#maybe one of her previous coworkers who got fucked up? maybe shes an insider for the group who has the man in black? hmmmm
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My feeling right now about the cast
#in some capacity#they all know something fucked up#but sam knows in the most clueless way#breaking it down. sam has seen shit he about the magnus institute he wants to understand because it haunts him#alice knows much more than she lets on. shes seen something within the government's office that fucked her up.#maybe one of her previous coworkers who got fucked up? maybe shes an insider for the group who has the man in black? hmmmm#lena is boss lady probably starkwall related. working beyond her work description. regarding cover ups?#gwen saw stuff her family was privvy to one way or another and wants that power#colin knows about the recordings. saw somw lines if code in the system that fucked him up. ate some keyboards at work idk#and celia? oh boy celia definitely works for aomething pn the putside and infiltrated the govt to gwt some inside stuff.#shes seen and knows it all... whether from tapes or its her she knows about the multiverse#tmagp#the magnus protocol#tmagp spoilers
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#kinguea | possesive uea, jealousy
uea never liked confronting people. he never made the first move when it comes to confronting, but that doesn't mean he won't retaliate. if he has to, then he would.
everything in his life has been smooth sailing. he is loved and surrounded by people who loves and cares for him. his work is steady, even with the addition of a new intern.
except that said intern seems to be testing him.
right at the introduction, uea had noticed how she eyed his boyfriend. it was full of admiration and desire.
nothing unusual. uea had seen that look from other people, even before him and king got together, so it wasn't a big deal.
that is until she decided to make her move.
she started by showering king compliments even for the littlest thing. on top of that, she would hold his hand or cling on to his arms with no shame. in front of their coworkers. in front of uea.
everytime she does that, uea could feel everyone stare at him, waiting for his reaction and see what he would do. he never really had to do anything bc he trusts king and he's glad he does.
king, being the polite man that he is, would always reply along the lines of "you're welcome" "just doing my job". sometimes, he even reminds her that he's her senior and mentor while subtly removing her hold from him.
uea could kiss him right then and there.
however, that didn't seem to sway her so she decided to step up her game.
she began bringing him gifts like foods and drinks saying she had 'accidentally' made an extra the night prior so she decided to share it as to not waste one.
"she said she made extra, but only shares it to p'king. hmph." uea would hear jade whisper. he couldn't help but chuckle bc it wasn't only jade who seems to be annoyed at her in behalf of uea.
it was the whole IT department.
ever since they noticed how she's acting towards king, they have been asking uea why he's not saying or doing anything. like why isn't he saying that king is his.
all he could say is "it wouldn't be as interesting if i just outwardly say it. i rather show it, you know?" with a cunning smile on his face.
from then on, they would constantly drop hints that he's taken and would say that she "should stop or else you'll face the wrath of the tiger. rawr!" - gun's word.
she takes it as a joke and would brush it off, not aware of the pair of two eyes watching her from the sideline.
that behavior was nothing new bc as he said, he had seen those before they got together.
what he didn't see coming was how gutsy and thick-skinned she is.
*
uea was in bed playing on his phone while he waits for king to finish showering when king's phone vibrated. the name of the intern popping up.
uea never liked touching other people's phone bc it's a privacy, but king always insisted saying it was okay.
with that in mind and his curiousity rising, uea picked up the phone and opened the message.
his jaw dropped once he saw what's inside and quickly closed it.
"what the fuck."
he checked the message again to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.
he wasn't.
the screen displays a pic of her wearing red lingerie that barely covered her private areas with a message saying 'does this look good on me?'
looking at their previous convo, king never texted anything that would warrant such message from her.
if anything, it was always her that would send messages that has innuendos.
uea was about to reply when three more messages came up.
> omg p'king im sorry i didn't mean to send it to you >_<
> or maybe i do ;))
> since you've seen it already, what do you think? do you like it?
uea never understood how people get so possessive of something, but at that time, all he could feel was the adrenaline rushing from his body, telling him to make a claim and shut down anyone who dares to steal what is his.
but he chose to remain calm and rational, with a sprinkle of passive aggressiveness ofc
> i think it's inappropriate to text your senior at this hour. even more so to send him that type of message knowing he's already taken.
she quickly replied not even a minute later.
> this sounds like p'king's mysterious lover. so you do actually exist.
> i thought the ppl in the office are just saying those bc they want him for themselves. i've seen how they looked at him.
> especially that uea. i dont like him.
> he's all over p'king. i mean i dont blame him. i would too.
> too bad they don't have a chance.
uea couldn't believe how much audacity this woman have.
> and you think you do? may i remind you, king already have me. what makes you think he would rather have you?
uea can feel himself getting heat up so he took a deep breath before he couldnt stop himself from verbally hurting a woman.
> well see about that.
> yknow, ive been wanting to know you. what you look like, what's your personality. everyone keeps talking about you in the office and they seem to know you very well. could it be you're working in the same company?
> not that it matters ofc. im pretty sure im way better than you. it just sucks that we have to meet this way.
this bitch.
uea was about bring the intern back down from her high almighty chair when he felt king kiss his forehead.
"what's wrong, love? you look like you're about to murder someone." king teases, climbing on the bed with just boxers on.
"it's-" uea pauses, eyeing the scratch marks he left on king last night.
"it's nothing." he smiles, immediately clinging to his boyfriend and planting a kiss on his jaw.
an idea just popped in his mind. he smirks at the thought of how beautiful king would look like tomorrow after they enjoy tonight's love making.
king stares at him for second and the phone then back to him before flashing a knowing smile.
"alright then." king then captures his lover's lips into an intimate kiss.
uea returns the favor by lapping and nipping king's mouth, his hands immediately pulling king's hair, placing it on the right angle.
king hums as he slightly bite uea's mouth before soothing it with his tongue. uea figured what he was doing and quickly opened his mouth to let king in.
king immediately stucks his tongue in, meeting uea's own halfway, intimately and sloppily tasting each other. it was messy yet demanding. it was intense yet loving.
when the need for air became too strong, they pulled away and stared at each other with a playful and cunning look in their eyes. uea, specifically.
"can i mark you?" uea whispers, his nails running through king's hair softly.
"of course. i'm all yours."
and so he did.
*
uea and king was on the way to the elevator when the intern's voice sounded.
"p'king, good morning!" she greeted with a cheerful voice, her eyes full of affection. her gaze then shifted to uea and greeted him as well.
"good morning, p'uea." she said with a kind, friendly voice.
if he didn't know any better, he wouldn't notice the subtle quick change of expression she did. but since he learned that she doesn't like him, he caught it with his own eyes.
uea nodded and gave her a small smile, even if he wanted to pull her hair and drag her out of the company.
he shook his intrusive thoughts away and greeted her back.
"so p'king have you seen my message last night?" she asked, her full attention on king.
king did a subtle glance at uea as they walk towards the elevator before facing her. "what message?"
she was stunned for a second before huffing with a smirk. "nothing. it was an accident anyway."
uea rolled his eyes inwardly. he knows she knows that king's 'lover' deleted it before king has the chance to see it.
"are you sure?"
"hmm. it's nothing important."
they stepped into the elevator with the intern getting king into having a conversation with her. uea let them until he heard her asked king an interesting question.
"p'king, do you have a girlfriend?"
"girlfriend?" king chuckles. "no. no, i dont"
"i thought so!! ive never seen you bring anyone here." she faces up front with a small smirk.
she must've been thinking how her chance of getting together w king went up when king denied the existence of his 'girlfriend'.
she seems to feel that someone was staring at her and looked back. she smiles at uea and asked the same question.
uea heard king chuckle from his side.
"him with a girl? i couldn't even imagine that!" king couldn't stop himself and laughed loudly, as if he just heard the funniest joke on earth.
uea glares at him before stomping on his foot.
"ouch! that's not how you treat your /friend/ uea." king hopped dramatically.
"then stop teasing me. i-i could pull any girl i want to." uea stutters as he lies through his teeth.
king laughed even more, he ended up clutching his tummy.
"bab- uea stop joking seriously! i cant!" king smacked uea's arm so hard. he quickly realized what he did when uea glared at him while he covered his arm. he immediately side-hugged uea and rubbed his arms lovingly.
"im sorry. i meant to do that." king apologizes, still chuckling.
the intern, who was forgotten on the side, cleared her throat to get their attention.
"oh sorry. no. i don't have a girlfriend. i don't like girls."
"i see." she replied curtly, her expression turning sour at what just happened in front of her.
as they entered the department, gun, who was suprisingly early, greeted them energetically. he seemed to be in a good mood.
"good morni-" gun whistled as soon as he saw king. "wow, p'king. is that a hickey i see there? were you having fun last night?"
king chuckles when gun wiggled his eyebrows. "you could say that."
"jeez. someone's getting territorial." gun teased.
uea went straight to his desk with a small smile. he sure is territorial.
king is his and his alone.
"oh i didn't see you're here too. good morning!" gun greeted when he saw the intern.
she scoffed before turning aroung to sit on her desk.
"aw, rude."
*
"come on guys! drink more! we have a long weekend coming so lets go all out." sister faai's voice rang over the booming music at the bar.
they were having get together since it's been a while since they had one.
"we're just going to drink? we're gonna get wasted faster. we should do something else!" the intern complained with frown. her expression immediately light up when she thought of something.
she's either thinking of drinking game or have them go on the dance so she'll be able to dance with king.
"we should do truth or dare! if you cant tell the truth or do the dare, you have to drink! sounds fun right?" she suggested excitedly.
thought so.
"thats boring! we already know each other here!" faai pouted, gulping the shot of alcohol in their glass.
"sister faai! sister faai!" gun called their attention, leaning in and whispering something.
faai's face brightened up and they started giggling.
"actually yeah lets do it! it will be a good opportunity for us to learn more about our beloved intern here. and ofc vice versa!"
"thank you sister faai! i knew you got me." the intern cheered happily.
faai smiled, crunching their nose and taking a sip of their drink.
"okay. we go this way, so p'jade! you go first!" gun initiated.
"sure. okay gun, truth or dare."
"im feeling brave tonight so dare!"
"drink all of your remaining beer or remove your top and dance on the strip pole." if jade could just transform rn, he would have red horns and dark wings appearing from his body.
gun was dumfounded at his dare making everyone laugh. despite being energetic and cheerful, gun is a bit shy in showing his body.
"p'jade i hate you!" gun cried. "but i also dont wanna get that drunk tonight, i'll do it!"
everyone cheered when gun stood up and started tripping. faai, king, and jade, along with their other colleagues, cheered for him.
as everyone did their turn, answering truths and doing dares, it was finally king's turn.
being in a bar was always associated with his name. on top of that, he had always been an honest man. so it should be light and fun.
until the intern started to insist that she should be making king do the dare.
"can i please ask it? please? please? as your new programmer intern and junior? please?" she kept insisting.
it seemed like everyone got tired of her whining, so they gave it to her, her eyes immediately flashing an evil glint.
"p'king you said you dont have a girlfriend..." king hummed, rubbing uea's thighs under the table.
uea have a very bad feeling abt this.
"so i dare you to make out with me!"
everyone fell silent in shock, not knowing what to do or how to react.
"i dont think thats a good idea." uea broke the silence as he sets his glass down.
"so you can speak, p'uea." she said with a condescending tone.
"is there a problem?" uea asked calmly.
"not really. it's just you always glare at me. on top of that, i noticed how clingy you are whenever p'king's beside you. could it be that you like him?
"why does it matter?"
"you see i like p'king. i just feel disappointed that i have to compete with a man." she pouted. jade almost stood up from his spot aftet hearing that, but was quickly stopped thanks to faai.
uea chuckled, taking his glass of alcohol and drinking it.
"you're so funny." he said, staring at the liquid. "the thing is there was never a competition to begin with. you can have him for yourself."
uea heard king gasped from the side. he wants to laugh at his boyfriend's reaction, but he held his arm instead.
"aww. than-"
"but as i said, your dare is never a good idea. i suggest you change it."
the intern rolled her eyes, scoffing.
"ugh whatever." she chugged her drink, before standing up, making her way to king. "i didnt even ask for your opinion anyway."
"that's the thing." uea said in a low voice, standing, pulling up king with him. "dogs dont ask. they listen."
uea faced his boyfriend, tugging his collar, and pulling him into a kiss.
the mixture of whistles and cheers didnt go unnoticed, but what stood up to uea the most was the look on her face after he said those words.
satisfied with himself, uea smirked and wrapped his arms around king's neck and going full on making out with him.
hell with the other people. hell with their coworkers. hell with the intern.
uea doesnt care.
he is making a claim.
king is his.
and his alone.
- fin -
#bedfriendseries#อย่าเล่นกับอนลseries#netjames#เน็ตเจมส์#jamessu#netsiraphop#kinguea#thai bl#king x uea
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Unnatural
Pairing: Vampire Oikawa x Reader
Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Blood...a lot of blood
Summary: You don’t realize just how right you are about there being something different about Oikawa.
There’s something unnatural about Oikawa.
Your fellow managers and assistants for Argentina’s national volleyball team just giggle and tease you when you tipsily voice your concern one day. But you adamantly continue voicing your impromptu dissertation.
Isn’t it weird that he’s never tired? He never even seems to break a sweat!
They wave you off, awestrukenly raving about how hard he works and practices. Of course his endurance is above and beyond the norm.
Strike one.
Fine, but isn’t it a bit strange that he always insists on eating alone?
They shrug. You’re not entirely wrong. It is a little unusual, but lots of people don’t like others watching them when they eat. Besides, he’s Argentina’s new star player and every star has their quirks.
Strike two.
Your fuzzy brain is running out of definite points and you’re well past the number of shots your tolerance allows. Maybe that’s why you blurt out the latest observation that has all your fellow female coworkers shrieking and fawning over Oikawa Tooru.
He literally sparkles in the sun. How is that even humanly possible?!
Don’t be so dramatic. We know you don’t like to admit you’re just as head over heels for him as we are, but even you have to admit he’s eye-catching. No judgement here. After all, none of us can take our eyes off him either when they practice outside in the sun.
They playfully nudge you, grinning and letting you know it’s all in good humor. And you know you’ve officially struck out, all your concerns easily waved away as they order another round of shots and urge you to drink up.
Unknown to you, your doubts aren’t nearly as subtle as you think, although you can’t be blamed for not being aware of Oikawa’s heightened senses. He can feel your eyes intensely examining him, different than the vapid heart-eyes your other companions give him. He can hear you whisper to them about all the little ticks he’s surprised you’ve even noticed.
If he’s honest, he’ll admit you’ve got him off-guard, a feeling he hasn’t experienced in centuries. Was he getting sloppy with mixing in with humanity and hiding his true nature? Was he getting weaker? He tests his glamour just to reassure himself, satisfied by the loud squeals he hears from the rest of the female staff on the sidelines when he gives them a wink and a peace sign. But he pouts at your much less enthused figure.
Why doesn’t his glamour work on you- Oh. He hides a smile as he focuses in on the rabid beating of your heart. Interesting. It does work on you, you’re just a little more resistant about your desires than most.
Mystery solved. You’re not the first hard-headed woman who’s tried to defy the intoxicating nature of his glamour, of his being. And he pays you no more mind. Someone as straight laced as you would never come to the ridiculous conclusion that he’s a vampire.
Except as fate would have it, it’s not you he needs to be worried about. It’s himself that he should be more cautious of.
He can see it all happen in slow motion, knows that his teammate isn’t jumping at the correct angle, knows that the ball is going to go flying errantly. And all he can do is watch in sickening fascination as the volleyball goes hurtling directly at your face. The force of the object crushing your nose echoes in his sensitive ears and he winces in sympathy only to freeze as the most alluring smell begins to overwhelm the gym.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
He’s not a rookie changeling or a newly turned vampire who has no control of his urges. He’s fucking royalty, a pureblood, ancient and well versed even by the high standards of his species. And you are hardly the first human whose blood he’s been around.
Yet it feels like he’s experiencing his first century all over again and it takes every bit of self control he has left not to let chocolate orbs bleed crimson, to let his fangs extend, to drink you dry right there and then. You smell absolutely divine and he humorlessly chuckles at the irony of the predicament he’s in now after his arrogance has led him to criticize so many of his peers over the centuries who’ve given into their base desires and instincts.
Maybe he does owe little Tobio an apology…
But that’s neither here nor now and he focuses on the crowd forming around your fallen figure.
“I’ll take her to the nurse.”
He fights the urge to roll his eyes when his panicked teammate who had caused your injury insists on being the one to take you, guilt evident in the slump of his shoulders. And instead he smiles in an award-worthy act as he adds a bit of glamour to his voice.
“It’s not your fault. Accidents happen in sports. I’ll take her and you just focus on getting your head back in practice. You can apologize as much as you want when she’s all healed up.”
Oikawa always gets his way and he smugly grins as he easily hauls you to the nurse’s office where all it takes is another few glamoured words to have the room emptied and at his disposal. And then it’s just you and him and he hungrily eyes the way blood trails from your nose, down the side of your face, until crimson begins to stain the once white bed sheets.
“Oikawa?”
Oh poor thing. Your voice is nasally, tone confused as you blearily try to understand what’s happening and where you are through the pain. All the better to glamour you with and he coaxes you into laying back down and relaxing, telling you that he’s just there to help you.
You barely register the swipe of something across your face and you assume Oikawa is wiping off the blood. And in a way you’re right. Except instead of a wipe, it’s his tongue languidly licking you clean.
You taste even better than you smell and he can’t hold himself back. He had only wanted a little taste, but there’s no turning back now. Your whimpers of confusion as cold fingers swiftly undress you are quickly shushed and then all you know is a blinding piercing pain followed by an ecstasy you never thought was possible.
All he had wanted was a meal, but you’re insistent on giving him a show as well and who is he to deny your gracious gift? He groans as the scent of your arousal intermingles with the heady tang of your blood, fangs sinking in slightly deeper than he had intended as he unconsciously ruts against your hapless body. With a gasp he lifts himself from your neck, practically growling in impatience and lust as he shoves his shorts and boxers down until his throbbing cock is freed.
He cruelly laughs at how you writhe and moan beneath him, pitifully begging for more, more, more. Pathetic little human. You don’t even know what you’re asking for and his cock twitches at how cute you’d look, terrified at the realization of what he is, what he had done to you, and how you had liked it, loved it even. He’s almost tempted to pull you out of your forced haze now, wondering if your horrified screams would be even more melodic than your wanton moans. But there’s no time for that now and he wants his first time to be uninterrupted, even as adorable as you are when you fight back.
With all your walls forced to come crashing down, you really are an insatiable creature and he darkly grins at how much of a slut you truly are, practically gushing and cumming with every bite. He sinks his fangs into the swells of your breasts, smirking at how your own hands come to roll and twist your nipples, a silly smile spreading across your face. He travels down, moaning as he sees how much slick you’ve accumulated between your legs, piercing your inner thigh and forcing your thrusting hips to stay still as he feasts on you, mixing the blood with your sticky nectar.
You’re so close to another high and he can practically taste the way your heart is skyrocketing, feel the way your body is tightening. He’ll be damned if he misses his opportunity to be intertwined with you as you break apart once again and he rapidly adjusts himself, once again roughly sinking his fangs into the crook of your neck as he slams balls deep inside of you in one thrust.
The dual sensation is more than enough to have you tumbling over the edge and your scream echoes as your vision turns black and white as your eyes roll into the back of your head. But unlike the previous times where Oikawa had shown mercy and given you at least some time to recover from your climaxes by slowing down his ministrations and licking your open wounds close, this time he only becomes rougher as your orgasm crashes around you.
His hips thrust in and out of you at an inhuman pace. He’s drinking so much from you that you can feel the beginning of lightheadedness from the blood loss. You’re literally dying, but all you can do is take it and moan, lost in the pleasure, lost in the haze he’s enveloped you in. And just when you think this is the end, that your life is over, you whimper, clutching the rumpled linens tight as he slams one last time inside of you and fills you full of sticky seed.
You’re a sight for sore eyes, looking absolutely fucked silly and blissed out despite the borderline grotesque rivulets of blood staining almost every inch of you. It’s like you were made to be a blood pet and despite having just had his way with you, he can feel lust stirring inside of him once again at the thought of you collared and bound to his throne, his bed, your only purpose to sustain him with the lifeforce running through your veins.
But all in due time and he calls the nurse back to attend to you once all hints of foul play are gone before walking back to practice, a thoughtful smile on his lips as he begins to plan, already thinking of what else he has in store for you and eager for another taste of you.
Didn’t you recently say you were living alone?
#yandere oikawa#yandere haikyuu#haikyuu smut#oikawa smut#oikawa x reader#tw: yandere#tw: dubcon#tw: noncon
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Broken Paradise | Spencer Reid
M A S T E R L I S T
Criminal Minds Masterlist
smut
requests info
wc | 9.1k
summary | you run into an ex boyfriend during an interrogation. except it's you being interrogated, and it's your ex boyfriend doing the interrogating.
song
another draft just waiting to be published. really obsessing over Spencer Reid.
also there's mentions of abortion, nothing graphic it's literally just a short direct reference and nothing else.
You always hear people say your past will come back to haunt you, you just didn't know they meant literally. You leaned back against the metal chair in the interrogation room, you've been in here for what felt like hours. You couldn't complain too much seeing as it's your fault that you're in here at all. You wished they'd come in and tell you something, give you an update, say hi, say anything. You seriously underestimated how maddening silence can be. You knew little about the murders the police were investigating, something about druggie women being found mutilated. The pictures they showed you were downright horrifying, you'd need at least one solid bottle of tequila to forget the bodies of those poor women.
The Las Vegas Police Department were a bunch of judgmental pigs, the only reason they'd brought you here at all was because you were from the wrong side of the tracks. Both of your parents were users, and if you were lucky, also dead. They probably assumed you used as well, and seeing as you seemed to fit the killers physical preference the police brought you in for questioning and also for your own "safety". But really you knew they didn't give a damn about your safety, they just wanted to know where you got your shit from. No matter how many times you insisted you didn't use, they kept pushing. When one male officer started throwing your parents in your face, you stood up and promptly broke his nose. That's how you landed yourself cuffed to the table, tightly.
"Oh thank you so much for gracing me with your presence once more." You smiled sarcastically as another officer walked in, wait he's definitely not an officer. The man who entered the room had cleanly cut dark hair, and wore an expensive looking black suit. Not the run of the mill beat cop that you were expecting. You bit back any other fiery remarks, if you wanted to get the hell out of here you needed to cooperate. Diana would be expecting you, not that you were itching to see her but after letter number 75 of her begging you to swing by- well lets just say that Spencer's mother was never the problem. You doubt Spencer even knew Diana was contacting you, which was good. You wanted nothing at all to do with him.
"I'm Agent Hotchner here with the FBI I need to ask you a few questions." This man was all business, you seriously had to fight the urge to fuck with him a little bit.
"I'd shake your hand but..." Your eyes flickered towards the table, where the police officer who's nose you broke had very tightly handcuffed you. In fact he cuffed you so tightly that your wrists were already raw and bleeding a bit.
"They wouldn't have handcuffed you if you didn't punch an officer. Did he hit a nerve?" The Agent's face was level, and gave nothing away as to what he was thinking. You tongued the inside of your cheek, your foot tapping quickly on the concrete floor. These assholes were really starting to piss you off.
"He was being a dick, how many times do I have to tell you guys that I don't use? Are your heads filled with sawdust?" You snapped roughly, yanking away from him to lean back in your chair despite the biting pain in your wrists.
"That's not why I'm here Miss Y/L/N." Agent Hotchner said, his voice even and his eyes on you. The way he was looking at you made you feel exposed, like he could read all of your secrets because of the way your eye twitches when you're nervous. You hate these damn FBI profilers- wait.
"How's Spencer?" It's a shot in the dark, a very long shot in a very dark tunnel. Before the scumbag left you without warning, Spencer mentioned that someone was trying to recruit him for the BAU department of the FBI. The profilers. Spencer left and never came back, two guesses as to where he went. Your eyes locked onto the Agent's in front of you, and from the slight upturn at the corner of his brow you knew you got him. Spencer is here.
"You know Dr. Reid?"
"So he's a Doctor now, doesn't surprise me. Let me guess, he has PHD's and Doctorates in Math, Chemistry and something to do with Geography right?" You say as casually as you can and you can only hope this man is wondering how you happen to know so much about one of his Agents.
"Unless I'm speaking to Spencer Reid, I want my lawyer." You snap, leaning back. You know Spencer won't talk to you, and unless they have physical proof you're guilty of something they'll have to let you go.
Check mate.
//
Spencer couldn't ignore the questioning glances from his fellow teammates even if he'd wanted to. He watched you lean back in your chair from the other side of the one way glass, what are the chances that you are wrapped up in this case? You of all young petite blonde women in the metro area. The world was fucking with him, it had to be.
"She a friend of yours?" Derek's voice was the first to cut through the silence.
"No." One word answers were the safest route, the shortest diction would give little time for them to draw information out of the way Spencer was speaking. There was a tremble in his tone, he knew there was. Spencer prided himself for having little to no baggage behind him, but of all unopened suitcases- his previous relationship with you was the largest one.
"Really? Cause she seems to know a lot about you." Derek said, his eyes fixed on Spencer. The tension in the room was palpable, and suddenly it felt hard for Spencer to breathe let alone compose himself. After shoving free from the small viewing room, Spencer found it a lot easier to exist without the scrutinizing gazes of his coworkers.
"You hear her?" It was Hotch, with a patiently guarded expression on his face. Spencer and drugs wasn't an uncommon problem, although in the past his poison of choice was dilaudid. Now there's a string of drug related murders and a possible junky who seems to know a lot about him.
"Yeah, from before the Bureau." Spencer clarified quickly, and Hotch honestly looked the tiniest bit relieved.
"Think you could talk to her, she's made it obvious she won't talk to any of us." Hotch said, and from the tension building in Spencer's shoulders he can tell there's some bad blood between the two of you. Spencer took a deep breath before taking all of those unresolved emotions and forcefully shoving them down. Deep, deep down. It's time to do a job, there's a missing woman who needs to be saved.
//
When that door opened again, you thought you'd won. You thought they were coming to begrudgingly release you. Instead you were met by the big doey eyes of Spencer Reid, your first and last love. All the air was stolen from your lungs in an instant, the memories flood back and you can't stop them. The anger rises then, this is the first time you've seen him since he left you. The one person you trusted not to leave you did, he left like everyone leaves you. Like your parents left you. He's very clearly all business, his face hardly giving anything away as he swiftly reached down to unlock the handcuffs around your wrists. If you wanted to walk away from this without your heart getting broken you needed the upper hand.
"Heya baby." You smiled, you hoped that maybe it would disarm him. At least a little, but when you looked at him all you saw was a stoic and focused expression. Nothing? Really?
"I need to ask you a few questions Miss Y/L/N." Spencer's voice was controlled, even in tone. His voice... God his voice could bring you right to tears. You could still hear him saying how much he loved you with that stupidly angelic voice of his. Spencer was very quickly taking control of the situation and you did not like that at all.
"You know you can ask me anything, there's no secrets between us right Spence?" You leaned forward on your elbows, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing in your wrists. One of Spencer's biggest giveaways is eye contact, when he's upset or feels guilty he'll avoid looking into your eyes. You turn your gaze up to meet his, but once again you're completely disarmed to see him unabashedly looking into your eyes like it isn't a problem at all. Either Spencer has amnesia and forgot who you were, or what happened between you two doesn't hurt him like it hurts you. You refuse to believe it's the latter, he just forgot. Definitely forgot. Somehow he must have forgot.
"Nina Fredricks, have you ever seen her?" He slid a photo in front of you, you recognize her as the woman who was most recently kidnapped. Most recently being 12 hours ago so chances of her still being alive are unfortunately slim. You nibble on your lower lip, come to think of it you actually might have seen her.
"Yeah, saw her at Winchell's, little coffee shop on the corner of 5th? You remember right Spence? You used take me there all the time, I loved giving you head under the table." You smirk, but it quickly falters. Whatever training he went through must have stripped him of all emotion and turned him into a machine. Built only to solve cases and do nothing else. That wasn't the case however, you just didn't know how good Spencer is at compartmentalizing his emotions. He could only imagine the looks on his coworkers faces upon hearing you say that, at least he can just say you were lying to try and illicit some sort of reaction from him. They don't have to know that you totally used to slip under the table and swallow his cock in a diner full of people. They don't know about that side of him, and Spencer doesn't plan on changing that.
"When?" He presses on with the interview, and surprisingly you're forthcoming with information when you're speaking to Spencer. Even after all this time, he has this annoying power over you. This innate ability to get you to do whatever he wants you to, although you would prefer him to use this special ability in the bedroom. No! No you have to eradicate thoughts like that, Spencer hurt you worse then anyone else ever has. He hurt you worse because he made you think he was going to stay, and then he didn't.
"Few nights ago, she looked really messed up though. Winchell threw her out, definitely doped up on something. Before you ask, no I didn't see where she went." You sigh, finally giving up flashing Spencer the all too familiar 'you win' look. Usually a victorious grin stretches across his face, but not this time. Those times are over.
"Did you see anybody with her?" You're not entirely surprised that Spencer isn't writing any of this down, that stupid eidetic memory. You're fooling yourself if you think he forgot what happened, Spencer never forgets anything. Ever.
"Every detail matters."
You genuinely try to remember if anybody was with Nina, and while you didn't see anyone you remember shortly after she left the diner there was this horrible screeching sound. "After Nina left I heard what sounded like tires screeching on the street. Never saw a car though."
"Thank you Miss Y/L/N, is there anything else you can remember about that night? Anything that sticks out?" After a few moments of quiet contemplation, you shake your head.
"Am I free to go?" You ask quietly and Spencer shakes his head.
"Unfortunately we're going to have to keep you in protective custody. We'll move you to a more comfortable room, but you'll need to stay in the precinct."
"But why? I'm not a drug addict-"
"You are exactly this killers type, and we don't know if looking a certain way is more important or if being a drug addict is when it comes to him choosing his victims." Spencer explains simply, his mouth moving a mile a minute as he stands. When he turns his eyes back on you, you realize he's waiting for you to follow him. You stand and follow him out of the cold interrogation room to a comfier waiting room. It has a table and chairs, vending machine and a big plush couch.
"You can stay in here, we'll let you know when it's safe to go home." Spencer says, and this is when you finally catch the crack in his façade. His eyes flicker away from yours, trying to disguise the waver in his voice, the desperation to vacate the room as quickly as he can. But now that you've seen him break, even a little, you're going to crack him wide open. You won't let it go that easily.
"Spencer?" Your voice is soft, with an innocent drawl that Spencer can't resist. He turns his head to look at you, swallowing thickly when his eyes meet yours.
"You do remember me don't you? Once upon a time we were in love." You see the rest of his coworkers trying and failing to look like they're not listening. But it's not like you care if they do, Spencer will though but luckily his back is to the door. After a few moments of tense silence, he finally speaks.
"Of course." It's not the answer you were hoping for but it's an admission, which is more then you were getting earlier.
"Do you miss me Spencer? Miss me in bed next to you?"
"W-Well I-"
"Do you miss when I used to cook your favorite dinner every night when you came over? Do you miss how I loved you unconditionally?" Your voice was steadily growing more hostile, and you knew there were tears building in your eyes. This has all been building up for so long you know you can't stop it now.
"Y/N-"
"Do you miss being able to fuck me whenever the hell you want? Is that what you miss the most Spencer? You must not miss me that much because when you left I didn't even get a fucking call! You didn't even say goodbye, you just left!" You were yelling now, with tears streaming down your face. Spencer had slyly shut the door by now, he knew this was going to happen the second he saw you. He wished he could help you understand why he had to leave the way he did. He was trying to protect you, and he still firmly believes he's protecting you. Look what happened to Haley, what happened to Maeve. Spencer loved Maeve and he lost her like Hotch lost Haley, and Spencer can't lose you. Not you. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to you.
"Please try to understand-" You never even let him get close to finishing his thought.
"Understand what? Leaving me? You said you loved me! How could you love me and then leave me alone? While I was pregnant!" Your hands flew to your mouth, you honestly never planned on telling him that. Spencer's eyebrows rose high in the air, and you can tell you just knocked the wind out of him. Spencer's hand reached back for the door handle, "pregnant?"
"Spencer I'm sorry I didn't mean to tell you that way." You tried to explain, and despite the fact that he'd abandoned you, you were dead terrified of him leaving again now that he was stood in front of you.
"Do I have a child you never told me about?" His voice is shaky, afraid. Now you can see all his coworkers heavily invested in your conversation.
"N-No, I...I got rid of it." You said softly, watching the mix of emotions swirl across his face. When his trembling palm curls around the door handle you launch forward to grab at his arm.
"I'm sorry, please don't leave. Not again-" But he's pulling his arm free from yours and turning out of the room, nearly slamming the door behind him.
//
Spencer ignored the questions, he ignored the looks. His legs gave out somewhere near one of the couches. He stared ahead numbly, trying to make sense of what you'd just told him. Trying to somehow wrap his head around the terror of you being pregnant and then the grief of the lost possibility all at the same time. By now, JJ and Rossi had shooed everyone away from Spencer. Which he was immensely grateful for, the only thing he wanted now was to be alone. Completely and entirely alone.
Pregnant.
The word kept replaying like a scratched record, screeching in his ears every time he closed his eyes. Spencer pressed the balls of his palms into his eyes when he heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching him. Whoever it was, he already wished they would go away.
"Damn Kid, I didn't expect you to date such a spitfire." Derek joked as he sat down, doing what he can to ease the tension. Spencer didn't even bother looking up at him, his head stubbornly lowered and his gaze locked on the ground. Derek racked his brain for something adequate to say, but what was there to say? How could Derek find a way to make this right? Spencer just found out you were pregnant with his child and that you'd got an abortion all in the same 10 seconds. It was a lot to process.
"You gotta talk to her Spence." Derek's voice was less humorous this time. Spencer wrung his hands nervously, his eyes finally lifting to meet Derek's. A sharp shake of his head and a flash of the tears in his eyes and Spencer stands, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. Time to get back to work. Someone has to talk to you, Derek can't stand of someone crying by themselves like that.
"It's not really my place-" JJ tried to argue as Derek stood in front of her.
"Someone needs to talk to her, and Spencer isn't going to." Derek said, rubbing a hand down his face as his eyes flickered back to Spencer. Who was currently throwing himself headfirst into the geographic profile of the killer they're looking for, because maybe if he works hard enough the rest of the entire world will just disappear. Maybe if Spencer keeps working and does nothing else you'll just vanish from that room and he won't have to deal with this. It's not that Spencer wants you to go away, the opposite actually but there isn't room in his life for you anymore. It's not safe. Spencer would rather be alone for the rest of his life then put you in danger because he's lonely and misses you.
"Alright, fine. But only for Spence." JJ says, jabbing a finger in Derek's direction before reluctantly heading towards the room you're in. She glances back at Spencer, who has become consumed by the map in front of him. JJ can always tell when something is bothering him, he has physical giveaways. The way his shoulders are rigid as he scribbles something on the whiteboard, the furrow in his brow that lets her know that while he's working on something, his mind is elsewhere. The tremble in his palm from trying so hard to hold everything back, everything he doesn't want anyone else to see. To someone that doesn't know Spencer, he looks perfectly composed, his attention and focus completely on his work. JJ knows him well enough to know that his mind, and heart are sitting tattered in this waiting room on the couch next to you.
JJ creaks the door open, flashing you a smile that makes you absolutely hate her guts. Spencer probably has some puppy love crush on her, she's beautiful. Long blonde hair, slender body, stunning smile. Everything you're not.
"Hi I'm Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ." The way she's looking at you lets you know that she came in here to try and understand. You're not in the mood to talk to her or anybody else in this stupid building except for Spencer. You want to hate him so bad but you can't. You can't because of how much you fucking love him. The bastard.
"Look I know you're probably not all that excited to talk to me-"
"I want Spencer." You snap, and by the look on her face you can tell she isn't surprised that you said that. JJ chewed on the inside of her cheek, how does she say that Spencer doesn't actually want to talk to you?
"Dr. Reid is needed elsewhere right now, but I'm willing to talk if you need to."
"You don't have to lie Agent Jareau. I know he doesn't want to see me, he's doing that thing where he pretends to work on something while secretly obsessing over something else." You say casually, and the fact that you can pick Spencer apart so easily is somewhat off-putting to JJ. But that could be her unrequited crush on him shining through, deep down JJ doesn't like that some other woman knows Spencer better then she does. While you'd love to sit here and wallow in your misery, a much worse idea strikes you then. If you can't talk to Spencer why not fuck with the woman who's clearly in love with him.
"And the little twitch in his fingers, the slight clench in his jaw. See that? He keeps rolling his shoulders back," while everything you were saying isn't a lie- it's guaranteed to annoy her. JJ stayed quiet, she hated that she didn't know what the goddamn twitch in his fingers meant.
"He's tense, but there's more. He can't stand still, keeps shifting from foot to foot. It's driving you crazy that you don't know why he's doing that." You laugh as her annoyed eyes flash to yours for a second before settling on Spencer again.
"You're a profiler, you can't figure it out? That doesn't surprise me, you've probably never considered the fact that Spencer has an unusually high sex drive." Your words completely stun her, and JJ's cheeks flush profusely.
"It means he's horny." You say casually, leaning back against the couch. You love the blush on her cheeks, and the fact that she's clearly biting her tongue to avoid saying something rude. You love that you got under her skin, and yes you're aware that you're a bad person. Now that you've said it, JJ can't get it out of her damn head. Spencer is horny. Spencer isn't a virgin. The thought of Spencer having sex makes JJ feel a sick turning in her gut. She was happy believing Spencer was a virgin, believing that nobody has gotten to experience that side of him yet. Happy to believe that he was untouched, but apparently that was not the case. Now that the illusion has been shattered, JJ feels as though the jagged pieces of it are cutting into her, and she knows you enjoy watching her bleed.
"Trust me, I know just what to do to relieve the tension, I know how to get him off quick. Do you?" You smile as you let your eyes shamelessly drag down his slender frame.
"You're only saying this because you want to control the conversation, and you hate that I see him everyday. That I can talk to him whenever I want, about whatever I want. You wouldn't lash out if you didn't feel intimidated." JJ says calmly, rendering you just as speechless as she was moments ago. The pain that was sent stabbing into your heart caused you to recoil back from JJ, trying to hide your misty eyes from hers. You can't let her know that she's winning.
"Look, we can both get nasty all we want but that's not why I'm here. I just want to help." JJ says sincerely, but you still don't budge. JJ taps her fingers against the wood of the table, thinking about leverage she can use to get you to talk to her.
"Spencer fell in love again." JJ says finally, and this time you turn your gaze up to look at her. You push your emotions down, no matter how much it hurts to hear her say that. Who is she? Are they still together?
"If you want to know more about her, then I suggest you talk to me. An answer for an answer, fair?" You can see her trying to bait you, and damn her because it's working.
"Fine." You grumble, leaning back fully against the couch. Your eyes catch Spencer's for a second when he turns to face the table, presumably looking for a map you remember being on the right side. You point to the right side of the table and Spencer looks nothing but annoyed when he follows your direction and finds what he's looking for. He hates that he functions better as a person when you're around.
"What's the deal with you and Spence?" JJ asks, and there is a lot to unpack with that question.
"Gonna have to be more specific." You say with a shrug, your eyes hesitantly meeting hers.
"How long were you two together?"
"2 years 8 months." You answer without pausing, causing her eyebrows to raise. JJ didn't expect you to remember down to the month, it's been years since you and Spencer were together. That's not a short fling like JJ originally thought, that's a substantial amount of time.
"What's her name?" You ask, desperate to get information on this mystery woman who has stolen Spencer from you.
"Her name was Maeve." Was. You don't miss how she says was instead of is.
"Why do you hate Spencer?" JJ looked like she cared, but you know it's not you she cares about. She's in here to try and protect Spencer in some way, she's acting like you're the villain.
"I don't hate him. He abandoned me. Just packed up and left, no note, no goodbye. Haven't heard from him since." You snap, hating the amount of emotion that was in your voice. JJ's eyebrows furrow, that's just so unlike Spencer. He's not cruel, he's never been cruel but that...is cruel. You see a look flash across her face.
"Sweet boy isn't as sweet as he seems." You say softly, folding your arms over your chest.
"He must have had a good reason." JJ insists, her eyes landing on Spencer's back as he continues to map out the hunting grounds of the killer. You know he's just wasting time to avoid coming back in here. Spencer is a certifiable super genius, he finished mapping it out a while ago. He's just pretending he hasn't finished yet.
"Spence still with her? Maeve." Her name felt like poison on your tongue, and JJ slowly shook her head.
"She died in front of him, really tore him up." Your heart cracks a little bit at her words, you can't imagine how hard that must have been for him. You see JJ open her mouth to ask something else when the door opens, and a man with darker skin pokes his head in.
"JJ? Reid found him, we gotta go." As soon as he arrived, he's gone with JJ hot on his heels. She sends you a smile before she rushes out of the room, and you see Spencer following her path out. They're going to arrest a murderer who has an arsenal of weapons at his disposal.
"Spencer! Y-You can't go, it's not safe!" You blurt from the doorway, and he pauses. His eyes find yours as he holsters his pistol, an unreadable expression on his face.
"It's my job." And that's all he says before he disappears out of the precinct, leaving you once again.
//
You couldn't quell the anxiety turning in your gut, you're not sure how to exist while Spencer is out there hunting a murderer. You wished that you could turn off the part of your brain that's still so damn attached to him, but no matter how hard you try you can't silence your heart as it calls for him. You're not sure you could survive the constant fear of losing him if you ever ended up with him again, this life is too much for you to take. Maybe he knew that all those years ago when he left you the first time, Spencer always could see right through you. Maybe he left because he knew staying would only lead you to live a life of constant fear, maybe he was trying to protect you. Either way the reasons don't matter anymore because he left, and nothing can change how badly that hurt you.
"Does it normally take this long?" You ask a passing officer, who in turn shrugs before continuing on his path. You feel like you're going to explode or vomit, or both. It's been over 2 hours, should it be taking this long? What if he got shot? What if he's dead right now and you're sitting here with your damn thumb up your ass worrying about him like a useless housewife? Feeling useless, that's what you hate the absolute most. Knowing there's nothing you can do to stop a bullet on it's trajectory to his heart.
"Spence, are you sure you're okay?" You hear a flurry of voices and when his name graces JJ's lips you're pushing out of the room. Your eyes find him instantly, and then travel to his palm which is pressed tightly to his neck. His bleeding neck. You feel your heart rate spike, hammering like the hooves of wild horses as you move without thinking about it. Before you even understand that you've moved, you're stood in front of him. Your eyes try to scan his neck for wounds but his palm covers the location the blood is coming from.
"C'mere." You grab his wrist and yank him back towards where you saw a first aid kit earlier. Luckily your 2 and a half years of nursing school taught you how to stitch a wound and perform basic first aid. Spencer offers no resistance as you yank him to a back corner of the precinct, pushing him to sit down. You grab the first aid kit, slowly prying his hand from his neck. Your eyes mist at the wound, it's a bullet wound. Looks old though, there's scarred tissue. This had to have happened a few weeks ago at least. You see the thin line of the scar, the middle section seems to have opened up again.
"You didn't wait long enough for this to heal." You scold gently, not missing how his eyes watch you with an intensity smoldering in them. You miss the way he used to look at you, the way he's looking at you right now. You miss being the center of his whole world, you scoff. Look how easy it was for him to walk away from you. You threat a needle to stitch the center of his wound shut again, and when you look for numbing cream you discover that there isn't any.
"Spence, there isn't any- I can't find the numbing..." Your voice trails off as you begin to yank things out of the first aid kit to search for the numbing cream. Spencer's hand catches your wrist and it's only just now that you realize you're trembling.
"It's okay. I'll be fine." He settles back against the chair he's sitting in, turning his head to reveal his neck to you. You hesitate, the Spencer you remember had a very low pain threshold. All of a sudden he's expecting you to stitch him up with no numbing agent?
"Y/N, I can handle it." Spencer says again, his voice firmer than before. You swallow a lump in your throat before reaching forward to begin stitching. You press the needle against his neck, eyeing him to gauge his reaction as you puncture his skin to make the first thread. To your surprise he hardly flinches, a small quirk in his lip is the only giveaway that he's in pain. Is this the same man that got squirmy getting a shot? That would shy away from the needle? Now he's sitting here letting you stitch him up without moving a muscle, without even flinching? The more time you spend with him the more proof you get that this isn't the same Spencer that left you all those years ago.
"How did it happen?" You ask, wondering how he could have survived a gunshot to the neck. He shifts uncomfortably.
"Got shot, two inches away from hitting my jugular." Spencer says it so casually, but you're so stunned that you halt your movements for a moment.
"How many times have you been shot?" You ask, your voice hoarse. Is him getting shot a common occurrence?
"Twice. Also got shot in the leg." The casual way Spencer talks about it almost convinces you it isn't a big deal. But it is. It's a bullet ripping through his body, and it's happened to him on two separate occasions. You finish stitching and bandaging him up, your hands moving away from him as soon as you can.
"Thank God you went to nursing school or I'd be six feet under." He jokes. You know he's kidding but still, the thought of it makes you feel lightheaded.
"Don't say stuff like that." You snap softly, and you know Spencer can see the fear and vulnerability in your eyes. You hesitantly steal a glance up at him once he's stood up only to find he's already looking at you. You shy away from his intrusive gaze, and you could practically feel him probing at your mind. Reading your thoughts as if they were written down for him. You hate that he can always tell what you're thinking, you hate that it was so easy for him to read you. Like a damn book. You have to fight the urge to reach out and grab his hand, it's what you always did when you felt lost or unsure. Spencer was always there to ground you and bring your mind back out of your thoughts.
"Miss Y/L/N?" You hear JJ's voice gently interrupt you two. You shoot away from Spencer as though you were doing something scandalous. He doesn't move an inch.
"Yes!" You blurt a little too loudly, suddenly flustered being so close to him. Why does your sharp tongue always leave you when you need it?
"You're clear to go home."
"I can take her." Spencer speaks up before JJ has a chance to offer, and she knew he would. You swallow a nervous lump in your throat, your palms shaking.
//
The SUV has dark tint, you weren't expecting that. The second you sat back in the plush leather seat your mind flew to lewd thoughts of you leaning over the center console, Spencer's hand in your hair as he helps you take his cock in your mouth. You steal one glance at Spencer, his right hand holding the steering wheel loosely. Your cheeks heat up as you glance down between his legs, get ahold of yourself.
"The address is-"
"I remember." You knew he would. That damn eidetic memory ensured that he never forgot anything. It broke your heart a little, because some naïve part of you was hoping he remembered because it meant something to him. You hoped he remembered the way to your house because he didn't want to forget, because forgetting it meant forgetting you. But you know the reality, you know that he remembers because he has no choice but to remember. His memory is too good to allow him to forget anything, even if it was something he wanted to forget. You're grasping at straws and you know you are, holding onto that foolish notion that Spencer still held onto the memories. That he still held onto the gifts you gave him, crying softly in the night like you did sometimes.
"JJ told me about Maeve." You say softly into the silence, and you saw Spencer swallow thickly out of the corner of your eye. "I'm so sorry you lost her Spence."
"Thank you." He honestly wasn't expecting you to say that, to acknowledge the pain. Because acknowledging the pain meant that you knew he loved her. He did love her. But it was a different love then the love he feels for you. It was special, but so are you. You're special too.
"Have you...dated anyone else?" Spencer can't help but ask as he subconsciously continues the drive to your house. A drive he's committed to his memory, a drive he never wants to forget. You shift to look at him, there were a few you dated. You know when you tell Spencer about them that it'll drive him crazy.
"Tony Anderson." You say and just like you thought, Spencer groans deeply. Spencer detests Tony, they were practically mortal enemies when he still lived in Las Vegas.
"Tony? Seriously?" His tone is incredulous as his grasp on the steering wheel tightens ever so slightly.
"He was a good fuck at least." You know you shouldn't wind him up, but he hurt you for Christ's sakes. He deserves a little bit of pain too. Spencer flinches, a look of anger and something else simmering in his eyes.
"Please tell me you didn't have sex with Tony."
"Why does it matter?" You shouldn't enjoy upsetting people as much as you do. But there's still a small part of you that's convinced that Spencer deserves this.
"Because I can't live with the fact that somebody else has gotten to feel that perfect cunt of yours, let alone Tony." His crude words take you by surprise, and you can't fight the gasp that escapes your mouth.
"Well before you start digging your grave, relax. I never had sex with Tony." You decide to put him out of his misery, and you see the relief physically flood his body. You lean against the window, the next admission from you will leave the air heavier in it's wake.
"I've never slept with anyone but you Spence." You realize it's been a long time since you've seen Spencer let alone had sex with him but you could never bring yourself to sleep with someone else. It's not as though the opportunity never presented itself, you had plenty of chances to have sex with someone else. But you couldn't because there's still a stubborn part of you that doesn't want to betray Spencer.
"Really? Why?" Apparently this revelation surprised him.
"Because no matter where you go I will always belong to you." You snap without thinking, blinking tears from your eyes as you avoid his gaze. Spencer fell silent then, and you know he feels guilty. Probably because he's slept with someone else in the time since he's been with you.
"I know you have and it's fine I'm not trying to-"
"I haven't." Spencer corrects instantly, his eyes meeting yours through the darkness of the SUV. If he could see you he would see the look of utter surprise on your face. It's not as though Spencer was an overly sexually ambitious person when you dated, but you figured he probably slept with at least one person. "I haven't slept with anybody else either."
"I know someone that wants to though." You grumble without thinking, your mind drifting to JJ and the obvious crush she thinks isn't obvious. Spencer tilts his head in a way that resembles a confused puppy, you resist the urge to ruffle his hair.
"Who?"
"Agent Jareau." As soon as the name slips past the threshold of your lips, Spencer's jerks the wheel in surprise. You see a dark blush color his cheeks as his other hand reaches up to steady the wheel.
"J-Jennifer? No way! She's my best friend." You nearly laugh at his flustered state, and normally you would push it a little further but you decide to let it go. You don't want to completely destroy the way he sees her, you know you already destroyed the way she sees him.
"You have no idea what a catch you are Spencer." You tell him as you unbuckle your seatbelt, getting ready to exit the SUV. Spencer reaches over and places a warm hand on your wrist to stop you from leaving, his eyes searching yours for an answer he isn't sure you have.
"Come in?" You ask hopefully, you're not ready for him to leave again. Damnit why did he have to turn up again after so long? You were just starting to think that maybe you could move on and find someone new. You were finally starting to feel okay, and then Spencer reappears and turns your entire world upsidown all over again. Deep down you know that nobody will ever compare to Spencer Reid, and you don't want them to. You don't want anyone to be like Spencer, you want him to be his entirely own person. It's what you love the most about him, is his ability to be himself no matter where he is or who he's with. All of his little quirks, the things about himself that he doesn't notice but you do.
"Yeah." His answer comes across as an exhalation of breath, and you try to hide how excited you are. You want to hold on to any moment you can, stolen moments that you take as you please with no regret whatsoever.
"Nothing has changed." Spencer muses once you unlock the front door and push inside the darkened living room. You blush, admittedly nothing about your small townhouse has changed. It's all basically the exact same as when Spencer saw it last. You rub a hand down your arm as Spencer's eyes go wandering. Trailing over the curtains he remembers hastily pulling closed to protect your decency on more than a few occasions. His gaze then travels to the couch, all those movie nights you two spent curled up together. Or when he got you into Star Trek and you couldn't stop watching it. Pain stabs his chest for a moment, it's hard to remember everything he had to let go of to get the job he has now.
"I miss you too, you know." Spencer says off-handedly. It takes you by surprise, the sureness in his tone is jarring. He sounds so comfortable admitting when he's vulnerable, it's never been easy for you to be vulnerable with him. Maybe that's part of the reason he left, maybe you drove him away by shutting him out. His eyes meet yours, a look so soft in his eyes it feels as though his gaze is caressing your skin. You bite your bottom lip to keep the emotions at bay, what is it about this man that makes you so emotional?
"I never said I missed you." You try to snap, to add an edge to your tone. But instead it came out watery and broken, and in turn Spencer reached up to swipe away a falling tear.
"But you do." You can't even deny it, it's obvious.
"Damn you Spencer Reid, I was finally starting to feel okay again." You cry softly, curling your arms towards your chest in an attempt to shrink away from him. He cups your cheeks in his palms, turning your face up towards him.
"I wasn't." He admits before his lips are on yours, and it's not frenzied and desperate like you've been picturing all these years. It's slow and calculated, soft and passionate. Firm but with a tenderness that makes your knees buckle from the gravity of it. Spencer's fingers card into your hair, pulling your head closer to his. He nips at your lower lip, his arms crushing you against his chest. You throw yourself into him, your arms holding him as tightly as you possibly can. Afraid that if your vise grip loosens, even for a second, that he'll slip through your fingers like trying to hold onto water. You almost don't want to let your eyes close, you don't want him to disappear again.
"I missed you, I miss you-" You gasp against his lips, grabbing fistfuls of his dress shirt. Spencer continues to move his lips languidly against yours, backing you against the wall. His hand ghosts down your side to the hem of your shirt, his fingers toying with it.
"O-Off." You beg, and in an instant Spencer is pulling your shirt over your head. His eyes land on your bare chest, shocked that he almost forgot that you never really wear a bra. His hands curl around your back, drawing your chest up into his awaiting lips. His mouth curls around your hardened nipple, your hand flying into his hair from the contact.
"Is this a dream? Please tell me you're really here Spencer." You beg, almost becoming lost in the emotions again. His eyes flutter up to meet yours, his mouth reluctantly leaving your nipple. He brushes his lips over yours, his hand trailing down your stomach towards the waistband of your leggings.
"This is real, I'm here baby. I'm home." Hearing those words was too much, and you launch yourself into his chest as the first tear trickles down your cheek. Your lips press sloppily to his, the kiss messy and wet as his hand slides into your leggings. His fingers find your wet slit in an instant, desperately parting your lips to slide a lithe finger into you. Your body reacts to him instantly, in a way that surprises you. Almost as though it too was crying out for him, keening into him and begging for his touch as much as your mind is. Spencer hauls one of your thighs up to hook around his waist as he presses another finger into you. You cry out softly into the quiet air, accompanied only by the labored breathing fanning across your face.
"I need to feel you, I- I need-" You can barely get the words out as he steadily pumps his fingers into you. His mouth on yours silences your desperate pleading, his chest firmly pressing your back into the wall. You missed being able to feel him and you hate that you forgot what it feels like to have his body on yours. It's been so long you forgot what the sting of his cock feels like. What it feels like when you stretch wide open around him, to feel like you're being ripped in two. Spencer continues his pace, his thumb rolling your clit to provide the extra stimulation you're missing. It's not enough to satisfy you, but its enough for you two cum. Which you do. You gush around his fingers as you gently come undone, your back arching into him.
"Please," You beg wantonly, curling your other leg around his waist as his hands hook underneath your thighs. Spencer's lips press against yours, moving slowly against your own. You know now that you will never stop loving Spencer, and that he's completely ruined you for life. You'll never be able to love anybody else without your heart wandering back to him. But then again, you don't really mind because you don't want to be with anybody else. You don't want to love anybody else. You just want him, only him. He pushes into your room, walking the entirety of the way with his eyes closed and his mouth pressed against yours. He has the layout of your house mapped out in his head? He never even bumped into anything until he was dropping you unceremoniously on the bed.
"Tell me what you need, I'll give you whatever you want." Spencer husks against you, hovering above you. Your fingers are already unbuttoning his shirt before you even have the chance to respond to him. You know instantly what you want, what you need from him.
"I want all of you, give me everything." You plead, your lips practically chasing his as he kneels up over you. He's being soft tonight, and that's something you appreciate greatly. You need to feel his love, you need to feel everything you know he can't quite put into words. His hands are shaking as he undoes the button and zipper of his dress slacks before kicking them off the edge of the bed. You stare up at his naked body, looking as though it's been sculpted by the Gods specifically for you. Spencer smiles softly at you as he pulls your leggings down your legs, leaving little nips and kisses on your inner thighs as he goes.
"Hurry." You groan, nearly clawing at his bare shoulders to pull him back up to you. Spencer chuckles at how eager you are, watching with interested eyes as the head of his cock breaches your folds. You reluctantly stretch open as he continues his intrusion, his fists curling tightly around the sheets. Christ you weren't lying about not sleeping with anyone else, you're so tight it's making him feel a little lightheaded. Inch by inch Spencer presses into you, his forehead resting against yours once his pelvis is sitting flush against yours. Sure, you've had sex with hi before but never have you felt this connected to him. Spencer sits like a gentleman and lets you adjust to his size, trying to take a few deep breaths himself. It's hard to breathe with your heat sucking him in with a vice grip.
"Can I move?" You're surprised by how collected his voice is, but the furrow of his brow is a giveaway that he's losing the battle to stay stock still inside you.
"Yes, please." You moan, unashamed. Spencer gently draws his hips back, pulling himself nearly all the way out before swiftly sliding back into your inviting cunt. He sets the pace slow and deep, his hands reaching up to lace through yours. Every time the head of his cock nudges that spot deep inside you, you can feel your toes curl. Your head slams back against the pillows, unable to keep your gaze on him any longer. You feel yourself becoming one with him, and you wish you could capture this moment somewhere other then just in your minds eye. Your memory is nowhere near as good as Spencer's, he'll be able to recall every detail of this moment up until the day he dies. But over time, this memory will fade for you. It'll wear out, all the details becoming fuzzy and blurred. If he's not here in front of you, you'll forget and you don't want to forget.
When the night draws to a close, and the moon has reached its peak, Spencer slips carefully out of bed. It chisels away pieces of his heart as he carefully gets dressed, reaching for his go bag which he'd brought inside upon realizing that he'd be staying a while. He pulls out a t-shirt he'd worn recently and leaves it folded neatly at the end of your bed, something for you to hold onto when he's gone. Spencer's cheeks are wet with tears as he leans over and presses a kiss to your head.
"I love you." Is the last thing he whispers in the space between you two before he's gone again.
//
On the jet, Derek can't keep his eyes off Spencer and that helplessly broken look on his face. A book is laid nestled in Spencer's lap, but Derek can tell he isn't really reading it. Trying to bother Spencer into opening up probably won't work, but it's worth a try. Derek has to do something and this is all he can think of.
"You okay kid?"
"Yeah fine, why?" Spencer draws his eyes up from the book, his gaze meeting Derek's from across the table. While Spencer might be a talented actor, he can't lie to Derek.
"Look I know how hard it must have been leaving her again-"
"Did you know that on average the FDA allows a minimum of 1 rodent hair per 100 grams of peanut butter? They have to allow themselves room for error just in case of-"
"Alright you win, forget it." Derek sighs, turning his gaze out the window. In an instant Spencer drops his peanut butter spiel, turning back to his book. A guaranteed way to get people off his back is to start rambling about something boring or gross, they usually leave him alone pretty quickly. It's not that Spencer doesn't appreciate Derek's concern, he just doesn't want to talk about it. He can't talk about it, because every time he imagines how you're going to feel when you wake up, tears come to the surface of his eyes. He hates this case more than all the rest even though they saved the victim. Spencer hates this case for ripping open an old wound, one he thought healed.
He was wrong.
//
When you wake the next morning you knew he'd be gone. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you reached over and felt cold sheets. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you cried how much you loved him over and over again even though he couldn't hear you. It doesn't change how badly this hurts, how much worse it feels compared to the first time he left. Your eyes catch the shirt folded at the end of the bed and you grab it instantly. You pull it over your body and you lay down in your bed, inhaling his cologne that you know will fade over time. Eventually his scent will disappear, removing all traces that this fabric belonged to him at all. Every trace of him will disappear over time, every mark from your body will slowly vanish. When it's all gone, you'll be left with nothing more than a t-shirt that's too big for you, and a cold reminder that the man you love will never truly be yours. A reminder that every time he comes home, he leaves again.
A cold reminder that this world is cruel for bringing you Spencer Reid, only to rip him from you again and again.
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disney+ & bust
this is part of my netflix & chill collection !
summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.
warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf
miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans
word count; 13k !!
notes;
me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER
please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3
previous part: kissanime & foreplay
Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.
He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.
Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.
And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.
On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.
You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.
Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)
He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.
The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.
As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.
However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.
“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.
Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.
Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.
However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.
Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.
You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.
All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.
“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”
“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.
Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.
You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”
Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.
“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”
He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”
Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.
You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”
You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”
From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”
You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.
He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.
The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”
You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”
The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”
It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.
With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.
Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.
Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.
Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.
So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.
Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.
All men do is lie.
Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.
You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.
You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.
Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.
Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.
Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.
You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.
You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.
Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.
Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.
You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.
You don’t laugh.
Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.
“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.
Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.
You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.
“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.
Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”
Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”
For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”
Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.
You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.
When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”
At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”
You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”
“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?”
“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”
He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”
You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.
Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”
You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.
Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”
“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.
“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.
You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.
A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.
The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.
“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.
It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”
“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”
“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“
“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”
With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.
Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.
“No,” you respond.
You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.
As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.
Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?
You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.
You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care
—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.
You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.
There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.
It’s not.
It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.
The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).
He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”
You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.
“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.
Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.
By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?
You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.
“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.
“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.
“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”
His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.
Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.
Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”
You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.
“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”
“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.
He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”
You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”
“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”
He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”
You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.
Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”
He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.
When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.
With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.
He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.
By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)
Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.
Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.
You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.
Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.
You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”
You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.
The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.
You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”
Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”
His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.
Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”
You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”
He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”
You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.
“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”
Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”
His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”
He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”
Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.
Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.
Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”
You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.
He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence.
Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.
Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”
“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.
“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”
Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”
“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”
Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.
You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”
He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”
After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.
You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.
Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”
You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.
“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”
A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.
“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.
“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.
You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”
He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.
Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”
Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“
Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.
You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.
“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”
You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.
While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.
The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.
Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.
Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.
And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.
(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)
But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”
Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”
Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.
“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.
Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”
“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.
A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”
“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.
“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”
His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.
Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”
“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.
Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”
You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”
Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”
You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.
“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.
“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”
You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”
Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”
You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”
Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”
Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”
“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.
Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.
Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”
“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”
“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.
You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.
He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.
You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.
“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.
You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”
Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.
You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.
Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.
Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.
Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”
“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.
Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”
He loves you so much it aches.
“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”
A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.
You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.
Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”
You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”
Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”
A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.
With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.
“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.
“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.
It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.
There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.
He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.
A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.
“Impossible,” he scoffs.
Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.
“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.
You nod. “Please.”
He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.
You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.
“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.
Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”
epilogue
commercial break one ; the resolution
Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
#goldenclosetnet#networkbangtan#bangtanhq#ksmutclub#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jeongguk smut#jjk smut#jeongguk smut#bts smut#jjk♡#jeon jungkook#mine
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Breaking The Rules.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader (sort of Winter Soldier x F!Reader too)
Genre: Angst, Fluff
Warnings: like,,, lots of murder
Requested: nope
Summary: The Winter Soldier attacks the building where Y/N works and comes face-to-face with her. Surprising her and himself, he lets her go, breaking the rules, not following his orders. Y/N is so thankful about his mercy that she is now the world's biggest Bucky Barnes stan. What happens when their paths cross again 7 years later?
Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Okay so I don't really know if I've done a good job writing this but I tried my best so,,, enjoy!
---
The Asset is not thinking.
The Asset is not made to think.
Casually stroking his gun as he walked into the plain building, he watched the people inside the room pause for a minute. Then the screaming began. He simply stood there, the scene unfolding in front of him as people ran; inside rooms, out the building as they jumped out of windows to avoid him. He let them.
Finally having had enough because HYDRA demands some kills, Soldat, he cocked his gun and started out by fighting the security guards that had an ounce of bravery in them as they approached him with their own guns. He killed them easily. Then he moved further into the building, ending the lives of anyone who tried to get in his way.
What was his purpose of doing this? There was none. He was programmed to kill, and the program had no specific targets. No targets, only kill. He walked up the stairs of the building as more people, who had not been dead, escaped. Then he ended up on the floor where she was.
Y/N was going through a stack of papers, wearing headphones, when she heard a scream. It had been so sudden and loud that she startled badly, the papers flying from her hands as she turned around, ready to give the person a piece of her mind only to be met with the prettiest blue eyes she had ever seen in her life. The breath left her lungs and fear overtook her.
The person in front of her; she had heard of him. They called him The Winter Soldier. He was covered in black leather, his silver arm shining in the sunlight that entered through the window on her right. She quickly glanced at it; she was 10 stories above ground. He had a black mask on (more like a muzzle, she thought) and a peculiar look on his face.
She looked around the room, her eyes filling with tears when she saw the bodies of her coworkers, the friends she had made at the workplace, littered on the floor. Damn you, stupid headphones. She discarded them. He had killed them all. The Winter Soldier didn't really have a say in what he did, she told herself, he had been programmed to act like that.
Nothing but a murder toy for HYDRA.
And she hated them for that.
"Don't cry." She looked back at the Soldat, her eyes wide in confusion. Huh? Why would he say that? She blinked away the tears and started raising a hand to wipe them off when he suddenly raised his gun. Her hand paused mid-air and she held her breath, waiting for him to finally put her out of her misery as her eyes unconsciously watered once more.
When he saw her hand, though, her palm was facing him. Ready to rub off the tears, he noticed, and he lowered the gun. "Don't cry," he repeated and Y/N, as absurd as she found the situation to be, did as he ordered. She wiped the tears off and rubbed her hands on the jeans she was wearing, staring at the man. He stared back at her.
When he first entered the floor, he had done what he had been told, until there was no one alive in the room. Or so he thought, until his eyes landed on Y/N. She was wearing some sort of a device over her head, completely oblivious to what was going on. Was she deaf? Did she not hear the gunshots?
As he approached her cautiously, someone screamed behind him. And he saw how the papers flew out of her hand she whirled around, her big, doe eyes blinking at him until recognition sparked in them. Then she cowered. For some reason, as he looked at her, he couldn't bring himself to harm her. She looked… adorable, almost. So he did what he did best.
Stared.
Her eyes were darting around the place, and they watered when they landed on the bodies on the floor. He gulped quietly under his mask, something inside him stirring uncomfortably as he watched her cry. And suddenly, he couldn't help himself. "Don't cry," he blurted out and she looked back at him. He stared. She blinked rapidly and started raising her hand.
Thinking she would raise a hand on him, he immediately held up his gun as a warning but realized that she was simply drying her tears, new ones in her eyes as she looked at the gun. And he suddenly felt very apologetic. "Don't cry," he repeated and allowed her to wipe her tears. But he was surprised to hear her speak.
"Please don't hurt me."
She was shaking, arms going around herself, but she wasn't crying. At least she was not crying. He didn't reply, only stared as a foreign, almost forgotten word came to mind. Pretty. She was pretty. Soldat or not, how could he bring himself to harm a pretty thing like her? He raised his gun again when he remembered his orders; kill, do not show mercy.
The pretty woman started crying again, this time her tears were much more prominent. "Please, please don't do it, please… I have done nothing to you, don't do it…" she pleaded, fingers intertwined as if in prayer. Kill her. But he ignored the order and lowered his gun again.
"Pretty," he stated and her brows furrowed. Y/N blinked at him, pretty? Did she hear that right? He called her pretty, right? "Pardon?" she blurted out and his head tilted to the side. "Go." His voice sounded strained and for a moment, Y/N wanted to embrace him, to comfort him but hurriedly dismissing the thoughts, she turned on her heels and ran out the building.
The Asset stared at her as she ran.
He had not been programmed to think.
Then why had he?
---
"Guys, I'm telling you, it was so surreal—"
"Oh my God, Y/N, will you stop—"
Steve, Sam and Bucky glanced at the group of ladies that ended up at the bar next to them. A few years had passed since the incident between Bucky and Y/N took place and he was back to normal. No longer the Winter Soldier; he was an ally of the Avengers now. Steve glanced at his friends, lips curling into an amused smile.
"What do you think they're talking about?" he whispered and Sam snickered quietly. "Why don't we listen?" Bucky simply shook his head, but was also kind of intrigued at this surreal experience that Y/N talked about. Y/N… that name sounded kind of familiar to him, but maybe it was a common one, what did he know?
"He called me pretty!"
"We know he's hot, Y/N, but seriously, the Winter Soldier did not call you pretty."
The three men froze and their eyes darted amongst each other. "He did," Y/N whined, "I'm telling you!" Bucky almost dropped his glass but managed to hold on, his jaw dropped. Thankfully the ladies were not aware of the men shamelessly eavesdropping on their conversation. "Wait wait wait, what is this about you and the Winter Soldier? I've not heard that story."
"Ugh, Sam, you've done it now!"
Steve and Bucky glanced at Sam with smirks and he rolled his eyes. "Samantha," he snarked but the super soldiers only shrugged in reply. "Okay okay, this was like… 7 years ago. I was in my office, working, when our building was attacked. By him." And Bucky, try as he might, couldn't remember shit.
"Dude, I was wearing headphones so damn strong that I didn't hear literal gunshots echoing around the room, like what?"
"Seriously, Y/N? You know we won't say anything if you tell us you're lying."
"But I'm not lying," Y/N insisted, "I heard a scream and finally took off the headphones. When I turned to see who had screamed, he was literally standing in front of me." Hazy memories slowly flashed in his mind; a plain building, those red-black headphones and the fluttering of papers. He gulped his drink down.
"And didn't kill you like he had been trained to? I still think you're lying. Or maybe you just have severe trauma and you made up a story of the handsome Bucky Barnes calling you pretty." Bucky nearly laughed when Y/N's face turned red but then guilt started weighing heavy in his stomach. He had put her in danger…
"I don't have trauma, don't joke about stuff like that! Anyway, I was like, scared shitless. I thought I was gonna die, I started crying but he told me, don't cry. Like huh?" Bucky didn't remember that part. Steve and Sam were now definitely drawn to the story, their eyes set on their glasses as they listened.
"I didn't want to anger him so I wiped my tears but he raised that goddamn gun again and I started crying again. He repeated his words and I started pleading, as we've all seen in action movies." Snorts drifted between them. "Please don't hurt me, let me go…" Y/N mimicked but Bucky's heart rate suddenly spiked. The same voice, the same tone…
He had had a nightmare the previous night.
She was the one he heard.
"Okay, so after I'm done begging, you know what he fucking says? Out of all things, he literally called me pretty. Like just— just that one word came out of his mouth. I'm literally still so confused," she spoke animatedly and the friend who had not heard the story before gasped. "Seriously? No way," she scoffed.
"Yes way!" Y/N got impatient. Why did no one ever believe her? She got that it was an outlandish story, but it was real! Y/N wished the Soldat was here; not to kill, of course, merely to confirm the fact that he had, indeed, called her pretty. But that man was long gone, replaced by someone who was stable-but-not-so-stable, undoubtedly handsome and with a new metal arm. This Bucky was much better than the dangerous Soldat.
"Then he told me to go. He sounded so fucking soft, you know? I have so much respect for Bucky Barnes, I mean, look at him. He went through so much he didn't deserve, and sometimes I just wanna—" She made a choking gesture, "—everyone who hurt him." Her friends chuckled but he could tell she wasn't lying. She really did care for him.
After all he put her through…
"I'm serious! Look at him! He looks like a lost puppy. How can you not care about him?" Y/N whined and her friends shook their heads. "You just have a big crush on the man, accept it." Bucky rolled his eyes as Steve and Sam smirked at him. He nudged them both, keeping silent. "You know what? I wish he was here right now. He probably doesn't even remember but if he did—"
"I remember it, doll, only vaguely…"
Y/N's group froze as their gazes followed the voice, landing on the three Avengers beside them. Her friends were mortified, Y/N even more so. Did he hear the story? "D-Did you… hear…" she stammered and Bucky pursed his lips. "I'm sorry." The apology fell out before he could stop himself and Y/N, ever the Bucky-apologist, instantly shook her head.
"It was not your fault. HYDRA did that to you. You didn't deserve any of it, mark my words." She sounded like Steve, he noticed and smiled gently. After all he put her through… she still stood by his side. "Thank you, doll, that really means a lot," he said sincerely and Y/N grinned at him. "You're welcome!" And before she could turn to her friends, he spoke up again.
"I meant what I said."
"Hm?" She looked at him, head tilted in confusion. "When I called you pretty, I meant it. You are pretty, very much so." She went red under his intense gaze and shied away, forcing Steve, Sam and her friends to burst into boisterous laughter. "Th-Thanks," she mumbled and Bucky craved her more.
"Join me for a drink?" he questioned and her eyes widened. He mistook it for fear and immediately lowered his head. "Sorry, I overstepped—" He froze when she took his metal hand, holding it gently, looking at him with the same eyes he had thought to be adorable 7 years ago. "Of course I'll join you." A genuine smile bloomed on his face and without a care in the world, he led her away from her friends.
She was going to be his.
Forever and always.
The only woman caring and wonderful enough to accept him, broken and everything.
---
A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading! Love you all 🖤
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fluff#winter soldier#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x y/n#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan x female reader#sebastian stan characters#disney#mcu#marvel#avengers#fanfic#writing#writeblr
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tease
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↳ Summary: You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.
↳ Pairing: Stripper!Jungkook/Reader
↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, drama, slice of life, relationship problems without the relationship, reader is such a shy baby protect her, MUTUAL pining, so much sexual frustration,
Word Count: 11k
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Warning: This story touches on both sexual harassment and abuse, please read with caution if any of these things are triggers to you. Additional warnings will be given when a chapter present them.
Sweat beaded down his neck as he noticed the sun going down, shit if he didn’t start running faster he was going to be late…! Jungkook didn’t make any effort to stop by the two girls who had obviously been hoping to talk to him. He didn’t have time for that, not when he just got this next round of pay.
Pausing at the cracked pavement of the apartment building he took a deep breath, wiping the sweat from his brow before calming himself down, inner excitement buzzing inside him as he felt accomplished. Five hundred, that was the number he had made this week. Five hundred, that would be enough for food…! Or- or maybe they could squeeze rent in with it too!
Jungkook felt giddy as passed by the dead brush of old flowers, the paint chipping off the side of the wall by the front door just as it always did, vaguely he could remember when his mom complained about never living somewhere nice.
Maybe this wasn’t an upper-class suburban neighborhood, but it was home. Opening the front door Jungkook paused, feeling a little leery at the sight of empty bottles on the table, his dad couldn’t have been home already, right? Jisoo was curled up on the couch, eyes meekly flickering to meet Jungkook’s before quirking into a little smile of greeting before letting her gaze drop back to her homework, “Mom’s in her room, haven’t seen her since I got home.”
Jungkook pressed his brows together in confusion, usually, she was a little more chipper than that, “Oh…” he breathed out before letting his shoulders slump a little, “Alright, I’m gonna go talk to her for a few minutes, do you need help with your homework?” He paused at the entry kitchen where the small circle table sat, takeout boxes piled up and the occasional pizza box underneath, he should really take the time to try and clean up.
Jisoo’s gaze flickered between her brother and her homework as she nibbled against her lip, “...You don’t have to help me Jungkook…” She felt guilty, he could tell instantly.
Jungkook’s expression twisted a little more stern as he replied, “If I don’t then who will Jisoo?” He cut himself off abruptly as a thick silence hung in the air, Jisoo refused to look at him as she fiddled with her pencil, something she always did when she was nervous. Sighing he ran a hand through his hair, not wanting to scare her though it still disheartened him that she really thought of him like that, “I know I don’t Jisoo, But I don’t mind, okay? Let me just go talk to mom then I’ll be out in a moment to help.”
She only nodded before letting out a soft sigh, curling up against the pillow she had hugged before Jungkook walked into the kitchen, the door ahead closed and it seemed like the lights were turned off, softly knocking Jungkook heard a crash inside as he opened the door, the TV playing in the pitch-black room where the curtains had been closed.
“Mom?” Jungkook furrowed his brows as she wobbly stood up, the cigarette she wasn’t supposed to be smoking in the house pinched between two of her fingers as she struggled to stand up properly, “Kookie…!” Her voice enthusiastic yet somewhat confused, her brows squeezed together as if she struggled to see him, “When did you get home?” She fumbled around the bed as he coughed, waving the cigarette smoke she had blown in his face on accident out of the way.
“I...I just got home mom, look I know it’s been hard with dad but….” He scratched his neck, feeling a little apprehensive before pulling the thick wad of cash out of his pocket, “I wanted to help out so…! Here, maybe…maybe me, you and Jisoo can go to the store and…!” He felt proud of himself at his mom's eyes lighting up quickly snatching the money from his hands, “Maybe we could get a few new sets of clothes or….mom?” He paused as she finished counting the money with an exasperated sigh as if inconvenienced.
“You couldn’t have gotten another hundred?” His mom complained, her face saying that this was absolutely not enough, Jungkook felt his lips part, fumbling but no words came out as he felt his previous excitement begin to deflate.
It...it wasn’t good enough…?
“Jungkook I would have thought you’d be more useful than this,” She sighed as she turned her back, annoyance filtering her features as she waved a dismissive hand, “I should’ve anticipated this though, I can never count on you to be enough when I need it. Go help your sister with her shit.”
She puffed from her cigarette once more as Jungkook felt the frustrated anger quell in him, stiff in place as he felt the urge to swallow the hard rock that was suddenly stuck in his throat, his mom turned around as her scorned expression furrowed, “Are you deaf in the head? Get the fuck out of here and go do something useful. God you’re so fucking needy.”
Jungkook had made sure to slam the door on his way out, running a hand through his hair as he felt the anger seethe through his veins, why was it never enough? All he wanted was to help! To be validated and good enough for his mother? Growling he hadn’t even registered when his fist slammed into the wall, again….and again...and again.
His fist throbbed in sharp pain and it was already becoming swollen as blood trickled against the floor. Jisoo didn’t have the nerve to ask when she carefully wrapped his hand.
….
Memories like those were the most prominent, especially after triggering situations such as just a few hours ago in which Jungkook and you had experienced a near kidnapping. The ride home had been painfully silent and it wasn’t until in the shower that you had broken down crying and continued until you could no longer keep yourself awake.
Jungkook however, wasn’t tired at all, the opposite in fact, his eyes had been staring blankly at the ceiling for the last two hours, his mind filtering memories and briefly wondering, where had he gone wrong in his life? You were curled up against him, your body relaxed and your face buried against his side.
With you sound asleep, Jungkook didn’t feel the obligation to hold a pleasant expression, and thus his bitter glare at the dirty white ceiling you had commented on painting one day. Where did he go wrong? Was he really that terrible of a person, was he considered a pain in the ass as a child?
In fact, Jungkook felt strongly when he was younger, about wishing he had never been born, so that he wouldn’t have had to endure such incredibly hurtful parents. Jungkook wanted nothing more than to cherish his mother’s love. His lips quivered a little, his top lip twitching a little at the angry gloss of tears in his eyes, he hated it. He hated that it still hurt him almost ten years later.
Jungkook hated more than anything, the permanent stain it had left on his heart, the constant need to prove that he wasn’t needy, that he didn’t need anyone, that he didn’t need to rely on anyone. He bent over backwards and compromised more of himself then he possibly could, in hopes that one day, his mother would love him.
It wasn’t that Jungkook regretted his decisions, he had made plenty of money that he kept to himself, hence buying his first car, he could get his sister new clothes and pay for her meals. But still...he just wished he hadn’t compromised so much of himself, for something he would never have been given, no matter how perfect he tried to be.
When he first came to Seoul, Jungkook didn’t know who he was, or what he wanted to do. He had spent so much of his life, living day in and day out, hoping he could force himself into the role of perfect son that would somehow fix his dysfunctional life, to the point that when he had left it all. It left him completely devoid inside. And Jungkook supposed he did eventually find himself, somehow.
….
Purified sugar and there had to be some kind of strain of acidic flavor in the energy drink Jungkook had just finished chugging, it was his third one tonight and he had just finished his shift. His coworker coming in looking buzzed on something that was definitely not alcohol.
“Psst- hey Jungkook,” He frowned as he turned to the male, raising a brow as he silently inspected the guys pupils that were widened like saucers, “You want some of this shit before you go? Hits different.”
Jungkook’s nose wrinkled a little as he watched the guy pull the plastic bag from his coat, pure white powder inside as he offered a weak smile, “No thanks man, have a...good shift.” He offered, not in the least bit interested in that.
Jungkook had watched his dad drain his whole life away with drugs, he was not about to do the same thing. Pushing his hands into his sweatshirt as he pushed the backdoor to the convenient store open. Life was shitty, but at least he was by himself, alone, and able to do what he wanted. The motel was a pretty far walk and these parts of Seoul weren’t the hottest but hey, it was a pretty lively area.
Groaning Jungkook pulled up his hood, keeping his head low as he began to weave through alleyways as a shortcut to the motel, he was making, barely enough money to pay for it with the discount of ramen but admittedly...his stomach ached and growled in need of substance that he was beginning to get tired of living on. Was the rest of his life going to be this bleak?
Jungkook had debated on enrolling for college but it seemed like a bad idea and a lot of debt he couldn’t afford to get into when he was barely putting a roof over his head. The idea of being an escort didn’t sound horrible but…
His lips twitched. No, he wasn’t going back to that. It was still too fresh in his head and he couldn’t handle anymore predatory older women preying on him. Ah great, his clothes were practically soaked to the bone. He’d need to find a day job at least to start saving money for actual food- take out at least and new clothes.
Jungkook hadn’t even realized where he was walking until he smashed into someone, he didn’t mind it much but to be fair he was on the giving end, the guy taking a tumble before he growled, “Hey fuckin’ watch where you’re going kid.” Jungkook kept his head low, knowing damn well it was too late and he was too hungry for this shit.
He just wanted to get out of the cold rain before he got sick, “Look! Little fucker thinks he’s better than us!” The friend called out, walking up as he got in Jungkook’s face as he followed beside him, “Hey shithead, you ran into my friend! I think that warrants an apology!”
Jungkook paused, lifting his chin a little as he closed his eyes in exasperation, these guys were really fucking annoying, they both began cackling at his reaction as he turned to face them both, “Fuck off.” Jungkook could hardly contain the words tumbling from his lips, this wasn’t a good start given it was a 2v1 here.
“Ooh, little man thinks he’s a badass.” The friend mockingly awed out before Jungkook was suddenly shoved, “Because you’re so rude to your elders, I think you should give us money as compensation for not beating your ass.”
Compensation? In what world?
Jungkook scoffed, a smirk coiling on his lips as he cocked his head into an annoying cocky expression, “The only compensation you’ll get is having the luxury of kissing my ass.” Knowing this totally wasn’t in his favor he suddenly shoved the first guy which made him slam into his friend before he booked it down the alleyway.
Heavy footsteps pounded on the pavement following after him, making his way out of the alleyway he made a sharp right but didn’t make it two feet before he slammed into multiple bodies, “Out of the way assholes! He’s dead meat!” Jungkook scurried behind the two men who didn’t budge an inch.
They were around his height and yet...they both definitely went to the gym, “Ew, they look like hetros.” The one on the right said as he wrinkled his nose, he held an umbrella that shielded his friend and Jungkook as well who leered, looking ready to run again if needed, “What are you doing over there idiot?” He twisted around and Jungkook was somewhat taken aback at how stunning this man was...was he a model?
More importantly his brows furrowed in confusion, he knew neither of these guys, why did they act like they knew him? The man spoke once more as he looked at Jungkook as if he knew him well, “Got into trouble, again?”
The man on the left spoke up as he tutted, “Sorry for our friend, he’s young and doesn’t know any better. Ah...It would be best if you just go…” His voice was methodical and smooth. He was a little taller than Jungkook and the other man, a pleasant yet tense smile on his face.
The two guys looked at one another before glaring at Jungkook once more, who only let a snide smile appear on his face as the two grumbled their apologies, even giving a short bow before slinking back into the depths of the alleyway.
Both the men turned around, the one on the right who looked like a model snorted, “You know this kid?”
“Nope.” The other one said as he shrugged.
Jungkook could only look between the two men, suddenly stricken with gratitude at the realization that, despite not even knowing who Jungkook was, they stuck their necks out for him to get these guys away. He looked a little doe eyed before he offered a boyish smile as he bowed, “Wow you guys really saved my ass! Hey uh-” Jungkook couldn’t put his finger on why, but he wanted to get to know these two better, “I can make it up to you! I could buy drinks!”
“No!” The model immediately rejected, his hand on his mouth as his nose wrinkled, “I mean your welcome but hard pass, i’ve already drunk twice my weight in liquor for the night.” He winced a little as if trying not to gag.
Jungkook frowned as he rubbed his head...oh...okay…? He turned to the other man, suddenly feeling a bit odd at the way this guy was staring at him. It wasn’t creepy or as if he had ulterior motives, but it was as if...he was evaluating him. Jungkook felt a bit uneasy and at this notice the man offered a weak smile, “Say, if you’re struggling for money, get off work early and come back here tomorrow kid. You’d be a hot take here. Come on Seok let’s go.”
The other man shrugged before they walked away leaving Jungkook thoroughly confused and somewhat dazed as rain began to pour back over him again. Puzzled, he turned to face the building the two men had exited from.
Cherry Bomb. Huh, interesting.
...
The thought of those two men lingered in Jungkook’s mind the whole day as he debated on what to do and in the end, he figured, what the hell? Why not just go for it and see, he was a bit leery admittedly at the man's words about making money. Last time he did that, he became an underage escort and a drug runner.
His nose wrinkled as he carefully made his way through the alleyway, careful to not run into anyone this time. It was two in the morning and he figured, this would be early enough, right? Unless...No he’d give it a try!
Jungkook nodded in determination as he stood in front of the bright neon red sign with the words Cherry Bomb plastered on it, what even was this place anyways? He paused at the two bouncers out front, checking ID’s as he got his ready, showing it before they nodded and let him inside.
Jungkook had expected a lot of things, what he didn’t expect was the foggy atmosphere, cherry red neon lights, tables packed with people and screams of cheers. Making his way through the crowd his nose wrinkled a little before he got a good look at the large stage, thinner in the middle and circled out on the sides.
His lips immediately parted at the sight of...naked women...dancing...wrapped around poles. His ears were burning as he frantically looked away, feeling like he was intruding on a private event before his hormones got the best of him. His eyes looked back at the stage where the woman kept swaying her hips as she parted her legs. Her tits were perked and her thong left little to the imagination and…
Jungkook tensed at the sudden feeling of arousal shooting down below, his cock throbbing against his jeans as he awkwardly shifted. What the fuck was he supposed to do with this...was he even in the right place…?
But...if he wasn’t...wouldn’t they have been more specific…? Jungkook peered around, feeling a little hesitant as he scanned the crowd before...Oh! Oh there he was! Jungkook shuffled through the crowd as he found the man at the bar, laughing with the bartender before they met eyes, “Oh good! I was wondering if the environment would scare you off,” He laughed, “You look like a boy coming of age.”
“..I…” Jungkook paused, not used to this type of talk being so...free, feeling apprehensive he asked the only question he could think of, “What is this place?”
The guy snorted, looking amused as he spoke, “A strip club…? Hey how old are you?”
“Twenty…” Jungkook replied, a little reluctant as the man laughed, almost endeared as he squared his shoulders a little, he wasn’t a kid! He just...had never...Jungkook felt his ears burn as his eyes narrowed, sex wasn’t everything!
“Okay good! That means you’re legal!” He wiped a non existent sweat off his brow as he offered a dimpled smile, “I’m Kim Namjoon,” He nodded in greeting, “I work here as a Soloist.” Jungkook’s lips parted a little as he looked at Namjoon before at the stage, “Yeah, I’m a stripper.”
A male stripper? Jungkook had never heard of such a thing before as he furrowed his brows before he connected the dots, suddenly bursting out laughing as he sat in a seat, “You think I would be a stripper!?”
Namjoon lifted a hand as he spoke, “I mean, you showed up didn’t you?” Jungkook paused as Namjoon smiled cunningly, “Mhm, listen, I get it. Everyone’s a little reserved when they first get in the business but, we have it good here at Cherry Bomb.”
“...I’m not a stripper,” Jungkook’s nose wrinkled a little, looking at his knuckles before up to the bartender that was busy serving several other customers, “I’m not even experienced-”
“Pause,” Namjoon cut him off as he looked at him in wariness, “That’s what’s good about Cherry, we accept people with zero experience. They’re called trainee’s, which means they have an experienced stripper show them the ropes of how everything works.”
Jungkook didn’t speak for a moment, as he swiveled his chair around, looking out at the stage where girls were dancing as raunchy as possible but...his eyes landed on the money that was flying...that had to be fifty, “....And you want me as what…? A trainee?”
Namjoon smiled patiently, “Pretty much, I’m particular in who I train but, you have the face for the job. I feel like you'd generate a lot of profit. For yourself and Cherry.” This was where Jungkook frowned, wariness filling him once more. Profit for Cherry Bomb...He couldn’t shake the feeling that, this seemed too good to be true…”So what’s the catch?” Namjoon tilted his head as Jungkook spoke, “What’s the catch, where’s the draw back? This can’t just be me flashing everyone my dick and getting paid for it.”
“Right…” Namjoon smiled a little as he curved a brow, “You won’t, salary is cheap because technically our tips make up for it. But starting out as a trainee means nobody knows you and, nobody is going to throw money at you.” Jungkook tilted his head a little, “See we have a hierarchy here. First we have bottom feeders, trainee’s, they’re new, they’re awkward, nobody knows them and nobody wants to give them money when something better waits. Then there’s fillers, those girls up there who dance between the main shows, which are soloist’s who dance by themselves. They’re what everyone is waiting for.”
Jungkook frowned, “So unless you’re the main attraction there’s no point in dancing.” Then why bother with this place, weren’t most strip clubs self employed anyways? Why be a bottom feeder here when you had greater success somewhere else? It didn’t sound appealing to Jungkook.
“Because,” Namjoon chuckled as the stage went dark before the lights turned on, Jungkook immediately recognized it as the male he met last night, “Everyone likes a big ego and an even bigger wallet.” He hadn’t even started dancing and money was already being piled onto the stage.
Jungkook couldn’t help but watch in awe at the way he kept a crowd which, surprisingly held many females who all gushed and screamed for him, the power he held in his performance and all the money that floated down on him as he swung around the pole. Jungkook was...interested. And besides, what’s the worst that could happen with this place?
“Alright,” Jungkook leaned back in his seat as he looked at Namjoon, a cocky look in his eyes as he smirked, “I’m willing to talk.”
----
That was a turning point in Jungkook’s life. He stretched out a little, careful not to move too much as he didn’t want to wake you, you had shifted with a little yawn before your face pressed back against him. His lips ghosted into a smile as he looked down at you, his hand tethering gently against the back of your neck as you curled against his touch, you were just too cute.
For a moment everything was okay before he frowned once more, no matter what you said, it was his fault you were put in the position you were, if he had just...Jungkook silently groaned in frustration, he had lived his whole life like this.
It wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to.
But it frustrated him to no end, he could’ve done a lot of things in his life differently but he didn’t. And now you were having to deal with all of his baggage he had secretly hoped he could bury with time. But this situation was just a bitter reminder that no matter how fast Jungkook ran, the past would always catch up.
….
“Mmm fuck, that’s it you little slut.” Sweat beaded against the back of Jungkook’s neck, the tight space of the bathroom stall making his body heat radiate and his skin flush as a low moan escaped him. His hand fisted into the girl's hair, her lips eagerly wrapped around his cock as she bobbed her head against it.
Jungkook’s brows creased as he guided her movements, her cheeks hollowing before carefully taking him down her throat as he hissed, “Fuck, I bet you like choking on cock don’t you baby? Such a slutty brat.” He growled, forcing her head still before sharply snapping his hips into her mouth, his orgasm was so fucking close.
She was gagging and clawing against his thighs as gurgled whines escaped her, her little throat tightening around his cock making him let out a long moan as he rutted one last into her mouth, his cum warm and thick as it slid down her throat.
Jungkook needed a moment to recover before pulling himself from her mouth, heaving in breaths as he rasped, “Jesus….thanks.”
The girl- Yuna stood up as she wiped her lips, a bright smile adorning them as she laughed, “My pleasure, you should probably go talk to Namjoon though, as nice as your dick is it’s not why I came to get you.”
Tucking himself away Jungkook glanced up at her as he gave a half smirk, though it seemed more like a lopsided smile, “I didn’t hear you complaining. I’ll go talk to him. Did he say what he wanted?” Namjoon, his mentor, was always on the more relaxed end of Soloist’s, not quite having the energy to debate with Jungkook.
“Mmm dunno,” Yuna shrugged as she opened the stall, fixing her hair as best she could before rubbing her eyes, taking a quick look into the mirror to make sure she was somewhat decent, “You said you weren’t into degradation last time we fucked.” She raised a brow in curiosity as she glanced at him in the mirror.
Jungkook paused, running a hand through his hair as he looked away briefly. He did say that beforehand, trying to degrade a girl just felt….wrong...It almost always made him feel like an asshole and for the longest time he never saw the appeal. Jungkook shrugged as he replied, “Well, one of the girls I slept with was really...like really into it, and she explained that everything was consented and that if she had a problem with anything I called her she’d tell me. I wasn’t really into it at first but if it’s what she wanted,” He shrugged once more as Yuna turned around, tilting her head, “But after seeing how much it turned her on, and how weak she got anytime I called her a slut...It was kinda hot.”
Jungkook’s brows pressed together in thought, it was weird but, if the girl was okay with it then, that made it okay, right? He still felt somewhat at war with himself, maybe he should’ve asked Yuna? Even if she was the one that was practically begging him to call her a whore to begin with, but still.
Yuna gave him a smile as she opened the door waving him out as he followed her, “You’re telling me all I needed to do was give you an educational lesson in BDSM? You’re so innocent Jungkook.” He glared at her as she laughed holding up her hands, “I’m just saying, you’re a natural in bed but you just always seem to...hold back…”
Walking out of the hallway the main floor of Cherry Bomb was packed as always in the morning, girls going over their routines, people conversing with one another, Jungkook had come to love it here, it wasn’t the nicest place, but it wasn’t like he grew up living a nice life, “Well,” He huffed as his memories of his earlier experience when it came to sex flashing through his mind, “It’s not like I was with someone my age willing to guide me through it.”
He immediately regretted his words, mentally chiding himself at saying too much as Yuna furrowed her brows, glancing up at him as she frowned. He was thankful she didn’t seem to say anything on the matter though, maybe knowing it wasn’t a good idea.
“Well regardless, I’m proud of you.” Yuna patted his back as he rolled his eyes, leave it to her to keep things surface level before flashing him a grin and parting ways. Jungkook’s eyes scanned over the room, clacking his tongue as he sighed, Namjoon was probably in the soloist room if he wasn’t out here.
Making his way back down the hallway he pushed the door of the room open, glancing up at the small stage where Seokjin was working with Rose, “Done with your quick fuck already Jungkookie?”
Jungkook’s shoulders tensed and his gaze deathened as they landed on the insufferable figure that stood ahead, freshly dyed platinum silver hair that covered thick bushy brows, the smirk crept on none other then Kim Taehyung’s face, what a fucking tool, “At least I can get my dick sucked without having to beg people to do it.”
Taehyung snorted as he curved a brow, running his fingers through his hair as he replied, “Sorry what was that? Couldn’t hear you over being Cherry Bomb’s Playboy, girls would be fighting to the death to suck what I got.”
Jungkook gritted his teeth as he rolled his eyes, refraining from rearranging that pretty face of Taehyung’s, he didn’t give a shit if he had only been working there for two weeks when Taehyung won SSU he still thought it wasn’t deserved. Taehyung was conceited garbage beneath Jungkook’s feet. He wasn’t going to groval over him just because he was a soloist now.
“Jungkook,” Namjoon sighed, curving a brow as he glanced between the two rivals before rolling his eyes, “Come on, over here.” He waved over his trainee who gritted his teeth before reluctantly walking over.
Jungkook raised his brows in question, not understanding why his mentor wanted him, most days he wasn’t even really training with Namjoon anymore, it had been almost a year of him working here and Jungkook personally thought becoming a filler would be easier than this. Training for over a year was just so ridiculous though, he was used to stripping, he could spend the whole night with girls at a table. And yet these people still treated him like he was a trainee, just because of the title.
“Look I need you to be on your best behavior tonight okay?” Jungkook pulled up a chair as he sat across from Namjoon at the small table as he curved a brow, “Seasonella’s reps are coming tonight to choose and you’re definitely going to get onto the list if you put on a good show. But, I wouldn’t blame you if you want to take tonight off.”
Jungkook was like a toddler beaming, he didn’t know all the ends and outs of Seasonella, but he knew it was guaranteed to be promoted from trainee to filler, hell, maybe even...He dismissed the idea, the last thing he needed was to get ahead of himself, “Why would I do that?” Jungkook scoffed, a cocky smirk on his face as he continued, “You know how I feel about still being a trainee. If I have even the slightest chance of climbing up from this shitfest I’ll take it.”
Namjoon grimaced a little, of course his trainee was stubborn hard headed ass, sighing he ran a hand through his hair before replying, “We don’t just strip there Jungkook. We’re treated as prostitutes as well, I don’t know what the deal is but they make it like we have a choice when we don’t. It’s...not really pleasant.”
Jungkook didn’t think much about his words, only snorting as he lifted his chin in that cocky manner he always had, “So I’ll get paid to not only strip but to fuck too? Where’s the loss in that?” This sounded like a pretty good gig in his opinion, what were the drawbacks supposed to be?
Namjoon shook his head as he sighed, figuring this would probably be the kid's reaction despite coming from a rough background himself, he had hoped, Jungkook would exercise a little more caution than he was. But then again Namjoon also understood that he was young and immature.
“Nevermind. Regardless, if you want to go you need to be on your best behavior and…” Namjoon looked away somewhat wryly, “Don’t....don’t piss anyone off tonight, last thing I need is for you to try to knock the client's son’s teeth out.” Jungkook only puffed his chest proudly as he leaned his weight back and he shoved his hands into his pocket.
“Deal.”
…
Jungkook felt the urge to laugh at how stupid he had been, how arrogant and immature his actions were to not heed Namjoon’s warning. It’s why he couldn’t be upset with you. He was even worse than you his first year at Seasonella. True he didn’t go as far as shut it down, but then again, Eva didn’t waste time in digging up his whole past and dangling it over his head to keep him coming.
But if he heeded the warning then- he cut himself off, what was the point in always thinking this way? Admittedly, it was getting tiring to beat himself up constantly, to wish for things to be different when they weren’t.
Jungkook, just wanted to put everything behind him, and start fresh. He had friends who he considered his family and….well he had you. His eyes flickered to your figure that wiggled a little to get comfortable before stilling once more. Sighing he shook his head, he almost lost you last night. Or you almost lost him.
He couldn’t live the rest of his life like this, he couldn’t.
….
“So...are you um…”
Jungkook leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through his sweat ridden hair, his muscles admittedly had been aching but it had been a great weekend honestly, what even was Namjoon talking about? He turned to face the girl he had been accompanying the whole week, Eva Friar.
Jungkook felt a flow of ego filter him at the reminder, that’s right. For only being a trainee, he bagged the client’s daughter, she was just a year older than him and hey, she had money. And lots of it. By this point Jungkook would be able to get that apartment near Gangnam like he had been hoping.
“I’m taking it you’re single?” Eva squeaked out, a shy smile on her face as she covered her nose with the blanket in an attempt to try and look cute. Jungkook curved a brow, single…? It hadn’t even crossed his mind honestly.
Jungkook was neutral if not a little confused before he spoke, “...Yeah…? I mean, I doubt anyone would wanna date a guy like me.” He laughed a little despite it sounding tense- that came off more self-deprecating then he had wanted...But it was true and honestly...Jungkook couldn’t do love.
Not right now at least, it was too soon and memories of home were too fresh. The only love he had ever been exposed to was well...It wasn’t love and...how was he supposed to express something he had never been given?
“Oh?” Eva perked up, giggling a little as she fumbled to sit up, pulling the sheet against her chest despite Jungkook having already fucked her three times thus far today, “W-well that’s hard to believe! I mean, look at you!”
Jungkook frowned a little, looking down at himself, true he had gotten a membership at the gym and he had obviously worked on his stroke game but...He was just...himself, “And…?” He asked as he furrowed his brows.
“You’re the whole package Jungkook!” Eva exclaimed as she smiled brightly, “I- I mean...any girl would be lucky enough to date you…” She trailed off coyly as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Really?” Jungkook cocked a brow, not sure if he actually believed her, Jungkook wouldn’t….exactly consider himself a catch, given...well literally everything outside his appearance.
“Well I mean…” She shuffled a little closer to him as she fluttered her eyelashes, “How about you take me to dinner tonight and I’ll show you…”
Jungkook immediately leered back. Dinner!? Where did him being a stripper here for the weekend, say he was taking her to dinner, he knew it was an invitation but....”No thanks,” He offered a semi awkward smile, “I...I’m not really into relationships…”
“O-oh…”
Great now he felt like an ass. Jungkook tried to recover as he forced a laugh that admittedly sounded light, “Yeah! It's just...you know, being a stripper and all. It doesn’t mesh well with relationships. You understand yeah?”
Eva’s lips trembled a little and Jungkook had a difficult time looking at her, god this girl was so pitiful, “No totally! Ha..ha. I’m gonna use the bathroom!” She suddenly fumbled and before Jungkook could say a word, she was gone. Collapsing back against the bedboard he groaned, god dammit.
Jungkook wasn’t sure when he actually fell asleep, it was difficult telling, but what he did enjoy was waking up to you every single day now, you were already awake and on your laptop most likely doing something miscellaneous or maybe working on a art history project you had been putting off for the majority of the summer time.
His lips briefly twisted in a small smile as he set his chin on his arms admiring your side profile as you had yet to realize he had woken up. Your brows furrowed a little and your lips pressed together before jutting out once more as you paused typing.
Then your eyes met his, a sleepy smile on his face as he watched you huff a little embarrassed for no reason at all but simply just because, “Morning babygirl.” He spoke up, his voice a little raspy and dehydrated from the long night.
Jungkook’s smile turned more affectionate as he watched a shy smile appear on your lips as your eyes trailed back to the laptop screen, “Morning.” You mumbled out as you began to type again, your expression looked a little clouded compared to most days and briefly Jungkook wondered why before it hit him what had happened, “I tried waking you up to help me with breakfast but you were out of it. So I figured I'd just wait for you to wake up.”
Jungkook said nothing at first, rather he studied your focused expression with a little frown as an odd feeling set in his stomach at how detached you appeared, not wanting you to catch on though he spoke, “You don’t have to wait for me to make breakfast,” He smiled lovingly, his eyes still sleepy as he looked up at you, who broke away from that cloudy look unable to help but share the same smile as your nose crinkled a little, “I burnt toast last time you tried to get me to help.” He commented rolling onto his back onto his side, looking up at you, at first anticipating you would bring up what had happened but….
“Because you said putting it on a higher heat would make it cook faster.” You clacked your tongue making him chuckle, it was his fault the toast came out like a brick but truthfully he hadn’t used his toaster in almost a year until you started staying over.
He closed his eyes briefly, you were an amazing cook, no matter how much you tried to coyly dismiss him, he’d shower you in compliment after compliment when it came to what you made in the kitchen. Jungkook would admit he was suspicious about all the food you had gotten at the grocery store but he stood corrected, you were making use of it all.
Jungkook couldn’t even adequately describe how much he loved you and everything you did for him, it was quiet for a moment as he stared up at you with his lips twisted into a tiny smile, his lack of reply making you turn to look at him as your nose crinkled again, “Hey babygirl….” Jungkook hummed out making you raise your brows, he sat up tenderly as he ran a hand through his hair, feeling a little apprehensive as he mumbled, “...Baby are you okay…?”
“Don’t….” Jungkook immediately frowned at your sharp words as you curled away from him a little, your expression a shards of distraught could be seen in your expression which only made him want to hold you closer, “Jungkook I…” you closed your eyes, lips quivering a little as you mumbled, “Can we not...talk about it?”
Jungkook frowned as he stared at your curled up figure earnestly, not talk about it…? Jungkook didn’t want to make any assumptions but it was difficult to not when you were acting like this, “Baby…” Jungkook sighed before tenderly reaching out, pulling you closer as he rested his chin in your shoulder, “We can’t ignore what’s going on.”
Your lips drew together tightly and he could see the way your eyes watered as you inhaled sharply, trying your best to keep it together as you mumbled, “We can, what else can we do besides that?” You looked up at him, a tear having escaped as it began to trickle down your cheek, “Just for a few hours, please?” You mumbled.
Jungkook sighed, weak for you and he could never do something with the intention of knowing you’d cry, cradling your cheek he thumbed the tear away, “Just a few hours baby.” He leaned up, pressing a kiss on your cheek as you crumbled back against him, basking in the warmth he had to offer as he tenderly trailed a few kisses down your neck. Time passed slowly and tenderly as silence took over for a long while, Jungkook still felt mildly concerned but he wouldn’t push you, especially like this.
But pretending like last night didn’t happen wasn’t a good idea either, Jungkook felt helpless as he pressed a kiss onto your head, feeling lost and unsure of what to do. This wasn’t healthy for him or you at this point and your alarming detachment was only making him more and more worried for your safety, pretending things weren’t going on was only going to give you a false sense of security that didn’t exist.
“...Can we go cook now...,” You whined with a mumble as you closed your laptop before getting out of bed, “Come let go, let’s go, let’s go!” You bounce a little, a silly pout on your lips and a surprising amount of energy for someone who hated waking up early, let alone with everything going on, the large t-shirt covering close to your knees before you hurried from the room.
Jungkook shook his head, letting you have your temporary moment of relief, a smile on his face before groaning as he got out of bed, rubbing his head, “You’d be more successful without me burning anything!” He called out in one last ditch effort to go back to bed.
“I want your help!” You sang back not taking no for an answer as he shook his head, getting up as he yawned once more, rubbing his eyes before he grabbed a sweatshirt that was hanging off the side of the laundry hamper. You both were supposed to go to the laundromat this morning to get some clothes done.
‘I can’t believe you don’t have a washer and dryer, this is so gross!”
Your words echoed in his head and he wanted to laugh all over again, truth be told he only lived a block away from a laundromat and he didn’t mind taking early morning walks to get laundry done, even if it was an inconvenience.
Jungkook couldn’t say for sure if those plans were still on given what had...happened last night, despite only happening it still felt like a hazy dream that only filled him with dread any
Pulling the sweatshirt over his head he couldn’t stop another yawn escaping him as he padded out from the hallway to where the kitchen and living room were, his eyes landing on you softly as you had already gotten to work. Wordlessly he walked up to you before wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his face against your shoulder, “Koo! I can’t mix this properly when you’re trying to use me like a couch!” You whined out trying to tug away.
Jungkook pressed a kiss against your shoulder as you wiggled once more, only he swayed with you as he whispered in your ear, “Can’t I just have you for breakfast?”
“No!” You spoke sharply, obviously flustered at his words making him chuckle, forever endeared at how easy it was to make you all flustered over something you both had done time after time. Jungkook would never get tired of you, he was sure of it.
Jungkook and you had cooked together this morning and with your gentle, patient direction Jungkook was surprised he had managed to actually be of some use and help to you. Breakfast was….rewarding, in a way.
He could understand why you enjoyed it so much, you had told him recently that it was a pastime hobby to make tasty things. Jungkook had never gotten to experience waking up early as a child and helping the family making an early breakfast or even sitting at a table together bantering while enjoying what had been made together. Jungkook knew you often felt like you couldn’t offer him anything exciting or new, given you were a big introvert and he was the opposite, but little did you know it was the tiny things such as this that was new and he’d forever cherish.
Jungkook rested his cheek against his hand, a soft smile tugging on his lips as he listened to you ramble on about how when you first started cooking you had ended up misreading the recipe and using a half cup of baking soda instead of a teaspoon. You didn’t even realize just how much you gave to him in these little moments, he would always cherish it.
After breakfast Jungkook had loaded up his laundry with you before heading out onto the streets, Jungkook had rationalized that it was still daylight out and it was a busy morning with a large crowd, surely...things would be okay.
Jungkook could tell you were leery of walking on foot but he had managed to convince you, after all, you wanted to have the morning to at least enjoy yourself and Jungkook would provide that to the best of his ability. Yet still, any time it was silent between you both a large cloud hung over the both of you, an unspoken tension that he couldn’t stand.
And so Jungkook did what he always did when he didn’t like the atmosphere, he made conversation, something easy to talk about and he knew you enjoyed decorating, so he volunteered to ask what you wanted to do to the apartment first.
Jungkook only had a tiny smile on his face as you immediately launched in the dozens of small things you wanted to get done first, a wash of relief taking over him at you now being a mildly distracted and the walk only being ten minutes, “That’s another thing i’d like by the way,” Jungkook hummed as he turned to face you, who had just been rambling on about this and that, “A washer and dryer in the apartment!” You exclaimed with a pout now enthusiastic about getting the apartment in better shape, “I don’t wanna have to walk a block every week just so our clothes can be clean! How do you live like this Jungkook?”
Jungkook chuckled a little as he replied back, “Like anyone else! Not everyone can afford that babygirl. Have you stopped to think for a moment that maybe, maybe I’m just too poor to afford it.” He cackled at the sour expression on your face.
“You just dropped over two thousand on a new gaming setup three days ago, Jungkook.” You groaned as you grabbed your head making him smile once more.
“Not a setup, it’s all the parts for a new PC baby, I gotta prep my drip for Cyberpunk 2077 when it comes out. Which takes precedence over a washer and dryer,” He shrugged, just enjoying the way you’d flail and react, “However,” Jungkook exclaimed dramatically before he grinned, “I’ll make an exception, just for you.” He cooed as he wrapped an arm around you making you squirm, “But for real, I enjoy the experience babygirl, it’s not about having to walk once a week. It’s the fact that I get to walk once a week, and just enjoy myself.”
Your nose wrinkled a little making him snort, he knew by your expression you didn’t understand at all but you also clearly didn’t want to invalidate him either. That’s what he really liked about you, he supposed, no matter how much you disliked something, you always tried your best to understand.
For the sake of those you loved. You were delicate like that, or so Jungkook liked to think.
…
“I think, you totally like her,” Jungkook whipped his head around faster than he could actually comprehend Taehyung’s words, just what in the hell did he hear his best friend say? “Just look at you dude, you won’t stop smiling every time you see her.”
Jungkook leered away a little at his words, true it had been nearly a month of training you and there had never been a dull day in between but still… “I smile at everyone…” Jungkook frowned a little as he pointed it out, it was true, he did smile a lot, he liked to smile, it meant he was having a good time.
“Yeah but,” Taehyung curved a brow, looking way too amused to be possible, “You never look like that.” He shrugged a little as Jungkook’s face soured a little, “Come on, don’t look at me like that, it’s the truth, why not just take her on a date. You’d do it to any other girl at this point.”
Jungkook had to think about it for a moment, why hadn’t he taken you out on a date…? He frowned a little before sighing, “Because she isn’t a girl i’d just take on a date and fuck and never see again,” He answered steadily, that was the biggest reason truthfully, he didn’t know how to feel and the last thing he wanted was to let his hormones get the best of him and dive head first into a girl he really knew nothing about and…His jaw clenched a little, look what happened the last time he tried that.
“Isn’t that a good thing…?” Taehyung frowned a little as asked, obviously confused as to why this was a bad thing.
“Because!” Jungkook flailed his hand a little, his back turned to the stage where some assortment of fillers were providing cheap entertainment, “She just…! I don’t…” He inhaled sharply, frustrated at himself, “Look I can’t deal with feelings and shit, not again, not after Soo Jin.” He rolled his eyes a little, “Taking her on a date is like a gateway for all that crap and I can’t deal with it right now.”
Taehyung whistled a little, “That’s a little cold, even for you.” Jungkook puffed a breath as he continued, “And besides, what’s the difference between a hangout and a date anyways? You both go out together all the time as it is…”
“Could you shut the fuck up please and just make my drink.” Jungkook complained, not wanting to be confronted with all of this. He didn’t want to think about because if he did he knew he was gonna freak himself out and end up doing something dumb and hurting you. And more than anything, he didn’t want to hurt you.
So yes, he was going to drag out...whatever this was with you...as long as possible to ensure that he knew who you were, and what your intentions were with him. Not to assume he thought you had any type of intentions, you couldn’t hurt a fly honestly, unless provoked.
But still, if Jungkook had learned any lessons, it was to not jump into love so fast as he had before. Not that he was in love with you...or anything like that. It was just platonic! He enjoyed platonic relationships- friendships! And you were the kindest, sweetest…his eyes trailed to your figure that was seated next to Rosé both of you talking to a table of frat boys who were eating you both up like candy...prettiest...friend he ever had!
“Whatever, all I’m saying is if you break her heart- legally I’m obligated to beat the shit out of you.” Taehyung offered a boxy smile as Jungkook rolled his eyes as he slumped in his seat. He wasn’t going to do anything, Jungkook and you were purely, friends, good friends. That’s all.
….
“She what?”
“Yeah me and Rosé were pretty surprised she jumped to that conclusion.” Jungkook snorted at your words as you swung your feet back and forth, sitting on the seats they had set out in the laundromat while you both waited for your clothing to finish drying.
“Taehyung is not gonna like hearing that, have you told him yet?” Jungkook snorted at the way your expression contorted before you flailed.
“Of course not! Taehyung would freak and he’d probably do something stupid that would only confirm it in Yeri’s mind! I think, we should just leave them be, honestly, if it goes on long enough, Yeri will probably confront him.” You answered honestly, as you hugged the basket against your lap.
“That’s one way it could go,” Jungkok hummed as he fiddled with your shirt making you whine a little, tugging away with him in indication for him to stop only for him to ignore it, “The other could be Yeri leaves and i’ll have my best bachelor bud ba- ow!”
You swatted his arm angrily making him chuckle a little as he pulled away, “What?”
“Don’t talk like that! What do you have against Yeri!?” You cried out pointedly as Jungkook raised his brow in semi surprise.
“Woah wait, I don’t have anything against her-”
“Sure you do! Yeri told me how much of a jerk you were to her when she first started dating Taehyung! And making jokes like that isn’t funny!” Your brows pinched together and Jungkook sighed in exasperation when he realized you were being partially serious, “I just want them to be happy!”
“I don’t have anything against her,” Jungkook replied, this time more stern in his words, “And yes, I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like I wasn’t an asshole to her, I was. But only because I was still bitter about what had happened in the past and I projected that, unfairly onto their relationship. I wasn’t mature in the slightest either about it. I get it, but at the time I was just scared and I didn’t want my friend taken away from me.” He shrugged, “But it’s all in the past now, that’s nearly what? Two years ago now? I’m happy for them, really. I was just being careless when I made the remark.”
You set the basket down to cross your arms as you huffed, obviously still upset but at least Jungkook was honest, or so he thought. Better to be honest then lie and screw everything up.
“What? Are you gonna be mad at me now the rest of the day?” Jungkook shoved your shoulder gently with his in a playful motion he’d often use to try and lighten the mood a little.
He internally sighed at seeing you not budge, your arms crossed as you pressed your lips together, “I won’t,” You mumbled, “I just want you to not be so…” You waved your hand a little as your lips curled with a sigh, “When it comes to Taehyung and Yeri, is it really a crime Taehyung wants to marry her?”
Jungkook paused for a moment, what? He didn’t….didn’t he just explain? He sighed, “What? Do you think that’s a reflection of my view of marriage?” When you didn’t answer him Jungkook sighed in exasperation, “Alright fine, obviously I have to prove my devotion, again.”
“Jungkook what- what are you doing!”
Jungkook couldn’t hold in his laugh at the way you scurried in your seat at the sight of him sliding off his chair to kneel on the ground, grabbing your knees making you jolt, “Let’s go elope baby. Right now- or as soon as the laundry is done-”
“Get up! People are staring!” You hissed out despite giggles escaping you as you tried to push Jungkook away who grabbed your hands, pressing kisses on them as he pulled you down a little with a whisper.
“I will when you say yes. This is what this is about, right? You think I got something against marriage? Well let me prove you wrong baby.” Jungkook growled playfully in your ear as you pulled away.
A loud beep cut him off, making both him and you jump as the washer that held both of your clothes stopped, “I’m not finished with you yet baby.” Jungkook had that dorky half smile on his face as he stood up to get the clothes out of the washer and into the dryer.
Marriage huh...For a brief moment, Jungkook wanted to snort at the notion, him? Marriage? He never really gave it any genuine thought mainly because he never thought he’d be worthy of marrying, well….anyone.
And for the longest time he didn’t even believe in marriage, the idea of being together with someone, forever really made him squirm when he was younger, possibly because his only example of marriage was his parents and he wasn’t even sure if they were married in the first place.
A lot of examples throughout Jungkook’s life were bad examples. It was often difficult for him to try and accomplish a new idea without anything to lead by. But…his eyes trailed back to your figure who was still reeling about what had just happened. Maybe…
Just maybe…
Pushing the button on the dryer Jungkook plopped back in his seat going to speak to you but he paused when he noticed how stiff you were, your eyes were on the door to the laundromat where people were going in and out of view on the busy street, “What baby?” Jungkook furrowed his brows a little, confused as to why you looked so cautious all of a sudden.
You looked at him briefly as if consulting something in your mind on what to say before you leaned back down in your seat, your eyes on your fingers as you fiddled with them the way you always did when you got nervous, “...Maybe...we should go to the police Jungkook...you know...about what’s going on, what happened…”
Jungkook paused in his tracks. Police? He didn’t mean to immediately frown but…”Baby listen…” He sighed as he lowered his voice, not wanting to dismiss you as easily as he wanted too because he knew you genuinely cared and you were in a dangerous position being together with him, naturally you’d have a say so in what you both chose to do but...
Jungkook grabbed your hands tenderly as he spoke softly, “I...If it could be avoided I really don’t want the police involved- if they knew about my involvement in…” He didn’t even want to finish his sentence, would the police even care about how long it had been? Or the fact that he had been blackmailed into doing it for his sister's safety?
Jungkook couldn’t take the risk, he couldn’t. There was too much unknown and risk for him to feel confident they would help rather than simply throw him in prison. You mirrored his expression as you sighed, your shoulders deflating a little as your bottom lip quivered the way it did when you were trying to not let yourself get upset.
“I don’t think they’d do that Jungkook…!” You whispered and Jungkook couldn’t stand to look at the way your eyes were pleading, “I just- I don’t want anything to happen to you or- or to me! And- and maybe they could at least push these people back, right? I mean...We can’t keep taking risks like this.”
Jungkook lowered his gaze, despite his own fear he could never say no to you, not when you were pleading with him like this, especially when it was this dangerous. He ran a hand through his hair as he closed his eyes, “...I’ll think about it.” He relented, “Just let me think it over tonight okay?”
It was the best he could do, Jungkook was only human. He wished he could be so much more, for his friends, for you, but he couldn’t. Your expression was still dim but you nodded in respect of his decision before leaning against him, your head resting against his shoulder. Jungkook let his own head rest atop of yours before pressing a kiss against your head while whispering, “Everything is gonna be okay baby.”
Cherry Bomb was packed as ever, Jungkook had been helping out the majority of the night and truthfully, he enjoyed the rush of keeping up with lights, making sure girls were on schedule, he liked the busy atmosphere and more than anything he loved watching you dance and swing around a pole.
You were practically blowing competition out of the park left and right and your votes were only going up on Cherry’s twitter account. Not that Jungkook ever had a doubt in his mind about you taking first place, but seeing it on a screen really hit home that you were his baby and dammit could you do anything if you wanted too.
“I think she’s gonna win!” Rosé squealed in her seat as she clapped her hands, “It’ll be so nice having another female soloist to help with the crowds!” Jungkook leaned back in his seat, saying nothing but his smile spoke for itself.
“Maybe we’ll finally stop having to listen to Sejin bitch about our numbers dropping.” Seokjin yawned as he stretched out, “She’s pulled a big crowd on her own, who knows.”
Jungkook clapped his hands together, “What did I say in the beginning?” He hummed as he furrowed his brows, that dorky boyish smile on his face making the others groan, “What was that? That I ah- said she’d make us money? That she’d be amazing? Hmmm? That’s the sound of me being right.” Jungkook chuckled as he listened to the crowd whistling as you exited the stage.
Jungkook would never stop being proud of your accomplishments. Getting out of his chair he looked down at everyone prominently with a smirk as he crossed his arms before exiting to go find you. He was already semi hard from your performance and he wasn’t about to wait to get home. The bathroom stall was just gonna have to work for tonight.
The staffing hallway was just as bustling as ever but things had calmed down admittedly, they had put you towards the ladder end of the contest so they could still keep a crowd for the majority of the night and now that you were finished things would soon be lowkey. Jungkook pushed the door open to Rosé’s dressing room as she had been kind enough to let you use it for the competition.
Jungkook would’ve offered us own but...His nose twitched in an attempt to wrinkle, it was still messy in his room and they were still working on getting it cleaned up. You were sitting in your seat, taking off the earrings you had been wearing before a smile tugged on your lips at the sight of your boyfriend, “What?” You smiled, somewhat shyly as you adjusted your robe.
Jungkook strutted over only to lean down, his arms around you as he pressed a kiss against your shoulder, “I’m gonna let you choose where I’m gonna fuck you baby.”
“Jungkook!” You jolted with a squeak at his crude words, that boyish smile on his face as he looked back at you in the mirror, “Jungkook!” You reiterated as you twisted around to look at him, your face warm as he raised his brows semi amused.
Jungkook let his lips press against your neck as he chuckled against your warm skin, “I said what I said, I’m gonna go take a quick smoke and when I come back you better have an answer, yeah?”
He smiled down at the way your eyes squinted a little at the mention of smoke, reaching up you pulled Jungkook back down, pressing your lips against his too quick for him to truly enjoy the taste of the vanilla chapstick you wore with the maroon lipstick that was probably transferred to his own lips, “You’re gonna get lung cancer if you keep smoking.”
Jungkook puffed a breath, his lips threatening to curl at the way you were looking up at him softly, “I’m here for a good time, not a long time babygirl. Think carefully!” You shook your head as you watched him exit the room.
You were happy to be performing again and having some resemblance of normalcy back, even if it was just on stage. Not to mention all the money you were making throughout the contest. Checking your phone your lips curled a little, you were currently in third place in ranking at the moment. No it wasn’t the best, but you’d take it.
Glancing at the clock you hummed, noticing it had been about two minutes, your mind lingering on Jungkook’s words as you shook your head, a shy smile tugging on your lips. Well...he did enjoy the car after all...Fiddling with your phone you looked down at your lock screen once more.
Time slowly ticked and eventually after five minutes you frowned, Jungkook normally didn’t take this long to smoke unless he got held up. You sighed, thinking back to your confrontation with Seulgi and how hurt she had seemed, as if it was your fault Jungkook fell in love with you...Well...you guessed in some ways it was. But still...she wouldn’t go out of her way to harass him tonight, would she? She had been talking shit earlier in the dressing room, hence you had decided to move into Rosé’s dressing room as she didn’t mind and you couldn’t be held responsible for whatever you did to her.
You still didn’t fully understand her mindset, her words lingering in your head. Was she really just that big of a sore loser? The moment you stood up for yourself was the moment you threatened her very being? You just wanted to understand.
Standing up you finished changing before deciding to go look for Jungkook, his absence after five minutes beginning to make you a little anxious to see him once more. Walking through the hallways you looked around, everyone was busy and with somewhere to be and yet you still couldn’t find him. Not in the dressing rooms, the bathrooms...Well, he did say he was going for a smoke.
You rubbed your head, who would be out in the back exit beside him? He was the only person you ever used the back entrance anyway. The hall was dark and the red beam of LED cast down making the walls feel more narrow as you frowned cautiously pushing the door open to reveal the dark night sky and dingy alleyway that always made you uncomfortable.
That’s all you saw though. Jungkook nowhere to be found.
Panic flooded your veins at the sight of the pack of cigarettes laying on the ground and a half smoked bud. He was gone. Jungkook was gone. You could be overreacting but your gut was telling you otherwise, with shaking hands you yanked the door back open running room to room and once again, he was nowhere to be found.
Opening the door to the main building where all the customers were, you hurried towards the bar, overwhelm beginning to flood your body as you desperately blinked back tears, pushing through people to get to the bar that had seemed pretty calm now that the majority of clients were leaving.
“Hey! I’m glad we caught you just in time before you left-” A familiar face was sitting at the bar across from Taehyung as he greeted you but both men faltered at the sight of your choked voice as you closed your eyes, warm wet tears beginning to spill down your face.
“Jungkook is gone! I- I can’t find him anywhere!”
Note: yayyy!!! another chapter over and it’s gotten even worse!! we only have two chapters left guys I’m not prepared!!! :( lemme know what you think so far and ty for reading!
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𝙿𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚜 & 𝙿𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚃𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚜
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𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍: (ANON) Ohhhhh I want to send in something too! 😍 sorry for another Bucky one but he stole my heart. So he’s your boyfriend and you’re just a normal civilian but you barely saw each other lately (missions, your annoying office job), so he decides to surprise you. He sneaks into your apartment and prepares a pillow fort, makes your favorite dinner and all and when you come home it’s all just fluffy and you cuddle and enjoy your time together? 🤗 and if you liiiike maybe a little proposal 🤭 thank you so much
𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: super fluffy smut, like ew lmao, pillow fort sex,
𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: timeline’s fucked teehee; whew, man i’m so scatter-brianed right now y’all i’m so sorry for being so crazy thanks for baring with me yall love you lots, my little bugs xx
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You walked through your apartment door huffing in frustration. Today at work was very annoying. You applied for the position of Chief Operating Officer; it’s basically the overseer of the company, you would essentially make sure everything’s in visual working order. You felt confident in the position and you showed integrity and potential to really excel in the job.
However, on your way home passing the parking lot to get to your car on this fine Friday evening, you noticed a little commotion going on in your boss’s car. The CEO. Let’s just say you figured out why he’s been so lenient to your competitor.
You threw your purse on the couch and kicked your shoes off. You went into the kitchen and grabbed a nice cold bottle of water. You went back into the living room after turning the light on and sat comfortably on the couch.
You pulled your phone out and decided to call Bucky. He was probably super busy on his mission but you gave it a shot anyway. You let the phone ring but no pick up. You sighed but sent a message saying how much you loved him and miss him. You and Bucky had been together for years. You had been through everything together.
Unbeknownst to you, Bucky sat adorably underneath his makeshift fort that he created in the middle of your bedroom anxiously waiting for your arrival. He heard you walk through the front door and became super antsy and excited. Practically squirming like a child under his makeshift pillow fort.
When you didn’t come into the bedroom, he grew a bit worried. His phone suddenly rang loudly and he muted his phone lightning fast. He paused for a second waiting to see if maybe you heard it before he declined your call. Not long after he got your message and his heart ached for you. He loved you so much he couldn’t even put it into words.
You shifted on the couch again ready to turn the television on to distract you from all the craziness in your life so far.
“Why didn’t you come to the room?” Bucky said, coming out from the darkness.
“Buck!” you gasped in fright. There was a brief moment where you two stared at each other motionless before you smiled and started giggling as did Bucky.
“What are you doing here?” you laughed.
“I have a surprise for you baby,” he led you to the bedroom. When you opened the door wider your mouth dropped in awe at the gesture before your eyes.
“Is that a fort?” you smiled.
“Yeah, come on,” Bucky pulled you underneath.
There were blankets and pillows under a large white sheet with hanging lights. He pulled a small basket filled with snacks and candy and your smile grew wider. You cuddled under the blankets and you pulled out your laptop to watch movies together.
During the movie Bucky’s hand wandered under your shirt and as hard you tried to focus on the movie, you just couldn’t think about anything but his warm fingers tracing your skin. You peaked up at him and Bucky’s eyes were trained on the screen in front of you.
You buried your face in the crook of his neck and you could tell Bucky smiled at the gesture.
“I love you, baby,” you whispered.
“I love you too,” he rubbed his hand up and down your back.
You hiked your leg over his waist to lay entire on top of him. Bucky chuckled and rested his hands on top of your hips. You just gave him a cheeky smile biting your bottom lip while you played with his hair.
“What is it baby?” he asked you.
“Nothing; work’s been kinda rough,” you said.
“How come?” he asked, making you huff and sigh loudly; he chuckled as he prepared himself for your upcoming rant.
“Well, I applied for the COO position because I really enjoy working for the company and the owner is very friendly and the environment is great. I thought I was gonna get a fair chance to get the position; I feel like I really have the skills for what it takes to help run this company. But I noticed that the CEO, the owner’s kid, seems to be very adamant about hiring Jess,” you explained.
“Jess? She doesn’t strike me as someone who wants to be Chief Operating Officer,” he chuckled.
Although Jess was somewhat intelligent, not in an insulting way, she’s made it clear to many coworkers that she doesn’t enjoy her job too much. So it was surprising to hear when she applied to compete for the position as well despite the previous complaints. Well now considering why she did it in the first place, you applaud her ambition. After all, all chiefs were expected to work alongside and closely to each other.
“She’d get to and is practically already ‘working’ with Daniel,” Daniel being the CEO’s name.
“No,” Bucky gasped in disbelief.
“Yes,” you chuckled.
“Oh, well. That doesn’t seem too fair.”
“Well, no, but I don’t know. I mean she has every right to date our boss; I just wish his decision wasn’t being affected by that, you know?” you said.
“I totally get it,” he cupped your face, “You’re gonna get the job, baby. I just know it.”
“Thanks, Buck.”
Bucky kissed you gently and your body relaxed onto him. His hand trailed up your shirt and sent chills down your spine. The hand that rested lightly on your face wrapped around your neck as Bucky slowly flipped you over and towered over you.
He kept kissing you softly and your hands sneaked under his shirt, your finger tracing the contours of his muscular torso. His hips settled between your legs and you could feel his prominent bulge poking at your core even through the thick material of his jeans and your pants as well.
Bucky released your lips and traced his nose along the curve of your jaw line and down your neck. He licked and sucked gently on the spot that made you gasp and moan and marked you leaving a dark purple and red hickey for you.
His hand went under your shirt as well but ultimately just pushed it up and over your head tossing it behind him as you two were still laying under the fort. His lips pressed against your chest before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. His tongue circled the perked bud before sucking and releasing your nipple with a lewd pop.
He kissed you down before coming in between your thighs and curled his fingers over your pants pulling them down when you lifted your hips for him. He didn’t ignore the wetness that was spread around your pussy, bringing a finger to circle your hole.
You hips wiggled and your walls clenched around nothing, desperate for him to insert a finger and fuck you. You looked down at him with furrowed brows and your bottom lip between your teeth; your expression silently begging Bucky to do something. He smirked devilishly and leaned down to lick your clit ever so lightly making you groan in frustration and need.
“Bucky please,” you whimpered.
“Please what baby?” he whispered.
“Bucky, please do something, anything.”
“You gotta tell me exactly what you need baby,” he taunted.
“Bucky, use your fingers please; fuck me.”
He pushed a flesh finger passed your folds but you didn’t want that.
“Not those, please,” you whispered timidly.
“Oh, you want my metal fingers? Is that right?” you nodded shyly.
“Words,” he commanded.
“Yes, I want your metal ones,” you said shakily.
“As you wish, my love.”
He moved his flesh fingers and spread your folds before bringing his metal finger up to your entrance. When you pushed in, you hissed at the cold feeling of them inside you but you loved it. Bucky leaned forward again to lick your clit and made your hips jolt against him, making him chuckle at the reaction he pulled from you.
“Oh, Bucky, that feels so good,” you moaned.
“You're doing so good baby. Taking my metal finger so well. Think we can add another?” he kissed your inner thighs.
“Ugh, yes!”
“Good girl.”
He brought another finger and inserted easily slipped passed your folds as did the first finger. His lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked making you practically scream in pleasure. You breathed heavily whining as you got close to your release. Bucky’s tongue circled your clit again quickly this time as he could tell you were very close from the way you clenched and throbbed around his fingers.
“Buck, I’m gonna cum,” you whined.
“Let go, pretty baby. I want to see you gush all over my fingers,” he said, his voice raspy.
You moaned as your legs shook; your stomach contracting as you came. Bucky lapped up everything that flowed from you and crawled out the small fort to strip completely crawling back in with a goofy smile on his face.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispered.
“You are too,” you said tiredly with a smile.
“No you,” he challenged.
“No, you!” you giggled.
“I fucking you so much,” he smiled widely from ear to ear.
“I love you too,” you teared up.
“I don't know what I’d do without you,” you whispered.
“Well, it’s a good thing you’ll never need to know.”
Bucky’s hard dick poked at your entrance and you were both eager to please each other. You lined his cock and slowly Bucky pushed himself in pulling moans from you both simultaneously. His hips molded against yours like a perfect puzzle piece as he bottomed out.
You tugged on his shoulders silently asking him to move. He moved at a swift pace, his hips slapping against yours making indecent and almost pornographic sounds that echoed in your apartment. Your moans didn’t help to diminish the filthy noises.
“Fuck baby, you’re gonna let everyone in this building know whose fucking you this good? Let ‘em know how good you're taking my cock? Such a good girl,” he whispered vulgarly in your ear.
“Fuck, Bucky,” your eyes were screwed shut and you knew how Bucky got when you didn’t look at him during sex.
“Hey, look at me,” he growled.
“I can’t,” you cried, tears crawling from your tightly shut eyes.
“Come on, I thought you were my good girl? You still gonna be my good girl?” he said.
“Yes! I’m your good girl, fuck!” you opened your eyes and Bucky’s forehead fell against yours.
“Tell me how you feel baby girl. I wanna hear ya keep talking to me,” he panted.
“Fuck, it feels so good. You fill me up so fucking good, baby,” you whined.
“Yeah?” he smiled.
“Yes! I’m gonna come, shit,” you moaned loudly.
“Go on, let go baby. I got you,” Bucky said.
His thrusts became faster chasing both your releases and soon you body shook under his caging arms. His hips stuttered and spurts of hot cum coated your velvety walls. Bucky collapsed over you and both of your heavy breathing slowed. He looked at you and found you smiling sleepily with drowsy eyes and he knew he had to clean you up before you fully fell asleep.
“Come on, baby we gotta get you cleaned up.”
“No, I’m sleepy,” you whined.
“I know but you’re sweaty and you’ve my cum dripping out of you.”
“So?” you said with your eyes closed making Bucky chuckle. He grabbed your ankles and pulled out of the fort and picked you up to set on the bathroom counter. He turned on the bath and when it was steamy and ready he picked you up and carefully sat in the tub. He washed your hair first and climbed in the tub sitting behind you.
He quickly washed his body before taking the washcloth full of soap and lathered it against your warm skin. He cleaned your body not without a bit of teasing, moving delicately over your nipples and drawing out between your thighs. You tried your best to not squirm but ultimately jolted when he applied the smallest bit of pressure around your core.
When you finished you dried yourself off before heading back into your room crawling under the fort that thankfully stayed intact.
“Can we sleep here tonight?” you asked shyly.
“You liked it?” he smiled.
You nodded gingerly with a grin, reaching out to him with grabby hands desperate for him to join you. He got comfortable letting your arm rest gently on his chest and your head on his shoulder. Your leg wrapped around his and tangled themselves. Bucky smiled to himself knowing you were probably already asleep now.
He looked down at your peaceful sleeping face and pressed small kisses to the top of your head and your forehead. He reached behind him under the pillow surprised you hadn’t found the small velvet box hiding between them.
He pulled out a beautiful ring that he was planning on giving to you whilst you were awake. Preferably when you would have walked into the bedroom with a beautiful surprise look on your stunning face. He got distracted when you pulled out your laptop and he just basked in the time and attention he was getting from you.
He pulled the ring from the box and slipped it on your delicate finger. He knows you’re going to say yes. He loves you so much and he knows you love him just as much. There was no hesitation that he wanted to propose to you; spend the rest of his life with you, it was a dream come true.
He couldn't wait until morning when you’d wake up as gorgeous as you always do beside him and notice the ring. He could hear your squeals already. He held you tightly and closed his eyes feeling the happiest he’s ever been in years. You made his life better and he loved you forever for that. Anticipating the next morning, he fell into a peaceful sleep with you, the love of his life, tuck perfectly in his arms.
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TAGLIST:
@mathletemadison
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky fluff#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes smut#marvel smut#bucky barnes fluff
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Can u do a Tom Holland x actress reader
And there fwb and they get caught by the cast
:)) I generally don’t read much of it, but I think I’m starting to like fwb trope hahah hope you like it!!
Pairing: actor!tom x actress!reader
Warnings: mention of sex (+18), fwb plot, language.
"Shit, baby", Tom moans, supporting his head in the crook of your neck as he empties himself inside of you, on the condom. "My best girl".
Your breathing is still heavy, chest going up and down with some struggle as you run a hand over the hair that fell on your face. Tom holds your body firmly against the wall of his dressing room, one of your legs wrapped around his hips to keep yourself steady. You close your eyes, letting the bliss of your recent orgasm take over your body completely, feeling Tom getting out of you to get rid of the condom.
He walks towards the bin that is at the corner of your dress room, discarding it before coming back to you, rolling his pants back on and buttoning his shirt up again. Looking at you, who's currently tidying your dress up and brushing a hand relentlessly through your hair, he smiles, feeling like that was the most perfect sign of his day — a after-sex glow on your face, a thin layer of sweat glistening over your bare chest while you carried to dress up again.
"What is it?", you ask as soon as you catch his stare. Tom blushes and shakes his head as he averts his gaze to the ground.
"Uh, nothing" he mutters, fidgeting his hands. "You just look really pretty".
A smile almost makes its way to your face, but you make an effort to hide it, turning around to pretend being busy while gathering some of your belongings together.
"You've already fucked me, Holland, no need to play the charmer now", you mocked, and you can't lie to yourself about the light press on your chest as you say yourself saying something so harsh to him.
That wasn't the truth. You liked it when Tom said something nice besides the couple of praises when you were having sex. If you were being honest with yourself, you liked him more than you were willing to admit. However, this whole friend with benefits were long settled, since the first week of filming your movie together, and you couldn't just come up with your feelings now. The main rule was: never fall for each other.
It was supposed to be just sex. You and Tom were single and horny, and your work would stress the fuck out of you, so why not? Both of you were young, hot and the sex was amazing. There was nothing to worry about.
Well, except for the fact that you'd fall asleep with the thought of him every single night now.
Tom, however, wasn't buying your toughness so easily. He knew you had built some walls because of past relationships, after so many disappointments, but he was willing to try and tear them all down.
Sighing, he came closer to you, putting light hands on your hips and feeling you tense a little. "I'm not playing, love", he said, planting a soft kiss on your bare shoulder. "You're so pretty. And I'm not trying to be a charmer, you just deserve to know that".
You don't know what to say. Though you didn't want to show it, you felt flattered. Obviously, it was Tom, the most handsome man on that studio, the most handsome man you knew. He felt attracted to you and you couldn't help but feel happy for the fact that it wasn't just because he got to have sex with you, but just because he truly thinks you're beautiful.
"Thanks", you murmur, turning around again, pursing your lips as you feel your cheeks growing hot under his stare.
That was the thing about having an affair with someone you liked that much. It didn't matter, the fact that you were moaning his name just a couple of minutes ago, whispering dirty things on his ear and begging him, you could easily get flustered over something much more innocent and simple.
Tom smiled and took your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it and bringing to his lips to press a kiss. "I like you, y/n. A lot".
You release a shaky breath and give him a small smile. "You're so cheeky", he laughs and you smile wider. "I like you too, div. But don't flatter yourself too much. Now shut up, we're gonna be late".
He shakes his head while chuckling and guides you towards the door, hands still on yours. His dressing room was settle in a very empty aisle, which made it easier for you to sneak back to the set without being caught together.
Putting his hand on the door's handle, Tom's lips quirck up as he gives you a charming smile. "Y'know, I was thinking that maybe we could a nice dinner before I pop down to your place tomorr-"
Your eyes wide as soon as he opens the door, mouth going dry as you stare to the small crowd at the door. Jacob, Zendaya, Harrison and a few more crew members were leaning towards the door, smirks plastered on their faces and giggling like schoolers while whispering to one another. When they saw you, they straightened their backs, coughing a little, but didn't make any effort to hide the fact that they were listening to both of you.
Tom had his mouth hanging agape, eyes wide, trying to think about what to say.
"What the hell are you all doing here?!" You shout, too desperate with being caught to care about your tone.
"I told you!" Jacob yelled, jumping and pointing his finger to you and Tom.
"Yeah, think I gotta pay you now" Zendaya laughed, crossing her arms and clicking her tongue as she looked to both of you. "Congrats, fellas, you just made me lose a stupid bet".
"What the fuck?" Tom gasped, slipping his hand from yours, which you only realized to be holding now.
"Yeah, Jacob said you two were fucking, but Z bet 50 bucks you weren't", Harrison said, still laughing.
Your face went red. Your coworkers just caught you and Tom having sex in your workplace. What a way to show off your professionalism.
Seeing you completely ashamed, Tom furrowed and grabbed your hand, rolling his eyes.
"You guys, fuck off and mind your own business" he said, walking down the aisle and gesturing his head for you to follow him. "We're heading to set now".
You sighed, lips pursed as you and Tom walked side by side, too deep in thoughts to mind the fact that you were still holding hands with him in front of everyone.
"You alright?", Tom asked, concern filling his voice as he slowed his steps down. You look at him, and relax at the sign of his soft wrinkles.
You give him a small smile.
"Yeah. Just didn't want everyone to find out like that", you say, squeezing his hand. Taking a deep breath, you feel yourself easing a little when he takes your free hand and intertwine your fingers together.
"Honestly, I don't give a fuck", he shrugged. "Yeah, they know about us, and what? I love being around you, y/n, and we're adults, we know what we are doing, right?"
You nod twice, giving in to his soft eyes staring right into yours. "Thank you, Tom".
He smiles softly. "Any time, darling".
Biting your lips, you try to hide a smirk as you remember about your previous conversation. "So, about that dinner..."
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Taglist:
@pinkrockstar19
@onyourgoddamnleft
@spideyspeaches
@zspideyy
@miraclesoflove
@marlenetough
@nsxvision
@siriuslyslyslytherin
@mathletemadison
@tomshufflepuff
#tom holland#tom holland blurbs#tom holland imagines#tom holland fic#tom x reader#tom holland smut#actor!tom#actress!reader#request#tomsbabymomma
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Lean On Me | drabble
Based on this request: Hi. Can you do a Min Yoongi scenario where they’re like coworkers and they also travel to work together among their other coworkers and y/n develops a crush on him but she tries to ignore it because he’s intimidating and cold. But little does she know that he has a crush on her too. And one day she has to sit next to him in the minivan and she ends up falling off to sleep and wakes up with her head resting on his shoulder and his head resting on her head. Can you make it fluffy. I hope it wasn’t weirdly specific. ^_~
Pairing: yoongi x reader
Genre: fluff
Note: I swear, I kept on reading this request because it’s so cute aaaaaaa. Thank you for sending this request last last month, I think. Sorry for only writing it now. I've recently started my job and I had really little to no time to write. :( Shshs,, thanks for waiting for me shshs. Enjoy!! I adore y’all!!
Who knew this wedding that you and your team were assigned to handle would be a little more amazing than the previous ones?
You have been working for this catering company for 6 years now. You've organized over a hundred gatherings, birthdays, wedding receptions, debuts and more. What you've always looked forward to the most was the satisfied smiles of the celebrants; making them feel like they're in their own fantasy or fairytale. If you were happy then, you were even happier when Yoongi joined the team.
Yoongi is the sound director; he always has a playlist perfect for every event and even for the person/celebrant. He is really good at what he does, he is hardworking and someone easy to get along with. You admire him for that, because he’s kind and very soft-spoken.
Despite being the event handler, you’ve never really interacted with him personally other than the office work talk like, “what song do you think will fit the theme?”, “Yoongi-ssi, is everything set?” or like, “Nice working with you!” Other than that; practically none, both your awkward asses won’t let you interact.
Little did you know, a wedding will change that.
Today was a wedding beyond your experience; it was a beach wedding held in Busan. Since your catering company was in Seoul, you and your team had to take the company’s mini bus and endure 4.5 hours of traveling. It is kinda good tho because you get to mentally prepare yourself for any issue that may occur during the event. Fighting~ you thought as you boarded the van.
The day went by nicely and ended with smiles and cheering from the audience to the newly-wedded couple. It was fun. The family of both parties are very fun and welcoming, they even asked your catering team to eat and join the games. Have I mentioned it was fun? Because it is! You became friends with the bride and her maid of honor and talked about how the DJ guy keeps looking at you whenever he plays a song for the wedded couple.
You quickly denied because he’s probably just being a little strict or annoyed that you were not being professional or whatever. But still, the day was too great to be ruined by a stare.
As of 8:43pm, the guests have already left the venue; your team was loading the van with the equipment you used earlier. You yawned whilst checking for any left belongings; after knowing there’s none, you stretched before proceeding to board the mini bus. When you got there, the only vacant seat was beside none other than your crush, Min Yoongi. You mentally slapped yourself, this isn’t high school, Y/n. fucking snap out of it. You thought as you slowly and nervously approached the vacant seat. It seems that he didn’t notice that you have taken the seat beside him because he just kept his gaze far on his side window; that’s when you noticed he was wearing his airpods. You sighed, another chance of talking to him; wasted.
46 mins into the drive, you were already dozing off from the draining events of today. Yoongi noticed how your awkward position would cause you a stiff neck so he, being the gentleman he is, lent his immaculate broad shoulder for you to rest on. On the outside, it would look like he didn’t care at all; he is really good at keeping a poker face. But on the inside, he is so giddy; he wants to scream, kick his blanket, punch his pillow and hug it right after that. His crush, the most independent woman he knows, is practically leaning on him or like depending on him like he is some sort of her safe haven.
After 2 hrs, the mini bus made its stop because the driver needed a bathroom break. The halt made you flinch out of your dreamland and the strong but sweet scent of sunflower invaded your nose which followed your knowledge on the thing that was pressed heavily on your head; turns out, Yoongi had fallen asleep too. You were shocked at how close you two were, but you didn’t dare to move; instead, you closed your eyes and smiled, maybe he is not as cold and intimidating as he seems, you thought as you unconsciously leaned into him more for warmth.
What more could you look forward to after this?
#yoongi x reader#bts x reader#bts yoongi#bts x you#bts x y/n#yoongi x you#yoongi x y/n#bts drabble#bts fluff#yoongi drabble#yoongi edit#yoongi icons#bts x army#yoongi x army
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A Rock - Angel Reyes
A/N : The amount of positive feedback i got yesterday/today was ridiculous and it warmed my heart so much what the fuck 😭😭😭😭 so i wrote another! i’m glad y’all liked my first one so much and i hope y’all enjoy this one too!
trigger warning : none? maybe some swears. but that’s all.
word count : 1608
“A rock?” Ezekiels voice was the first to be heard, his tone laced thickly with judgement as his brows pulled together, mirroring the tone he spoke with almost exactly. Angel had just finished telling him, Coco, and Gilly that he brought back a small rock from the desert. It had a few harder corners to it, it was a lovely brown colour that clashed with the grey shades and the few shiny bits that glistened as it laid in the palm of Angels hand, reflecting softly in the bright California sun.
“that’s fucking stupid.” Coco chimed in, he couldn’t quite place why in the world Angel would want to give her a rock, that wouldn’t impress her, not even in the slightest, if that’s what he was even trying to do.
“yeah, why the hell would she want a fucking rock?” asked Gilly next, his brows raised, his dark brown eyes stuck on the piece of earth in the mans hand until the taller Mayan pulled his hand back, balling his lengthy fingers around it.
“She likes rocks.” it was a simple answer, a soft huff blew from his flared nostrils as his friends words slowly started to discourage him, perhaps this wasn’t the best idea. Was it really that stupid? They had been out on a run, doing business in the blaring sun when the small stone caught his eye, half buried in the sand of the desert and he just had to give it to her. “She once talked about crystals, and shit, and this is shiny, close enough, right?” he shrugged.
“i still think you’re stupid.” Coco chimed in just before his hand dove to the inside of his kutte, pulling a pack of cigarettes out, picking out a single one before shoving it back in. Placing the stick between his thin lips, he cupped his hand around the flame as he brought the lighter to it, lighting it. Taking in a deep drag, he shoved the lighter back where it belonged and took a deep drag, ringlets of smoke eliciting from his lips. Angels eyes rolled back, listening to his friends bash his ideas made him not wanting to even present the rock, what if she thought he was equally as stupid they were expressing he was? His mind riddled with ‘what if’s’ as they continued the banter, toning it out until she entered the room.
“who’s stupid?” she asked, a dirtied rag thrown over her shoulder. With two long braids cascading down her back, she wiped her hands clean of grease as she walked into the clubhouse, though, that didn’t do much for the streaks of oil running up her toned arms as she went behind the bar for a bottle of water. “and why’re we standing here gossiping like teenage girls?” she asked, raising one of her perfectly arched brows, she cracked the seal, opening the water before downing a majority of it.
“Angel.” Ezekiel noted, his eyes flit from his older brother, to the woman standing behind the counter, she was doused in sweat, dirt jammed in the creases of her forehead as her brows pushed together quizzically.
“why?” she asked once she set down the water, her hand wrapped around the base of the bottle, shutting it tightly before she crossed her arms over her chest. Looking between the four, Angel was sending his brother glares that could kill, Ezekiels smirk was bright and shit eating, Gilly looked all bright eyed and bushy tailed while Coco didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the situation, but instead the curve of his coworkers hips.
Winnie had been working at the scrapyard for months now, and she was nothing short of a sight for sore eyes. She was confident in who she was, and it showed in how she carried herself. She got on well with the Mayans and the customers loved her, she usually held down the fort along side Chucky when the rest of them were off on business. She hardly asked questions about their work, she knew enough, and respected the privacy that came with what they did. Her uncle, Taza, ensured she got the job, but she would’ve anyways, her work ethic was impeccable and it showed in her references from previous jobs. Her friendships between her, and the Mayans that she’d work with day in and day out, were blossoming constantly.
Her questions were met with silence, up until Ez spoke, avoiding his older brothers menacing glares. “Angel brought you a rock back from where we were today and we think it’s stupid because who likes dusty ass rocks?” he spewed his words quickly, as Angel raised his fist to strike his brother for running his mouth, Gilly snickered quietly and Win’s eyebrows raised. She lifted her hand, placing it on top of Angels balled up fist, and slowly lowered it. His defensive posture quickly, and visibly, softened. His eyes shifted from him, to her, something about her gentle touch against his hand tamed the quickly rising temper that came from the embarrassment the younger Reyes intended on putting him through.
“You brought me a rock?” she asked, there was a soft sparkle in her eyes, one he wasn’t sure he had seen before, but spread a warmth in his chest never the less. Angel nodded slightly, she wasn’t sure if she spotted a hint of hesitation in it, but the corners of her lips lifted into a soft little smile.
“Uh, yeah.” he said, after her hand dropped from his, he almost immediately missed her warm touch against him, but wouldn’t dare show that. Especially with his brothers still standing around him. His free arm reached back, nervously scratching the back of his neck, the neatly cut strands raking against his rough fingers.
“Well give it to me, then.” she spoke in a duh tone of voice, and when he suddenly scrambled not to drop it, he dropped it in her hand. Shoving both his hands now in his pockets, he tried to play off the fumbling mistakes off, playing cool. If she didn’t like it? Who cares. Not Angel, definitely not Angel.
“Agate.” she grinned after examining the rock, she brushed her gentle fingertips over its smooth sides, grazing the rougher corners gently. It was gorgeous, it shone so brightly even in the poorly lit room, it’d definitely fit nicely with her little collection she bad started. She had all kinds of rocks and crystals lining the windows of her home, they brought her comfort, for multiple reasons. “Thank you, Angel. This is a gorgeous rock.” she beamed.
“Ha!” he nearly shouted, pointing his finger at Gilly and Ez, much like a four year old, the next words to come out of his mouth were “I told you so!” and “In your face!”
“Oh come on!” she could’ve sworn those words that came from Coco, were a mix of whining and very obvious disbelief. “What kind of chick digs rocks?” he asked, his shoulders slouched as he focused his eyes on her.
Opening her mouth to say something to tbe heavily tattooed man, Angel beat her to it. “she does, she collects them, she was talking about it once, something about never having time to go out and look for them but she loves them around her.” he said, pulling the memory from the back of his mind, there was a day not too long ago where Win would go off on rants when Chucky brought up the stone she kept on her, tucked in her pocket, she considered it her lucky rock and carried it wherever she would go, just in case.
She watched him in disbelief, her eyes wide in awe as he defended his decision to his brothers, who looked equally bored as they did annoyed that his seemingly ridiculous actions really wowed the woman they’d all been flirting with, for months now. Being almost entirely overwhelmed, a flare of bravery ran through her stark blue veins like adrenaline. Reaching her dirtied, but soft hands up, she cupped his stubbled jaw in her palms and pulled him closer to her. Standing on her toes, she met him half way, her lips clashing with his as she kissed him, it wasn’t long at all, but it means something. There was a pull between the two and the moment their lips parted, Angel wanted to dip in and steal another from her lips, yet a part of him was too stunned to do so when their kiss did end. He didn’t expect to end up here, but now that he had, he never wanted to turn back. “thank you” the soft whisper fell from her lips before she pulled back entirely, with the rock in her hand still, she grabbed her water bottle off the counter, and headed out of the clubhouse. Her shift was over, and she was now on her way home with a smile that would be stuck to her lips for days from now. Angel? Stood there, still in utter shock. Coco, Gilly and Ez were equally as bewildered by what just happened.
Maybe it wasn’t just the rock, and the sheer beauty in the colours that it contained, maybe it wasn’t that it was shiny. But maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that he listened to at least one of your stupid rants, and he remembered it. Maybe it was that Angel looked at this distinctive rock and he thought of you. Whatever it was, it meant the world to you.
“fuck, maybe I needa start bringing chicks rocks..” noted Gilly, the others nodding in silent agreement.
#angel reyes x reader#mayans x reader#mayans mc#mayans fanfic#ez x reader#angel reyes fanfiction#angel reyes#fanfic#angel reyes x oc
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II. Script of the Angel
𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 >> This is the story of three very different people. A successful novelist, a blossoming artist and a dedicated cop. They seem to have nothing in common. Yet, they are continually drawn to each other. It is as if their fates have been intertwined. Written. That they must meet.
𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> ft. jungkook and jimin primarily.
𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 >> policeman!jimin, author!jungkook, painter!reader, serialkiller!XXX; a classic game of cat and mouse
𝔴/𝔠 >> 6.6k
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> mature themes depicted. due to the explicit nature of the topic (serial killers, murders, violence, sexual content, infidelity etc.) scenes are graphic. this is rated 18+. to spare storytelling: please consider yourself warned.
𝔞/𝔫 >> i’m so glad to see people enjoyed the last part! this part is a little shorter but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. will likely be making a masterlist post for this soon as i’m having too much fun writing this and it’s getting long. feedback and comments always appreciated. as always, enjoy! (:
previous part || masterlist || next part
Muscles and bones. The primary architecture of the human body. It allows us to stand and walk; sit and run; jump and spin. But what really keeps us alive? Blood. It carries the nutrients our body needs. It carries the defenders our body requires.
So integral to our survival, blood can tell a story of its own. Looking at the direction of travel along with the width and length of the spatter, a single droplet is its own author, spinning a tale of its origin and its birth. A good spatter gives us more information than just a large overlapping pool.
“Come again?” Jimin says in disbelief.
Taehyung shrugs. He is the unit’s spatter analyst. In one latex covered hand, he holds a cotton swab and the other is pinching his nose.
“There are traces of blood everywhere,” he repeats.
“Yet I don’t see a single stain of red anywhere,” Jimin rubs his temples, “Are you telling me that the killer had enough time to wipe the whole room clean?”
“I’m only telling you what science has told me,” Taehyung says. He carefully dances around another coworker to reach his open kit. It shuts with a loud snap and the younger turns back to look at his commanding officer. “Can I please get back to the lab? This smell is killing me.”
Jimin can only wave half-heartedly at him before turning his attention to the scene in front of him.
It is eight in the morning. They had received an anonymous call about fifteen minutes ago describing a horrific murder. The station had forwarded the call to him and after hearing the detailed account, he left the station with his team.
“Fuck me. What in the world happened here?” a new voice enters the scene.
It is too much even for him to handle this early in the morning. Jimin utters a “you tell me”, then excuses himself from the room. He pushes past the crowding officers and curious residents until he reaches the front of the hotel. There, his stomach dislodges everything it can.
Even as he wipes his mouth, the black spots do not cease dancing in front of his eyes. Deeper in his vision, the picture is all too clear.
She hangs from the ceiling with her arms stretched wide. Her feet are wrapped together in rope and her body is naked. Attached behind are two massive wings. The feathers have been stitched carefully together to create an impressive wingspan and if they were not speared into her back, Jimin may have thought they were beautiful. Yet there they were, dug into her shoulder blades, ripping into her muscle and tissue.
That was not the centerpiece of it all. Missing from the body were all its abdominal organs. They had been ripped out, cut out… forensics would tell him how they were taken out, but they were gone. Replaced inside her was a large bouquet of red roses. They glistened in the sunlight and when the team had arrived, there were still dew drops on its velvety petals. The grotesque memory causes his body to expel its contents again.
“Boss,” the voice from before returns, “You alright?”
Jimin turns to face his partner. Namjoon stands in front of him, a worried expression which contorts his face. Namjoon is one of his only friends at the work force, being the only one similar in age. The other agents were all much older than him so with common interests, the two were naturally drawn to each other. Jimin liked Namjoon well enough. He was smart and quick on his feet. More than once, Jimin had reached out to Namjoon for advice, whether it be for work or personal life.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Yeah, I wasn’t prepared to see that this early in the morning,” Jimin says.
Namjoon nodded. He too has dark circles under his eyes and his lips were hardened into a thin, straight line. “Makes you imagine what a sick motherfucker could create this,” he comments.
They stand in silence for a quick second until Namjoon speaks again, “What do you think we should do?”
Jimin resumes his commanding role. “Take down the body. Have somebody sweep it thoroughly. Send a couple of the lab geeks in to scan the room. I want everything put into evidence, even if it’s a speck of dust. Everybody leaves something behind, and we will find it.”
“What about the civilians? We’ve got a growing, curious crowd spreading like cancer.”
“You’re Lieutenant. Do something about it,” Jimin light-heartedly teases Namjoon in his new role.
Namjoon slightly flinches at the address. Although Namjoon had been promoted to a position higher than Jimin’s, Namjoon only ever treated him in the way they had always been working together: as partners.
“Fuck me,” Namjoon curses with his favourite two words.
Jimin grins. “Maybe later. I’ve got a shit ton of paperwork to get started back at the station. I’ll see you,” he pats his distracted friend’s shoulder.
Taking a last scan of the building, Jimin strides towards his parked car. He is ready to hunt down the person who dared mess around in his town.
...
Jungkook watches the scene before him with mild interest. His ears pick up the voice of an officer that is instructing the crowd that everything is under control; to return to what they are doing without a worry.
“What’s going on?” the housewife asks beside him. She is still in you pajamas and had seemed to wander out due to the hubbub.
He smiles at her. “Murder.”
She regards him with wide eyes. Her feet stumble backwards and she scurries away.
The officer had finished his speech and the crowd was now dissipating. Jungkook took it as his cue to exit as well.
As he walks out of the hotel, he feels vaguely irritated. At the end, his script is not perfectly carried out. He had needed to modify it slightly although the end result is what he had planned it to be. Even the timing of the police’s arrival after his call had been as he predicted.
The world was too easy for him to guess.
Now, it is time to return to Krystal. Even without using his vast knowledge of facial cues and body expressions, he knows exactly how she would react.
Nostrils dilated, lower lid tensed, brows lowered and lower jaw jutting out. He reads her like a book and its title screamed “anger”.
“Where were you all last night?” she questions, hands placed on her hips.
He sighs while placing his jacket on the hanger at the entranceway. His feet ache as they pad across the tiles towards the bedroom.
“I was out doing research. I told you yesterday,” he says.
She bites her lip. When he walked past her, she could smell a faint hint of perfume mixed with a lemony clean scent like soap. Her jaws clench tighter.
“Yes. But you had said you would be out late. You never said you’d be gone the entire night!” she follows him closely behind.
He does not turn or wait for her. Once inside the bedroom, he throws off his shirt and pants, trudging to the showers.
“Don’t you think you could have given me a call at least?” she asks. His figure is a faint silhouette through the shower curtain. She can see him scrubbing his face.
She waits for him until the water is shut down and he steps out of the box. Water drips from his hair and his skin is still a flush pink from the heat. The room fills with steam and he brushes past her on the way out. Still, she relentlessly follows him.
“Jeon Jungkook!” she calls out, “Say something!”
He pulls out a new pair of boxers from the drawer and put them on. Once they snap against his waist, he turns to finally look at her.
“I’m tired, and you’re annoying me. We’ll talk when I wake up,” he says.
Tears sting her eyes but she cannot allow him to see any type of weakness. She whirls around on her heels and stalk out of the room, leaving him to himself. The door slams shut loudly behind her and makes his ears slightly ring.
The sheets are cold and inviting on his body. The wrap around him like a silky cocoon and his eyes are heavy the instance he hits the pillow.
There is only one last thing to do before he can allow his body to rest.
With delicate fingers, he pries off the paper-thin gloves from his hands. They slide off smoothly and if there was an onlooker in the room at that moment, they would have been reminded of a snake that was shedding its skin.
These are special gloves just for his hobbies. They disguise his hands so that they are void of fingertips. They are so lightweight he cannot feel them at all. They blend in with his body so perfectly, only the keenest of eyes would be able to notice the thin line above his wrist where the material ends.
They are perfect for him and allow him to do what he does without a worry.
He leaves the material out on the top of the drawer. He knows that Krystal would not be back in the room for a while so it is safe sitting there. They are like contact lenses, shriveling and drying up due to the exposure to air. In about fifteen minutes time, they would look like shrunken autumn leaves and be the size of a walnut. The room-keeper would find them if he had still not thrown them out, and discard them thinking they were candy wrappers.
He lets his body drift into nothingness, content with the day’s work.
...
Besides having a good eye for detail, a coroner should be able to work under extremely stressful conditions. They could be asked to visit crime scenes, identify human remains or supervise the transportation of corpses. Working often behind the scenes, a coroner is an integral part to this unit. It is sad to say that we are low in numbers and are extremely interested in people joining our team! If you have taken subjects like biology, chemistry and forensics, in addition to law and humanities, we encourage you to apply to our graduate program! We would love to see you working beside us!
Jimin’s eyes scan the announcement that has been placed on the door of the coroner’s office. He is scheduled for a meeting with the elder man on what may have been found and as a man of time, he is early for it.
“Park! You’re here,” the coroner steps out of his office. He has patches of grey hair and a scruff of facial hair that he now scratches with his fingers. Dressed in his usual white lab coat, his black shoes peek out from beneath his pants and they lead the way towards the morgue.
“How’s it going, Fernando?” Jimin greets back, “I see your wife has been feeding you well.” He eyes a popped button on the stomach of his coworker.
Fernando laughs. It is loud and bounces off the white walls of the building. It is a laugh that is jolly and hearty; a strange sound to hear in the location they currently are.
“Maria always has a full meal whenever I return home. I swear, she’s trying to fatten me up like the witch from Hansel and Gretel,” he chuckles. He and Maria, a linguistic analyst also working in the police force, had been married for years. They had invited nearly the whole station to their wedding and wanted to celebrate for another week before a case had dragged everyone back to work.
The two turn a corner and the black door of the morgue greets their face. Fernando hands Jimin a pair of gloves and a mask before they enter the room. The body has already been laid on the table and labelled after Fernando’s inspection.
“I’ve already submitted the full report. You’ll find it on your desk by tomorrow morning,” Fernando speaks with a muffled voice due to the mask.
The material itches Jimin’s nose and he wrinkles it. His fingers carefully pick up the sheet that covers the body and he scans the female underneath.
“You know I like to see the victims personally for each case. Do you mind giving me an overview?” he asks.
The other man shrugs. This is not the first case he’s worked with Jimin. While he was not a hard man to work with, he was extremely meticulous – borderline obsessive – in details to the point that it was tiring and burdensome.
“No signs of struggles. She evidently took care of her body and skin; probably went to the gym in the times between work. Besides the large opening on her abdomen, the rest of her is intact.”
“What is missing from her?”
“Mainly her digestive system and portions of her excretory system. Everything within her ribcage has been preserved and unmoved.”
“So nothing out of the ordinary then.”
“Aside from the gaping hole? No. My best guess is that she knew her attacker. Or if she didn’t, then she at least didn’t sense any danger from him.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I found seminal fluid in her body.”
This new information made Jimin turn his attention away from the body and back to Fernando. He had finished circling the table while mentally confirming everything Fernando had been saying.
“You’re suggesting our killer may have had intercourse with our victim then?”
“Jane Doe, technically,” Fernando inserted, “We haven’t made an ID on her quite yet.”
Jimin waved the comment away.
“Maybe,” Fernando recognized Jimin’s piercing look, “I sent a sample of it to the lab geeks. It could be from the killer or it might be from when she last had sex.”
Jimin knew how long these types of analyses could take. He didn’t want to wait several weeks for results so he told Fernando to put a rush on it.
Fernando stood wordlessly and watched Jimin as he continued to encircle the body. Every so often, his fingers would reach out and lightly tap a part of the body. With each tick the clock on the wall made, it seemed to drive its sound into Fernando’s skull. When he could not take the silence any longer, he let out a cough.
At the sound, Jimin remembers that he is not alone in the room. It happened every time he got absorbed in a case. He would become trapped in his own world and forget everything that was around him.
“Sorry, Fernando. I’m going to be here a little longer. You’re free to leave. I’ll read the report tomorrow morning and if I have any more questions, I’ll find you again,” he dismisses him.
Fernando bows politely and exits the room.
High cheekbones, full lips and a perky nose. She was attractive enough to gain a few extra glances when she had walked down the street. Was that how she got the attention of the killer? That would make sense to why he maintained her facial features and took out her organs. Perhaps it was an interpretation of keeping her beautiful exterior shell. It could also explain why a bouquet of flowers was put inside her.
Jimin shook his head. He was thinking too much. Who knew what went on in the mind of a killer? Well, besides the killer themselves.
He observes her face a while longer and notices that it is not as perfectly symmetrical as he had initially thought. In fact, her right cheek bulged out in a way similar to after a person had their wisdom teeth pulled out.
Bringing the overhanging light towards the mouth of the girl, he shines the light inside. There were a couple of metal tools that were placed on a tray nearby and Jimin used this to pry inside her mouth. He pushes aside the meat of her cheeks and peers at the gums.
There was nothing unusual there.
Something continues to urge him to look further so he turns his head slightly and checks the inner cheek. Deep at the bottom of the valley where muscle meets gums, he notices markings that stand out from the normal. He is unable to make out what they are and so he pushes away the bright light. Opting for a smaller flashlight, he drops the piercing ray of light to where he had been looking before.
Four squiggles. 2-0-something-1. Or was that an I? He rotates his head further.
The originally illegible third Jimin becomes an A, and the two looks more like an S at this angle. If these were letters, then the second Jimin could potentially be an “O”. The last symbol was still inconclusive as it could be either a one or “I”.
Consumed with his new finding, Jimin nearly forgets to record the new information. It is not until a few seconds later that he then whips out his cellular phone and snaps a picture of it. He cannot decipher whether the symbols could be anything more than letters and numbers so he peels off his mask and throws it with the gloves into the trash bin.
As he walks out of the coroner’s building and back to the main station, a feeling continues to burn in his gut. His intuition is telling him that there is something oddly familiar with what he had just saw. It wasn’t the girl or the markings themselves, but rather the position he had found them in. He felt like he had seen something like this before.
He scratches his head the entire way back until he sits at his desk.
That is when he remembers.
...
The light takes him by surprise from the slight crack of his curtains. Warmth from the afternoon sun hits him directly at the eyes and its rays creates a band that gives him the illusion akin to Cyclops from X-Men.
He stretches and feels his muscles straining from last night’s activities. With a roll of his neck, he bounces off the bed and throws his legs onto the floor. The cold from being out of his blankets send a shiver down his spine that makes him curl his toes.
Everything is strangely quiet around him. He does not hear the clatter of plates nor the running of water. There are no soft paddings from footsteps. The world is silent.
He grabs a shirt from his suitcase and throws it over his head, bringing a small bit of warmth to his body. With each step around their hotel room he sees nothing. Her clothing is gone as with it her toothbrush and shoes. In fact, her entire suitcase has disappeared. With miniscule curiosity he returns back to the bedroom and unplugs his charging phone. There is one unread message and he opens it.
“I know you’re tired but I don’t think that’s an excuse for your outburst this morning. Regardless, I will respect your need for personal space. I’m flying back to LA. I’ll see you when you return. – Krystal”
Her words are curt and straight-forward. He reads her frustration between the words but doesn’t carry it with him. He knows she is waiting for an apology but he is too engrossed with his newfound freedom. He had not planned for the research on this trip to be completed with such speed and so his return train ride was not scheduled until the day after tomorrow.
She will have to wait. He had a whole city to walk and sights to see. She will be waiting regardless.
Ever so slightly he forms a smile with his lips. He walks over to the curtains and throws them open, allowing all the sunlight to enter his room. It bounces off the white sheets and covers the rug. Dust particles float around after being stirred from their slumber.
With a hand pressed against the window, Jungkook peers down from the height of the hotel. He watches the automobiles that zoom beneath his gaze and traces the pathway of each person that passes by.
It is a good day.
...
Fingertips graze her lips with a type of tenderness that sends small vibrations through her entire body. He holds her gaze and she peers shyly into his half-moon eyes. A smile dances on his face while she caresses his face with tremoring hands. He grabs them and holds it in his own.
“You’re shaking,” he says with a light teasing tone.
She wants to pull away but he holds them only stronger. He traces the lines on her palms to soothe her, but it only makes her shake all the more.
“Is this real?” the question brushes your mouth much like the autumn wind rustling through leaves. It falls from your lips and floats gently to reach his ears.
“Do you want this be real?” he asks you. His eyes never leave you, starting from the top of you forehead to trace to the tip of your nose and finally landing on your cherry stained lips.
You faintly hear the sound of laughter in the background and the pattering of feet running but you are only consumed by the man who sits in front of you.
Your nod is but a slight shift of your head.
He smiles at you and cups your face in the warmth of his hands. Pressing his lips affectionately on yours, you inhale and take in everything from him.
“I love you, Y/N” he confesses with all of his heart.
You can feel your heart tugging towards him as he stands and offers a hand. You take it and he lightly pulls you to his feet.
A rush overcomes you and suddenly, he seems taller than you remember. You look down and sees him standing a few centimeters off the ground. Your brows furrow and you peer up at him again.
He has turned and is now starting to run forward.
“C’mon, let’s go!” he calls back towards you.
You try to move your feet but they only propel you forward while he runs upward into the vast blue sky.
“Hyun!” you cry, reaching out to him.
He doesn’t seem to hear you but you see laughter bursting forth from his mouth. “You’ll have to run faster or you won’t catch up!”
Pressing your feet firmly on the ground, you push off but gravity brings you back down.
“Hyun, I can’t! I can’t get into the sky like you!”
He has now risen further than ever, growing smaller in your vision.
“C’mon, Y/N! Come fast, before you can’t catch up!” his voice is faint but you hear him calling to you.
You run forward faster than ever but you are never able to leave the ground. Tears spill from the corner of your eyes in frustration at the fact that you are behind him.
“Hyun, don’t leave me!” you scream between your sobbing, “Baekhyun!”
Your dream is shattered at the sound of metal clattering to the floor. You are jolted awake and your heart bolts at the sudden sound. The metal can which held your wet paintbrushes were now spread across the floor after falling from the table. Your friend stands at the door with an embarrassed look on her face.
“Sorry,” she says, bringing a finger from her forehead towards you in apology.
You feel the rise in your heart rate. You conceal it by slowly getting up out of you seat and rolling you head to get rid of the kink. Together, both you and Min clean up the mess off the floor from where she had knocked over the art supplies.
“Are you okay?” Min asks softly, not quite meeting your eyes as the two of you straighten out the other half completed canvases which balance precariously on the table.
You blink in confusion, causing a tear to roll down your cheek. You reach up and brush it with your fingers. They return wet and tinged with green. You let out a small laugh. “I slept on paint again, didn’t I?” you muse.
You and Min are standing at the art studio where you had spent all last night in. Your completed painting stands at the corner and Min walks over to it.
Min tries to read what you are thinking, but the other has her head turned away. “You stayed here all night to complete this?” Min inspects the painting closer.
It depicts a girl standing shyly in front of a boy against a background of red, pink and purple. The boy had his back towards the observer and he stood with his hands behind him holding a bouquet of flowers. The painting showed an innocent love between the two but when Min squinted her eyes, you noticed two circles that were put on the back of the coat the boy was wearing.
Min raises an eyebrow and points it out to you. “Are those bullet holes?”
You in the meantime had stood hypnotized in front of the painting. A strange feeling is stirring in your heart as you look at what you had painted. It brought forth the memory of Baekhyun standing in front of you with flowers after their first date. It led to the memory of your first shy kiss after. It made you remember the pain you felt from your dream.
Another tear perches at the corner of your eye and you turn to brush it angrily away.
Min is still standing in front of you, now watching you with concern. She could guess why you are crying and trying so hard to mask it. You had only ever shed tears for one person and this painting brought back the reminder that this person was no longer around you.
“I’m not sure what that is,” you laughs nervously, “It was quite late last night. My mind does weird things when I am sleep deprived.”
Without further explanation, you grab your bag and head out before any other memory can shake you.
“I’m going home to shower,” you say without looking back, “Sorry about the mess of the studio. I’ll be back later to clean it.”
Your last words choke and you escape before Min can see the tears that fall consciously down your cheeks this time.
...
3. 2. 1. Boom.
Making the entrance of the century, the three horses gallop into the square where the three beings are strapped on.
White. The stallion neighs and throws his head back, unsure of where to go next. But a loud snap makes it head to the right and it brings its hooves down on the ground. Its rider’s body has been punctured with holes and the smell that emits from it is horrendous. For the first horsemen is called Pestilence.
Red. Its mane has been dipped in the blood of its enemy. It limps as the giant beast follows in step behind the stallion, a battle scar from its recent fight. His rider flails at a sharp right turn, causing the spear attached at the arm to clash with the helmet. For the second horsemen is called War.
Black. The man is but naked, showing his skin pulled taut over the ribcage and bones. He carries the pair of scales with his stomach plastered on one end and the other tipped with bread. For the third horsemen is Famine, but this man can no longer fill his hunger seated upon the black horse.
There is a final horseman. The fourth’s name is Death. But why does it need to exist, when it is so very much alive in the other three?
Excerpt: Written - Three Horsemen
Everything from his desk was moved into the presentation room that allowed him more space to work. Papers of the current case overlap with the papers from the older file. They are grouped in a way only the creator can understand and it is Jimin who stands before it.
Picking at his lips with a hand, his foot taps rhythmically on the floor as he continues to scan what he has laid out in front of him.
He knew something had been bothering him since he returned from the morgue. Now it was clear. He had remembered a case he had taken part of when he had been temporarily stationed in Los Angelos. The case had remained unsolved but the victim was similar to his Jane Doe. In that case, the man had TH3C scratched into the inner part of his cheek. Matching the picture he had taken earlier to the picture in the old file, they were even scratched in the same place.
After digging around a little more, he found two other cases that were similar. It could be coincidence but if they were all related, this was not a simple kill any longer. They had a serial killer in their hands.
However there is trouble with the cases. Besides the one he is holding, the other three are from Los Angeles. He technically no longer had any jurisdiction over them. Jimin was contemplating on calling up his colleague when his own phone interrupts his thought process.
He answers the phone promptly.
“Hello?”
“Jimin?” your timid voice reaches his ears.
His name uttered from you relaxes his tense shoulders. “Hey. What’s up?”
He can hear shuffling from your side as you think about what to say.
“I just wanted to call and see if you were okay. You didn’t return home last night.”
“I went home for a bit but was called out pretty early for a case this morning. Wait, how did you know I didn’t go home?”
“Ah… Well, I’m standing in front of your place right now.”
“Why are you doing that?”
He can basically hear your body language through the phone. You are gnawing on the inside of you cheek and probably tugging at your shirt, a habit you had when you were nervous.
“I forgot my keys again. I thought that you might be home and I could use your shower.”
Laughing at how sheepish your voice is, he says to you, “That tells me you slept over at the studio again. And very likely have paint on your face.”
“Hey!” you huff, “I don’t wake up with paint on my face every single time!”
“But you did this time, didn’t you?” he continues teasing you.
You mutter something unintelligible, causing him to laugh at you again.
“Unfortunately, I can’t step out of the office but if you don’t mind stopping over, I’ll hand you my keys.”
You agree to his proposal and tell him that you’ll be there in twenty.
Once their call ends, he chuckles silently to himself. You never seemed to change. When he and Baekhyun were roommates, there were multiple times he’d return home and find you standing outside their flat. You would tell him the same story of how you forgot your keys and of whether you could wash up at their place. And each and every time you would have a blotch of paint on you face where you had fallen asleep at the studio.
He had teasingly got you face wash in a paint bottle for your birthday a long time ago as a joke. The last time he went over to your place, he had seen it standing in your room.
His mind continues to wander to memories of his college days with Baekhyun and you until he is interrupted by Namjoon.
“Whoah. What do you have going on here?” he asks, stepping towards the multitude of papers.
Jimin takes this break to grab himself a new cup of coffee as the one sitting to the side had long since turned cold.
“I was at the morgue earlier and discovered something strange. It reminded me of an old case,” he told Namjoon.
Namjoon flipped through a couple of the pages but he was not as patient as Jimin to read through all the details. He scrunched up his nose and breezed past Jimin again.
“I wanted to tell you we have a name for our Jane Doe,” Namjoon said, leaning against the doorframe. He is actually quite impressed at what Jimin has discovered in the span of the short time since they discovered the body this morning. Generally, he was impressed with how fast the department had gathered information. Perhaps as this was their biggest case in a while, the team as a whole was interested in solving it as soon as they can.
“Sara Michel,” Namjoon continues on, “Female. 25. From Los Angeles. She’s a fine arts curator. She was in town for a meeting with the local museum about transferring a couple of new sculptures over. It’s been confirmed that the room we found her in this morning is the room her company booked for her while she was town.”
“Los Angeles,” Jimin repeats. His eyes dart to the papers. Again, their neighbouring city is mentioned.
“Yeah. What of it?” Namjoon picks up on Jimin’s sudden interest.
He watches as the other walks over to the piles of paper and brings up a folder. “The old case I was talking about,” Jimin says, “It was from when I worked in LA last summer. A bit unusual that Ms. Michel is from there, don’t you think?”
Namjoon scratches his chin. “Well, LA is a big city. And we’re only a train ride away….”
Jimin shakes his head. “I don’t like it. Something weird is going on here.”
Somebody outside the room yells out for Namjoon. He groans and Jimin throws him a sympathetic look. Jimin never told Namjoon, but before Namjoon was offered the promotion as lieutenant, Jimin had been approached by the captain. He had declined the position as he knew all the responsibilities that came with the new role. Besides, he enjoyed working as a detective; it allowed him hands-on access to all cases.
“I’ll keep you updated on anything else I find,” Namjoon says as he turns to leave.
Jimin replies, “Same here.”
“Alright, well see you around. If I don’t get lost amongst all the conferences I have to start pulling…” his voice trails off as he exits with a dejected curve of his back.
...
“Hi,” your voice interrupts his nap.
After Namjoon had left, Jimin had sat down at the desk fully planning to do some more research. However, his fatigue got the better of him and he ended up dozing off.
He rubs his eyes sleepily and rises to greet you. You urge him to sit back down.
You may have spent the night at the studio, but you looked more put together than he was. Dressed in the first pair of jeans he could find and an old tshirt, he was in a contrast to your outfit. You wore a pair of black and white polka-dotted overall shorts that you paired with a slim fit quarter sleeved shirt inside. A necklace hung around your neck, and you had thrown your hair into a messy bun. Tendrils of hair had fallen out, but it framed your face giving you an overall effortless but fresh look.
Walking up to him, you sit gently at the edge of the table while he remains seated to your side. He gently reaches up and smudges the shadow of green paint on your face.
“What a way to greet me,” you pout.
He smiles at you, then yawns and stretches. Remembering why you had arrived, he rummages through his pocket and retrieves the key to his apartment for you.
You thanked him for it and then rotate in your spot to take in the entire room. You were similar in this way, where the two of you had an eye for minute details. It intrigues you to see the pictures that had been laid out. It is true that they are morbid but being around Jimin all these years had made you accustomed to seeing images of a crime scene.
“Are you going to be coming home tonight?” you ask him. Your back is still turned towards him as you walk up and study a picture up close.
He walks up to you and stands behind. You were looking at the picture of the markings on one of the victims.
“TH3C,” you whisper.
“No,” his voice rumbles from behind you, “This case is pretty big. I’ll most likely be spending the night here.”
You spin in your spot to face him again and your noses nearly touch. He stumbles and takes a step back at the close proximity.
A frown starts to crease your forehead and you nervously chews on your fingernail.
“What is it?” he sighs. It takes him a moment to gather himself while the scent of you lingers around him.
“I feel bad that I’m barging into your place again,” you mumble, “What if I bring you dinner tonight?”
“There’s no need. I’ll order take out from nearby. Besides, you’re always welcome at my place. It’s not a bother.”
“Jimin…”
He sighs, defeated. “Sure. I’ll wait for your meal.”
You delightedly clap your hands together. “Perfect! I’ll make your favourite dish tonight! How does carbonara sound?”
Nodding he feels the usual smile that appears around you on his face. It was strange. Before you came, he had nearly fainted with tiredness but now that you were here, it was like you had transferred you energy to him.
“I’ll see you again tonight, then!” you quip animatedly. Taking his keys off the desk and into your pocket, you makes your way towards the door before stopping again.
“TH,” you begin, “It makes me think of Three Horsemen.”
“What’s that?” he asks you, distracted by the thought of delicious homemade food.
“Three Horsemen. Remember the novel I was reading? It was just a random thought. And then maybe the number three for the third one? I don’t know what “C” would mean though. Perhaps it’s the horsemen from set C,” you continue to ramble on. You notice that Jimin is now staring at you with an intense gaze. You wave your hand in front of you, as if the simple action would cause you thoughts to magically disappear as well.
“Forget what I said. I’m an artist,” you laugh nervously, “Besides if it was a set C, there would be a set B and A. And that would make… nine total kills. My mind is just overactive with the books I’m reading.”
Jimin laughs nervously along with you. But inside, he mentally makes a note to investigate the possibility of what you have said, however miniscule that may be.
You thank him once again for his hospitality and wave him good bye.
When he is left alone again, he sinks back into his seat. It makes his bottom ache as he had been seated for a while, so he paces the room.
Three Horsemen – Third Horsemen – Set C. TH3C. It wasn’t an unreasonable conclusion to draw. It was scary to imagine though. Eight other victims that were not found.
His thoughts are interrupted once again when the phone in the room rings.
Namjoon is on the other end when Jimin picks up.
“We found a witness.”
...
next part
#bts#jimin#jungkook#bts fanfic#jimin fanfic#jungkook fanfic#bts x reader#jungkook x reader#jimin x reader#bts scenario#jimin scenario#jungkook scenario#bts fluff#bts angst#bts smut#bts imagines#seokjin#namjoon#yoongi#taehyung#hoseok
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Journeys end in lovers meeting - Sam/Deena - Fear Street x Bly Manor AU - Chapter 2
Chapters: 2/10
Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson, Sarah Fier/Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Christine "Ziggy" Berman/Nick Goode, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Deena Johnson
Characters: Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street), Deena Johnson, Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Simon Kalivoda, Josh Johnson (Fear Street), Constance (Fear Street Part 3: 1666), Christine "Ziggy" Berman, Nick Goode (Fear Street), Alice (Fear Street Part 2: 1978), Sarah Fier (Fear Street), Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Solomon Goode (Fear Street)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, The Haunting of Bly Manor AU, Not Canon Compliant, Haunted Houses, Ghosts, Character Death, Minor Character Death, Canon Lesbian Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Au Pair Sam, Gardener Deena, Housekeeper Kate, Cook Simon, Josh and Constance as troubled kids, Ziggy and Nick in an unhealthy relationship, minor Cindy/Alice, Martin cameos, special appearances of all the Shadyside killers as ghosts, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, The Rest Is Confetti
Summary:
The year is 1994. Samantha Fraser recently moved to Shadyside, and she desperately needs a job that will help her leave her troubled past behind. She starts working as au pair at Shadyside Manor, where she is not the only one tortured by ghosts. Grief, regrets, guilt, innocent victims, and an ancient curse. At the center of all of it... love.
Chapter 2:
Sam hadn’t been kidding when she said she would deal with the kids by herself. About nine years as a teacher were worth it. She knew exactly how to balance patience and authority, and exactly when to crack a smile. It wasn’t time for smiles though. It was time to let the kids of Shadyside manor know that their days of self-government were over. Sam was brought there to bring them an education, and that included rules, discipline, and consequences to their actions.
So, if they locked her in a closet, there would have to be a sort of punishment. If they were responsible for the muddy footprints that appeared on the staircase of the house, there would also be a punishment. Nothing too severe, of course. Sam knew even the word punishment seemed too hard for kids. But she knew this would be her only chance at asserting her position in that place.
That was how, after breakfast, Sam found herself with nothing to do while Josh and Constance worked on cleaning up the stairs. Luckily, she was quickly approached by two of her coworkers.
“So, since you have put the kids to do my work,” Kate said. “Why don’t you come hang us for a bit?”
Simon pulled out one of the chairs from the table and with a flourish offered it to Sam, “Miss Fraser, would you care to join us for a mid-morning shit-talking session?”
“Oh, sure,” Sam chuckled nervously and accepted the seat. “And you can just call me Sam.” She couldn’t help repeating herself. She didn’t exactly have good memories attached to her name. She only ever wished to be just Sam.
“Don’t creep her out, please,” Kate told her friend and two of them took a seat as well. “So, Sam, what do you think of the house so far? And the kids?”
The new au pair took her time to answer. “The house is… big. It’s uh, I mean, sure, it looks scary. But once inside, it doesn’t feel as bad as the rumors make it out to be, you know?”
Kate nodded firmly, seemingly satisfied with that answer. Simon grinned playfully and leaned forward on the table as if about to discuss a secret, “You don’t have haunted houses in Sunnyvale?”
Sam chuckled bitterly at that. Apparently, it wasn’t a secret for anyone the place she came from. If only they knew the full story. “No we don’t,” she looked down and shook her head. “Sunnyvale has its different types of hauntings though.”
“What about the kids?” Kate blurted out.
“The Sunnyvale kids?”
“What? No! Constance and Josh,” Kate scoffed, and sent an unimpressed look in Sam's way.
“Oh, right,” Sam laughed nervously. She desperately hoped she wasn’t blushing in embarrassment. Kate was staring at her very intently, studying her. But it was, somehow, not getting exactly the effect she was hoping for in Sam. Because yes, maybe Sam was deeply intimidated. But she could also tell that Kate’s harshness came from a place of being protective of the kids and caring about them. “They seem great, really,” Sam eventually replied. “Constance is bold and Josh is an introvert, but I’ve dealt with kids like that my entire life. I’m going to try my best with them though, that’s for sure. I just… have to get to know them.”
At that moment, Kate and Simon exchanged a look. Sam had no doubt it was true that those two had been best friends for a long time. It seemed like a really important conversation was silently happening between them. Finally, Simon spoke up.
“No, you haven’t worked with kids like them,” he replied, suddenly very careful with his words. “No offense, you know? But, bold and introverted mean different things in Sunnyvale and Shadyside. Here they mean something more along the lines of survivor and traumatized.”
A not completely discreet cough from Kate got him to stop talking. “No, I know, I’m sorry,” Sam was quick to apologize. They weren’t completely wrong. “I know, it’s just, well… I don’t know anything… I mean, what, uh, why…” She ended with a sigh and slumping in her chair, knowing there was no right way to ask the questions she had in mind.
“Constance’s parents died two years ago,” Kate said. She was speaking almost in whispers, but it nearly startled Sam, who didn’t think she’d get any sort of explanation. Afterward, she would hope she hadn’t. “Cindy Berman and husband. Plane crashed. Then, last year… her aunt. Christine killed herself here on the property. Really gives you some perspective into all the fucking rumors, doesn’t it?”
Afterward, Sam was beyond speechless. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find a thing to say. That’s when Simon joined in.
“And Josh, he… uh, well, he is not one of the Bermans,” Simon was struggling to explain. “Look, he has his own fucked up past, okay? But I can’t tell you more because Deena would totally kick my ass. It’s their story to tell, you know? The past is the past anyway.”
Sam nodded thoughtfully. At least, she hoped she appeared thoughtful. Not too thoughtful though. Just thoughtful enough for someone that has perfectly normal reactions to hearing the name of a very particular co-worker. That momentary panic at least gave her an idea of how to reply to the tough conversation. A change of subject.
“What about you guys?” Sam asked. “How did you end up working at the manor?”
Instantly, Kate seemed to relax. “I just like bossing people around,” she grinned, earning laughter from the other two. “My aunt used to work here. Alice pays well enough. And if you don’t get scared easily, it’s not a bad place to live in.”
Sam smiled at her and then looked at Simon, noticing how he didn’t look half as relaxed as Kate this time. “What can I say?” he smiled in a way that kept a lot hidden. “It pays the bills. It’s close to home. And I fucking love food.”
The au pair decided it wasn’t time to push for more information. Instead, in that brief moment of silence, she turned her head to look through the door at Josh and Constance working on the stairs. They were doing well, but their day was far from over. From her point of view, she had no way of seeing the man standing on the other side of the stairs. Tommy Slater had been standing there for longer than he could remember. He was still wearing his red flannel shirt, still holding on to his axe, still looking impossibly sad, cold, and lonely.
--
As she made her way to the greenhouse, Sam tried to convince herself she wasn’t nervous at all. She had no reason to be anxious at all. Deena Johnson was another one of her coworkers. Sure, maybe she pulled Sam out of a pretty embarrassing breakdown the previous night. Yes, maybe she had an incredible smile that almost painfully reminded Sam of feelings she had spent a lifetime running from. But… she reached the greenhouse before coming up with a reason not to be on edge.
“Hi?” she called out, tentatively stepping inside the place.
“Over here,” a voice replied from the back of the greenhouse. A voice that was like no other Sam had ever heard.
“Um, hi, Deena,” Sam approached her slowly. “It’s me, uh, Sam.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Deena replied, a small smile on her lips. She stood up from the ground, where she had been kneeling down to work on one of the multiple plants that filled this space. “What do you have there?” Deena asked, nodding toward the plate Sam was holding in her hand.
Sam looked down, as if she had forgotten what it was she was carrying. “Simon,” she blurted out.
“Oh. He looks a little bit different than I remember.”
That made Sam laugh nervously. “I mean, it’s your breakfast,” Sam said. “You didn’t come down for breakfast and Simon asked me to bring it to you.”
Deena nodded slowly, and accepted the plate from Sam’s hands. Then she moved to one of the two chairs at the back of the greenhouse and sat down, inspecting her breakfast.
Afterward, Sam might chastise herself for it, but at the moment she couldn’t help but blurt out, “You’re welcome.”
That earned her an annoyed sigh from the gardener. “Listen, you don’t have to do this,” Deena said.
“Do what?” Sam wondered, taking a seat on the spare chair.
“Play nice with us, with me,” Deena explained, nearly whispering the last part.
“I…” Sam stuttered, she was definitely taken off guard. “Well, we are coworkers now, we live under the same roof, I think-”
“I think you have no idea what you got yourself into. This place, and everyone here, is doomed,” Deena interrupted her. “You’re Sunnyvale, we are Shadyside trash. I know your type. I only hope you’ll run away before the kids get attached to you.”
For a moment, all Sam could do was stare, frown silently at Deena, as the other woman nonchalantly got started on her breakfast, as if she hadn’t just put Sam’s entire mood upside down. It was interesting though, the way Deena chose not to mention the fact that she skipped breakfast just to avoid a set of blue eyes that were too dangerously pretty to wander into Shadyside.
Sam jumped out of her seat, and took a deep breath to reign in her feelings. “You don’t know me at all,” was all she said before walking out of the greenhouse.
--
The rest of the morning passed by in a blur of hard work, mostly for the kids. Surprisingly though, at one point they stopped looking so bothered about it. Josh wasn’t the kind to complain out loud, but Sam noticed from the way his shoulders relaxed and his lips almost started to smile. Constance, on the other hand, was pretty content complaining as much as possible, but she seemed happier doing something new, entertaining, and different from studying. They especially seemed to enjoy working outside.
Sam had wanted to avoid the unkind gardener as much as possible, but she had already planned this, so there was no turning back. This was part of the kids’ education, hard work, and Sam was proud of her methods. The one thing she wasn’t proud of was the way the gardener was making her feel. Her plan to avoid Deena had backfired. Deena, Kate, and Simon were lounging in the garden, while Sam guided Josh and Constance on their work.
As hard as she tried, Sam couldn’t stop herself from second-guessing what her new coworkers were talking about. Were they talking about her? Good things? Did Kate and Simon feel the same way as Deena? Were they criticizing her? Those smiles on their faces, was that a good or bad sign? Deena’s posture on that chair, the way she held a cigarette, played with the delicate chain hanging from her neck, teased her young brother, locked eyes with Sam precisely once… did it mean anything at all?
--
The rest of the morning went by easily. Sam dragged Josh and Constance back to the house to continue cleaning, and they had to comply. Tragic as it seemed, they couldn’t complain to anybody. Kate, Simon, Deena, even Alice in the safety of her own home, they all would have supported Sam’s teaching methods at best, would’ve laughed in their faces at worst.
Things couldn’t be perfect though. Sam would scold herself for letting her guard down at all. She had been in one of the bedrooms, assisting Constance with cleaning the windows, when it happened. One second it was just a window, showing the green grounds around the property, nothing more. Then the next second, all Sam could see was his face. Dark. Just a shadow. Furious. Disgusted. Head tilted. Observing her. Unforgiving. Horribly familiar.
Sam let out a yelp of surprise and stumbled backward. She caught herself before falling down to the floor, but not before Constance saw her. At first, the girl chuckled, but she sounded somewhat genuine when she asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m- uh, I’m okay,” Sam replied, voice trembling. “Give me a minute.”
She was out of that room before hearing the girl’s reply. She couldn’t move fast enough, but her legs were trembling. She couldn’t shake that image of her mind. Her own particular ghost. The monster that she hadn’t been able to leave in Sunnyvale. Following her reflection everywhere she went.
Sam stumbled down the stairs and out of the house. She finally found refuge behind one of the big bushes on the sides of the entrance. A place where she could break down in peace. She couldn’t stop the tears, and she could hardly breathe, and she was so scared.
“Are you okay?”
The question makes Sam choke one of her sobs. Of all people that could have caught her at this moment…
“I get it,” Deena cautiously added, from a safe distance away. “I swear I had the same reaction after I met Constance.” She could barely see Sam, hiding behind the bush, but she guessed that privacy was exactly what the blonde wanted. “If Josh’s the problem though, just let me know. You aren’t allowed to, but I can totally kick his ass.” That earned her a tearful chuckle from Sam, which was a very good sign. “Just so you know though,” Deena added, “That’s usually my spot for having an emotional breakdown. Now I have to go to this other corner and there are spiders and shit in there, no privacy at all.”
This time, there was a genuine laugh coming from Sam. The tears had stopped, and she managed to find the strength to look over her shoulder, show her face to Deena and say, “Thank you.”
Deena softly shook her head, dismissing Sam’s need to thank her. “You’re doing better than most people could,” she said. Seeing Sam smile sadly, acknowledging her tear-streaked face, Deena insisted, “I mean it.”
There was a pause then. Sam opened her mouth, desperately wishing she could say something else. All she wanted was to ask Deena how she could be so kind and so cruel as if a switch was flipped inside her. But Sam feared that saying more than two words would make her cry again. Deena took that as her cue to go on with her day.
“Back to work then,” Deena said, starting to march back into the house. “Stay strong, Sunnyvale.”
Definitely done with her tears, Sam was having trouble holding back her smile. She tried to sneak another glance at the gardener, but Deena was gone, leaving behind only a pleasant warmth in Sam’s heart and a firm smile on her face.
--
Nine years of teaching had taught Sam a lot. She knew how to handle kids, that was for sure. The unruly ones, the proud ones, the ones that struggled, and the ones that shined brightly. Simon had been right when he said she had never worked with kids like Josh and Constance. Still, she was prepared to deal with Josh picking up spiders from the garden, and trying to scare her. She didn’t lose her ground even when Constance’s attitude sometimes made Sam feel like she was the teenager out of the two of them.
What she did that day wasn’t the worst Sam had to do for one of her students. Still, it was pretty awkward explaining to Deena how her younger brother had massacred the rose bushes to give the flowers to Sam.
When the two women arrived at the scene of the crime, it was a huge mess. Josh had picked a few roses for Sam and destroyed the rest. He must have been pretty aggressive to earn that small limp he had when he walked toward Sam a few minutes earlier.
The teenager fell to second place in the forefront of Sam’s mind though. She was slightly more preoccupied about the furious gardener gripping the broken stem of a rose as if it were a knife.
“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Deena yelled, not for the first time in the past minute, and tried to walk away.
“Hey,” Sam stopped her with a firm tone and a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll deal with him, it’s my job.”
Deena took a deep breath. She was pretty much shaking with anger still. She pursed her lips, suddenly aware of the way she had been yelling at the innocent au pair for god knows how long now. She wasn’t good at apologizing though. She slumped her shoulders and exhaled.
“It’s just… he should know better than this,” Deena said bitterly. “We are lucky to be living here. He knows he has to stay out of trouble.” She looked up into Sam’s blue eyes and the careful attention she found there nearly turned her breathless. “That was the deal,” Deena added softly, taking a moment to gulp nervously. “I made a deal with Cindy Berman years ago, when we had nothing. Josh and I could live here, and I’d pay her by working on the grounds of the manor.”
Sam nodded slowly, with a barely-there smile that let Deena know she had listened, and understood. “It’s okay,” Sam said. “I don’t think it’ll be a big deal. I won’t say anything if you don’t.” The two women exchanged a smile. “It’s just a few flowers-”
“It’s not just a few flowers,” Deena protested immediately.
“I know, I know,” Sam quickly said. She was tiptoeing the line between fearing Deena’s temper and being endeared by how protective she was of her plants. “They’re also a weapon, apparently.”
Deena tilted her head in confusion. “Ah,” she said when she looked down at the rose’s stem she was still holding in her hand. She couldn’t say anything else though. Sam had taken the initiative to reach out and gently pry open Deena’s fist to take the stem away. That’s when they both noticed there had been thorns involved. “Shit,” Deena cursed.
“Um,” Sam mumbled pensively as she stared at the couple of red spots on Deena’s hand. “You know, to be a teacher, you have to learn a thing or two about first aid. Do you want help?”
Deena was already shaking her head. Her wild curls shook with her movement. “No, it’s okay- fuck!” She exclaimed in pain the moment she tried to close her hand again. Now there were a few drops of blood on her palm. “Fine,” she grumbled.
--
Deena was so upset about having someone bandaging her hand, that Sam found the whole process much easier than she had expected. It was a little bit like dealing with a kid, not that she would ever admit such a thing to the gardener.
“So, you really like those roses, huh?” Sam asked while cleaning up the little wounds in Deena’s palm.
“They’re some of my favorites from the entire property,” Deena shrugged. “I like all these plants more than most people, that’s for sure.”
Sam nodded, picking up the bandages. “Why would he do this?” she asked. “Josh, I mean. He doesn’t seem to be the type to vandalize the gardens.”
“He isn’t. There was one bad fucking influence and…” Deena replied. Her words were hiding a lot, but her resentful tone warned the au pair against making any further questions. Instead, Deena looked up and added, “or maybe… he just really likes you, Sunnyvale.”
Sam laughed at that, and ducked her head to avoid those gorgeous brown eyes. Surprisingly, she decided to admit something right then and there in the otherwise empty kitchen of the manor while holding on to Deena’s hand. “You do know I’m not even from Sunnyvale, right?”
“What?” Deena asked. She looked caught off guard for the first time since Sam met her.
“You guys don’t fact-check your gossip, huh?” Sam chuckled. “I was born here, in Shadyside. I moved away when I was little, after my father died, but… I guess, now I’m trying to find my home, you know?”
“Right,” Deena replied.
She blinked slowly, and her eyebrows furrowed into a small frown as she took in the information, the significance of Sam sharing it with her, and the unknown reason why the word home sounded so perfect coming from Sam’s smiling lips.
After a brief silence that felt like it stretched for hours, Deena cleared her throat. “Well, uh, thank you, for giving me a hand,” she said. The mention of her hand made both women realize that this entire time they hadn’t let go of each other’s hands. They pulled away from each other quickly, but nothing could have wiped the smiles off their faces. “It’s not the worst I’ve dealt with so I better get back to work. I guess I’ll see you around… Sunnyvale.”
Sam didn’t even attempt to hold back her grin. Distantly, she wished she wasn’t blushing too much, but that was it. She turned around to watch Deena walk away from the kitchen. Then she was rewarded with the sight of Deena looking back at her once before crossing the doorway.
When she was alone again, Sam leaned her back against the counter and sighed. It was a mixture of contentment and exhaustion. She had tried her best to maintain a good impression in front of Deena, and now she could finally relax. She was starting to understand her better too, how Deena’s boldness came from a good place of being protective over her brother, and maybe even over the whole property. Sam’s exhaustion though, didn’t come from anywhere near Deena, the teens, or the house. She was only realizing how absurdly debilitating it had been to keep up a false version of herself at all times during those years in Sunnyvale. Slowly but surely, she was leaving all that behind.
Sam took a deep breath and straightened up. Then she started to walk out of the kitchen following the path Deena had walked a minute ago. She didn’t have to look back before crossing the doorway, she just kept walking. This way, she missed Ryan Torres’s presence in one corner of the kitchen. Lonesome, unknown, fumbling with the knife he still carried at all times.
--
“Josh! Constance! You guys are way too old for this kind of game!” Sam was yelling as she walked around the house. She didn’t understand how Kate hadn’t heard her yet.
She wasn’t scared. Just because they had turned off all the lights and she was only barely familiar with the house didn’t mean she should be scared. The kids wanted to improvise a game of hide and seek to avoid going to bed? Fine. Sam wasn’t scared of the dark. In the darkness she couldn’t see her reflection and whatever cursed company she would find there. If she had to drag a couple of teenagers to their beds from their ears then so be it.
When Sam caught sight of the curtains of one room moving strangely, she hurried towards it and pulled at it, but there was nobody there. She sighed, disappointed, stressed, but not scared, not yet. She heard footsteps behind her, and when she turned around, she distinctly heard the front door of the house open. Chills ran through Sam’s spine. It was unsettling, but not too bad, right? She would be deeply upset if she had to chase a pair of teenagers out in the middle of a storm, but it could be worse.
It could be worse… Maybe it was much worse than she imagined. That was the thought going through Sam’s mind when, very slowly, she turned back around to face the window again. At first, it looked like a blur. Then, she feared it was that same ghostly silhouette that followed her everywhere. Somehow, it was worse. Somehow, the figure moved closer and it became clear. There was a man standing on the other side of the window. Tall. Dark hair. Hazel eyes. Smile that never, under any circumstances, would have been mistaken for friendly.
Sam took a step backward, so did he. Then she took off running. Not in the direction some might have expected. She wasn’t running away to hide. She ran out of that room, taking the fireplace poker from its stand and gripping it with force as she rushed out of the house.
“I’m going to call the police!” Sam yelled while the rain poured down on her. “I’m going to call the fucking police!”
She ran toward the window where she’d seen that man. He was nowhere to be seen but, as if it was all part of a pattern, she stumbled across the worst possible scenario.
“Sam?” Josh mumbled. He was just standing there, shaking with cold, drenched from the rain… then he just crumbled down, falling to the ground, unconscious.
#update!!! please read and share and leave comments and i'll love u forever!!#fear street#sameena#sam x deena#deena x sam#sam fraser#deena johnson#fear street fanfiction#my fic
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Absolutely Not - Spencer Reid x Reader
chapter eight of “all bets are off”
do i sense some… possesive undertones coming from doctor reid? whatever. it doesn’t matter. you’re done with him anyway. it’s over.
warnings: SMUT, public sex, unprofessionalism, bondage, daddy kink, degradation, POSSESIVE sex
“Good morning, agents.”
“Hotch… too loud.” You mumbled.
“I agree.” JJ groaned.
You and your party-girls from the previous night were huddled around the coffee machine, grumbling about your hangovers.
“Why did we do that on a Sunday?” Emily asked, pouring herself a cup.
“Because we’re all masochists.” You replied weakly. Your morning had been miserable. You woke up with a pounding headache and you had to put on about a pound of makeup on your neck and chest again.
“Hey guys!” Spencer approached. You saw JJ glance at him quickly.
“Spence. About last night.. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten that drunk.” She apologized quietly. He shook his head and smiled.
“I already told you JJ, it’s okay. I was more than happy to get you home.” They exchanged smiles and JJ walked away, the rest of the woman following close behind.
“So, you making a habit of going to your female coworker’s houses late at night now?” You asked him. He seemed taken aback.
“What? No. What? Is that how you think of me? I didn’t- I wouldn’t take advantage of her, she was drunk-“ he began explaining frantically.
You felt bad, quickly explaining. “No, Spencer, it’s okay. I know, I know. I was joking. It was nice of you to take her home.” You assured him.
“Good. I don’t… I don’t want you to see me like that.” He sighed. “What did you do after I left?” He asked, moving on.
“Fucked a guy in the bathroom.” You said nonchalantly, testing him.
“Oh, I’m sure you did. Don’t think I don’t remember what you said last night.” He warned.
You found yourself falling into the trap again. Witty banter that would end with you pinned up against some surface and calling him daddy. Nope. Not this time.
“I really can’t recall. I was drunk, remember?” You shrugged, walking away before the situation could get any worse. He didn’t stop you, you noticed, as you made your way to your desk.
“What did you all do last night? You’re walking around like zombies,” Hotch asked you as you passed by him.
“Drank too much.” You sighed.
“And where was my invite?” Derek piped up.
You threw your hands up, a show of innocence. “Don’t ask me, ask your lover Garcia. She made the plans, I was just told to show up.” Spencer was back at his desk now, watching you. “Kid genius over here got an invite, though.” You directed Derek’s attention his way.
Derek walked towards him, giving you the freedom to finally take a seat at your desk. You spaced out almost immediately, mind wandering. What would have been said if you hadn’t walked away from Spencer? Did anything at all happen when he left the bar with JJ? And why the fuck did you give a shit? Self-reminder: you’re trying to let this go, not linger on it for the entirety of the foreseeable future. You were so busy scolding yourself in your head you didn’t realize that a box had been dumped onto your desk. Speak of the devil.
“What’s all this, Spencer?” You asked.
“Files.” He explained. “Files that I think need organizing.”
You looked at him quizzically. “I don’t think that organizing random files is a part of my job,” You stuck your hand into the box. “…This box is empty.” You stared at him blankly. He feigned surprise, causing you to roll your eyes.
He placed a hand on your desk, leaning over, his voice low and quiet. “In 10 minutes Hotch is going to have a meeting with Derek and Prentiss, I overheard them talking about it. JJ and Garcia will be in Garcia’s den going over the info for one of our old cases to make sure there’s nothing they’re missing to help the prosecutor of the unsub. Where do you think we should go?” You narrowed your eyes at him. If he thought he was going to get you to do… this with him again, especially at work, he must’ve been out of his mind. “You want me to choose? That’s fine. I’ll see you in the storage room.”
“No.” You said simply. “Not happening. No Bueno. Nada.”
He exhaled sharply, breath fanning out over the back of your neck. “See you in 10, agent.”
You were making a bad decision. You knew that. So why, then, were you walking towards the storage room when you noticed the bullpen was almost completely empty. Why did you knock on the door? Why did you open it and walk inside when you realized no one was there. Was this a prank? The only things in the room were boxes upon boxes of files and an old desk. Why were you here again? You stood there, confused, until the door opened. Spencer was already tugging the tie around his neck off, meeting your eyes. “You came.” He didn’t sound surprised. You wished he would’ve at least sounded a bit surprised.
“I wanted to know what the fuck you were going on about.” You replied as nonchalantly as possible.
“Strip.”
You froze.
“Y/n you knew exactly what was going to happen when you came here. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
There it was again. The warmth. The innate desire to please him, to follow orders.
“I can do it for you, but I can’t promise your clothes will be in perfect condition when we walk out of here.” His tie was off now. He held it in one hand, the other running through his hair as he observed you. You moved to pull off your shirt, dropping it to the floor. He hummed in approval.
“Good girl.”
You quickened your pace a bit, sensing his impatience, until you were shamefully exposed. Goosebumps rose upon your skin, the cold air a sharp contrast to the heat of your body.
“Look how quickly you give in. You’ve always been eager to please, though.” His eyes were raking up and down your body.
“How is it fair that I’m like.. this. And you get to be fully clothed?” You groaned, embarrassment growing. You should have never walked into the storage room.
“Patience, baby.” He chuckled, a hand moving to undo his belt. “You wanna know how I knew you’d come?”
You nodded.
“Because as much as you try to fight it but your body already knows who you belong to. Already knows that you need me, regardless of how hard you try to ignore it.” Fuck. Fuck. What if he was right? Was he right? Were you just braindead and horny at all times? “Come here.”
You approached him. You were already naked, what point was there in arguing now? You could resent yourself and your actions at a later date. He ran a hand over your body, tracing the outline of your skin. He was breathing heavily, a contrast to how calm and collected he looked on the outside.
“Turn around and give me your wrists.”
When you didn’t reply immediately he opted to grab your waist and spin you around. You were pressed against him now, feeling how hard he was through his pants. “Now for these,” he took your wrists in one hand and you heard the clank of his belt moving around and then, suddenly, the rough texture of leather wrapping around your wrists.
“O-Oh my god, Spencer, what are you doing?” Your face had turned bright red and you were actually kind of thankful that he had turned you so you weren’t facing him.
The leather tightened. You tried to flex against the restraints, testing them, but your hands were now held firmly in place. “You can turn back around now,” he sounded proud of himself. You hated it.
You faced him, hands tied behind your back, and watched with shaky breath as he pulled down his pants. “Why don’t you apologize for saying no to me earlier?” He suggested.
“You wish.” you grumbled, refusing to give in that easily.
“I’m sorry, which one of us is naked and tied up right now? I don’t have to make this easy for you. If you want me to fuck the attitude out of you again I certainly will."
You gulped. “H-How can I apologize, sir?”
Spencer bit his lip harshly. Maybe he wasn’t expecting that response, but honestly neither were you. "I think you already know how.” He replied, brushing your hair out of your face.
You sunk to your knees, the rough floor already feeling uncomfortable, but you persevered. He stepped forward, a hand immediately rest on top of your head, blunt nails digging into your scalp. You leaned forward, taking him into your mouth slowly. He leaned his head back, exhaling through gritted teeth. Your eyes were glued to him, looking up through your lashes, and you could feel the need inside of you grow. How did he manage to look so fucking good? You found it hard to control yourself considering you had absolutely no use of your hands or arms, but that didn’t bother Spencer. He pushed you forward a bit and you gasped, coughing a bit. You heard him chuckle. You started bobbing your head, your tongue moving in synch. He was still guiding you, gently rocking his hips to meet your movements. Your eyes watered as he began to speed up, though, pressing your face pressing against his skin with each push of his head and thrust of his hips. “Look at you, all tied up and pathetic,” he breathed out. “Is there any question who owns you? You don’t care when or how, you let me use your body without question.” You were struggling to breathe, tears falling down your cheeks, but you didn’t care. Your only thoughts were of Spencer. Pleasing him. Earning his praise. “As much as I’d love to cum in that pretty little mouth of yours, I think I’d rather watch you beg for me.” He slowed down a bit, eventually releasing you from his grip. You almost fell over, losing your balance as you sputtered and gasped. He helped you up, running a thumb over your swollen bottom lip. “Do you want daddy to fuck you?” He asked.
“Yes, please, daddy.” You replied quickly, obediently. He let out a satisfied hum. “We’re still at work, I’ll have to keep you quiet.” He leaned down, picking up his tie from the ground. “Open.” You coyly opened your mouth and he brushed his thumb over your cheek soothingly, shoving the fabric into your mouth. He did it so gently that you almost forgot that he was about to fuck you in the storage room of an FBI office building. “Look at you, actually learning how to do what daddy says.” He turned you around once again and began to push you a bit, walking you towards the abandoned desk, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and leaving butterfly kisses down your jawline. His finger trailed between your legs. His thumb played at your clit, running torturously slow circles, and he kept at this for a bit, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you of your place. Slowly but surely you could feel your climax approaching, but when your moans started becoming louder from behind the fabric he stopped. You tried to turn your head to look back at him but you didn’t have a chance.
“Now you’re gonna be a good girl and take it.” The gentleness of his voice dissipated and he bent you down onto the desk, the cool surface prickling your warm skin. You mumbled against the fabric in your mouth, pleading. He paused, considering, and without warning, he pushed himself inside of you with a low groan. You let out a muffled cry, body trying to refamiliarize itself with the feeling of being so full. You were moaning, spit dribbling down from around the fabric of his tie. “God, fuck, I missed this,” Spencer said through a strained whisper. He fucked you fast, a bruising grip on your hips, and you couldn’t do a single thing but lay there as he did. Eventually, he moved his hand up to your lower back, pressing you further down onto the desk, your face shoved into the smooth wood surface. “You told them last night that I wasn’t your best, huh? Well, I guess I’ll just have to fuck you so hard that I ruin you for anyone else.” He was speaking a bit too loud now, you feared, but there was nothing you could do to indicate that to him. You could only let out muffled sounds of pleasure as he thrusted in and out of you. Your legs were starting to shake, they were still a little bit sore from the weekend, but you were already feeling yourself get too lost in your pleasure to care about the aches and pains.
“Who else could fuck you this well, huh?” You couldn’t see his face but he sounded almost angry. “Who else could satisfy a slut like yourself? You need this. You need me to fuck you.” He was too loud. Too fucking loud. And you knew it, but you could barely bother to care. He was fucking you so well you didn’t care if the whole FBI heard you. “You’re so fucking perfect, so hot, especially like this, so helpless, so easy to control.” You were so close, moaning, wishing you could see how good Spencer looked while absolutely ravishing you against the desk. He was close too, you could tell because his movements were once again becoming more erratic. He grabbed the end of the belt that was restraining your wrists, tugging on it hard enough to force you into an upright position, back pressed against his chest. You mewled in pain but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” He growled onto the skin of your neck. You nodded frantically. The hand that wasn’t holding you up by your restraints came from behind, wrapping around your neck and squeezing your pulse. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull, the only sound that you could focus on being the sound of skin meeting skin. “Cum for me, then. Cum for daddy.” You couldn’t speak before, but with Spencer’s hand around your neck, you could barely make a noise either. Your legs shook as you came, feeling Spencer do the same not too long afterward. His grip around your throat loosened and he gently pulled the tie out of your mouth as pulled out of you. You gasped for air, still suspended in the upright position he was holding you in. After allowing you to breathe he carefully pulled you off of the desk, standing you up straight and undoing the belt wrapped around your wrists. They were sore and you rubbed them gently, meeting his eyes.
“You were loud,” you breathed out, voice hoarse. “What if someone heard?”
He zipped up his pants and wiped the sweat from his forehead, pocketing his tie which has been rendered unwearable.
“No one heard.” He reassured you and you followed suit and redressed.
“I can’t believe that you… that we…” You stared at him, emotions taking hold, and you felt your eyes water.
He noticed, eyes widening in panic. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly.
“No, no. I’m fine. I’m fine. Just… randomly feeling emotional.” You dismissed him, eyes directed at the floor.
“Oh. Don’t feel bad, that’s actually quite common. It’s called post-coital dysphoria, or PCD. It’s when you experience intense emotions like sadness or melancholy after sex. It’ll go away in a few minutes.”
There he was, always ready to tell you exactly what was wrong. It was nice to know it was normal, you guessed, but you wished you could’ve gotten some actual sympathy. Oh well. It would be gone in a few minutes, right?
“One of us should probably leave first, you know? Stagger our arrivals.” Spencer suggested. You nodded. “I’ll go first. I’m gonna head to the bathrooms.”
Spencer gave you a small smile and wave as you exited. You made your way to the bathroom, and as you passed by the main office-space you noticed Hotch in a room with Derek and Emily. Thank god, at the very least they hadn’t heard you. You scurried to the bathroom, walking inside to see Garcia.
“Hey babycakes!” She grinned. “You look like you’ve been through a wind tunnel,” she noticed. You laughed. “Long day. Hangovers are a bitch.” You ran into a stall and waited until she left the bathroom to use the mirror and fix yourself the best you could. You smoothed your hair and clothes out, readjusting your lipstick and wiping the running mascara from under your eyes. When you left the bathroom you saw Spencer returning to his desk, his hair still attractively tousled. Suddenly you watched Rossi approach Spencer, and his eyes widened. Oh fuck. Wait. Had Rossi been unaccounted for this whole time? Anxiety coursed through your veins as you walked past the pair, who seemed to go silent as you came into view.
Fuck. Fuck. You were fucked. And not in a good way. In the absolute worst way. You didn’t know what you would do if anyone on the team knew what had happened, but Rossi finding out was for some reason especially embarrassing. He was like a father figure to you. A cool Italian father figure. And now he potentially knew that you were having rough sex at work with your colleague. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic.
All praise Spencer Reid, king of ruining your life.
taglist <3
@101donuts @annestine @spideyboix @babybloomer @welcome-to-hoeville @eldahae @brokenanxiety @andiebeaword @spencerwaltergubler @la-vie-en-amour1 @rainsong01 @taekwinkle @dreamer7black @guessthatswhyiliveinhell @creepingfromthecorners @joyousreid
#all bets are off#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader smut#criminal minds#criminal minds smut#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you
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Heaven Sent; Part 1
Jin x Reader
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Warnings: Minor character death (nothing explicit or descirbed though), grieving families
Nothing felt necessarily different when you woke up this morning. You woke up in the same bed that you had been sleeping in for the past 6 years, in the same tiny house that you had fallen in love with years prior. You went through your shower routine as usual, and the same happened when you did your makeup and hair. You even struggled to wake your daughter Aera up this morning like you always did, because she loved to sleep in just like her daddy. By all accounts, it was a normal morning.
Except it wasn’t, because today was the day that you were burying your husband and Aera’s father.
“Mommy?” Aera called and you hummed in reply as you put the finishing touches on her ponytails. “Are you almost finished?”
“Just about,” you sighed heavily, grabbing two black ribbons and taking the time to tie each of them around the bases of the two ponytails that were in her hair. Once you were done, you picked Aera up and sat down on the edge of your bed, settling her in your lap.
“We need to have a serious talk really quick, ok Love?” You told her and she nodded her head. “You know how Daddy has passed away and how I explained it to you?”
“Yeah,” she mumbled softly.
“Well, today is going to be the last time that you see him for a long time,” you said and her face instantly bunched up.
“Not even when I’m a big grown up?” She wondered and you shook your head sadly.
“No, not even then,” you replied as you reached up and brushed back the baby hairs that framed her face. “But I want you to know that it’s ok to be sad or cry if you want to, and that you don’t have to be strong for me or anyone else.”
“Are you going to cry Mommy?” Aera questioned and you smiled sadly, choosing not to lie to her.
“Yeah I am, because I’m sad,” you nodded.
“Ok,” she agreed easily and you hugged her tightly, your chest tightening at the thought of what was to come.
........................................................
The actual service wasn’t that bad, which is something that you had anticipated. It wasn’t until you watched Hae-il’s casket being lowered into the ground that you finally broke down, and it took both your father and Hae-il’s father to haul you away while Aera sat in your mother’s lap, sobbing into her chest.
After everything was said and done, Hae-il’s parents held a small dinner back at their house and family and friends appeared to offer you their condolences.
“I’m so sorry Y/N-ah,” Yoongi whispered, holding his arms open and you immediately fell into them, hugging him firmly as you hooked your chin over his shoulder. You and Yoongi worked together at the same interior designing firm, and you had been at work with him when you had gotten the call that Hae-il had been involved in a horrific car accident. Yoongi, as well as Taehyung who was another of your coworkers, went with you to the hospital where you found out that Hae-il’s injuries were fatal.
“How are you holding up?” Taehyung asked after giving you a quick hug as well, and you shrugged lamely.
“I’m barely holding it together and that’s only because of Aera,” you confessed, taking a second to glance across the room, where Hae-il’s mother Eun Ae was trying her hardest to get Aera to eat something. “This is so fucked up for her.”
“Hey, don’t leave yourself out of that,” Yoongi said softly. “You lost someone too.”
“I know but it’s different for her,” you sighed. “She’s so young, I don’t think she really understands even though I’ve explained it to her the best that I know how.”
“It’s gonna take time Y/N-ah,” Taehyung said and you just hummed in reply. Suddenly, you heard a loud squeal and you whipped your head to the side to see Aera sliding down off of Eun Ae’s lap and running across the room. Your eyes followed her to the front door and your eyes widened when you saw Kim Seokjin standing there.
“Uncle Jin!” You heard Aera cheer, her squeals bouncing throughout the house as Jin picked her up and hugged her to his chest.
“Guys, give me a sec,” you said and after receiving a nod from Taehyung and Yoongi, you turned and walked over to the door.
“How are you, little heart?” Jin asked Aera and she shrugged her shoulders.
“I’m sad,” she answered truthfully and you saw Jin sigh heavily before nodding his head and gently patting her back with one of his large hands.
“That’s ok, because today is a sad day,” he told her. He then looked up and saw you walking towards him, and the same sad smile that had been on everyone else’s face whenever they talked to you today was now on his face as well.
“Hi Y/N,” he greeted you and you did your best to smile, leaning forward and giving him a quick one-armed hug. Jin and Hae-il had met in university, becoming close very quickly and remaining as such throughout the years. You had of course met Jin several times but with him living in Japan overseeing the chain of restaurant that his father owned, you and Hae-il rarely saw him over the last 3 or 4 years. He was Aera’s godfather though, and he loved her almost as much as you and Hae-il did.
“Hey, I didn’t see you at the service,” you muttered and the sad smile on his face turned apologetic.
“My flight was late so I only caught the tail end of it,” he explained. “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s ok. Besides, Hae-il knows how much you cared.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss Y/N,” he said, and it looked like tears were beginning to form in his eyes. However, he quickly recovered and continued. “You guys meant so much to Hae-il.”
“Thank you,” you nodded. “There’s food and stuff here, so feel free to help yourself.”
“Alright.”
“Aera, why don’t you come with me so that Uncle Jin can eat?” You suggested as you reached out for her but she shook her head and snuggled further into Jin’s suit jacket.
“Wanna stay,” she muttered.
“It’s ok Y/N, I got her,” Jin told you and you raised an eyebrow.
“You sure?” You checked.
“It’s no problem. Besides, I missed my favorite girl,” he smiled, leaning down and kissing the top of Aera’s head. “Did you miss me, little heart?”
“Lots,” she whispered and Jin gave you a small nod as if to say “I told you so” before stepping around you and walking towards the kitchen. As you turned around to watch them, your mother walked up to you.
“Are you hungry Y/N?” Chae-won asked and you shook your head. “I can make a plate for you if you want.”
“I’m not hungry Mom,” you replied.
“You sure? I haven’t seen you eat anything today.”
“I’m fine,” you stated firmly and the tone of your voice showed your mom that you didn’t want to keep talking about it, so she let it go.
“Who was that man carrying Aera just now?” She wondered instead.
“That’s Kim Seokjin. He and Hae-il have been close since University and he’s Aera’s godfather,” you explained.
“That’s the uncle Jin that she’s always going on about then,” your mother chuckled. “He must be great with her, because he’s the first person that she’s let hold her today besides us and Hae-il’s parents.”
“He loves her,” you confirmed. A few seconds of silence passed between the two of you then before your mother sighed heavily, and you already knew what she was going to say.
“Y/N, I really wish you would reconsider our offer to let you and Aera move in with us for a while,” Chae-won said.
“No.”
“You’ve never had to raise Aera alone before and it’s going to be a tough adjustment,” Chae-won continued. “You’re gonna need the support.”
“Maybe so, but I can’t and won’t rip Aera away from the only house that she’s ever grown up in,” you explained. “So much has changed so fast for her, and I don’t want to make any of this harder than it needs to be. Besides, that’s the first house that Hae-il and I bought together and you’re crazy if you think that I’m going to leave it now.”
“Y/N, that’s not what I was trying to-” your mother began to say but you didn’t stick around to hear the rest of her sentence, walking off as you felt the anger coursing through your body. You understood your mother’s intentions, but you also don’t think she understood exactly what it was that she was suggesting. Your house was the place that held the most memories of Hae-il and you would be damned if you were going to leave it now; not when you needed it the most.
........................................................
Once the dinner was over and everyone had left, you took Aera back home to get her ready for bed after the long day. You wanted to keep everything as normal for her as you possibly could, so giving her a bath and struggling to get her to brush her teeth the way that she should went on as they always had.
“Mommy? I have a question,” Aera told you as you helped her into her bed, pulling her covers back and watching as she climbed inside before sitting on the edge next to her.
“Yes?”
“Does Daddy love me?” She asked and your eyes widened.
“Of course he does,” you nodded. “Why would you ask me that Aera?”
“Because he left us and it hurts,” she told you. “You said that if someone loves me, then they wouldn’t hurt me.” You sighed heavily, realizing that your previous attempts to instill some self-worth into your five year old were now backfiring horribly.
“Well sometimes, people hurt us even though they don’t mean to or want to,” you began. “Daddy didn’t want to leave us and if he had been able to choose, he would’ve stayed.”
“Really?” Aera’s tone sounded doubtful as she asked.
“Really,” you confirmed, thinking for a few seconds before deciding to try a different tactic. “Do you remember what your name means?”
“It means love,” she chirped. “That’s why you call me Love and Uncle Jin calls me little heart.”
“That’s right baby,” you smiled. “Did you know that your daddy chose your name?”
“He did?” She whispered in awe.
“He did and do you wanna know why?” You asked and she nodded her head up and down rapidly.
“Why?”
“Because he loved you as soon as he knew you were in my tummy,” you revealed and her eyes widened.
“That was a long time ago,” she muttered.
“It was,” you chuckled. “So even though we can’t see Daddy anymore, he’s still sending you lots of love.”
“Ok,” she agreed, all of what you said seeming to make sense to her. “I miss Daddy, and his hugs.”
“That’s ok to miss him,” you assured her. “And how about anytime that you want to hug Daddy, you come hug me instead?”
“Really?”
“Really,” you confirmed and you didn’t have time to prepare yourself before she sat up and launched herself into your arms, wrapping her little arms around your neck. You hugged her back, making sure to squeeze her tightly the same way that Hae-il would. “I love you Aera.”
“I love you too Mommy,” she said as she let go of you.
“Alright, lay down and go to bed, ok?” You told her and she nodded, laying down and you pulled the covers over her. Once she shut her eyes, you leaned over and kissed her forehead before reaching over and turning on her nightlight. You then stood up from her bed, walking over to the door and shutting the light off. Making sure to leave the door slightly ajar so that you could hear her if she needed you, you made your way down the hallway and into your bedroom, the length of the day beginning to weigh down on your body.
By the time that you had showered and took your makeup off, you didn’t have the energy to do anything else but flop down onto your bed and pull the covers up and over your head. You felt yourself beginning to drift off and you happily welcomed it, until you smelt a familiar scent.
Your eyes popped open and then widened when you realized that Hae-il’s pillow was right in front of your face. You had been very careful to avoid it over the past week, not wanting to make things any harder for yourself. This time though, you allowed yourself to drag the pillow towards you, burying your face in the material and inhaling deeply.
“Damn it Hae,” you whimpered, the tears quickly welling up and spilling over onto your cheeks. “Why did you have to leave us?”
#bts#bangtanarmynet#bts reactions#bts imagines#bts jin#jin x reader#bts seokjin#seokjin x reader#kim seokjin#jin smut#jin fluff#jin angst#seokjin smut#seokjin fluff#seokjin angst#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#bts x reader#bts scenarios
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Trees and Seas Have Flown Away, I Call it Loving You
Summary: Derek says something hurtful, but it happens to lead to just about the best thing that's ever happened to Spencer.
Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, making up, bullying, angst with a happy ending, autistic spencer, coming out, getting together
Pairing: Morgan x Reid
Word Count: 3.2k
Masterlist // Read on AO3
Spencer is having one hell of a morning. He’d slept late, a significantly rare occurrence for him, and the metro had been delayed and diverted, leaving him to walk a decent chunk of his journey into work. To top it all off, he’d left his pencil case at home, leaving him stuck with cheap office supplies on a paperwork day.
He hates days like these, when his mood is so seriously affected by events beyond his control, and he knows he’s just going to continue to fester in his own self-prescribed misery if he doesn’t take some drastic steps to change the way he’s feeling.
After a moment of staring into space as he considers his options, he decides on a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down. Surveying the mess on his desk after opening his eyes, he tackles that next, sorting through case files that can be filed away and organising the notes he’s currently working on as well as rearranging his personal items to stop them taking up so much room. Already feeling better, he takes a few sips of water and some painkillers for the headache he can feel coming on, and locks eyes on the break room. His mid-morning coffee is due.
Elle and Derek are chatting at the counter when he pushes the door open, and he smiles at both of them. He’s still getting used to being around Elle. She’s so confident and intimidating that he’s not really sure if she likes him that much, and it definitely doesn’t help that she reminds him of the girls he used to go to school with, the ones who found it amusing to laugh at the much younger autistic boy, hiding his stuff and calling him names, standing by and laughing when the older boys would beat him up.
He tries very hard with her, though. Maybe this would be a good opportunity to build more rapport, he thinks, so he listens in while he refills the coffee machine’s water. It’s definitely got nothing to do with how much he wants to climb Derek Morgan like a tree.
Derek looks over and catches him up in that thoughtful sort of way that always gets Spencer’s stomach fluttering. “Elle’s just telling me about the hot date she had on Saturday,” he winks, nudging her in the side. “He seems like a catch.” He sips innocently at his coffee and Spencer realises belatedly that he’s being sarcastic and watches for Elle’s response. God, he wishes conversations weren’t so damn convoluted.
“Oh, fuck off, Morgan,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’re just jealous because I got laid and how long’s it been for you? Months?”
It’s Derek’s turn to roll his eyes, looking over at Spencer in a way that has him flushing pink. “Come on, Greenaway,” he laughs, “you know full well I’m not exactly lacking in that department.”
Elle gives him a dubious look, before raising her eyebrows and sipping her coffee. “Whatever you say,” she says in a patronising tone - the kind that reminds Spencer of an adult indulging a fantastical child. Derek laughs again, tapping lightly on the underside of her mug and causing it to spill over her hand a little. Spencer envies how easy it is for other people to elicit such a beautiful sound from Derek’s mouth; the few times he’s intentionally made Derek laugh he’d felt like he won a trophy, the sort he’d frame in a cabinet and show off to visitors, giving them a tour of the limited map of Spencer’s victories with a proud smile on his face.
He watches the exchange a little awkwardly, not knowing how to respond to these two very dominant personalities discussing an area he’s not overly familiar with. Unfortunately, they don’t ignore him forever and Elle looks over at him, her intense, fiery gaze already stirring up nerves in his stomach. “Anyway, what about you, Reid, when was your last hot date?” she teases, and he cannot for the life of him figure out if it’s friendly or malicious.
He flounders for only a second, cheeks heating up steadily, before Derek interjects. “Oh come on, Elle,” Derek scoffs. “Not sure Reid’s whole ‘twink aesthetic’ thing is quite what women are after, is it, pretty boy?”
Instantly, humiliation bleeds into his veins. His stomach swirls and he feels dizzy, completely out of his depth as his face reddens even further and he starts to sweat. The playful nudge that digs into his side doesn’t do anything to bring him out of the protective trance his mind’s gone into. “I--” he tries, but he’s cut off by Elle clearly growing bored of the conversation and pushing off the counter-top to leave.
She turns around for a moment as she heads towards the door, walks backwards a few steps as she delivers the final, devastating blow. “Hey, you never know, Reid,” she grins, “maybe the whole virgin genius thing will win them over instead.” She chuckles to herself as she leaves the room, door swinging closed behind her softly, leaving Derek and himself standing there in a vacuum.
Today of all days. It’s been a long time since the last time such a crushing level of humiliation was burning inside him, but he remembers the emotion like muscle memory. His body knows exactly what to do as his gut swirls and his head spins, sweat beading on his skin as though the very little self-esteem he had left is leaking steadily: the stopper that had been keeping the small amounts of confidence he had inside him degraded and dissolved by his coworker’s careless words, nothing there anymore to stop it leaking out of him.
It’s not new. But the sting is so much more visceral when it’s shocked into him by two people he considered friends and one person he was hopelessly, desperately in love with. It feels exactly like high school and university did: the toleration of his presence for intellectual reasons, for everything Spencer had to offer, but ultimately the social rejection of him as a human being when it actually came down to it. He was useful to the team for as much as he could give them. And that was it.
Derek takes a sip from his mug as Elle leaves, but he doesn’t notice Spencer’s completely frozen state until he tries to move on to another topic. “Spencer?” he asks, obviously concerned at his non-response and completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. “What’s wrong?”
He can’t find the words to respond, but he does manage to meet Derek’s eyes and he just stares at him for a few seconds before he shakes his head and looks away again. Derek’s clearly confused, but that only makes it worse. Is he overreacting? Or is Derek just truly that oblivious to the cruelty in his words, to his feelings?
Feeling the tears burning in his eyes and adamantly refusing to cry in the middle of the breakroom, he turns around and hurries to the bathroom without saying a word.
⭐️
He barricades himself into a stall and sits on the closed toilet seat as tears steadily spill down his cheeks. This is exactly the reason he hasn’t told a soul at the FBI -- how would a group of alpha personalities who were likely the most popular kids in high school, likely would have bullied him if they’d attended the same school, that he was gay?
The humiliation stings more coming from Derek. Such negative association with his sexuality had proved himself right: this was a secret he needed to keep quiet. It just hurt so badly that the man he loved seemed so dismissive, so rude about something so integral to his being, and the allusions the entire exchange had to previous traumas had him struggling for breath through the steady stream of tears.
It takes him a few minutes but he eventually manages to calm himself down. He splashes some cool water onto his heated skin and tries his hardest to breathe deeply, even though it feels almost impossible at first. Usually when he gets worked up and has a meltdown or a panic attack he’s able to talk himself out of it after he’s calmed down a little; able to rationalise and apply logic to the situation, which tends to illuminate either an overreaction or a clear path through the problem.
That coping mechanism is not applicable, though - Derek and Elle truly hurt his feelings and there’s no way around that. Instead, he just tries to push it to the edge of his mind. He thinks through the quantum physics problem he’d started at breakfast, and the logical progression through the formulas and rational reasoning he has to use brings his heart rate down and he feels at least a little calmer, even if the twisted knot of dread and grief and pain still sits heavy in his stomach.
He’s just solved the physics problem in his head when the door swings open and he can hear Derek’s signature tread on the bathroom floor. “Spencer?” he calls quietly, pausing as the door closes behind him for just a second before making his way to the end stall. “I know you’re in there.”
“I am in here,” Spencer confirms, resenting how weak and watery his voice sounds.
Derek sighs heavily. “I didn’t get it until I talked to JJ,” he admits, speaking through the door. “I was confused why you suddenly acted so strange so I asked her what she thought was up. I thought it was all friendly banter. To be honest, I didn’t even realise what I’d said until I was explaining it to her. But you gotta understand, pretty boy, I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry.”
Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, but the tears still escape anyway, spilling down his tears in an expression of silent grief as he listens to Derek. He takes a deep breath in through his nose and swipes the tears away from his cheek with his fingertips before unlocking the door, revealing the most apologetic expression he’s ever seen. It doesn’t make him feel much better. He still meant what he said.
He smiles weakly. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, and his voice sounds so vulnerable, it’s giving him away.
Derek’s expression doesn’t ease at Spencer’s forgiveness, he doesn’t smile and consider the issue done and dusted, he frowns harder, eyes desperate. “No, don’t dismiss it,” he says. “I hurt you, and that was wrong. I shouldn’t have said what I said, and Elle shouldn’t have either, okay, kid? I’m really sorry.”
“I know, but I’m used to it,” Spencer says, trying for a light tone and missing the mark by an embarrassing amount.
“Well you shouldn’t be,” Derek frowns. “If you’re so used to it, though, then why did this affect you so much? I’ve never seen you lose your cool like that.” He looks genuinely confused, and combined with the sorrow smothered across his features, it’s a pitiful sight.
“Don’t push, Morgan,” he warns, looking back down at his hands. His back hurts from his awkward, hunched position on the cold porcelain of the toilet.
“Seriously, Spencer, I--” Derek looks completely bewildered, caught off guard by the way he clearly expected this conversation going and the road it’s actually taken.
“I’m gay, alright?” Spencer interjects, loudly. He looks up fiercely into Derek’s eyes as he says it, but the fight quickly drains out of him and he looks down at his hands again, tensing automatically in fear of his reaction.
Derek doesn’t say anything though, so when Spencer eventually looks up again, he finds a strange expression on his face. Not mild disgust or confusion or awkwardness, but relief and fear and frustration.
“Spencer, I--” He cuts himself off as he shuffles his feet and looks away, but Spencer doesn’t miss the mournful tone as he realises the true impact of his words, how they must have hurt him. “You’re gay? That’s… why my comment was so hurtful, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to imply any kind of homophobia, I mean… I’m bisexual,” he admits, the same fear Spencer had felt swirling in his stomach written on Derek’s features.
“You are?” Spencer replies, surprise colouring his tone. He feels a surge of hope rise in his chest and he forces himself to tamper it. Just because Derek likes men absolutely does not mean he likes men like Spencer. In his experience those kinds of people tend to be fairly rare. He stands up from his uncomfortable seat, meeting Derek’s eyes properly for the first time since he entered the toilets.
What he means to do is give him a hug, or maybe have some sort of conversation on a more equal playing field. He does not mean to kiss him.
But when all of a sudden Derek’s lips are on his and Derek’s hands are cradling his cheek and waist so gently, surely it would be rude not to kiss him back. So he does. Far too passionately for a public bathroom in an FBI building, by all accounts.
They break away eventually, and Derek immediately panics. Spencer can see it rise in his eyes and body language, so before he can say anything he pulls him into the stall properly, shutting the door behind them and kisses him again, more gently this time. It’s the most confident thing he thinks he’s ever done, and he’s damn proud of himself because he does not want to go another day without Derek kissing him as tenderly as he is right now, without his hands roaming up and down his sides, without the careful brush of his fingers against the side of his head as he pushes a strand of hair back behind his ear as they pull away again.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that, pretty boy,” Derek whispers, and Spencer can feel the gentle brush of his breath against his lips.
He’s lost for words again, but in a completely different way from just minutes before, and he absolutely cannot believe this is happening. Today of all days.
“Me too,” Spencer confesses, smiling slightly as he allows himself to convey the vulnerability he’s feeling on his face instead of building up a wall in front of it as he usually would. It doesn’t take long for reality to set in though. “But we are in an FBI building and we could definitely lose our jobs for this.”
“Right,” Derek acknowledges, looking up as he puts a bit more space between them, as much as the tiny stall allows. “Later, though, we could maybe do this… not in a government building?”
Spencer’s always wondered how it feels to be on the receiving end of Derek’s romantic charm and charisma, and it’s rather overwhelming. Derek’s smiling cheekily as he interlocks their hands and waits for an answer and Spencer’s finding it a little hard to breathe again.
“Like… a date?” Spencer squeaks, face flushing again -- though admittedly in a much more pleasant manner -- as he prays he hasn’t got the wrong idea.
“Yes,” Derek smiles, “like a date.” He pauses and takes a breath, grinning wider for just a second before he suppresses it slightly and looks back at Spencer. “How about… I swing by your place at 7 and we head to that new Italian place you’ve been talking about?”
“Really?” Spencer asks, face open and vulnerable and honest. He hopes to God that he’s not being mocked right now. It’s happened before. He’s not sure Derek really understands the amount of trust he’s placing in him, the burden that might bring.
“Yes, really,” Derek chuckles, bringing a hand up to rest at the side of his face again as he thumbs gently over his cheekbone. “I’m gonna wine you and dine you, baby, just you wait and see.”
Spencer knows he won’t be able to speak without squeaking embarrassingly again, so he just nods emphatically and beams at Derek.
“I’ll see you at 7, then, pretty boy,” he winks, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. “I’ll be counting down the hours.”
⭐️
Taking care to exit the toilets separately, they return to their desks, filling out the paperwork left over from their most recent case. Spencer is certain that more than one coworker picks up on their shy, knowing looks, shared over the top of coffee mugs and cheap printer paper, but he can’t find it in himself to care. The very thing he’d craved for almost three years, since he first stepped foot in the bullpen and was introduced to Derek Morgan, was within his clutches and he was going to hold on to it no matter what it cost him.
Things feel different almost immediately: ‘pretty boy’ is infinitely more affectionate, the previously platonic touches are lingering and meaningful, Derek’s completely unnecessary paperwork consults seem more affirming and reassuring than ever. The idea that he could possibly spend the rest of his life with Derek Morgan’s hands on him, his passionate kiss on his lips, his compliments and nicknames warming him from the inside out, feels almost dizzying. He knows he’s smiling stupidly, he also knows that JJ and Elle are smiling knowingly, but he just doesn’t care.
He drives himself home and dresses in his smartest suit as soon as he gets back, even though Derek isn’t due for another 30 minutes. For reasons he refuses to acknowledge, he tidies his apartment while he waits and then takes a seat on his sofa, tapping his foot in anxious anticipation. By the time he hears a knock on his door, his heart’s in his mouth and his stomach is fluttering wildly, but that all fades to irrelevancy when he locks eyes with Derek.
“Dr Reid,” he says calmly, smile providing a soft kind of light to his face and Spencer wishes he never had to look away. He passes him a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and Spencer knows enough to recognise it’s a curated bunch, not a hasty supermarket buy but a thoughtful, purposeful trip to the florist.
“Wow,” Spencer says, and he absolutely tries to fight down the emotion rising in his throat but he isn’t quite successful. He takes the offered bouquet and examines them in closer detail, tracing an index-finger along the petal of a yellow daffodil. “New beginnings,” he whispers as tears spring to his eyes. He stares at it a little longer before looking up to meet Derek’s softened, deep brown eyes. He’s still in disbelief that someone would go to the lengths of researching the language of flowers for him, knowing it was something that he liked. “Thank you.”
“New beginnings,” Derek repeats, taking another step closer, “love me, desire, wisdom, and affection returned.” He lifts a hand to rest on Spencer’s cheek again and looks deep into his eyes for just a moment, conveying all he needs to with one look, and leans in to kiss him.
⭐️
Aaaaand this is the conclusion to my 12 Fic Challenge! Thank you to everyone who supported my fics through this journey, I can’t believe all the amazing things it’s led to and I’m so happy that this is the fic to end it. I’m so excited for what’s next in store, so stay tuned! <3
@strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez
#my writing#criminal minds#criminal minds writing#criminal minds fic#criminal minds angst#criminal minds fluff#moreid#moreid writing#moreid fic#moreid angst#moreid fluff#derek Morgan#spencer reid#derek morgan/spencer reid#derek morgan x spencer reid
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