#first and only time i’ve blocked a mutual mid-conversation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bratkook · 5 years ago

Text

almost. (m) jjk.

not yet, almost, right now

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, baby angst, smut word count. 6.4k warnings. two idiots!!, pining, masturbation (m. and f.), use of vibrator, accidental voyeurism?, more feelings come to light!! summary. jungkook tries to be the best wingman he could be in your new venture after your breakup. he could do it, right? note. part two of not yet, some more feelings are exposed, please don’t hate oc she is but a pendeja that doesn’t see the obvious feelings jungkook has but she has good intentions i promise<3 there will most likely be a final part,,if you guys are into it lmao okie bye

The cool summer breeze flows around you as you’re sitting under the shade, eyes focused on the chaos of runny yolk and hashbrowns that is your breakfast. Jungkook on the other hand, is focused on you. His signature yellow shades block out the sun reflecting from passing cars, concealing his eyes just enough for you to not see him blatantly staring at you while you stuff your face.

The charmed smile he has falters slightly when you look directly at him, hashbrown lingering by your lip as you repeat his name. “Sorry, what?”

Your brows come together as you smile at his zoned out state, something you had grown fond of in the years of knowing him, always enjoying the small dazed look that graced his face whenever he was lost in his thoughts. His lips push out slightly in question, curious eyes wondering just what you could have been asking him.

“I was saying that I think I’m giving up on crushes and love.” You say it so easily, mind made up as you grin at him before continuing to shovel hashbrowns into your mouth, only pausing to take a sip of your iced coffee.

Jungkook tries his best to seem unaffected, nodding along in interest as he takes a steady bite of his own food. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, taking a look around at the people surrounding you: friends having breakfast together and snapping photos, couples feeding each other food with smiles on their faces, a lone man with his dog perched on the seat across from his while he worked on his computer. You briefly wonder if all of them, even the dog, have better luck with love than you do.

“I think I’m cursed,” you continue. “All of my exes have been assholes, and I’ve always been too blind to see it until it’s over and I’m left crying over Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams.”

“Maybe you’re just looking for love in the wrong places,” Jungkook shrugs, internally screaming because he’s who you should be looking at if you wanted love.

Not to toot his own horn, but Jungkook liked to think he was a good guy, a great boyfriend even. His previous track record of relationships could attest to that, all of them ending on mutual terms, still friendly and civil with each other. He’s almost certain if there was a Yelp page for him it would be at least 4.5 stars with comments raving about how great he is, even little anecdotal touches about how he always gave away his hoodies or offered to cook breakfast.

He was a god damn catch, why couldn’t you see that?

“Maybe prince charming is a lot closer than you think,” he grumbles out, stabbing his omelette with a little more force than necessary, fork clanking against the plate. And when you gasp in realization he freezes, slowly looking back up at you and seeing the way your eyes widen.

“Wait, maybe you’re right!” Your hand shoots across the table, gripping onto his forearm and it sends a shock throughout him, skin tingling at your touch. “You know that coffee shop below our building? That cute barista always puts a heart next to my name. Do you think I should ask for his number?”

Jungkook blinks once, slowly twirls his fork in his hand and blinks again before staring up at the sky, mentally asking why he couldn’t just go out and say it. “Hm, I don’t think you should.“

With a defeated sigh you retract your hand, slumping back into your seat and grabbing your iced coffee once more, stirring the straw and ice around as you nod. “True. What if he feels obligated to give it to me just because he doesn’t want to get fired in case I go all Karen on his ass.”

That wasn’t why Jungkook had said not to, but sure, that works too, so he hums along.

“I bet he draws hearts on all the other girls cups too.” You huff, playfully wiping a tear under your eye with a smile.

“I’ve actually—“

“You know what I—“

You both freeze mid sentence, Jungkook’s cheeks tinted a light pink as he stutters on his words, wide eyes staring at you as if he had caught himself before you cut him off. But as you’re about to tell him to go on, he waves you off and urges you to speak first.

“I was just gonna say that maybe I should go through that wild phase people usually go through after breakups.”

He sets his silverware down on the plate and sips his water, giving you an odd look. “Wild phase? Like you wanna dye your hair red and get bangs?”

“No,” you cackle, ruffling a hand through your own hair as you picture yourself with that combination. “I should just go out and hook up with people. I feel like I’ve either been in a relationship or entirely single, so it could be fun right?”

“Uh, maybe...” he trails off, rolling his lips together in thought, not exactly fond of hearing you say that when he had felt the confession about to roll off his tongue. He takes a slow breath, trying to see this from a neutral point, the point of a supportive friend wanting to help you get over a breakup.

“How do you go about it?”

“Me?” he chokes, pointing at his chest as if there was magically some other person you could be addressing.

“Yes, you. Need I remind you, we share a wall between our beds.” You roll your eyes, but the smile on your face shows that you’re speaking of this lightly, not entirely annoyed by the fact that you had heard Jungkook during his own fair share of hook ups.

He’s not ashamed of it, but considering he never really brought up being able to hear you, he thought you’d pretend to never hear him. It wasn’t too often that he had a girl over, the number of hookups only increasing after you got with Hajoon and loosely cut ties with Jungkook. But from what you had heard—and seen thanks to your nosey self looking through peep holes once they left—it was very rarely the same girl.

So to you, Jungkook was a pro at the art of hookups.

“Right, sorry,” he grimaces, a sheepish smile on his lips as he wonders just how many times his activities kept you up at night.

“It’s fine, consider us even.” A teasing laugh follows your statement, enjoying the flustered look on his face, how his cheeks get even darker in embarrassment. Jungkook was used to the two of you talking like this, neither of you having a filter especially when it came to sexual aspects, but he hadn’t had a conversation like this since before you got with Hajoon. It would take some getting used to again.

“So, give me the tips. Where do you find people?”

Jungkook leans back into his chair, arms stretching out on either side of him, short sleeves of his black tee bunching up and revealing more of his tattoos and the rippling of his muscles. With a small laugh he rakes his hand through his fluffy hair, giving you a small smile. “Honestly? Anywhere. I’ve gotten girl’s numbers at the gym and at coffee shops, but bars are the best bet for something quick.”

“Ugh, fuck you and your pretty privilege.”

“What?” he guffaws, smiling wide and showing you his adorable smile as he laughs loudly, not caring about the attention he draws to your table. He doesn’t even realize how the table full of girls is now trying to discreetly stare at him, because his eyes are on you. You see it though, and it further proves your point. “What the hell is pretty privilege?”

Your wild hands gesture towards him, a look of disbelief on your face as you do so. “You! Of course girls line up to hand you their number, have you seen yourself? Pretty privilege,” you jab your fork at him in time with your final words, a smirk on your glossy lips.

Jungkook feels his confidence grow at your casual compliment, tongue prodding at his cheek as he stares down at his food, trying not to smile too hard. You thought he was pretty, that was a win in his book.

“C’mon,” he teases, foot gently nudging your leg underneath the table. “You could totally score someone's number. Plus there's always apps if you just wanna test the water.”

You give your plate a contemplated stare, “Sure, how hard could it be?”

Admittedly, the answer to that question was: not hard at all. You had met all your previous boyfriends in person, through mutual friends or shared classes back in college, never once dipping your toe into the world of Tinder or Bumble. Who knew all it would take was a couple of selfies and the strategic body shot to have boys circling around you like some new-age, slightly filthier version of rapunzel.

Jungkook knew though, not at all shocked by how quickly you get a match the following day when he’s at your place. His eyes are focused on the screen in front of him, helping you beat a level in your favorite game that you had been stuck on. But the second you gasp as if you’ve won the lottery, he pauses the game entirely and gives you an odd look.

“What?”

His answer comes in the form of your phone thrusted in his direction, lit up screen displaying your profile picture and the one of the boy you had just matched with. Jung Hoseok. Jungkook’s eyes narrow as he reads the name, trying to remember it in case he somehow had a friend in common that knew all the dirt on him.

He has a similar pair of yellow shades on his own head, thicker black rims around them and a charming smile on his face. Jungkook chuckles to himself. Yellow shades? How original.

“What do I say?” you question, eyes looking nervous as you wiggle the phone in his face. The small white bar beneath your match urges you to start a conversation, and coming up with the right words to say makes you overthink it all.

“Just say hi and tack on some cute emoji. It’s not that hard,” he laughs, pushing the phone back at you. Jungkook knew you could start the message off any way you wanted and this Jung Hoseok would eat it right up. How could he not, the alluring smile in your profile photo would draw anyone in.

“Okay, I did it.” Your phone is instantly locked and chucked aside in an attempt to be forgotten, choosing to grab the remote out of Jungkook’s hands for another distraction. It only lasts a brief second before you’re killed by the boss Jungkook was trying to defeat.

“Really?” Jungkook huffs, yanking the remote back into his hands, needing a distraction himself. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you were searching for a fuck buddy while he sat beside you. How crazy would it be if he suggested being your fuck buddy, offered to help you through this so called wild phase you were searching for.

No. That’s not what he wants.

Would he enjoy it? Sure. But he could already imagine how much worse his heart would hurt if his feelings came to light and yours were non-existent. That is if you’d even agree to it.

“Relax, he’s probably thinking of what to reply.”

You make a noise of disagreement, fingers itching to unlock your device to see if it was true, slowly inching towards it until you finally grab it and go back onto the app. Jungkook just chuckles as he goes back to helping you with your game, not wanting to look at you as you giggle at your device. He could already imagine what this guy was telling you for you to turn into a giddy mess not even two minutes in.

He tunes it all out, eyes focused on the screen, fingers gripping the remote with a little more force than needed. His concentration helps him though, finally passing the level you’ve been stuck on for the past two weeks.

“You’re welcome,” he sighs, making a show of stretching out and sending you a smile, having it falter slightly when he sees your eyes still focused on the screen of your phone. With a frown he looks back at the television, saving the game before turning it off altogether.

Once he gets up from the couch, making his way over to the media console to store the remotes, is when you look up at him. “You’re right, this is easy!”

Jungkook doesn’t feel the usual pride that comes with being right, but the cheerful look on your face prevents him from feeling salty. Coming back towards the couch, he sits beside you once more, facing you as he rests his elbow on the back cushion to lean on. “Told you so.”

He keeps that same smile on his face as you mention how quick Hoseok was to ask you out on a date, even as you bring up the fact that this date would be at his place, and Jungkook could decipher netflix and chill any way some greasy boy tried to conceal it.

“I hope he knows I don’t want anything serious,” you mumble, chewing on your fingernail as you scroll through the messages.

Jungkook could almost laugh at how blissfully unaware you were of the piranha infested water that was the great sea of Tinder. Of course this yellow sunglass wearing wannabe version of him knows you don’t want anything serious, why else would he be so quick to invite you over with the cheeky excuse to watch movies.

All he can do is shrug as he stares at you, lips pressed together in an effort to not say something that would totally ruin everything. Instead, Jungkook does everything he can to be the best version of a wingman you could get. He tells you the ins and outs of hookups, how you should definitely not text him the minute you leave his place and tell him you had fun, don’t talk about anything super personal involving family or your work, and if he doesn’t offer to go down on you but expects a blowjob he’s a loser.

It’s solid advice that you mentally jot down, subjecting him to further questions your mind comes up with and even asking him for help on an outfit via text the night of your hangout with Jung Hoseok.

Jungkook stares at the photos for a little too long if he’s being honest. They weren’t spectacular selfies that you had taken much effort for, their sole purpose being showing off the outfit, but the way you look so focused as you snapped the shot had him zooming into your face and smiling like an idiot. When you double text him with a long line of question marks he snaps out of it, deciding on the second option you picked of mom jeans and a cropped shirt. Cute and casual, and definitely something Jungkook preferred, but he’d never tell you that.

When you finally text him a thumbs up and tell him you’re on your way out he just hearts the message before locking his device and trudging to the living room. It’s not often that he wallows in self pity, spacing those days out so far he barely remembers them. But they usually went exactly like this, ordering a large meat lovers pizza with extra cheese, drinking far too many Mike’s hard lemonade—because despite how much they made his stomach hurt they were tasty so he didn’t care—and binge watching his comfort show: Modern Family.

But even as he sulks on his couch, practically sinking into the cushions with horrible posture and a slice of pizza resting on his chest, he can’t find it in himself to chuckle at Cam and Mitch’s usual banter. He’s too busy thinking about which movie you’re currently watching, if you were watching it. Who’s Jungkook kidding though, you were totally getting your guts rearranged right now.

Taking an aggressive bite out of the crust he frowns and raises the volume up on his television, attempting to drown the mocking voice in his head calling him a loser for not admitting to his feelings. He knew this, knew he should have said something when he wanted to at breakfast, but Jungkook was afraid that if he confessed as you were talking about hooking up, that you’d see him as taking advantage of a situation instead of being genuine. I mean who wouldn’t? You say you want something casual and suddenly he’s spilling his heart out and you’re supposed to believe he’s not some pig trying to butter you up. He didn’t want to get labeled as a creepy neighbor after the good times you’ve had.

“So stupid,” he grumbles to himself as he takes another swig, the last drops of the alcohol hitting his tongue with a tangy aftertaste. As he sits up to place the empty bottle onto his coffee table his muscles ache, neck stiff from the unfortunate position it had been subjected to for the last three hours. With a small huff he’s rolling his shoulders, reaching for his discarded phone to see the time—and also check if you’d sent him some SOS text—but he finds nothing besides the bright numbers indicating that it was nearing midnight.

In true pity party day fashion, he doesn’t even bother cleaning up after his mess, just tossing the dirty dishes into the sink to be washed tomorrow when he would force himself to be in a better mood. Instead, he grabs a water and his phone and waddles into his bedroom.

The moonlight illuminates the space enough for him to keep the light switch off, undressing from his crumb covered sweats and shirt, choosing to remain in his boxers as he slipped under the cold duvet. The sheets feel fresh against his hot cheeks, flush from the alcohol, cooling him down and making his body relax.

Jungkook knows he should sleep, needing to be up early tomorrow for work, but he can’t stop his mind from wandering into dangerous territory. His buzzed brain has no qualms imagining exactly what you were doing right now, wondering if you’d be the type to act shy at a guy’s house for the first time, if you’d initiate the first move or not. Jungkook had only seen it up close once under the flash of strobe lights and the haze of alcohol, but he can still picture the soft smile on your face before you go in for a kiss, and he grumbles under his breath when he realizes that he wouldn’t be the one kissing you tonight.

What he doesn’t know, is that you wouldn’t be the one getting kissed tonight either. The Jung Hoseok you had perceived through Tinder, assuming he was all casual and DTF with his netflix and chill suggestion, had been anything but. What you thought would be a steamy night, ended up becoming a nice dinner and comedy watched, morphing into some version of game night where you discovered he was a little too competitive than you were used to. The only action you got was a kiss to your cheek as he walked you to your car and a promise for another date. A promise you would not be keeping.

So as Jungkook lays in bed while his thoughts turn into some fantasy of you moaning out his name, you shuffle into your bedroom and slip into your pajamas with a defeated sigh. You had already texted your best friend telling her what a bust tonight had been, deciding to just tell Jungkook all about it tomorrow because you knew he was most likely fast asleep now. And as you settle under your own covers, inches away from Jungkook with only a wall seperating you, you decide to just call it a night and pretend it never happened.

Just as you shut your eyes, nuzzling into your pillow, you hear the first moan come from behind the wall. A small cry of despair escapes you as you bury your face into your sheets, tugging them up and over your head to block the sound of Jungkook getting some action the same night you had been left high and dry. Of course he would, assuming you’d be getting the same treatment at your date's place, why wouldn’t he take advantage of your absence and not have to muffle his partner’s moans the way he usually did.

You’re just going to ignore it, until you hear a moan that sounds strangely like your own name. Maybe it's wishful thinking on your part, your horny brain deciding to pretend that Jungkook was calling for you instead of whoever he was with. It might be a little wrong for you to have that fantasy of your neighbor, but you aren’t blind. He’s hot, and adorably sweet, the perfect package for any girl he tried to swoon. And judging by the cries you’ve heard of lucky girls prior, you know he was good in bed.

You’re just desperate now. That’s the excuse you tell yourself as you slowly settle onto your back, feeling your body warm up when you focus on his muffled groans, desperate and needy. As your hand slowly slides down your shirt, you shut your eyes, biting down onto your lip to muffle any sound you could make when your fingers slip underneath your pants and past your underwear.

Jungkook on the other hand doesn’t care about his volume. His boxers are tugged down his thighs, knees bent as he slowly ruts into his sticky palm. His hand is tacky with the lube he had messily squirted on, thick cock glistening in the light coming in from his window. He can’t look away from it, mouth dropped open as he groans, imagining it was your hand tightly wrapped around him, your spit covering his cock instead of that strawberry flavored lube.

“Ah fuck,” he moans, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back onto his soft pillows when his thumb rubs along his slit. It continues to leak beads of precum, quickly wiped away to join the mess on his cock when his hand slides back down and squeezes along his base.

You hear that loud and clear, and when the female voice you’re expecting never follows, you realize he must be taking care of himself. It makes you feel a little less guilty now as your fingers trail along your slit, collecting the slick coating your folds before you softly circle your clit. A choked gasp fills the air at the small sensation, your body already wired after having expected to get some action tonight; it totally had nothing to do with your hot neighbor jacking off inches away from you.

With your eyes fluttering shut, you strain your ears to make out any other noise, muffling your own groans with a hand pressed against your mouth. The bed creaks lightly underneath you as you roll your hips into your hand, getting into a smooth rhythm that makes your body buzz.

Slowly, your imagination runs wild, and you wonder just what Jungkook was thinking of as he did this. Was he watching some porn as he did it, using his own filthy thoughts to push himself to ecstacy, or was this just something he needed to do to be able to sleep?

“Shit, so good,” he groans out, voice raspy, but you can sense his desperation through the drywall. It’s what has you sinking a single digit into your drenched entrance, biting down onto your lower lip when you feel the glide of your walls as you start to thrust into yourself, easing in another and mewling at the slight stretch.

Jungkook would absolutely give his left leg to know what your pussy felt like, he didn’t even care how disgusting he sounded by admitting that to himself, it was true. Blame it on the hard lemonade that made his stomach ache and his mind unfiltered, but he could almost visualize how you’d look above him, could practically feel the warmth of your core wrapped around him, dripping down his length as he fucked into you.

He knows you’re loud in bed, never being one to conceal your cries of pleasure and he would die happy to hear his name come out of your mouth as you creamed his cock. But for now, his hand would have to do.

His lids feel too heavy, jaw slack as the pleasure flows through his body. The wet squelch of his palm fills the room, mingling with his pants and groans, air growing thick around him. It’s been a while since Jungkook had jacked off, and even longer since he’d been able to do it shamelessly in bed without the fear of you hearing him, but now that he thought you were gone he can’t find it in himself to cover his mouth or groan into his pillows like he usually did.

The pent up frustration fogs up his mind, cranks the lust up to 11 until his free hand is gripping his sheets beside him, bed frame creaking as his thrusts speed up. The thuds of his headboard hitting the wall come from behind you, a choked moan blending in with it, and it has you scrambling for your bedside drawer.

The pajamas you wear get yanked off your legs and tossed aside after you grab your trusty vibrator, settling onto your back once more with huff. All it takes is a press of a button for the device to come to life, buzzing in your hand as you trail it up your thighs. A gasp escapes you when you pass it over your mound, brushing against your clit and sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

“Oh my god,” you whimper when you finally press the vibrating head directly onto your sensitive clit, legs spreading further apart as you increase the intensity. You could clearly hear the raise in Jungkook’s moans, and that's when the first irrational thought pops into your mind.

How easy would it be for you to head over to his place and deal with both of your problems. Surely Jungkook wouldn’t have an issue with you offering to suck his dick, wouldn’t mind letting you sink down onto him if it was just a friendly favor.

The little devil on your shoulder tells you it would be mutually beneficial, urging you to get up and walk to Jungkook’s with the vibrator still in your hand, but you can’t. This alone felt like enough of a dirty secret, a secret you’d have absolutely no problem keeping because although you feel slightly ashamed, you couldn’t deny how turned on you are.

The flashes of all the times you’ve heard Jungkook with other people play in your mind, the screams of his name that he tried to muffle, pleas for him to go faster, the resounding smack of his palm on flesh that always left you wide eyed when you heard it. And you start to wonder if maybe you’d be into that, the feeling of his large tattooed hand connecting with your ass, gently tapping against your cheek for you to open up for his cock.

That fantasy is like the first ember needed to start the fire inside of you, spreading uncontrollably until you’re bucking into your vibrator, teeth biting down on your lip to keep any potential moans of his name from slipping out.

“Fuck, fuck,” he chants, the same fire burning within him. Maybe your minds are linked telepathically, his thoughts gravitating to the same filthy fantasy you had. Jungkook was very much an ass man, knowing very well how good your butt looked in jeans from how often he stared at it, he could only imagine how good it would look as he fucked you from behind. Picturing the way it would bounce back from the force of his thrusts, eyes glued to the way you’d soak his cock, mimicking the tightness of your walls with a firm grip of his palm.

Jungkook can sense his orgasm approaching, leaves his chest feeling tight as he pants, legs gliding along his sheets for leverage to continue fucking into his hand. You’re not far off either, vibrator set to the highest setting you can practically feel your bones rattling, free hand slipped under your shirt as you pinch at your pebbled nipples. You’re both on the brink of falling over the edge, the same question playing in your mind: where would you want Jungkook to cum?

As his moans get breathier, whiny in a way you’d never imagine them to be, you mentally decide that you’d want him to cum inside of you, wanting to see the way his cute face would twist up in pleasure as he filled you up. Jungkook hopes you would, throwing all responsible thinking aside for that sweet moment of ecstasy and the mental picture is enough to finally push him over.

“Ah shit, baby,” he cries out in his room—thankfully having half the mind to not cry out your name as he came—eyes rolling back as his cock twitches in his palm, ribbons of cum splashing onto his stomach and chest. The warmth hits his skin, more droplets continuing to leak out as his palm milks his orgasm, stomach hiccuping and back arching from the stimulation.

The choked moan is what has your own orgasm washing over you, your palm slapping over your mouth so hard you know you’ll feel the ache later but you don’t care. A muffled gasp blends with the buzzing of your toy, thighs tensing up as your body tingles and writhes around on your sheets.

The only thing you can think of is Jungkook, the charming smile he’d give you when he listened to you rant about anything, his annoying habit of rolling up his sleeves to show off his muscles, the cute scowl on his face whenever you managed to beat him at Mario Kart, and the soft feeling of his alcohol coated lips on yours. It leaves you feeling warm as your orgasm flows through you, lying limp on the bed as you mewl at the sensitivity.

When you realize your thoughts have strayed from ‘pure sexy Jungkook fantasyland’, and switched over to ‘Jeon Jungkook your adorable neighbor’, your eyes go wide, finger immediately going to turn off the vibrator. In your haste to shut it off, you click the wrong button, changing the pulsing settings and nearly screaming when the device starts to buzz erratically against your overly sensitive clit.

With a strained gasp you yank it away from yourself, turn it off and throw it aside, horribly miscalculating the size of your bed and watching in horror as it lands on the floor with a loud thud. The complete silence from both sides makes the noise sound deafening, and all you can do is sit on your bed, half naked, and hope Jungkook is still too busy basking in his post orgasm bliss to hear the bang.

Although the blood is still pumping in his ears, he heard the thud clearly. His heart stops in his chest as he lays there, too scared to breathe in case he’d somehow make too much noise, suddenly afraid of being too loud after he had just made a show of himself. Jungkook slowly sits himself up, grimacing at the stickiness on his stomach before pressing his ear against his headboard to try to hear anything else.

All you want to do is yank the covers over yourself and go to sleep, pretend your horrendous date and your dirty thoughts about your friend never happened. The sobering mentality that comes after an orgasm settles into you, leaving you staring at the floor with a crease between your brows as you wonder what the hell came over you.

When Jungkook hears nothing else, he sighs in relief, hauling himself out of bed to grab another pair of underwear before entering his bathroom to clean up. As he stares at his own reflection in the mirror, he frowns at how pathetic he feels. The throbbing headache of his earlier drinks is already starting to kick in, body now sweaty from exertion, stomach covered in his cum.

“Such a loser,” he grumbles out, grabbing a wad of tissues to wipe away the mess on his skin before walking back out. Here he was, getting off to the thought of you, while you were out having your post-breakup wild phase.

His hands grab his phone as he reaches his nightstand, flopping back onto the bed and unlocking the device. It’s now one in the morning, and you still hadn’t text him, which either meant you were having the time of your life, or Jungkook had to track down this Jung Hoseok. The slightly protective side of him won’t allow him to sleep until he hears back from you, fingers already typing out a message and hitting send.

Jungkook 1:23am : you safe or am i gonna have to go all Liam Neeson on this guy?

When your phone vibrates on your nightstand you gasp, grabbing it before it could make any more noise. Seeing Jungkook’s name flash on the screen makes your blood run cold, already imagining what the text could be: calling you dirty for getting off on him, making fun of you, telling you to come ove—no stop that.

Finally mustering up the courage, you open it up, a small laugh spilling out as you read his message, relief flooding through you as you realize that meant he thought you were still with Hoseok.

Y/N 1:26am : oh yeah, you gonna show him your very particular set of skills? lol

Y/N 1:26am : i just got home though

Y/N 1:26am : like right now

Y/N 1:26am : still sitting in my living room

Y/N 1:27am : haha

He laughs at your string of texts, something you hear as he settles into bed. Jungkook ebbs away the small feeling of jealousy in his chest, trying to see the silver lining of this. You weren’t rushing to tell him anything about your date which meant it either went so good you wanted to keep it to yourself, or it was subpar and you wouldn’t be seeing this yellow sunglass wearing copycat again.

Jungkook 1:29am : glad you got home safe, goodnight y/n!

Sending back a goodnight text, you lock your phone and slide deeper into bed, pulling the sheets up to your chin as you stare at the ceiling. You already know the only thing you’ll be dreaming about is your cute neighbor with a bunny smile and body proportions that contradicted it. And as Jungkook lays in bed, wondering if he’ll have to push the crush aside, you’re barely coming to terms with the fact that the small glowing feeling that came with being around him might be something else.

Every single one of your interactions gets rewinded and played back like a seamless montage, remembering just how many almost moments there was between you. The way his eyes would flash down to your lips whenever you playfully argued on your couch, hands yanking the remotes from his in a game of tug of war that left you way too close in the heat of the moment. How he’d let you braid his hair anytime you found a new youtube tutorial, his starry eyes staring at you with so much adoration it made your stomach flip, brushing it off as love for a friend.

Then came the jokes from your friends, constantly teasing you about Jungkook, playfully saying they would try to sleep with him just because they liked the scowl on your face, and how quickly you tried to play it off. How the sweet old lady from the convenience store downstairs always assumed you were dating when you came in together, the low jab she sent when you walked in with Hajoon and she said she preferred you with Jungkook. That argument had been one of the ones that left him bolting out of your apartment with a nasty slam of the door, spewing nasty words at you, calling you blind for not seeing it and dumb for acting like you had no idea what he was talking about.

And for the first time, you come to the sudden realization that Hajoon was right. His deep set insecurities about Jungkook had stemmed from scraps of the truth, not just from him but from you too. The amount of times you’d find a way to slide Jungkook’s name into a conversation about anything, telling him funny stories about him, too lost in thought to see that while you were giggling as you reminisce, he was staring at you in disbelief.

The final thought that makes you want a blackhole to swallow you up, comes in the form of you, grabbing Jungkook’s face before planting a kiss on his unsuspecting lips at the club. You want to scream into your pillow as you recall it, how he had almost leaned back in to kiss you again before you had sobered him up with your dumb question rooted in revenge.

“Oh my god, I’m such a bitch.” you whimper. Subjecting Jungkook to be your wingman, jokingly telling him he should be your fake boyfriend more often, asking him for tips with hook ups. If everyone else could see it but you, he probably thought you were purposely friendzoning him.

The guilt piles on top of you as you start to piece together every moment that flew over your head, only making you bury yourself deeper into your sheets. It makes your heart twist, taking note of how Jungkook was always so quick to put a smile on his face despite how naive you were to it all, wondering if maybe it was too late to try to make something of this now. How many times could you call Jungkook ‘bro’ and treat him like you didn’t see him romantically, before he decided there was no hope for him anymore.

So as you force yourself to sleep, nerves and uncertainty weighing heavy on your mind, Jungkook snores away as he dreams of the almost moments that could have been.

#heartsforbts #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #bangtansorciere #bangtaninn #ficswithluv #btscreatorscorner #jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #bts smut #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #bts fics #new

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jimines · 4 years ago

Note

Whats actually happened between you and taemaknae? I read about it on the tea blog and still confused

This is an insanely long story so I'm going to put it below the cut so for anyone interested in this absolute shit show, continue on.

Essentially, I posted these headers about a month ago:

It was a set of like 8 colours and it was the first time I had ever posted any headers or anything. The issue nic had with these, was the ripped paper bottom. Because apparently you can trademark that. I had asked a (now ex) “friend” of mine if she knew where I could find the ripped paper effect because I had seen the effect on the header of her network blog and I had been trying to find a similar thing for months and google images never gave me anything good. She ended up referring me to google images anyways and after like an hour of dedicated searching, I found this ripped paper effect and used it. This ex “friend” went on to tell another friend of mine that I had "asked where nicole gets her resources for her headers" and then screenshotted my dm as "proof", which still confuses me because I never mentioned nicole there lmao. I've seen the screenshot.

Tell me where I said nicole. It was literally just a question born from seeing the header they had on their network lmao. I feel it’s important to mention I didn’t know this person ran said network at that time, which is why i said “these people”.

This other friend then came to me and just said my headers "may be seen as similar to nic's” and said she noticed it on her own and never mentioned my other “friend” approaching her. I was confused because other than that ripped paper effect that I know many people on tumblr use, I saw no similarities. Nic's headers are usually more complex and more than just a coloured background with a little effect in it. I just wanted to make some simple headers for fun because I was bored. But, regardless, I messaged nic about it to make sure she didn't feel the same way. I told her a friend of mine was worried nic might think my headers are similar to her's and I assured her that if she found them similar I would take them down, no questions asked. Nic told me she was surprised this friend brought it up and told me that it was entirely up to me if I found the headers similar. She never once told me she felt they were the same, never mentioned anything about them, she insisted it was up to me to do as I pleased. So, since I genuinely found no similarities, I left them up.

About a week went by and things between nic and I were fine, or so I thought, based off the fact that she was interacting with my posts, sending me cute asks and replying to a lot of my comments and stuff being kind and whatnot. Then, I decided to post a small list of my creations and the series I had running at the time.

After that, all of a sudden I got an influx of rude hate anons:

To anyone I mentioned the anons to, they agreed with me, you cannot trademark circular icons. This anon also accused me saying “just the fact that you had an anxiety attack about it proves you copied them” Like no sweetie, it’s called three strangers walked into my house and I got anxious.

Despite me not seeing the issue, I messaged nic, assuming she wouldn't care about the icons (it wasn't like I was taking her exact work and copying and pasting them as my own) and that made her very upset. When she responded to me, she was incredibly heated and gave off the vibe she was waiting for me to message her about it.

She said things like "this has actually been bothering me for a while", "i expected you to be able to read between the lines and delete the headers", "i don't know who that anon was but clearly they recognize my style". For starters, she never told me that she was annoyed with me, she was being very kind to me publicly. And I have no idea how I was meant to “read between the lines” of what she said especially considering how kind she was to me the following days. I also never accused her of knowing this anon, she just insisted it wasn't her and she didn't know them right off the bat. She also insinuated that I copied my gifs from others as well, which ticked me off because I made my 100+ layer psd myself thank you very much. But I kept my cool, and I told her I had no idea she felt the way she did, and I told her I would delete the headers (which i did as the conversation was going on), and that I would stop posting my icons and bringing attention to them because no one ever paid it any mind before that point. And I asked her “please tell me straight up the next time you have an issue with me because I am generally pretty dumb with social cues”, I have my adhd to thank for that. And instead of replying, she just blocked me. And conveniently, the hate anons stopped dead right after we blocked each other and I haven't received any since.

Also, these are the kinds of icons I posted:

Looks pretty generic and idk, universal, right?

Then, as I've recently found out today, she was in an "anti-loverjimin" groupchat with at least 2 other bloggers.

Which explains why this all went and fell into place. I know who the two other bloggers are because of what happened two days later but I won't name them just yet, but these two people had been "friends" with me for several months. So, a day or two after nic blocked me, all of a sudden some good friends of mine were blocking me and not talking to me when I asked what was going on. I found out soon after it was because nicole and those two now ex “friends” of mine had taken old dms I sent them and were showing them to people. And I will go into detail about them but I won't name the people they are about for privacy reasons.

Before I move on, to clarify some lies nic has been spreading about me, I never once shit talked nicole to my friends. One of these ex friends also said I was trying to get people on my side. I would have reacted to this all very very differently if that were the case. I would be dragging everyone through the fucking dirt but I don't get off on drama or micromanaging what my mutuals do. My issues are with these people, if you're still friends with them that's your decision i could not care less. So, back to it, the only thing I said about nic was that she and I had a stupid small fight over icons and that she was spreading lies about me, based off of what nic said to jordan.

That exact message, or slight variations of it, was sent to anyone I interacted with because I didn't know if nic was going to stop at jordan or try and get to everyone I fucking knew lmao. Some of the people I messaged this to told ME nic had done this kind of thing before, that she has sent hate anons, launched hate campaigns, cancelled people, etc. Over stupid shit like icons lmao.

Here are some responses I received after I mentioned nicole:

And nic or one of her friends also took it upon themselves to send anons to that tea blog to blow shit up and named everyone and made it an even bigger mess when they saw no one was actively trying to fight me after the dms got out.

I also love that in this following ask, they named my two “friends” that were behind the whole dm drama and backstabbed me, as well as two other people I never badmouthed, that story was twisted. But we’ll get into those details shortly.

And she also told people I clout chased big blogs and only cared about notes. At one point, yes, I did care a lot about my statistics. However, never once did I think clout chasing was worth my fucking time or energy, Nic is the biggest clout chaser on this damn site and there are receipts of that, ask jordan lmao. And I couldn’t give two shits about my statistics anymore lmao, much less anxiety that way. Do I still crave validation sometimes? Sure. But it's not a driving force of my tumblr experience like it used to be.

But, moving on to the dms, the first one was sent when I first came back to tumblr full-time and didn't understand why people self reblogged things, I found the pretence of self reblogging annoying and greedy and I complained about it and it was a comment fuelled by two bloggers that i would see sr a lot on my dash. But I never thought THEY were annoying, as these people are saying I did, it was self reblogging I found annoying and as you can see I have come to understand why people sr and I do it myself too. I didn't even know these two bloggers at this time either. That dm was cropped to hide the fact that this "friend" agreed with me and hid the date as well so it seemed recent, and was sent to one of the bloggers I mentioned as an example, someone I had since become good friends with.

I didn’t befriend one of the people I mentioned there until mid to late June. That friendship is now over thanks to this drama and all the lies. The second friend of mine they went after was never spoken about in dms, they went and turned her against me through lies and manipulation so that friendship has ended too. And while those two were doing that, nic went off to try and turn jordan against me.

There was a particular user on here that I did say some nasty things about but we weren't friends, as many people have been made to believe. I was particularly mad at this person in those dms and was hurtful, I admit, and I have since apologized and owned up to all of it to these people. I did call them fake and/or two-faced.

And what in the gassing me up bullshit was their response though lmao. I also sent this following dm before I even talked about the issue with this person. They urged me to continue and to name drop the person, and I stupidly thought they were trustworthy.

My reasoning for what I said wasn't unwarranted though, I don't make a habit of going around shit-talking people, unless they do something to me first. I vent when I am upset and this person had sent me a passive aggressive ask and then denied sending it when I asked and I thought that was just very fake, especially since she was so kind to me in dms before the ask came in. But all of these dms were cropped too to hide timestamps and responses, and in most cases, like those screenshots prove, these "friends" either gassed me up or egged me on to continue ranting or to name the people i was mad at and they had agreed with me on several, several occasions. Turns out they were trying to get dirt on me to use in their cancel campaign. But the point is, nic has made me out to be this horrible person that befriends "big blogs" (an overrated statement) and then shit talks them behind their back without remorse. Yet it was one person I said rude things about and I, again, owned up to it all and apologized to them the first day. I would've done it sooner had I a) remembered feeling the way I did all those months ago or remembered the dms themselves or b) felt that way still after meeting them. But neither is the case.

I find it really amusing though that these people wanted things to be kept quiet and didn’t want anyone they spoke to to talk to me about it because I was going to “out them on my blog” and “make a big scene”, then they three went and made it a big fucking scene and ruined my friendships. I’m familiar with this pattern of manipulation as it has happened to me in real life before and it’s the most childish bullshit to witness.

Before this callout day for nic, I had never once been directly rude to or about her, same goes for those ex “friends” that betrayed my trust and friendship. The fact that they plotted against me in a group chat while still actively talking to me and being all buddy buddy is just disgusting. Both of them were talking to me that day at the same time they were sharing the dms and shit-talking me to my friends. But yeah, that's my side, the untwisted side, of the whole story. I tried to be mature and talk to nic and when I didn't do what she wanted me to do, she blocked me and launched the hate campaign with dms and the power of photoshop. I’ve been hesitant to make any of this public because it was meant to be a silent ordeal but I’ve grown tired of her constantly publicizing everything without consequence while I remain silent like I promised.

#anon #replied💌#tw:negativity #drama #long post #read at your own risk aha #its a shit show #idc if you rb it #pinning temporarily for the next day(sih)#ish*#edited with screenshots and whatnot that i forgot i had on my phone lmao

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nakamoto-aesthetics · 4 years ago

Text

Guardian Angel | Johnny

synopsis: on the way from a friends house you bump into a man who was trying to harm you but luckily a guy named johnny saves you before you were taken. from there you get to know him a bit and things get… interesting. (the synopsis makes the story sound boing but i promise it’s not :)

pairing: johnny suh x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, a lil smut

warning: something similar to human trafficking in the beginning (if you’re sensitive to that topic please don’t read this fic), heavy make out shesh, not proofread!, other than that there’s nothing i can think of

a/n: also remember that this is a FIC and not real life, please don’t welcome strangers into your home :))

word count: 4.1k

“where do you think you’re going in that cute little dress baby?” an unfamiliar voice is heard as you walk down the fairly dark street. you don’t say anything and continue to walk not paying any attention to the voice. there was no one else really around, barely any cars passing by, let alone people.

“I asked you a question, I expect an answer” the tone was firm, his footsteps getting faster and so do yours. you hurriedly pull out your phone, quickly forming a plan that involved some of your friends but that all crashed and burned once you saw the dead battery flashing on the screen. your heart sink and tears instantly pooled in your eyes, threatening to fall from your eyes. that was your only escape, what were you gonna do now?

you were just trying to get home that was all. maybe you should’ve let your friend drive you home but you didn’t because you didn’t want to cause your friend an inconvenience. you were beginning to regret that decision, all because of that small reason. at least you would’ve been home safe and sound but no, you decided to be the unselfish and independent person you are, and look where it got you.

“hey!” a hand grips your shoulder from behind and swings you around. “I asked you a question when I ask a question I expect an answer” the guy wasn’t a foreigner, he was most definitely korean. he seemed to be in his mid-30s, the age definitely showed. there were creases and wrinkles in some areas of his face and his clothes were all black including his shoes. you try to pull away from the grip but he only grips your shoulder harder, hurting you more than you would like to admit.

“maybe I need to refresh your short memory,” the guy chuckles lowly, his finger shifting your head up to meet his eyes. “where are you going in that cute little dress?” his eyes looked you up and down, his free hand gliding down your waist, slowly traveling to your ass. your face stayed straight the entire time even while tears fell down your face. you knew who had the upper hand power in the situation, you knew there was little you could do even if you didn’t dare say it aloud.

“still not talking? well maybe I should force it out of you huh?” he tilts his head. no, because the whole time you were creating a plan b in your head since plan a failed. there was no way you were going to allow yourself to be trafficked.

“well then, you made this choice for yourself. i’m sorry to do this sweetheart” his hands grope your ass and that's when you strike. you move your leg up to kick him in the balls but he’s faster than you, grabbing ahold of your leg before it collided with his area.

“is that what you were doing this whole time, creating that wack-ass plan? you didn’t think i’d see it coming that’s so cute,” he fake coos. “i’ve been doing this longer than you, i’m smarter and faster than you love” he throws down your leg and in the blink of an eye, you are turned around in his grip with an arm around your neck. your hand flies to his arm and you pull on it, not wanting to be choked to death.

“is there a problem over here miss?” another unfamiliar voice calls, making both you and the guy look over to where it came from. it was a tall guy with light brown hair. he had tan skin and different pieces of clothing put together that oddly worked. his eyes were a soft brown, not too harsh. he was… kinda cute if you were being honest. he was also In the process of taking his headphones out of his ears, for what reason? you didn’t know.

“there’s no problem here, keep on walking buddy” the male answered for you.

“I asked the lady not you” the new stranger spoke harshly to the trafficker and look at you once again. “are you okay?” he knitted his eyebrows. your eyes caught his, filling with tears, threatening to spill from your eyes. he nodded softly understanding how you were feeling through your eyes. he then looked at the male behind you.

“let her go, I don’t wanna hurt you” he said firmly.

“oh yeah, what can you do?” he looks him up and down and laughs at the guy, walking back to his original place, which was a block or two away.

“Im can do a lot” the stranger walks in front of you and the guy, making you both stop once again.

“listen man, this is my girlfriend. we’re just having a little disagreement aren’t we honey?” the guy tightens his hold around your neck. you open your mouth trying to suck in more air but his hold gets tighter. you tap on his arm in hopes that he’ll release you but he doesn’t. there was no way you were gonna agree with him.

the stranger doesn’t think furthermore and before either of you knew it, your head was being moved out the way carefully and a punch was thrown at the guy's face. you heard a crack of a bone and quickly moved away from the area, running out the man's hold.

it was like an action movie, the man was the villain and the stranger was the hero, and you were the one in need of help. the fight ended with the stranger still standing and the man now on the floor. he wasn’t moving but his chest was still rising and falling. he wasn’t dead although you weren’t sure what was gonna happen in the next few minutes but you weren’t gonna find out either.

“are you okay?” the stranger rushes over to you, sliding off his jacket and handing it to you.

“that won’t be necessary” you chuckle and wave your hand at his jacket.

“please, I insist” he places the jacket around you, not wanted to make you feel uncomfortable by touching you.

“thank you” you look down and smile softly.

“it’s no problem, I could never just walk by if I saw something like that” he smiles gently. “do you want me to walk you home? you know, to make sure you get there safe?”

“uhh… why not” you smile and begin to walk in the direction, he comes up beside you and walks along with you.

you pulled his jacket closer to your body for warmth as you kept your eyes glued to the sidewalk, scarred by what had just happened. you’ve never experienced something that traumatic before. you could’ve been snatched up a while ago if it hadn’t been for the guy walking beside you right now.

“thank you” your voice was quiet in a way it had never been before.

“anytime” he glances over to you, seeing your small frame wrapped in his jacket.

“I really do mean it, if you wouldn’t have been there I don’t know what I would've done”

“yeah, i’m glad I was there too. it hurts me to see things like that happen” he shakes his head. “I wish I could protect everyone around the world,” he breathily laughs. “that’s probably why I want to be a police officer” your ears perked up when you heard that. you looked up at him with surprised eyes and he looked at you nodding his head.

“it’s always been a dream of mine ever since I was a kid. when I read my first comic book I loved everything about it, I knew I wanted to be some kind of hero after that. I wanted my parents to buy me every single superhero costume so then I could feel like that character, with all the powers and stuff.” you breathily laugh at that, he notices and laughs with you. “anyways that’s enough about me, I wanna know about you” he looks attentively to you.

the conversation continues until you got home. you learned that his name was johnny and that he was 25. he grew up in his hometown chicago but his parents are both korean, and he moved to seoul for better job opportunities. you gotta admit, the guy was interesting and you wanted to know more about him, you thought he was pretty cool.

“so… this is it?” johnny stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks up at the house.

“yep” you look at the house and back to him. it got quiet for a few seconds, neither of you wanted to say bye to each other. johnny wanted to get to know you more and you wanted to know him more also.

“listen, I don’t know if the feeling is mutual but I wanna talk to you some more so how about this, I give my number and you get to choose if you want to text me” he offers and you instantly take it up. he smiles softly and enters his number in your phone. once you receive it back you see the name option blank.

“you’re not gonna name yourself?” you cock your eyebrow at him and he lightheartedly chuckles.

“I want you to have free will and set it as whatever you want. I want you to always feel like you have a choice when you're with me y/n” a smile was blatant on his face, allowing the corners of your mouth to pull up also.

“well thank you very much johnny,” you say, staring into his eyes, which seemed to catch the light from the streetlights in a way you’d never seen before. would it be weird to say that you wanted to get to know the sweet guy in front of you more?

“um.. i guess i should get going, it was nice meeting you y/n” his hypnotizing but kind eyes still staring into your soul. you never wanted to part away from them, from him. johnny was captivating, too captivating to let slip through your fingers.

“it was nice meeting you too. see you later johnny” you dismiss him yet his feet don’t move, they stay in place and so does he, looking at you with eyes of fondness. this continues for about a minute before you break the silence/slight sexual tension.

“uh- actually, do you wanna come in? i’m not going to sleep right away, honestly might have some trouble falling asleep” you shake your head, looking down and pretend to find your nails interesting.

“a-are you sure? i wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable-” he seems caught off guard by your words, obviously snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.

“not at all, now come on. i’ll put on a movie and get some food and drinks. it’ll be good” you smile brightly, grabbing his hand without thinking and taking him up to your front door. you unlock it quickly and turn on the lights, stepping into your clean house.

“this is a very nice environment you have y/n” he looks around staying still in his place, nodding his head, seeming genuinely impressed with it.

“thank you, it took a bit of work to get to this point” you chuckle, taking off your shoes and then his jacket. “oh, here you go” you hold the piece of heavy fabric out to him. he utters a ‘thanks’ once he sees it and takes it.

“you can put your shoes there” you point to the shoe rack beside to door. “and your jacket can go there” you point to the coat racket right next to the shoe rack. he doesn’t say anything and does as you say.

“now make yourself comfortable i’ll be right back” you point to the couch and then walk away but not before you caught his eyes. damn those eyes..

“now why did she do that? i swear horror movie characters are so fucking dumb” you roll your eyes and johnny laughs, agreeing with you.

“i mean what would you do in her position” you look at him. the light from the tv illuminating him perfectly. it was dark everywhere else so the only light you had was from the tv.

“i would’ve saved the friend and then booked it not stand there like an idiot waiting for someone to kill me” he looked at you right back, giving you that same look from earlier but his eyes were a bit brighter, filled with joy.

“exactly! so why can’t she do the same?” you sigh.

“y/n it’s just a movie” he chuckles.

“i know, i know but they really irritate me yk? like why stand there knowing damn well a killer is in the house with you i mean it’s-“

“alright it’s time to turn this off” he backs out of the movie, returning to the netflix screen where you started.

“hey!” you look at him with confused eyes.

“you were way too into it, it‘s not good for your blood pressure.” he says and looks at the tv, going through the comedy section.

you kept your eyes on him watching the way his eyes watch the screen attentively. you nibble on your lip, beginning to get lost in your thoughts. he could be your friend, best friend, boyfriend... husband- too far y/n, too far. you just met the guy but you felt like you’ve known him for a long time. you could see him being a potential boyfriend honestly. it’s been a while since you’ve had a boyfriend, really only focused on work. it wouldn’t be a bad idea. johnny seemed nice and he was interesting in a way nobody has been before, you could stay up talking to him and it wouldn’t get boring ever. what if you guys-

“y/n?” his head turns toward you and he catches you staring back at him with your lip between your teeth. he smiles softly and that’s when you are dragged out of your thoughts.

“here” you say out of nowhere making johnny laugh harder than before, his head is thrown back and his eyes are closed, filling the atmosphere with his beautiful laughs. meanwhile, you sat there a little confused and startled, blinking multiple times.

“huh?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“nothing” he waves his hands continuing to laugh.

“yah!” you hit his arm playfully. “i was lost in my thoughts im sorry” you look down feeling your cheeks heat up.

“while staring at me? what were you thinking about?” he says after his laughter dies down.

“uh.. nothing important, what did you pick?” you look at the tv trying to change the subject and you’re thankful that it works.

“that was a great movie, what’d you think?” johnny looks over to you and you nod tiredly, letting out a yawn. “oh somebody’s tired” he says and you don’t know if it was because you were tired but you thought it was cute.

“i enjoyed it and yes i am tired” you lazily chuckle and rub your face.

“alright, i’ll leave-“ he goes to stand up.

“no-“ you say abruptly and grab his wrist and his eyes shift down to your hold on him. “i mean… no you don’t have to, it’s late and i don’t want you going home at this time of night” you checked your phone with your free hand, completely forgetting about your grip on his wrist.

‘4:08 am’

“damn it’s four already?” your eyes bulge out your head and look up at him, his eyes still watching the way your skin was touching his. “you mister aren’t going anywhere, wouldn’t want anything to happen to you” you move closer to him and he notices this. you take your hand off his wrist and interlock your arms, resting your head on his shoulder. maybe it was the sleepiness that put you in this position but you didn’t mind it one bit, too tired to care.

he seemed surprised tensing up almost immediately but relaxing once he realized what was really happening. you were like the little bear that found comfort in the big bear. johnny brushed the extra pieces of hair out the way, how was it that he’d just met you but he felt so connected to you as if you were a lifelong friend he hadn’t seen in a long time. he didn’t under but at the same time, he didn’t want to understand it. he’d rather just let whatever this was flow at its own pace.

“do you think we’re moving too fast?” you say out of nowhere, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“i was just thinking about that and i think we should just let it happen naturally. whatever happens, happens” he says in a sweet voice and caresses your arm gently with his free hand. “if it feels right then act on it right? anyways, that’s the motto”

you move your head to look up at him and nod, intending to catch his eyes and you do. you’re only inches away from each other’s faces, eyes shifting from his eyes to his lips and so do his before either of you knew it your lips collided. johnny holding your jaw between his index and thumb. you wrap your hands around his neck and sit up slowly shifting onto his lap. your heart began to race as you kissed him deeper, johnny too, feeling his heart pumping with adrenaline, moving his hands down to your waist and gripping it. you moan softly against his lips as his hands travel inside your shirt. he felt like pure ecstasy against you. his touch, his lips, his words, everything him felt so good with you.

his hands then slid down to your hips and he gripped them, continuing to kiss you like no tomorrow. he pulls away from your lips, you following his lips for more, and he chuckles; before you knew it his lips were on your neck, pressing soft kisses to it making you moan softly. when his lips found your sweet spot he attacked it, leaving a dark red hickey in that place. you began to move your hips against his, hungry for some type of stimulation down there. his hands fly to your hips and he rests his head in the crook of your neck, letting out soft grunts.

you bite your lip and pull him up to kiss his neck, one of his hands rest on your shoulder. once you find his sweet spot you do as he did and leave a dark red hickey. you pull back and look at it proudly.

“an eye for an eye” you wink at him.

“yeah, yeah” he smiles and pulls your face closer, kissing you again, this time using a bit of tongue. you moan instantly, letting him win and he explores your mouth as your hands glide down his chest, you could feel all of the contours and lines of his muscles and abs, letting you know he was fit. which only made him sexier. your hands slip under his shirt and you explore the area. he was too hot for you to handle, you could pounce on him again even though you kind of already pounced on him. he’s just too hot.

you pulled away abruptly and he looked at you with a confused expression. you smirked and stood up, him still looking at you, obviously confused. he reached for your wrist but you pulled it away and before he could say anything, with the help of his thighs you got on your knees. his confused expression was now gone as he watched the scene unfold, his jeans were so tight against him and you knew that. his hard-on wasn’t small either, it was actually pretty big, you could still see his print though it was dark and you wanted to help him out so you teased him by gliding your fingers up his thighs and then teased his dick by running your finger up and down his hard-on.

“stop t-teasing” he breathily moans, watching your every move.

you smirked, looking up at him and unzipped his jeans.

did you guys fuck? no. just oral sex, that was all you guys agreed to. johnny thought it would be a bad idea to have sex during the initial meet. he said it would be best to give it at least a few weeks. he truly did wanna get to know you some more as did you and that’s why you were okay with not going that far.

you slept in your room after you guys were done giving each other head. you’d given him a blanket to sleep with and a comfortable pillow instead of making him use one of the uncomfortable decor ones on your couch.

“thank you johnny,” you said as he grabbed his coat. you let him stay for breakfast, that you and him cooked together. (he wasn’t going to let you cook it by yourself)

“for what? i should be thanking you. i had fun” he says as he puts his coat on.

“because i had fun too. the most i’ve had in a long time so thank you for that”

“it’s nothing really, i’m glad i could reflect some light on” he laughs and slips his shoes on.

“i hope we could do that again” you hint your fondness toward him.

“of course we can you just gotta let me know. i’m always free” he looks at you with that look once again and you can’t help but let it slip out.

“why do you keep looking at me like that, you’ve been giving me the same look since you met me” you say softly so then it doesn’t one out harsh and you know it doesn’t when he responds.

“because...” he moves closer to you which makes your heart skip a beat. “i actually like you y/n, and i mean it. you’re so different from other girls i’ve met. i’m not just another handsome guy to you. you take an interest in the things i say and the stories i tell you, not many girls do and i thank you for that alone. thank you for listening to me.” he moves even closer to you, grabbing your hands which makes your heart begin to race. “so when i look at you like this, i’m thanking you.” he doesn’t say anything after that continuing to stare deeply into your eyes.

you felt so drunk in the moment, hypnotized by his eyes and soft words. you could already feel how head over heels you were gonna be for this guy, that's if you guys kept it up, which you think you will. the chemistry was way too strong for either of you to let go of.

“thank you” you whisper and he nods gently not breaking eye contact. “you should get going, i wouldn’t want you to be late for work. you still gotta get home in time to change out of these clothes... do you need a ride or?”

“kind of... only if it’s not too much trouble” he answers.

“of course it’s not, come on” you quickly get your stuff on and take him home.

“this is it” he says and you stop the car once you’re in front of the house.

“okay, i’ll see you later” you look over to him and he’s already looking at you. nothing happens for a few seconds but then johnny leans over to you and kisses you. you sigh into the kiss and grab ahold of his neck and kiss him back as his hand rests on your neck, he kisses you just as deep as last night but before anything serious happens he pulls away and lets a ‘text me’ roll of his tongue before he exits the vehicle and walks to his front door, unlocking it and walking inside. all without looking back.

you however, were in complete awe. he kissed you like that and then left. damn was he a good kisser, you could still feel the sensation of his lips on yours even after he was gone. you touched your lips and then smiled, pulling off.

bonus: later that day; the evening

you decide to pick up your phone and do exactly what he said earlier.

you: what was that all about earlier? - y/n

johnny🥰😫: so you decided to finally text me😊

johnny🥰😫: and what was what about👀

you: you know what i talking about. the kiss in the car

johnny🥰😫: you know, it was just a see you later kiss

you: mhm, okay mr. suh

johnny🥰😫: what?😂

you: imma give your ass a ‘see you later’ kiss and then walk away. see how it makes you feel

johnny🥰😫: bring it on then sexy, let’s see what you got

you: oh i’ll show you what i got👀

johnny🥰😫: are we still talking about kissing?😳

you: maybe, maybe not🤷‍♀️👀

NCT Masterlist

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spencers-renaissance · 5 years ago

Text

Mayhem

Summary: Imagine that scene in S4E1 when Derek is driving the ambulance loaded with a bomb about to explode, except it's Spencer on the other end of the phone and they finally get their shit together.

Tags: canon divergence, spencer is the tech analyst, death-bed love confessions, getting together, mutual pining, insecure spencer, angst with a happy ending, fluff

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 4.2k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

A Gift For: @habs252117 — anybody can request fics in my ask box :)

A quick recap as this follows S4E1 which is technically a follow-on from the last ep of S3:

The BAU was called to the NY field office to investigate a series of random shootings in the city, often on subways and shit. They realise that this is actually a terror cell practicing for their big attack, and as this fic starts, they believe that the shootings were all in locations they planned to bomb in order to test 911 response times. Kate Joyner is Hotch's old friend, the blonde English one from Scotland Yard and Lisa is Lisa Bartleby, the NY field office tech analyst assigned to help Penelope in the show, Spencer in the fic.

The case had been stressful enough from the beginning. Spencer doesn’t often get to join the team in the field, usually staying in his computer den back in Quantico, so he’d initially been quite excited: he’d get to spend more time with Derek, plus visit New York, which he’s always had a strange sort of affinity for, as well as see his team in action. But then he’s working with equipment that isn’t his and they slowly piece together just how complicated this terrorism ring is and things seem more… bleak rather than exciting.

They’d all been starting to make their way back to the hotel when the news of the bombing hit the networks, and Spencer’s heart is in his mouth as he rushes back to his post, meeting Lisa Bartleby with harried nods of acknowledgement. Almost as soon as he’s settled at his desk the phone starts ringing.

“Spencer,” Rossi greets as soon as he picks up, “you’ve seen the news?”

“Yes, I— do you know where anyone is? What should I do?” he asks, feeling the panic settle on his chest, his stomach clenching in fear he doesn’t dare try and address.

“I’m here with Penelope, she’ll handle the media,” Rossi says, and Spencer realises that he can hear her low, steady voice she always employs in moments of extreme stress in the background of the call. “I need you to call homeland security and direct them to every site of the recent shootings. Tell them to pour troops in. If our profile is right we’re looking at eight suicide bombers who are about to hit every one of those locations.”

“Actually, if we’re correct, there’ll be sixteen suicide bombers,” Spencer realises with a start. “We predicted they’ll hit the second wave of first responders, too.”

Their conversation is interrupted by the news reporting that the bomb was inside a black SUV near the Federal Plaza and Spencer is pretty sure his entire body stops for a moment: cells stop replicating, blood stops flowing, hair and nails stop growing. This is his family. And he doesn’t know where any of them are, spread across an unfamiliar, dangerous city.

“Right, Spencer, do you have eyes on the Plaza?” Rossi asks, controlled urgency colouring his voice as he tries to keep himself and everyone else as calm as possible.

“Uh— yes, I’ve got like three hundred cameras there,” he says, glancing at Lisa, the NY field office’s contribution to his technological complex, as they jump into action, “give me a minute.”

“I’m here with Penelope, but I don’t know where anyone else is,” Rossi says, and for the first time Spencer can hear the panic rising in his voice. It’s quickly suppressed, but it’s there, and it does nothing to help him calm down. “Find them.”

He instructs Lisa to find every camera feed 20 blocks out concentrically from 26 Federal Plaza before fiddling with his headset, taking a deep breath, and, naturally, trying Derek first. His name has been circling round Spencer’s head like a prayer ever since they heard that it was potentially one of their own hit by the bomb, and the knot in his chest starts to unravel when he picks up the phone.

“Yeah, I’m still here,” Derek says, sounding impatient and stressed, but Spencer doesn’t mind. He’s alive. He’s okay.

“Thank God,” Spencer breathes. He keeps him on the line while he tries Emily, who sounds just as anxious when she picks up. He doesn’t mind though, he’s keeping a tally of everyone he knows is safe and it’s the only thing making him any less panicked. When JJ doesn’t pick up, the knot tightens a little and he tries to ignore the little string of ‘no no no’s dancing through his mind.

He hears Emily’s distressed exhale and closes his eyes for a second before forcing himself to get his head back in the game. The phone goes dead mid-JJ’s voicemail message, and then Emily drops off the call, Derek following, and that’s it. He’s lost contact with his team, JJ and Hotch still unaccounted for. Before he can actually lose his head, Lisa is calling him over, and he finally has eyes on the bombing.

He has to watch the man he sees as a father projected through the air by the blast from the bomb, and all he can hear for a solid five seconds is the fear buzzing in the static electricity around his ear.

⭐️

Derek arrives at the site of the explosion riled up in a way he hasn’t been for a long time, his only consolation being that he knows Spencer is safe. God, you can definitely count on working a terrorist attack in New York City to accentuate your crippling crush on a coworker; a subtle burn has settled itself across Derek’s chest, the urge to hold and protect Spencer far too distracting for the circumstances.

He reports immediately to Captain Warner but before he’s even able to identify himself, he hears Hotch shouting desperately for help and he slips immediately into rescue mode.

“Hey! This area’s restricted,” an ESU shouts at him, as soon as he dashes for the barrier, and he forces the blinding anger flaring in his stomach to simmer down as he turns to the Captain again.

“That’s my boss down there,” he shouts, making himself as intimidating as possible.

“I have my orders,” the Captain replies simply, eyes hard and unrelenting.

“I don’t give a damn what your orders are.” He’s finding it increasingly hard to restrain his anger as he hears Hotch shout again, turning to look hopelessly down the road at him.

“Look, I get it agent,” Warner attempts to placate him, “but we’ve been told by you that responders are the targets. So until the blast site is cleared, no-one goes in.”

Derek spins around to face him again. “You’re Marine Corps, right?” By the look on Warner’s face, he’s found his way in. ��Right?”

“Please, go back to the marshaling point,” he replies, the fight draining out of him.

“I’m not doing it,” Derek yells stubbornly, furiously. “I’m not just gonna let my man lay down there like that.” Conveniently, Hotch’s miserable call comes down the road again and Derek meets the Captain’s eyes with a hard gaze. “Never leave a man behind. You do remember that, don’t you?”

“Help us!” Hotch screams again. “We’re here! Please!”

Derek glares at the Captain, and sprints as fast as he can towards Hotch as soon as he nods his okay. His boss is clearly disoriented and in a state of obvious distress but he doesn’t look terribly injured. Kate, on the other hand, is clearly a different story, and any hope Derek has for her survival melts away as Hotch explains her arterial bleed and he has to tell him that they can’t expect an ambulance any time soon. He tries to tell the kid crouching down by Kate to leave, but he seems reluctant.

Derek doesn’t have the headspace to analyse why until he’s finally got him to run off and Spencer’s ringing him to tell him that he’s the bomber.

⭐️

As soon as Spencer hears Derek run off after the bomber he feels his stress levels rising again. If Derek dies before Spencer finally works up the courage to tell him that he’s in love with him, he’ll never forgive himself for being such a coward, and he’ll never forgive Derek for leaving him.

Immediately, he patches into the marshaling point and tells the rest of them, who have only just all reunited, what’s going on.

“The bomb,” he explains, talking as fast as he can, “it was under Kate’s SUV. Hotch is out there with her, he seems okay but Kate is really hurt; they haven’t been able to move her.”

“Where was her SUV parked?” Rossi asks as they all gather around the computer.

“Two blocks east of Federal Plaza.”

“Two blocks east and they target Kate’s SUV?” He sounds incredulous. “Have you identified the bomber?”

“Lisa’s running him through VICAP,” he says, but shrugs hopelessly. He knows it’s a lost cause.

“Call Homeland Security,” Rossi instructs Penelope. “They should be at all the murder sites. See if they found anything.” She nods and stalks away on her heels, still managing to stay cool under pressure. Spencer would envy her, but he knows it’s only an external front, only a mask she has to wear out of complete and utter necessity.

“Okay, okay, but Morgan,” Spencer says, feeling more impatient and stressed than before, “he’s run after the bomber.”

“He’s run after the bomber?” JJ asks, bewildered. “Why?”

“He was at the bomb site,” he replies. “I’m trying to trace him on the city's CCTV network, but the feeds are grainy at best and completely severed at worst.” This is feeling more and more hopeless by the second, and the light at the end of the tunnel is only dimming.

“Keep trying,” Rossi says, and then he’s turning to the rest of the team.

Spencer takes a few calming breaths and focuses back on the computer in front of him. Find Derek, he thinks. Find Derek and, when this case is over, stop being a coward and tell him how hopelessly in love with him you are. The pool of dread and fear weighing his stomach down only seems to deepen as he searches relentlessly through the CCTV feeds he can access, looking for Derek and the bomber chasing through the streets of the city. Eventually, he finds him and follows his movements down to the subway station. He watches with baited breath as Derek looks around the empty platform, clearly shouting to the unsub, though Spencer can’t hear what he’s saying. He speeds up the feed, seeing as it’s delayed slightly and fast forwards to Derek entering the tunnel, his sense of dread only intensifying as he loses visual.

Trying desperately not to panic, he fast-forwards until he’s watching in real time, but Derek still hasn’t emerged, and neither has the bomber, both still hiding in the secrecy of the depths of the city’s transport network. There’s a vague spark of light — which he later finds out was the bomber electrocuting himself on an exposed part of the railway — only barely visible on the poor quality of the camera feed, before Derek emerges, looking rattled but very much alive.

He doesn’t have much time to celebrate Derek’s livelihood, however, because JJ and Penelope are patching him back through to their conversation.

“Spencer, Homeland Security has poured tactical teams into all the locations on the geo-profile — SWAT, bomb techs, HRT, hazmat, the works — they found nothing,” Penelope says, clearly puzzled and frustrated.

JJ’s about to reply when something catches her eye. “Yeah, all except one,” she says. “Kate’s SUV — none of the shootings were near it.”

“Maybe it’s personal,” Penelope muses. “I mean, this death card they gave us; they delivered on it.”

“No,” Spencer jumps in, realising what JJ’s getting at, “that’s just it — they haven’t. A cell as large as this one and multiple targets to choose from, they target a single SUV?”

“It’s a diversion,” JJ says, “Everything that’s happened so far has appeared to be something it’s not. The seemingly random acts of violence, Emily’s suicide by cop to make us believe it’s all over. Hotch and Kate as an endgame; they want us to think this is over. They’ve deliberately skewed our profile to make us believe they would be at the sites of the shooting.”

“You’re right. That was memorable” Rossi says, finally chiming in as he gestures to a picture of the twin towers on the wall. “This is not. There’s something else.”

⭐️

As soon as Derek manages to calm Hotch down, he summons the rest of the team to St Barclay’s and for the first time since the bomb went off under Kate’s SUV, the team is back together again.

“Are you okay?” Emily asks Hotch as soon as the team walks into the hospital. He’s scratched and bruised all over, visibly shaken, and clearly in a lot of pain but, Hotch being Hotch, he’s stubbornly refusing to accept the necessary medical attention and probably just wants to see the back of this whole ordeal, not unlike the rest of them.

“I’m fine,” he says, clearly not fine at all but shouldering his jacket on anyway. “I just want to understand why I’m still alive. Did you identify Sam, the bomber?”

“Spencer put Sam and the other dead unsub into every known database,” Penelope offers. “Nothing.” At the mention of Spencer, Derek feels his heart clench in his chest. God, Spencer’s intelligence is so attractive to him, even though he knows it’s something his pretty boy can be so unreasonably insecure about it. He can’t wait to see the end of this night and touch him, reassure his aching, restless heart that he’s safe, alive, protected.

Once again, he thinks cynically, nothing like a terrorist attack to leave him on the brink of finally telling Spencer how he feels.

They quickly get back on topic, deducing as a team the terror cell’s real endgame: they’ll use a single chemical bomb planted in the ambulance. If Sam wasn’t calling 911 every few minutes but a number that went dead minutes after he died, then there’s only one reason he stayed with Hotch and Kate. To make sure the ambulance got to them. The ambulance they drove into a hospital, with the paramedic’s help, housing someone important enough to have the Secret Service protecting them.

Derek doesn’t think. He runs.

“Spencer?” he says, into his ear piece as he runs down the stairs, refusing to let fear come to the surface. “I need you to jam the frequencies in this cell block for as long as possible, okay?”

“What’s going on?” Spencer asks, clearly concerned, but Derek can hear him already tapping away at his computer.

“Just,” Derek pauses, takes a second to feel, process, and then suppress his panic, “just… I need you to do this for me, alright, pretty boy.”

“I’m already on it.” Spencer sounds exactly he does: carefully, artificially calm. He runs down the last few flights of stairs and into the parking garage, locating the ambulance before he hears Spencer again. “Morgan?”

“Yeah, baby,” he says, panting half from the exertion of sprinting down far too many flights of stairs and partly from the pressure of the situation settling on his chest — the stakes actually registering for the first time.

“You sound stressed,” Spencer says, deliberate and light. “Where are you?”

“Not where I want to be right now,” Derek replies, a little self-deprecatingly. Really, it’s just deflection; a last ditch attempt at avoidance of the likelihood he dies tonight. “Reid, take this down for me: FDNY 108.”

“That’s an ambulance, are you okay?” His voice is quick and rises ever so slightly in pitch.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just track it for me.” Tentatively, he opens the door to the ambulance, heart sinking and blood pressure rising as soon as he clocks the monumental bomb stowed neatly in the trunk of the seat. “Reid, how long can you keep jamming the cell block?” He knows he’s sounding breathless now and he knows Spencer is probably panicking, unable to know what’s going on but clearly reading enough of the situation to understand that asking would be decidedly unhelpful right now.

“Uh, maximum of a few minutes, Morgan,” Spencer replies. “Why?”

“I’m going to have to get this ambulance out of here.” This is it. The culmination.

“Or you could just evacuate the building like everyone else,” Spencer says urgently, sounding outraged at the idea.

Derek cringes at the disapproval, but he doesn't have a choice. “No, as soon as the airwaves are clear, this thing’s going up.”

“Going up?” Spencer doesn’t bother concealing the outright panic in his voice anymore. “That’s like… in three minutes, that’s when the satellite moves position.”

“Reid, listen to me,” Derek says, climbing into the cab of the ambulance and beginning to fiddle with the wiring. “I need you to find me an area of town I can drive this thing, and you tell everybody, you hear me, everybody that I’m coming.” He finally gets the engine to start and begins to drive out of the garage. “Alright. Talk to me, Reid.” He prays desperately that they get this right, that Spencer helps him, that they manage to subvert this terrorist attack.

“Okay,” Spencer says, back to his measured, calm tone of voice, and Derek sighs in relief at the sound. “Okay, head north… and floor it. I’ll tell you where to turn.” He’s almost out of the garage when the ‘paramedic’ starts shooting at the back of the ambulance, screaming in rage as Derek manages to escape both van and bomb unscathed. “What was that?”

“It was nothing,” Derek shouts, heart pounding in his ears as he turns the sirens and lights on, stepping on the gas as he heads north, “it was nothing. Just… talk to me. How am I doing, Reid?”

Derek hears Spencer ask Lisa for an update before exhaling hard. “1 minute, 50 seconds,” he replies, despair spilling into his voice. “Why does it always have to be you? Why do you always have to do this?” His stomach clenches at the sound of Spencer on the edge of tears and feels himself tearing up in response, swallowing his grief in lieu of actually replying. “Derek, you don’t have much time. Please be smart about this. Signal’s coming back on line, there’s thirty seconds until full coverage.”

Derek’s never driven so fast, his hands pinching at the steering wheel and every muscle tensed. He tries very hard not to think about the fact that there’s a bomb only a metre behind him, set to explode in less than half a minute.

“Derek, drive to the opening and then get the hell out,” Spencer says, no constraint to his emotion at this point, he’s almost shouting down the phone, very clearly crying, now.

He swallows. He has no choice; he has to tell him. “Spencer,” he says, nearly choked off by a sob, “there’s something I really want you to know.”

“Save it,” Spencer shouts. “Just get out!”

“No, you know what Reid? If I don’t make it out of this alive, I need you to know that I love you, alright?” he says, finally confessing to the secret he’s been holding close to his chest for so long, but as soon as the words are out of his mouth, he’s throwing himself out of the ambulance and running as fast as he can away from it, still not outrunning the blast picking him up and tossing him across the field.

Slowly, getting back to his feet, he turns to face the fire as he catches his breath. He has no idea how he’s still alive.

Fiddling with his earpiece, he tunes back into Spencer’s line to hear him crying on the other end. “Oh, God, Derek, I love you, too,” he sobs as soon as he hears Derek click back into the call.

“Spencer, I’ll tell you what you are to me,” he says, relief and warmth and love blooming across his chest, driving out the crippling fear and panic previously rooted there, “you’re my God-given solace. Baby, you promise me one thing… whatever happens, don’t you ever stop talking to me.”

Spencer laughs wetly, and it’s the most beautiful sound Derek’s heard so far. “I’m so mad at you, right now,” he says, but his happiness is written across every word, “I’m so angry. But… I love you, too.”

Derek laughs, too, the relief of being both alive and loved by Spencer almost euphoric as he walks away from the still blazing ambulance. He guesses he has a terror cell’s failed attack to thank for his long overdue admittance of his love for Dr Spencer Reid, and the frankly wonderful news that it’s actually reciprocated.

⭐️

Derek and Hotch arrive back at Quantico 12 hours after everyone else, having driven home instead of taking the jet with the others due to Hotch’s rather inconvenient ear trauma. That only gives Spencer more time to panic over seeing him for the first time since their deathbed love confessions; they’d spoken briefly on the phone the morning before Derek and Hotch set off, promising to talk about it in person as soon as he was home, and now he nearly was.

Penelope had made a beeline for Spencer as soon as the others had arrived and taken him out for coffee, despite their mutual exhaustion. She’d deduced the situation based on Spencer’s incredibly cryptic HELP. IT HAPPENED. text message almost immediately after the explosion, having been the only one Spencer had confided in about his feelings for Derek. No matter how much she promised him Derek felt the same, he refused to do anything about it, leaving her to watch her two favourite people pine miserably for one another, and actively choosing to remain in said misery instead of confessing and being happy.

He now actually felt bad for her.

“Just tell him what you want,” Penelope says over the top of her latte, croissant crumbs littering the table in between them. “You want to get married and have lots of babies with him.”

“Okay, first of all,” Spencer says, fixing her with a look, “you know that neither of those things are true. And, secondly, it’s not that simple. What if he isn’t looking for a relationship or anything? Why hasn’t he said something before now?”

To her credit, Penelope avoids slamming her head into the table in frustration despite how much he looks like she wants to. “Spencer,” Penelope says, levelling a look right back at him, “Derek thought he was about to die. And in that moment, all he felt like he needed was to be sure that you knew he loves you. How could you possibly be that in love with someone and not crave a relationship with them?”

Spencer finds it hard to argue against that.

Derek reclines on Spencer’s sofa, comfortably surveying the organised chaos of his living room, while Spencer tries to gather the snacks and drinks as calmly as possible in the kitchen, finding it much harder to assume the seemingly unaffected air Derek pulls off so easily. He walks back to where he’s sitting, and he almost drops his only slightly wobbly tray at the blinding smile Derek sends his way.

“Oh, pretty boy, you’re spoiling me,” he teases, sitting upright and leaning forward to survey the snacks Spencer had rushed out and bought earlier that afternoon. Naturally, he blushes immediately at the compliment and sits next to him on the sofa, grabbing a drink for something to do with his hands.

“Well, if all it takes is some cheese puffs from Walmart to make you happy then I think this is going to be alright,” Spencer says, trying for cool, calm, and collected and hitting somewhere near nervous and frenzied instead.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Derek scoffs as he breaks off a piece of chocolate and takes a bite. “I’m here for you, not the refreshments, luxurious as they might be. I don’t remember confessing my love to snack food in the moment I thought I was going to die.” He ruffles Spencer’s hair as his face heats up even more, smiling bashfully over at him.

“No,” Spencer agrees, feeling all warm inside, “you told me.”

Derek looks serious all of a sudden. “I did,” he nods, leaning forward to put the chocolate down on the tray so he can focus all his attention on Spencer, taking his hands in his own, “and I meant it. I’ve probably been in love with you since you joined the team, Spencer, but I realised it properly last year, and I was always too scared to say anything. I’m sorry it had to be in that moment, and I’m even more sorry that if I’d died you would have had to live with that for the rest of your life.” He pauses and looks down at his lap for a moment. “That was unforgivable.”

Spencer smiles at him, gripping Derek’s fingers a little tighter. “I’m not mad about any of that, Derek,” he says, “I’m just glad it finally happened. And so is Penelope, apparently. She’s been telling me you loved me back for years but I never believed her; I didn’t think this would ever happen.”

Derek chuckles fondly at that and brings his hand to Spencer’s cheek, brushing his fingers across the warm skin for just a moment, but Spencer can’t help but lean into his touch, eyelids fluttering half-closed as they meet in such an intimate manner. “So, pretty boy,” he says, smile warm and eyes bright, “shall we give this a go?”

Spencer looks back up at Derek and takes a second to let the moment he’d daydreamed about for so long sink in, let himself marinate in the love that Derek has for him. “Yes,” he replies. “Please.” And then Derek’s lips are on his own, his hands around his face, and the future’s never looked so bright.

taglist: @strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez @drinkingcroissants

Just a note: a lot of the dialogue was stolen directly from the episode and Derek & Spencer's conversation on the phone is almost an exact transcript; it's from my notes though so it may not be perfect. It also follows the case very closely and none of that is mine.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds writing #moreid #moreid fic #derek morgan #spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #moreid angst #moreid fluff #moreid au #criminal minds au #moreid writing #derek morgan x spencer reid #my writing

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think-thonkin · 5 years ago

Text

Different kind of grief

Have you ever experienced a friendship or relationship breaking apart so terribly and irreparably that you grieve it like you'd grieve for a recently deceased loved one?

Like you don't even grieve the person, but the companionship, the late night talks that exposed questions about existence and deeply hidden feelings coming into star-brightened darkness, the occasional laughing fits, the warm smiles, the content silences...

She was the last one I had. In person I mean. I cherish and appreciate my online friends with a soul-crushing passion, but the in-person companionship I crave is a kind of void that they just cannot fulfill, not anytime soon at least.

We were unhappy even before our relationship changed labels, I think. We didn't have much in common anymore, after (then) 15 years of having been friends, our interests and expectations in life and romance had drifted apart instead of closer together and it should have been the first sign that turning our relationship into a romantic one was a terrible idea.

I was unhappy, I ended up being the initiator of practically everything, be it touch or conversation or addressing problems. It was always me that stepped forward, and the lines between platonic and romantic felt like a blurry and dangerous path to tread on without her telling me what is too far and what isn't, so sticking to small displays of affection like occasionally holding hands and a few gentle kisses to the cheek or forehead were the most bravery I could muster and the most I received in turn. I was touchstarved and desperately craving physical proximity, in part to battle my internalized self hatred that told me I was undesirable and only her last resort choice after 3 failed relationships of her own.

One time she exploded on me, her years worth of bottled up frustration and anger at the world bubbling up over a relatively small situation via text, intentionally twisting my words to be angry with me and vent more of her tension. She apologized later, but the panic attack I had that day would stick with me for far longer still.

I would start noticing when she lied about her feelings.

The way I recognized her typing style shift, her voice grow meek, the sudden increase of time required to form responses. Seeing the signs was easy, but discerning the cause was always about as clear to me as milk.

I was taught that honesty and communication were key in maintaining healthy relationships, so I would ask her if I did something wrong or if we needed to talk something out in any way, because I had noticed her tone change mid-conversation.

She would always insist that everything was fine, maintaining her facade of the perfectly composed adult.

I believed her and reinforced the chains that bound me to her.

We would start writing less, seeing each other less, despite only living two blocks apart. It was more and more difficult to get any mutually beneficial conversation going and we'd get frustrated being around each other in person after as little as 3 hours too. She at some point insulted my interests and got angry at me for struggling to share hers. I've tried to bring our lack of intimacy and unclear boundaries to attention too one day, only to have her shake her head and tell me that she's fine with whatever, that she doesn't need much to be happy. What we had didn't cut it for me and it had hurt, having my feelings ignored like this, so I refrained from trying again.

I thought it better to not poke the sleeping bear anyways.

Then, someone new tumbled into my life, someone with a passion as sparkling and intense as my own, a lonely soul masked in a charmingly awkward, ironic bravado and bluntly thrown quips. It didn't take long for us to click and converse on the daily. The more we learned of each other, the more similarities we found.

He lives several hundred kilometers away, but it still took only two months of daily texting and several hours of voice and videochat for me to fall head over heels.

I felt so unbelievably guilty.

I couldn't sever the chains that tied me to her out of fear of playing into her insecurities, but by the time I met him I had already been feeling like a bird stuck in a cage - solely there for her comfort, putting her feelings before my own, always. I was unhappy, we weren't working. But I cared more about her than myself, so I told myself I wouldn't break up with her.

And yet she’d deserved to know the truth, so as soon as I realized my feelings I confessed about it to her.

Things got messy from there, too much back and forth with me desperately clawing for any bit of selfish compromise I could get my hands on.

She eventually had enough of it and broke up with me, but we promised we'd stay friends.

She put on her porcelain mask of careful indifference and things went smoothly for a while.

It didn't take long for the mask to crack though. It was too frail to withstand her jealousy, her heartache, and eventually it fell apart.

She came to me with misinterpreted situations and long ago wrongdoings I've comitted, in her mind to intentionally cross her, talking over me when I attempted to correct her or defend myself, accusing me of being a lying, backstabbing bitch who was not an ounce better than the grovelling, attention-starved crybabies that play the victim card at and every opportinity. Then she insulted me and my loved ones up and down.

Then she left.

And I wailed as my shaking fingers blocked her on every site I could think of, terrified of her wrath and scared of more to come.

And then I hated her, for her hypocrisy and the hurt she's inflicted on me, as the realization of her small manipulative tactics to keep me bound to her slowly sunk in (for the sake of maintaining her anonymity I will not go into detail about how specifically she manipulated me, but know that there was what I now understand to have been some gaslighting involved).

Now, over a year after she confronted me, all I have left are the glowing embers of grief replacing my rage, and the understanding that I too have made more mistakes than I can count and had originally realized.

Now it doesn't matter who had ultimately been at fault, or whether or not her behavior was hypocritical or just.

All I know is that now I am lonely and tired.

Tired of being angry and hurt.

Tired of remembering her in all those little, painful ways that have shaped my life over the 16 years I've known her.

I still have him and my online friends and feel more balanced and supported than I've ever been, but in losing her I have also lost my only remaining real life friend and along with it, the kind of companionship my online friends cannot give.

She's written me a letter together with some old art of mine since that last fateful conflict, actually.

It made all of my emotions flare up again.

On the first read it had felt sincere, she was apologizing for not letting me defend myself in our last conversation all those months ago, that she's doing better now, especially in handling her emotions more openly and hasn't had any outbursts since. She also said she'd send me the art pieces and gifts I've given her over the years back if she found more of them.

On the second read it felt like salt in an open wound, an attempt to rub in that she is over me, better off without me while I was still stuck in my grief and hurt. I've written countless drafts of response letters, ranging from long and infuriated, to brief and sorrowful, to sarcastically apologetic until eventually I gave up trying altogether. Too stricken with negative emotions to think clearly.

I'm still unsure which outcome would be pettier of me, trying to get the last word in, or deciding she doesn't deserve an answer? Would sending her a response incite an attempt to mend our lost friendship and rekindle it, or would not answering imply my agreement to have her send back more items in the future?

It made me realize that I don't actually want her back in my life.

That it's not her that I miss, but rather the easy in-person companionship I've had with her, the happiness and comfort that comes with it.

By writing this post I was kind of hoping to find a different kind of closure, by getting my thoughts and feelings out about it all without actually writing her back.

I'm still hurting and lonely, but it's gotten better, continues to get better.

If you've read this far - and really, I don't think there's much of a reason you would, you don't know me after all, so why should you care - thank you for lending a patient ear to a grieving stranger.

If you think that you are who this whole post is centered around:

I genuinely do hope you are doing well. That you will find happiness, comfort, genuine companionship and a warm meal and bed to return to every day.

I just wish for it to be far away from my own.

#vent #bisexuality #relationship #failed relationship #story time #thoughts #heartbreak #prose

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freebooter4ever · 5 years ago

Text

i’ve seen the discussion going back and forth on boundaries and sexual objectification, and i don’t have much to add to the conversation other than to say everyone is allowed to determine their OWN ‘lines’ and just because we don’t vocalize them doesn’t make them any less valid. but here’s the limits i set for my blog if anyone feels it is important for them to know (<3):

personally I consider ‘characters’ fair game for anything goes, with ‘public personas’ a little more iffy. ‘RPF’ isn’t new - it just takes on a new more accessible/visible form nowadays. i remember reading my first fic about a ‘real person’ back in my LOTR fandom days - it was a story in first person perspective about the main character meeting orlando bloom on a plane before he was ‘famous’. like a lot of these types of stories, it wasnt so much about the person as it was about the meet cute. the actor was just a convenient placeholder with a handsome face and some personality quirks thrown in to make the romance/dialogue more specific. i personally dont read much xReader fic nowadays, but mostly only cause i’m an old fart who can’t relate to the ‘you’ format. i miss the good old days when people actually created OC’s and then inserted them into things LOL. but also LOL if you think i’ve gone an entire year of quarantine without some imagined personal fantasies of joe mazzello (or steve aoki in the years before)(ramilicious can attest to this. she can also attest to most of these fantasies ending in friendship rather than anything explicit cause that’s just how i roll these days lol). the line i draw is i would never post these types of fics in a place where the subject could accidentally find them - you have to go looking for this stuff on tumblr, most fics are given explicit ratings and under read-mores. with the blacklist tags it’s pretty easy to filter things out. its even easier to add filters to ao3 searches. i am NOT going to do something like message steve aoki and say ‘yeah i watched that movie Ibiza like five times, here is my 1k fic where you’re the dj and i’m the one night stand’. but obviously people still enjoy imagining scenarios like these otherwise movies like Ibiza wouldn’t exist?

for art, i consider anything already on display up for grabs, we all know a certain person’s ass is all over the place...all you have to do is google ‘need for speed’ and rami’s name. HOWEVER, in the case of actors i personally would not draw anything more explicit than what’s already there. i’m not gonna draw full frontal nudity for rami (unless he gifts us with it in a movie, i suppose) or anyone. this is 100% a personal choice for me.

i was a sophomore or junior in college when i volunteered as a figure drawing monitor where i’d time the nude model’s poses and help them set up the stage and lighting and such. there was this one guy in his mid forties probably, a regular who came every week, and i always thought of him fondly till one day (the day after i ran into my Hot Programming TA during dinner and later sent him an email begging him to go on a date with me because i was desperate for kissing experience)(and Hot Programming TA emailed me back within minutes saying yes) this artist guy who i saw all the time and thought i knew fairly well, decided to draw me instead of the model. which would have been fine except he drew me naked. i was NOT naked at the time, i was wearing a shirt, and a bra, and a full prairie skirt with alternating calico and floral patterns. he drew what he imagined was underneath all that. he came up to me after the figure drawing session and showed me his drawings and told me i had been ‘glowing’ and my response was to laugh it off awkwardly and get the hell out of there as soon as i gave the model their pay check. but inwardly i was thinking a) i was NOT glowing for this creepy man twice my age and b) i did NOT give him consent to sexualize my body under my clothes and then SHOW me that objectification. i never said anything to him or anything else, i continued to be the monitor, and i continued to field off creepy advances from him including multiple job offers, but when i finally realized i could just...stop..and i passed the student volunteer monitor job on to my friend naeem, i also realized that what that older male artist did was NOT ok in my book. and it was probably not something he would do while naeem was monitoring.

nowadays im working in an industry that regularly objectifies female bodies. in the past year alone i have had to deal with requests to make breasts bigger, i have been given character rigs that in addition to the usual elbow, knee, and spine joints also have ‘nipple’ joints but ONLY for the women (to make them jiggle for animation), every time i send out a female pose i get it back with notes that push it further into the sexy type of body language reserved for women (twist the spine more! sway the back more! give it ‘energy!’), i have been told to erase wrinkles and fat and pores but ONLY for the women (men you ADD pores bc realism! and manliness!) and this is all me working for a company that is actually fairly progressive in terms of sexism compared to OTHER studios.

like it or not, sexual objectification is a huge part of specifically women’s lives and how we react to that is our business. for me, turning the tables and putting men on display feels like fair’s fair. i cant stop the men from doing it, so if i want to enjoy sexualizing male bodies, damn it im gonna! like dang it, boy do i want to send steve aoki a thank you note every time he posts a video of himself doing those ice baths during the sunset golden hour bc holy shit gorgeous or working out in his gym wearing VERY little clothes, but i dont because i know what its like when someone imposes their personal fantasies on the subject. or, god, there was that time i had to unfollow nicole’s insta for a while bc i had a very explicit dream about her and realized, shit, i need to take a break and get my emotions under control before i can refollow. and god some of the stuff i see dudes sending her during her live videos on mental illness/meditation is TOTALLY gross and not something they should be confronting her with. and she’s not even ‘famous’ famous. or how some fans send their idols explicit direct messages without consent. THAT feels inappropriate to me.

a part of me feels like i shouldn’t have to defend this. men don’t. they’re even encouraged in mass media to sexualize women. but i also recognize the importance of talking about consent. the importance of recognizing that a celebrity deserves to have their boundaries respected. these are my lines in fandom. other people have different lines they won’t cross, and that’s okay to me. i block or blacklist any blogs or tags i think go over the top.

heck, even in fandom-only spaces i still try to keep my own more sexual fantasies off this blog and only in private messages with my friends and mutuals, and i feel like that might come across as unintentionally prudish or judgmental sometimes. i’m not ‘horny on main’ very often. but like...every time i reblog that particular ‘washing machine’ gif of joe mazzello am i thinking about him naked and thinking about how he’s got very loooooong feet, and ‘gee i wonder if that means /other/ things are Too Big for my tastes’ but also ‘gosh wouldnt that make a pretty picture to draw’???? hell yeah.

i dont know who is gonna actually read this essay but yolo i guess :)

#journal shit

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utterlyinevitable · 5 years ago

Note

the amazon one! thank you!

request: “was it really love if you can leave me for” lyric from thick and thin by lany

Was It

Word Count: 1.5k Warning: angst and a few curse words Summary: This takes place somewhere after OH2 where Ethan and MC started dating.

A/N: I love this song and hope I did it justice! The first part of Do We Have a Future was loosely influenced by this song so if you haven’t read it and love some angst I definitely recommend it 😬

not the best thing i’ve written but thankful to be coming out of my writers block.

________________________________________

It took them so long to finally get to a place of mutual understanding. Far too long for them to finally submit to their feelings for one another.

One notable spring evening, Ethan and Becca were heading to the Boston Opera House. Ethan had given them both an early shift so they can enjoy a relaxing evening together accompanied by soothing arias. They hadn’t been back in this box together since intern year. Since he kissed her back and immediately brushed it off as nothing.

They had a lovely time - holding hands in silence, letting the melodies of the orchestra lift their spirits. Becca rested her head on his shoulder when she wasn’t on the edge of her seat in anticipation. Ethan watching her reactions intently - he had seen this opera on multiple occasions and could recite it verbatim. A smile graced his features as he watched her, his mind absentmindedly strolling down memory lane.

The subtle glances. The hand holds. Miami. The kiss. The hearing. Saving Naveen. The first time. Their last time. The Amazon…

Look how far we’ve come, he thought.

On the drive back to his apartment Ethan was still so deep in nostalgia. Although this time he voiced his sentimentality out loud.

***

Late night three days later Becca was in Ethan’s apartment, hovering at the threshold. She kept her jacket on, making the conscious decision to not make herself at home. This wasn’t the night she would let herself push all of her concerns aside and unapologetically fall back into Ethan Ramsey’s addictive embrace once again.

Ethan watched with a trained eye as his girlfriend paced back and forth. Becca tried to think of what to say. She knew the words, she’d been replaying and reciting them for days now but for some reason none of them felt right on her tongue.

The other day in the car Ethan brought up his trip to the Amazon - the ultimate betrayal in Becca’s eyes. She could have handled a casual affair between them, hell she’s had plenty of those, but what hurt the most were the promises he made long before he disappeared. He told her they were going to work it out. They were going to figure this out. Together. They were straight lies off of Ethan’s lips. Becca forgave him once in blind infatuation. She was so caught up in her attraction for him that she forgot how continuously he shattered her heart in those early months. Now that she had him freely, she could see past her rose tinted glasses for the pain that came with this man.

“That wasn’t courage. It was cowardice,” he explained once again. They’d had this conversation briefly ages ago but he never finished telling her exactly why he needed to flee. “I realized I fell in love with you and needed to clear my head before we began working closely together.”

Staring out the passenger window her eyes went wide, “What?”

Becca was already irked by the feelings that surfaced at the mention of his abandonment. A ball started to form in her throat as his words sank in.

Ethan never ever said that four letter word to her face before.

Under normal circumstances, with normal couples, that small yet powerful word was meant to warm the insides and elicit an overwhelming sense of euphoria. Instead, Becca’s chest tightened.

“I couldn’t be in love with you,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “We needed a reset.”

“You… loved me?”

“Yes.” Ethan's smile grew bigger as he added, “I love you.”

Becca felt like she was going to vomit.

She looked everywhere but at Ethan as the words began to manifest. It had taken all of her courage to come here and ask the things that were plaguing her mind since last summer.

“You realized you loved me and… left?” It was phrased as an uncertain question but she meant it as a statement. “Not tell me how you felt?”

Ethan’s brows furrowed at her question. It was the first thing she said upon entering his apartment and her noticeable distance was concerning him. “You know I couldn’t feel that way. It was unethical.”

“We’re unethical now, Ethan, and the world hasn’t collapsed,” she retorted.

With a rueful sigh he confessed, “I was wrong.”

“Yeah… you were,” she trailed off. She let her eyes glance upwards towards him. Ethan was staring at her, blue eyes storm ridden and full of worry, the creases in his features were more than evident and showing his age. “Were you ever going to tell me?” she just about whispered.

Ethan took a step towards her, “I didn’t think I needed to.” Instinctively Becca stepped backwards, the door handle mere inches away from her lower back. Earnestly he said, “I thought my actions spoke louder than my words ever could.”

She knew he was referring to all the truths and secrets they’ve shared, all the hand holding and caresses - the way he seems to put her future before all else - the way he loved her. But the only things coming to the foreground were him pushing her away, leaving, letting himself have her just to then cast her aside like a mistake.

She stood up straighter, letting the newfound rage building in her core fuel her. “Was it really love if you could leave me for something so small? We slept together and you bolted, Ethan.”

Ethan took a deep breath in. This was not the evening he had planned for them - they were supposed to have a romantic evening in. But instead they were sparring, and Ethan desperately wanted to wave the white flag in surrender.

“It doesn’t excuse my actions,” his eyes fell to the floor in guilt as he spoke. “All I can say is I’m sorry for wasting all that time. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

Becca crossed her arms over her chest at the line she’s heard countless times and bit, “Have you ever had a one night stand before?”

“Have you?” Ethan retaliated. He regretted the words immediately. He knew he didn’t need to be defensive, he didn’t want to be defensive. He just wanted to have a nice evening with the love of his life, but for some reason she wasn’t happy anymore.

“Don’t you dare slut shame me!” She moved closer and slapped his arm. “If you didn’t want to be anything more you should have just told me from the start.” Ethan saw how her doe brown eyes turned to black within an instant. He fucked up. Becca continued to poke him in the chest, “Instead of leaving me when I needed you most -” another poke, “every fucking time things get hard you leave.”

With her finger digging firmly into his torso, Ethan asked, “Where is this coming from?”

Becca threw her hands up in the air like it was the most obvious conclusion, “I don’t trust you!”

“Huh?”

“I don’t trust you not to leave again. I don’t trust you not to break my heart. I don’t trust myself for falling further into you and the next time I might not be able to pull myself back out of the depths.” Becca was breathing heavily now, the spilling of all those emotional words taking its toll.

“Rookie…” his eyes were a mix of saddened concern and pleas.

Eloquently with the muster of a thousand suns she added, “We’re not going to work long-term.”

And with that Becca turned on her heels to leave.

Ethan caught her elbow mid-spin.

“Do not walk away, Lao.” he used his authoritative voice, knowing full well it would temporarily distract her from her task. “We can fix whatever this is - we’re partners through everything, right?”

She didn’t respond.

“Right?” he practically begged.

Becca kept silent, her eyes fixated on the silver doorknob.

“Dammit, Rebecca!” he exclaimed through gritted teeth and glazed eyes. “Tell me how to make things better.”

She shook her head one single time, “You can’t.”

She pulled her arm forcefully away and walked out the door.

Left in utter bafflement, Ethan’s hand flew to his hair, pulling at the roots.

“What the hell just happened?” he asked the universe.

He wanted to go after her. He needed to go after her and ask her not to hold the sins of his past against him. But he knew Becca better than most and chasing her down would only lead to a bigger argument.

She couldn’t cut things off so easily.

She couldn’t stop loving him because of a past mistake. Right?

They had been through too much the last two years for this to be the end. She was there with him every step of the way - she was his rock. His sanity in dark times. She was his best friend and his savior in every blatant and biblical aspect of the words.

What did he do for her in return?

Ethan went over to his bar cart in desperate need of something strong. That’s when he saw it. The small black box sitting next to the decanter.

Tonight was supposed to be the night.

Was he foolish for misreading their whole relationship? Was he crazy for wanting a future with the young resident?

The irony was not lost on him.

With great force Ethan hurled the small box at the front door. Leaving a small dent in the metal plating.

________________________________________

Taglist: @ohchoices @dulceghernandez @aylamreads @binny1985 @ramseysno1rookie @interobanginyourmom @queencarb @perriewinklenerdie @rookiefromedenbrook @eramsey28 @choicesficwriterscreations @heauxplesslydevoted @schnitzelbutterfingers @purpledragonturtles @ramseyandrys @ermidc @mrsdrakewalkerblog @doilooklikeiknow @overwhelminglyaquarius @drethanramslay @edgiestwinter @rookieoh

#open heart #open heart fanfic #choices open heart #choices fanfic #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #choices oph2 #oph ff #oph #ff #ethan winters #ohsy #requests

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tealsapphire · 4 years ago

Text

The irony is not lost on me.

On the contrary, I spent the whole day being so conscious, or brooding, about it (even in the middle of day-long mid year review, induction training AND customer meeting, yes) I can finally come into one sound, proud conclusion : I've finally moved on past J.

This is J we are talking about. The man who contributed to the worst heartbreak I've ever had in my 33 years living on planet #3.

All of my past indie playlist consisting of melancholic, angsty songs that was kind of dedicated for him, or the memory of our relationship. Heck, my past Tumblr account consisted of emotional, dark and lonely posts that was meant for him (if I actually had any guts to tell those words)

10 years I spent avoiding any means of communicating with him.

That was easy at first. He moved 8,509 kilometres away (this is a fact) and got settled in immediately with a nice lady (now this is assumptive because I've never really found out in detail how his life post-me was, it was too painful and also embarrassing to stalk your ex) but one thing I know, they got married (and still are).

So he moved on smoothly. While I was pretty much stuck in my 4rd year of med school, staying in that city for another 2 year feeling miserable, lonely and freaking in pain.

I used to laugh when people said that heartbreak felt like someone physically rip your heart out of your chest. And oh man, I experienced that pain.

After a while the pain kinda subsided and I decided that in no fucking hell I'd want to experience that again. I blocked him everywhere. Email (marked as spam), phone number (easy, I don't really have his number and pretty sure he won't reach out to me first), social media accounts (kids this was in 2010 so we only had FB, Skype, and Flickr at that time but hell yes I blocked him on all of those)

Harsh, and yes it hurt but hearing from him again (when he's not mine)... The idea fucking hurts.

I spent the next few years still being sore everytime his name was mentioned, going for relationship with guys when my heart clearly wanted him only, and getting haunted by his shadows in my dreams.

He found me in 2016 in a social media platform through a mutual friend and we reconnected briefly.

Big mistake. I got heartbroken still after 6 years. He was still as charming and polite as ever, saying that he missed me (as a friend of course, but goddamn it my heart just couldn't take the pain).

So I did what I do best, I blocked him and asking our mutual friend to never give any of my information to him ever again.

Life was pretty quiet after that.

Then came 2020. Freaking stubborn dude found me on LinkedIn (of all places to look for your ex, am I right) and we reconnected again.

This time, I took the liberty to laid it all out: save me all the crap of missing me, and let's know each other all over again as friends.

Never really got any confirmation from him but his approach definitely got more muted than years before. We started to talk about mundane stuffs: my 9-5 job and his clinic, general situation between our countries, and generally about families. I draw a line about details of his personal life; honestly I don't want to know and although it doesn't hurt anymore, I decided that I don't want to be having a fake smile about it and cry afterwards later on during emotional meltdown.

He complied so far, and at least he never really brought up anything from our time together in the past. That shit still hurts.

But to have him back in my life, albeit fleetingly, is something I wouldn't dare to think about even 5 years ago.

We talk from time to time, one short conversation every month or even less frequently.

And just that, this morning in mid July 2021 I woke up at 6pm (midnight in Germany) with a photo of him raising a glass of whisky.

That damned smile plastered on his handsome face used to make my heart flutter like a high school girl, but this morning I woke up looking at that photo just feeling indifferent.

We had a 15 mins worth of texting and for the very first time in 11 years, it felt just like texting my work colleague about next presentation module: unattached and honestly-i-don't-give-a-damn-about-you.

Now at 10pm, I look back to the picture he sent me this morning and finally, finally, I can look at that face with no feelings anymore.

If this is the feeling of finally moving on, I'm loving it.

Yes the always-melodramatic part of me always wishes that the moment would come like those epiphanic scenes in House MD, but no.

And I'm totally fine with it.

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janetfraiserdeservedbetter · 5 years ago

Text

Pins And Needles (Chapter Two)

(Read Chapter One here)

Rating: G

Word Count: 2294

Fandom: Stargate SG1

Pairing: Sam Carter x Janet Fraiser

Summary: Janet is a single mother and owner of a tattoo studio. Sam is a florist who has just moved into town. Janet's infatuated. Sam's a disaster gay. Flower shop/Tattoo parlour AU.

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Chapter Two

Business was slow that day with only a few booked clients and a handful of walkins so Janet took the opportunity to get some administrative work done, which was good because she couldn’t stop thinking of the new florist. She put it down to Sam being so goddamn gorgeous. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes, deciding that she needed a break. The computer screen told her that it was almost 3 o’clock and she’d run out of coffee an hour ago. Vala was just finishing up with a client, a new marine in his twenties who’d gotten his first tattoo, a small eagle on his forearm. They’d had to take a few breaks, making what should have been a 30-minute job into an hour. Janet got to her feet, dumping her empty cup in the bin as she approached the counter where he was paying. “How did it all go?” She smiled politely resting a hand on Vala’s arm who returned the smile, looking a little exasperated. As soon he had finished paying and the door closed after him, Vala rolled her eyes and dropped back onto her stool as she tidied up the area. “That man is supposed to protect our country and he can’t even handle a tattoo. God’s help us all.” Janet hummed absently as she fished for her bag out of the staff cupboard, glancing back across the street for the thousandth time. The sun had disappeared behind thick, dark clouds and the rain had just started, drizzling lazily against the sidewalk. Usually, Cassie would meet them at the studio and spend the afternoon doing her homework in Daniel’s shop until close but in weather like this, it wasn’t unusual for Janet to pick her up if she wasn’t with a client. The other woman followed her gaze and smirked, tossing a wad of paper towel at her. “Go ask her out or are you a coward as well as a flaming homosexual?” If it was anyone else speaking to her like that, Janet may have knocked them out. Instead, she rolled her eyes and ignored the woman’s taunts. “I’m going to get Cass, call me if you need anything.”

“...So then I told Eliza where to shove it -” “Cassandra Fraiser!” “-Then Mr. Waters gave me detention for a week! A week, mom! That’s, like, totally unfair!” The school traffic was backed up for blocks and what was supposed to be a 10-minute drive had turned into half an hour and Janet couldn’t wait to get home and sleep. “Cassie, I thought we promised that you were going to try to behave this year.” The teenager rolled her eyes, arms folded across her chest and Janet sighed, squeezing the steering wheel. “What were you arguing about anyway?” This time, Cassie didn’t answer, the silence heavier than it ought to be. They inched forward in the traffic. “Cass.” “She called you a dyke.” A car honked for them to move forward again - the congestion was clearing now - and Janet let out a long, sharp breath. “I’m sorry, Cass.” “It’s not right, mom! How was I the one to get in trouble when they called you… that?” “I appreciate you standing up for me, Cassie, but sometimes you need to pick your battles. Outside of school, snot the kid but when you’re in class, you… you can’t risk your education.” “So, I let them win?” The conversation was going in circles and before she could think of an appropriate answer, they were parking in front of the studio. Janet turned in her seat, lips pursed. “No. But you don't sacrifice your education for a low life like that.” The teenager huffed and Janet reached over, squeezing her hand. “I’m proud of you...Wanna grab a hot chocolate?” They shared a smile and Cassie nodded; the rain had eased off now but the pavement was slick and Janet made sure to watch her step as she climbed out. “Sam?” She was surprised to see a tall, blonde woman talking to Vala and the two women turned to them as they entered. “Getting a tattoo?” Pink flared across Sam’s fair cheeks and she shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, shrugging. “I, uh… I finished unpacking most of my boxes and I thought maybe you could show me around?” The warm blue eyes moved then from her to the teenager. “Oh, I’m sorry, I promised Cassie--” “Don’t be silly, mom,” the girl interrupted, grinning as she looked between them, “Vala promised to help me with my homework.” Her partner in crime laughed, giving Janet the thumbs up. Sam looked a little confused but good-naturedly went along with it. Janet gave her an apologetic smile, ignoring the two trouble makers. “Then I’d love to show you around.” “Great.” She shot her daughter and staff a look and followed Sam onto the sidewalk, glad for the warmer clothes she’d chosen that morning. The afternoon was looking grey and damp, with the promise of more rain to come but for now, it left the air with memories of winter just passed. “So, you have a daughter?” The question didn’t sound judgy but like she was genuinely interested. They made their way down the main street that was fairly empty for this time of day, taking their time on their stroll. “Yeah, she just turned 14… It’s been a hell of a ride.” “Is her dad a tattoo artist too?” Janet hesitated. “No, he’s not in our lives anymore.” “Oh, god I’m sorry..” “No, no, don’t be, he’s not dead, though sometimes I wish he was.” She could see the confusion written all over Sam’s face and she smiled back reassuringly. “No, we just don’t have anything to do with him, not since we moved out here a few years back.” “Sounds like it was for the best…” “Best thing I’ve ever done...What about you? You married?” Sam laughed gently, blue eyes warm and Janet felt her belly do a little flip. “No. Nearly happened a few times but apparently, I attract psychos. Jonas, well, he ended up getting into some weird cult and Pete wanted different things than I did.” “Men, huh.” “Yeah. I guess that’s part of the reason I came out here. Fresh start and all that.” A faint rumble echoed across the sky and as a pair, the women looked up as the first few drops of rain dropped onto their cheeks. With very little notice, the skies opened again and unleashed the mother of all rain, fat heavy drops pounding the pavement. Sam shrieked and Janet laughed, a little bit giddy as she pulled Sam into the hardware store. The door slammed behind them and the blonde woman shook the water out of her hair, grinning like a mad man. “Wet enough for you, ladies?” Lightning illuminated the street again as the women turned to the voice. Standing by an ancient cash register, positioning a metal bucket under the steady drip from the roof was a handsome man in his mid 40’s; his skin was like honey and despite the weather, his silvering hair was hidden beneath a khaki cap. Janet barely remembered to let go of the other woman’s hand and greeted the man with a grin. “Hey there, Jack,” She tried to fix her windswept hair, suddenly a little self-conscious. Jack kept himself in better shape than most other men of his age and he was well aware of women’s desire for him. Janet had seen her fair share of the man over the past few years but recently and most importantly, mutually, they’d decided that neither of them was willing to advance the ‘relationship’ further than what it was; too many drinks and late-night booty calls. They were both damaged in their own ways and neither seemed very good at working on themselves. Still, they were good friends and Cassie adored her ‘Uncle Jack’. That didn’t mean that Janet wouldn’t blush when he smiled at her like that. “This is Sam, the new florist.” He wiped a hand on his jeans and offered it to the blonde with a disarming smile. “Sam Carter.” “Jack. O’Neill. Nice to meet ya. That your ‘Ninja’ across the road?” “Sure is! You got one?” “Been trying to rebuild one for years but… Ah, you know how that is.” “Yeah, don’t I just. Got a shell at home but… well.” They both chuckled and Janet looked between them, brows raised with amusement. “Hope you don’t mind if we hole up in here until the rain passes.” “Not at all. Cam keeps saying that this place could use a feminine touch.” As if summoned, a younger man stuck his head out from the staff room, chowing down on some macaroons. Introductions were made, macaroons passed around and the staff kettle boiling while the storm raged on outside. Janet set herself on top of a small step ladder, watching as the florist spoke excitedly about her motorbike preferences. The store was large, much larger than her studio but with rows and rows of shelves cluttered with every type of nut, bolt, washer, screwdriver, and tool you could need. Jack didn’t keep the place very tidy but from what he’d told Janet, his ex-father-in-law had handed the keys over to him just before the divorce so most of the stuff was from as early as the ’80s. “So you’re ex-military?” Sam asked Jack, making herself comfortable on a fishing chair. “How could you tell?” Sam blushed, shrugging. “I know your type. My father was in the Air Force.” The man turned then, a sudden realisation coming to his face. “Carter. Of course, Jacob Carter?” “Yeah. You knew him?” “Met him in passing a few times. How is the old man going?” “Oh, he...passed away a few years ago. Cancer.” “Ah geez, I’m sorry. He was a good man.” Cam emerged with a tray of cups and macaroons his grandmother had made, he explained. He set it down on the counter and passed both women a cup of hot coffee. Sam shot Janet a skeptical look as the smaller woman sniffed the liquid. It smelt wrong and she wasn’t sure any amount of creamer or sugar could save it. ��“Sorry,” Cam commented, seeing their looks of distrust. “We usually get coffee from Jackson down the road so this is all we’ve got at the moment until the rain stops.” He held up his makeshift coffee mug - a mason jar that Janet could have sworn was holding pencils on the front desk moments ago. Jack took a sip from a battered styrofoam cup and grimaced. “How’s Cas?” he asked the tattoo artist who decided not to risk the murky brown liquid and cradled the cup on her knee. “Yeah, not bad. She, uh… got another detention today.” Janet shrugged. “Just say the word, Jan, I can take her for a weekend. Straighten her out.” His words were not unkind and a smile accompanied them. She was well aware that his ‘straightening out’ would be movies and pizza. Still, it would be good for Cassie to spend some time with a parental figure like Jack. She often worried if she was doing the right thing by her daughter. It scared her to think that she was going to stuff her up in some way. “Thanks, Jack.” Their eyes met for a moment and she almost missed his touch. No, she thought, she had to be strong. As handsome and enticing as Jack was, Janet couldn’t let herself go there again.

It took almost an hour for the rain to ease and in that time, Sam and Jack seemed to hit it off, discussing their experience with the Air Force. Jealousy boiled in the base of her stomach but she tried to ignore it; she had no right to be jealous of either of them. As soon as the sky cleared a little, Janet got to her feet, setting her cup down by the counter. Three sets of eyes followed her. “I best get back. I don’t trust Vala with Cassie for too long; lord knows what trouble they’ll get into.” Sam stood as well, smiling at the smaller woman. “I’ll walk you back.” Janet nodded and the women said their goodbyes, not without Jack offering his help with Sam’s bike. There was that jealousy again and Janet made sure to hide it behind a tight-lipped smile. “Sorry the tour didn’t go so well,” she commented once they were out on the street. They’d only made it half a block before the storm hit and cut their time together short. Now though, the sky was blue, the darkest clouds moving towards the ever-darkening horizon. “It’s okay. They seem nice.” “Yeah, they’re good guys.” “Well maybe,” Sam shrugged, “I could buy you lunch tomorrow and we could finish the tour?” Janet felt her cheeks get a little warm and she nodded, smiling gently. “Sure. I think I can fit you in.” “I’ll bring the umbrella.” They made it back to the shop as Cassie and Vala were locking the doors up. Sam made her way across to her bike that was drenched from the downpour. “Let us give you a ride home,” Janet called. “We can swing by in the morning and drop you off.” Even if Sam was more interested in Jack, Janet wouldn’t let that stop her from making friends. Women had to stick together and she definitely wasn’t about to let a guy get between her and a new friendship. She saw Sam smile from across the road as she secured her bike and slung her bag over her shoulder. Janet made sure to ignore Cassie’s giggles all the way home.

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ahgasescenarios · 6 years ago

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Block Out the Noise- Wong Yukhei

Word count: 1.4k

Plot summary: Yukhei was too loud for your liking, much too loud. When you come over to the WayV dorm, Yukhei notices something that may prove to change things between you two. But to what extent?

A/N: Hello everyone! I’m back with another scenario and I may be back for good this time, I’m taking a creative writing class in school and it has actually proven to be really helpful. Be on the lookout for more of my writings because I hope to be writing much, much more. Thank you guys so much for everything and I promise I’ll do my best to provide the content you deserve in 2020 😊

masterlist

As Kun’s best friend, you had grown accustomed to his calm nature which you reciprocated. You tended to stay away from crowds and noise in general. The WayV dorm was the farthest from peaceful you had ever known, and you had had a tough time adjusting to the overly energetic boys. They were just so damn loud; you couldn’t stand it. Especially the tall one, Yukhei? That one particularly got on your nerves, and the feeling was mutual.

You had managed to develop somewhat of a routine over the past few months, though and while you still did not tolerate the Lucas character, you managed to block out the rest of the chaos if (more like when) need be. Since the boys had recently come back from promotions, you thought it to be a good idea to surprise them with orders of their favorite milk tea. You knocked on the door (barely balancing the drink carriers in your arms). You were met with your least favorite face of the bunch.

“Oh, it’s you.” He scrunched his nose up in disdain.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, mind helping me out here?”

“And why would I do that?”

You rolled your eyes and struggled to put down the drinks on the marble counter.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” You shoved his drink into his hand before he got a chance to reply.

You went around the dorm handing out everyone a drink, to which everyone expressed their gratitude except one.

“So, what are we doing today?” You asked.

“Actually, we’re beat. We’ll probably just all do our own thing today, but you’re still welcome to stay if you’d like.” Your best friend replied, sleepiness evident in his voice. You accepted his proposition and headed over to the couch to catch up with Xiaojun (who had grown to become your favorite).

You leaned forward as you reminisced about a given anecdote. From the kitchen, Yukhei’s eyes caught a flash of color in their midst. He turned his head to analyze the source of this color and found himself staring right at your back, the pink strings of your thong resting on your hips. He felt something twitch inside of him and had to take a moment to shake it off. This was the first time he saw you as well, a girl and this newfound attraction disturbed him as much as it excited him. He decided to join your conversation on the couch, settling down next to you which came as a surprise to both Xiaojun and yourself. Yukhei paid it no mind though and interrupted you mid-sentence to whisper in your ear.

“Might want to pull down your underwear, love.”

You blushed at his comment. You excused yourself to the bathroom and found it hard to catch your breath. How embarrassing, and for Lucas to notice of all people? It was wrong on so many levels. Yet you couldn’t quite explain why your heart did not seem to settle down upon sight of Lucas.

In the following weeks, Yukhei scrutinized you with a newfound interest. He found himself noticing your body a bit too much, how your thighs were on the thicker side and your small waist offered such a delicious contrast. His thoughts were running wild and the urge to tease you was less and less strong in him, which you undoubtedly noticed.

“What’s been up with you, Yukhei? Did you lose your touch?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He licked his lips suggestively and the motion triggered the same reaction you had experienced when he had commented on your panties.

He had been acting weird, beyond weird and you were clueless as to why. Not that you cared, really. Or did you? Was there a slight chance that you reciprocated the same weirdness when you were around him too? There was no way to tell. You shrugged it off for the time being, you had bigger fish to fry.

***

School had made you its bitch, it was official. You had been swamped in papers, exams and whatever presentation they deemed fit to squeeze into exam period and you needed a break. Because luck was not on your side, your shower had also stopped functioning and your body ached for a piping hot, relaxing shower. You could only think of one solution, although it did involve getting up from your bed which you weren’t keen on.

“Hi.”

“What do you need?” Kun opened the door to let you in, already knowing you needed something from your mere demeanor.

“Can I please take a shower here, mine broke and I’ve been so busy with studying and writing papers and studying some more then going to exams and then going to work that I haven’t had the time or means to shower. Can you please humor me, Kun? I’d be forever indebted to you.”

His mouth formed a straight line as he observed your begging form in front of him.

“You’re such a baby. Go.”

You jumped in his arms in pure joy. Yukhei had overheard you coming in and was lurking around the corner, wanting to catch of glimpse of the same person who had been occupying his thoughts lately, god knew why. You scurried along to the bathroom, but a giant (idiot) blocked your way.

“Yukhei, will you kindly move from the way?” You feigned politeness.

“Let me think about it.” He put on his best thinking face. “No.”

You let out a desperate sigh. An uncanny idea struck you. You pulled up the strings of your thong (black this time) and tried again.

“Please?” You made a pouty face to complete the trick.

That was enough to destabilize him, and he moved aside to compose himself. An accomplished smile adorned your face and you hurried to be reunited with your long-lost friend: the shower. You absentmindedly hummed some tunes while you were enjoying some much-needed “me” time and before long, you felt your muscles relax and (some of) your worries evaporate through thin air. Once you felt thoroughly clean and at ease, you shut off the water and reached for your towel which, oddly enough, wasn’t where you had left it. You looked around the room and what you saw make you gasp in utter shock.

“Looking for this?” Yukhei dangled your towel from his hand as his other held the door shut. He eyed you from top to bottom, clearly enjoying every inch of your naked form.

“Yukhei, this isn’t funny give it back!” You tried to cover yourself up as best as you could, but you did only have two arms.

He walked over to where you were standing with a dangerous look on his face. He gently removed your arms from their position on your body and eyed you for the second time.

“Don’t hide from me, love.”

You were lost for words. Suddenly all you could feel was the warmth emanating from his body and frankly, yours too. He delicately grabbed your hand in his and positioned you so you were facing the mirror. He was standing behind you, fully clothed. His hand gently moved your hair to the side, careful to merely grazed your skin leaving goosebumps in his wake. Never in a million years would you have thought that Lucas Wong could have this much effect on you, but here you were.

His hand delicately trailed your body and when you titled your head back in pleasure, any trace of hesitance left his movements. His hand caressed your breasts, flicking a nipple here and there, and descended your chest to your belly until they were where he wanted them. He slipped a finger into and you lost your balance. You had never noticed how damn long his fingers were, but you weren’t complaining. Yukhei was pleased to be met with your own arousal and slipped a second finger in, leaving you gasping for air. Before long, he developed a rhythm and watched avidly as your reflection in the mirror guided him through it. He only stopped after you came, the sight of you being a moaning mess before (and for) him a sight he wouldn’t soon forget. He helped you stabilize yourself and licked your juices off his fingers while maintaining eye contact with you. He smirked when he saw your confused expression but didn’t bother offering an explanation.

“You might want to shower again.” He paused. “Later though, ‘cause I’m far from being done with you.”

You gulped at his demanding tone, but your curiosity was piqued. If his dick was as good as his fingers, you were indeed going to be in for a ride. And boy, was it one hell of a ride.

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wasteitonserendipity · 6 years ago

Text

Gummies (Part Two)

(A/N: hello lovelies! It’s finally done! After months of writers block I have finally finished the part two! I hope you all enjoy it and as always feedback is always welcome (please be nice, I’m smol and fragile))

Genre: fluff and more angst that I originally intended (I’m sorry!)

Paring: Jungkook x reader

Word Count: 2.7K

8AM

“You’re sure you have everything?” Jisoo asked as she helped you buckle in Ji Ah’s booster seat.

“Yes, I’m fairly certain I have everything,” you replied, doing a quick mental checklist.

Car seat? Check.

Sunscreen? Check.

Allergy medication, just in case? Check.

Games to play in the car? Check.

Snacks? Check.

You and Jungkook had been dating for a few months now and he insisted that it was time for a vacation, not only for you but for Ji Ah as well. He even offered up his family’s house on the beach in an attempt to get you to say yes. Which of course, you did. A whole three days of sun, sand and him shirtless? That was a HELL yes.

“Are you sure you don’t need your live in babysitter to come with,” Jisoo started, “ya know, if you and the man want some time alone?”

“Jisoo,” you laughed, patting her on the shoulder, “we get plenty of alone time here. Remember I told you I owed you a night to yourself and a giant bottle of wine? Well, now you get three nights and there are three bottles of your favorite in the fridge.”

Her eyes went wide at the sound of that

“You bought me three bottles?!” She shrieked with joy, hugging you.

“Yes, I did,” you chuckled, squeezing her back, “you do so much for Ji Ah and I, I feel like even that isn’t enough to repay you. Maybe you can call Seokjin to come help you polish off those bottles?”

You wiggled your eyebrows at her. You could see the sparks between her and Jungkook’s roommate the first time they met. They bonded over their love of cooking and horrible, horrible dad jokes and you were convinced It had to have been fate.

“I doubt he’s available,” she sighed, “but doesn’t hurt to ask right?”

“Exactly,” you grinned with a wink.

You made your way back into the apartment where Jungkook was entertaining Ji Ah by playing Mario Kart. Neither of them had noticed you come in, you leaned against the doorway watching them fondly. Ji Ah was sat in Jungkook’s lap, his large frame shielding hers as they battled.

In the few months that you’d been together, Jungkook spent a lot of time at your place. He told you that he felt it was important to establish a good relationship with Ji Ah so that she always felt stable. You appreciated the fact that he was willing to be in her life that much but there was always that twinge of hesitation when it came to her getting so attached to him. You knew he wanted to be around for the “long haul”, whatever that meant, but it was always in the back of your mind that there was a real possibility of him not being around someday.

“Oppa! You cheated!” Ji Ah’s cry bringing you out of your thought bubble.

You laughed when you saw the toddlers face scrunched up in the same bunny fashion as your boyfriends.

“I did not!” Jungkook laughed, “that’s what the blue shell is for!”

Ji Ah continued to pout until Jungkook lifted her out of his lap and up over his head, her squeals filling the room.

“Oppa, put me down!” She giggled, her arms and legs flailing.

“Not until you smile!” He said in an animated voice and he swung her around.

“I am, I am!” She laughed, “see??”

She smiled her adorable “I can get whatever I want” smile at him and he brought her down, resting her on his hip. You could see the fondness in his eyes as he gave her a squeeze before putting her down.

“You still cheated though,” Ji Ah said with a shit eating grin before finally seeing you.

“Unnie!” She squealed, jumping into your embrace, “are we going now?”

“Yes, little one, we’re going now,” you smiled, “Jisoo Unnie is gonna get you into the car, go find her, she’s in the kitchen.”

With loud “okay!” she darted out of the room, leaving you and Jungkook alone. He quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“I didn’t cheat, just saying,” he pouted into your hair.

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes, “that’s what the blue ones for.”

“It is! It’s not my- anyways,” he sputtered as you snaked your arms around his neck, “is the car all ready to go?”

You laughed and nodded before giving him a quick peck.

“Let’s get this show on the road!” he exclaimed before making a quick exit.

12PM

You sat on the banks of the beach watching as Ji Ah and Jungkook splashed around in the shallow water, looking as happy as can be. As much as you loved the water, you felt like spectating today, perfectly content with sitting under the big umbrella you’d brought with. You went back and forth between having your nose in the newest ebook you downloaded and fondly watching the two most important people in your life have an absolute ball.

On the ride over Jungkook made you promise that you’d loosen up a little bit, just relax and have fun for the long weekend and that everything was already taken care of. His parents knew that you’d be there over the weekend so they made sure that the house was fully stocked with everything you three could possibly need down to the exact popsicles that Ji Ah loved. You kept insisting on paying them back for everything they’d bought but he shook his head with a small smile and simply brushed it off.

“Unnie!” Ji Ah yelled from the water’s edge, “it’s your turn, come play!”

You set down your tablet, grabbed your sun hat and made your way to the water. You stopped about three feet in front of them, noticing the mischievous looks on their faces.

“Don’t you-“ you started before a screaming Ji Ah And Jungkook were changing at you full force.

You turned on your heels and tried to make your way back up the beach, but your legs were no match for your boyfriends long ones. Before you knew it you were being thrown over his shoulder, your baby sister maniacally giggling and clapping her hands as you were being toted towards the water.

“Jeon Jungkook, I swear if you throw me in I will end you!” You half shrieked half laughed.

“I’d love to see you try, babe,” he said haughtily before smacking your ass and flinging you into the water.

The bright side was that the water was a comfortable temperature due to the summer heat. The downside was that you now had to drown your boyfriend.

When you surfaced you sprang up like some kind of crazed dolphin, latching on to his torso and began your tickle assault.

“Hey!” He laughed between gasps, “that’s-not-fair!”

“Then surrender traitor!” You bellowed as Ji Ah continued to giggle hysterically.

“Okay! Okay! I surrender!” Jungkook chuckled as he brought you around so that you were in front of him. He wrapped an arm around your waist, looking at you so fondly that it made your heart swell.

“Don’t kiss!” Ji Ah whined looking up at you.

You sighed and giggled before covering her eyes to steal one quick kiss.

5PM

To yours, and Jungkook's surprise, his parents made an appearance around mid afternoon. They said they were back in town for the night and wanted to have dinner with you guys, his dad bribing you both with the promise of good red wine and steak. Hard to say no to that.

As Jungkook and his father manned the grill and had their guy time, you were busy in the kitchen with his mother, Ji Ah sitting at the counter alternating between watching you cook and coloring.

“So, ——,” his mother chimed as you both sliced up veggies for the salad, “Jungkookie has told us so much about you. He said you’re studying psychology?”

“I am,” you smile, “my emphasis is in child psych.”

“You want to be a therapist?” She asked warmly.

“I do,” you sighed and nodded, “after everything that happened with our parents, I saw the good therapy can do for kids in less than ideal situations, even kids as young as Ji Ah. I want to be able to help as many of them as possible.”

“That’s a very honorable thing to want to pursue,” she said with a soft smile, “I’m glad Jungkookie has found someone with the same kind of drive and passion as him. And to have that while taking care of a little one as well? You’re a remarkable person, ____”

“Thank you,” you bowed your head as you continued cooking, “to be honest, the last few months have been easier thanks to Jungkook. I was suprised that he didn’t run for his life when I told him about our situation. Ji Ah absolutely adores him, too.”

“I know the feeling is mutual,” his mother said with a smile, “he’s very fond of you both. And I’m glad that you got to spend this time together before he leaves.”

“I’m sorry,” your motions stop altogether, “before he leaves?”

She looked at you with concern now, like she’d let something slip that she wasn’t supposed to.

“Oh,” she said quietly, “I think I’ve said too much. He should really be the one to tell you, dear.”

8PM

You’d managed to push the conversation you had with Mrs. Jeon into the back of your mind through dinner and after dinner drinks but now that his parents were gone and Ji Ah was passed out on the couch hugging her favorite plushie, now seemed like the right time.

You found him sitting on the swing on the back porch that overlooked the ocean, seemingly deep in thought.

“You look like you could use this,” you chuckled, handing him a glass of wine.

“Thanks, jagi,” he nodded as he took it from you.

You sat down next to him, his arm falling into the comfortable position behind you like it always did. The silence around you was both comforting and deafening at the same time.

“When do you leave?” you finally asked, avoiding the reaction on his face.

“Who-,” he began.

“Your mom let it slip while we were cooking,” you sighed, taking a sip of your wine, “she didn’t tell me what kind of leaving but she mentioned it.”

“I’m sorry,” he said with a heavy sigh, “I should’ve told you sooner,”

You stared out into the dark night, the sound of waves hitting the shore being the only sign of life. You were unbelievably calm for some reason and that scared you and Jungkook equally.

“When?” you asked again, steadying your breathing.

“A few weeks after graduation,” he said quietly, “it seemed like the right time honestly, that way when I get out I still have the rest of my twenties to be with you guys. This way it’s a little less traumatic for Ji Ah too.”

When I get out.

You knew what that meant.

He was enlisting. Two years mandatory military service.

He took your hand as you fought back tears. It wasn’t that he was enlisting, everyone male you knew over a certain age did and everyone came back in one piece. It was that he didn’t tell you. It almost felt as if you were being abandoned again.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you asked, still not looking at him.

“Babe,” he said, lifting your chin with a finger so that you were now looking into his big eyes, “you have so much on your plate already, I didn’t want to burden you with something that really isn’t a big deal. We still have months before I have to leave. We still have Ji Ah’s birthday, graduation, and then a few weeks after graduation. I was actually planning on telling you this weekend, I just wanted us to have some amazing memories under our belst before we had to tackle serious stuff.”

You nodded silently. You knew that he was right. This was something that was already written into everyone’s story and if anything you two would come out on the other end stronger than you were before. You sat in silence with your head on his shoulder for a little bit longer, taking in and remembering all of the amazing moments you two had shared since meeting.

“There’s something else,” he said, reaching into his pocket.

Your eyes went wide.

“Jeon Jungkook,” you said hurriedly, “don’t you fucking dare,”

“Calm down,” he chuckled, “it’s not what you think, sort of.”

He pulled out a simple ring with a single pink pearl in the middle of the band and held it out in front of you.

“It’s not an engagement ring,” he said upfront, “it’s more like a promise ring.”

You sighed in relief, “oh, thank god. I don’t think I could process anymore insanity tonight.”

You took the ring from his hand and slipped it on your right ring finger.

“It’s a promise that when I get back that we’ll be together,” he smiled that bunny smile, “I’m not saying we get married right when I get out but more that we get to start our adult life together.”

“That sounds like a plan to me,” you smiled, kissing him lightly.

“Plus, you know I’d have to ask Ji Ah for permission first anyways,” he laughed.

You laughed along with him.

For the first time in a long time your future wasn’t exactly clear, but you were okay with that. You knew that as long as it was with Jungkook that everything would be okay.

TWO YEARS LATER

“Ji Ah we gotta go!” you yelled up the stairs.

You looked at yourself in the hallway mirror one more time, smoothing down your dress.

In the two years since Jungkook had been gone you’d managed to find an amazing job working as a family therapist, bought a house with an adorable backyard in a great neighborhood and Ji Ah was now enrolled in the first grade. She was a smart little one but you knew that she was bound to be a handful soon with how mature she was for her age.

“Coming, Unnie!” she called from her room. You could hear her little feet pattering around her room. You knew she was putting the finishing touches on the surprise welcome home sign she’d made for Jungkook.

Today was the day you’d both been waiting for, for 730 days and counting.

Jungkook was finally coming home.

You’d been able to video chat with him a few times and visit the base when he was there over the past few years, but the fact that he was coming home and staying hit differently. You knew how he’d aged during his service but he always seemed to keep that bunny smile and happy go lucky attitude about him, which made your heart swell.

After another ten minutes of corralling Ji Ah into the car and an hour and a half drive you’d finally made it to the military base. For some reason you were nervous, turning the pearl ring on your finger as you waited with the rest of the families. Ji Ah was buzzing as she held her “welcome home” sign next to you.

And then you finally saw him. He was carrying his rucksack and dressed in his fatigues, his hair shorter of course and his jaw somehow looked more angular than before. As soon as he saw you both it appeared, that bunny smile you loved so much and you could feel the tears threatening to leave your eyes. As soon as he was within ten feet of you Ji Ah launched herself into his arms in a mess of giggles and i miss you kisses.

You smiled widely watching them like no time had passed at all. Once he put Ji Ah down his arms were wrapped around you they way you’d been dreaming about every single night.

“I’ve missed you so much love,” he said into your hair.

“You have no idea,” you sighed looking up at him.

(tags! @jeonsweetpea, @personawife, @everygay6, @gashinabts, @strawbxxymilk, @yoonsgiggle, @jeon-shi)

#bts writing #jungkook writing #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #college!jk #college!bts #bts angst #jungkook x reader

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justheretobreakthings · 7 years ago

Text

The Least of These - Chapter 3

(Previous Chapter) (Next Chapter)

Word Count: 2,489 (Total Word Count: 10,290) Read on AO3

Story Summary:

There have been plenty of people throughout the universe who weren’t exactly keen on the idea of a half-Galra being a paladin of Voltron. Why should things be any different on Earth?

It took Keith a while to track down Shiro. He had initially just called his phone to ask his whereabouts, but it had gone straight to voicemail, so either the phone was turned off or the battery was dead, so he had to go about finding him the old-fashioned way. A search of the team’s living quarters, the Garrison’s cafeteria and gym, and their usual meeting rooms yielded no results, but he finally ran into Sam when he checked in one of the Atlas research labs. “You just missed him,” Sam told him. “Got called over to the communications wing not half a minute ago.”

Keith thanked him and went on his way, making it to the indicated wing and peering into door windows in search of a familiar tuft of white hair. He eventually spotted it through the door to the public relations office, and marched inside without preamble.

The place was surprisingly loud, and crowded. Phones were ringing, voices were going at a mile a minute, the office block was flooded in gray uniforms, some sitting two to a desk. Obviously the staff was being kept busy at the moment. Shiro was in the middle of the bustle, in a low but fervent conversation with Hannegan, a person whose presence was really starting to grate on Keith’s nerves, and one of the other officers who had met with him a few days back - Mendoza, if he recalled correctly.

He was the one speaking as Keith approached. “ - doesn’t come down to a matter of morality,” he was saying. “That’s not the issue here. We didn’t - ”

“Keith, what are you doing here?” Shiro asked, turning suddenly away from Mendoza mid-sentence and leaving the latter scowling.

“I was looking for you,” Keith answered. “Wanted to, um, chat.”

“It will have to wait,” Mendoza said. “We’re busy.”

“Perhaps if you gentlemen would like to step into my office?” said Hannegan. “Give us a bit more privacy?”

“Is this about Shiro’s speech?” Keith asked.

Mendoza sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, some privacy would probably be best,” he said, ignoring Keith’s question entirely. “If you’ll come this way…”

Keith made to follow as the others began to move, but Mendoza turned to him and said, “I’ll have to ask you to wait, Kogane. This doesn’t concern you.”

“If it’s about the speech, yes, it does,” Keith said, crossing his arms.

“Mr. Kogane - ”

“You may as well bring him along,” Shiro said. “Whatever you want to say to me, I’ll probably having to pass it along to the rest of the team anyway. Save me a trip.”

Mendoza set his jaw and muttered something Keith couldn’t quite make out before saying, “Fine. Hannegan, lead the way.”

The little group moved to an adjacent office, the busy sounds from the rest of the office block muffled as Hannegan shut the door behind him. He took a seat behind a desk bearing his nameplate, and Keith and Shiro both sank into chairs against the office’s wall. Mendoza remained standing.

“If you must know, Mr. Kogane,” Hannegan said as soon as they were all seated. “Yes, we were discussing the matter of Mr. Shirogane’s… conduct, at last night’s ceremony. As we were explaining to him before you interrupted, the general consensus regarding the contents of his little improvisation were rather, ah, mixed.”

“It seems that someone has forgotten that the words we speak into a microphone don’t exist in a vacuum,” Mendoza added. “Actions have consequences. Immediate and palpable ones, at that.”

“Consequences?” Keith repeated. “What, you’re - you’re punishing Shiro?”

“No, no!” Hannegan said hastily, at the same time as Mendoza’s flat reply of, “We don’t have that authority.”

“Our fine officers here,” Shiro said, turning to Keith, “Just seem to feel that I’ve painted the Garrison in a bad light, and want to make me aware of it.”

“Look, Mr. Shirogane - ” Hannegan started.

“Captain,” Shiro cut him off. Keith raised a brow at him. For all the time he’d known Shiro, he couldn’t remember any time he’d ever insisted on being addressed by his rank, not since returning to Earth from Voltron, nor during his time on Earth before the Kerberos mission. Even back then, it had still always been weird to hear people call him ‘Lieutenant Shirogane’, and he’d let everyone get away with just calling him ‘Shiro’ instead when no other officers were around.

Hannegan’s eyes flashed in annoyance, and he cleared his throat. “Right. Captain Shirogane. I understand and respect that you were only trying to do a nice thing for your friend, but I don’t think that you are being fully appreciative of the consequences for the Garrison of that speech your made.”

“Enlighten me, then,” Shiro said, crossing his arms casually over his chest.

“First of all,” Mendoza said, “Let me make one thing clear to you: We did not ‘start’ this issue. The Garrison did not ‘start’ this issue. The Galaxy Garrison has been nothing but supportive to the Voltron crew since the moment you landed. And I should emphasize that this support was for all the paladins of Voltron.”

“You call kicking Keith out of a medal ceremony ‘supportive’?”

“We did not kick him out!” Hannegan said in practically a groan, bringing a hand up to rub his fingertips to his temple. “We came to a mutual agreement that - ”

“It’s not ‘mutual’ if you were the ones who - ” Shiro started, and Keith glanced down as Shiro put a reassuring hand on his knee.

“Captain Shirogane,” Mendoza cut him off, “You’ve apparently already made your opinion on that matter clear, and it’s beside the point. The decision made regarding Keith’s presence or lack thereof at yesterday’s ceremony had nothing to do with our personal feelings toward him or Voltron. It was in response to a controversy that, and I cannot emphasize this enough, the Garrison did not start. Keeping Keith out of the limelight was a means to keep the paladins safe, and the discussion of reconstruction efforts secure and peaceful. We were trying to keep the focus on issues besides the conflict of whether to accept Galra allies on Earth.”

Shiro scowled. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but shouldn’t working in cooperation with the Galra be a central part of our reconstruction, not a separate issue?”

“It’s an adjacent issue, not central,” Mendoza answered. “The most important alliance we should be focusing on during our planet’s reconstruction is the unification of Earth’s population itself, between countries as well as within communities. Our relations with other planets comes second, and even then, we have made leeway with planet populations that have been nothing but peaceful with us. Establishing positive relations with the Olkari or the Balmerans is higher priority for our purposes. The Galra, though? Really, our goal right now is more civility than active cooperation. You cannot reasonably expect the people of Earth to be able to transition immediately from being violently oppressed by the Galra to being willing to work alongside them.”

“The Galra we’re working alongside are not the same Galra who hurt our planet,” Shiro said.

“We know that,” Hannegan replied, exasperated. “You are wasting your breath lecturing to us about that, Captain. We know. But the people who don’t? They’re not going to be swayed by a pretty speech, and you cannot blame them for not being enthusiastic about being told they need to immediately move past the negativity they are harboring due to the hurt they have been caused in order to make the Galra feel welcome.”

“They’re going to have to eventually,” Shiro said. “And don’t you think that getting to see some media exposure of the Galra who are doing good for the planet would be an ideal place to start? Especially in the case of Keith.” Keith himself squirmed in his seat as the officers’ eyes moved to him and Shiro continued, “He’s half-Galra, half-human. A middle ground, basically a bridge between the two. If anyone could ease people into being more comfortable with the idea of working alongside the Galra - ”

“That’s all well and good,” Mendoza said, “But you are overlooking the point. The ceremony last night was not about human-Galra relations or tolerance. You are the one who decided to place the focus there. Yes, it’s fine to want to gradually introduce Earth to the idea of cooperation with the Galra, but that was not the time nor the platform for it. And it was not the time for the Garrison to publicly make a stand on the issue. But because of your little speech, the whole world thinks we have.”

Shiro set his jaw. “You made a stand on the issue the moment you insisted on Keith sitting out. And you can’t seriously think this is something you could have stayed neutral on.”

“Not including Keith in the ceremony was a security precaution,” Hannegan said. “It was never a matter of - ”

“Oh, security precaution my ass,” Shiro spat, and Keith’s jaw dropped as he turned to stare at Shiro. “You can’t honestly believe that having Keith around posed any threat to - ”

“He did,” Mendoza interrupted in practically a growl.

Shiro paused, brow furrowing. “What are you talking about?”

“Like I told you, there were consequences to your speech,” Mendoza said. “We were trying to keep the whole debate about working with the Galra contained. You not only brought it out to center stage, but you painted the whole issue as if the Garrison has made its stance against the Galra, and that you, the Atlas, and Voltron are in opposition to us. First of all, this makes it look as if even within this facility, we are unable to come together and cooperate for the sake of Earth’s reconstruction. Considering that this was the very focus of last night’s ceremony, you can imagine how poorly that reflects on our efforts and what a hit that was for morale.”

“But - ”

“Second of all, now that, according to you, everyone has taken sides, people now want to weigh in with their own opinions, and they do not do so subtly. The Garrison has already been stirring up a fair bit of criticism, but are you aware that you have also managed to stir up those who are opposed to working with the Galra? Are you aware that the Garrison has been upping security around the campus and the Atlas throughout the morning because we have received multiple threats, to the Garrison as a whole, to the Atlas, and to you, specifically?”

Shiro was silent.

“No,” Mendoza said, “You weren’t. Because you did not consider that possibility when you insisted on flaunting your moral high ground last night.”

Out of the corner of his eye Keith could see Shiro’s fingers curling into fist at his side, but otherwise, he kept his composure. “And what exactly do you suggest I do about that now?” Shiro asked grimly.

“The Garrison’s PR department is doing its best to try to refocus the media on our reconstruction campaigns,” Hannegan said, and there was a tired dryness to his voice. “But we can’t exactly erase the attention that the issue about the Galra has now received. So now, it seems we’re going to have to be redirecting resources to dealing with that media brouhaha.”

“Which, of course, is going to take away from the focus we were supposed to give to the reconstruction efforts,” Mendoza grumbled. “But, hey, as long as Captain Shiro’s happy, that’s the priority, right?”

Keith glared at him, and spoke up for the first time since they’d come into the office. “If you have some sort of problem with Shiro - ”

“We’ve actually been giving the matter some consideration,” Hannegan loudly interrupted. Keith redirected his glare to him; the man could have at least tried to be subtle about yanking them back onto the topic at hand. “For the time being, in order to seem as neutral as possible, we’re going to limit Voltron’s media presence as much as possible. We’ve cancelled a panel scheduled for next week and a radio interview meant for Saturday. Our official statement is that the paladins are refocusing their time and efforts into the reconstruction, and will thus be too busy for press appearances. We’re working with a couple of select photographers to attain exclusive ‘candid’ footage of the paladins at cleanup and relief sites to corroborate. In the meantime, we’ll look for a different time to reintroduce Keith to the media. Perhaps some event involving the Lions? That way, his presence would appease those who approve of Galra cooperation, and to those who don’t, it would simply seem a necessity, as he is the only one who can pilot the Black Lion, correct?”

Keith and Shiro glanced toward each other. “Yeah,” Keith said. “Yeah, that’s - that’s correct.”

“Good.” Hannegan stood from his desk. “I’ll get in touch as soon as more details are arranged. In the meantime, I advise that you both focus on your work with Voltron and the Atlas. The public relations department will handle this as best we can. And Captain Shirogane?”

“Yes?”

“I know that you are not under my command, so I suppose this is not an order, but please - if anyone in the press does somehow make contact with you over this issue, we ask that you give no comment. We’re trying to douse these flames, not fan them.”

Shiro’s lips flattened into a thin line as he nodded brusquely and stood to leave. Keith followed after him, and there were no goodbyes exchanged with the officers before they were marching out of the office, then out of the communications wing.

The moment the sounds from the offices had completely faded, Shiro stopped in his tracks to lean against the wall with a sigh, letting his eyes drift closed. “Sorry about all that,” he said to Keith.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” Keith said. He leaned against the wall beside Shiro.

Shiro opened one eye to raise a brow toward Keith. “Uh, everything Hannegan and the other one were talking about in there? Last thing I wanted to do was get you all mixed up in any sort of media firestorm.”

“Yeah, well…” Keith sighed. “Probably would have happened one way or another anyway. Apparently people have already been getting stirred up about this stuff, just were waiting on a reason to get loud about it.”

“Still,” Shiro said.

“... For what it’s worth,” Keith said slowly. “I’m, um - I’m glad you said it. The stuff you said in the speech. Pidge showed me a video of it. I think - I think a lot of people needed to hear.” He sighed again. “I kinda think maybe I did too. So, you know… thanks.”

“Anytime,” Shiro said.

“So… what now?”

“Now…” Shiro straightened up from the wall and stretched. “Now, I think I want to take a nap.”

“Mind if I join?”

“Be my guest.”

#keith #shiro #vld keith #vld shiro #vldgen #my writing #fic: the least of these

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spine-buster · 7 years ago

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I Thought You Might Be Mine (Ricochet) - Part 5.5

February 8th, 2018 Orlando, Florida

On a chilly winter’s day in the beginning of February, while Iris Capshaw spoke with Tommaso and Christopher outside of the rings, the last thing she thought she would hear was, “There’s the bitch I gotta talk to.”

When Iris spun around to locate the voice, she saw Tessa Blanchard making her way towards her, a determined and angry look on her face. It was then that Iris realized she was the bitch Tessa was looking for, and the bitch Tessa wanted to talk to.

“Tessa? What are you doing he --”

“Don’t play fucking dumb with me,” Tessa growled as she got into Iris’s personal space, causing Iris to back up a few steps defensively.

Immediately, Chris and Tommaso moved to separate Tessa away from her, pulling Iris back even more. “Hey Trev…Trevor!” Chris called out from behind her, yelling loud enough so Trevor, who was on the other side of the room in another ring, could hear – and if he couldn’t, at least the word would get out. “Someone get Trevor!”

“For such a smart bitch you always play fucking dumb. That act is over,” Tessa warned.

“What are you talking about?”

“You think you can just waltz around here and pretend you don’t know? You know what the fuck is going on, Iris. You know what this is about.”

Iris honestly had no idea, and was getting more scared every second. She knew the men surrounding her would intervene if anything was to happen, but that didn’t stop the nerves. Tessa could absolutely whoop her ass if she wanted to – easily. Like, it wouldn’t even be a fight. Not that Iris would get into a fight. But Tessa was definitely looking for one.

“Tessa, I honestly have no clue what you’re talking about,” Iris said as calmly as she could. “What’s going on?”

Tessa pursed her lips before chuckling to herself and rolling her eyes. “Such a dumb bitch,” she muttered. In a flash second, her expression changed from annoyed back to angry. Before Iris could comprehend what was happening, she felt Tessa shove her violently, causing Iris to stumble back into Tommaso who had blocked her from crashing into the ring apron.

‘Hey hey hey hey! Whoa whoa whoa! Tessa! Tessa get out of here! Tessa what the fuck?! Hey now!’ Iris heard a flurry of voices as Tommaso caught her. Wrestlers from the nearby ring dispersed to be on the frontlines of the situation. Out of the corner of her eye, Iris noticed John Gargano jump out of the ring and throw himself in between her and Tessa.

“Tessa, what the fuck are you doing?!” John demanded.

“This fucking bitch knows what she did!” Tessa exclaimed.

Before anyone could say anymore, the one person who both women wanted to be there – needed to be there – showed up, clearly fuming. “The hell’s going on here?” Trevor demanded. When he saw Iris so close to Tommaso, John in between the women, and the look of pure hatred on Tessa’s face, he got a general idea. This was happening. This was really happening at the Performance Centre. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded from Tessa.

“It was Iris all along, wasn’t it?” Tessa demanded. “She’s one of the girls you fucked with, isn’t she?”

“Tessa --”

Oh. Oh. So this was happening right now. In front of everybody. Iris couldn’t believe that everybody at the Performance Centre was going to be privy to this. The thought of them watching, seeing, hearing everything made her skin crawl. “We never --” Iris tried to get a word in.

“I didn’t ask you, bitch,” Tessa growled at Iris.

“ENOUGH!” Trevor screamed at his ex-girlfriend. From behind Trevor, Iris watched as none other than William fucking Regal entered the fold, pushing trainees out of the way so he could see what the commotion was. She felt like she was going to throw up. “You think I was hooking up with all these other girls --”

“You were, Trevor! And she was probably your main fuck, wasn’t she?” Tessa nodded her head in Iris’s direction. “Just tell the truth for once in your life, asshole!”

“You want the fucking truth? Here’s the fucking truth,” he growled, staring down his ex-girlfriend. “Every time I begged for something to happen with Iris, literally begged, on my hands and fucking knees, she rejected me. Every. Fucking. Time. I wish to God something had happened between the two of us so I wouldn’t have had to put up with this!”

And there it was, out in the open. In front of all his peers, bosses, and trainers, Trevor had taken the bullet for her. He made himself look like the bad guy. He lied, of course – but only he and Iris knew that. On record now, in front of some of the most important people in the wrestling industry, he took the brunt of the blame.

“I don’t believe you,” Tessa spat at Trevor, shaking her head. She turned to look towards Iris. “You’re a fucking snake. I know you two hooked up--”

“Tessa, for the love of God, I’m engaged!” Iris finally found her voice. She threw up her hand to show her ring, as if everyone crowded around them didn’t already know. “You know! You know I’ve been engaged since last year!”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“Of course it matters! God, Tessa, stop projecting your insecurities onto me!”

That apparently hit a chord, because Tessa’s face scrunched up in anger again, and for a moment, Iris thought she would battle through John and Tommaso for another shot at her. It wasn’t until William Regal stepped forward that Iris felt a miniscule safer – but she didn’t put it past Tessa to bypass him and lunge at her. Especially considering how mad she was. “Miss Blanchard, I think it’s time you leave now,” William Regal said in as calm a voice as he could muster.

Tessa looked at Regal, the anger from her face relaxing slightly. “Can’t believe this place hired such a slut.”

“Get out of here now, Tessa. I mean it. I will not have you insult one of my employees,” Regal continued.

There was a moment of pause, everybody on edge looking at Tessa, before she let out a chuckle. She shrugged her shoulders, holding her hands up in defeat. She turned around, moving to walk out, and the crowd that had formed around them made a path for her exit. When she was near the end, she turned to look at the rings. By this point, everybody was watching the commotion, even if they had stayed in their designated rings. “Watch out ladies!” Tessa announced to everyone who was listening. Iris gulped. “Keep your men close! You never know who’s gonna steal them from right under you. Make sure they go nowhere near the company cum bucket.”

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, TESSA!!!” Trevor completely exploded at her words.

Iris didn’t see or hear much else. Her hands shot up to her face as she felt tears well up in her eyes faster than they ever had before she left abruptly, running away from the situation completely. She felt horrible. She felt dirty. She felt sick. She felt like someone had just punched her in the gut and kicked her in the ribs and all she could do was sit there and take it.

It had been almost once year since March 31st, 2017, and every day since then, Iris played mental games with herself about whether or not she was responsible for what had happened that night. She had never asked Trevor for proof that he and Tessa had broken up. She never asked any of their mutual friends to see if it was true. She didn’t ask him to stop all his touching and cuddling. She didn’t stop herself, either. She didn’t derail the conversation or ask for it to end before they started kissing. She didn’t do anything. She didn’t do anything.

She was already engaged. He wasn’t in a relationship.

She was the bad guy here. She was the bad guy. And if Trevor lied to her, if he and Tessa were still together at that time…well, then, she deserved everything that happened. She deserved every bit of it. Without question. If Tommaso hadn’t been behind her when Tessa shoved her and she crashed into the ring apron back first, she would have deserved it. If Tessa had punched her across the face, she would have deserved it. If Tessa had dragged her by the hair through the Performance Centre, all the way outside, and thrown her in the lake, she would have deserved it. No question.

If Trevor had lied to her, she was going to lose it.

As Iris made her way back towards her office, her hands were shaky as she found the phone number of the only person who would be able to give her answers. The only person able to guard a secret with his life, but with enough morals to share that secret when it was called for.

And right now, it was called for.

“Whaddup, chick?” Dustin answered his phone after only three rings.

“Were Tessa and Trevor together at Rev Pro last year in Orlando?” Iris asked immediately, not bothering with niceties.

“What?”

“Tessa and Trevor. Were they together last year in Orlando? At that Rev Pro show?”

“What’s it matter?”

“Answer me!” she demanded.

“Iris, how the hell am I supposed to know?! I wasn’t at that show!” he exclaimed. “What the hell is going on?”

“March 31st, 2017,” Iris recited the date by memory. “Orlando, Florida. Dustin, were they together or not? Tell me.”

“March 31st? Definitely not. They had a huge blowout just after Valentines and didn’t get back together until, like, mid-April as far as I know. They were back together by my birthday on April 22nd,” he informed her. “Iris, what the hell is going on? What’s wrong?”

Before she could answer him, the door swung open and Trevor barged in the room. She immediately hung up her phone, leaving Dustin high and dry. She threw her phone into her chair as she glared at him.

Trevor shut the door half way before moving to walk towards her. “Baby --”

“Don’t you fucking – don’t!” she warned, backing up from Trevor’s advances. He looked absolutely shocked that she didn’t want him close to her. It was probably the first time ever that was the case. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare! What the fuck what that?!”

“I don’t know! How would I know?!” he threw his arms out in confusion.

“You fucking promised me Trevor. You promised. You told me you two weren’t together --”

“We weren’t! We weren’t together,” he reassured her, trying to grab her hand.

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” she snapped, snatching her hand away from him violently. The tears began to fall down her cheeks as she tried desperately to maintain her composure. “Don’t you fucking dare lie to me, Trevor! Were you two together or not?”

“NO!” he screamed out. “No! We weren’t! I promise you! I didn’t lie to you! I would never lie to you!”

“Trevor, I swear to fucking God --”

“When have I ever lied to you, Iris? I’ve been honest with you from the beginning!”

“Then be honest with me now!”

“We broke up after Valentine’s Day because we had a really bad fight, like I told you. When you came to Rev Pro we were not together,” Trevor explained as calmly as he could. “We had a long talk two weeks later and decided to try one more time right before Dustin’s birthday in Philly. I never cheated on her with you. Ever. I would never do that to her. More importantly I would never do that to you.”

There was a moment of silence between the two, mostly for Iris to internalize what he was saying. Was it just a coincidence that his story matched Dustin’s? Had they collaborated on this story? Or were the two men telling her the absolute truth? “You better not be lying. I swear to God…” she huffed.

“Iris…I love you. You know I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you,” he said quietly, approaching her with incredible patience. The fact that she wasn’t flinching away from him made him feel slightly better about the situation. “You gotta believe me. I’m telling you the truth.”

Iris bit her lip. “I can’t do this right now, Trevor,” she shook her head. “I can’t do this. Not now.”

“Iris--”

“I was just verbally assaulted at my work – in front of my bosses – by one of your ex-girlfriends. I’m probably on the verge of getting fired and I’m going to have to explain to my fiancé it was because Tessa thought I was hooking up with you.”

“Baby --”

Before their conversation could go any further, Iris’s door sung open again, only this time, William Regal was on the other side. When he saw the two in the room together, albeit at least six feet apart, he assessed the situation quickly. “Trevor. Out. Now.”

“But Mr. --”

“Out,” William repeated sternly, not giving Trevor the option of doing much more. After one last look of despair at Iris, he left the room. William shut the door in his face, knowing he would try to eavesdrop anyway. That’s why he enlisted Chris and John to distract him.

William looked at Iris, his expression softening as he noticed her tears. “Talk to me, Iris. Whenever you’re ready…but you need to talk.”

That night, after Iris had calmed down, gone home, and spoken to Ryder on the phone for an hour (who was in Manhattan, of course), Iris had driven the few kilometres to Trevor’s house. He had texted earlier begging her to come over to resolve things, and she had agreed, if only to get clarification from him and to make sure something like that never happened again. She still had no idea how to feel about what had transpired, and didn’t know if she would ever get over it.

When she knocked on his door, he answered it in record time. “Hey baby,” he said, trying to hug her after he closed the door.

She backed away from him. She had to, despite the hurt look on his face. “Trevor…I can’t. Not right now.”

“Baby --”

“Don’t – don’t call me…” Iris shook her head, maintaining her composure. “Trevor, what the fuck happened today?”

“Listen…I don’t know. She’s fucking crazy, okay? She’s nuts. She thought I was cheating on her with you the entire time we were together.”

“She wouldn’t be wrong…”

“She is wrong,” Trevor declared. “We made love once, when Tessa and I were broken up. That’s not cheating.”

“Okay, so only I cheated then,” she made the distinction, rolling her eyes. “Good job reminding me about the fact that I cheated on my fiancé six weeks after we got engaged.”

“Iris – no – stop,” Trevor tried intervening. “This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with her, okay? Listen, we were together, but our relationship was flawed. It wasn’t like I was the only one doing stuff wrong.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that she would be just as bad as I could be sometimes. She would taunt me. She’d send me pictures of her hanging out with other guys while we were on breaks. She’d fucking…fuck!” he swore in frustration.

“You know, the immaturity of both of you is really something else,” Iris shook her head. “I can’t believe how much you two would hurt each other yet continue to get back together despite it all.”

Trevor knew she was right. He and Tessa hurt each other a lot. It was what they did. But now, Tessa had taken it one step further and hurt not just him, but somebody he loved. In front of other people he loved. And he wasn’t going to stand for that. “Listen…I’m really sorry about what happened today. I feel like everything is my fault.”

“Does she know?” Iris asked suddenly.

“What?”

“Does Tessa know?”

“Absolutely not.”

Iris took a deep breath in. “Listen…Trevor…I had to tell William Regal why she barged into the PC and did that.”

“You told William Regal?”

“No!” Iris exclaimed. “I…explained our friendship. And I told him about how far back we go, and how that’s probably why she thought what she did. And he believed me.”

“Why are you telling me this as if it’s bad? It means everything is good…doesn’t it?”

“It means I had to lie to my boss, Trevor,” Iris said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s not exactly something I’m proud of doing. And you! You made yourself look like the bad guy out there in front of everyone.”

“So? I can handle it,” he shrugged his shoulders. “Everybody’s gonna forget about it in a week anyway. And besides, you didn’t exactly look like the bad person. Tessa’s reputation is shot forever.”

Iris took another deep breath as she considered everything. “Trevor…I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.”

“Everything’s gonna be okay, baby,” Trevor said, and for the first time that night, Iris didn’t object at the name. “You’re my best friend, Iris. You know that. That isn’t ever going to change.”

“I just want to make sure something like that never happens again. It was…traumatizing to say the least.”

“It won’t, baby. I’ll make sure of it,” Trevor assured her, extending his arms to hug her. Though she approached slowly, Trevor was grateful that she went into his arms and hugged him back. He held her close against his body. “I love you, baby. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

Iris had two voicemails waiting for her when she left Trevor’s place. When she was out of sight from his place, she pulled over and played them aloud on speaker phone.

“Hey honey, it’s me,” Ryder’s deep voice said. “Just want to make sure everything is good with you. I know you said you had a stressful day at work but I want to make sure there wasn’t anything else. Anyway, you can call me whenever. Um, anytime after maybe like, 9:30, actually. We’re taking a client out to dinner at Bone and it may go long. So anytime after 9:30. I can’t wait until you’re here next weekend. We’re going to have so much fun. Bye.”

She pressed seven to delete it.

New message.

“Hey, it’s Dustin. Trevor kinda updated me on what happened today and I figured that’s why you called to ask me what you did. Um, I didn’t tell him you called me, by the way. And I’m not letting him know I’m calling you now. Anyway…I uh…I don’t know, Iris. I’m really sorry that happened to you. It’s horrible that she came to your work and did that. She’s nuts. But that’s not the issue here. You and Trevor gotta stop hurting each other. I know you’re engaged and all and Ryder seems to be a nice dude, but for the love of fuck, you and Trev have been playing this game for almost 4 years now and it’s tiring. You guys…you guys just need to stop hurting each other, okay? You’re both my friends and I don’t like seeing my friends get hurt, especially over something that can be fixed in about ten minutes with a conversation. I don’t like seeing you two pining over each other and the fact that you’ve been doing this for years is getting exhausting. I know it’s getting exhausting for me. Just stop hurting each other. You both deserve the world and --”

End of message! To replay this message, press three. To erase this message, press seven; to save it, press nine.

Through the tears that had welled up in her eyes, Iris pressed nine.

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