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seungkw1 · 22 days

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better late than never — kmg

♡ pairing: kim mingyu x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], best friends to lovers, non-idol au ♡ wc: 2.7k ♡ warnings: size kink, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), riding, unprotected piv sex (stay safe y’all), creampie, mingyu is a boob guy, praise kink if u squint ♡ a/n: written for my bestie <3 and posting just in time for his birthday - happy mingyu day!!

knock-knock-knock-knock

“come on! let me in!!”

you approach your front door, but you don’t unlock it yet.

“what happened to the copy of my key i gave you?” you inquire to the voice on the other side.

“i forgot it!”

you turn the deadbolt, opening the door to reveal the man standing outside - the look on his face is sheepish as he stands there, arms full of grocery bags.

“kim mingyu i asked you to get me three things, not the entire store,” you say incredulously.

“i saw your fridge the other day. you literally only had cheese, beer, and a jar of pickles in there,” he retorts, shooting you a judgemental look.

“the three main food groups.”

mingyu rolls his eyes as he enters your apartment. “whatever, i'm cooking you dinner. a real dinner.”

“aye aye captain,” you say as you jokingly salute him.

you met mingyu freshman year of college, when he burst through the door of your dorm room - thinking it was his own (he was on the wrong floor). his eyes turned wide as saucers as he realized his mistake.

“SORRY,” he blurted out before fleeing out of the room. he was gone before you had even processed what happened.

the next day he returned - this time knocking first. you opened the door to see the tall man, holding two packs of ramen.

“sorry about yesterday,” he apologized, still a bit embarrassed. “i'm an idiot and thought i was on the sixth floor.”

“you're not an idiot, mistakes happen. it's okay,” you assured him amiably.

“thanks, i’m glad you’re not mad at me or anything,” he replied with a smile. he extended the ramen to you. “it’s not much but i just… felt like i should bring a gift for some reason?” he told you, looking like he was second guessing himself as the words came out of his mouth.

“ooo it’s the good kind too,” you replied eagerly as you took the ramen from him. “you wanna have one right now?”

he looked surprised, but delighted at your suggestion.

“actually that would be awesome, those were my last two,” he admits with a laugh. you grin back at him.

“well, come on in. again.”

–

and so mingyu inadvertently became your best friend. if not for the dorm incident, you probably never would have even crossed paths with him - he was your typical business bro, while you were majoring in psychology and literature. but, something just clicked between you two.

a handful of years later now, he’s still your closest friend. and here he is, in your kitchen, grabbing the appropriate pots, pans, and utensils to get started on his spaghetti carbonara. as independent of a person as you are, you're not particularly the best chef - so you're grateful for his culinary expertise and willingness to make food for you.

over dinner, mingyu is his usual chatty self. he tells you about his day, about how his neighbor has picked up the irritating hobby of learning to play the trumpet, about the dog he met yesterday while at the park, about his new coworker who seems to like him a little too much.

“well, is she cute?” you ask nonchalantly, swirling the wine in your glass.

“huh?” your question seems to catch him off guard. “i don't know. i mean, i've never thought about it.”

“bullshit,” you tell him, taking a big sip.

“it's true!”

“right. well think about it, is she?”

“she's conventionally attractive i guess. i don't know why it matters though,” he says sincerely.

“well if she likes you and she’s cute, you should ask her out.”

“that would be extremely unprofessional,” he scoffs, appalled at your suggestion. “besides, she's not my type.”

“what, is she weird or something?”

“no. and besides, i like weird. but i definitely don't see her like that.”

“what do you mean, you like weird?” you ask, raising your eyebrow.

“i mean, you’re weird. and i like you.” he says it matter-of-factly, as if he was telling you the grass is green.

“okay well obviously you don't want to date me,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “but come on, you haven't dated anyone in years. i'm trying to help to you here.”

the expression on his face changes, but you can't quite decipher what he’s thinking.

“i don't need help.”

you give him a weird look.

“not like that!” he quickly insists. “i just mean, don't worry about me, i’m fine.”

“ooookay, whatever you say gyu.”

his face remains calm, but you notice the corners of his mouth twitch upward slightly. normally, he’s not a fan of the nickname, but you know you're the only one who's allowed to call him that. he’s told you before.

“well, what about you?” he asks suddenly.

you look at him while chewing a big bite of pasta, confused. “what about me what?”

“are you, like… seeing anybody these days?”

he speaks timidly, as if treading on eggshells.

“why? are you asking me out?”

“ha ha, very funny,” he says sarcastically. he then shrugs. “i was just curious.”

“i actually did go on a date last week,” you admit. he looks up, surprised.

“really? how'd it go?”

“surprisingly, really good,” you tell him.

“that's good. you have a long history of terrible first dates.”

“it was a second date, actually.”

mingyu pauses. “and you didn't tell me about the first one? fake as hell.”

“oh shut the fuck up,” you tease back, grinning at him.

he picks up the bottle of wine sitting on the table. “should we finish this?” he asks.

“duh.”

he removes the cork, pouring you another glass before refilling his own.

after the delicious meal, you begin to clean up the kitchen, but mingyu quickly gets up and takes the dishes from your hands.

“i got it.”

“you did all the cooking, let me do it,” you tell him.

“nope,” he insists, already scrubbing plates.

you help anyway, but mingyu is fast. the kitchen is sparkling within ten minutes.

“damn, this looks better that it did before you got here,” you remark as you start the dishwasher.

“don't go on a third date.”

you freeze. you look back at mingyu - he's reclining against the kitchen counter. his face, sincere.

“what?” you ask hesitantly.

“i said, don't go on a third date.”

he rises, walking toward you. he stops inches away from you, extending his arms, leaning his palms on the counter on either side of you. his face hovers above yours, his warm eyes locked onto yours.

“gyu, are you drunk?” you ask, knowing full well he's not. your heart is suddenly pounding.

“i'm not.” he brings his hand up to your chin, tilting your face upwards. “can i kiss you?”

you’re stunned, standing motionless, breathing deeply as he strokes your jawline softly with his thumb. sure, you’d thought about the possibility of dating mingyu before. more than once, even. and you figured he’d probably thought about dating you before. but truly, you never thought he had serious feelings for you.

but here you are, pinned against your kitchen counter by your best friend. your best friend, who happens to be incredibly attractive. and the way your heart is racing - you really do want to kiss him right now.

you try to think logically, rationalizing whether this is a good decision, but the emotional part of your brain takes control. you kiss him. you kiss him - and he kisses you, and you stand there, in your best friend’s arms, kissing each other, as if you'd both been waiting for this moment for years. and deep down, you know you have been.

mingyu grabs hold of you, pulling you up onto the counter. you wrap your arms around his waist, running your hands slowly up and down his torso, feeling his toned body through his soft shirt. he caresses you gently, kissing you still - you're suspended in time, just the two of you, bodies connected like never before. you suddenly cannot believe you've spent years with this man and never once made out with him - but better late than never.

he softly brings his hands to your sides. your lips finally part - you instantly miss the sensation. he slides his hands under your shirt, pausing right before he reaches your breasts.

“can i touch them?” he asks, his voice breathy. you nod fervously. he caresses your over your bra, kissing you again as he squeezes your tits in his large hands. you inadvertently let out a soft moan. mingyu grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it off of you. he looks at you in awe.

“you're so perfect.”

he is utterly gushing and swooning over you right now. you feel your heart skip a beat.

you slip your hands under his shirt, running your hands over his abs and chest. he pulls his shirt off too, standing there before you. you've seen mingyu shirtless before, but not like this. his muscles are striking, perfectly sculpted - his golden, sunkissed skin glows beautifully. you feel a sudden, strong carnal urge to lick him, kiss him, bite him all over.

you look up at him - the look in his eyes reciprocating your desire. you hop off the counter, taking his hands in yours. you pull his arms, tugging him in the direction of your room. his cheeks turns flush as he realizes your intent - a roguish grin spreads across his face, revealing his pointy canines you’ve always loved.

mingyu wastes no time taking your pants off as you throw yourself onto the bed, reclining against the soft pillows. he gazes at you lustfully as you lay there in your lingerie, unzipping his pants and pulling them off as fast as humanly possible. you feel throbbing in your core at the sight of him standing there - his light gray underwear doing absolutely nothing to disguise the prominent erection underneath.

he crawls into bed, his body hovering above yours. you wrap your arms around his broad torso, pulling his large frame into yours as you begin to move your hips, grinding against his cock - the wet spot on your panties grows as you rub your cunt against him. it was clear from the moment he took his pants off that he is big, but feeling its length, its thickness, against your clothed pussy is making you clench around nothing - making you wish you were clenching around him instead.

mingyu gently grabs your arms, pinning them next to your head as he interlocks his fingers with yours. his lips lightly graze against yours.

“are you sure you want to do this?” he asks softly. you nod immediately.

“yeah.”

he buries his head into the crook of your neck, kissing you repeatedly. he gradually makes his way down your body, his hands moving to take your bra off, but he pauses.

“can i-”

“you can do whatever you want to me,” you interject.

you feel his cock twitch. “oh god, don't tell me that.”

he unclasps the hook, letting out a moan at the sight of your bare tits. immediately he takes your nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud before taking it between his lips. he sucks on your tit like his life depends on it - his hand squeezing and pinching the other as his cock grinds against your core. you're gone already - a moaning mess, putty in his hands. he eventually switches sides, cool air hitting the wetness remaining on your nipple. you get the feeling mingyu could suck your tits forever.

he eventually moves on, planting kisses down your stomach as he situates himself between your legs. he kisses your inner thighs - slowly approaching your core, but not touching you just yet. you whimper as he finally touches his lips to your clit over your thoroughly wet underwear. he licks you slowly, his tongue running over the thin fabric several times before he slips his finger underneath, pulling your underwear aside, exposing your soaked core. he groans at the sight of it.

“fuck, just as pretty as i imagined.”

you part your lips to say something, but your words become lost - instantly replaced with cries of pleasure as he begins eating you out. you run your fingers through his hair, grasping onto it as he sucks repeatedly on your clit. he places a large hand on your belly, applying pressure, as he takes two fingers to your pussy, slipping them in with ease. you moan as he begins to fuck you, your hips beginning to buck.

“more,” you beg.

you cry out as he adds a third finger - your cunt has never felt so full, but you know this is nothing compared to how his cock would feel in you. he continues sucking your clit, heat rising in your lower stomach as you feel yourself nearing orgasm. you writhe in pleasure, screaming mingyu’s name as he makes you cum - and he makes you cum hard.

your head spins as you come down from your powerful high. as you catch your breath mingyu crawls back up, laying against you, his radiant body heat making your skin turn hot. he strokes your cheek, pressing his lips hungrily against yours once more.

“can you… will you ride me?”

your pussy throbs at the mere thought. wordlessly you nod. mingyu reaches down, sliding your panties off before discarding his own underwear. you gasp softly as his cock springs free. you reach down, taking hold of it - its size making your hand appear tiny in comparison. he leans his head back, sighing as you stroke his length, your palm becoming wet with his precum.

you give him a push, rolling over on top of him. his tip grazes your wet cunt as you straddle him, his eyes locked onto yours intensely. you sit up, taking his cock in your hand, rubbing it against your folds a few times, before finally slipping it inside. you slowly lower yourself onto it, whining softly as its thickness stretches you. mingyu groans as you bottom out, sitting entirely on his cock. you haven’t even moved yet, but his breathing is heavy, inhaling deeply as he reaches up to grab onto your breasts. you begin to ride him, slowly moving your hips up and down, his cock filling you up beyond anything you could’ve imagined. you gradually increase your pace, both of you moaning at the overwhelming sensation, until you are fully bouncing on his cock, your palms resting against his muscular chest to steady yourself as you unravel over him.

mingyu begins to whimper. “you’re so fucking hot,” he utters between heavy breaths. “you’re gonna make me cum.”

you ride him relentlessly, crying out at how good he feels inside you. his eyes close as he releases, thrusting his hips powerfully as he cums in your pussy - the warmth of his cum filling you up. your pace slows, riding him gently as he finishes, his moans tapering off as he begins to come down. you settle onto his cock, laying on him as you kiss him. he kisses you back lovingly, one hand running through your hair, the other caressing the small of your back. you lay there for a while, his chest rising up and down as he breathes deeply. your heartbeat slows, pounding heavily in your chest as you recover.

slowly, he finally pulls out. you roll to his side, wrapping your arms around him in a warm embrace, squeezing him with all your might. he giggles.

“mingyu?” you ask softly after several moments of silence.

“hm?”

“you should’ve told me sooner.”

he sighs. “i wanted to - many times. but i didn’t want to risk our friendship. i didn’t think you felt the same way.”

“i think… i think i’ve always loved you. i just never realized it.”

mingyu smiles. he gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“so… what does this mean? for us,” he asks you.

you look up - his warm eyes are fixated on you, optimistic, awaiting your answer.

“well, i really don’t think anything is going to change.” a nervous look washes over his face - you quickly add, “except that we fuck now and also i want you to be my boyfriend.”

he closes his eyes, letting out a laugh. he pulls you closer into his embrace.

“i like the sound of that.”

–

#ren's fics ੈ♡₊˚•.#kim mingyu #mingyu smut #mingyu fics #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #svt fics #svt smut #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen smut #seventeen fics #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #mingyu x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader

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strangersteddierthings · 10 months

Text

The Interview

Inspired by this post by @xoxoladyaz. Read on Ao3.

Eddie wakes up to one single missed call from Gareth on his private phone.

No one calls his private phone.

He dials back instantly.

"Hey Eddie," Gareth greets. He sounds tired.

"What's up? What's happened?" Eddie asks, a thousand and one scenarios running through his mind. Gareth is in Indianapolis, and Eddie's thoughts are filled with only his uncle back in Hawkins.

"Nothing's happened that we can't deal with, or rather, that I've already been dealing with. But, uhh, there's an interview you should watch. Let me send you a link-" there's a pause as Gareth does just that "-and just call me back after you've watched it. I know we usually ignore the shit people say about us but this- it's different."

"Okayyyy," Eddie says slowly. "I'll watch it."

They hang up without goodbye because Eddie's just going to call him back after the video. Opening his messages he sees the link, and then Gareth sent a follow up text you need to watch from 12:32 onward.

The video is nearly two weeks old already, and YouTube shows him a face he knows. Robin Buckley looks older but it's definitely her. Her hair isn't styled much differently than she had it in high school, just above her shoulders and a little wild. She's wearing a three piece suit in emerald green, slightly oversized on purpose by the look of it. She's sitting in a chair, cradling a grammy with one arm, as the interviewer sits across from her.

Eddie taps the screen and drags the progress bar closer to the 12-minute mark and listens. He hears the tail end of Robin's response to some question about her album before the interviewer asks what must be the question Gareth wants him to listen to.

'So, I think everyone is dying to know if you and Eddie Munson are friends. You're both from Hawkins, Indiana. Isn't that correct?' the interviewer asks.

Robin's smile slips a bit, 'I- uhh, this is going to be unprofessional of me but I made a promise to someone regarding if I was ever asked about Eddie Munson. So, can I have one minute to make a phone call before I answer your question?'

'Oh. By all means, make your call.'

Eddie watches as Robin is brought her phone by someone who is probably her personal assistant. She wastes no time in unlocking it and finding whoever in her contacts list.

'No time for formalities. I've been asked about Munson. Can I tell the truth?' Robin's mic isn't strong enough to pick up whatever answer she gets on the phone but she shakes her head to whatever answer she's been given. 'I told you, I love you more than this career and I've already got the grammy. I'll handle the fallout. It's not about me. It's about you.' What follows is a few seconds of silence before Robin nods and says goodbye, ending the call and passing the phone back to the PA.

The interviewer's eyebrows are up to her hairline in shock. 'That sounds ominous. You think it's career ending?'

Robin grins and it's almost feral. 'Corroded Coffin's fans have always been ruthless, and perhaps a bit heartless, so what I have to say will certainly set them on the attack. To answer your original question, yes, Eddie Munson and I are from Hawkins. We even shared band class in high school, but that's the end of what connects us. We are not friends, but we once were.'

'Can you elaborate on that?'

'Our friendship ended ten years ago when he ruined my best friend's life for fame and fortune, and Steve's never really known a day of peace since.'

Eyes wide, the interviewer leans closer, 'Steve? As in, Hey Steve, Steve?'

Robin nods, 'Just the one.'

'Are you prepared to talk about how one song ruined your friend's life?'

'That was the purpose of the phone call. Yes, I think people should know the truth. Munson vented his bullshit breakup rage into a song and fucked off out of town. A week after its release, his fans doxxed Steve. He wasn't out to his parents, you see, and Corroded Coffin's fans, Eddie Munson's fans, outed him. They sent hate mail to his house by the ton, it seemed. The fallout from that- the aftermath-' Robin cuts off as her eyes water and she swipes at them, smearing some mascara across her cheek. 'I'm sorry. I almost lost my best friend, the platonic love of my life, that day.

'It's public knowledge, what happened, you can look it up online if you know what to look for. But it is also so incredibly personal. I want to be the one to say this because it's important. What you do in life, it has consequences, and sometimes those consequences are for other people. Whether you think it will, or not. I'd rather people hear it from a human voice, from someone who loves Steve, and not the journalist view. No offense,' Robin shoots the interviewer a sweet smile.

'None taken, please continue.'

'Steve was hospitalized, I won't give the details,' Robin says, in a watery voice as she's clearly trying to not cry at the memory. 'When Steve was finally released from the hospital, there was no one but me to pick him up. And he's going through this while nursing a broken heart. He and Munson had only been broken up for maybe a month before Hey Steve came out.

'In less than two months, Steve had lost his parents, his home, all his belongings, and the man he thought he'd marry one day. And to top it off, that man gets to become rich and famous off a venomous, hate-filled song about their breakup. It talks about Steve like he's coward for not willing to be out, yet, and how... what's the line, about conformity?'

'Conformity holds your leash, baby, so run to the end of your chain and bark,' someone off camera shouts.

'Yes, that, thanks. Accusing Steve of picking 'conformity' over his love. Steve wasn't picking conformity, he was picking safety! And the worst part? The hate mail has never stopped. Steve lived with me and my family for a few months after getting out of the hospital before the hate mail got too much, and someone showed up at my childhood home, looking for him, threatening him. They had a gun. It was traumatic. I was still in my senior year of high school-' Robin cuts off, taking deep breaths.

The interviewer reaches across to place a comforting hand on Robin's, 'I can't even imagine what that must have been like.'

Once Robin has composed herself, she says, 'sorry, this is a lot. I've had ten years to come to terms with it, and I've waited seven for someone to ask me about Munson. I didn't think it would be this hard.

'And it's not- I can't blame Munson, or Corroded Coffin, for everything that happened. He doesn't control his fans. But he's never said anything about the treatment his fans give Steve. And if they're like this towards Steve, are they like this towards all his other ex's? Does Munson not care, or, almost worse, does he not even know?' she stops again, getting a faraway look for a moment before looking at the interviewer again. 'I had to help Steve move again. Just last month. They're still finding him. Sending him hate. Doxxing him.' Now she looks at the camera directly, "Eddie Munson. Call off your fans. Stop playing Hey Steve at concerts. Isn't a decade of hurt enough?'

There isn't a lot that makes Eddie feel anything these days, he'll admit. A decade of fame has made him a bit cynical and callus. However, Robin had said something that made his insides squirm. He swipes across the screen, rewinding the video to hear Robin say Steve had lost his parents, his home, all his belongings, and the man he thought he'd marry one day. Swipe. -ents, his home, all his belongings, and the man he thought he'd marry one day. Swipe. The man he thought he'd marry one day. Swipe. Marry one day.

He pauses the video. That can't be right. That has to be a lie Robin is adding. To garner more sympathy or make Eddie, and therefore Corroded Coffin, look worse. Steve and he had been young and naive when they'd dated. There was no way they'd have ended up married, even if Eddie had stuck around Hawkins longer. Gay marriage wasn't even legal when they broke up in 2013.

Eddie unpauses, skips forward to the end and listens to Robin speak directly to him. Stop playing Hey Steve? The song that rocketed Corroded Coffin into the limelight? No way. And call off his fans? Like they're dogs he's supposed to control or something. The video ends and the YouTube algorithm shows him a number of react videos. Eddie clicks on one and falls down the rabbit hole.

At first the algorithm shows him responses in his favor. Videos made by his fans defending him, or strategically picking apart what Robin had said. Eddie wants to agree with them, he doesn't think he's done anything wrong other than live his life, but then.

Then a video of a guy wearing merch sold during their tour last year plays. He's on the right side of the video while a screen recording is on the left. It takes him less than five minutes to get Steve's past addresses found. And Eddie is... well, he's a little horrified at how long the list is. At the short amount of time Steve's spent in any one place is.

The guy in the video reads out the state, city, and how long Steve lived at each address. The longest one is when Steve made the jump from Florida to Maine, where he lived for 19 months according to the video, and that was years ago.

And then the guy, he fucking starts to speculate about where Steve might have moved to next.

"We can't know for sure, but it looks like he headed back west? You can see from the last 3 addresses he's been just jumping state lines to the next place. I'm guessing Oklahoma, Kansas or Nebraska next. If Steve thinks he can try and ruin Corroded Coffin through Robin Buckley, then it's up to us to prove him wrong," the guy is saying, and Eddie thinks maybe this guy is just exaggerating but the comment section is already filled with other people saying vile shit about what they should send to Steve or what they'd like to do to him physically and-

Eddie clicks off the video, to the next recommended. The more he watches, the angrier they seem to get. He goes to the search bar and looks for new react videos.

He finds that everyone has an opinion. He watches videos where his own fans express their disappointment in him. They talk about how Corroded Coffin runs an antibully campaign and then allows their fans to bully an ex and for not calling out the ones doxxing people, wanting to know which was the reason - does Eddie not know, or does he not care? Eddie didn't know. Truly. But he can't help but wonder if he didn't know because he didn't care.

He'd written all his feelings into a song, and now that he's older, he can see that a lot of what he was feeling is an exaggeration and dramatization of what really happened. But the point is, he'd written out his feelings and moved on.

The man he thought he'd marry one day.

His stomach twists uncomfortably as Robin's voice rings in his mind.

He continues his spiral down YouTube until Gareth calling him again breaks through and he answers.

"How is this the first time I'm hearing about Robin's interview?" Eddie demands.

"You've got a damn good PR team, that's how. I guess you fell down the rabbit hole, then?"

"How'd you-"

"Is been almost 4 hours since we talked. Doesn't take that long to watch a 30 minute video."

"Oh. Alright. So, why did you want me to watch the video? Am I supposed to respond to Robin?"

"No. People don't actually want to hear from you. They want to hear from Steve. And that's why you needed to watch. 'Cause Robin's announced that Steve's finally ready to make a statement. Robin's going to post it on her Twitter. Tonight. So, we've got to be ready. If anything Robin said turns out to be true, we might have a problem on our hands. A slander lawsuit being just the beginning."

"Fuck."

"What a way to sum it up," Gareth chuckles into the phone before his tone becomes serious, "hey, how are you doing, though? With it all?"

He thinks about it, and how he really feels, before answering. "It's been years since I've thought about Steve, y'know? I... I've had that luxury. I didn't know.... Did you?"

"No. Hell no! I'd of said something. I mean, shit man, we run an antibully campaign 'cause high school was shit to us. If I'd known at all we'd have been telling them to fuck off. Harassment's just what they call bullying adults."

Eddie swallows. "Guess we just have to wait and see what Stevie has to say."

"I'd come sit on the couch with you and refresh twitter frantically but, well, Indy's a bit of a ways off. I'll call after Robin's posted, then?"

"Yeah, man. Let's see the damage," Eddie sighed. "Talk to ya later."

"Bye."

Eddie digs out his laptop and pulls up Robin's twitter page. He adds an auto-refresher extension and sets it to refresh every minute before opening his phone and pulling up YouTube again.

#steddie #my fic #based on xoxoladyaz's ficlet #it'll be three parts i think #the interview #Steve's response and the immediate aftermath of that #and eddie meeting up with steve to talk

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piedinthepiper · 3 months

Text

You owe me (pt. 2) ☆

Mafia!Jungkook x psychologist!reader x mafia!Taehyung (slightly)

Summary: His efforts seem pointless. But when it comes to jealousy, anger and you, he just can’t help himself. And neither can you.

Warnings: yandere!Jungkook, dubcon, stalking?, breaking and entering, mention of murder, mention of other types of crimes, angst, weapons (a knife), cursing, male m, descriptive smut, angst

Wc: 7.4k

A/n: Thank you guys so much for all the feedback on this fic. Since so many wanted a part 2 I made a part 2! Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Parts: | 1 | 2 |

Your back felt a sudden relief as you finally laid down in bed. It had been a long day. A very long day. A new patient took up almost all you time. Taehyung Kim. He was being charged with robbery and murder, and his lawyer had hired you to potentially give him a diagnosis that could help him in court.

You had to assign some of your other patients to a few of your coworkers, just to make time for him. But this is what you love doing. You wanted to help. Especially now, after what you learned about your entire career. You wanted to prove yourself. You knew you were good.

You turned off you lights and put your phone on the nightstand. Finally you were in the comfort of your own bed. Ready to fall asleep and dream the night away. Trying not to think about how early you had to wake up tomorrow. You had finally found a comfortable sleeping position after squirming around a bit. You felt all your muscles relax, starting to recognise the slow fade of sleep.

But suddenly a loud noice filled the room. Your body tensed again, jumping at the sudden sound. You rolled your eyes as you turned around, annoyed at yourself that you forgot to turn on ‘do not disturb’. Your phone screen lit up in your face, you squinted at the bright light hitting your eyes. You managed to decipher a message from an unknown number. You didn’t open it, writing a mental note to check it out tomorrow. If it was one of your patients they would have to wait until the morning. It was almost unprofessional to answer a text at 1 am.

You entered the doors to your workplace, expecting to see Erin behind the counter smiling at you.

“Good morning, Erin.”

You said like you always do. You halted once you saw her sitting there, not smiling, not saying anything. She just looked at you with a concerning look. Before you could ask her what’s wrong you looked over at the waiting chairs. You had seen a person in your peripheral view, something that was odd considering the office wasn’t even open to patients yet. You quickly understood what was going on once you saw who was sitting there.

“Good morning, Doctor.”

His familiar voice filled the dead quiet room. It had almost been a year since you last saw him. He had not contacted you after the incident in your office. You had almost, almost, forgotten him. But there he was, looking the exact same as you remembered him.

“Mr. Jeon.”

You stated. Not really knowing what to say. You were caught off guard by the whole situation. Some naive part of you thought that he had gotten what he wanted and would leave you alone. Forever.

“I thought you had stopped calling me that. Aren’t we more intimate at this point?”

You sighed at his question. Looking over at Erin for a second to see if she understood what he meant.

“He said he wanted to see you. I told him we wer-“

“It’s fine Erin, Mr. Jeon can be quite persuasive.”

You interrupted her as she started to apologise for letting him in. You looked back to him. His classic smirk was plastered on his face.

“I have an hour before my first patient arrives.”

You said and looked quickly at your wristwatch, before starting to walk down the hall towards your office. You heard his footsteps following behind you.

Once inside your office you took off your jacket and hung it up before sitting down behind your desk. He was quick to sit down on the sofa. A sense of deja vu washed over you.

“Why are you here, Jungkook?”

He looked confused by your question.

“You didn’t see my messages? Or my voicemails?”

It was your turn to look confused, as you couldn’t remember getting any texts or calls from him.

“Maybe you were asleep, I don’t know.”

He shrugged. You remembered the message from last night. The one you didn’t bother to read. You picked your phone up from your bag, turning off ‘do not disturb’. Hundreds of notifications from the same number appeared on your lock screen.

“You were the one that messaged me last night?”

You asked as you opened your phone.

“So you did read them?”

He asked in excitement. You shook your head at his question, too focused on your phone. You opened iMessage and hit the top notification. A series of long paragraphs of text appeared.

“I didn’t think it was you.”

You mumbled as you scrolled upwards trying to get to the start of what he had sent you.

“Listen, I’ll just tell you. It feels weird to watch you read something I poured my heart into.”

You looked up at him, before you put the phone down on your desk. Crossing your arms over your chest.

“Be quick.”

He thought for a second about where to start and what the most important things to tell you were.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m ready now.”

The room went quiet as you waited for him to continue. He didn’t.

“What are you talking about?”

You asked confused.

“That’s the brief version of it. You told me to be quick.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“I think I need a little more than that.”

He smiled at you like a child telling a joke for the first time. He leaned slightly forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I’ve seen another psychologist. He’s helped me a lot. I’m doing well, I’m not some self absorbed dick, I’m not so angry anymore. And I’ve gotten to know your father as well. I’ve done my end of the promise, now it’s your turn, y/n.”

He got serious at the last sentence. Shifting his eyes from the innocent doe, to the man you remembered from your last meeting.

“You went to my father?”

You asked in shock, not caring for whatever he said after that.

“Yeah. Might as well get to know my future father-in-law a little better while I fulfilled my promise.”

You let your head fall down to your hands, and let out a long sigh. Visibly showing him that you were upset.

“I’m happy you’re doing better, I really am. But I did not promise you anything. Definitely not to marry you.”

His eyes changed again. You could tell he was upset.

“Don’t you think you owe me that?”

He asked slyly, cocking his head slightly to the side. You shook your head.

“You can’t hold that over my head forever. It’s not fair!”

You answered strictly.

“I’m not holding it over your head, baby. I’m asking you.”

“Well, then my answer is no. I don’t owe you shit. Now get out of my office.”

You answered quickly. Wanting him to leave so you didn’t get too upset, and started making bad decisions again.

“We don’t have to get married right away, or not at all if you just want to be my girlfriend.”

He offered. You suddenly stood up from your chair, pointing angrily towards the door.

“Out.”

You said.

“I don’t care if I owe you. I don’t care if you’ve gotten better. You’re still a mobster, you’re still a murderer and you’re still a sociopath. I could never date you. I could never even be friends with you. Don’t you understand?”

You ranted when he didn’t leave the sofa. He shook his head and kept his eyes on the floor.

“It’s him isn’t it?”

He asked, still not looking up at you. He was frightening like that. You felt the same fear, you felt the first time he talked to you like that. He was showing his true colours.

“Who?”

You asked carefully as you sat back down again. He looked up at you with anger and jealousy in his eyes.

“Your new patient. The jailbird, you spend a lot of time with him.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, and? He’s nothing but my patient.”

“Are you sure? I’ve seen him on the news, he’s quite attractive. Just your type.”

You scoffed and gave him an offended look.

“Yes I’m sure. Who are you to accuse me of having an affair with a patient?”

“Because you had one with me.”

You sighed.

“We did not have an affair.”

You stated, not daring to look him in the eyes.

“Then what do you call it?”

The room got quiet. To be honest you never thought about what you would call it. You didn’t want to think about it at all. It went against everything you stood for.

“Please, just leave.”

You said, you felt your eyes getting watery for some reason. Maybe it was because you were scared, or surprised. Or maybe even sad to see him again.

“I can tell you’re upset. We still need to work things out. Can we talk sometime? Not here, somewhere not so formal.”

You looked up at him again. His eyes were soft, he seemed to really care that you were affected negatively by this. For some reason you found it endearing.

“You can come to my place, we can talk and-“

“There’s no way I’m voluntarily going to your place.”

You interrupted him. He looked down in defeat for a few seconds.

“Please, y/n. I just want to show you that I’m better. I want to show you all I’ve done for you. I don’t want to argue with you.”

He said softly. His eyes were also teary now. You hated yourself for getting affected by his feelings. You hated that you thought this was a tender moment.

“Do you promise that we’ll only be talking?”

You asked. Not knowing why you were agreeing to this in the first place. Maybe you were naive, but it seemed that he actually had changed. Even if he still was delusional and obsessive.

“Of course, I would never do anything to harm you. I love you.”

He said, slightly excited. The room got quiet once again. You had silently agreed to meet him at his place.

“I’ll send you the address. I’ll see you on Thursday.”

He said, before getting up and walking out the door.

“Wait-“

You tried to say, but he was already gone. You wouldn’t be able to make it on Thursday.

You sat down at the table, waiting for the guards to bring in Mr. Kim. This week had been stressful. Not only because of your case with Mr. Kim, but also because of all your other patients. It was hard having time for them while handling such a big case as his. You had to work overtime the entire week, and you were exhausted.

“Good afternoon, y/n.”

He said as two guards brought him in. He had learned your first name quickly, and refused to use your title or last name.

“Hello, Mr. Kim. How are you?”

He smiled, and waited to answer until the guards had chained his legs to the table and left the room. You never felt unsafe being alone with him, even if he was a convicted murderer. His hands were always handcuffed, the same with his legs, so he couldn’t reach you. You knew the guards watched you from outside the big tinted glass. It allowed you to lower your guard, and treat him like you treat your other patients.

“I’m doing amazing now that you’re here.”

He said and smirked. Like Jungkook said, he was attractive. His hair was always combed back, and the all grey clothing actually suited him. He had some kind of lightning tattoo that went up his neck, due to his clothing you didn’t know if he had any more of them.

“How are you, sweetheart?”

He asked back. Still keeping intense eye contact with you.

“We did talk about not calling me anything but my name, do you remember that?”

You asked him strictly. He chuckled.

“It’s hard not to call you something you are, don’t you like compliments?”

You started taking off your coat. It was cold when you entered, but with two people in the little room it was too warm to keep your wool coat on.

“We’re not here to talk about me. I’ve given you permission to use my first name, that’s all.”

You said as you draped the coat over your chair. You looked back at him, he wasn’t looking you in your eyes anymore. This time his eyes were focused on your exposed cleavage. You hadn’t worn low cut tops with him yet, only oversized jumpers due to the weather. You suddenly became very aware of yourself and pulled your top up, trying to hide more of your cleavage. His eyes went back to your face, and you decided that you would wear something less revealing next time.

“Whatever you say, y/n.”

He put extra pressure on your name this time. You gave him a small smile, before you looked down at your notes.

“Why don’t we start were we ended things? Do you remember what I told you I wanted us to talk about?”

He sighed, but nodded.

“My teenage years?”

He asked. You nodded back at him.

“I was a good teenager, I didn’t do drugs, I came home before my curfew, did well in school.”

He memorised.

“But I did like girls. I really did. It was my weakness.”

He said, quickly flickering his eyes down to your cleavage again.

“Why do you say it was your weakness?”

You asked, writing it down in your notes. He started smirking again.

“Since I was such a good teenager, I stayed home a lot. After I did my homework or studied for tests I didn’t have anything to do. Until I found porn.”

He let out a groan, almost like he was in pleasure just by the thought.

“I would spend all day just jerking off to random girls online. Whenever I saw a pretty girl outside I would go straight home and jerk off to her too.”

You felt yourself getting a bit uncomfortable at his bluntness, but didn’t say anything to let him continue. You focused on your notes instead.

“It would take up my entire day, I felt crazy at times. And now that I don’t have anything to do, I find myself doing the same in my cell.”

You nodded, still looking down at your notes. Not wanting to look at him while he talked about something so intimate.

“But the only one I can think about is you.”

He said almost as if he was out of breath. You finally looked at him. And saw that one of his hands had slid under the waistband of his trousers.

“Come over here and sit on me, baby.”

He moaned. You didn’t know what to do or say, you froze. The door opened and two guards came in.

“No- please! Y/n! Please fuck me! I need you. I fucking need you so bad!”

He yelled as he was practically carried out of the room. You sat there speechless, in the now empty room.

“I think it’s best for him to have a male psychologist, I can no longer treat him.”

You called Mr. Kim’s lawyer the minute you sat down in your car. You told him what had happened.

“I’m sorry this happened to you.”

He said back.

“I’ll send all my notes to the man you’ll appoint.”

“Thank you for your help, Dr. Y/l/n.”

You said a small goodbye, before you hung up. While you were driving home you started to think about what happened today. You felt useless and it felt unfair. Why did you have to end up in all kinds of mess. First it was Jungkook, and now Mr. Kim.

Jungkook. You had completely forgot that you were supposed to meet him today. You sighed. Meeting him was the last thing you wanted to do. Maybe it was better to just say you forgot if he contacts you again. Since your session ended earlier than expected, you would actually have time to eat a proper meal and go to bed at a reasonable time. And with Mr. Kim’s case being transferred to someone else, you could finally use all your time on your normal patients. Even if the day had been horrible, you still had a massive weight lifted off your shoulders.

You walked up to your door, struggling with your keys to find the right one. Once you found it you put it in the keyhole and twisted, hearing the familiar click. You reached for the door handle and attempted to open it. But it didn’t budge. Did you not lock your door this morning? You twisted the key the other way again, and thought that it must be the exhaustion taking a toll on you.

When you finally were inside your own house you took off your coat and hung it up with your bag. You took off your shoes and looked at yourself in the big mirror you have in your hallway. You looked down at the white low cut top. It wasn’t even that low, but a part of your cleavage did show. In what felt like a fit of rage you took it off yourself. Hurriedly lifting it over your head and throwing it on the floor. You never wanted to wear that top again. You stormed over to the kitchen. You needed something to drink, you were so thirsty. So thirsty that you failed to notice the man sitting in your sofa. You swung the fridge door open, grabbing a carton of orange juice and downing what was left of it.

“Rough day?”

A voice emitted. You jumped and your heart started raising. You looked over at the sofa where the voice came from. Jungkook? Jungkook. You quickly ducked down behind the counter, remembering that you were only in your bra.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?!”

You yelled at him. You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream, you were so confused. What was going on?

“Y/n, calm down! Please.”

You heard him get up from the sofa, taking hasty steps towards you. Your fight or flight instinct kicked in and you suddenly jumped up again and grabbed a knife. Pointing it towards him. He quickly halted, putting his hands slightly up in front of him.

“Come on, it’s just me.”

He said, leaning his head to the side.

“Exactly!”

You said, slowly moving away from him.

“Why are you here? How did you get in?”

You yelled at him, firmly holding the knife between the two of you.

“Baby, please calm down.”

“How can I calm down?! You broke into my house!”

He sighed, and went quiet for a moment.

“Put the knife down, you know I won’t do anything to you. Please, let’s just talk. That’s why I’m here.”

He said in a calm voice. You shook your head, you felt like you were going to have a panic attack. This was all too much for you. You threw the knife onto the kitchen counter and covered your eyes. You started crying. You were so overwhelmed. From the situation earlier today, to Jungkook suddenly appearing in your life again, to just the pure exhaustion. You needed to cry. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You couldn’t put up the facade you usually do. And suddenly you felt two arms wrapping around you. He hugged you. And for a moment you leaned into it. You felt safe in his arms. It comforted you. It reminded you of when your father hugged you after your first boyfriend broke up with you. It was like knowing that someone cared for you when you felt as if the whole world was against you. Until you remembered who was hugging you. Because it definitely wasn’t your father. And the reality of you standing in just your bra with someone that broke into your house hit.

“Get off of me!”

You suddenly screamed, and started pushing his strong chest. Tears still streaming down your face.

“I hate you! I fucking hate you, Jungkook! My life has been a nightmare since the minute I met you!”

You screamed at him with all your lung capacity. Your throat got immediately sore.

“You’re fucking crazy! And I’m tired of playing your fucking games!”

He took several steps away from you, but you walked after him. Pointing your finger in his face.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you?! How can you be so fucking awful?! You’re an awful person!”

He continued to stay silent through your fit of rage. Letting you ride it out.

“I hate you.”

You said, calming down but still crying.

“I hate you so much.”

You said taking a deep breath. You wiped your tears. He didn’t say anything. He just stood there. Speechless. You adverted your eyes to the floor.

“Please leave. Can you please leave me alone? Please, just-“

You started, continuing to wipe your tears. You had resulted to begging him to leave your life.

“I can’t do this anymore, Jungkook. I can’t.”

He grabbed your chin softly, raising your head up to meat his eyes. He was also crying. He silently kissed you. And you let him, too exhausted to do anything else. He pecked your lips, before walking away. He left you there, all alone in your kitchen. As you heard the door close behind him you fell down to the floor. Continuing to weep.

After a month of silence from your former patient you felt content. It had been a month, and there was no sign of him. Your life had gone back to normal again. It was definitely a good thing to tell him exactly what you meant. This time you had been harsh on him, to make him understand you were definitely not interested.

After three months you started thinking that maybe you had been too harsh on him. Maybe you should’ve eased him out of your life. Not gone all crazy on him. But he didn’t contact you, and you were definitely not going to contact him. So telling him that you were sorry was out of the question.

On the fourth month you thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to contact him. Just to tell him you were sorry for being mean of course. He was really attached to you in his own weird way. Getting rejected by someone you had planned out your entire life with must be hard. What if he had gone back to his old ways? What if your rejection caused him to live in agony? To fall into depression?

On the fifth month you found yourself standing in the lobby of his hotel. If you were going to apologise, you were going to do it in person. That’s way more genuine rather than over a text. You definitely didn’t want to see him again, but anything for a real heartfelt apology!

“I’d like to see Mr. Jeon, is he here?”

You asked before the receptionist could say anything. He smiled at you.

“Is Mr. Jeon expecting you?”

He asked in a costumer support voice. You shook your head.

“No he isn’t.”

You answered short.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you access to his suite if he’s not expecting you.”

You rolled your eyes. You knew you had to lie.

“He’s not expecting me, but I’m his psychologist, ok? I need to talk with him, it’s important.”

You said in your serious voice. Shoving your business card in his face like you were a cop.

“I’m sorry-“

“You will be sorry if you don’t help me out here.”

You hit your palms onto the counter before you. The man slightly jumped at your action.

“Look, I’m not asking for the fucking key to his nightstand, I just want to know his room number for gods sake!”

You were starting to get annoyed at the poor man just trying to do his job. He looked quite frightened at your outburst. He thought for a second, before he nodded.

“717.”

He simply said. You thanked him and hurried over to the elevator. Once you reached his door you stopped yourself. Was this really the right thing to do? Maybe you should just leave, he wasn’t your concern anymore. Why weren’t you happy he was out of your life? Why? Why? Why?! The door suddenly opened, and you were sucked out of your thoughts. A man stood there, a familiar man, but not Jungkook.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

He said with a smirk on his face. He quickly pulled you into a hug. Letting his hands drop dangerously low on your waist. He took a deep inhale of your hair, letting out a small groan. It gave you instantly chills in all the wrong places. You tried pulling away from the incredibly awkward hug, but his grip on you was tight. He decided when the hug ended, but stayed close to you. Resting his hands on your hips.

“Let go of me! What are you doing here?”

You asked him and tried to get som distance from him, pushing at his chest. But his strong grip on your hips didn’t loosen.

“What are you doing here is the real question. A pretty woman like you shouldn’t be in a hotel like this.”

“Get off of me!”

He smirked and leaned in closer to you again. Whispering in your ear.

“Why don’t you come with me to my room? I still can’t get you off my mind, sweetheart.”

Someone cleared their throat loudly next to you. Taehyung reacted immediately. Jungkook. You looked at him, but he didn’t look at you. His eyes were focused on Taehyungs hands, planted on your hips.

“She said ‘get off’.”

He almost growled. Taehyung smiled, but removed his hands. Putting them defensively up in the air.

“Sorry, boss. Just had to catch up with my psychologist. She’s the girl I told you about.”

Taehyung started. You were in shock. They knew each other?

“I know.”

He answered and looked at you for the first time. There was a sort of a melancholy feeling in his eyes.

“You know it all, man. I’ll just-“

“Leave.”

Jungkook finished his sentence for him.

“Yeah, leave. I’ll leave. Nice seeing you again, y/n. We have to meet up sometime.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

You answered quickly, not taking your eyes off Jungkook.

“I won’t take no for an answer, baby.”

Taehyung said and stepped closer to you again.

“Yes you will, now leave.”

Jungkook said strictly.

“Okaaay, I’ll leave. Whatever.”

He said and walked away. You followed Taehyung with your eyes, watching as he disappeared into one of the rooms down the hall. When you looked back at Jungkook, you discovered he had been staring at you the entire time. You felt anger building up inside you.

“Don’t tell me this is what I think it is.”

You said, you almost sounded hurt.

“It’s not like that.”

He answered. You rolled your eyes at him. He didn’t exactly sound convincing. You had no intention of apologising to him anymore.

“Let me guess, you didn’t hire Mr. Kim to ruin my case so I could run back right into your arms? It was just a convenience that you were waiting for me when I came home, right?”

You asked in a sarcastic tone. He went quiet. You scoffed and turned to walk away. He grabbed your arm harshly so you couldn’t leave.

“I didn’t, I promise. Let me explain, please.

You sighed.

“Let me go.”

He shook his head.

“Y/n, just come-“

“Let me go.”

You interrupted him. After a few seconds he listened to you, and let go of your arm. You stood still, contemplating if you should leave for good this time. Instead, you slipped passed him into his room. His suite was huge, it was more like an apartment really. Modern with expensive furniture and paintings scattered around the room. He had a lot of money, you knew that, but you didn’t know it was to this extent.

“You better explain-“

You were suddenly caught off guard by his strong arms turning you around and embracing you in a tight hug.

“You came back to me! I knew you would! Oh, I’m so happy to see you again, baby!”

He said in a boyish tone. It was a sharp contrast to his interaction with Taehyung. You weren’t able to immediately react, getting lost in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you once again.

“Stop it, Jungkook. I’m still angry with you.”

You said and wiggled out of his hug. He looked at you with hurt in his eyes as he saw you brushing off imaginary dust from your skirt.

“I understand. Sit, I’ll get you something to drink.”

He said and walked out of the room. You did as you were told, sitting down on his white cashmere sofa. He came back with two cups of tea, placing them carefully on the glass table before sitting down beside you. You didn’t say anything, you waited for him to say the first word.

“Just uh- please just listen to me ok?”

He asked and looked at you. You nodded.

“I didn’t exactly plan this. Taehyung was stupid enough to get caught and ended up in prison. I told my lawyer to get you on his case. I knew a case like that would be amazing for your career.”

You shook your head disappointedly.

“I’ve told you I don’t want your help. Why-“

“Listen, y/n. Please just let me explain.”

You sighed and crossed your arms, but you stayed silent.

“Anyways, after a while he confessed to me that he was in love with you.”

You watched his entire body go stiff at his statement. He clenched his fists in jealousy.

“You know I’m willing to go lengths for you to succeed, baby. But- I had to stop him. I refuse to let him have you like that. Especially when we weren’t even talking to each other. So that night I sent you all those messages.”

He unclenched his hands and put his hand carefully on your knee.

“I knew he would do whatever I told him to, so I said if he got you out of the case I’d get him out of prison.”

“So you asked him to jerk off in front of me?”

Jungkooks face changed drastically. He did not seem pleased about the new piece of information you just gave him.

“He did that?”

He asked, his tone had changed from apologetic to dangerous. You nodded. His grip around your knee tightened. You put your hand over his, to show him that he was hurting you.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.”

He said looking you straight in the eye. Another set of chills ran down your back. You knew he meant it. It was not a loose threat.

“This isn’t about him, Jungkook. You pushed him do it. And then you broke into my house, expecting to be treated like some kind of hero.”

You pushed his hand off your knee. He started staring into the air. A million thoughts running through his head.

“I don’t understand how you can’t see that your behaviour is insane?”

You stated. He was still being quiet.

“You need to stop.”

You said a little calmer, trying to comfort him.

“I did.”

He said and looked at you.

“I did stop, because that’s what I thought you wanted. But now you were the one that came to me.”

He caught you off guard. It was your turn to be quiet this time.

“I’ll always do what’s best for you, because I love you, y/n. I don’t care how insane I sound or look to you. But why are you here if you think that of me?”

You looked away from him, knowing you had no rebuttal.

“You called me an awful person, you told me you hated me. And I can take it. But I can’t take another rejection from you! I just can’t!”

He raised his voice now. He was getting emotional.

“I’m sorry.”

You said so lightly it was almost a whisper. He stopped ranting and the room got quiet.

“That’s why I came here. To tell you that I’m sorry.”

You looked back to him again. His eyes were big and filled with so much love. You had never seen him like that before.

“I’m sorry I said I hated you, and that you’re crazy and an awful person. None of it true.”

He nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact with you. You became quiet again.

“Is that it?”

He asked carefully. You nodded, shifting awkwardly in the sofa.

“Yeah, I should probably leave.”

You said, taking his hint. Preparing to walk out and never seeing him again.

“No.”

He said, and shifted towards the end of the seat.

“No, not like that.”

He said in a hurry, and took ahold of you hands. You looked confused at him.

“I didn’t mean for you to leave. Don’t leave.”

He sounded almost desperate, clinging onto your hands. You nodded and gave him a short smile.

“What I meant to say is, is that the only reason you came here?”

You thought for a second. Was saying sorry the only reason you came? That’s at least what you told yourself. But at the same time you felt like you owed him more. You didn’t know what you felt. You had been an emotional wreck for months now.

“Yes.”

You answered. Trying to keep cool and not overthink the entire situation. You didn’t want to see him, you had to. Because you’re a good person. That’s all. That’s it. But it didn’t feel like it. It definitely didn’t feel like it. It felt like you longed to see him.

“You’re lying.”

You were ripped out of your thoughts by his statement. You shook your head defensively.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

You opened your mouth to argue back, but he spoke first.

“If it was a clear ‘yes’ you wouldn’t have to think about it. I know you better than you think, y/n.”

He repositioned himself so he could look right at you.

“Come on, ask me anything about yourself and I’ll tell you.”

You looked briefly at your wristwatch.

“I don’t know, maybe I should leave.”

“Just give me a chance, y/n.”

He said.

“If I don’t get it right I’ll let you leave.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, but still turning more towards him, accepting his offer.

“What’s my mothers name?”

You asked. He gave you a knowing look.

“Come on, that’s easy. Give me something that isn’t on Google.”

You let out a small laugh.

“You didn’t say her name though.”

“Christina, now give me something good. Something deep.”

You smiled, but had to think for a second.

“When did I loose my virginity?”

His smile turned to a smirk.

“You were 16 at Mae’s birthday party. You were drinking, and her boyfriend August hit on you. He took you to her bed and fucked you right there. No wonder Mae isn’t your friend anymore. You’re a bitch.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. Deep down it was scary that he knew something so intimate in great detail, but for some reason you were having fun with his little game.

“Ok ok. But now it’s your turn, when did you loose your virginity?”

He let out a nervous laugh at your question.

“This quiz isn’t about me.”

He stated and pulled his hand through his hair. You tilted your head slightly downwards and looked at him through your lashes and with a pout.

“I think it’s only fair that I know your story, since you know mine so well.”

He smiled at you, but looked away for a few seconds. Contemplating if he should tell you or not. When you saw him shy away, you suddenly felt as if you were digging into something he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You said, and placed your hand on top of his. Your fun voice was toned down to your regular speech again.

“No, I’ll share it. No worries.”

He said and looked back to you. You nodded and turned completely towards him. Crossing your legs and resting your arm on the backrest of the sofa, ready to hear his story.

“My first time was around one and a half year ago, in your office, with the girl of my dreams.”

He said dead serious. You snickered at him, thinking he was joking. But he didn’t laugh.

“You can’t be serious.”

You stated, he nodded proudly.

“Why wouldn’t I be, like I said you’re my dream girl. Why would I waste my time on others when the only one I want is you?”

He asked rhetorically. You crossed your eyebrows in confusion.

“You’ve never had sex? Ever?”

You asked in shock. His image did not fit the virgin title whatsoever.

“Once. With you.”

You smiled, but shook your head in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious. You probably have girls throw themselves at you.”

His hand found your knee again. This time it was placed a little further up.

“The only one I want is you. I waited for you because I knew you would be worth it. Because I love you.”

He said in a low tone, slightly stroking the inside of your thigh. The two of you were close, so close that you were aware of the proximity. The tension in the air got thicker and thicker from the power of his last words. His face started moving slowly towards you, and you gave in. Meeting his lips. The kiss started slow, but he was quick to rush it. Grabbing your neck to deepen the kiss. You were suddenly overwhelmed by the reality of what you were doing, and pulled away.

“We can’t do this.”

You simply said. Focusing on your hands on your lap. His hand went to push a strand of your hair out of your face.

“Why?”

He didn’t sound angry or impatient. He sounded like he cared. It was so much different from the first time the two of you shared a moment like that. He had really changed, and that was the problem.

“I’m not your patient anymore, y/n. I don’t want anything from you.”

You looked up at him again, and he caressed your face in a loving matter.

“Except for you of course.”

His face got closer again, but this time you didn’t kiss him. You abruptly got up from the sofa, and opted for looking down at him instead. You took a deep breath.

“You’re not doing anything wrong by having sex with me. Again, I’m not your patient.”

He said a little bit louder, trying to calm you down.

“I can’t have sex with you because I’ll fall in love with you.”

You couldn’t believe those words came out of your mouth. You had been in denial this entire time, but you knew yourself. This would not end well. You couldn’t bare to fall in love with someone that would ruin your image and reputation. You just couldn’t. He looked at you like you were some kind of god. Like all his wishes were finally answered.

“Why is that a bad thing?”

He asked, you shook your head.

“I can’t let that happen, Jungkook. It’s going to ruin my career.”

You sat back down, leaning your elbows on your thighs and your head in your hands.

“I have done nothing but help your career. Why can’t you just trust me?”

He put his hand on your back, stroking you lightly. You looked at him again.

“Please, trust me y/n.”

Fuck it, you thought, before you caught him off guard with your forceful kiss. He was quick to get the memo, kissing you back with the same hastiness and lust. You found your way onto his lap without breaking the kiss. Once you were straddling him, you felt his already hard cock grinding against you. He was desperate for you. A muffled groan escaped his lips when your hand went down to remove his belt.

“Wait.”

He said as he pulled away from you. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were wet and plump.

“Let me taste you.”

It sounded more like a question than a statement. His whole aura was so different from the needy rough man you remembered from the last time.

“Please.”

You got off his lap, taking your top off slowly. Watching him as his face turned in awe of the sight of your tits. His eyes were only on you as you shimmied out of your skirt, letting it pool on the floor. You laid down on the sofa, spreading your legs for him. He quickly removed his shirt, before getting on his stomach. His hand ran slowly down your abdomen, before he reached your slit. He split your lips with the same hand, before he dove right into you. You could tell he was inexperienced, but the rapid use of tongue on your clit sent waves of pleasure throughout your body. You let out extra pound moans whenever he would hit a good spot, and luckily he was a quick learner.

Once he had the hang of it, his hand moved down to your vagina, pushing two fingers in. Your back arched at the speed of the overstimulation. Feeling your orgasm approach quicker than usual. You grabbed his hair, pushing him deeper into you, preparing for your release.

“Don’t stop, Jungkook! I’m close.”

He moaned by your words, the vibrations making you tip over the edge. Your legs closed in on him, locking him in place. As you rode out your high. Once you had calmed down, you let go of his hair. And his face popped up from between your legs. He climbed on top of you, kissing you passionately. You tasted yourself on his lips.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.”

He said in between kisses and moans.

“I almost came just from eating you out.”

He started fiddling with his belt, but you stopped him. Placing a hand on his chest carefully.

“Let me.”

You simply said, before he moved off you. He sat down again, and you crawled onto the floor. Seating yourself between his legs. You looked up at him as your hands slowly traveled up his thighs. He was even more flushed now, his hair sticking to his forehead. You could tell he was impatient. Flicking his eyes between your hands and your eyes.

“Please, y/n.”

He uttered with a heavy breath. You smirked up at him, finally reaching his belt. You took your time with it as well. Once it was open, he was quick to pull down his pants and underwear. Letting his cock spring free. You got on top of him again, slowly lowering yourself onto his cock. He jerked up the second he felt your pussy on him. His thick cock stretched your walls out, and a moan escaped both your lips.

“Just relax, I’ll take care of you this time.”

You said in a low voice, placing your hands on his shoulders. His hands went straight to your ass, giving your cheeks a tight squeeze. You kissed him gently before you started riding him. His head fell back in pleasure once you started your movements. Bouncing up and down his cock. His hands dug deeper into your skin. He filled you to the brim, and every bounce felt amazing.

“Fuck! I’m not- gonna last long.”

He moaned and looked back at you. You then leaned your hands backwards onto his thighs. Your head fell slightly back as you moaned at the new angle.

“Y/n, slow down!”

He moaned as his hands moved to your thighs. Trying halfheartedly to stop you. But you didn’t stop. And suddenly you felt him coming inside you. His hips lifted you up, as he released himself. And when you felt like he was finished you stopped. You rapped your hands around his shoulders as you fell onto his chest. The room got quiet, the only sound being your heavy breathing.

You weren’t able to think about the consequences of your actions at that point. You only felt satisfaction and lust. And maybe even love…

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

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celeryb1tch · 1 month

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how you and spencer meet!

receptionist!reader starts a new job at the BAU, and a very handsome coworker shows her around!

content: meet cute, fem!reader, pov you’re an idiot who’s sensitive to blood, fainting for the plot and not in the way it works in real life lol, confident-ish but pretty canon compliant mid-seasons spencer!

—

the FBI certainly isn’t the place for squeamish little pansies…

at least, that’s what you were told in your interview. and you had nodded diligently, ignoring the lump in your throat as you thought about how you almost fainted the last time you had bloodwork done. but as a secretary, how bad could it get, right? you tried to assure yourself of this when you got the job offer.

on a brisk friday morning, you were wandering through the FBI Academy campus in an attempt to find your office. everyone around you seemed to be in a hurry, and no one had given you the time of day when you attempted to ask for directions. so fifteen minutes before your first day started, opposed to the promised half hour, you entered the NSAVC building with your tail between your legs.

the bullpen was empty. you had expected to be met by a trainer, or perhaps the person whose job you would be taking over, but you instead faced a grouping of empty desks. as you peered around the open area, your eyes landed on a conference room with large windows, allowing you to see a group of agents. with a sigh of relief, you headed up the stairs and knocked on the door lightly before letting yourself in.

before you was a circular table seating five people, all with their eyes trained directly on you. “hi!” you chirped. “i was looking for-“

“i think you’re lost, miss. students shouldn’t be allowed access into this department,” demanded a man in a full suit, who seemed to be in charge.

your smile faded as you saw the various displeased faces looking back at you. “oh no, i’m not…” in an attempt to avoid eye contact, you raised your sight to the opposite wall, projector casting images of open wounds and a dismembered corpse. and in only a second, your vision was going black.

—

the white of fluorescent bulbs seared even through to the inside of your eyelids, but despite this you still blinked a few times to shake the disorientation and open your eyes.

your legs were eased up in the air with a chair, brand new pencil skirt hiked slightly up your thighs. you felt the texture of carpet against your back through your blouse and the cool of ice on your forehead. your first instinct was to sit up and reorient yourself, which you tried to no avail.

“hey, hey, easy,” an unidentifiable voice said soothingly. you scanned your surroundings, finding a man with chin length chestnut hair in your periphery who couldn’t be much older than you. he was crouched beside you, apple juice box in hand and concern in his eyes. god, his eyes were pretty, you thought. like pools of dappled sunlight.

it took you a few seconds to recognize him as one of the displeased members of the conference room, and the previous events rushed back to you, bringing a flush to your cheeks. “i am so sorry, sir. um, agent. detective? there was a misunderstanding, and that was so unprofessional of me.”

he had a small smile playing on his lips as he scanned your face. he seemed to be entertained by the fact that you were so flustered, letting you finish rambling before he replied. “doctor spencer reid, and no worries at all. a freeze response to gore is a fairly common reaction. while you were unconscious we were able to identify you as the new front desk secretary, we thought you were starting next week so we weren’t expecting anyone.”

you visibly relaxed at his explanation. it seemed possible that you wouldn’t be fired on the spot for this. you took the hand he outstretched to you, helping you up from the ground slowly. he offered you the juice box, to which you shook your head. “i’m okay, but thank you.”

“i would recommend it. after fainting it’s likely that your blood sugar is low, and fruit juice is packed with natural sugars that will allow you to feel better almost immediately.”

“doctor’s orders, huh?” you joked, to which he cracked a smile again.

“i’m not exactly that kind of doctor. but yes, i do strongly advise it.”

so you took the juice box, and spencer walked you down the few steps from the office you’d been laying in toward the bullpen. suddenly you were filled with anxiety once again as the faces you had seen minutes ago holding inconvenienced stares now looked on with concern.

the man from before who was so clearly the leader of this operation approached, offering a hand to shake. “supervisory special agent aaron hotchner, i apologize for the misunderstanding.”

you winced away from him slightly, worried that any further mistake would result in you losing the position you had yet to start. “thank you, sir. i am so sorry for interrupting a meeting like that, and fainting. that wasn’t exactly the first impression i wanted.”

he had an easy smile, that of a reassuring father. “i can assure you that no punitive action will be taken, if that’s what you’re concerned about. if we knew you were coming today we would not have left graphic case evidence up on the screen.”

oh, thank god. you exhaled deeply, feeling the tightness in your chest subside. you stepped back toward spencer, whose gaze had never left you. “what should i be doing now? i was never informed of what my training would be, not to mention where my desk is.”

“linda’s out sick today, which is why we thought you weren’t coming until monday,” said the woman sat in the desk rightmost of you. her hair was pure black, with straight, blunt bangs that suited her well.

“we don’t exactly have training for you today without your predecessor here, so i thought you could shadow my agents to familiarize yourself with the office. and i’m happy to show you to your desk, but since you’ll mostly be seeing our faces daily, we should get introductions out of the way first,” agent hotchner said.

you glanced at spencer beside you almost unconsciously, in search of reassurance. despite knowing him for about three minutes, he was the closest thing you had to a friend or ally so far. and seeming to sense this, he shot you a smile that crinkled the edges of his eyes. you felt your anxiety melt a little, and you realized that everything was going to be okay.

—

by lunchtime, you had your things at your desk and nothing to do without a computer login or training. you remembered that hotchner had suggested shadowing someone, but the idea of asking one of the agents made your stomach churn. they sat only a dozen feet away from you, laughing and bantering as if they’d known each other all their lives. who were you to butt into their dynamic? so you sat twiddling your thumbs for the rest of the lunch hour, peeking at the group occasionally to confirm that you hadn’t spontaneously gained the confidence to approach.

spencer specifically appeared to be deep in thought once he got back to work. you thought that it would be best to shadow him if possible, given you were most familiar with the tall brunette, but you really had no business to interrupt his work. still, you worked up the courage to advance to his desk.

“would you like some more coffee, dr. reid? i could go get some for you, you seem pretty busy,” you offered in an attempt at nonchalance. but uncertainty and regret crept up quickly when you received no reply.

emily prentiss, the previously unnamed woman with dark hair, noticed the interaction. with a slight grin on her lips, she interjected. “don’t take it personally. he gets so into his case readings, it’s hard for him to pick up on anything else.”

“hey, pretty boy,” cooed derek morgan from another desk. “someone’s trying to talk to you.”

spencer lifted his head reluctantly, eyes following a moment later. he looked dazed, not quite focused on anything in particular. “sorry, what?”

“i noticed your coffee was almost empty, would you like some more?” you asked meakly. it took everything in you not to run and hide of embarrassment.

he finally registered the question, shaking his head fervently. “no, i couldn’t ask you to do that. i’m perfectly capable of refilling my own coffee, but while i do i could show you the kitchenette? it’s crucial to the operation of the office.”

and with a nod, the two of you headed to the tiny kitchen adjacent to the bullpen. you stood slightly out of the way as spencer placed his mug on the counter, refilling the drip coffee maker for a fresh batch. you watched him card his fingers through his hair, looking around casually.

“so, the kitchen is important why?” you inquired, head tilting slightly to emphasize your interest.

spencer finally met your eyes again, letting out a little breezy laugh. “oh, it’s not. i noticed that you were having trouble potentially asking one of us to show you around, so i thought this was an opportune moment.”

you flushed slightly at the confession, apparently caught red-handed in your effort. “wow, you’re pretty good at reading people. or was i just that transparent?”

“is that a joke?” his eyebrows knotted as he looked at you, no air of humour on his face.

you stared back, equally confused. “am i supposed to know that? do you have a particularly well known judgement of character?”

“well yes, you’re in the behavioural analysis unit.”

and with that, you were sure that you had damaged your ego and reputation in this job position irrevocably.

—

after a brief explanation of the lack of background information provided when accepting the job, spencer assured you that he wouldn’t tell the others. he expressed his surprise that the FBI hadn’t been as diligent as they usually are, and you had to agree.

“i mean, i told them that this was my first job after graduation. i was doing my field placement two months ago, and that was in a law firm!” you stifled a giggle, feeling at ease leaning against the kitchen counter with spencer taking occasional sips of his coffee.

“that’s astounding. they hired me young, but i’d argue that i was overqualified for the position,” he admitted. “you, however…”

you gasped in feigned offence, rolling your eyes. “hey, i learned a lot in that law office! i can photocopy anything you need me to, and schedule dry cleaning for same-day pickup.”

it had been well over a half hour at this point, with you and spencer getting gradually closer until your clothed elbow rubbed against his. no one else had come in, until mid-reply spencer was greeted by agent aaron hotchner himself, who happened to also need a fresh cup of coffee.

“reid, i see that you’ve taken it upon yourself to let our new team member shadow you. but maybe you should show her some places other than the coffee counter?” he suggested with a raised eyebrow.

spencer looked caught, eyes flitting from you to his boss. your boss too, you supposed. “of course. sorry hotch, we got a little caught up.”

“i can see that. as long as you get your files finished by end-of-day, it’s really none of my business.”

“yes, sir,” spencer yelped. he gestured rapidly for you to follow him, exiting the kitchen to return to his desk.

you watched him put his mug down and shuffle some papers around before his eyes lit up in recognition. “i actually do need you to photocopy this for me,” he admitted shyly.

“of course!” you replied, just before your smile dropped. “you actually never showed me where the copier is.”

spencer chuckled with you, getting up from his chair once again. “no problem, i’ll show you.”

and as the two of you began walking down the hallway together, the others laughed upon hearing, “by the way, would you like to go for dinner with me once we clock out? i have a lot more to tell you.”

derek grinned. “i didn’t know that kid had the balls.”

—

(hi guys!! thank you for all of the love on my first spencer post!! i’m having so much fun writing these! psa tho: as i said before, i’m a lesbian i just have a weird thing for this one particular fictional man- so if u follow me, pls expect woman-centred content mostly!!)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #molly’s!

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notbecauseofvictories · 1 year

Text

My best friend and I had a call recently---she’s back with her family for a bit helping out with some hometown stuff. As part of the stuff, she’s been going through a (deceased) relative’s scrapbook, compiled in the American Midwest circa 1870-1900 and featuring mostly cut-out figures from the ads of the day.

She talked about how painstaking this relative’s work was. (Apparently the relative was careful to cut out every finger, every cowlick; this was by no means carelessly or hastily assembled.) But she also she talked about how---the baby on the baking soda ad is ugly, it is so ugly, why anyone would clip this heinously ugly illustrated baby and paste it into a scrapbook? Why would you save the (terribly told, boring) ghost story that came with your box of soap?

(Why include these things in the first place? we asked each other. ”There’s a kind of anti-capitalism to it,” she mused.)

And we discussed that for a bit---how most of the images, stories, artists, and ads were local, not national; they’re pulled from [Midwestern state] companies’ advertisements in [Midwestern state] papers, magazines, and products. As a consequence, you’re not looking at Leyendecker or Norman Rockwell illustrations, but Johann Spatz-Smith from down the road, who took a drawing class at college.

(College is the state college, and he came home on weekends and in the summer to help with the farm or earn some money at the plant.)

But it also inspired a really interesting conversation about how---we have access to so much more art, better and more professional art, than any time in history. As my bff said, all you have to do to find a great, technically proficient and lovely representational image of a baby, is to google the right keywords. But for a girl living in rural [Midwestern state] of the late 1800s, it was the baking soda ad, or literal actual babies. There was no in-between, no heading out to the nearby art museum to study oil paintings of mother and child, no studying photographs and film---such new technologies hadn’t diffused to local newspapers and circulars yet, and were far beyond the average person’s means. But cheap, semi-amateur artists? Those were definitely around, scattered between towns and nearby smallish cities.

It was a good conversation, and made me think about a couple things---the weird entitlement that “professional” and expensive art instills in viewers, how it artificially depresses the appetite for messy unprofessional art, including your own; the way that this makes your tastes narrower, less interesting, less open.

By that I mean---maybe the baby isn’t ugly! Maybe you’ve just seen too many photorealistic babies. Maybe you haven’t really stopped to contemplate that your drawing of a baby (however crude, ugly, or limited) is the best drawing of a baby you can make, and the act of drawing that lumpen, ugly baby is more sacred and profoundly human than even looking at a Mary Cassatt painting.

And even if that isn’t the case....there was this girl in [American Midwestern state] for whom it was very, very important that she capture every finger, curl, and bit of shading for that ugly soap ad baby. And some one hundred years later, her great-something-or-other took pains to preserve her work---because how terribly human it is, to seek out all the art we can find that resonates with us, preserve it, adore it.

It might be the most human impulse we have.

#I of course went on a tangent about henry darger because I love darger and he was also pulling/tracing/finding inspiration in local ads #I was also thinking of the scenes in banshees of inisherin where gleeson plays the fiddle in the bar and the woman sings #clearly not professional! nowhere near mozart.#but you know what? those people are making art. they are engaged in the most human thing you can possibly do #my mother once talked about how when she was growing up in the chicago area the irish immigrants would sing and play at parties #and her mother (one generation removed from immigration) would scoff #because who did they think they were! they weren't professionals. they were making a spectacle of themselves.#''and then it died out. no one sings and plays at parties anymore'' she said quietly #celestial emporium of benevolent knowledge

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marleyybluu · 1 year

Text

Truth or Drink

Pedro Pascal x fem!reader

WC: 1k

A lil quick one

Warnings: alcohol (drink responsibly), age gap (reader is like 30 we’ll say), fluff and flirting.

Look at this cutie

You sat across from him, nothing but smiles on both faces as you stared into each other's souls intensely. His sweet brown eyes wandered your face, fresh out of the makeup chair and looking stunning as always. You let out a small giggle, you looked down to shuffle your cards of questions. Today was going to be interesting.

The two of you had starred in a romantic comedy that had come out last week and the reviews it was getting had been great so far. The real buzz was the chemistry you two had, tabloids often twisting your innocent hangouts as something more. Pedro wasn't a difficult person to get along with, the vibes had been there since day one. You two clicked almost instantly, it was almost impossible to shoot one scene without one of you breaking character.

You had to admit though, the feelings you had were no longer just platonic. The movie felt all too real and whenever the director yelled cut you were sucked back into reality. Oh, that man could kiss. Lips soft and sweet, gentle and careful with yours as if he was scared to hurt you. There'd been a few times it felt a bit too real, but you didn't mind.

He made your heart race, even now, as he watched you across the table.

Today was another promo video for your movie. You two were doing Truth or Drink for Cut's YouTube channel. They wouldn't normally have well-known actors on their channel but they loved how you two interacted and insisted on a piece of the action. You had seen many of these videos and a lot of them were enjoyable so you were excited to do this, and also happy to get a few shots in. Though you two had some shots the night before.

"Alright, you guys ready?"

The both of you nodded and looked back at each other. The cameraman gave you two the thumbs up, and it didn't take long for you to let out a nervous giggle and quickly apologize for it. Pedro shook his head. "Hi, I'm Pedro Pascal, and this is my unprofessional co-star YN YLN." You sucked your teeth reaching over the small table to hit him in the arm with your cards.

"You can actually start with a shot if you guys would like." One of the producers informed. "Oh really?" Pedro asked, he looked back at you to see that you had already popped the top off of the bottle with tequila and poured it into his shot glass before pouring it into your own. There was juice in a slightly bigger glass as a chaser but you often didn't need it. "Salud." He winked. "Salud." You smiled before clinking and drinking. You sucked in your cheeks and squeezed your eyes as the drink burned your esophagus.

Pedro tapped his cards against the table catching your attention. "You want to go first?"

"Nah, you go." You leaned back in your chair interested to hear what he had written down. He looked down at his cards, a bit nervous about how this was going to go, he would try not to take too many shots for fear he might confess his true feelings on camera. "When they told you would be working with me, were you excited?"

You playfully rolled your eyes, a simple question but that shit-eating grin he had on his face meant it was a cocky question. "I already told you how I felt."

"Yeah but now you have to tell them."

"Yes, Pedro I was excited when they told me that I'd be working with you." You admitted on camera begrudgingly. Pedro's eyes disappeared as he smiled at the camera, your heart fluttered as his contagious emotion spread over to you. You quickly looked down at your cards. "Hm, who's a better acting partner? Me or Oscar Isaac?"

He shook his head repeating the word 'nope.' He was not about to get in trouble with his two friends, he reached over for the bottle and took a shot while you sat there dumbfounded with your mouth agape in amusement and utter shock. "You know what," You looked into the lens. "He only took that shot because he didn't want to hurt your feelings, Oscar."

Pedro snorted before throwing his head back, he quietly hissed as the alcohol burned his throat. You bounced your leg up and down as your eyes focused on the slender of his neck, the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. You groaned internally. "Alright," He started. "Do we have to do boring questions?"

"You can ask anything you want." They reassured. He slowly nodded.

The back and forth continued, and a few more rounds of liquor entered both your systems— the both of you giggly and probably annoying the rest of the crew but you no longer cared. "Do you watch the TikTok edits that people make about you? And does it boost your ego?"

He closed his eyes in defeat. "Yes, I do watch them." He cringed. "Some of them are a little... you know..." Pedro wiggled his brows alluding to the fact that some videos were a little too thirsty. "But I love them all anyway. So thanks, guys."

It was his turn to ask, he cleared his throat and shuffled in his seat. You knew him like the back of your hand, he was nervous but what could he be nervous about? You were just asking each other goofy questions, nothing too weird. Right?

"Okay, am I the best kisser out of all your co-stars?" He asked. You tilted your head, eyes passing between him and the shot glass, wondering if you should say the truth or leave it to the imagination. You nodded your head keeping your lips sealed. "Am I really?"

He sounded almost shocked.

"Yeah, you are."

"No bullshit?"

"No bullshit Pascal."

He made a proud face. "How about out of all your little boyfriends?" Your eyes popped out of your head, he was getting a little too hasty. He watched as you slowly reached over to the bottles, it was quiet as you poured your drink of choice. You looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "Yes." You still took your shot pursing your lips and shaking your head as it went down.

He was taken aback, sure he asked the question but he expected you to take a shot instead of actually answering it. You shrugged putting your cards flat on the table. "Same question for you."

At this point the crew let them do what they want, the more natural it looked the better. Pedro shrugged. "Yeah, I'd say you're at the top of the list."

"Oooh, there's a list."

"Of course." He smugged. He tugged on his bottom lip, eyes scanning the entirety of your face. "Have you ever had a crush on a co-star?"

You covered your face, you were really laying everything on the table, in front of these strangers and soon for hundreds of thousands of people to see. "What are you getting at Pascal?"

"I'm just playing the game." He said with that not-so-innocent face. "Yes, I have a crush on a co-star?"

"I said had."

You smirked. "I know."

Now it was his turn to blush, he giggled nervously. "I have a crush on one of my co-stars too."

You turned your head away, you were nothing but a bundle of nerves. Pedro gently kicked you under the table and you returned the favour. Neither of you had any more questions... that could be asked on camera at least. "Well if you'll excuse us..." Pedro proceeded to stand up, he hooked his arm inviting you to wrap yours around it and you did not hesitate.

"We have some things to discuss. Make sure you guys check out our new movie. Byeeeee."

The producers stood there stunned at what just happened while you two skipped off. You could only imagine the response and chaos that this would cause.

I have to get these Pedro fics out of my system yall. I'm off tomorrow so hopefully ill post another one and then after that I'll update based on the poll (go vote if you'd like) if you liked this fic, feel free to like this fic. Comments and reblogs are appreciated. Peace and love

#pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal #co-stars to lovers #fem!reader #Pedro x fem!reader #marleywrites #marleysfanfictions #Pedro pascal x reader #flirty

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aether-bun · 3 months

Note

Dating headcanons for dead plate Vince and rody??? (Seperate)

DEAD PLATE BOYFRIENDS!!

Ok. Ok. The chokehold these two have me in is something that needs to be studied actually. Utterly thrilled that I get to write for them. Thank you so much Anon.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Talks of aggression, NSFW if you squint

Reader is gender neutral ♡

VINCENT is subtly affectionate being your boyfriend.

I think it's obvious that Vincent is very cold, inside and out, even if it isn't intentional

Little does the outside world know, however, he's very affectionate with you!

Behind closed doors, he finds small ways to be in contact with you

Knees touching, pinkies grazing, shoulders bumping, the works

It's not that he's afraid or repulsed by full on affection, it's just more comfortable for him to act the way he does. It means he can recharge without being away from you, but without overwhelming himself

I think he's a very big fan of chaste kisses, or at least giving them. Whenever he receives such rushed notes of affection, he refuses to admit it, but it leaves him with a sense of yearning :(

Adores hand kisses holy shit

I like to hc that he has a little lemon tree somewhere that he takes care of with such enthusiasm it's wild

The one thing you can't touch in his apartment is that tree. Hard boundary.

When he comes upstairs after work, he's usually very tired

This means that you both tend to just quietly enjoy each other's presence until he falls asleep in bed

Some days he's REALLY tired.

One of the chefs fucked up a batch so badly that it pushed service back by an additional 40 minutes while he had someone run supplies

It cost him a lot. That chef was brutally torn into and promptly told to never come back. Very unprofessional, but no one would say much about it.

Very exhausting lesson in hiring better employees in Vince's eyes.

That night he just laid down on your thighs and ranted. He doesn't tend to talk much for too long out of personal preference but that night he couldn't shut himself up.

You just gently combed through his hair and listened

The sensations soothed him and he got over the anger fairly well

(now he lays on your thighs some nights just to score some extra nice attention)

Dates are always very lavish, it's his personal favourite thing to spoil you. He always has a hand on you during outings of any kind.

Will pull you closer if anyone stares at you.

Gentle with you, in every possible situation, but firm

He really just doesn't want anyone to hurt you, but on top of that, he couldn't bear the ache he'd feel to see you look at someone else the way you look at him

Slut for calling you "Mine". End of discussion.

RODY is hellbent on giving you the whole world.

Loves loves LOVES cuddles

You cannot get this man off of you he is so clingy

He wants what's best for you and more this man will break limbs for you

I will say you were probably originally going to be a rebound relationship

After Manon, he found you, but it had barely been a month and he was clearly desperate for love

He was honest about Manon and the recent breakup, and in turn, you were honest about your returned feelings for him, but you very firmly said he'd have to move on first

It took a long time. You waited.

When he did get better, you two hit it off! He cared for you and you looked out for him

Your dates are walks through the park, café breakfasts and movie nights

Rody is a big fan of kisses

He kisses you and you can feel his love pouring through them, he deepens the kisses like he's starved, even though you're more than affectionate with each other all the time

Service top or complete bottom. Not because he's dainty bc he definitely isn't. He just loves you so much he wants you to have everything. He lives to serve you at this point let's be so real

Learned how to budget for you!!!! Whoa!!!!!!!!

I think Rody dances with you all the time

Rain or shine, dawn or dusk, happy or sad, he finds it nice to dance with you

It calms him

He gives the BEST MASSAGES IDC

Butterfly kisses and nose kisses are this man's kryptonite. He will cry. He has before.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey!!!! Sorry for the random hiatus, life killed me a little, but I'm back and raring to go! Dragon Anon, if you're reading this, I am working on your req but I'm making sure I actually know the DLC this time so it's taking a while to get through the content. Bear with me!!!

Sorry if these were a little sloppy, getting back into writing is a lil difficult but I'm working as best I can. I hope you enjoyed, and remember to leave your requests in my inbox!

Ciao for now~

#x reader #dead plate rody #dead plate #vincent dead plate #rody x reader #vincent x reader #aether.writes #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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scaredpigeons · 3 months

Text

Aqua Regia I: cutting through the darkness, bouncing off the walls.

Next chapter

Neuvillette x fem!reader

Word count: 2.2k

You become the assistant to the new ruler of Fontaine. (Set after the Fontaine archon quests, so spoilers if you haven’t already done it.)

Authors note: its finally here! I’ve separated it into chapters out for ease of reading. It should all be up within the next week or so. This is mostly sfw, a little suggestive at times, but the final chapter will contain nsfw content. Series name and chapter titles are from my literal favourite song ever, aqua regia by sleep token. It’s a very fitting song for this story. Enjoy!

———————————

The sun had not even reached its peak in the sky, dew still glistening on the cypress trees in the gardens outside, and already Neuvillette was pinching his brow, eyes feeling heavy as he slaved over the seemingly endless pile of paperwork that was stacked upon his desk.

Sedene entered his office without knocking, a common occurrence, and one that never bothered him before— only worrying him now because he didn’t want her to see the way his shoulders slumped slightly— an incredibly unprofessional posture.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, your 10 o’clock appointment has arrived.” She said, eyeing him from her spot in the doorway.

He nearly jumped, but kept his calm facade as he shuffled around the papers on his desk, looking for his schedule for the day, but it seemed it was lost to the void of unfinished work he was drowning in.

“My apologies, Sedene, I seem to have misplaced the itinerary I had written out for the day, would you remind me who it is I am meeting with?”

Sedene smiled, her eyes soft. “It’s Miss Charlotte, from The Steambird. You agreed to an interview with her last week, Your Honor.”

“Sedene, please,” Neuvillette sighed, though his tone remained light and pleasant. “The formal honorifics outside of the courtroom are far from necessary.”

“Alright, sir.” The melusine smiled. “Shall I send her in?”

Neuvillette tried to right himself, stacking his finished documents and unfinished work in separate piles to seem organized, though he would probably regret it later.

“Yes, please.” He said. “And if you have the time, perhaps some tea? I’m sure she’ll be here for a good while.”

Sedene nodded, turning to leave, before the Iudex called out to her again. “Sedene?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I believe…” he let the tension fall from his shoulders finally, giving up on trying to hide his weariness from her. “I believe I’m in need of some aid, if I am to continue this way.”

Sedene just hid a chuckle behind her soft hand. “Perhaps you should ask Miss Charlotte to put an ad in the newspaper?”

With his final acceptance of his situation, he nodded. “Perhaps.”

—————

“—And then I told him that there was no need, I had the perfect candidate in mind, and if he did not like you, then I would put the ad in the paper— although I told him there was absolutely no way he wouldn’t completely adore you altogether.”

You listened to your friend talk animatedly, finally hearing her take a breath without continuing her thought. You certainly loved Charlotte, but conversations about things like work and her other passions tended to be relatively one-sided.

“I’m sorry, just to reiterate, you personally recommended me to the chief justice for a position as his personal assistant?”

“Of course! You were a PA at the steambird for so long, and you did so well there, everyone loved you!” She grinned, taking another sip of her tea.

The café was rather packed today, and your macarons sat perfectly stacked in a cute pile on your plate. Your favourite desert by far, and café Lutece’s were second only to the treats made by Miss Navia herself.

“Yes, but that was the Steambird.” You said, tracing a finger over the delicate shell of the top macaron on the pile. “We’re talking about the chief justice here— the new ruler of Fontaine— how are we even supposed to address him now?”

You started to panic a little, not used to interacting with nobility, let alone the person of the highest social status in all of Fontaine— overlooking the love the citizens still held for lady Furina, of course.

“I’m not sure, but you’ll get to ask him tomorrow!” Charlotte exclaimed, making you gawk at her. “I knew you were free so I arranged a meeting for you tomorrow at noon! Isn’t it exciting?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach, then did a couple loops around there before it lurched into your throat.

“Charlotte! I really appreciate you doing this for me, but I am woefully underprepared for this? What am I supposed to do? What will I even wear? Do I need to bring a resume? List of references? What—“

“Woah, woah,” Charlotte reached across the table, running a soothing hand down your forearm. “It’s not that serious, he’d just like to meet you over some tea at the Palais. He’s not all that intimidating after you meet him, hun. I promise you I wouldn’t have put you up to this if I wasn’t one hundred percent confident in you.”

Your breathing settled a bit as she comforted you, though your mind was still racing.

“You’ve got this in the bag.” Charlotte smiled, and you hoped she was right.

——————

You smoothed your hands over your skirt nervously as you made your way to the steps outside the Palais Mermonia.

You wore the nicest outfit you owned that didn’t stray into formal wear territory, not that you had many dresses of that caliber.

A dress, cut just above the knee, a beautiful deep blue color. A matching ribbon tied around the collar of the white puff sleeved undershirt, and a navy waistcoat cinched tightly in the back with a bow. Paired with your nicest stockings and a lovely pair of boots that Miss Navia had gotten you last year for your birthday, you looked every bit the part of an upper class citizen of Fontaine.

Your insecurities ate at you, but you fixed a stray hair and smiled at the cute little dog dressed in a guard uniform that was trotting outside the lift. You were on high alert, but seeing everyone standing around, acting normally, enjoying the sunshine— well that made it seem a little better.

You greeted Liath as she skipped around the entrance, feeling even better as she smiled brightly at you. You made it a point to personally get to know all the melusine around the city, finding them to be extremely fascinating beings, and upon doing so, learning that they were among the sweetest, kindest people you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.

“I heard you’re going to be working here!” Liath said, throwing her arms out in excitement. “That will be so lovely! I will get to see you every day!”

You giggled a bit, not wanting to burst her bubble. “It’s just an interview, Liath. Nothing is set in stone just yet.”

“Well I just know you’re going to get the job, you’re so very lovely.”

You pressed a hand over your heart, feeling your face heat up.

“You always say the kindest things when we speak, I'm very flattered. I hope I get the job too.”

She wished you good luck and sent you off, and you entered the building with your heart once again in your throat.

You walked through towards the head office, nodding at the gestionnaire ladies who were working diligently at their tables before you heard your name ring out from the end of the hall.

Sedene scurried out from behind her station, coming to greet you.

“Sedene!” You exclaimed. “It’s been a while, you look so beautiful! are you doing something new with your hair?”

She smiled sheepishly, pawing at her hair under her hat. “Miss Seigewinne got me some new hair oils, imported from Liyue! They’re very lovely, and smell just heavenly!” She leaned towards you, tilting her head in offering. “Here, smell!”

You giggled again, a little taken aback, but leaned in to smell her anyway. True to her word, Sedenes hair smelled just lovely, sweet and floral, yet unlike anything you’d ever smelled here in Fontaine.

“Oh, wow, that's beautiful!” You said. “The next time I go to see the Duke, I’ll have to ask Seigewinne where exactly she got it from.”

Sedene agreed, and pointed towards the door to your right. “He should be ready for you, I brought the tea in just a moment ago.”

Dread tried to creep its way back into your throat, but Sedene reached up to take your hands into her soft paws.

“I wouldn’t worry if I were you,” Was all she said before she smiled and skipped back to her station.

You walked swiftly to the doors, and before you lost your nerve creaked them open and peaked inside.

The chief justice was at his desk, eyes flitting over a document held loosely in his hand. He looked so regal and intimidating, his clothes finely pressed and tailored to fit him exceptionally well. Upon your entry, his gaze snapped up, and you swore you could see the faintest hints of embarrassment cross his face.

Your name fluttered past his lips as he stood, and you shivered a bit at the way his voice uttered the word.

“My apologies, I did not hear you enter. My attention seems to be scattered as of late.”

“No, no, please.” You said, stepping further into the room as the door closed audibly behind you. “It’s my fault, I should have knocked first.”

“Your arrival was anticipated, and Sedene must have sent you through, therefore there was no need for you to knock, I assure you.”

Neuvillette walked closer to you, holding out his hand for you to shake. You took it, trying to remember everything you were ever taught about shaking someone’s hand during interviews, but taken aback at how large his hands seemed compared to yours.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Neuvillette said, his hand grasping yours just a beat longer than normal before he pulled away, gesturing to the chair he had set up in front of his desk. “I’ve heard so much about you, please, have a seat.”

He pulled the chair out, the perfect gentleman, pushing it back under you as you folded your hands under your skirt to tuck it under your bottom, sitting down.

He rounded the desk and said down, pouring you a cup of tea before sliding the tray of additives closer to you.

“All good things, I hope?” You said, adding your preferred mixture of extras to your tea.

“Pardon?” Neuvillette seemed a bit distracted, his eyes jumping back to you from where he seemed to be zoning out.

“You said that you’ve heard a lot about me,” you said, smiling over the rim of your teacup. Your confidence grew with each passing moment in his office, he just seemed so… normal. A bit scattered—as much as he seemed to try to hide it, which made your chest feel light and airy—but so normal. “I was just hoping they’re all good things.”

He blinked at you, gears finally clicking into place, before a bit of a sheepish look crept onto his face.

“Ah, well— yes.” He said, picking up his teaspoon and stirring his tea despite not putting anything in it. “You came highly recommended by Miss Charlotte, and upon hearing of this meeting, a multitude of melusines came to sing your praises, which shocked me a little, but I have heard them speak of you in passing, so I suppose my surprise was short lived.”

“They speak of me?” You asked, feeling a bit flustered.

“I’ve heard your name more than once.” He said, taking a sip of his tea. “The girls tend to talk about those who are kindest to them quite a lot, they are all rather fond of you.”

“Are you close to them?” You asked, already knowing half the answer. “They all speak quite fondly of you.”

He smiled a bit brighter. “I like to think I am. They are the pride of Fontaine, and therefore I take much pride in them as well.”

You found yourself staring at his smile.

You’d only ever seen Neuvillette in the occasional trial you attended. He was always stone faced, serious, and oh so untouchable. High, high up in his seat, looking down on all others. Seeing him here, you couldn’t help but think he looked so very human.

“To the matter at hand,” he said, clearing his throat and sitting up a bit straighter in his seat. “I will not lie to you, since Lady Furina stepped down I have had an influx of responsibilities to take on, and while I am fully prepared to do so—I find myself in need of…”

He seemed a bit lost, maybe a bit embarrassed.

“Some help?” You said softly.

He sighed. “Yes. Even with all of her frivolity and splendor, Lady Furina did take on her fair share of duties when it came to making sure Fontaine stayed well functioning and stable.”

Neuvillette seemed a bit wistful then, slightly sad, staring off into the space just beside your head.

“Monsieur?”

“Ah, forgive me.” He seemed to shake himself out of it. “I am deeply honored to be entrusted with the care of his nation, but it seems like some assistance would be extremely beneficial to this transitionary period in time, and likely beyond as well.”

“If I may say so, sir, I think you’re doing a wonderful job already.” You thought about how well the crisis of the flood was handled, the aftermath, the reparations. “I would be honored if you chose me to be the one to aid you in this.”

He smiled again, softly, and you hoped you’d be able to see it more in the future.

“Thank you,” he said. “I would be so very grateful.”

#genshin impact #genshin #neuvillette x reader #genshin impact neuvillette #neuvillette x female reader #neuvillette fluff #genshin impact x reader #fluff

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sir-kuroo · 5 months

Text

003. 𝙈𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙈𝙄𝘿𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏 • DELUSIONS

track list • prev - next (next wk)

What if the sexy stranger in your dreams and your seductive client at work is actually a ravishing demon determined to love you whatever it takes? Can you break through the delusions?

incubus!kuroo, f!reader, deep pnetration, l-bombs, size kink, dacryphilia

wasn't able to write my solo drabble for kuroo's birthday but definitely not gonna miss this! I remembered a friend once told me to keep on writing even just for that one person believing in my works, I'd like to thank you for picking up this fic and believing in me. I love you. mwah mwah 💋💋

You gripped the sheets as his big cock relentlessly rammed into you. There...There...so good aaahhh...You moaned totally enjoying the sensation.

“Is it good? Am I making you feel good?” he asked, putting in so much effort with how he thrust in you.

“Yes! Yes! It’s so good. You’re so good-” He ate your words, kissing you like your lips were his favorite food.

Your pussy throbbed, and you soon found yourself cumming again.

Opening your eyes, you placed an arm on your forehead. You must be a very horny girl to dream of this non-stop, but you couldn’t deny liking it and not wanting it to stop.

You sighed.

You forgot how he looked like again. Somehow, as days passed, you felt even closer and acquainted to him...the man of your dreams. He’s so sweet but very masculine at the same time.

Your pussy was still throbbing in a good way. You checked in between your legs and found your panties drenched. Don’t tell me...you squirted even in the dream. Your face heated up, embarrassed.

On your way to the coffeeshop, you suddenly became more conscious, noticing that people, specifically men, were now looking at you differently. It wasn’t like this before. You were what they would call a normie, someone you would just pass by, but now you’ve been receiving odd glances.

Having a drink in hand, you saw the old lady again. However, she seemed to be busy doing tarot reading with her makeshift table. You were tempted to approach her to ask more questions, but you’d be having a meeting with Kuroo today.

All this time, you wanted to know if it’s really an incubus in your dreams how come you felt even better ever since? You’re supposed to be losing weight now or all drained out of energy, but you felt the opposite.

You shook the thought away, finally reaching your office building.

“Oh, Y/N! There you are...” A senior from the other department greeted. “Lookin’ good, huh? What’s the secret?”

“Secret?” You looked down on yourself. You fixed yourself just the same and changed nothing.

“Yeah, you seem to be glowing nowadays. Something’s different.”

You’re wearing normal corporate attire, the same minimal make-up, nothing special. “I don’t know.... maybe I’m getting better sleep?”

Well, better was an understatement. Having those lewd dreams was embarrassing but they did make you feel elevated and amazing like a heavy weight was lifted off your shoulders each morning.

“Of course, sleep! Or...maybe you have someone?” She cooed then her eyes suddenly glanced up behind you. You looked back and saw Kuroo.

“Morning, Y/N. Let’s go together?” he pressed the elevator button up.

As usual, he looked so dangerous again. His dark gray pinstriped suit fit him perfectly.

“Sure, sir. Good morning,” you greeted back.

“Okay, I’ll leave you two alone,” your senior bade, winking at you before she walked away.

No way! No way! No way! Your last interaction with Kuroo proved how tricky your situation was. Though you admitted having e a little crush on him, you shouldn’t get carried away. First, it’s unprofessional. Second, he gave off big fuckboy energy.

The elevator doors opened and there’s only the two of you inside. It closed and you took in a sharp breath, which you held. It was so spacious, but he specifically chose to be so close to you. You gulped; he smelled so good—a little spicy just like his personality. His scent was drowning you and making your head all dizzy.

“You smell good,” he leaned down and said to you with grainy voice.

Shivers ran through your spine. You pressed your thighs together. Oh my.

Your attention shifted to your reflection on the steel make of the elevator where you found Kuroo pinning your gaze. He tilted his head, eyes not leaving you as he breathed you in and you took in a deep inhale at the same time.

The doors opened and you told him, “I’ll go to the restroom first.”

You immediately splashed your face with water. Kuroo was painfully making you feel some type of way. He’s unearthing that hidden part of yourself you never thought existed. He was making you feel like a woman. A beautiful, well-desired, most-coveted woman. He’s making all your dreams a reality, but you’re a romance type of girl and not the type he wanted.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

Swaying the glass in his hand, Kuroo stared at the woman from across the room. She was talking to her friends, but that was a while ago. Now, amidst the pulsing lights and the darkness of the bar, she had all her attention shifted to the mysterious man in suit fully captivated by how his gaze pierced through her while his smirk was oddly turning her on.

She stood up and headed towards his direction as expected. It would be almost a month now since he hadn’t eaten anything else aside from you. He thought that maybe it was just a temporary syndrome as he adjusted to a new town.

Kuroo raked his gaze from her head to toes. She’s hot, especially with that white dress hugging her body so tight. Normally, with the quality of sex he thought he’d be having with this woman, he knew he’s gonna get his fill. That’s under normal circumstances.

“What…what’re you drinking?” she asked.

He simply answered, “Rum and coke.”

Dammit! He felt his stomach turning doing this.

“Can I take a sip?”

And he allowed her, she leaned forward and dipped. Her cleavage a free offering for him to see and lust over. She placed a hand on his thigh…

Kuroo grimaced.

Fuck! He knew this would happen. Appalled…he’s appalled. His body was rejecting her hand on his. Last time this happened, he couldn’t get his dick up and ended up in shame. He couldn’t even bring himself to have sex with anyone now. It’s all because of you.

He knew that going to a bar would be a bad idea. After all, he’s not even there to bait some food but just to have a nice drink yet...his strong aura as an incubus was reeking and attracting women non-stop.

Since he was new in town a month back and was still gathering observation, he shifted into his cat form everynight to find a home to stay at. He didn’t expect that you would be kind enough to adopt him, that he would grow fond of you and eventually would come to...love you. It sounded cringey, but right now there’s nothing more cringe-worthy than a hand of a woman on him aside from yours.

They said once an incubus like him falls in love with someone, they could only mate with them and no one else. Kuroo didn’t know that to be true until now when his cock couldn’t stand up in around any other woman’s presence except you.

Though his hunger could be satisfied by his nightly visits in your dreams, nothing could be having you in flesh.

He thought that working with you would make things easier, but he was wrong. His feelings for you only got stronger in each passing day he got to spend with you, and it had been hard to control himself from not having an erection in the office when around you.

“What’s wrong?” The woman asked, still wanting nothing but to have him in between her legs.

You’re wrong. This is wrong. “I should go.” Kuroo stood up almost running away from the scene.

“Wait!” He faintly heard in the background as he loosened his tie and dashed away.

It was a breath of fresh air once he’s out. Taking in the cool wind of the night, he strolled to clear his mind.

No, he didn’t view just as a livestock he could feed on endlessly, and it wasn’t just sex for him. Who would’ve thought that he’d fall for you while you took care of him as a pet?

He drew a long sigh, finding himself at your apartment building. Then, finding himself outside your door. Well, true to his other form, he appeared like a stray cat finally finding his way home after days of misadventure.

What was he even doing here? He berated himself for acting like a creep. Dragging a hand through his face, he accidentally nudged the food you left for him outside your door.

The pet dish elicited a sound which prompted you to open the door.

“Miste-” Your eyes widened at the sight of Kuroo welcoming you instead of your beloved cat. “Sir? What’re you...What’re you doing here?”

I can’t stop thinking about you. “Hey...” Kuroo tried thinking of an excuse, but he couldn’t bring himself to think of any.

“Are you drunk?”

He swallowed. “Just a bit.”

You sighed. “You can’t drive drunk. Do you...” you blushed. “Do you wanna come stay for a while?”

His face heated up. “Sure.”

You let him and he smoothly moved around your apartment much to your surprise.

“Do you wanna have some cof-” You stopped midway, remembering...

“You don’t have coffee,” he stated, which puzzled you. How did he know? “I mean, tea.” He continued.

Maybe, the alcohol was messing up with his speech. You opened one of your cupboards only to discover that you placed the tea on the top shelf. You were about to get a chair to step on, but Kuroo was already behind you, reaching for the box of tea.

“Here,” he said, giving you the item.

“Oh...” you muttered, bemused at how keen he was.

You prepared the tea for him while he watched your every move, reminding you of Mr. Midnight’s habit of doing the exact same thing.

“Here,” you handed him the cup and he took an immediate sip. “So what brings you here?”

“This one’s the nearest to the bar,” Kuroo placed the cup down. “Don’t worry I didn’t follow you around.” Not as a human. “I learned your address through the records.”

“I see...so you sifted through my records, but don’t follow me around. That doesn’t sound creepy,” you teased.

“Hey! I must know your address, okay? That’s just me being responsible since we always have meetings outside. Anything could happen.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, such as you taking shelter because you can’t drive home drunk.”

“Exactly,” he affirmed and continued, drinking his tea.

You took a glance at the watch and noticed that it was past your bedtime. You were trying to keep yourself awake, but sleep was taking over. You were very tired for the day especially that the gala event was in a few days' time from now.

“Thank you,” Kuroo said as he finished his tea, and he was eventually surprised to see you sleeping in front of him. He smiled and pressed your cheek with his index finger like how he usually did it with his paw back then to check if you’re asleep.

Geez...He chortled to himself and carried you to bed. He swept away a few strands of hair from your face and couldn’t help but lay down and curl beside you. Nuzzling his nose on top of your head, he embraced you lovingly tight.

You used to hug him when he was a cat, and he missed those days when he could stay asleep beside you so close like this. How he wished he could finally have you settle in his arms? Though he wanted to pay you a visit in dreams, he’d rather bask in this moment instead, hearing your heartbeat, drowning in your scent and enveloped in your warmth.

Your phone’s alarm rang, which woke you up from your sleep. You sat up in a rush and in disbelief. You didn’t have any dream last night. That’s odd. Even if that’s the case, however, you could feel the familiar touch lingering through your skin. It was as if he held you for real.

Your eyes widened, recalling that Kuroo stayed over for a bit last night. You looked around but he’s no longer to be seen anywhere.

You squashed your face in between your hands and decided to stand up.

“Kuroo?” You called out as you headed to your arriving at your dining area, where you were surprised to discover a cooked omurice. On the surface of it, was a cat doodle made with ketchup and a note that read, Rise and Shine!

Kuroo...you whispered his name in your head so fondly as your face split into a warm grin.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

His tongue danced with yours with his arms caging you in. He’s so warm, and you felt safe wrapped around his presence.

“Were you stressed?” he asked, a hand caressing the top of your face while his eyes conveyed so much concern. “You did a great job. You always do.”

You cupped his face. “’Twas just a long day, but I got you, so it’s fine.”

He smiled and kissed the tip of your nose, “Yeah, you always got me, love. Always remember that.” He caught your lips again and kissed you tenderly, lovingly and deeply. “I’m always right beside you.”

Parting your legs, he thrust into you. Your pussy was slowly being stretched out as he took his time so you could fully feel his size. You bit back a moan as his tip finally reached your core. His hips were moving in a sensual tempo that had you wanting more.

He saw your need and began hitting with force, your tits jiggled everytime he pushed right back in. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he dug deeper, bringing your thighs on both sides if your face, messing you up in a mating press.

“Can you feel me? Can you feel all of me?” He asked under his breath, trying his best to curb his wilder desires and wanting to make you feel loved instead.

“Oh! Aaaahhh....” You moaned, feeling the length of his cock go in and out of your pussy. “Yes, you’re so big. It’s so long. Feels so good.”

“When you say it like that-” he said in pain and pounded fast. His fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he went all out not able to control his impulses anymore.

He conquered your lips and you let yourself be consumed with passion. All you could do was shut your eyes and feel the tears of overwhelming pleasure trickle down. Your nails raked on the skin of his back as you felt like flying with the way he was fucking you senseless yet oh-so-loving at the same time.

“I love you, I love you,” he spewed out in every thrust, and you were drunk in his tender gaze as your insides melted and your body shook.

Slowly, your eyes opened. You could still remember his hands on you. The feel of his length inside you. You ached for him more and more each day and not only in a sexual way. That man...he always made sure you were well-fed everynight, but you wanted to remember who he was. Was he just your imagination? A person from the future? All of this seemed so bittersweet. You had a man who only existed on your dreams, and he made love with you every night like you’re the only person in his eyes.

It’s almost a month now...You hugged yourself, feeling a little cold. At first, you thought all this was sexual, but lately you began feeling loved.

You had many questions...like if it’s really an incubus in your dreams why did you feel even better each day? Why was he so loving to you? Why do you not only feel lust but affection each time he’d hold you close?

You snapped away from your thoughts. You’re approaching the end of your campaign, and somehow you felt some kind of ending happening too. This meant you’d never see Kuroo again. You looked at him from across the table. This time you would be having an emergency meeting in the lobby of the hotel where the Gala Event for the project would be held next week.

However, you were quite bothered at the thought of not seeing him anymore.

“Why are you sad, hmm?” He asked, resting his face on his palm, breaking your thoughts in the middle of work.

“Oh, I just remembered something-”

Your eyes widened.

Out of the blue, he had something soft pressed on your face. It’s...It’s a black cat plushie. He looked from behind the little stuffed toy. What’s that expression he’s giving you? Like he’s trying to be cute, sporting a small pout with cheeks a little puffed. “He'd be sad if you are too, y’know?”

“W-What’s this, sir?”

“All yours,” he said, plopping the plushie on the table. “Take good care of him.”

Oh...You remembered having a discussion with him about Mr. Midnight. It’s...sweet that he remembered—that he knew how much you missed your little rascal. A smile couldn’t help but show on your face.

“What would you name it?” he asked.

“Kuro,” you held the plushie. “I’ll name him Kuro.”

“I’m honored,” Kuroo the person grinned, and the moment felt like it paused for a while. Why...Why were you feeling the beat of your heart in your ears?

Get a grip! You shouldn’t be feeling this way. Maybe...Maybe he’s just great with women, you said to yourself.

How can a man like him even like someone like you, right?

Your inner musings were interrupted by a hotel staff member when she approached both of you, her expression didn’t spell good news. “Excuse me, ma’am, sir. I’m the personnel assigned for banquet sales. Unfortunately, we found your event booked on a different date on our calendar.”

“What? We already signed an agreement for this with that exact date indicated,” you replied, conviction evident on your tone.

“Yes, ma’am. We’re very sorry, but there’s been a mistake.”

“We already sent out the invitations,” you said, a little infuriated. It would be a shame on your part to deliver a mistaken message to the delegates, especially that the event would be next week, and the suppliers were already booked for the date.

“My apologies, ma’am. We can schedule your event some other dates or refund you in full.”

You heaved and fetched the contract in your phone, rereading the agreement despite knowing the outcome. It’s a loss case. It’s written there that the establishment reserved the right to refuse, and you knew all of them had that clause, because the agreement will always be in favor of the contracting party.

“Do you have any other function halls available on our date?” Kuroo stepped in.

The lady checked her files and informed, “Unfortunately sir, the only available room couldn’t accommodate your number of guests.”

“How ‘bout that...” He pointed at one of the dining halls. “Will that be available on our date?”

“I’ll double check, sir. Please wait here for a while,” said the staff member before she went to check.

“That’s...That’s expensive,” you worriedly informed Kuroo.

He placed a hand on your shoulder and grinned, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

Your eyes searched his. His tone...The way he made you feel so secure...It’s like de ja vu. Who...Who are you? The question suddenly came to the top of your mind, however before you could make more sense of it, the personnel arrived.

“Good news, ma’am and sir. The Wine Room was still not taken. We can reserve it for you at a discounted price as our way to compensate for the mistake we made on your original booking.”

“That’s good then!” Kuroo turned to you and winked. You smiled at him, unplanned and involuntarily.

Why did he have to be like this? Why was Kuroo making you feel like he might also feel the same way you’re starting to feel for him?

You hugged the Kuro plushie close. Suddenly, you felt a bit scared, scared that after all of this was done, you were never going to see him again.

TAG LIST: Get tagged on the latest release. Leave a 😈emoji on the reply section or on my ASK.

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 MISTER MIDNIGHT #kuroo smut #kuroo x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hq smut #hq x reader #kuroo fic #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n

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cupcraft · 1 month

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Based on my own experiences with many emotionally abusive PI's and also being groomed by one, I wanted to make a list of things to look out for. I am speaking from my own experiences, but I do think it's important. I hope this helps you, for any fellow people in stem, in academia, in research, or in university. Some of the examples I use are ones I have either experienced personally, I know people who have experienced similar, or ones I thought of based on my experience.

Professors should communicate with you over email primarily, or school/work approved channels. It can be a red flag if they use your personal number to contact you and especially if they show anger or feel threatened you try to keep the conversations over safe channels (like your school email).

Professors should not be contacting you about personal things, asking you to be their emotional support system, asking you personal questions, love bombing you, talking to you "like a friend", etc. It is important your mentor keeps a professional boundary between you and them when you are their direct employee or student. I say this because I realize some people may say "Ever since I've graduated I am close and good friends with my old PI/professor", but what I am talking about is when you are their student and the professional boundaries are blurred and crossed. For example, a professor texting you "Hello can we change our meeting to 2PM?" or "How is your data collection going?" or "Good job at the conference. I am proud of you!" are examples of likely professional statements. Examples that are not professional and are inappropriate can be "I'm at a bonfire at my friends house, you should come by next time!" and "Do you like the picture UNIVERSITY just took of me?" and something like "How are you doing tonight? I'm have a beer and a good dinner, going to be a blast."

it is never appropriate for them to yell at you or belittle you. It is never appropriate for them to degrade or embarrass you. If you make a mistake it is your mentor's responsibility to communicate that you made a mistake and be clear about their expectations of you going forward. It is also appropriate for your professor to give you constructive criticism, to give you expectations and deadlines, correct you when you are wrong about something, and express mild or professional level of disappointment when you do something irresponsible (for example, working with a chemical unsafely around another coworker, if you say something unprofessional or inappropriate that warrants correction, if you do not meet a deadline for something time sensitive like a federal grant application, etc.) It is not appropriate for them to be disappointed or guilt tripping about human errors and mistakes. You should not fear being corrected by your mentor, you should not be afraid to admit mistakes, you should not feel like they have "good days" and "bad days" when it comes to these things, you should not be held accountable for things out of your control (ie the experiment fails and needs to be redone even though you made no mistakes and your technique was fine). You should never be yelled at. You should not be given critique with no solutions (ie your professor saying "You don't work hard enough" and then giving you no reasons or constructive reasons why, ie your professor saying "Your emails annoy me" with no reasons or constructive solutions to improving your communication). Professors should also not hold you accountable for things that are their fault (ie your mentor yells at you for not submitting something on time that they never told you was due or that they wanted within in a specific time). You also should be mindful that professor's like anyone else in your life should have appropriate levels of reactions to things, even more so with a professional boundary. For example, if you miss a meeting them screaming at you and insulting you and acting like this is the ultimate betrayal is not an appropriate reaction to that mistake.

Your mentor should not joke inappropriately with you. They should not tell you jokes that obscure professional lines or are concealed belittlement. Examples: "If you don't pass your test I'll whip you!", [sexual/romantic/intimate jokes of any kind]. "I was confused by your email, must be all the beer I've been drinking!".

Your professor should not be talking about other students, coworkers, and even other professors behind their back to you. Example, "UNDERGRADUATE STUDENT is so dramatic when she makes mistakes don't you think?", "OTHER PROFESSOR doesn't deserve to get grants, I can't believe you're taking his class", "YOUR COWORKER has been going through a lot these past few months + [proceeds to tell you personal & private information about them]"

The hardest part about school/research/academia should bet he work. It can be difficult and burnout is common especially when deadlines out of your control comes up and understandable (given that you are not being overworked). What shouldn't be difficult is the mentor you have. You should not be burnt out, depressed, or exhausted because of how your mentor treats you. You should not fear going to work. You should not have to lie/people please/perform to avoid a "bad day" from your mentor. You should not be made to cry, or mentally break down weekly or even daily or even ever by your mentor.

It can be a red flag if your professor insults you to your face but to colleagues/other professors/other professionals they sing your praises and over-compliment you.

Your professor should not ask you to do things that are unsafe or illegal. They should not ask you to do things that are OSHA violations, against federal lab safety guidelines (ie via the state DOT, EPA, EHRS, etc). They should not ask you to transport things in your car that could be unsafe, especially over state lines.

Maybe stem specific, but do not work in a lab that does not follow HIPAA guidelines, that does not follow the IRB, that does not follow the iACUC. For your own safety career wise + personally, this is not a safe situation to be in.

Mentors should not ask you things that are personal or private about you without you stating it first/giving the okay. Examples: asking about family, asking about health status and medications, asking about disabilities/mental health diagnoses, asking about sex and romantic life, asking about drinking and or drug use, asking intimate details about your outside friends and family, etc. It is not to say you cannot talk about these things, but they should not ask you and boundaries and consent is important here.

Red flag could be how your professor treats other students, even if you feel like they are "treating you well."

it could be a red flag if your professor overly rewards you or gives you intimate and expensive gifts. This is very much context dependent. Here's some examples from my groomer that I have catalogued as appropriate and not appropriate: When I was close to graduating he gifted me a hardcover book of a mathematical theorem we were studying, which I saw as appropriate. What i saw as inappropriate, was him giving me chocolates/cookies + intimate notes/cards for my birthday.

It is not necessarily unprofessional to have lunch with your professor or even other meals but again this can be context dependent (+ within your own boundaries). Potentially appropraite: "Hello. I need to reschedule our meeting for Noon? Can we meet over lunch?". Likely inappropriate (example from my own groomer): over text says something like "Rolls the dice...lunch? We can then walk around PARK NEAR YOUR HOUSE together."

Red flags can be that a professor starts to blur professional lines after you leave their lab or graduate, especially as these boundaries were pushed throughout the relationship.

Professors should be open to constructive criticism as a mentor and take accountability healthily and non defensively.

Professors should not be texting or calling you "off hours". There are some very specific situations this may be appropriate (Ie you are a graduate student and your professor who also does benchwork in the lab calls you with a lab related emergency regarding your samples (ie the freezer broke) or regarding safety if you are on the emergency contact list). They should not be calling you for personal matters/chatting you up like you are a friend/dating.

It is never appropriate to be asked to do romantic or sexual favors from a professor. It is also inappropriate for them to blackmail you

#tw grooming #tw abuse #psa #ask to tag #can rb #can add on #can send me asks about #theres more i wanted to add but i hit character limit ?

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azulsluver · 9 months

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𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑

tw. aggressive behavior, mentioned hallucinations/murder.

|| Note: You will be addressed as [Mx. LN]—which means last name ||

[01] [02]

you always thought of the good of people, everyone deserves a second chance. with files in hand, you enter the luxuries building filled with lost souls. the very first patient who goes by the name,

Riddle Rosehearts,

waits patiently for your arrival. dying to meet his savior.

the queen has gone mad!

People always told you how good of a person you were. With a pat on the head and a pinch to the cheeks you were a good child with good intentions. Always seeing the bright side of things, aware of current and past situations to make you even more mature. It was a perk everyone adored from you.

Likewise, you wanted to do something more with your kindness. Studying the human behavior was interesting and unique in your eyes. You wanted nothing more than to help those in need, those less fortunate. Your heart was heavy which often times let’s you trip over the hands that wish to take advantage of you.

Your life was going just where you wanted, hired in a field where you can help the mentally ill, and with a supportive fiance who waits for you every night with a hot meal on the table.

—

(0)

—

With a click of your pen pressing down on the tip, the sound soothing your ears with each press. Your eyes scan over the many files of your assigned patient, it switches up every week with new faces. Wanting to be familiar with them you study each character’s appearance to their background. Interesting, intimidating and beautiful, pictures from mugshots to present photos. Looking up at the clock in the wall besides the clicking of your pen, the handles little movements are just as loud to remind you.

You gather the files back in a neat pile by slamming it gently on the table in order, tucking them under your arm. The pen clipped to your work shirt as the outside of the room gets busy. Heels ponder the floor as you make your exit out of your office, admiring how docile some patients are as they go for a walk near the garden.

The hallways were something you were determined to remember by, each carved figure and painting makes it unique to look. You’re almost too caught up in the beauty of your surroundings to see how your area of people tend to get smaller and smaller.

“Are you insane? You let him speak to me as some peasant!? I can’t take this any longer, I’m reporting this to the headmaster..” A lady screams just across from you.

She storms right pass you without notice, bumping into your shoulder. She’s wearing an ID clipped to her chest, the first thing you thought of was how unprofessional that was but kept that to yourself.

“Ma’am! Please wait—“

“Leave her man, they always complain.” A blue haired guard runs past you, ignoring his coworkers comment.

What an odd encounter. You turn your attention to the more laid back security guard who puts a hand over his neck. Disappointment spreads his features before irking a smile your way. Your lips pull back into one as well, a small wave.

“Say, are you new here? Haven’t seen you around before.” His voice is playful and lively, the atmosphere changing just as quickly.

“I am. I’ve grown accustomed to this place just last week before moving my belongings.” Small talk, but hopefully it was quick because your first patients room just so happens to be right behind him.

“Sweet, we’ll I’ll see you around!” He tips his cap towards you, his walkie-talkie flaring to life as the man from before crackles.

Now that they were out of the way, you noticed that the lady who stormed off left the room you were supposed to enter. Shrugging, you make your way towards the door. Your hand grazes the handle, its oddly making you feel heavy and warm.

You stop yourself from turning the handle.

Knock Knock

“May I enter?”

It’s silent for a moment before you heard someone. You enter. The room is coated in a nice smell of herbs and roses, you close the door gently behind you before looking up to meet the eyes of your patient.

His face is relaxed, yet his lips look more of a frown as his brows are sharp and small. His demeanor is slightly intimidating yet his looks are beyond pleasing to look at. Large eyes watching you as you sit on a chair across from him. He seems to be having tea, his spoon mixing the herbs together. You’re unsure of who has been providing him tea, his records show that he should at least be supervised.

You eye the tea, it’s not hot because there is no smoke piling off it. You get straight to work, clearing your throat.

“Good morning, Riddle. My name is [Mx. LN]. We will be talking just for today, how does that sound?” You place a hand over your chest putting up your best introduction to get him comfortable to speak with you.

He brings the tea cup to his lips, not a noise made but the movement of his throat as he drinks. Riddle seems to be pondering for a moment, gazing at the tea before straightening himself up. His eyes seem to glare at you now, the sudden change of his attitude didn’t alarm you however.

“You’re much more civilized than the current one. How rude of her to walk out so sudden, it’s not my fault she can’t handle simple criticism. Doesn’t she know who she’s speaking too!”

Interesting, you nod along to his angry rant, taking note on how his pupils dilated and how the grip on the teacup makes his knuckles turn white. Strangely enough his body heat is clear to the eye, his face contorts from a lovely looking man to some angry sports fan. The redness on his face nearly matching his hair.

Riddle let’s out a sigh, that got out of his system and he never felt better when not being interrupted.

“Apologies…how crude of me to behave towards my underlings.” You blink.

There is a small silence again, you aren’t sure on how to respond, not when his smile is nothing but comforting. Was he aware of his behavior? How he speaks to you like some higher being yet with a tiny pinch of kindness.

Almost like child playing make believe.

“I see. I can understand how upsetting that is. Is there anything else that’s upsetting you?—“

“My king.” Riddle snaps at you, his brows furrow at you.

“Pardon?”

He makes a face of irritation, you’d have no choice but to play along to not further anger him.

“Right. My king..” The name is funny yet sends goosebumps down your arms. “I’m here to listen for your troubles.”

There’s a flash of calmness through all those fury, his breathing is much more softer and so was the atmosphere. You played carefully with your words, testing some phrases to see how he’d react. Riddle doesn’t like any back talk from what you’re understanding. His records were right about this “delusion” he’s been experiencing lately. A terrible outburst, stuck in the past as he believes rightfully the name he’s being addressed by is appropriate.

Although it’s unhealthy to encourage this behavior, you’ll try to worm your way into his comfort. That way things could be settled easier, communication would flow once he’s trusted you enough to set personal boundaries.

Riddle thinks over his next response, touching his forehead with a silent hiss. Medication, each patient must have medication in the morning. You cough into your hand.

“Have you taken your medication yet?”

“No…that imbecile of a woman has not yet fulfilled her duty.” You’ll call someone in later to give him his meds. Maybe next time he’d be more docile.

Time goes much slower than you expected. You get to understand a picture of Riddle’s world or view. He’s seeing things that shouldn’t be there, but those are rare occurrences. You don’t disagree over certain topics, he enjoys talking about the garden he gets to visit during his free time. Riddle is much more kinder when agreed upon, he wants things his way. Although it isn’t entirely that difficult to twists those needs.

By now he’s finished his tea, you’ve been chatting for a good hour now. You stand up and bowed a goodbye for your leave, Riddle was pleased with it at least. As you close the door behind you with a huff, you remember to report his medication to his personal nurse.

Trey, was it? You have plenty of time to get to know your new colleagues.

—

(0)

—

The door shuts with a soft click, it rings a melody in his ears. Riddle frowns at hearing your footsteps slowly disappear. He sits quietly in his seat, taking glances at the empty tea cup and white clean room. The light above him burns when he looks up. He’s bored. No one is around to talk with, not until another hour or Trey comes back.

…..how silly, he does have friends to talk to. He can’t wait for free time, there’s a white rabbit hidden behind rows of rose bushes. It doesn’t make much noise anymore, but it’s good company.

#asylum!au #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

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AITA for telling my father's wife to leave me alone and stop diagnosing me when she has no credibility??

tw: Self Harm

English not my first language. Complaints at the counter.

So my (17f) father (51m) is now remarried to a lady I will call Lola (48f). Lola isn't a bad person (I think?) but she is a psychoanalyst (is that what it's called in english??). Essentially, she does the work of a psychologist without having ever studied psychology and without any of the licensing necessary for it. I do not like psychoanalysts, but that's not really the problem here. I've never made any jabs at her job, but she has a few habits I really hate (telling me things about her patients, even showing me their faces, etc etc) but the one I hate most is her arm chair diagnosing. Lola LOVES to diagnose people. One day, we were in the market and we saw a little boy organizing and stacking cans, and she said he DEFINETELY had OCD. I was annoyed at this, for obvious reasons. Now, her diagnosing has transferred onto me. I was unlucky enough to have her find out about my self harming habits, and now she's absolutely convinced that I have BPD. She's told this to my father, me and even a few strangers I don't know. It's mortifying. I don't think I have BPD, but even if I did, I wouldn't want anyone going around telling others my mental issues. I especially hate that my father has access to my vulnerabilities through her, because he's an awful person through and through (abusive in everyway). I recently snapped at her after she told my brother that I had BPD, and I told her she was unqualified, unprofessional, and absolutely wrong and should learn to keep her armchair diagnoses to herself. Both her and my father are upset about this so now I apparently need to apologize before I step foot in their house again, but I don't really feel like it. Am I the asshole? I don't think I'm in the wrong exactly but maybe I should've just tried to approach it more amicably so I didn't fuck up the delicate balance of our stepmother/stepdaughter relationship.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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mixtape-racha · 6 months

Text

the drug in me is you | choi beomgyu

words: 3.94k // warnings: rockstar!beomgyu x bandmate!reader, vocalist!beomgyu, bassist!reader, friends to lovers, angst, lots of plot, harboured crush, crying, l-bombs, confessions, emotionally intelligent but stunted beomgyu, mentioned jeongin and heeseung as band members, me not knowing how to end a fic lolz

everytime, without fail, when you came offstage after a gig, you’d be met by the grinning face of beomgyu bouncing around the green room. genuinely, every single time without fail. it became a routine, a reaction you expected. and it was so, so fucking endearing. the way his eyes would shine, running around thanking and congratulating all of the other band members and the backstage team. the way he preened under praise, the way he giggled when he got told he did well.

sometimes it confused you - how was that the same man who was on stage a mere 5 minutes ago, dark and seductive as he sang sweet words to harsh melodies, who had women throwing themselves at his feet for just a second glance? but at the end of it all, he was always your beomie. the same short and skinny kid who was paired with you for a project in 8th grade and you hadn’t been able to get rid of since. the same kid who held you through your first heartbreak, and held you even tighter as you sobbed at your first gig together. the same kid who told you he couldn’t be in a band without you, because there’s no one else he’d rather have beside him on stage, playing bass so beautifully.

yeah, he was your beomie, and nothing could change that. not even all the groupies begging for a moment alone with him, nor the constant shipping of him with random celebrities online. while you weren’t a couple, or even close, those who knew you knew that he would always be yours, and you would always be his.

until he wasn’t. until one of the groupies that had been following your band for a while managed to get beomgyu wrapped around her finger. they weren’t dating - by no means was beomgyu looking for a relationship with her, but he could’ve fooled you. your smoke sessions in the back of the tour bus after a show soon became non-existent, beomgyu opting to take his favorite groupie to a nearby hotel instead, only waltzing back to the bus at the last possible second before you needed to leave to head to your next venue.

for a while you pinned your annoyance down to his unprofessionalism, pissed off that he would put a random girl before the career you had both worked so hard for. but after a while, you began to realize it wasn’t about her at all. it was about you. you felt neglected by your best friend, someone you’d had by your side for so many years. and it stung, especially knowing how much you’d sacrificed for him over the years.

it all came to a head at the final show of your tour - the exceedingly impulsive flirting between all of the band members, the bottles of beer being drunk on stage giving you all that final confidence boost you needed. the screams of fans, the cheering as you finished your set and said your goodbyes. all four of you were ecstatic, but even the other members were sick of beomgyu’s constant abandonment given their reactions.

“right, well, i guess you’re off for the night now, beom? we’re probably gonna go back to the bus and smoke anyway.” jeongin asked, face hard as he anticipated beomgyu’s reaction.

“actually,” beomgyu sneered, sick of everyone’s disapproval of his actions - it wasn’t like he was the only person in history to fuck a groupie. “was gonna take us all out for drinks, but fuck the lot of you.”

you were mad at beomgyu. you really were, and you shouldn’t fall back into his web so easily. but after knowing him so long, that’s exactly what you did, time and time again.

“i don’t really fancy smoking tonight, i’ll come find a bar with you, beomie.” you smiled, ignoring heeseung rolling his eyes in your peripheral vision. however, beomgyu looked elated, quickly pulling you into a half-hug.

“see? my girl’ll never let me down.”

god you hated the way your body reacted to that. but nonetheless, you wandered out of the venue with beomgyu, fixated on finding a bar nearby that wouldn’t be overrun with people who had left your gig earlier. that was the difficult part - because as much as you loved your fans, you didn’t want to be overrun with people when you were trying to have a chill night. you were real people too.

luckily, it wasn’t hard to find a quiet bar on the outskirts of the area surrounding the venue. you were quick to grab a stool near the bar, fluttering your eyelashes at beomgyu as you told him that if he really loved you, he’d buy you a drink. that was a routine with the pair of you - even though every single time, beomgyu was going to buy your drink anyway.

but this time it was slightly different. it was kind of awkward between the two of you. the first time in a few weeks you’d been alone, not having your best friend torn away from you by an over-excited groupie. and nothing could go your way, could it? because you’d barely started your second drink before lo-and-behold - your least favorite groupie wandered into the bar, eyes instantly fixated on beomgyu.

your heart hammered in your chest, anger overtaking you. had he arranged to meet her here? was he going to leave you to go and fuck her? well, not if you left first. pushing the stool back harshly, the scraping of the feet on the floor making beomgyu wince, you grabbed your bag, fumbling to shove a cigarette in your mouth.

“i’m going for a smoke. let me know when hanging out with me is more important than a cheap fuck.” you sneered, not giving him a moment to respond before you were stomping out of the bar. you knew you were probably being dramatic, but you were beyond caring in that moment.

why else would she be in that bar, of all the bars nearby? was it not enough when beomgyu had her in a new hotel room every night of the tour? was she convinced they were together now? or worse… were they actually together?

you just couldn’t believe the audacity of beomgyu! he hadn’t even followed you out to make sure you were okay, and that realization had you heading back in the direction of the tour bus, cigarette in hand. fuck beomgyu - you’d hang out with jeongin and heeseung instead. they were always fun to get high with - you could get a pizza and watch coraline, like last time you all got stoned together.

you hadn’t got further than twenty feet before you heard a call of your name, turning on your feet to see beomgyu running from the bar to catch up with you, calling out for you to wait. it stung, in all honesty, and you didn’t even want to hear him out. but you knew he wouldn’t give up until you had, so it was probably better to get it over with.

stamping your cigarette out, you folded your arms as he came to a halt in front of you, panting slightly.

“what the fuck was that about?” he wheezed, brows furrowed in confusion. “why are you leaving? we just got here! i don’t get why you’re in a shitty mood all of a sudden!”

you scoffed at his words, a sneer on your face. “aren’t you leaving someone behind, gyuie?” you spat out the nickname you’d heard the infamous groupie giggle at him so many times. “i’m sure she’s waiting for you to drag her to the nearest hotel. can’t fuck her on every tour stop and leave out the last one, can you?”

beomgyu’s face hardened at that, and you couldn’t believe the audacity he had to get annoyed at you.

“is that why you’re throwing a bitch fit? seriously, y/n, we all sleep with fans. i don’t get why its such a big deal— i didn’t complain when you brought that poser back to the tour bus last year!”

you were enraged at his tone. how dare he try and flip this on you? shaking your head at him, you took a step away, ready to leave.

“thats not the problem, gyu. the problem is that you’ve completely abandoned m- us. you’ve abandoned us all tour for some pussy you’ll forget in a month.”

“abandoned?!” he spluttered, your words catching him off-guard. “i haven’t abandoned anyone!”

“when was the last time you hung out with us after a show, beomgyu? the last time you sat with us and told us all we did a good job, that it was a good show and you enjoyed it? when was the last time you hung out with me?” you voice raised in pitch as your feelings came tumbling out. “i’m your best friend. at least i’m supposed to be! we haven’t hung out at all, and i miss it. i miss you. you’re neglecting me, and its not fair for me to put all the effort it. i can’t do it anymore!”

when you were met with stunned silence, you continued walking away, not wanting to see his response or hear his excuses. you just wanted to get back to the bus, sleep and go home in the morning. take a break. maybe go on holiday - spend some time with yourself. if beomgyu wasn’t willing to reciprocate your energy, maybe you weren’t supposed to be best friends for life after all.

you couldn’t help the way tears built in your eyes, beginning to roll down your face. after all these years, all it took was a girl to rip beomgyu away from you. not even a girlfriend, just a girl who he enjoyed keeping around for a few hours and then leaving to come running home. god… you were a mess. you shouldn’t be this upset about it. its not like you were in love with him.

oh… oh god.

you stopped in your tracks, heart thumping in your chest. was that the issue? were you harboring feelings towards beomgyu that you never wanted to admit to yourself? god, why did this have to be happening to you? it was why you’d go to the ends of the earth for him, why you supported all his dreams and bad decisions. why you would drop all your plans for him in a heartbeat. god, you were fucked.

you swore you’d never walked back to the bus faster, waving jeongin and heeseung off when they questioned you on where beomgyu was. you were fast to crawl into your bunk, plugging in your headphones as the other boys began discussing what they believed beomgyu was doing - or, who he was doing.

it was hard to keep your tears silent, but you’d be damned if you let them see you so upset, so you tried your hardest. you didn't know when you fell asleep, or when beomgyu got back to the bus, but you were too emotionally exhausted to care.

you weren’t sure when you fell asleep, or what time it was when you woke up. the bus had pulled into a service station for a rest stop, and you cringed as your joints cracked when you jumped out of your bunk. giving your manager a small wave, you rolled a cigarette, tucking a lighter into your pockets, and stepped off the bus into the sunrise.

“sleep good?”

you jumped, whirling around to see beomgyu perched on the floor next to the bus, rolling his own cigarette.

“guess so…” you mumbled, the lighter becoming more interesting by the second as you sparked up and took a much-needed drag of nicotine. it was hard to avoid beomgyu’s eyes, especially when they were boring into the side of your head, so you took the bait and perched on the floor next to him. “you sleep alright?”

he shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “decent. would’ve slept better if i knew why my favorite girl was mad at me, though.”

the words fell out of his mouth so easily it made you feel nauseous. god, what was wrong with you? suddenly the world felt too loud, too bright. your chest tightened as you shook your head at him. words seemed to fail you, so you opted to rest your head on his shoulder, arms wrapping around one of his.

“not mad, gyu. never mad. just…. disappointed? hurt? i dunno, i just felt a bit neglected.”

he sighed, and you mentally braced yourself for another yelling match, shoulders tense… but surprisingly it never came. instead beomgyu’s hand landed on your shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly as he shook his head.

“i get it… n’i wanna say sorry for making you feel that way. guess i kinda got caught up in the moment, huh? if… if it helps, she knew from the start that as soon as tour was done i’d probably never see her again, and she was okay with it. got what she wanted, i guess.”

your heart ached at his words, even the thought of him seeing her making you feel physically sick. but you needed to push that aside, no matter what - you need beomgyu as a friend, and you couldn’t jeopardize that.

“we just missed you, that’s all. the bus got too quiet without you.”

after your heart-to-heart that day, you and beomgyu never brought up the infamous groupie again - it was irrelevant, because you fell straight back into your regular pattern. no tour, no schedules, so you got to do whatever you wanted. your managers had forced you into a break for the rest of the year - which, much to heeseung’s dismay, meant no studio sessions until the new year. after the year you’d had, you deserved the break, and your team would make sure you got it no matter the cost.

quite early into your careers taking off, you and beomgyu had decided to move in together - it meant less bills, split rent, and not having to worry about 2 homes while you were away touring the world. in hindsight, it wasn’t your best idea, and given how awkward you were in close proximity to him lately, part of you wished you could go back in time and never agree to moving into his house.

unfortunately for you, beomgyu wasn’t entirely stupid and was relatively quick to pick up on your unintentional avoidance of him - at least, it started off unintentionally anyway. the two fo you were supposed to go out tonight, meet a group of high school friends at a restaurant, but a mere 4 hours before you canceled. he didn’t even know at first - seeing your message pop up in the allocated groupchat and scanning it; the words “sorry” and “unwell” catching his eyes. you weren’t unwell in the slightest - he’d just heard you on the phone to your mom and you sounded absolutely fine.

he didn’t get a chance to confront you for about an hour, ambushing you in the kitchen when you finally left your room to grab a bottle of cola.

“unwell, huh? probably shouldn’t be drinking a soda and loading up on salty snacks, then, should you?”

you cringed upon hearing his voice, turning from the fridge to find him leaning against the doorframe, eyes narrowed as he studied your figure. there were two ways you could handle this - genuinely feign being unwell, earning the issue that he might stay at home to look after you if he believed you, or burst into tears on the spot. and being the eloquent person you were, you went for the latter option. not that you had much of a choice, seeing how beomgyu looked at you with a teasing smile on his lips but such care in his eyes.

those eyes widened as a sob suddenly racked your body, rushing over and hands scrambling to pull you into a hug. he didn’t know where this had come from, and he was baffled. had he missed something? all he did was tease you for your awful snacking habits like always.

“hey- hey, are you okay? i’m sorry if it sounded like i was accusing you– you’d just seemed so excited for this dinner lately!” his voice raised in pitch as he tried to comfort you, and it made you feel awful, another cry ringing through the kitchen.

“i’m so sorry, gyu-! just can’t do it, wanna go to bed, m’sorry-”

he shushed you so carefully, as if afraid you might break, and you almost can’t take it. you wrap your arms around him, unable to stop your cries and whimpers. its like all your emotions from the past few weeks have come tumbling out at once, and you have no way to stop them, and it terrifies you. what do you tell him when he asks why you’re upset? what do you tell him when he holds you close and tells you that you can trust him with anything, that he’ll do anything he can to help you?

“d’you want me to stay home? i– i can cancel, i don’t mind! we can just order in some food and watch some shitty movies, that always cheers you up? yeah?”

he sounded so painfully confused, and it sent a shiver down your spine. how much longer could you do this? how much longer could you live with him, work with him, share every aspect of your life with him, without telling him how you felt? deep down, you felt like you were betraying him by keeping it a secret. he cared so much about you, and always told you everything - like your opinion mattered most to him, and that your reactions alone could define how he acted on a daily basis.

“you don’t have to cancel, gyu. you can go, i don’t mind, i just… i can’t sit in a restaurant with all those girls fawning over you while i sit there like an idiot.”

subconsciously, you prayed that he wouldn’t read between the lines, not pick up on the true meaning of your words, but he was more emotionally intelligent than you gave him credit for. he pulled away from the hug, your face cupped between his large hands and his eyes studying you carefully.

“i’m going to cancel,” he said firmly, voice serious as he held you. “i’m going to message and cancel, and we’re going to have a night-in together, and we’re going to talk, okay?”

he planted a soft kiss on your forehead as he walked away, something he always did, but this time it felt different. he stopped when he reached the threshold back into the living room, turning to you with a soft smile on his face.

“go take a shower, okay? get in some comfy clothes, and i’ll meet you back here in about an hour.”

god knows that hour passed too quickly. you were so stressed the entire time that passed, overthinking in the shower, putting too many decisions into what comfy clothes to wear. why were you trying to impress him? there was no need, he was your friend about to sit down and have a serious chat with you. even as you took careful steps towards the living room, greeted by the sight of beomgyu sat on the couch under a blanket - harry potter loaded up onto the tv screen - your heart felt like it was beating so fast it might explode.

he didn’t seem to notice you until you sat, quick to toss you a blanket and gesture for you to sit closer.

“why are you being shy? come sit with me, stupid.” while his voice held its usual teasing tone, there was something else in it - something you didn’t recognize as you scooted across the cushion closer to your best friend.

he didn’t start the movie yet, hand dancing over the remote before pulling away and shifting in his seat to face you.

“you wanna talk? or d’you wanna order food and watch the movie first?”

you sighed softly, knowing no matter how much you wanted to put this off that you couldn’t do that anymore. so instead, you nodded, mimicking his position.

“i can tell you’ve figured it out, gyu. so just get this over with please?”

he hesitated for a second before nodding, fidgeting with his fingers.

“you like me, don’t you? as more than a friend.. and that’s why you’ve been acting so strange lately. i knew something was up when you started avoiding me, but it just took me a while to piece it all together. can i– can i just ask; how long? i wanna make sure i have everything straight in my head.”

“i think i always have, i just never realized it. i kind of,” you sighed again, words difficult to articulate. “i finally started being honest with myself at the end of tour– i just didn’t want to spring it on you and ruin our friendship, so i’ve been trying to force myself out of it. i really do like you, gyu, a lot. more than i’ve ever liked anyone, god, i think i’m in fucking love with you. i just didn’t want to risk our friendship or our careers.”

you teared up slightly as you finished speaking, the silence of the room deafening as beomgyu processed your words.

“i don’t..” he stopped, trying to figure out how to best voice his feelings, not wanting to hurt you at all. “i think i’ve always known we were supposed to be together. i like you - of course i do - and i’d be stupid if i didn’t say i’ve always found you attractive...”

you huffed at that, folding your arms around yourself and effectively cutting off his words.

“you can’t force yourself into reciprocating just for the sake of my feelings, gyu. honestly, i just need closure. i need you to reject me, tell me you only see me as a friend, so i can move on. i can’t keep torturing myself by being in love with you, its not fair.”

“y/n, please, just listen to me.” he pleaded, grasping your hands in his. you looked up at him when you heard the desperation in his voice, and your heart broke at the pain on his features. you didn’t realize by torturing yourself, you’d end up torturing him too in the process. god, you hated human emotions.

“y/n, i– i want to, okay? i want to love you, just as much as you love me. i know i’ve always been particularly inept when it comes to emotions, and healthy relationships, but i want to change. i just– i need time. i’m going to learn to love you, no matter what it takes, i’m going to work on myself and be who you deserve.”

you couldn’t help the tears that rolled down your face again, salty drops falling from your skin onto the material of the couch beneath you. but beomgyu wasn’t finished spilling all of himself, oh no. and what could you do except listen?

“its always been you, and i’ve been too immature to develop that. who else knows me better, hmm? i’ve been too wrapped up in this rock ‘n roll lifestyle, that i haven’t allowed myself to realize that everything meaningful has always been right here. will you… will you wait for me? will you let me learn? teach me how to love?”

“of course i will, gyu,” you sobbed, pulling a hand away from his to wipe away to wetness from your cheeks. “i’d wait forever for you, whether i wanted to or not.”

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