your struggles.

Sometimes, you’ve thought about opening up. But the thought terrifies you even more.

If you felt so alone while keeping the truth of your ambitions a secret… there’d be no telling what kind of way your friends would treat you after finding out.

“We’re lucky enough to have… here’s a representative from Canvas Corp… looking for fresh talent… Yongchan Architecture…” you’re hardly paying attention to the speakers on stage till you finally hear, “and most fortunately, the chairman of HN Architects!”

Your head shoots up so fast that it almost flies off. No fucking way.

Your father is smiling on the stage, wearing a crisp suit and greeting the architecture department heads. Without realizing it, your body cowers back into your seat as you see his eyes scan the auditorium. He must be looking for you - his daughter.

His daughter that not a single soul in this room knew was you.

Your heart goes into panic mode before you try to calm yourself down. Relax, you mutter repeatedly to yourself although it’s less effective than you thought it’d be.

Your eyes dance between your father on stage and your group of friends with Chae sitting seats away from you. Neither of them have noticed you.

Instead, your classmates are all watching your father with starstruck eyes. They’re staring at your father like he’s their idol.

Well, objectively, maybe he could be. After all, you admire your father for the very same reason every architecture student does - your father is a legend. His company has one of the best reputations in the country, which feeds your pride, and he’s nothing short of a hard-working, inspiring man.

Namjoon, in particular, is staring at your father like he can’t believe his eyes. It’s a look you’ve never seen from him before. Like he’s both nervous and thinks he’s in a dream. It’s almost endearing.

“To celebrate having the chairman of HN Architects with us today, we’ll have him say a few words!” Mr. Lim, the head of the architecture department, announces enthusiastically into the mic. He turns to your father, “do you mind?”

“Not at all!” your father grins, taking the mic before starting. “It’s my pleasure to be here today! In fact, seeing all of you reminds me of my own days as an architecture student…”

He trails off into a long speech, excitedly. You’ve been witness to every single one of your father’s inspirational speeches since the day you were born so you fight back a yawn. On the contrary, your classmates look like they’re hanging onto every single word.

As your father paces across the stage, he inches towards your side. You blink in panic, bending down but before you know it, it’s too late. His eyes sparkle with joy.

You almost worry he’s gonna wave at you mid-speech. But he doesn’t, simply shooting an overly friendly smile your way. You sneak a glance at your classmates and they’re all giving you a strange look - one that most definitely reads what the heck is he smiling at you for?

Meeting Chae’s eyes in particular, you give an awkward smile and shrug. Soon enough, your father turns to the side and you finally think you can breathe.

“That’s why I’d like to encourage you all to live up to your potential! The world is changing around you as you know it and as future architects, you can be a part of that,” your father enthusiastically continues. His eyes are on you again. “And this is what I tell my beautiful daughter everyday! She loves skylines, my dear _____, and she’s going to be a wonderful architect too!”

My life is officially over.

A little dramatic but that exact thought crosses your mind as you duck into your seat. You think you hear the collective gasp around the auditorium or maybe your ears are playing tricks on you.

No, it’s probably as bad you think it is. Your father’s called you out by name and exposed your identity that you worked so hard to conceal. Your life is quite literally over.

Oblivious to your misery, your father grins happily on stage. He returns the mic to Mr. Lim before stepping to the side. The rest of the assembly goes by without you realizing. You’re still numb to the fact of what just happened.

You risk a glance at your classmates, and in cliche movie fashion, they’re all staring at you with mouths gaping wide open. Every single one of them.

Your neck heats up and you quickly turn around. But curiosity gets the best of you a few minutes later, and you risk looking again.

They’re still staring at you in shock. Like they can’t believe their eyes.

Chae especially is looking at you with hurt flashing across her face. It squeezes at your heart and you feel overcome with guilt for lying to your friend for a year. You don’t dare to imagine what she’s thinking now.

Without realizing, your eyes travel over to Namjoon. Much to your surprise, he’s not looking at you. He’s the only one with his eyes looking ahead blankly, deep in thought.

You frown, evading everyone’s stares to focus on him. An unrecognizable emotion is written all over his face… is it realization? Regret? Embarrassment?

You can hardly tell. But for the first time, an uncomfortable feeling plunges in your stomach at the fact that Namjoon’s not looking at you.

“Dad!” you cry. “How could you do that?”

Your father smiles happily at the sight of you, the two of you standing outside the auditorium in a secluded, private spot. The torture, that was the assembly, has finally come to an end.

“What do you mean?” he answers in confusion. “Do you mean showing up here? Because I was invited by that Mr. Lim fellow, he-”

“Not that!” you whine, groaning into your palms. “I’m talking about saying I’m your daughter in front of the whole architecture department!”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, that? What did I do wrong?”

Your jaw drops. “Dad, are you being serious?”

He nods, clear puzzlement on his face.

“Don’t you remember? I specifically asked for you and Mom to make sure that it never gets out!” you say. “Now, you’ve told everyone I go to college with that I’m the daughter of the man behind HN Architects!”

He blinks for a few seconds. “Is that so wrong?” he almost pouts like a child. “I didn’t know it was such a problem.”

“Of course, it is! Why do you think I asked you not to tell anyone?”

“...I thought you were being modest.”

“Modest?!” you exclaim, before sighing. There’s no use berating your father. It’s no one’s fault but your own for not preparing better for this situation.

“Did you really not want anyone to find out?”

You nod weakly.

“Why not?”

“I… I can’t explain it. They’ll freak out,” you look down. You can’t imagine how much worse your stress is gonna get from now on - it isn’t enough that your own title of the daughter of HN Architects is choking you to death… now you’ll have to deal with every single one of your classmates doing the same thing.

Things will never be the same again. For every grade you get, it’ll be discussed as the grade of the HN Architects’ daughter. For every drawing or idea you’ll submit, it’ll be scrutinized as the work of a girl from privilege. The pressure would multiply infinitely.

“Oh dear, don’t be silly,” your father suddenly says, resting his hand on your head. “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t realize it was so serious to you. But even if they know, it’s not an issue. You’re an excellent student and it’s only right they pay you the respect as the future CEO of HN Architects.”

You shoot your father a smile but your stomach drops. “I guess so, thanks,” you mumble, unable to explain to him that it’s exactly what he said that terrifies you.

For the rest of the day, you hide out off-campus in hopes to avoid facing reality.

“_____, I think you need to pay for the emotional shock you gave us,” Hobi laughs at the lunch table as soon as you arrive.

Hesitantly, you sit beside Chae who doesn’t share a word with you. Since yesterday, you haven’t even made eye contact with her, despite being her roommate.

“I think I almost spat out my water when I heard my daughter,” Mina jokes and the table echoes in laughter. You smile awkwardly.

“Yeah… it’s not really a big deal,” you shrug.

“Not a big deal?! Hello! We’re talking to the next HN Architects CEO right now!” another student pipes up.

“_____, forgive me for all I did wrong last semester,” Yuri playfully adds.

“I think we need to be cleaning the floor for her to walk on!”

These statements all fly around the table, exchanged with laughs and smiles. Part of you cowers in the attention, uncomfortable by such blatant recognition of your upbringing.

Another part of you wonders… will things be okay?

You take a careful look around the table of your classmates. Not a single one seems to wear a glare, all sharing in jokes and smiles. For the strangest reason… you feel at ease.

Chae suddenly stands up, with her tray. “I’m done eating. I’ll see you guys later.”

Instantly, you mimic her and chase behind her retreating figure. “Wait Chae-”

“I have class right now-”

Like a child, you jump in front of her to block her path. “Okay, please just hear me out,” you say, pouting. “I’m sorry.”

She sighs. “What are you sorry for? It’s not a big deal.”

“You must feel… annoyed, right?”

Chae blinks at you. “I’ll admit, I was irritated at first. You come from such privilege and I’ve unloaded so much crap on you sometimes about being scared about post-college life while you never had that… but, I’m not really mad about that. You can’t help who you are, right?”

You nod. “You’re still mad at me though, aren’t you? For hiding it?”

She takes a second before replying, “I just… you’re so unreachable sometimes, _____. After I found out, I kind of realized why you’re so stressed all the time and what you meant whenever you alluded to things about your pressures and all… I’m just annoyed you never shared that part of you.”

“I’m sorry.”

For the first time since yesterday, Chae cracks a smile. “Don’t be sorry. I just want you to be more open with me. You don’t need to feel like you need to hide your background… I would’ve tried to understand either way.”

Her words soothe you more than you can explain. Since entering your major, you haven’t once relied on the people around you for support that wasn’t academic. Now, you’re realizing your fatal flaw.

“I’ll try to be better,” you say with a nod. “Thank you for not being mad at me.”

She laughs. “Anyway, you don’t need to worry about me,” she says with a glance elsewhere. “You should check up on him. He’s been spooked since yesterday.”

You turn on your heel to see Namjoon, walking around with the same strange expression on his face from the assembly. For a brief second, your eyes meet but the second flashes, and he quickly looks away.

“Did you see that?!” you scoff. “He just ignored me!”

Chae smiles. “Wow, there really is a first for everything.”

“What’s with him?” you say, watching his awkward walk in your opposite direction. He keeps glancing in your direction, but once he sees you staring at him, he swiftly looks away. It’s a completely new side to him.

“I don’t know,” Chae shrugs. “He’s being weird. I thought he’d be running after you like always, but he’s resorted to this.”

You scoff again, unfamiliar with this Namjoon who runs away from you, rather than to you. You wonder what’s running through his mind, before pushing the thought away. He’s bound to come after you again after a few days.

The confidence with which you assumed Namjoon would be all over you again is faltering.

It’s been a full week since the assembly, and while life has seemingly gone back to normal for you (as normal as things can be)... Namjoon certainly has not.

In classes, he picks the furthest seat away on purpose. You even started to tease him by trying to sit in his front row with him, but instead, you found him in the back row - where he can’t even see.

His lunches seem to be perfectly timed to not clash with yours. All of a sudden, he’s no longer in the library either. All the places you’d easily find Namjoon hovering over you, he’s disappeared from.

“Does he think this is effective?!” you rant to Chae in your dorm room. “That by suddenly ignoring me, I’ll become obsessed with him?!”

Chae smiles at you knowingly. “I don’t know… if that was his plan to begin with, I’d say it’s pretty effective-”

“Shut up, Chae! I’m just saying this is all so stupid!” you scoff. “Once or twice is fine but he’s actively avoiding me! He saw me in the library yesterday and acted like he forgot a book to leave! We were in the library for god’s sake! What book did he forget that he couldn’t find there?!”

Chae giggles like the situation is laugh-worthy. “Maybe he’s just busy.”

“He made time during final exams last year to bother me. How much busier could he be than he was then?”

“Or maybe he doesn’t want to distract you.”

“It’s not that for sure. Whenever I’d tell him that he’s distracting me before, he wouldn’t care,” you mumble under your breath annoyedly. Chae continues to grin at your behavior, as if your reaction were amusing.

You don’t say it to her but you know very well why you’re annoyed beyond relief. It’s because you know it’s to do with finding out about HN Architects.

You groan. You expected your classmates to be weird around you, maybe even your professors… but Namjoon was the last person you thought would suddenly make a 180 after learning about your family.

That’s why it’s aggravating. Because it’s the one thing you didn’t think he’d care about.

A part of you fears he’s realized just how pathetic you are. After all, Namjoon probably knows how much more promising he is compared to you and now… he had to sit with the fact that you were the daughter of HN Architects.

“Why don’t you just approach him yourself?”

You’re momentarily stunned by Chae’s suggestion. You shoot her a dirty glare.

“What?!”

“I’m not gonna chase after Namjoon! He should approach me himself!”

Chae looks at you like you’re crazy. “You’re the one who wants him to talk to you!”

“Exactly! He should come to me like he always does.”

A laugh escapes Chae’s lips. “Oh, _____… you don’t even realize it, do you?”

You cock a brow before shaking your head. “I don’t have time for your indirect dialogue. I’m just saying that if Namjoon doesn’t come to me and talk this out soon, I’m gonna have to do something very crazy.”

Chae’s eyes flicker with amusement. “Oh? And what’s that?”

You grimace, as if even saying it brings you humiliation. “I’m gonna go talk to him first.”

Chae bursts out laughing, despite your solemn expression. You brush her off, spending the rest of the night on your design homework but secretly planning on wringing Namjoon’s throat if he doesn’t go back to normal soon.

By now, you’re sure Namjoon can feel the daggers you’re shooting into his back.

He’s even risked turning back a few times, to see who’s glaring at him. But as soon as your eyes meet, his head spins around as if it were all in your head. He focuses on the professor teaching ahead of him, taking notes diligently.

Beside you, Chae says with a nudge, “so are you gonna do that very crazy thing you were planning?”

You ignore her for the sake of gritting your teeth. Usually, you have no trouble focusing in classes. It’s all because of this wretched situation that you’re so off-game.

As soon as the professor wraps up his powerpoint, you’re faster than anyone else in the class at packing up your things and zooming out the door. You don’t even bid Chae goodbye.

You tap your foot impatiently, staring directly at your target.

Namjoon… try and ignore me now.

Hooking his bag over his shoulder, Namjoon comes to the door of the classroom before stopping his tracks. Aha, you smile pleased.

“Ah, I just forgot… to talk about my assignment with Mr. Choi,” he mutters out loud to no one in particular. The acting is so terrible that you don’t even have to think about it to know he’s intending it for you to hear.

You march up to him. “No, you don’t,” you scoff and when he looks up at the ceiling, you jump like an infant calling for attention. “Namjoon, if you value your life, you’re gonna drop this act right now,” you say in a menacing voice.

Immediately, he gulps and looks down at you. His height towers over yours but you smile, knowing you’ve gained the upper hand here. He’s looking at you just as he did before - completely enamoured.

You say nothing but give a deadly gesture to follow you. He obeys without complaint.

When you two are finally in a spot you deem private enough, you raise your chin and look at him happily. Under your gaze, he looks down uncomfortably.

“So you want me to say it or will you explain what the hell is going on?”

He blinks. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, _____.”

Your blood boils. Now, he wants to feign ignorance. “You’re joking,” you deadpan.

He looks at you innocently and shakes his head. You sigh, blinking in confusion.

This whole situation is a first. True to your words, you’ve never actually… had to do anything more than bat an eye to know Namjoon would come to you. You don’t know the words to even ask what’s wrong.

“_____,” he says in a low voice. You glance up at him, completely losing your train of thought. The sight of him has never registered you disorientated before. But now, you can’t help but trace your eyes over his dimples and sparkling eyes.

You scoff at yourself. You must’ve lost your mind temporarily. “You know what I’m talking about!”

He shakes his head so you continue, “you used to always come to the library at my timings and sit on my lunch table.”

“Oh,” he nods. “That’s because I wanted to sleep in more so I changed my schedule around a bit.”

You blink at his explanation. “You sat at the back of the class when I came to the front row-”

“I just wanted to see what it’s like to sit there. Turns out, it sucks,” he pauses when you don’t reply. “_____?”

You frown, part confused and part innocently. “I just mean… why aren’t you following me anymore?”

The words are out of your mouth before you can help it and your eyes widen in humiliation. That isn’t the way you wanted to ask the question.

Namjoon, instead, is amused. He smirks ever so slightly, before cocking his brow and asking, “Are you asking me why I don’t chase you around anymore?”

His newfound confidence almost makes you lose your footing. This is Namjoon - the nerdy guy who’d come to you. He can’t have this effect on you.

You scoff, faking an assured smile. “Are you denying that you chased me around?”

He blinks. “I mean-”

“Surely, you accept the fact that you did chase me around for a whole year,” you say with a smile playing on your lips. Of course, between the two of you, you both know very well of Namjoon’s infatuation with you. He’s danced around those feelings for both of your comedy’s sake… but this time, you won’t let that slide.

He looks at you, tongue poking in his cheek. “Fine. I do chase you around.”

You almost smile with victory but you stop yourself. Before you can speak, he continues.

“But I won’t anymore. I’m sorry. It was wrong of me,” he says sincerely, seemingly ready on his toes to walk away. Your fingers wrap around his wrist without realizing.

“Wait!” you frown displeased. He’s glancing down at where your touch meets his hand and you instantly let go. “This makes no sense.”

He blinks, confused. “What do you… isn’t this what you’ve wanted?”

“You can’t just change your mind like that!” you argue, a strange desperation cutting into your voice. “You can’t make people get used to you and do that!”

Much to your surprise, he wears a small smile. “I didn’t think it’d bother you so much.”

“I can’t stand you,” you groan. “You chase me around, then you find out one tiny fact about my family and now, you think you’re so much better than me to come after me!” you yell, your heart hammering against your chest. You sound like a child, you know as much but… suddenly around him, all logic’s been thrown out your brain.

“_____,” he says in a breath, a glint in his eye that reads surprise and amusement. His dimples are poking out and you wonder what it’d be like to affectionately poke into one. “Do you… did you like when I would come to you?”

There’s no self-preserving answer to this, one that can save both your dignity and pride. You know what you should say to his question, but nerves are prickling under your skin.

It isn’t the nerves you feel before submitting a drawing or entering an exam, but a whole new uncharted territory of nerves. Everything about this conversation is uncharted territory.

“_____, do you…” he starts a question, before nervously brushing the nape of his neck. He looks shy to even ask but after a moment, he looks at you like a child with candy and says, “do you like me?”

Your heart’s in your stomach. Immediately, you laugh, “no! No! Why would I?! Are you crazy?! Why would I ever like-”

“I don’t know,” he blinks innocently, but the stare he holds on you seems suddenly intimate. “That’s what I’m thinking. Why would you ever care about why I stopped chasing after you, if you don’t like me?”

His cocky grin annoys you. You shoot him a deathly look. “Don’t get too confident with me, Joon,” you say although you’re fumbling with words. “I still remember when you couldn’t even look me in the eye.”

He takes a step closer, holding your stare with no qualms. Your heart speeds up again, like you’ve been running.

“_____,” he says softly with a victorious smile. “You like me, don’t you?”

“I’m not answering your stupid question. First, you explain to me why the hell you think you can treat me the way you have the last week-”

“Because I thought you didn’t like me back,” he answers smoothly. “You’re the daughter of HN Architects and I’ve been wasting your time all year long. I’ve always felt intimidated by you… but now, I realized I really wasn’t worth your time.”

You blink with a frown. “Namjoon-”

“I feel really embarrassed, _____… If I ever wanted to work at HN Architects, I wouldn’t even be able to show my face knowing the way I’ve bothered you-”

“You’ve never bothered me.”

“Huh?”

Your cheeks flush and you suddenly become very aware of the words that escaped your lips. You cast a hesitant glance at Namjoon and you can’t help it. Suddenly, everything feels a lot clearer.

“You know, you’re the kind of architect my father dreams about,” you find yourself saying. “You’re the kind of student someone like me should be. It all comes natural to you. I love buildings but everything I do, it’s just part of who you are… that’s why I acted like you bothered me.”

He’s at a loss for words before muttering, “_____…”

“All I ever think about is trying to fit the ideal I know I have to be and it all comes easy for you. You feel embarrassed in front of me…” you laugh with a scoff. “How do you think I feel, needing your help?”

“I never wanted to compete with you,” he says. “I just wanted to be by your side. I really wasn’t helping you for anything apart from looking for an excuse to be near you.”

There it is… the fluttering feeling.

The truth is, you’ve known all this time too. You’ve known that there was never any ulterior motive, just your cynical mind trying to conjure excuses.

You almost hate yourself at this moment. Your insecurity over your work has warped your thoughts so much that you convinced yourself that… that you feel nothing but annoyance for Namjoon.

“_____,” he starts. His hand hesitantly reaches up, stopping multiple times on its way before finally brushing your hair away from your forehead.

“I think it goes without saying but in my eyes, you’re the smartest person in our major and every time I’m with you, I don’t even care if you reject me or look for an excuse to go away,” he says. “You don’t even realize the way I see you.”

Your eyes sting and you’re not sure if it’s because his words move you or you’ve just forgotten to blink for a long while. “You’re so corny.”

He laughs. “Well, someone needs to tell you you’re doing a good job because I can tell you’re not telling yourself,” he says before sheepishly adding, “and I thought we were exchanging what we like about each other.”

“Who said I like you?”

He grins, ruffling your hair despite the scowl you give him. You say nothing but then give a smile. You didn’t expect today to feel so good… but somehow, that insecurity that plagues your mind at all hours of the day disappears for a while.

All you can think about is wanting this feeling to last with him. Without warning, you reach to grab Namjoon’s wrist to walk out into the open garden of the campus. In front of your sight, there’s a skyline of buildings decorating the city.

“Do you still stand by your statement that that building is the ugliest?”

You grin. “It’s literally hideous, Joon. I can’t believe you’re the top of our class but think those colors look nice together.”

He gives a warm laugh, unable to disguise his happiness at the way you call him endearingly. Your eyes go back and forth between the skyline and Namjoon beside you before deciding that while buildings are your first true love… there’s something even more beautiful about the boy next to you.

hehe so excited to write on this blog if u read till the end jus know u have all my love

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Murder, He Wrote

Co-written with @southerngracela

Part 1

Warnings: A creepy house, bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap, violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Once again READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ us if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.

Series Masterlist.

"Y/L/N," your dick editor poked his head into your office rather gruffly. "I'm gonna need that celebrity haunted mansion review on my desk by tomorrow morning. I want to run it ASAP.”

"Make it happen." He said simply, before he turned and left.

With a groan you banged your head on your desk. Why had you not listened to your dad and become a damned teacher instead of a journalist. Dealing with snotty nosed brats would be easier than this.

I’m tall when I’m young, and I’m short when I’m old. I also give heat but not enough to prevent cold

“Candle…” you spoke “The answer is Candle…”

Turning back round, you then spotted that the door at the end of the hall was open, and you could clearly make out a Jack-o-Lantern looking at you, the candle inside flickering. Its face was creepy, really creepy. The nose and eyes were harsh triangles and the grotesque, twisted smile it sported was constructed of sharp, jagged teeth. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone. You may have had no service, but the flashlight was working. Keeping the light held in front of you so you could watch your step on the cracked tiles of the hall, you made your way towards the lantern and found yourself in a large, run down kitchen. The lantern and your flash-light provided the only light in the room as the windows were all overshadowed by gnarly trees, their branches every so often scratching the glass as they swayed slightly in the wind outside. The only other sound to be heard was the drip, drip of the faucet in the porcelain Belfast sink. A closer look revealed the discoloration of the water, a brownish concoction as it swirled down the plug. There was an envelope on the side of the counter by the lantern and as you crossed towards it, a movement in your peripheral made you spin round only to see a lone mouse scuttling away across the dirty wooden floor. You placed your phone down, flash-light up causing it to light up an area of the Artex plaster ceiling, and picked up the envelope, tearing it open to find your next clue

Mr Jack-o-Lantern lights the night His eerie face is shining bright The ????? that shaped him lies around And holds your next clue safe and sound

Many a Child on me they may play Any time be it night or day. My surface is hard, on it you can knock I have many keys, but can’t open a single lock…

“What has keys but doesn't open a lock?" You pondered aloud. Adjusting your cross-body strap, you sigh. Then the answer came to you, "a piano."

"Alright, Lee, you were always one for a flare of the dramatics, let's see what you've got."

Step by step you followed the note that chimed every few steps and you found yourself beginning to wonder if it was a recording or if someone were really playing it, timing their play with the sound of your boots over the rotting floor. You wound your way through the narrow hall, ancient wall paper peeling from its tack, mastick and plaster falling away to reveal studs in places. Finally, to your left you heard the key loud and clear. It was in that room. Steeling yourself for a possible encounter, you carefully pushed the sliding door away from its hinge. Your booted feet traipsed across the brittle carpet, dust swirling in the air in front of your face. Cobwebs adorned many of the surfaces and there were dirty white sheets covering the various pieces of furniture in the room. Apart from, that is, the large ornate grand piano that sat in the middle of the room. The stool in front of it suddenly jolted back and tilted toward you, making you scream at the gracious invitation by an as of yet invisible host.

“Get a grip Y/N” you mumbled to yourself. You were surprised to find just how much this place was starting to set your nerves on edge. You took a deep breath, the pounding of blood in your ears began to quiet and you took a look around the room. There was no one in there with you, you were alone. With slow, deliberate steps you moved towards the piano, your eyes sweeping over the mahogany surface, searching for an envelope with the next clue, but there was none to be found. The surface of the piano was thick with dust and grime, but as you scanned over it you suddenly stopped. On one of the white keys the dust was disturbed, as if it had been wiped away and you instantly realised that had to be the key that your so far elusive host must have been playing. You paused, biting at the nail on your thumb of you right hand, before you reached out with your left and tapped the key. The melodic note rang around the room, clearly, echoing in the silence and for some reason you were taken back to a part of the article you had been thinking about earlier that day, and how Detective Blanc had told you that he had ‘played a key’ during the various family interviews ‘to make my point without interruption’. It didn’t pass you by how fitting that actually was at that moment but you didn’t have much time to reflect on it, as you heard a creak and a grinding noise and you spun to your left to see a panel in the wall sliding open. It made you jump slightly, but this time you didn’t scream.

Not for the first time, you had to admire the effort Lucas was going to here. It was clear he had a flare for the dramatic, anyone could see that from his films and interviews but this was pretty damned good. It was making you wonder how he was doing it. Was he somewhere watching, pressing buttons to enact the various parts of his show? Instinctively you glanced up, looking for a camera or something you were being monitored by but you found no evidence of anything. “Well, in for a penny…” you muttered, crossing towards the small hatch. It was just wide enough for you to get your hand into, but you really didn’t want to. You grabbed your torch and shone it into the hole, finding nothing but the envelope so deciding it was safe you reached in and pulled it out.

Sometimes coloured, sometimes plain sometimes frosted, sometimes stain Be you short or thin, or fat or tall, this simple invention, lets you look right through a wall

You pondered for a moment, before the answer came to you. Fairly quickly you might add. Feeling a little smug you smiled and cleared your throat “Window. It’s a window.”

“Tonight is not all fright and fear, a trick or treat is waiting near, the bedroom holds a sweet surprise, there solve the clue to claim your prize” you bit your lip and looked up at the top of the stairs, wondering when someone was going to jump out at you. Taking a deep breath, you made your way up, cringing at each creak your feet caused on the old warped wood, but it didn’t sway your determination to make it to your destination. Halfway up, a shadow flickered at the corner of your vision at the top on the landing and you froze, your mouth going dry once more. As you stood there, shining your light into the dark you caught the same scent from moments ago lingering in the air only this time it was stronger, far more powerful and you were able to denote even more of the notes within. Aalongside the amber and cedar your heightened senses picked up deep, earthy, sandalwood notes with a hint of citrus in the background. And it was familiar for reasons beyond the fact you’d smelt it down stairs. But, as you’d surmised earlier, it was a cologne. Probably one worn by a few people you knew.

Yes that was it.

“Jesus Christ Y/N what has gotten into you?” You rolled your eyes and continued up the stairs, clearly your ‘Celebrity Host’ was once more nearby. You cautiously got to the top of the stairs and glanced around. Nothing. So turning to your left you entered the first room you found on the hall. It was empty bar a creepy looking doll that had been separated from its head which lay about a foot to the right. As you looked around the room, the wind intensified outside, the rustling of the leaves and branches became louder, as did the creaking of the house…and then you gulped, as you realised it wasn’t just the house that was creaking. In the corner of the room, the little chair had begun to rock, slowly. Blowing out a breath and shaking your head, you looked around at the thin strips of wallpaper which showed little trucks. Crayon markings scrambled upon the wall where wallpaper used to stick but other than that there was nothing in there bar some pretty good theatrics. You had to hand it to Lee, the creepy feel was fantastic and you were going to give him one hell of a write up for this. You took a while longer to take in the detail, smiling to yourself before you closed the door and headed to the one over the hallway.

I’m light as a feather, yet the strongest person can’t hold me for five minutes. What am I?

You froze, for the answer was simple. Breath.

And that was it, you needed to get out. You started to back away from the bed, but before you had so much as made it 3 steps you collided with something hard. A forceful arm across your front pinned you to a firm and broad chest that engulfed your frame while a cloth with a distinct smell and cool moisture covered your airways.

"Surprise" The voice in your ear, calm, deep and known, was all you heard before nothing consumed you.

*****

But then, didn’t everything for him? He was Ransom Drysdale, and he was fucking untouchable.

And now she was all his.

*****

Your night flashed quickly through your glutamate and adrenaline flooded brain

"Drysdale," you repeated the last word you had spoken in a shaky, frightful voice. "No."

Rage and fear collided in your chest as you screamed out the only thing you could think of, "HELP!" A strangled sound left your chest followed by another cry out for help, "Please, someone, HELP!"

"Nice to see someone's awake," Ransom deadpanned.

You stared for a brief moment and screamed for help again, louder, and louder, and louder until you felt your voice crack and strain, your cords burning as the sound shattered away.

"Are you done?" He cocked his head to the side and folded his arms across his chest as he stood firm and tall in front of the bed.

"What the hell are you doing? Why am I here?" It hurt to speak but you had to ask.

“Because I want you here, Sweetheart.”

"You... Killed... Him." You grit out through clenched teeth, and his hand was on your throat before you finished your breath, squeezing just enough to make a point.

A struggled chuckle came from your tightened throat, "Jesus Christ, you actually believe your own bull shit don't you?"

"You've got a fucking mouth on you," he breathed as his body loomed ominously over the bed and your frame, tiny in comparison to his.

You swallowed, feeling the hard lump strain to pass his grip, "Not really, you just don't like hearing the truth."

His eyes bored into yours and you struggled for breath as his hand constricted around your neck whilst he squeezed a little harder "Oh shut up Y/N."

"Or what, Hugh?" You croaked.

A little flash of anger tore through his ocean blue eyes like lightning in a storm. His eyes bored into yours as you fought to swallow.

"Or I'll shut you up myself."

“Don’t... fucking call me that!” his voice rose to a loud, angry instruction, apoplectic rage seeping from him to you, and it was almost stifling.

Ransom scoffed, "Kill you, no, see I'm gonna teach you a lesson. One about how money and status get you anything you want.”

You frowned, as you looked into his icy blue eyes, utterly confused “Anything you want? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You'll see Princess” was the sole explanation you got as he knelt between your legs.

"Don't" you squeezed, attempting to stop his wrists and close your legs.

“I said no.” you tried to keep your voice stern, despite the fact you were fighting back the fear and sadness at the realization of his task was now at hand.

His large hands smoothed over your dress, cupping your breasts and he let out a moan as you bit back the bile in your throat that was threatening to spill from your mouth. You pushed harder trying to force him off of you but it was of no use, his broad frame caged you in, engulfing you under him.

"Please, stop," you managed. "Hugh, stop!"

And you knew then, you were in for it.

"You're gonna fucking cum, aren't you Princess? I can feel it," he ground out, chasing his own release. You remained silent, breathing heavily as your insides coiled and tightened. "Fucking tight ass pussy," he gritted. You refused to cry out, not wanting to give him anything you were able not to, and it took everything you had to remain silent. In desperation, to quell the cry that was rising from your throat, you bit your tongue, tasting the coppery taste of blood in your mouth as you came hard around his cock.

His hand let go of your face and you stared at him, swallowing, trying to gather your voice in your painfully dry throat.

“You'll be begging me to accept your apology.” He snarled, his face contorted in rage “You'll see who the whiney child is soon enough. I promise Princess, it's not me”

“Fuck you.” He sneered as he rose to his feet, wiping his face. Silently he rearranged his pants, tucking his now soft cock back inside them, and swept from the room, locking the door behind him.

He could make out 3 vivid red lines down his left cheek where she’d dug her nails into his flesh and his jaw clenched. His hair was out of place, his cheeks flushed and his normally cold eyes were blazing with anger. But as he stood there staring at his dishevelled reflection, he knew it wasn’t the fact she’d scratched or spat at him that was pissing him off so much. It was the fact she had persistently voiced a name he despised, one that was used to control those lower than him in his every-day life. One reserved for The Help, for outsiders. It reminded him of his family, of his mother and father, the two people in his life who should have loved him unconditionally but instead had him out of ‘duty’ and had taken every opportunity to pass him off into the care of others they could. It reminded him of Walt persistently telling him he was a no-one, that he would amount to nothing over than a trust-fund baby.

It reminded him of Harlan. The one person in that entire fucked up patriarchy that had shown him an ounce of care. But who had screwed him over in the end. The anger that had been simmering inside him boiled over, the blood pumped into his ear and with an angry yell and an almost involuntary action Ransom hurled the glass tumbler straight at the wall where it smashed against the tasteful silver and white wallpaper, the 25 year old single malt trickling down the wall…just like the tears and trickled down Y/N’s cheeks as he’d forced her to look at him whilst he took what was his.

As she’d glared up at him he’d noticed a fierceness in her eyes that he was surprised to find had unnerved him a little, because she clearly wasn’t going to be as easy to break as he thought.

“Fuck it.” He mumbled to himself, grabbing the bottle from the bar before he turned and left the room, taking a large swig as he went, the burn in his throat going someway to settling his nerves.

This would work out, because he was Ransom fucking Drysdale, a man who always got what he wanted in the end, and she was going to be no exception.

**** WIYPT Tag List:

Everything

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Ransom Drysdale

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