#I swear to god coloring is so hard when four different screens all show the colors slightly different

[busymagpie]

Tea on cold winter days

[sluttywonwoo]

3 nights || jw x reader

summary: a one-night hookup turns into three (based off of the song 3 nights by dominic fike )

warnings: swearing, smut (18+), unprotected sex (uh yeah don’t do that)

word count: 2.2k

a/n: this is an old tom holland piece of mine that i thought would fit wonwoo (my tom holland blog is @wazzupmrstark if you wanna check it out)

masterlist

A hellish smirk tugged at Wonwoo’s lips as he gazed down at his phone in the midst of a pitch meeting. He glanced at the image he’d been sent for a second more before sliding his phone back in his pocket and lifting his head to indicate he was paying attention. But he was distracted. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for Jeon Wonwoo to receive nude pictures from unsaved numbers, but he was pretty sure he knew who this one was from. At least he hoped. You had cropped your face out of it, but from the expanse of your collarbone to the curve of your hip he could recognize the freckles under your breasts and the small scar just below your belly button.

He waited until he was dismissed from the meeting to respond. Didn’t want to seem too eager.  

What did I do to deserve this out of the blue, darling?

You didn’t respond right away. He shouldn’t have been surprised, he hadn’t responded right away, so why would you? You had better things to be doing than sit around waiting for him to text back, but a selfish part of him wished that you were.

You were a bit different from Wonwoo’s other lays, but he didn’t mean that in the nauseating ‘you’re not like other girls’ way that men liked to use to get into a girl’s pants. He didn’t really need to use cheesy, comparative shit like that if he was being honest. All he had to do was send a wyd text at 2am to get a girl to come over. Unless that girl was you.

Of course, you were beautiful, and incredible in bed, but something about you always left him wanting more. Maybe it was the fact that your presence was fleeting, you never stayed very long afterwards. Maybe your elusiveness tugged at a deeper curiosity in the back of his mind that he was unaware of. He was already familiar with every inch of your body, but truthfully he knew very little else about you. and maybe that’s what intrigued him.

Or maybe it was the simplicity. Routine hookups, no strings attached- regardless of how many times you came… over.

Whatever it was that kept you on his mind, Wonwoo didn’t dwell. He pushed all questions and logic away when he was with you. And when he wasn’t… he tried not to think about it. But it was difficult not to when you sent him pictures like that out of nowhere, no context, not even a response.

Ding!

Never mind.

Oops wrong person ;)

Wonwoo let out a low chuckle and shook his head. Of course, there was a small part of him that wondered if you had actually meant to send that to someone else, but he shook it off. If he knew you at all, which granted he really didn’t, he knew this game.

He didn’t hesitate to respond this time.

Shame… was gonna ask if you were busy tonight.

Only a few seconds passed before his phone buzzed again.

What did you have in mind??

You.

It was corny, sure, but effective.

I think I can make something work.

He grinned at the screen and sighed, licking his lips.

9pm. Our place.

-

You hadn’t even taken off your coat by the time he had you up against the door with his mouth on your neck, pressing breathy kisses to your skin. You gasped as he sucked a hickey just under your jaw, closing your eyes and moaning his name.

A seedy motel in the middle of the city wasn’t the… most ideal spot for late night booty calls. The sunset-colored wallpaper was peeling and the showers only worked sometimes, but in the grand scheme of things, location wasn’t important. It was still the best sex of your life, and they had cheap vending machine snacks.

The bed creaked and choked out a cloud of dust when Wonwoo pushed you onto it, but you just laughed and pulled at the waistband of his jeans for him to join you.

He smiled into a kiss that turned desperate. His hands were on your zipper, your bra clasp, your panties, anything to get you undressed faster. You held in a whimper when he sat up to undo his belt, something about the way he did that always drove you crazy. He smirked knowingly as he did and took his time.

You whined impatiently and nudged at him with a knee to hurry up. Thankfully, Wonwoo wasn’t one to leave you hanging and was back on you instantly. He pressed a thigh in between your legs and licked a stripe up the valley of your breasts, choosing the left, his favorite, to nip at.

“Fuck, Wonwoo,” you groaned, grinding up against him.

He paused and lifted himself so that he was hovering above you. “How was your day?”

You rolled your eyes and threw your head back in frustration. “Can we not?”

“I can’t ask you how your day was?”

“That’s not what I’m here for, and you know it.”

“Then what are you here for?” he asked, wanting you to say it out loud. You kissed him instead and took the distraction as an opportunity to pull him by the collar and flip him so that you were on his lap.

You tugged at his jeans and boxers playfully. “This.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Good one.”

“I know.”

He lifted his head to kiss you and you gave in with a quick peck on the lips. As often as you were with Wonwoo, you never took the time to notice how pretty he was. You knew he was hot. You could write an entire dissertation on how fucking fit he was, but as you gazed down at him underneath you you realized just how lovely this boy really was, especially like this. His dark hair was soft and wavy without all the product in it, and god his lips were so pink, and the way he looked at you…

You kissed him again, fiercely this time, and slid a hand down his pants just to feel him. He groaned, already needy.

“Wait-” he pulled back and sat up on his elbows.

“What?” You were worried you’d done something wrong, stared at him like you were in love with him for a second too long and he’d caught on.

“Do you want me to go down on you?”

You sighed in relief and laughed. “No need, I’m already soaked.”

“I can tell,” he quipped back and quirked an eyebrow.

You were a little embarrassed he could feel your arousal through his jeans and cursed. “Fuck you!”

“I believe you were just about to.”

“You’re lucky I’m horny, Wonwoo,” you growled.

“Tell me about it.” He smirked and laid back with an arm over his head.

Sometimes you wondered if the sex was really worth it, even if he was the best you’d ever had…

Of all the ways Wonwoo could fuck you, this had to be one of his favorites. There was just something about you on top of him that he couldn’t handle. The way your delicate gold necklace dangled in his face as you rode him, the way his hands fit so perfectly on your ass, the way your hair hung around your shoulders. He never lasted long.

To be fair, neither did you. And the way Wonwoo was saying your name wasn’t helping. Every time you lowered yourself back on him and his cock hit that spot inside you that burning intensity in your stomach grew a little stronger.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t out of breath and your thighs weren’t starting to get sore, but Wonwoo was begging you not to stop and you’d be damned if you let him down.

“Y/n, I’m close,” he warned and brought his fingers to your clit to make sure you were right there with him.

You just nodded, too far gone to say much else as you chased the high that was just out of reach. Wonwoo thrust up into you a final time and finished with a moan of your name tumbling from his lips.

Even as he was coming down he continued to massage your clit.

“Cum for me, love.” His voice was spent and gravelly and his eyes were pleading and fuck, who were you to deny him? You gripped his shoulders hard as your whole body tensed and you tipped over the edge.

And for a moment the world stopped spinning and time stopped moving as electricity surged through your body and you forgot your own name.

Wonwoo was still whispering words of quiet praise when you collapsed on his chest seconds later, trembling.

“That’s it, darling. That’s good.”

You let him rub your back like that until you caught your breath enough to sit up and roll off of him. You immediately started collecting your clothes from around the room and putting them back on as Wonwoo did the same.

“Two cherry cokes?” he asked and you nodded.

“And powdered donuts?”

“Give me some credit, how could I forget?”

It was something of a tradition to share a snack and a soda after you hooked up. It had started on a night when both of you were too drunk to drive anywhere afterwards so you passed the time sitting in bed eating stale powdered donuts and drinking soda to sober up. Logically, you could have slept it off and went home the next morning, but it was a rule you had to never sleep over at a one-night-stand’s place. Even neutral territory like this was off limits.

Wonwoo could’ve gone to bed without you and left you to fend for yourself but instead he made the trek out to the vending machines in his boxers to get you both some food. Turns out cherry coke was the only soda they had, and there was no telling how old it was, but it was better than nothing.

That night was so long ago, but you still remembered how he stayed up with you until four in the morning watching shitty reality shows on the fuzzy tv, talking about exes and weird dreams and hobbies you both wanted to learn. You wondered if he ever ended up teaching himself pottery.

Wonwoo was back with the goods before you could blink and handed you your respective share of the stash. You held your can up and clinked it against his before taking a sip. You’d grown to like the syrupy sweet taste of it by now, and even found yourself craving it when you weren’t with Wonwoo.

“Same time tomorrow?” Wonwoo asked as you buttoned your pants.

“You’ll still be in town?”

Usually he didn’t stay for long unless he was working on his music so you didn’t let yourself get hopeful just in case he was kidding.

“And the next day,” he confirmed. It was an invitation.

“You’re not one for planning ahead,” you pointed out, gathering the rest of your belongings in your arms.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

-

Wonwoo didn’t sleep well that night. He never did when he wasn’t in his own bed, but this was different. He couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened just hours ago in that run-down motel by the highway and what might happen tomorrow.

His members had been confused when he moved his flight back home two days and he hadn’t given them any other explanation than ‘catching up with friends’ for them to go off of. He had those days off anyway. Seoul would be fine without him until then.  

But uncertainty lingered in his mind. What if you didn’t call? What if you were busy? He knew your world didn’t revolve around him, but he was starting to wish it did. It was stupid, and there were dozens of other people he could call for a quick fuck in this town if you stood him up, but suddenly none of them sounded interesting.

He circled back to that picture you’d sent him earlier and found himself wishing he could see your face.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” he muttered out loud to no one in particular and forced himself to turn his phone off to try and sleep again.

-

The second night was much like the first. Quick sex, donuts, cherry coke. You didn’t even finish your half of the donuts before you were out the door. You expected the third night to be the same, along with that awkward ‘we might never see each other again’ interaction that happens at the end of every fling, but what you got was far from it.

“You should stay.”

You already had one shoe on when he dropped that out of nowhere and-

“What?” was all you could say.

“It’s late, you should stay over. We could get breakfast in the morning or something.”

“Wonwoo, I-”

“You don’t sleep over after one-night-stands, I know.”

“Then why are you asking me?”

“Well, it’s been three nights…” he trailed off.

“But it’s the same arrangement,” you argued.

“What if it wasn’t?”

You put down your other shoe and stood up. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“I have those rules for a reason. I didn’t just make them up for fun. Without them… feelings get hurt. Hearts get broken. Things get complicated.”

“I know.” Wonwoo sighed softly and took a tentative step towards you. “But-”

“But what?”

“But it doesn’t have to be like that,” he finished. “It won’t be like that.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t,” he said honestly. “But there’s a first time for everything.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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[kimnjss]

just hanging out | jjk

⤑  series: cherry pickers

⤑ pairing: gamer(fuckboi)!jungkook x video vixen(virgin)!reader

⤑ genre: fluff!... some angst at the end if you squint.

⤑ rating: pg13

⤑ word count: 3.9K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: lmao second hand embarrassment probably.

⤑ A/N: hey :( love you all who have been enjoying this story nd sending your thoughts in - they really make my day. so thank youu! let me know what you think x 

FEBRUARY 22ND, 2020 | 16:49

Casual. You're constantly reminding yourself the entire time you're getting ready. This was supposed to be casual. This was not a date. So there was no reason for you to go through the process of getting ready for a date. You didn't shave, just took a regular shower with the regular soaps. 

Spent very little time in the mirror when getting dressed, there was no need for frilly shirts or form-fitting pants. Instead, you settled for a pair of ripped jeans and a hoodie that Taehyung had lost a little while back. Minimum makeup, hair up, and out of your face.

Needed to cement it in your mind that this was not a date. Steal away any reason for you to act like it was one. No matter how much you knew you'd enjoy the whole shebang, candlelit dinner, romantic walk admiring the night sky, kiss on the doorstep – you had to ignore that.

Bottle it up and stuff it down because there were many things you didn't know about Jungkook and the bits you did know weren't great. His shitty friends being at the top of the list. So, until you were sure he wasn't like the lot of them... not dates were what you'd settle for. Because at the end of the day, you wanted to see him.

It's a thirty-minute drive from your house to Jungkook's and you spend the entire car ride agonizing on how this 'not date' was going to turn out. And then immediately scolding yourself for freaking out over something that shouldn't matter as much as you were making it out to be.

For all you knew, he probably was just waking up... barely remembering that he had plans with you. Most likely hopping in the shower just minutes before you were said to arrive. Mmh, Jungkook in the shower. Droplets of water rolling over his tone skin, following the dips and ridges until...

It's hard to shake the image of Jungkook showering out of your head once you've got it there. Even with his insistent need to wear baggy clothes, it didn't take a detective to see that the kid was ripped. No doubt spent hours in the gym working on his arms, his abs, his thighs...

Nope. Not going there. No reason to go there when you were on your way to hang out, innocently hang out with a guy that you were just barely friends with. That's all it was. Two people getting to know each other after clicking the first time they talked. God, the way you clicked with Jungkook was unbelievable. 

He made you laugh. And it was weird because you don't remember ever feeling this comfortable around someone this quickly. Jungkook was different. At least you hoped he was. Instantly, you're shushing your thoughts. Refusing to mentally put so much pressure on something that more than likely become nothing.

Getting your hopes up too early was the reason why people got hurt in the first place. So this wasn't a date. And you weren't going to expect him to treat it as such. Just hanging out to get to know each other. That was it.

That was it. Your new mantra as you shove your car into park, heading up the walkway to his front door. Knocking while repeating those four words to yourself. Casual. That was it.

You're not even waiting a full minute before the front door is being pulled open, revealing a fresh-looking Jungkook. Dark hair falling in pretty waves, on either side of his pretty face. He seems to be glowing and you feel it throughout your entire body when he smiles.

A baggy pink sweatshirt swallows his figure, paired with equally loose gray sweatpants. His house is spotless when he lets you in, obvious that he spent the duration of the morning cleaning. The smell of Lysol still lingered in the air. Even the white socks on his feet seemed oddly clean.

You can't help but smile at the effort, allowing yourself to believe that all the trouble was for you.

Once he's setting your shoes in his extremely organized coat closet, he's leading you through the house. Smiling big as he gives you a mini-tour of the first floor and you swear you're paying attention. You're trying your best at least, but it's hard to concentrate on anything that wasn't how cute he looked.

“And this is the arcade,” He's showing off both rows of teeth with his broad gesture into the room located at the end of the hall. Obviously proud of this part of the tour.

As he should be. When the kid said arcade, that's exactly what he meant. Old school game machines lined the walls, ones that you'd actually find in an arcade. Some games that you've never heard of before. All with the high score name: 'Koo'. A dramatic two-person car racing game tucked in the corner.

There's a curved 90 inch TV mounted on the wall, in front of it on a stand is every game console ever made. He has his laptop set up in the room, with two monitors and two gaming chairs in front of it. In the middle of the room is the most comfortable L shaped couch.

All you can say is, “Whoa.” And he's laughing at your reaction.

“It's my favorite room in the house. Well... aside from,” His eyes shift up, obviously gesturing to upstairs where his bedroom is.

The insinuation has a blush darkening your cheeks, but you choose to ignore it, stepping further into the room with a tiny gasp. “You have Skee-ball!?” He's right behind you as you rush across to the room to where the game is set up. A manicured nail pressing against the start button, grinning wide up at him as the balls roll down.

Bright red numbers flash on the screen, the high score followed by his name: 310...Koo. A smirk instantly settling onto your features as you reach for one of the bright-colored balls. “I'm gonna beat that,” Lifting a finger to point at the numbers on the screen.

Jungkook is letting a loud laugh leave his lips, a pretty smile settling on his features as the sound dies down. “That took me two weeks... good luck,” Drawing your hand back, you release the ball on the swing. Watching as it travels upward toward the slots, dropping right into the gutter.

It takes four throws before you're getting it right, the ball traveling up the slope and directly into the 40 point slot. You're letting out a loud whoop, arms lifting in slight victory.

Eyes wide, you're turning your head to face him. “You saw that!?” You're shocked that he's already looking at you. With this soft lovey look that you were the one to hang the stars in the sky. And it makes you wish that this was a date because if it were you'd be able to let yourself enjoy the feeling that comes with the way that he's looking at you.

But it's not a date. So you don't. Shove the fuzzy feeling away with a shake of your head, reaching for another ball from the rack and thrusting it forward. 

FEBRUARY 22ND, 2020 | 18:08

Jungkook is scary good at games. Like scary good. If he wasn't matching your score, he was doubling it. Didn't even graze his high score in Skee-ball and every game after that was his domain. And he was having fun beating you, the smile growing on his face each time you were crossing your arms with a pout – claiming the game had to be rigged.

Foosball to Car Racing to Dance Dance Revolution (he had way more rhythm than you'd expect). You've settled down quite a bit since you first showed up at his house, finding it easy to relax around him. He was cute when he got competitive, not like you were much of a competition in these games... but it was nice to see him like this.

The scrunch of his nose as he focused on the screen. The cute dimples that popped out whenever he won. And how he mindlessly sat close to you, engulfing you in his sweet scent. There was just something about being with Jungkook that made you feel at ease, could someone who made you that comfortable really be as bad as his trash friends?

His shoulder brushes against yours as he settles further into the comfort of his couch, his thumbs moving over the controller quickly. Implementing combo after to defeat your character. In the fourth round of Mortal Kombat and you've only one once.

“Hey! You said you'd let me win,” He's laughing, not even letting your character get up before the large K.O. letters appear on the screen and his person is giving their little victory remark. A dramatic huff leaves your lips, the controller being tossed to the side to cross your arms over your chest.

All he wants to do is lean in and kiss that pout off your lips. Has wanted to kiss you since he beat you in table tennis. You're so pretty and he can't hold back from moving closer to you, guiding your movements just so he can have an excuse to touch you. And he doesn't miss the way you blush. The cute giggles that you let out when he flirts with you. Making him want to flirt with you more just so he can hear the sound.

“I tried,” He speaks through a laugh, taking in the skeptical look on your face. “I did! You're just so bad,” His eyes watch your fingers move around the controller, switching the screen to the character choice.

Gasping when his words sink in, landing dainty punches onto his shoulder. “You're mean! Rematch. I'm not bad,” Jungkook's pressing start on the game as soon as you both have picked your characters, leaning back against the couch as he instantly starts trying out combos on you.

Your whines and protests are cute. It's all he can focus on when he's supposed to be paying attention to the game. And the shout of triumph you let out when you're managing to knock his character down squeezes at his heart, he can't help but turn to look at the smile on your face.

“Look at you losing!” He's sure his health bar is at the end by now, but he can't tear his eyes away from you. In awe, because how could someone actually look like that? So effortlessly... beautiful? 

The tip of your tongue poked out the corner of your lips, brows furrowed as you work hard to take him down. So wrapped in the game, you don't even realize that he had stopped playing. It's his luck too, no telling how embarrassed he'd be if he was caught staring. Yet, he can't bring himself to look away.

Not until you're jumping up excited, clapping for yourself and your win. “Did you see that?” Your body is whipping around, forcing a surprised look on his face. Worried that you might've caught the way he had been looking at you. “I just fucking destroyed you! You can't even say that was beginners luck, either.”

You're lifting your hand for a high five, which he's happily giving to you. His smile matching yours as you flop down on the couch beside him, thighs grazing over each other and he feels it in his chest. “Do you want a chance to redeem yourself?”

Not even a minute is spared for him to answer because you're already starting up a new round. He's got his game face on now, shaking himself out of the daze. “Can you believe I just kicked your butt?” There's this taunting look on your face and all he wants to do is lean over and kiss you.

He takes for teasing you instead. Noticing your ridge posture that he had commented on in your picture. “I don't know how,” A large hand reaches over to touch your back, your body automatically leaning into his touch. “Your form is all off, it had to be luck.” Just a bit of pressure is applying to your back and you're slouching forward.

With a laugh, you're rolling your eyes – reaching a hand back to swat his away. “Watch me beat you like this too. I'll even let you pick my character,” You've been using the same girl since you started playing while he's surfed through the entire catalog. He's taking you up on the offer, picking one of the bulkier characters that don't do all the jump moves you seem to love so much.

And you still beat him.

This time distracted by the frustrated rants from you whenever your guy doesn't do what you tell him to. Time runs out and he ends up having less on his health bar and you're taking that as a proper win, lifting your hand for another high five.

Jungkook congratulates you quietly, more so trying to figure out just what was going on inside his chest. He's had girls over before. In much more intimate settings than this... but never has he felt like his heart was about to burst through his chest. This unbearable feeling to be close to you and it's quickly becoming all he can think about.

You're just so pretty. And you look oddly sexy in your sweats. But it's not just that. There's something else that he can't really place that's pulling him to you. Making it hard for him to stop thinking about stupid things like holding your hand or kissing your cheek. Imagining if days like today were the norm and after he'd grow tired of playing games, you'd let him stretch out his head in your lap – playing with his hair.

And it has to be crazy because this was only the first time the two of you were alone. The late-night texts being all he had to back up knowing you, but at the same time, he felt like he knew you. Like he's known you well. He can't describe it either, but he's almost positive that you feel the same.

“Are you hungry? Should we order a pizza?” You've already whipped your phone out, reluctantly putting a bit of space between the two of you as you scroll through your phone. Jungkook is quick to agree, fingers moving over the buttons on the controller to switch the TV.

No idea why he all of a sudden feels so nervous. “Sure,” He's managing to mumble out, but you're not listening. Already putting together a pizza for both of you. “Do you, uhm... do you wanna watch a movie? Something on Netflix?” Your thumb is stilling on the screen at the mention of Netflix.

Yoongi's playful warning ringing loudly in your mind. 'Playing video games was just Netflix and Chill with more steps,'. But there was the chance that he was actually tired of playing games and wanted to watch a movie with you. It didn't have to be that serious, you had been going at it for hours.

“Yeah, go ahead. Pick something.” His body slouches back on the cushions, scanning through the movies halfheartedly before choosing a random one with a really long title. After tapping his fingers against the screen, the neon orange lights in the room are dimming. A comfortable warmth settling around you.

Jungkook watches as you take your time putting the order together. The beginning credits playing on the screen and he's not even paying attention, too busy with his eyes glued to you. “I got meat lovers, you like that, right?” Setting your phone aside, you allow yourself to sink into the comfort of the cushions. 

“Mmh, my favorite.” Not a lie. It really was. And the fact that you had chose it without knowing just added to everything about you that made him want to kiss you. A small smile spreads across your lips as you nod, turning your attention to the screen in front of you.

The two of you sit side by side, watching the characters on the screen, but you're not listening. It's hard to hear over the pounding in your chest. The nervous bounce of his leg as if he was waiting for something. And you have no idea what because the pizza is no where near being on its way.

A pretty girl is in an argument with her male lead, something about debt and you're trying your hardest to follow the storyline. Although, you have no idea what this movie is and why he picked it. 

It's the thick yawn from beside you that catches your attention, Jungkook's arms lifting over his head in a stretch. You don't think much of it, other than the fact that he's being a little dramatic with his stretch. Until the arm closest to you is dropping down, not at his side like it had been before but around your shoulders – gently tugging your body into his side.

“Did you just do the yawn move on me?” You can't help but laugh. Even through the darkness, you can see the pink tint on his cheeks. “Shh, this is my favorite part.” You're actually positive that he's never seen this movie before, but don't put up a fight. Instead, you let yourself lean into his chest.

He's warm. And smells like flowers. His eyes don't move from the screen as he's reaching down, soft hands reaching for the outside of your knee. Slowly, he's lifting your legs onto his lap, only glancing in your direction briefly to gauge your reaction. Leaning back when there's no sign of you wanting to move.

“Your feet are so small,” Toes curling at the random attention, you're leaning over to reach for his face attempting to pull his focus. “Don't make fun of them! What the heck?” He's laughing loudly at you, allowing you to move his head. Shifting his focus from your feet to his face.

Your fingers are cold against his warm skin, but he can't keep himself from leaning into your touch. “They're cute.” Big eyes scan over your face, smiling softly when they're landing on yours. “You're cute.”

Almost instantly, the atmosphere in the room seems to shift. And you're not sure how he did it, but the way he was looking at you, the soft whisper in his voice... you can't but melt in his strong arms. Basically sat in his lap and it's nice. Jungkook takes his time with inching forward, entering your space which has your hand falling from his face.

He's quick to replace your hand with his one your cheek, tilting your head up toward his. You're sure he's going to kiss you. It's obvious with the slight pucker of his lips, the droop of his eyes, he's tapping a rhythmic beat against your knee ten times faster than the rush of your heart. He was going to kiss you.

Jungkook was going to kiss you and it felt like you couldn't breathe. Nerves on a ten because this wasn't even supposed to be a date. And now you were in this situation and you weren't the least bit unhappy about it. You wanted him to kiss you and it's a new feeling that you don't fully understand. It freaks you out.

Just inches from your lips and your face is twisting up, head jerking back before he can reach you. “What are you doing?” Instantly hating yourself for the embarrassed look on his features that slowly morphs into a puppy dog pout.

“I was going to kiss you...” Jungkook mumbles out sheepishly, dropping his arm from your body to push his hair back. Making an effort to put some space between the two of you, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong.

Because in his mind he had done everything right. Had been making you laugh all night, set some type of mood, told you that you were cute. And you seemed to be enjoying yourself... so what was he missing?

“Why would you do that? This isn't a date, Jungkook.” The mantra that you thought you had worked into your head seemed to be slipping. Not sure when you had forgotten what this was supposed to be, but now it was all rushing back to you.

The reasons you had rejected going on an actual date with him in the first place. And the realization of how stupid you were to think that this was a proper substitute for it. No matter what you decided to call it, it didn't erase the fact that this... tonight, with him... felt like a date.

And it wasn't supposed to.

“Do you kiss all the people you just hang out with?” It's wrong to put the blame on him and only him, but you can't help it. You're a mess in your head for a plethora of reasons, because it had been obvious. How he was looking at you, his arm around you, your legs in his lap... everything that you decided to ignore.

But in the same breath, he told you this wasn't a date... so why bother with all sweet shit. Turning movies on for one reason. Maybe you were reading too deep into all of this? Maybe you were overreacting. Jungkook didn't act like his friends when he was with you, maybe he was really different.

“Oh, come on, Yn... are you being serious?” He doesn't look all too embarrassed anymore, just a little bit sad from the rejection. It's fine, though. He'll live. “Dead serious, Jungkook. You got me here saying this wasn't a date. You need to stick to that,” You felt strongly on that part.

You had told him you didn't want to go on a date with him and even though this 'not date' was literally the same thing, he shouldn't act as if you had said yes to a date. Right? He should keep his word, that way things wouldn't get messy. Like right now.

Jungkook seems to put it together in his head, nodding his head in agreement – yet, the pout doesn't leave his lips. “Alright, alright. Fine. My bad,” He's tugging at the rolls of fabric on his sweats, avoiding eye contact with you. Dark hair covering his eyes, all you can really see is the pink of his lower lip.

And you feel bad, even though you know you shouldn't. It's not like you would've hated kissing him. It was just too nerve-racking to think of doing right now. You didn't quite understand it yourself, so there was no way you could go and explain it to him.

Instead, you're extending a finger. Poking the tip of your nail into his knee. “Don't pout. Come on, you'll miss the best part.” Referring to the movie that you're both watching for the first time, but it has a smile pushing onto his lips. His head lifting and gaze shifting onto the TV screen.

“Sorry,” He mumbles out after a moment, but you're not sure if he's apologizing for the almost-kiss or something else. Either way, you're flashing a genuine smile in his direction, lifting a hand to playfully shove at his shoulder. “Don't worry about it. It's fine,”

It really was.

— known for your body and surrounded by rumors about your sex life… rumors that he doesn’t think to doubt. until he’s meeting you… forced to realize there’s much more to you then the thonged shorts and lacy costumes.

⤪ masterlist ⤨

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

[sunlight-moonrise]

The Price (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reader is a technical analyst for the BAU. She did not expect to be smitten by the resident genius. 

A/N: This is my first time writing a fic as well as my first time writing smut. I’d like to thank @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​ for beta reading my work (you’re a gem and I’ll fight for you). Also a quick thank you to @imagining-in-the-margins​ and those in the discord for being so welcoming and helping me with this. The fic is inspired by @erin-bo-berin​ Sweet Cheeks. 

Category: Fluff and Smut

Content Warnings: Oral (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex

Word Count: 6.0K

Masterlist

There are a lot of things I enjoy about this job. The salary is decent. My coworkers are pretty cool. I get to interact with a sexy genius from time to time- you know, the usual that comes with being employed by the government.

I started as a technical analyst for the BAU a few months prior, working alongside the one and only Penelope Garcia with assisting the rest of the team behind some computer screens. Coding and hacking is second nature to me so the job is not too difficult. It was either this or facing some years in jail because I couldn’t cover my tracks fast enough. Looking at mangled and mutilated bodies on a weekly basis is better than prison.

I get along rather well with the team. I pretty much call everyone by a term of endearment, much to Garcia’s delight. It was one of the things we had in common and helped us get along with one another much faster. I sometimes can get carried away with the innuendos, but Garcia welcomes everything I say with open arms.

I typically save my more sensual remarks for the doctor. I remember the good old days when he used to be so tongue-tied by my actions. Now my words barely surprises him.

A voice broke my concentration. “What got you thinking so hard, angel?” I turn towards the person, a smile already adorning my face. Lo and behold, Dr. Spencer Reid has graced me with his delectable presence.

“Would you believe me if I said that I was thinking of you Doc?” He had a small smile on his face. I could pretty much categorize all the smiles he uses because of how often I stare at him. I mean, it is a tragedy to not stare at such beauty. This particular smile means that he is content and comfortable.

“May I ask exactly what it was that you were thinking about?” he asked. 

“I cannot share the sordid details of my mind with you just yet darling. You’ll just have to use that beautiful mind of yours and conjure up something imaginative.”

He let out a small laugh and helped me carry the files I was juggling. My eyes immediately went to his hands. The things I’ll let those hands do to me. I bet only one is needed to perfectly wrap around my -- No bitch, focus. We got a case to present in five minutes. Right, right. Work now, daydream later.

We entered the conference room, where the rest of the team was already sitting at the round table, waiting for us. I gave out the files with Spencer’s help while Penelope started up the monitor.

“You guys are staying local but time is of the essence” she informed us. The TV lit up with four pictures of young boys. “We have a kidnapping case at Stafford County.”

“Were they kidnapped at the same time or place?” asked JJ as she skimmed over the report I handed out earlier.

“No” I said as I pointed to the two younger boys on the screen. “Jacob Rivers and David Hall were taken from their respective homes 48 hours ago” I then pointed to the two slightly older boys “Benjamin Harris was taken 12 hours ago at a park and Scott Turner was taken from the mall less than 6 hours ago.”

“Do these boys have anything in common?” Morgan asked out loud.

“Other than physical appearance and age group, these boys don’t have any similarities. They didn’t even go to the same school. As a matter of fact, David Hall was home-schooled.” replied Garcia.

“Garcia and I couldn’t find any common ground in the families’ educational, economic, or social backgrounds either” I added. “Once you guys take off, we’ll do a further dive into their personal histories.”

“The UnSub is already escalating, kidnapping from a private home and kidnapping from a crowded area within hours of each event is fairly drastic” Rossi stated.

“Maybe the Unsub is on a time frame? They could be feeling pressured and desperate” Emily questioned, trying to come up with some kind of initial profile.

Hotch already started standing up. “We’ll know more after analyzing the crime scenes and talking to local PD. Let’s head out.” The rest of the team followed, gathering their files and making an exit towards the door while Garcia headed for our office. Spencer lagged behind a bit and I already knew why. We have a little tradition of bidding farewell to one another before he takes off for a case.

I stood next to him, bumping my shoulder against his upper arm. “Don’t miss me too much while you are out there.”

“The more you remind me I have to leave, the more I want to stay here.” he grinned.

I snorted at his words, knowing that he was full of shit. There is nothing more that Reid loves than being out in the field. “Go be a hero and come back to me in one piece pretty boy.”

“Yes Ma’am.” he replied as he went to follow the team towards the elevator.

I swear that boy is immune to my teasing now. I miss seeing his face become flush, but I also enjoy the playful repartee we have now. I remember the first interaction I had with Spencer quite vividly. It truly was a comical moment.

 “Everyone this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She will be working alongside Garcia.” Hotch stated as he introduced me to the team. I have already met him and Penelope prior to being presented to everyone else.

“Derek Morgan, pleasure to meet you.” Whoa. If tall, dark, and handsome was a person, Morgan would be fit for the role. He offered his hand, which I immediately took.

“The pleasure is all mine” I replied with a wide smile.

I directed my attention to a much older gentleman. “David Rossi” said the Italian man who reminded me of a mob boss.

“Charmed to meet you.” I shook his hand, surprised by the strength behind it. Those older bones are still working for him.

Next came the petite blonde, whose figure I was both envious and enamored with. “Jennifer Jareau, but everyone here calls me JJ for short.”

“In that case, please call me (Y/N/N).” I shook her hand, and became even more envious with how soft her skin was. She has got to tell me her secrets.

I focused on the brunette with shoulder-length hair. “Emily Prentiss”. My God, I think being attractive is a requirement for this team. She offered her hand to shake and her grip was firm. Note to self, forget about Rossi; don’t get on Emily’s bad side.

“Nice to meet you.”

I turned to the final individual and was blown away by his beauty. Yup, my previous thought has been confirmed. Only good-looking people are allowed pass these doors. His bone structure looked like it was sculpted by Roman artists. His body was lean and slender, reminding me of a runner’s physique. My eyes stared up to the softest hazel eyes I have ever seen.

“Dr. Spencer Reid.” he introduced. I offered my hand immediately, wanting to feel his skin against mine.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), but you already knew that,” I said softly, my hand still out. He just stared at it as if it was an anomaly.

“Uh-the amount of pathogens passed through a handshake is astounding. A high five transmit half the number. But even then, a kiss is much more safe.” he quickly stated as he nodded his head. I almost didn’t catch any of it. Partially because of the rapid speech, partially because I was staring at his lips.

“Hmm, that’s news to me. However, if a kiss is what you want…” I lowered my hand and took a step closer to him. My eyes slowly moved from his eyes to his mouth and then back up. He took a slight step back.

“N-N-No, that’s not—I-I mean that —uhh...” His face was flushed and his tongue shot out to run against his lips. His eyes quickly darted across the room, seeking some help. I felt a sense of pride knowing I made this man flustered.

“I’m just teasing Doc.” If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was frightened by me. Maybe he was, but the blush on his face and the way he kept staring gave me further information on him.

“Don’t mind Reid,” Morgan said, coming to the young man’s rescue. “He has a thing with germs.” He finished, a smirk plastered on his face. Well, I hope he soon develops a thing for something else. Or rather someone else.  

I was just about to make another sly comment when Hotch interrupted. “Back to the case at hand.” He gave us all a pointed look. Right, I am at my first day at work. I’ll focus on hot doctors with hotter smiles and the hottest face at my own time.

“Yes sir,” Garcia stated, as she started pushing buttons on a remote. The TV turned on and pictures of three different women showed up on the screen. They all looked to be strangled to death. “You guys are needed in Toledo, Ohio.” Garcia goes on to describe the case while the team starts the early stages of conducting a profile.

“Wheels up in 30.” Hotch says and the everyone disperses. Garcia walked up to me and handed me some documents from the case file.

“C’mon cupcake, we gotta do some preliminary work to get the case going much faster.” I followed her to what she called the “bat cave”. I scanned the small room and immediately fell in love. Computers and monitors littered almost every inch of the place. I saw a lot of colorful knickknacks displayed on one side of the desk, knowing already who they belonged to. The area was endearing and had a cozy feel to it.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding. This place is a dream come true.” I am sure she can hear the awe in my voice.

“I know, right. Wait until you actually use it girlie, the framework on these things is out of this world.” I sat myself on a chair nearby and rolled in front of a screen.

“Alrighty. You can do some background checks on these girls while I gather more information from the police reports. Let me know if there are any commonalities among any of them. We’ll relay that info with the team.”

“Gotcha babe, I’ll have the information ready ASAP.” I responded, already typing away on the computer. I’m already starting to like it here.

*Later that day*

Garcia and I haven’t found much in common between the victims of the crimes, much to our dismay. I was left in the office to continue searching for important information on the girls while she went to fax some data to the precinct when the phone started to ring.

I quickly answered and put it on speaker. “(Y/L/N) at your humble service. How may I serve you?”

“Oh-uh is Garcia around” replied a high-pitched voice, which I immediately recognized as Reid. I don’t know whether or not I should be insulted that he wanted Penelope or pleased that I probably still have him flustered.

“She’s a bit pre-occupied at the moment. But rest assured I can find whatever you need Doc. Especially if you ask nicely.”

“Uh-I need you to pull up information on the mothers. We think they were all in the same sorority, however not necessarily at the same time. We need a list of all the members of the sorority from the time the mothers joined with a 3-year pre- and post-graduation.”

“No problemo sweetness. Anything else I can do for you? I have a lot of other services that can be helpful.” I stated, a teasing tone in my voice as I already set up my search.

“No-no, that’s all. Um thanks.” I can already picture the blush coating his cheeks as he stammered his response.

“Alright love, call me back if you need anything. Or if you change your mind.” I hung up the phone and started organizing the list in front of me.

 And from then on, I have enjoyed pretty much all the moments I had with the BAU. It took some time, but Spencer now has accepted and even returned my little flirtations.  We often get compared to Garcia and Morgan. But with a lot more sexual tension, at least on my end. I have to remind myself from time to time to calm down before I combust in the middle of a conference room or the bullpen. C'est la vie.

I made my way to the cavern of all things amazing and settled in front of my computers. Pen looked at me with a knowing expression on her face. “You’re gloomy.”

I pouted as I put my earpiece on. “I am not gloomy, I am horny,” I rebuked.

“How long has it been since you got some?”

“I’m not sure but it feels like I have not gotten any since the Stone Age,” I groaned out.

“I don’t know why you don’t just tell him how you feel,” she pointed her pink glittery pen in my direction, “I bet he would fuck you right here if you let him.”

And there goes my thought process, as always, overtaken by Spencer Reid. “Babe, please. This is not helping my situation.”

“Just telling you how it is.”

●●●

We have been sitting in front of these screens for hours. The team has made some progress but they’re missing an important piece to fit the puzzle. Garcia has been looking into the background of the neighbors when I heard a small stomach grumble coming from her direction. I let out a laugh as she huffed out “I am going to grab a snack from the breakroom, you want anything boo?”

“If it ain’t alcohol or chocolate, I don’t want it.”

“Noted,” she said as she left the room. I really hope she finds a couple of cupcakes or something.

I continued trying to get information on these missing kids when my headpiece played the Doctor Who theme song, informing me that Einstein was calling in. “Goddess of knowledge and wisdom at your disposal.”

“I didn’t know I had Athena at my fingertips.” How is it possible that nine words have short-circuited my brain just now? Is it the voice or the way he basically called me a Greek Deity? Probably both.

Of course I slyly responded, “Oh my Hephaestus, you have all of me at your fingertips.” I heard a chuckle and I immediately knew it belonged to Morgan. A slight blush crept onto my cheeks when I heard a random voice asking why Spencer called his girlfriend in the middle of a case.

“I should have mentioned that you were on speakerphone.”

“Naughty boy, you know I charge extra for groups.” Now this was followed by some choked out noises and a bunch of giggles. I could only assume the whole precinct was amused by my antics at this point. 

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“I can, for a price.”

“A price?”

“Yes, a price that I would inform you of in private. Now the reason for your call…” I drew out. Thank goodness Garcia wasn’t here. I don’t need her looking at me as if I am a phone sex operator.

“I need you to check foster children between the ages of four and eight within a 25-mile radius. We are looking for a homosexual couple that were looking to adopt but were rejected. The names should be on multiple applications among different sites. Let me know what you find.”

“I’ll have that information at the palm of your hands soon” Meanwhile, I am over here wishing that I was at the palm of his hands.

“Thank you, my Goddess” I can’t help but smile when he says things like this. Since when were the roles reversed in our friendship?

“Anything for a gorgeous worshipper. TTYL.”

Garcia chose that moment to walk back in while I had this silly grin on my face. She stared at me and I already knew what she was going to say.

“If you don’t have a piece of chocolate or a cocktail on you, I am not talking.”

All she did was laugh at me.

●●●

The team was able to find all four boys safely. The UnSubs were a male couple who wanted to adopt but kept facing discrimination against the agencies. It is a shame that they felt they had to resort to kidnapping in order to have a family.

Now Garcia and I are scanning the notes the team faxed to us earlier today. They informed us that they would be back here in half an hour or so.

“Shoot, I didn’t think it would take this long to scan these damn files.” Garcia murmured.  I looked over at her and saw a small stack of documents that still needed to be put into the system.

I walked over and grabbed the pile from her. “Go, I’ll take care of it from here doll.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad. You did your portion of the work already.”

“Don’t you have to be at the rehearsal in 20 minutes? How is the theater going to operate without their main lead?” I placed the documents on my side of the desk and moved to gather Garcia’s belongings.  I picked up her purse and jacket before handing it to her, quickly pushing her towards the door. “I got this, think of it as an IOU.”

“Yes, yes, yes, I owe you big. Thank you sugar, see you tomorrow.” Garcia hurriedly exited the door and headed towards the elevator. 

I looked towards the papers, a low groan leaving my mouth. The faster I go through this, the better.

●●●

I was just finished implementing all the documents into the computer when I heard a knock at the door. I turned around and saw Spencer’s head peeking through. “Evening handsome, to what do I owe this visit?”

“Garcia passed by me a while ago and informed me you were in here finishing some extra work. I wanted to check on you; see if you needed my help.”

“Thanks Doc, but you’re a few minutes too late. I already finished scanning the files. Besides, you’re not the best with technology, much less these computers.”

“Maybe not. But I am a fast learner and I pay close attention to detail.” Either my ears were playing a trick on me or Spencer’s voice lowered an octave or two.

I remembered what Penelope said earlier today and decided to just go for it. “I could collect on that price from earlier.” I leaned against the desk and stared into his eyes. C’mon Doc, pick up the hint. Rather, pick me up instead.

“Well I was thinking that I can get you dinner.” he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

That’s great, but not what I had in mind. “I was hoping for something else” I looked into his eyes, then slowly trailed my eyes downwards. Kiss me. Kiss me. Touch me. Lick me. Fuck me. Kiss me.

Unfortunately, Spencer is not a mind reader. He lowered his head and looked slightly dejected. “Oh well umm—would you prefer to go to a theater?” Oh Doc, you sexy, naïve, intelligent, innocent man. I guess if you want something you have to do it yourself.

I sat on the edge of my desk. “Come here Spencer.”

His head perked up, slightly intrigued since I rarely call him by his name. He walked to where I was sitting but there was still space between us.

“Closer, I don’t bite.” Unless you want me to.

He moved closer to me and I was able to rest my hands on his shoulders. Thankfully the height of the table let us be more at level with one another.

I made sure to look into his eyes as I said “I am going to kiss you. If that isn’t something you want, tell me now.”

He was speechless. His mouth was moving but no sounds came out. If the circumstances were different I would have appreciated seeing his rattled expression once more. I waited a few seconds, but he still has yet to say anything.

“Spen-mmh” before I knew it, his mouth was upon mine. He gently cradled my face as his lips moved against my own. My eyes closed as I felt nothing but bliss. As cliché as it sounds, I was in paradise because of this kiss alone.

His tongue peeked and swiped against my lower lip, trying to have a taste of me. I was more than happy to grant him entrance, a moan leaving my body as his tongue touched mine.

All parts of me were trying to feel him. I had one hand in his hair while the other grabbed onto the back of his shirt. My chest was pressed against his while my legs lazily wrapped around his midsection. His scent was intoxicating to me. It was a coffee-like smell as if he just walked out of a café. He tasted so sweet, all I wanted to do was keep his mouth on mine. But my body needed air so I slowly pulled away.

He tried to catch his breath as his forehead rested against mine. “So you don’t want dinner?”

“Doc the only thing I am hungry for right now is you. We’ll get food afterward, alright?” Spencer nodded his head while licking his lips. My eyes hungrily followed the action and I just had to get another taste. I pulled him towards me, his hands once again holding onto my face. He was much more dominant with this kiss, and I was more than willing to give him the control. His hands then trailed down to my hips and pulled me closer to his pelvis. I jerked against him and was rewarded with a groan.

He squeezed me tighter as his lips broke away from mine once more. He placed a peck on my lips, then my cheek before trailing down my neck. I felt my body heat up as I released a small moan. Fucking hell, he is going to be the death of me and we barely did anything.

Spencer started to lightly nibble on my neck when I pulled him back by his hair. “It is summer and I am not wearing a turtleneck in 80° weather. If you’re gonna give me some hickeys, they better be on my chest.” He murmured something that I couldn’t quite comprehend before undoing the buttons of my blouse.

Hell, I am not the only one who is gonna be undressed so I started unbuttoning his dress shirt as well. It was a race to see who would get the other’s shirt off first. Of course I lost because my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. But when his warm lips kissed their way towards the middle of my cleavage, I felt like a fucking champion.

I tried my best to shimmy out of the sleeves of my blouse while Spencer attempted to take my bra off, his lips still leaving a love mark against my chest. Once we got rid of the shirt and the bra, his mouth immediately enveloped one of my nipples.

“Fuck” I yelped loudly, “a little warning next time Doc.”

“Sorry” he muttered as he continued to suck on my breast while palming the other between his dexterous fingers. That had to be the most insincere apology I have ever heard from him. An idea came across my head. I slowly removed his shirt, watching it pool on the floor. I then raked the nails of one hand across his chest while the other pulled against his hair. Hard. He retaliated by lightly biting my nipple. Fuck, the plan backfired. Abort mission, abort the damn mission.

Spencer let out a small chuckle as he pulled away from my breast, an audible pop leaving his mouth. My hands went to his face and I moved him up to look at me. His eyes were dilated and his mouth was swollen. His face was flush and he was taking deeper breaths than usual. He looked so beautiful like this.

He had a dorky smile on his face and I realized that I said the words out loud. I felt my face heat up fast and he swiftly commented “I’d never thought I’d see you be so thrown off because of me.”

He rested his hands against either side of the desk and just looked at me. “Shut up and kiss me.” I hissed, already missing the warmth of his skin against mine.

“Where do you want me to kiss you?” he asked. I was about to reply when he interrupted “Do you want me to kiss you on your lips? Or maybe you want me back on those beautiful breasts of yours?”

Have mercy on me, I never believed Spencer Reid could make me so wet just with his words. Sure, I thought of it, but I didn’t believe it would happen to me.

“Maybe you want me to go lower. Should I place my lips on that pussy of yours?” Oh my fuck, I never want this moment to end. I nodded my head so quickly, I could have sworn I given myself whiplash.

“I want to hear you say it,” he breathed out.

“Yes, yes, please. I want you to eat my pussy. Please.” I begged. Dignity be damned.

“That’s my good girl” How is it possible that he went from the dorky adorable doctor to this assertive, stimulating specimen in a matter of minutes? I didn’t think he had a sensual bone in his body. But I am glad to be proven wrong.

Spencer lowered himself to his knees while I clumsily attempted to rid myself of my skirt and panties. I lifted my lower body up as he pulled the clothing off of me. Penelope would have a field day if she knew that I was sitting butt naked on the desk with Spencer Reid between my legs. Hell, I am having a field day knowing this.

Spencer, being the teasing bastard that he has been for the past few minutes, started kissing my legs first. “That’s not where I said I wanted you to kiss me” I huffed out.

“Hush” was all he said as he continued the slow trail up, making sure to alternate between each leg. I was already breathing as if I have ran a marathon, my patience was waning at this point. Finally, he made his way to where I needed him most. He put his hands on my thighs and pushed them further apart.

My hands landed on top of his head, playing with the curls. “You’re comfortable down there Doc?” I snickered, loving the sight of his head between my legs. All he did was nip my inner thigh harshly. I shrieked at the action. I’m starting to think this man has a tiny biting fetish.

I wasn’t ready for when his tongue parted my folds. I squeaked as he teasingly lapped the arousal that had formed the second he walked into the room. I tried rolling my hips but his hands made me stay put on the desk. I never knew he could hold me down like this. I couldn’t even be mad because the pleasure he was giving me was incredible.

Spencer continued to tease me, his tongue never going where I needed it most. He made sure to explore as much as possible as leisurely as possible. “Spencer, please” I cried out. He let out a small hum, the vibration causing a shiver to rack my body.  

His tongue finally entered me, much to my delight. No amount of imagination could have ever prepared me for the things this appendage can do to me. He continued this soft, flat movement that was driving me crazy. My hands tightened in his hair, hoping he would go a bit faster.

“You taste so good princess, I don’t want this to end.”

“That’s my Queen to you” I jested. He didn’t like that since he responded with a resounding smack against my outer thigh. Ouch, note to self, Spencer doesn’t like being teased during sexy times. Hmm. On second thought, continue to tease Spencer during sexy times.

I felt his finger probe my entrance, moving up and down before pushing inside of me. I let out a distressing whine as he started slowly moving his finger in and out of me, curling as he did so. His mouth was on my clit, sucking and kissing it as if he has done so all his life.

My body started heating up and trembling. I tried, and failed, to roll my hips against the movement. “Spe-Spencer” I wailed. He didn’t relent.

Spencer entered a second finger into me as his tongue gave small, flickering motions against my bundle of nerves. I had to move one hand to my mouth to prevent any loud noises from being heard outside the room. Shit, did we even lock the door?

That thought immediately left my mind as my core started to tighten. Spencer must have known that I was getting close to my orgasm because he moved his fingers more diligently within me. I felt his fingers curl as they pulled out, I felt his tongue lick thoroughly against my pearl, I felt my ecstasy rising within me. It took one more deep press of his fingers and a harsh suck for me to come all over his face. I bit down on my fingers as I moaned out loud.

“That was so much better then what I imagined” I panted out, the words barely coming out comprehensible. I had a giant smile decorating my face.

He pulled his face up, a smug grin gracing his face. “Is this what you were thinking about earlier this morning?” he taunted. I couldn’t even give him a smartass remark because I was too busy trying to come back to reality. He pulled his fingers out and held them in front of my face.

“Open” he ordered. I complied and he pushed his fingers inside of my mouth. “You look so pretty when you follow instructions well. See how good you taste.”

I pulled my head back, taking his fingers out of my mouth. “I bet I taste a lot better on that tongue of yours.”

He tangled his hand in my hair and pulled me to a kiss. I immediately opened and welcomed his tongue against mine. I was right, I do taste better on him. I let out a deep moan and pulled away far enough to gently bite down on his lower lip.

He looks at me, that devilish tongue of his running against his lower lip before entering my mouth once again. With his lips still on mine, he picked me up and move to sit on my desk chair. It was nothing short of a miracle that we managed not to fall on the floor.

I placed my hand on top of his erection through his slacks and he drew a quick intake of breath. I started palming him as I grinded myself against him. I pulled back as I whispered, “I need you, Spencer”.

“Y’know this is the most I have heard you call me by my name in any given moment we have been together.” He unzipped his slacks and pushed down his pants and boxers as much as he could with me on top of him.

I looked down, finally being able to see his cock. Is it possible to get aroused further through sight alone? Because I think I creamed myself again. God, I wish I could show him my oral skills, but we’ll save that for another time.

“Would you rather I call you by something else?” I asked, attempting to move my lower body so that it can align with his cock. I say attempt because Spencer currently had his hands on my thighs again.

“No, I like the way my name sounds as you moan it out. Don’t hide your pleasure from me this time.” He maneuvered my legs to rest upon the armrest on either side of the chair, leaving my pussy wide open for him.

I gave him an incredulous look. “Are you forgetting that we are at work?”

He started rubbing the tip of his cock against my lower lips. “I didn’t forget. I just don’t fucking care.” And with that, he slowly penetrated me.

We both groaned at the intrusion. He gradually started entering me as I adjusted to his size. Inch by inch, he gave me all of him until he was buried to the hilt.  I took a moment to savor the feel of Spencer inside of me before I started grinding against him. He took that as a hint to begin thrusting.

He started slow, taking his time and having us enjoy the feeling of one another. “Your cunt is so fucking tight” he hissed into my ear and I gave out a loud whine.

“That’s because you have such a big cock, Doc” I managed to moan out. He smacked my ass before grabbing each cheek tightly in his hands. “I want you to call me by my name” he grits out.

“Spencer, baby please give it to me. I’ve been waiting for this Spencer, I’ve been waiting for you.” He started kissing my neck once more and my eyes started to closed. I wanted to focus on the pleasure he was giving me.

He tightly grabbed me, moving my hips along with his thrusts. I was close to being pushed over the edge once more. The only sounds occupying the room were our moans and skin smacking against skin as we chased our pleasure.

“Open your mouth” I heard him say. I opened my eyes to see his thumb positioned over my lips. I let out a small whimper as I sucked his digit earnestly. I made sure to coat his finger with a lot of saliva, knowing exactly what he was going to do with it when it was out of my mouth.

He pulled his thumb out and immediately placed it on my clit. I gave out an embarrassingly loud sob as he started moving his finger against me in soft circular motions. I placed my lips on his neck, trying to muffle the noise coming out of my throat.

Spencer quickly grabbed my hair and pulled my head away as he started to slow down. “How many times do I have to tell you that I want to hear your pleasure?” In that moment, Spencer controlled my mind, body, and soul.

“I’m sorry Spencer. I’ll be your good girl, please don’t stop.” He returned back to the previous pace and thrust into me even harder. We both started chasing our orgasms, not being able to hold back any longer. He was pounding into me relentlessly and I was loving it. I am sure that I am going to be sore after this.

“Come for me (Y/N), I want to feel this tight cunt squeeze around my cock.” Say less, I am already ahead of you. My eyes were rolling to the back of my head and I felt my pussy pulsate around him. With one last motion against his thumb, I cried out his name multiple times as I climaxed.  

Spencer whispered my name as he continued pushing into me, chasing his own orgasm. He thrust a couple more times before quickly pulling out, spilling himself over my stomach. I panted as I laid my head against the crook of his neck. His fingers thrummed a slow rhythm upon my lower back.

“So about that dinner... do you want to get Indian food?”

“Yeah, I can go for some samosas right now.”

[secretlittlerandezvous]

Explanations - Matthew Tkachuk

Summary: Y/n is an actress and the press likes to share rumors about her. One day Matthew sees pictures of her, and some other guy and he decides that making her jealous is the best way to deal with things.

Note: Requested by my love and written with love for my @star-gazing-game 💘

Words: 2150

Nothing was going right. Ever since Matthew woke up in the morning troubles seemed to follow him everywhere. He spilled hot coffee all over himself, burned his hand while preparing his breakfast, forgot his hockey gear on the way to the ice rink and when he returned home for it, he got stuck in traffic. Y/n was coming home after a few weeks of living in New York and he was strangely nervous about it though he had no reason to worry. Things were great between them; he was crazy for her and it seemed like she was crazy for him as well. But he felt like he needed to do something special to welcome her home but didn’t know what. She didn’t even like surprises.

When he returned home, this time hopefully for good he decided it’d be for his best to just sit down and watch tv and do nothing. He wasn’t the type to sit around and be lazy but from time to time he needed a break and he certainly deserved some rest after the morning’s events.

“Actress Y/n L/n was spotted out and about in New York and it sparked some exciting news,” Matthew immediately turned up the volume of the tv when he heard his girlfriend’s name and with excitement watched the news. “Y/n was spotted with her co-worker and they seemed to be pretty close. The actress hinted a relationship a few weeks ago and ever since then, the fans wanted to know who the lucky and mysterious guy was. Well, they look pretty good together what do you think guys?”

Matthew stared at the screen in shock, the color drained from his face, he had trouble breathing and he felt heartbreaking pain as he scanned the pictures carefully. There she was, Y/n, his girlfriend and her co-worker happily walking around the streets of New York, hand in hand and smiling widely at each other. In one picture it seemed like he leaned down to kiss her cheek but to protect himself Matthew decided the guy probably just whispered something into her ear. Matthew was doing his best to stay calm and not to panic, surely there was an explanation to this situation, and he wanted to believe they were just close friends and nothing more. But the harder he tried the more doubts and questions came to his mind and after a while he found himself questioning every moment from their meeting to this crushing moment.

Y/n and Matthew met almost four months ago during a Christmas event in Calgary, a common friend introduced them, and they hit it off right away. It wasn’t love at first sight, but they found each other familiar as if they met before. They shared common interests and the same opinions on dozens of different things, he made her feel safe and calm which was new for her because whenever she was seeing someone she became a nervous wreck and she could never relax and she made Matthew laugh like no other girl before. Matthew asked Y/n to be his girlfriend just two weeks after they met, and she jumped around his neck and kissed him hundreds of times before she said yes. Quite nervously she then asked Matthew if they could keep their relationship private for a while. Y/n wanted the media to focus on her new movies and not on her love life and she was worried that once the media would found out about it they would do their absolute best to dig up some dirt on both of them. Matthew understood her reasons and he agreed. Y/n was relieved he was so understanding, and Matthew was glad because he himself wanted to keep it lowkey to avoid unnecessary drama.

But now he saw things in a completely different light. What if he was just a distraction, a replacement, and someone to have fun with when she was in Canada and her real boyfriend was waiting for her in the states? What if she wanted to keep their relationship a secret so she could have fun with anyone without being caught? He wanted to call her and confront her, send her the pictures, and ask for an explanation and at the same time, he wanted to pretend she didn’t exist and forget about her.

That evening Matthew decided to have a good time. If she could hang out with other men, he certainly could do the same. It was Friday, they had no game and the boys gladly accepted his invitation to go to a club. He had various reasons to go there. The main one was to make Y/n jealous. He knew there was a high chance of pictures and videos of him having fun with other girls would appear across social media. Another reason was to drown his sorrows in alcohol and another one was to have at least a little bit of fun that day. The music was sensual and loud, the club was crowded to the absolute maximum and as soon as the girls found out he was a hockey player they were all over him. Exactly what he needed.

Especially one girl caught his eyes. A girl with golden skin that glowed in the neon lights, her brown curly hair framed her face nicely and her eyes were full of lust and she shamelessly flirted with him and hinted a few times she was available if he was interested. With each sip of his drink, he got closer to her until she was pressed against his body completely and they danced like one person. He liked it and to his horror, he enjoyed every move, every touch, and every smile she gave him. She was tempting him, and he had a hard time resisting her. And maybe because she noticed something was holding him back or maybe she was just tired of waiting she grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulled him down closer to her, and eagerly kissed him. He didn’t kiss her back at first, but she didn’t stop, and he soon wrapped his hands around her neck and kissed her back.

“Finally,” she murmured against his mouth with a satisfied smile and continued kissing him until he pulled away and took a few steps back. “What?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry this was a mistake.” He hoped she would forgive him because he didn’t like it when someone was angry at him, but it was too late. She was already angry and mostly disappointed she wasn’t going home with him.

Matthew said goodbye to the boys, called a taxi, and wanted to get home as fast as possible. He couldn’t wait to go to bed and forget about the whole day. The next day Y/n would arrive, she would explain the pictures to him, and they would continue in their relationship as if nothing happened.

The following morning Y/n arrived in Calgary, called, and texted Matthew a million times but he wasn’t responding. The plan was to go to his apartment immediately but after she learned about his last night’s affair, she wasn’t sure she wanted to see him. The curiosity however won, and she decided to go to his place and demand a reasonable explanation for his actions. Her whole body hurt, her hands were shaking, and she had a hard time holding the tears back. Y/n was on the plane, on her way to Calgary when she opened Snapchat and saw stories from one of his teammates. At first, she laughed at Matt’s silly dance moves, but the smile quickly disappeared when she saw the video of Matthew and some girl dancing body on body. Y/n was willing to forgive him for the dancing, but it was the heated kiss she couldn’t ignore. The kiss that broke her heart.

“Y/n?” Matthew was surprised when he opened the door and found her standing there. Sad and tired. He himself just woke up, his head hurt badly and the regrets of last night were taking over him slowly but surely. “Oh my - I’m sorry I completely forgot. Come in.”

She didn’t even look at him and with doubts entered his apartment. The welcome was cold. Y/n imagined there would be music playing, a breakfast waiting for her, and most importantly she couldn’t wait to see his open arms and hug him. “Care to explain this?” She said loudly with all seriousness and showed Matthew the video of him and the girl.

Matthew’s face got even paler, he felt sicker than before and he couldn’t believe he did it last night. But then he remembered the reason he did it and decided to fight back because he wasn’t going to let her yell at him when she wasn’t innocent. “I’ll explain it but first you should explain this me this?” He said and reached for his phone and showed her the pictures that haunted him. “Maybe this is the real reason you wanted to keep our relationship a secret?”

“Oh god,” Y/n laughed. “Seriously? And you believe this? We did a movie together for God’s sake! These pictures are from a scene, the last scene we shot. The paparazzi sold them to the media as hot news, as if they caught us in real life which is utter bullshit!”

“Really?” He asked but it was more from the relief that she most likely wasn’t cheating on him.

“Yes, yes really!” She yelled. “I can’t believe you believed it! And that you thought I would do this to you! And you didn’t even have the guts to ask me about it.”

“Y/n, baby I’m sorry alright? I am. I panicked, I was jealous, and I acted like a complete asshole.” He admitted. “I wanted to make you jealous, but I never meant to take it this far I swear. I pulled away from her because I quickly realized it was a mistake and I rushed home.”

She was angry and hurt but too tired and very happy to be finally with him that she couldn’t help but forgave him almost right away. Y/n knew him, she knew he acted foolishly whenever something bothered him, and she could tell he truly regretted it.

“Alright,” she nodded and then rested her head on his chest, wrapped her hands tightly around him, and looked at him with love and no anger. Y/n wasn’t going to lose him, especially not because of some rumors and the press or because of some random girl in a club.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered once again and kissed her forehead. His hand found hers and they intertwined their fingers and squeezed them tightly.

He kissed her once more this time on her lips, just a gentle and loving kiss before he pulled her into his lap so she sat on him and he pressed his head against her shoulder, hiding in the corner of her neck and shoulder and pressing gently kissed on her soft skin. Y/n let out a deep breath and released all emotions at once and she finally relaxed and threw all her problems away. His heart was beating faster, and she felt butterflies in her stomach and they both felt relieved to be finally in each other’s arms. Y/n could never hold a grudge against someone for too long, but she knew Matthew didn’t deserve such quick forgiveness. But what was he supposed to do? She was too happy to be with him and she understood his feelings but he still should’ve asked her instead of chasing girls at a club to make her jealous. Matthew sensed the confusion and he was ready to do whatever it would take to deserve the forgiveness.

“What can I do baby?” He whispered.

Y/n shook her head in response because she didn’t have enough strength to talk. Matthew stroked her hair and held her close to him worried she would leave him.

“I promise I didn’t want to take it this far,” he started explaining. “I wanted to have some fun, but this was not supposed to happen.”

“I know,” she whispered and smiled at him.

“You’re the most precious person I know, and I hate that I did this to you,” he said with a hope she would melt under his words. “And I’ll make it up to you I promise.”

His hand then cupped her face, stroked the soft skin of her cheek making her look him in the eyes so she would know he was being honest and in the next moment he leaned closer and kissed her. Y/n truly melted under his words and mostly under his touch and she decided that all the love she felt for him was stronger than her hurt ego and she could always deal with it later. But that day she allowed herself to be happy and to enjoy being back with her loving boyfriend.

[hannie-dul-set]

US, AGAIN | four.

SUMMARY. they say history repeats itself, but you’d like to disagree. you had to disagree. history changes, even if you had to force it. but when all your attempts to twist fate were met by nothing but the flashing recurrences of the past, what were you supposed to do?

or, wherein you try everything in your power to have nothing to do with na jaemin, but na jaemin wants nothing but you.

PAIRING. na jaemin x female! reader GENRE. college! au, historical! au, soulmate! au, past lives, forbidden love stuff, reincarnation, romance, drama, humor, angst, fluff, looots of flashbacks, this is an entire kdrama, very loosely inspired by the webtoon “see you in my 19th life” WARNINGS. (for this chapter only) swearing, night terrors, hospital mentions, passing out, the works hgdhjasf WORD COUNT. 5.1k

NOTE. I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG <///3 but life is life thank god we only have to go through this once unlike our dearest mc HJGASDJSF anyway!! lots of jaemin fluff here!! you’ll want to punch him in the face!! hope u enjoy <3

CHAPTER FOUR: why the sun sets and rises

(Running.

Through the winding branches that cut into the air, the silver lake, the jagged ground, the clouds in the wind at each and every shallow pant, you were running—

A gunshot.

—running until your legs gave away.)

You woke up in a cold sweat.

God.

Looking around, you noticed that it was far too early for you to be awake— the hazy light that barely slipped through the thin curtains, the desolate silence that seemed to have consumed your room whole, and the bedside digital clock down below you that said 6:21AM in big bold letters, indicating that you should be fast asleep especially after staying up at ungodly hours in the morning finishing up an assignment. But even after burying your head in between two of your pillows, you couldn’t even suffocate yourself into unconsciousness.

You groaned and jumped off of the top bunk.

When your feet landed on the floor, you had expected to see Seungah’s ghost of a face lying sideways on the bottom bunk, but all that met you was a small, neon orange sticky note laying soundly on her smoothed out pillow. ‘Had to leave early to the diner! Eat the breakfast I made you or else xoxo’, it said. You sighed.

There was no point mulling over the past when you had an entire future to take care of.

“Oh my gosh.”

Hong Nabi was in shock with what she saw when she arrived at the benches by the garden to work on your group assignment today. It was shocking to the point that she dropped all her binders and papers onto the pavement.

You sighed, sliding out of your seat to help her. She spared you a few, quick glances as the both of you were slouched on the floor, and he couldn’t help but bite her bottom lip in worry. The Y/N that was usually so cool, so put together, and so unbothered looked like she was casket ready. That, or ready to star in a Tim Burton animation.

“Is it Halloween today..?”

“Let’s just get this thing started,” you groaned, finally finished cleaning things up and you were now back onto your seat. Nabi sat right in front of you, organizing her now jumbled up material. She wanted to ask if you were okay— but would that be offensive considering that you were very clearly not? Still, she opened her mouth to speak, but was scared into silence when you suddenly cursed out loud. “Since when did this become a paired project? Where the hell are they?”

Nabi pressed her lips together, looking around. “I’m not sure.”

You still had around two weeks more until the presentation, but that didn’t mean that they could slack off as much as they wanted. In a fit, you grabbed your phone from your sling bag, exasperatedly tapping on the fragile screen that Nabi was almost sure that you were going to break it, but before you managed to burst a vein, an incoming sound of noises and laughter approached your ears.

Boys will be boys, but you weren’t having any of that shit.

“Yah,” the moment Jeno, Renjun, and Donghyuck showed up at your table as if nothing was wrong, you decided to smack the nearest head with a rolled up sheet of stapled paper. “Didn’t we agree to start at nine?”

“Yah,” Donghyuck snatched the weapon from you, his other hand focused on caressing the spot on his head that you’d just every so gently smacked. “Don’t you ‘yah yah’ me, missy. Did you forget that you’re younger than us?”

If only he knew.

“Is that so? You should grow a sense of responsibility, then. It doesn’t take fifty fucking years.”

With that, you let out a huff and swung your laptop open.

The rest of the people occupying the table exchanged concerned glances as they shuffled to find seats of their own. They haven’t known you for long, but this type of temperament from you was arguably out of the ordinary. Even when Donghyuck would strike a chord too dangerously, you wouldn’t snap at him— today, you weren’t your usual self, and they all mutually agreed in silence that they were going to tread carefully if they still wanted their heads attached to their necks.

When the sounds of your fingers clicking against the keyboard stopped, they felt their hearts stopping, as well.

You looked up from the laptop screen, proceeding to look around, closed your eyes, and then breathed out. “Where’s Jaemin?”

At that moment they all flipped their phones open, scrolling, clicking, and typing before they can taste any more of your unraveled temper. You had to admit, you were feeling a little guilty for being such a bitch. A part of it was yes, sleep deprivation, shitty nightmares, and a whole truck load of stress can really take a toll on your sanity, but the other part was voluntary.

Jeno looked up, the first person who managed to pinpoint Jaemin’s whereabouts. “He just texted. He says he’s running— oh, there he is.”

There he was indeed, a couple of feet away from where you all were. Once you confirmed that he wasn’t absent, you turned back to continue working, but the rest of them continued to stare at Jaemin, who was barely hanging onto his dear life, sweating and panting. And as they all watched the poor boy breathlessly running towards the table, they all thought of the same thing with one mind, heart, and soul.

Na Jaemin was a dead man.

He pulled up right in front of you, hunched over breathless with his hands on his knees. He stood up and promptly apologized. “Ahh, so sorry for being late. I had to stop by somewhere and there was traffic. I’m really—”

“I didn’t ask about your personal business,” you hummed, not even looking at him. Everyone, not only Jaemin, flinched at your explicit coldness. “Did you get the files that we need?”

He looked at you. You weren’t looking at him, but you knew he was looking at you.

“...Yeah. Hold on.”

As if the mood wasn’t already shit earlier, it actually turned into absolute horse crap after Jaemin arrived. It wasn’t his fault, really, but circumstance after circumstance didn’t exactly paint the prettiest picture of him. When the clock finally struck eleven in the morning, everyone except you all released a synchronous sigh. “We’re done today, right?” Renjun asked, and you responded with a quick nod, noticeably a lot more mellow than earlier.

Nabi stood up and started fixing her things. “I’ll send everything later to you tonight, Y/N,” she smiled at you.

“Yeah, sure,”’ you hummed, nodding. “Thank you.”

The four boys froze. Why were you being nice to her? Of course, their complaints were verbalized into nothing more than silent whines, groans, and grumbles that easily flew above your ears, Jaemin being a lot more quiet about voicing his complaints than the rest despite taking most of your attacks.

Still, even if you were being particularly thorny to him, he thought it would be a good idea to speak out just as you were about to leave. “Do the both of you have any classes after this? We were planning on getting lunch together,” he said. “Would you like to join? My treat.”

You looked at him. There was a polite smile on your face. Evidently forced.

“No, thanks.”

Donghyuck let out a genuine gasp.

“Did she just—” he stammered, switching his sight back and forth from Jaemin to you. “Did she just turn down a free meal offer?”

“She did,” you sighed, rolling your eyes as he continued to gawk at you. You picked up your heavy bag from the bench seat. “I gotta get going. Have fun, you guys.”

And you let them just like that, with five pairs of eyes trained at the back of your head until they finally lost sight of you.

For someone like you, the bulletin boards at the bus stops were like a gold mine. A gold mine of part-time jobs just waiting to be filled. There were flyers haphazardly plastered onto the board, all in different colors and different fonts. You bit a chunk off of the granola bar that served as your lunch for today, eyes meticulously scanning the available offers, a few flyers already wedged in between your armpit.

“Hair salon assistant— can’t do that. Diner waitress— a hard maybe. Already have a restaurant job pending, my shifts might clash. Library assistant? Alright, I need to check it out further, though. What about a movie— oh!— oh my god, you scared me.”

“What are you doing here, Y/N?”

Sooah suddenly appeared beside you, looking up as she clutched her backpack straps. You let out a sigh of relief upon the realization that it was just her.

“Fancy seeing you here, cadet,” you hummed, folding the neatly folding the few flyers that you had and shoving into your sling bag along with the emptied granola bar wrapper. “Are your classes over?”

“Mhm! I’m waiting for my mom to pick me up.”

“Aren’t you honored to spend time with me as you wait?”

You let out a chuckle, sitting down on the wooden seat, patting down the empty spot beside you, and Sooah happily hopped to sit down right away. Peeling off one of the flyers stuck onto the board, you decided to fold it— once, twice, countless more times until the flat, square piece of paper was now shaped into a lotus flower. Sooah beamed in amazement.

“Y/N,” she started, and you dropped the little paper flower onto her tiny hands. She placed it on her lap before looking up to you, large eyes hinted with curiosity. “The story you told us last time— was it a true story?”

You suddenly felt a chill in the air.

“...Why do you ask?”

“Oh, well,” she mused. “My mommy is a Korean Literature teacher at my school, but she teaches a grade above me. Sometimes, I’d go through her stuff to read some stories that I haven’t read in my class, and the other day—”

Uh oh.

After living for twelve whole lifetimes and currently going through your thirteenth, there was always this feeling that haunted you all throughout, a feeling that you were all too familiar with. It was gnawing, grinding, and chewing up the bottom most part of your gut. A warning sign for something bad to come.

You were definitely feeling that right now.

“—I found the same story as the one you told us, big sis.”

Yep. It was never wrong, and it never will be. You bit down your bottom lip.

“And I found something interesting!” oh, how much more must anxiety drown you, but Sooah seemed so excited that you didn’t have the heart to stop her. You raised a brow, urging her, and she smiled brightly. “You said you don’t remember the girl’s name, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Y/N! She has the same name as you!”

Of fucking course.

“The last name is different, though—” she added as an afterthought. “She was Song Y/N, and you’re not. Still. Isn’t it really cool?”

Not cool at all. You wanted to scream, maybe cry a little and lose a generous chunk of your mind, because as far as you knew, there had never been an instance where you had heard of this story being shared to the public— to an entire class, nonetheless. It shouldn’t matter, right? It wasn’t your life anymore. Just an old, tragic tale passed on from mothers to their children as a bedtime story.

But somehow, it made you feel vulnerable.

How many more people knew about this?

“But, sis. You’re kind of a dummy, though. How could you forget someone’s name when it’s the same as yours?”

Sooah questioned, tilting her head, but it eventually washed pon her that you weren’t looking all too well. You had your lips splayed into an evident frown, worry creasing your forehead, which she could not at all get. Were you okay?

“Did you finish reading all of it?”

You asked after a bout of silence. Sooah shook her head in response. “No, not yet,” she huffed. “My mom caught me making a mess out of her things and scolded me.”

That’s good, you thought. At least she didn’t make it to the end— that would only complicate things. After a second of deliberation, you figured that this would be the best move if you played your cards right.

“Sooah,” you started. “Do you think your mom will let me borrow that story?”

The next day, your classes were all condensed into the afternoon— a deliberate decision to allow yourself to recharge in bed for the entire first half of the day.

But right now it was eight in the morning, yet you were already busying yourself inside the campus.

No, you didn’t have a group meeting today, neither did you have any prior commitments needed to be accomplished here in school, but you figured after not having a single fucking blink of sleep last night thanks to Sooah’s revelations yesterday, you might as well head to school early to apply for the part-time job at the library. Only one problem— where was the library?

It was eight in the morning. You had been here since seven-thirty. Not a single bookshelf in sight. You opted to just give up and mold yourself into the floor because you couldn’t even ask anyone for directions because no one was there.

Well. Almost no one.

You had just passed by a single living soul earlier as you were trudging around the bottom floor like a zombie, but you completely missed him. Na Jaemin caught your disheveled figure marching through the hallways earlier, evidently lost, as he left the faculty office with a steaming hot cup of coffee in his hands. He immediately brightened upon seeing you— as if his bloodstream was directly charged with caffeine, but he didn’t come around to approaching you until now. He couldn’t get the timing.

Even now, as he discreetly tailed behind you without your knowledge, he didn’t know when was the appropriate time to give you a simple ‘hello’. He pressed his lips together, taking in a sharp breath through his nose, and decided screw it— you wouldn’t even be happy to see him no matter the timing.

He picked up his pace and sounded from right behind you.

“Morning, group leader.”

You stopped, swiveling your heels around, and he was met with your grimacing face.

As expected. He gave you a blinding smile.

“How are you?”

“My morning is shit, thank you very much,” you spat. “Even more now, after seeing you.”

Ouch.

Jaemin knew that you weren’t exactly fond of him, and he’d spent too many hours wondering why. Maybe you just disliked him without bearing much of a reason. Some people were like that, but he didn’t hold it against you. He still pressed on with a smile.

And it irritated you.

(You believed that it was irritation, or made yourself believe. Yeah, let’s go with irritation.)

“Now, what do you want?” you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one leg as you looked at him with exasperation. “You’re definitely not here to ask me about our assignment, right? I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I might as well say it to your face for your own good.”

You roughly shoved a finger to his chest, mustering up not a glare— but a plain look of disinterest.

“I don’t like you.”

Jaemin simply looked at you.

“You don’t like me.”

“No matter what you try to do, that won’t ever—wait, what? What the fuck?” you had to double take, expression suddenly morphing into a comical confusion, which Jaemin found cute, but of course he couldn’t say that out loud. He settled with the same smile as earlier, which you found a little more irritating as much as it was conflicting this time around. Within a second of silence, you felt heat slowly rising and you felt it slowly getting to your head. “You’re just gonna take that...as that?”

He let out a hum, shrugging. “I can’t dictate how you feel, can I?”

You gawked at him.

“You’re not even gonna ask why? Not even gonna protest?”

“Do you want me to?” he leaned forward, face a little closer to yours, smile a little more irritating than before, the heat growing a little more prominent than ever, your grasp on your consciousness becoming a little more hard to hold than earlier. You felt yourself getting caught in a stammer. “I would, if you want me to.”

Fuck this shit and fuck it completely.

“Where are you going?”

“None of your business,” you stormed off before you could find yourself getting caught inside a heatwave, breathing out long, fervent breaths to calm yourself down, the dizzying heat slowly getting to your head making you woozy. It would be a bad idea to even turn around and look at him. “I’d appreciate it if you don't follow me.”

Jaemin frowned when he saw your back yet again. He felt like this was the only thing he’d seen from you— your back perpetually facing him without any hope of you even turning around to spare him a quick glance, but he didn’t want to go against your wishes. He wasn’t planning on following you. But when you suddenly collapse on the floor a few feet away from him—

Thud.

—what else was he supposed to do?

(“Your Highness.”

It was without question that he’d answer your call sparing not even a second to waste with those gentle eyes of his, and this time was no different. The only difference being the quirk of his lips— pursed, pouting. He stepped away from the bush of azaleas, and stepped closer to you.

“I thought I told you not to call me that anymore,” he huffed, languidly dropping beside you on the stone bench, taking your hands into his with an earnest glimmer. “Say it. I want to hear you. Please?”

It was impolite to laugh at the prince— a punishable crime by itself. You were fortunate that he liked you enough.

“Your Highness,” you hummed. His shoulders drooped down, visibly dampening, but he shook his head with a newfound resolve and instead lended all of his attention to you, instead. “It is without saying that the very breath you take is incomparable to any person on this land—”

Your gaze darted upwards, looking at him.

“—but why do you choose to come see me everyday in the garden? Even when I am not around?”

He was still for a moment, fazed and the littlest bit taken aback, but not a second too long for you to spare any worry. A newfound smile playing on his lips, he lifted up your hands that he was holding, pressing a tender kiss on your knuckles.

“Why does the sun rise in the east and set in the west every single day?”

He looked at you, continuing.

“Just because it was made that way.”)

“Daegang.”

The whisper that you sounded in your state of unconsciousness caught Jaemin’s ears as he carried you to a vacant room inside the campus hospital. He looked down at you, your voice as clear as day despite the hoarseness of it, peeling himself away from your closed eyes, lashes fluttering above your cheeks before he could stumble over his own feet.

When he gently dropped you on to the bed, the mattress sinking underneath your weight, his windpipes nearly closed, a choking noise escaping the moment he felt you tug him down by the sleeve of his shirt, but he maintained his composure. He dropped your sling bag onto the bedside table, taking notice on the colorful piece of paper peeking out of the bag’s zipper mouth, a huff of a smile when he closed it up. Even you can be a little disordered, sometimes, he wondered in amusement as he gazed down on you.

Jaemin let out a huff of breath, dropping down the chair placed beside your bed, and he pulled out his phone to send a few messages here and there. An hour passed. He noticed you stirring underneath the sheets.

“Ah, you’re awake!”

Maybe you were, maybe you weren’t. You couldn’t tell if the blurred out silhouette of the face you have grown to both hate and love was a mere figment of your memories, or if he was actually real. There was the temptation brought about by your disorientation— to stretch your arm out to his face just to make sure, but you were lucky that your flimsy consciousness came at just the right time before you were to do anything regretful.

“Ugh.”

“You’ve been out for over an hour. Maybe you should just skip your remaining classes today,” at that point you were sure he was real. Na Jaemin had worry laced all over his voice, expression, and posture. It wasn’t a sight welcome to your peace of mind when you had just woken up after passing the fuck out. “What happened? Did you not get enough sleep? Did you skip breakfast? I asked Jeno to buy some food just in case you wake up and I’m not here, but you were unconscious for longer than I expected.”

“I’m fine, I’ll just—”

A regretful action. You tried to stand up, but all that happened was you falling pathetically back onto the bed.

“...”

“Don’t push yourself, Y/N,” Jaemin sighed, tucking you back in and placing a hand on your forehead, and by god you could hear the alarm bells ringing in your ears. “I checked earlier. It doesn’t seem like you have a fever. Oh? You’re starting to heat up, maybe you actually do—”

“I don’t!”

Was it possible to voluntarily pass out?

You threw the blanket over your head.

It was fortunate that he didn’t decide to press on, and instead he just left you alone underneath your makeshift tent to calm the sudden blazing of your face. Did he know that you were embarrassed? Oh god, did he know that it was because of him? Not that it was, of course, but it wasn’t unlikely for him to assume that he was the cause of your sudden temperature rise. It would be much better for him to believe that you did have a fever. Fuck, you should have just told him that you were sick.

“Knock knock,” outside of your blanket shield, you felt something lightly pressed at the side of your head, prompting you to peek outside, just enough for your eyes to be exposed. When you turned around, you were met by a box of Orion Choco Pie, just one of the few snacks that he had brought for you. “Here, have this. Eat.”

You blankly stared at the red box.

“What are you waiting for?”

“Leave it. I’ll eat once you leave.”

“No can do, missy,” Jaemin clicked his tongue, and without your consent, grabbed your nearest hand and opened it into a palm, placing the far too large box on top of it. “I have to make sure that you actually finish it.”

He was resilient.

Much like someone else, you grumbled, opening the packaging and stealing one of the cakes nestled inside. He had a satisfied smile on his face— almost like a proud parent watching his four year old daughter writing her name for the first time. You wanted to throw the damned snack to his face, but voted against the act and took a bite from it instead. “Fine. But for your information, I might have passed out because I barely got any sleep last night, so stop wasting your worries.”

“That doesn’t make things any better,” he said. “How am I supposed to stop worrying after hearing that? You should take care of yourself, Y/N.”

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“I’m not buying it. I have to make sure that you’re getting enough sleep every day.”

“What the fuck? Do you think you’re my mom, or something?”

“No, what the hell? Don’t make things weird,” He grimaced, looking at you in disbelief. Holy fuck. You nearly broke out into a fit, if you were being honest. Na Jaemin who was usually all smiley and kind was looking at you with an expression that you were sure his facial muscles didn’t even have the knowledge to conjure. His next words were nothing more than a low grumble. “How can she think I want to be her mom when I like her? Jeez.”

The choco pie that you’d been eating threatened to climb back up your throat.

“Wh— What the fuck?”

“What?” Jaemin replied naively. “One more time? Should I repeat it? Y/N, I like—”

“Okay, okay, I got it the first time, please—!”

Dear lord, he was going to be the death of you. You took in a long, sharp, painful breath.

“I get it.”

Jaemin looked at you with a small smile. He didn’t seem like he was going to continue teasing, so you quickly scared down the remaining chocolate snake inside the box so that you could slip away from him as soon as possible. That wasn’t the best idea, though, because the choco pie almost ended up going down the wrong throat and the guy was sure to freak out over it. Luckily you managed to get away with forcing it down and having Jaemin only looking at you with a minimal amount of concern.

It was time to get the fuck out of here.

“Thank you for the food, Jaemin, but I need to get going,” he didn’t even get the chance to say anything, but you were already on your feet, ready to set out to the door. You looked back at his frozen stature before reaching out for the door handle. “I’ll pay you back some other time.”

You bowed politely. Jaemin had only gotten back to his senses once he’d realized that he couldn’t see your face anymore, only the back of your head— a sight that he’s used to seeing, a reminder of where he stood. He scrambled to his feet and took off after you.

“Wait, you should drink water first! And take these with you! Y/N—”

Shit. He didn’t want you to leave yet. Not when he’s finally had a proper conversation with you. The two of you were already out in the hallway, the glimpse of light from the heavily clouded sky leaking through the windows and coloring the white walls and floor with an out of place brightness and at one point the light stuck on you. It was difficult to match your pace— staying not too far behind, not right beside you, never ahead of you. He swallowed.

Jaemin felt bad about pulling this, but he couldn’t think of any other way to make you stay.

“Daegang.”

You froze on the spot.

There was a heavy weight anchoring Jaemin’s conscience, falling even heavier as you slowly turned around to face him. It fell to the bottom of his stomach the moment he caught your expression.

“How—” you stammered. “Where did you get that name?”

He pressed his lips together tightly, a considerable distance between the both of you as he averted his eyes. “You muttered it earlier while I was carrying you.”

“C—carrying?”

How else would he have hauled you over to the campus hospital? But an obvious fact such as that was still enough to dumb your IQ a couple of notches down. You would have been fine if he didn’t mention it and leave you in your blissful ignorance, but he just had to drill the existence of that fact that you were in his fucking arms when you had sworn to be a piece of shit to him.

The heat was rising to your head again just like earlier.

“Ah.”

You heard Jaemin utter a sound from a few steps in front of you— a light grumble, you’d assumed, but you weren’t entirely sure— and it was at that moment that you’d realized how freaking awkward the distance between the both of you was. Were you social distancing?

His hollow sigh and evident pout threw all of those meager thoughts out the window.

“Is he the reason why I can’t get close to you?

What the hell does he mean?

“An ex you can’t over?”

You broke into a coughing fit. Jaemin instantly ran over to you in panic, patting your back to help appease the violent coughs, but in reality he wasn’t of any help at all because his palm was barely touching you. “Holy fuck”—cough—“oh god. I guess— I guess you can say that...?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled from behind you. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. It must be a sensitive topic.”

“If you knew that it was touchy then why bring it up in the first place,” you shot him a glare, looking back, but it was less threatening and more questioning. You couldn’t bring yourself to get mad at him at this point. He stood there in blatant guilt, his expression, stature, and demeanor without any intention of hiding it all. This was why you couldn’t get mad at him. Jaemin was transparent.

You weren’t sure if it was just his nature or if it had something to do with you.

You wouldn’t know what to do if it was the latter.

His lips finally parted after a moment of silence to answer you— even if you hadn’t expected an answer in the first place.

“I didn’t know how else to make you talk to me a little longer.”

You didn’t know what to do, at all.

Jaemin’s cheeks were stained with a shade of pink and fuck— you could see in his eyes that were looking at you, trying not to look at you, that he was bearing all the sleeves of his heart to you without an ounce of regret, but a euphemism of the bright red color that he was trying to hide.

God.

Why did you have to meet him in this life?

“Why?” you voiced, quiet. “Why do you like me so much? You don’t even know me that well, and I’m not even in any way nice to you.”

He didn’t answer.

“So, why?”

For a moment, Jaemin kept quiet, as if waiting for the pink to fade from his cheeks before doing anything, but it never did. Even when his lips stretched into a closed smile, his eyes crinkling and showing the stars that weren’t in the sky, he was still tinged with that soft, powdery color.

He didn’t wait. He didn’t wait for you to speak when he left— when he left right after saying two words that stretched inside your mind until the sun set in the west and the skies turned pink.

“Just because.”

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© hannie-dul-set, 2021

[clouditae]

First Love | 07

Yoongi x reader | 18+ | college au | tattoo artist au | angst | fluff | swearing

Word: 2.1k

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

The car ride is awkward for you. Hoseok and Ari are chatting away while you and Yoongi sit in the back in complete silence. This is not what you expected, but it seems that Ari has something else in mind and drags Hoseok along, waiting for who knows how long until the two of you left the shelter. You open your bag, pulling out your camera. Turning it on, and going to your pictures, you begin to browse through all the photos you took today.

“Did they come out good?” Yoongi asks, voice just loud enough for you to hear. 

You look to him, surprised that he’s interested, but his eyes are on your camera. Trying to see how the pictures came out. “Yeah. I got some good ones,” you tell him, showing the screen as you browse through the pictures together. The two of you browse through the photos you took. The photos you took capture the moments of joy for the animals. When they played with Rory, when the dogs ran around the fenced area, not wanting to go inside. Even when Charlie came up to you, sniffing the camera; you got a perfect picture of his big brown eyes and the round of his snout. You then reach the photos of Jasper, you’re clearly aware of Yoongi leaning in close to you. When you reach the photos, you try your best to not linger on the photos of Yoongi and Jasper. 

“Wait,” Yoongi murmurs, and you stop, glancing at him. “Go back.” You click back to the previous photo of Yoongi petting Jasper. “Can you send me that one?” he asks, finally meeting your gaze.

You’re fully aware as to how close the two of you have gotten. Swallowing hard, you reply with a small voice, “Yeah.” 

“We’re here,” Hoseok bellows, making you jump away from Yoongi. 

Turning off your camera, you look out the window to see a building with blue shingles, a big sign running along the wall, and a jukebox like entrance, with different colors. “Mary Ann’s?” Ari asks as Hoseok pulls into a parking space. 

“Yeah,” Hoseok beams, putting the car in park and turning the engine off. “I heard this place is great. Great burgers; amazing shakes. Plus, everything inside is a 50s theme.” He exits the car, giving the three of you no time to say anything. As you close the door, Hoseok is already reaching for Ari’s hand. “I’ve always wanted to go on a double date—or I guess date and two friends tagging along,” he corrects, smiling sheepishly at you. 

“Well I for sure am hungry. Let’s go,” Ari exclaims, walking with Hoseok towards the building, but not before grabbing your hand and dragging you along. You stumble a bit until you finally match her pace, looking both ways to make sure no car is going to hit you since Ari didn’t even bother looking. 

Entering through the blue pastel double doors, you’re immediately hit with the smell of burgers and a song you don’t know but can tell the singer is Elvis Presley. The inside of the diner is your typical diner; booths to the left and right, a counter running along the middle with stools, and a waitress or two wearing blue dresses with their hair up in a bun. The floor is checkered, walls pink with photos of people you recognize and don’t while the seating is blue. You’re pretty sure if you look up a 50s diner, this is it. Hoseok, who is still holding Ari’s hand, who is still holding yours, drags the two of you past several booths occupied by people before finding a booth at the end.

Ari lets your hand go, gesturing with her head to enter the booth. As you get in, expecting Ari to sit next to you, you’re shocked to see her sitting across from you. You shoot daggers at her as she smirks in response as Hoseok occupies the seat next to her and Yoongi slides into the booth next to you. You look to the side, staring at the photos on the wall, only recognizing the photo of the cast from I Love Lucy. Your dad would always drag you into the living room to watch it with him. 

“It’s a family thing,” he would tell you every time you would question him. 

“Welcome to Mary Ann’s,” a voice interrupts, placing four menus on the table as you look up at her. “My name is Irene. Can I get you started on something to drink?” Irene is wearing the blue dress like everyone else, a white apron tied around her waist, and a small white hat on top of her head. She’s pretty, and you can’t help but imagine her living in the 50s. As you all give her your order for drinks, she smiles, writing it down and leaving the four of you. 

“So what’s your project about, Y/N?” Hoseok asks, folding his arms on the table. 

You’re caught by surprise by his sudden question, but quickly recover and answer. “The project is to convince the audience to buy or participate in your project by capturing moments of what your project is about.” 

Irene appears with a tray full of drinks. She hands them out to you, tucking the tray under her arm as she pulls out her notepad and pen once again. “Would you like to order now or do you still need a few minutes?” she asks, eyes meeting yours briefly. You quickly glance at the menu, finding what looks the most appetizing as Hoseok and Ari agree to tell Irene their order. 

After everyone has said their order, Hoseok turns to you. “So your project is to convince people to adopt animals through pictures?”

You nod, taking a sip of your drink. “There are a lot of animals in the shelter that need homes. Especially the older ones.” 

Ari sighs. “I don’t like going to the shelter because all I want to do is take every animal home. My dad wants another dog, so maybe I can convince him to adopt one of the dogs here,” she says, tapping her chin in thought. 

“Is there a way to convince your dad to adopt an older dog?” you ask in a hopeful tone, sitting up straight. 

“An older dog?”

You nod quickly. “There’s an older dog named Jasper. He is such a sweet dog. He loves resting his head on your lap and sleeping.”

Ari laughs, “He’s just like my dad.” Pulling out her phone from her bag, she is typing away at her phone for a few seconds before she locks her phone and puts it back in her bag. “Knowing my dad, he’ll be out here on his day off to look at the animals. Which should be tomorrow or the day after.” She smiles. 

You can’t help but lean back in your seat in relief. Ari’s dad may take Jasper home and he can live the rest of his days in a happy home being loved and taken care of. He won’t be sad and alone when his time comes. You’ll have to send Ari’s dad a big basket of his favorite things if he takes Jasper home. 

“So,” Hoseok chimes in. “Ari and I were thinking about the four of us going camping during break.” The way he looks at both you and Yoongi tells you that he’s not going to take no for an answer. Hoseok seems dead set on getting the four of you to go together. One couple and one person who has major feelings for the other. This is bad.

“No,” Yoongi says blatantly. You turn to Yoongi completely shocked by how quickly he denies the request. 

“What’s your excuse?” Hoseok challenges, a daring look on his face. 

“I’ll be working most likely,” he states, grabbing his glass to take a drink. 

Hoseok sighs, “You can’t be stuck in the studio the entire week.” 

“It won't be the entire week. I’ll be in the shop from time to time, too.”

“How about this”—Hoseok adjusts himself in his seat, pointing a hand in Yoongi’s direction—“I help you with whatever you need if you’ll just come with us.” 

“I’ll probably—” 

Hoseok interrupts Yoongi, “Listen Mr. Producer, I’m gonna convince you no matter what. Every year you spend break either in the studio or shop. I get being in the shop, but I bet your boss will let you go on vacation.” 

Irene appears at the table with a tray of your food. She places your plate in front of you before plastering a smile and saying, “Enjoy.” 

You grab a fry, ready to dig in when Ari speaks up, “Are you going to come with us, Y/N?”

You look up to see both Ari and Hoseok staring at you. Lowering the fry from your mouth, you answer, “Yeah, I’ll go.” You can see the joy in Ari’s eyes and Hoseok’s smile grow. Your original plan is to stay in your dorm since your parents are going on their anniversary trip that week. You could have gone home and stayed there, but it seems like a waste of time when you have everything here. 

“We’ll have lots of fun,” Ari tells you, smiling as she takes a bite out of her burger. 

“What exactly is the plan?” you ask, finally taking a bit out of your food. God is it delicious. Everything about this burger is amazing. From the patty to everything they put on it. It feels like taking a bite out of heaven. 

“We rent out a cabin. Since there may be snow it’s best to just get a cabin so that we don’t die out there,” Ari explains. 

“How much will it be?” you can’t help but ask. You don’t have a nine to five job, and that only means saving up like there’s no tomorrow. 

“Oh don’t worry about that. A friend of mine owes me,” Hoseok tells you. 

Now you’re really curious. “How much are they usually?”

Hoseok stares at you for a moment before glancing away and clearing his throat. “A couple hundred per night,” he mutters, but you hear him loud and clear. 

“A couple—” Ari starts but can’t finish. You look at her. Clearly she didn’t know about this either based off of her shocked expression. “And he’s okay with this?”

Hoseok meets her eyes. “Yeah. He owes me big time.” 

“Did you save his life or something?” she asks, clearly not letting it go. 

Hoseok chuckles. “Not that drastic. I just saved him from failing class.” 

“That’s it?” you and Ari ask in unison, but she was louder than you. 

Hoseok smiles triumphantly. “That was the last class he needed to graduate.” 

It takes a while before Ari finally lets it go. For the rest of the dinner you eat in silence, listening to Ari and Hoseok talking to one another, then you, and Hoseok mainly talking to Yoongi and receiving a few words from him. You want to ask Yoongi questions about his major, but you don’t want to be ignored by him in front of Ari and Hoseok. From how protective Ari is about you, and how friendly Hoseok is, one of them will say something and the drive back will be awkward. 

Maybe you’re just blowing things out of proportion. Maybe you’re not. 

“Is there anything else I can get you guys? Desert?” Irene asks as she begins to grab the empty plates. 

“I want ice cream,” Yoongi requests, not even looking at any of you. 

“Guess we’ll have some shakes,” Hoseok says, suppressing a laugh most likely from Yoongi’s small request. 

After finishing your shake, letting Ari try yours and you trying hers, and paying for your dinner, the four of you leave the diner, making your way towards Hoseok’s car. You can’t deny that you enjoyed today. You finally start on your project, you surprisingly spent time with Yoongi without him questioning you or analyzing you openly, and you had a great dinner with your friends and Yoongi. 

By the time Hoseok drives into the parking lot of the dorms and finds a spot, it’s already past nine. Thankfully you have class at nine tomorrow so you can stay up late to get everything ready for your paper and presentation on your project. You follow Hoseok and Ari through the route towards your dorm from the outdoor stairway. 

Before you turn the corner to pass the staircase leading down to the rest of the dorm building and enter your hall, you feel a hand grab your arm. You turn around to meet eyes with Yoongi. Letting go of your arm, he says, “Meet me at the back parking lot Friday.” 

“O-okay,” you stutter. 

He nods in acknowledgement before walking past your and towards his room. You follow, feeling both happy and dreading meeting with him on Friday.

[adamfoolcry]

of coffees and holidays (d.sc)

pairings: Ballerina!Sicheng x CafeOwner!FemReader

rating: 13+

warnings: swearing

genre: angst and fluff

synopsis: Your and Sicheng's love story in five coffees with varying degrees of sweetness spanning five Christmases.

word count: 3k+

a/n: for @127-mile, I hope I did justice for your prompt. Hope you enjoy reading it. Happy Holidays! 🎅 Thank you to @neoculturechristmas for organizing such fun event. It can be read in chronological order if y'all wanted to. I promise it's a happy ending. Not proofread so please excuse the mistakes, I am so dumb. Please reach out to me if you would like to do so. - xo aria

Christmas 2019 - Espresso

Outside as flakes of snow fell from the sky, like a light shower of glitter from the heavens, the elusive holiday spirit seemingly present in the air; you watched a young couple huddled together to share warmth, fingers intertwined, cheeks glowing red partnered with coy smiles on their faces, and a family of three in admiration of their son as he showed off his Christmas gift. The streetlights emitting an orange glow providing an aura of softness, making everything come together to form a picturesque scene.

Heartwarming as these scenes were, they failed to evoke any emotion out of you; if anything you feel excluded from it entirely. To you the world behind the cafe's glass windows is just a film you're screening in the cinemas, and you were nothing but a mere spectator. You continue to stare listlessly at the throngs of people passing by until they all mesh into a blur of colors your eyes couldn't catch fast enough. That's better.

Inside the cafe although decorated with trinkets for the holidays there was an air of sadness permeating every corner and seated itself onto the furnishings. Lately it seems like sadness is following you around everywhere - like a shadow - and instead of trailing behind you it looms over you shrouding your every thought until it completely consumes you.

No one stepped foot inside the cafe and with no one to entertain your mind drifts to him. Sicheng.

How many days has it been? Since you last saw him. You've lost count, a lie you tell yourself to make the dull ache in your chest bearable. 

It's a torture how you could recall that day - the day you lost him - so vividly as if you are forced to relive it every time the silence eats away at your resolve; to tuck the moment into the deep recesses of your mind, where it can't hurt you. When every little thing reminds you of him, his favorite spot at the cafe, black turtlenecks and that undeleted grainy picture of his sitting in your gallery. 

You could never forget the look on his face, resignation etched into every crevice of his features, a forlorn smile on his lips. 

"I see," he said in a bittersweet tone before he turned his back at you. 

The slam of the door is the nail that hits the coffin. Sicheng is gone. He has already walked out of your life. That was the last you saw of him for he never visited the cafe again.

A month passed by when Sicheng called you. Your heart leaped as his name flashed on your screen and your thumb shakily pressed the answer button; afterwards lifting it near your ear.

There was no greeting as he uttered in his low voice that you have missed so much, "My flight to Russia is this Saturday." 

Your heart sank.

"I want you to see me off, ______." 

Don't go please stay with me but there are certain thoughts that weren't meant to be put into words so instead, "I'll be there." You reassured him.

But you never showed up at the airport that Saturday. Instead, you were at the cafe staring at the screen of your phone blinking on and off as a wave of notifications with his name flooded your phone. Why make things harder? As if him leaving wasn't hard enough. You pressed the power button long enough to shut down your phone.

The following days passed away into months that's a haze in your mind. You can't recall anything worth remembering. You quickly filled up your schedule with mundane tasks just to have something to do filling every gap of your vacant time. 

At night you fell straight to bed, your body collapsing from the physical strain you have subjected it with. Establishing a packed routine without idle time so you don't have time to linger on the dull ache in your chest - always there like a festering wound. This works until you find your list of chores unexpectedly accomplished earlier than you planned, the cafe shrouded in still quietness. 

Alone with nothing else to do the dull ache amplified to a crippling one and it bites you right back in your face, forcing you to acknowledge the hollow feeling that seems to reside in your chest permanently. Your eyes would be heavier, your vision blurry, trying to blink away the tears but ultimately failing as it trails down your cheeks; you clutch at your chest because it hurts and you regret that the last you'll see of Sicheng is that face of hurt he wore.

Christmas 2016 - Vanilla Latte

You placed the cup of vanilla latte sitting on a saucer on the table daintily, pushing the saucer across the wooden table towards the customer, avoiding to make any noise. The customer seemed so engrossed with the novel he is reading - nose almost touching the pages - that you don't want to disturb him. 

The said customer is a regular, there was not a month that he hasn't visited the cafe. Showing up five minutes after you flip the signage to open, with no fail not even a minute late. 

Wearing all black from head to toe, a tall lithe figure, and an androgynous facial structure, your guess is that he works as a model. Even now without trying he is captivating; he makes the cafe look like a set for a magazine spread just by lounging in the matching cherry wood table and chair, and you can't help but stand there and shamelessly stare at him. god really has his favorites.

His work must require him to travel to different countries and have photoshoots in scenic spots, oh how you wish you could also jetset to other countries. Packed schedule for the day that he doesn't have time to think about what he is going to do next. That is a luxury you don't have especially in the ber months for there is a decline in customers and with no one to entertain, your mind goes on an overdrive pondering on uncharted waters of how you have nothing else going for you but run this cafe.

Aside from his penchant to wear all black, read a novel while drinking his choice of beverage - choice of beverage you ask? - you see the other peculiar thing about this man is that he doesn't have a 'regular drink'. Most if not all people who go to a cafe know what they are going to order before they have set foot inside. This man doesn't, his eyes would flit on the menu, scanning from left to right and back again. It is almost ritual like, this would go on for a good minute or two as you drum your fingers on the counter waiting for his order. 

The snow is falling outside covering the otherwise grey pavement white, decorations for the festivities hung around the four corners of your quaint cafe. Yet here he is, nursing a cup of coffee instead of being somewhere else. Doesn't he have a family? to celebrate Christmas with?

"Can I help you?" The man said, turning his face slightly in your direction not quite yet abandoning the book in his hand.

"Ohh uhmm-" you were jolted out of your trance, startled you took a sidestep only to collide with the chair where a large unzipped duffel bag was placed. The contents of the bag spilled over. 

"Shit! I am sorry." You quickly knelt to the ground to pick up the scattered items on the floor, the man joined you. Charger, earphones, epsom salt, bandage, and tiger balm ointment as you picked up the items you also increasingly grew baffled. What a weird assortment of things. You reached for the item that somehow managed to get under the table and as your fingers came in contact with the rough material of the cloth you learned that your assumption of his job was wrong. A man's canvas ballet shoes.

I thought he was a model.

"What?" The man questioned. You wince to yourself you just didn't say that out loud. You emerge from under the table to find that the man was looking at you too intently for your liking. His eyes sought out yours waiting for an explanation and as if you owe him one you started explaining yourself. 

"Well, you are tall and extremely handsome so .." Cringing as the words flew out of your mouth. The man chuckled at your confession, a tell tale sign of a smile on the corner of his lips.

"I am flattered really but as you can deduct by now I actually do ballet." He rose to his feet and offered you his hand to help you stand up. 

Unlike other days where he will leave the cafe after an hour or two, this time he stayed and unlike other days where you find yourself alone in the cafe; you find yourself enjoying the company of this mysterious man. 

Where you quickly learned that all your presumptions about him have little truth in it. You learned that his name is Sicheng, and he is a principal dancer for the Korean National Ballet company not a model although with his looks he might as well be one. Yes, he travels but mostly for tours and performances. He practices an average of eight hours a day. 

Your fascination for his life spurred the conversation as if you were friends catching up with each other. With the book set aside and the contents of the cup long empty you two didn't notice how much time had passed. He bid you goodbye with a promise to visit you again tomorrow. As you watch his retreating figure getting smaller, the snow piling on top of each other over the glass windows of the cafe there was a smile on your lips - the warmth of a newfound friendship is akin to a good cup of coffee - making you warm from the inside out.

Christmas 2017 - Cappuccino

"Surprise me," Sicheng said leaning on his hip at the counter, arms crossed on his chest, when you asked him what he would like to drink. Standing there he looked like the culmination of your dreams.

Maybe it's the iridescent lights from the numerous christmas lights that flickered on his face making him look more exquisite or the grin he gave you after. You did surprise him but not in the way he was expecting and to be honest you are also shocked by your sudden brazenness as you lean in to kiss his plush lips. The kiss didn't last long, a little more than a peck but long enough for you to regret it.

"I .. I am sorry," you stammered burying your heating up face in your hands, embarrassed. You didn't even see Sicheng's reaction, was he appalled? You peeked through your fingers to find out, when Sicheng started laughing, tipping his head back a little, eyes crinkled in mirth, his right hand covering the half of his handsome face. 

You want nothing more than to shrivel up in one corner. He started tugging at your wrists, pulling your hands away from your burning face.

"Mind giving me more of that surprise?" The corner of his lips curved upwards, nose slightly crinkled, and you wished to etch his face to memory.

Christmas 2018 - Americano

He was late, you glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, it is now 11 P.M. and soon Christmas will be over. 

The americano you have prepared already cold, his untouched while yours halfway finished. It's fine though because you know that this will be the first of the many Christmases you have to spend without Sicheng. You must get used to spending it alone again. 

Musing to yourself your mind quickly took a trip down the memory lane of his last visit to the cafe before he got on tour with the company for one of the holiday stage productions. 

--------

You have only heard the thud of the door as it closed on its hinges. You are currently cleaning the countertop back bowed and eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you meticulously scrubbed at the stubborn grease that won’t budge, lifting your head to do the customary greeting, when something or rather someone barreled straight to where you are, engulfing you in a tight hug that shoved you headfirst into that someone’s chest your nose burrowed deeply into the black cloth. 

Recognizing the intoxicating scent of light musk and citrus, relief flooded you as you hugged Sicheng back. You don't know how long the two of you stayed in that position basking yourself with his warmth just a little longer.

He's real, he's here a safe and solid presence by your side. You can count by one hand the things that have endured with you throughout the years, other than the cafe which you have run since your mother got sick, dropping out of college to keep it going. And one of those is Sicheng you've found in him stability and comfort your past partners can't give you.

Sicheng pulled away putting some distance between the two of you, his arms naturally falling at his sides. He was wearing one of his brightest smiles, the apple of his cheeks high and pronounced on his face.

"_______, I've been offered the position of principal dancer at Bolshoi Ballet in Russia," He can't help but smile again clearly enthusiastic with the prospect of joining one of the most prestigious ballet companies.

It took you a moment to answer settling with an unconvincing, "Wow." You don't know how to react with his news, but you feel dread in the pit of your stomach. You don't like the idea of him leaving. You try not to let it show in your face.

"I know. I was also surprised." As if sensing the change in your demeanor he asked concerned, "Is something wrong, ______?" 

"Nothing let me whip you a drink I found from the net," you brushed him off with a wave of your hand. 

----------

"Hey _______, I am sorry there was some minor traffic that held us back," Sicheng announced his entrance that broke your reverie. Setting his duffel bag on the floor to sit on the opposite chair facing you.

His hair tousled, cheeks rosy and nose red but despite his healthy complexion you can also see the pronounced bags under his eyes with a tinge of violet. He looks tired and in dire need of rest. Yet he headed straight to the cafe instead of his apartment. 

"Sicheng I've wanted to tell you something," perching your arms on the table to fiddle with the ear of the cup.

"Yeah?" Sicheng asked, staring right at you.

"I think," you cast your eyes down on the table, and with a small voice continued, "we should break up." 

"You think?" 

"I mean we should"

"Why?"

"I ... it's just that it will be easier for you." Your hands started gesticulating in the air.

"Don't give me that bull shit. You are not the judge of that," Sicheng replied in a cold manner.

"It's just you have this life before me and you'll also have a life after me." Your voice cracked, and you gathered your strength to look at him. "I am grateful that you have been a part of my life. You are crazy talented and right now the world opens up in front you and you deserve better. I can't give you that I ..-," clutching at your chest, "I am just me."

"It's nice to know that you think of me as some temporary phase in your life and here I am fool enough to think that maybe you'll want to come with me to Russia," a cruel laugh slipped from his lips, "christ, I can't even choose what coffee I'll be having and finally for once in my life I've never been so sure of anything," voice trailing, "but us.

"So I'll still ask because I know I will regret it, if I don't. Do you want to come with me?" Sicheng pierced you with his eyes, wearing his heart out on a sleeve. Leaving himself unguarded and hoping you'll come through.

But you have never been brave. "I'll stay and you go."

"I see," he said in a bittersweet tone before he turned his back at you. 

Christmas 2020 - White Chocolate Mocha

"I told you Renjun you don't have to do your shift at Christmas." You look up to reprimand Renjun, and instead are met with familiar feline eyes that seem to see right through you. There stood Sicheng looking like an intricate piece of art displayed in the museums. It is more painful to look at him than anybody warned it would be. It hurts how familiar you are with him still dressed in black - turtleneck and slacks, his trusty duffel bag hanging on one shoulder, he's still the same but now you are nothing more than a past fling to him.

"Hey," Sicheng walked towards the counter greeting you.

"Hey," you shake your head from the trance that took over you, "Oh I'll make you something."

"I'll have a white chocolate mocha." Slightly surprised by his request it took you a second to start preparing it.

"When did you come back?" You inquired as you moved about to prepare his drink.

"Yesterday night" 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have fetched me?" He asked nonchalantly.

You momentarily stiffen evading to answer the question you throw another at him, "How are you? Is Russia treating you well?"

"Can we cut the crap out? As much as I love dancing, I don't like dancing around in circles. I've come back for one reason only." 

"Will you come with me to London?"

Looking at Sicheng standing there - after how much you have hurt him - you thought you will never see him again and you have long accepted that punishment. You are not brave and you will never be but

"Yes, I'd love to go with you."

what you have with him is worth it.

a/n: Read more of my works for NCT here:masterlist

[exodusmc]

“Please stop moving so much..”

Genre: Smut(not too explicit)

Words: 1963

Paring: Sehun  x   Reader

Warning!: Mentions of horror movies and scens(nothing major), public dry humping, very light pet naming and dirty talk, swearing, 

a/n: This one was requested :)

Gif is not mine 

“Come on Y/n!”Chanyeol’s voice was loud over the phone and had always been, ever since you met a few months ago. 

He was in one of your classes and he laughed the loudest out of everyone but he was a good guy, it wasn't hard to get to know him when you had a group project. You two clicked and he was like a brother to you, annoying and nice. Happy virus Chanyeol who moved a little too quick, figurative and literally. You can't count on one hand how many times you seen him trip over air, but he also thought it was a good idea to introduce you to all his friends when you’d known him for about three weeks. 

It had been Sehun first, his roommate, a boy built like a skysharpe with wide shoulders and the deepest eyes you had seen. He was your age and the youngest out of them all. Maybe you had a teeny tiny crush on him, a crush you blamed on his god like features. 

“I promise they want you to come and you have already met everyone, so I don't see why you are hesitant!”Chanyeol and his friends had a movie night every Sunday and he had begged you to come for the last two times, the only times you actually were glad you had work. 

“I know, I know…”biting your lip, you knew you couldn't lie to him or he would send you the biggest puppy eyes and whine for about a month.”Fine, I’ll come..But who is picking the movie?”

“Yes!”you couldn't help at smile at his excitement, a dreading feeling creeping over your spine.”Jongin is...so expect a horror movie, by now!”

Just great..

-

Arriving at his apartment, you wondered if you overdressed or if you stank or if you had something between your teeth or if you should have brought something or if-

The door opened and your thoughts stopped, nothing was in your head, not even a cricket. Just empty..

“Oh, hi..”Sehun stood in the door, his hair pitch black and nothing like the orange you remember seeing on him when you first met him over four months ago.  

Back then had it been short and colored like an orange but now was it long, so long that it fell down to his eyes, and black, so very black.

He moved from the doorway, showing you that you could come in and damn were you feeling your face slowly burning off. You had stared at him for far too long, ogled at the perfection of his face. 

“A-ah, hello to you too..”taking of your shoes you wondered if your horrible gut feeling was telling you to run away or if you were just ill.”I like your hair..”

“Thanks..”Sehun smiled slightly, a twitch on his right upper lip which told you that he was not so comfortable.”I like your li-..hairpin..”

You couldn't marvel too long at what he was about to say since the thundering steppes of Chanyeol shook the ground and you.

“Y/n! You made it!” Sehun was pushed to the side as Chanyeol whisked you away the second your shoes landed on the floor.”See, I told you she would come!”

Waving slightly, you stared back at everyone, mouth feeling way too dry. This friend group had always made you a little confused since it doesn't seem likely that half of them would actually be friends but you guessed that was what made them so close.

“Yes yes, we see now come sit down so we can start the movie!”Jongin grinned to you, like he always did  but you thought you saw something else, a glimpse of mischief that made you sweat. Something was going on,  something everyone else knew.”Hurry hurry.”

The lights were already off but as you glanced around the room did you realize there was a small problem, a tiny problem that weren't actually a problem but still. 

All the seats were occupied, Chanyeol literally squeezed himself between Jongdae and Baekhyun on the sofa, while Kyungsoo and Jongin shared the slightly smaller one. Junmyeon, Minseok and Yixing sat on the floor, while Sehun occupied the last chair.

You had nowhere to sit, all the floor spaces were taken if one wanted to see the Tv. Panic spread through your system and you scolded yourself for not listening to your gut. 

“You can sit with Sehun..”Chanyeol smiled, rolling his eyes after.”He always takes the chair so everyone else has to sit on the floor..”

“I don't!” the younger whined, glancing at you for a second. He doesn't want to share the chair with you...You should have stayed home. 

“Just go sit down Y/n so we can start!”Jongin once again usered everyone to settle down, so with defeat were you making you way to Sehun.

The sofa chair may be big but it wasn't big enough for two people and you contemplated running away when you locked eyes with Sehun. They were so dark but glowed due to the Tv and god had you just stared at his thighs as well. 

You tried smiling slightly, standing still until Chanyeol kicked you from the sofa so you fell right on Sehun. Everyone laughed loudly while you face was bruied against his chest, never feeling the hammering of his heart since yours were flying away. This is going to be a long night.

   The movie was playing and took away most of the tension with sitting on Sehun’s lap but you weren't sure if you liked looking at the screen. 

Jongin’s choice was the silence of the lambs and you hated horror movies, feeling like your soul could jump out your body any second. Everytime Hannibal spoke were you waiting for something to go awfully wrong. And suddenly was he just biting of a cops face, which had you, Chanyeol and Baekhyun screaming. 

You pushed yourself back, face turning until you could press your forehead towards Sehun’s neck, closing your eyes. Your breath fanned across his collarbones and you didn't know it but you had been squirming the whole time on his lap, so Sehun had a hard time concentrating on the film at all. Those fuckers knew exactly what they were doing, making you sit on his lap while they watched horror movies. 

“Are you okay?”Sehun sounded like he was in pain but you were sitting on his things so you guessed he had every right to be. 

“Y-yeah..”glancing up, you managed to get caught in those eyes again.”I’m fine thanks..”

He smiled for a second, gaze finding your lips. They looked too soft and tempting, alluring without you trying. 

   “I need water..”standing up on slightly shaking legs, you stumbled to the kitchen, trying to not think about the movie. 

It left Sehun glaring at each and everyone of his friends, frown pulling down his mouth. They knew about his crush since Chanyeol couldn't keep a secret for his life and still forced him through this situation. 

“Fuckers..”he muttered but his face brightened up when you came back, eyes slightly in a haze. Everything would be fine as long as you wouldn't feel the boner he had.

“Now it’s time for Annabelle!”your eyes widened, hands becoming clammy at the thought. You hated dolls with every fiber in your body and the wanted to watch a movie about them!

Sitting down on Sehun’s lap again, you didn't even want to face the Tv, shamelessly turning your body so you could easily hide. He was warm and the only thing you had in the moment. It’s going to be okay, the sentence repeated in your head over and over again as the film started, adrenaline racing through your system.

You didn't really know Jongin that well but  sure as hell would you beat him for making you watch these movies, softly muttering to yourself a promise of hurt, which was extremely cute to Sehun.

An hour in and you were sitting facing the Tv, eyes locked on the screen as the music became more and more ominous. You leaned forward as Mia’s hand reaches for the window and then you screamed, making Baekhyun and Chanyeol shriek as well. 

Your back pressed against Sehun but this time did he let out a groan and that’s when you felt it, the tent he had in his pants. Gasping, you tensed, forgetting the movie completely and drowning out the chatter of the others.

“P-please stop moving so much..”his whisper was strained in your ear, igniting fire through your body all the way to your core. Sehun’s hands came to rest on your hips, holding you but not sure in what way.”So-sorry..”

He muttered while you felt your cheeks heat up. Your mind wasn't paying attention to the film anymore but to the feeling of his jeans covered things, the fact that you wore thin pants didn't help at all. 

“It’s okay..”your voice was low and innocent, however, your thoughts muddled into differents scenarios which had you screaming in another way.

You actions weren't nice to him but your body had a mind of its own, ignoring all logic and how you were not alone. 

Moving your hips ever so lightly, you turned so you faced him, not looking in his eyes. This was it, you were too horny and didn't want to see Annabelle anymore. Leaning in, you placed your head between his neck and shoulder, legs on either side of his while your knees rested on the chair cushion. 

“I don't mind Sehun..”he swallowed hard, hearing the change in your voice, your lips ghosting over his pulse point.”I...I like it..”

It was like a switch flipped inside his head, fingers digging into your skin while he started to move you across his thighs. Sehun nudged his head so you had to look at his eyes, stare right into cloudy and fiery orbs. A mere inch was left between the two of you and you wanted to kiss him, push your lips against his skin but just sat there, grinding on his lap as your breath came out in pants. 

“Dirty dirty girl..”you tried to ignore the heat his voice spread through you, how the smirk dancing across his mouth made you want to jump him right then and there”Moving your hips so greedy over my thighs..Does it feel nice, hmm?”

Sehun forced you down harder and the denim rubbed against you aching pussy. The tv let out a scream in the exact second you moan softly, covering the sound so no one else heard, no on but Sehun. He was also greedy, greedy for the expression on your face, the pretty gasps from your lips. It was hard containing himself, surrounded by his unsuspecting friends. While you were on the brink of cumming did the end titles start playing and the lights turned on, giving Sehun the chance to see your burning face. Your body was tingling, desperate for release but you couldn't hid there anymore and  you didn't know if you could ask him to go home with you. Another smirk spread all over his face and even if it was late, would he not let you go. 

“I really hate when Jongin gets to choose the movies..”Chanyeol whine as everyone made their way out of the room. He sent a glance over his shoulder, seeing the two of you.”I have somethings I need to do with Kyungsoo so I’ll stay at his place. Night night.”

With that were you and Sehun alone, all alone.

“Now why don't we continue, baby?”

[solllaris]

retrograde — 01

↳ here.

PAIRING: Frat!Tom / Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: It takes some convincing, but you ultimately agree to go to a frat party and are pushed out of your comfort zone in more than one way.

WARNINGS: language, underage drinking, anxiety/panic attacks, & insecure thoughts

WORDS: 5874 

NOTE: This series is my baby so please be nice. The reader’s fears and anxieties are basically a reflection of my own, so posting this makes me feel super vulnerable. There were many moments I seriously considered deleting everything I had made for this series because I was too afraid to put myself out there like this, but obviously I didn’t. I really want the reader’s story to help someone or make them feel like they’re not alone because anxiety can make you feel so isolated at times. So to the person reading this right now, to the person with anxiety or depression or whatever: You are not alone. You will never be alone. And I hope this story shows you that somehow. 

          series masterlist — masterlist — add yourself to my taglist!

Tortoise shell glasses the color of honey inched their way down the bridge of your nose again and you would’ve been greatly annoyed if your glazed-over eyes weren’t focused on the large plastic cup of coffee on the table. Fingers still tensed and poised over the laptops keyboard, your attention had shifted for the millionth time to the dark browns streaking through the blonde colored liquid at the bottom and your fried out brain was mesmerized by it. Anything was more intriguing than the open, half-way completed book review on your computer screen where the blinking cursor taunted you from the corner of your eye. At your wits end, you turned away completely with a groan that you stifled with a hopefully motivating gulp of your iced cold brew swirled with caramel.

Shoving the frames further up your nose where they belonged, you nursed the straw of your coffee between your tongue and teeth and glanced briefly about the room. The Learning Commons was fairly full for ten in the morning, but you weren’t too surprised; it was the go-to place to go — not only to get coursework done, but also to just unwind and mess around. That Friday morning hadn’t been any different from the rest and bleary-eyed college students milled about, drinking their caffeine from the God-sent Starbucks in the building and chatting to their friends through sleepy slurs. For a person who really enjoyed people-watching, the Learning Commons was the prime place for you to spend most of your time. You blended in and fell into the shadows just as you liked.

Blinking twice, you realized you had zoned out again. Your vision focused and you saw you had been staring blankly across the room at a boy drooling all over his open textbook. His slackened grip around his mechanical pencil kept allowing it to fall over in his hand, rousing him each time for only a few seconds and then he was out cold again. The sight made you laugh under your breath and you impulsively tipped your head back onto your roommate’s thigh from where she was sprawled out on the couch behind you. Just as you wanted, Scout’s fingers that had been raking through your hair stilled to let you know you had her attention.

“Look,” You said loud enough for her to hear over the raucous youths around you and discreetly pointed across the way at the sleepy boy. “That’s about to be me if I don’t get this paper done soon, I swear to everything Holy.”

A snort exploded through her nostrils and your head jostled with the movements of her leg kicking the guy whose lap they rested in. 

“Jude.” 

Another harsh nudge to his thigh and the frustrated boy mashed a button on his video game controller, a ‘paused’ message appearing on the flat screen TV. A harsh, pointed look urged her to continue so he could get back to his game. 

“That guy over there looks just like you.”

When you glanced back over, the drooling guy had completely given up on at least attempting to remain upright to look like he was getting work done. His cheek was smashed against the pages of his book, pushing his lips out in a pucker face, and his wrecked hair stuck up at odd angles on his forehead. An unbridled bubble of laughter threatened to come up your throat and you had managed to contain it — until a little string of drool puddled on the paper his cheek rested upon. Both you and Scout shook with the force of your giggles and you briefly found yourself thinking that it probably wasn’t that funny, but to a sleep-deprived university student it was comedic gold.

Jude must’ve shoved Scout’s legs off his lap if the loud ‘thud!’ of her feet hitting the floor beside you were any indication. They came dangerously close to knocking over your cup of caffeine — the only thing getting you through the early hours of the morning — and you were quick to snatch it up, cradling it to your chest like a protective mother. Your look of disgust towards your two friends was completely ignored, overlooked by Scout’s cry of protest and Jude’s annoyed, but slightly amused, glare at the girl.

“That’s what you made me pause my game for?” He huffed, tugging his fingers through his dark tufts of hair.

She shrugged, a shit-eating grin on her face as she plopped her warm toned legs back onto his lap. “Y/n said it first, not me.”

You were mid-sip, a mouthful of bitter coffee coating your tongue when you squealed a close-mouthed noise of protest, widened eyes flickering between your friends. 

“I did not!” You cried once you’d successfully swallowed without choking. “I said that would be me if I didn’t finish my paper soon.”

“Lies,” Scout muttered.

Twisting your body to face her, the back of your hand smacked against her bare outer thigh, a loud and satisfying ‘smack!’ emitting from the harsh flesh on flesh contact. Your puppy dog eyes turned to Jude, bottom lip jutting out just slightly and he laughed, the action making his irises twinkle and scrunch closed.

“I’d never say that about you, J,” You said cutely.

He bumped his knee against your right shoulder lightly, jostling you to the side, and rolled his eyes but the tiny upwards lift to the corners of his mouth told you he was far from annoyed.

“Alright, alright, I believe you.” He groaned, quickly flicking his gaze back to the TV and unpausing his game. “Fuck you and your puppy eyes.”

Grinning triumphantly, you sipped your coffee happily and flopped back against the front of the couch. The sleeping computer screen on the coffee table immediately put a pin in your bubble of contentment, an instant frown replacing the bright smile on your lips. You set aside your half empty cup with a heavy sigh and swiped a finger along the smooth track-pad, waking it from its automatic sleep to tuck back into the four page book review for your U.S. History class. The cursor blinked approximately five or six times before you began to type, but you had barely written three words when the glass doors of the Learning Commons burst open and a group of rowdy boys piled through the entrance.

Well, you thought. Maybe just one more day of procrastinating won’t hurt.

A muffled groan sounded from Scout. “Great. Your frat brothers decided to grace us with their presence, J.”

Your fingers went slack over the lit up keys and you slouched defeatedly; at the rate you were going, the outcome of your paper was beginning to look more and more dim, but the fraternity boys couldn’t care less that some people were actually attempting to get their assignments done by their due dates. They joked and jostled each other and you kind of hoped they could feel the blazing burn of your laser-beam glare you shot their way, but their oblivious grins stuck a pin in your wishes. You watched them for a moment longer as they split off, some falling into the snack bar or coffee line while others drifted towards a vacant table or couch; you took that as your cue to pack up your things and traipse across campus to the library. (Why did you pick somewhere so loud to write a whole ass paper anyway?)

Scout managed to tear her attention from her phone long enough to notice you zipping up your bag and beginning to stand. 

She quirked a perfectly shaped brow and asked, “Where are you going? It’s only 10:30; our Psych class isn’t until 12.”

“Thanks for the reminder. I wasn’t aware that the class I’ve been going to every Friday for a month now doesn’t start until 12,” You bit back with the most deadpan tone you could muster.

Jude snorted without taking his eyes off the TV, his fingers never ceasing their rapid movements between buttons on the game controller. Scout responded with a swift kick to said controller (which earned her a string of expletives as he fumbled to retrieve it off the floor) and waggled a chipped nail-polished finger at you.

“First of all, the ‘tude is not appreciated and second, both of your friends are sitting right here so my question is very valid.”

“Okay, rude.” You pouted sulkily as you gathered your hair to tie it up into a bun with the velvety pink scrunchie on your wrist. “And if you must know, I’m going to the library because it’s way too loud in here to write a paper.”

“Ugh.” Scout groaned and threw her legs off the side of the couch, rolling off onto the floor in the most ungraceful maneuver you’d ever witnessed in your life. “I guess I’ll go with you. I still haven’t finished that Biology worksheet due today.”

“Really?” You inquired absentmindedly as you fiddled with your messy bun in the reflection on your darkened phone screen. (She was taking forever and you needed something to do so you didn’t look like a complete moron.) “I finished it like the day she handed it out last week.”

You didn’t even have to look over at the caramel-skinned girl to know that she had rolled her eyes hard enough to get stuck inside her head. “Literally no one asked,” She retorted.

“Mmm, and to think I was actually going to give you all the answers..”

Just as you watched her expression morph into a sickly sweet one, a shrill whistle cut through every conversation in the room. The loud chattering of college students died down to muted whispers until the only distinguishable sounds were the whirring of the old air conditioning unit in the building and the clambering of shoes against wood; once you turned away from Scout you saw that the latter had come from a blonde boy in basketball shorts standing on a table in the center of the room. Kappa Sigma was emblazoned proudly across the chest of the scarlet colored hoodie he wore and you fought the urge to roll your eyes because of course he was in a fraternity.

The blonde frat boy’s voice faintly resonated in your ears, but you turned away from his dramatic display anyway to latch onto the sleeve of Scout’s over-sized Harvard University t-shirt. You insistently tugged on the crimson colored material because you really just wanted to get a head-start on your paper. Instead of relenting and following you, she simply shrugged you off and it was then that you got distracted with one look at a stupidly attractive guy in a stupidly, tight t-shirt.

If you had ever seen someone who was truly poured into a shirt it was this guy. The gray material was stretched taut across his pectorals and abdomen, dipping and curling into each chiseled line on his body. The stitching around the short sleeves looked two seconds away from ripping open as his biceps bulged from the way he stood with his arms crossed over his chest. You didn’t think the view could get any better until your eyes slid further up to a jawline that could probably cut straight through glass and to top it off, a head full of effortless curls—your ultimate weakness. You were pretty sure you were gaping open-mouthed at him at that point, but it wasn’t everyday that you saw a real life fucking angel on campus.

So yes, you gaped at him. Proudly.

Until you were caught...which you were seconds later.

Your heart dipped dangerously low in your chest and for a moment it felt like the warm blood in your veins had turned to ice. That feeling of sudden panic from such a cute guy looking at you prompted you to swiftly turn away; the cold you had felt literal seconds prior shifted to an uncomfortable warmth as the shock of being caught staring shifted to embarrassment. Your brain raced almost as quickly as your heart and you tried to pretend to focus on the blonde guy standing on a table to calm down, but then you made the dumb decision to sneak another peek.

Big, big mistake on your part.

Insanely hot frat guy was still looking at you. Not only was he still staring, but the beginnings of a smirk were forming on his pink lips and maybe he was not-so-subtly flexing his biceps. Seeing the corded muscles ripple and bulge under his tan skin truly was entrancing and if Scout hadn’t grabbed you by the material of your sweatshirt you would’ve stood and stared for a little bit longer.

Fingers snapped in front of your face and you blinked once, twice, three times before she really came into focus. She shot you a funny look and asked, “Seriously, what were you staring at?” She followed your gaze when your eyes instinctively shot back towards the insanely hot frat guy—who had thankfully looked away. “What is wrong with y—ohhh.”

A shit-eating grin stretched across her face and you immediately groaned. “Don’t start, okay?” You grumbled and finally managed to pull her towards the glass double doors. “He’s stupid hot and I was respectfully looking.”

Scout snorted from behind you as you held the door for her, both of you stepping outside and beginning the trek across campus to the library.

“You were point two seconds away from drooling,” She teased, bumping your arm with her elbow.

You felt the heat tickling at your cheeks and ears again, so you quickly changed the subject.

“Anyway,” You said pointedly, shooting her a look that could kill. “What was that whole ‘getting on the table’ display about?”

“Right. I forgot you were a little... preoccupied.” She smirked and dodged your incoming fist, giggling like a maniac. “Okay, okay! There’s a party at the Kappa Sigma house tonight.”

Scrunching your nose up at the mention of a party, you tossed your empty cup of iced coffee in a trash bin as you passed.

“Well, I have a hot date with Doctor McDreamy and I can’t miss it. You know how much I love me some Derek Shepherd.”

Just as you reached for the door handle to the library, she smacked your hand away with a serious expression.

“C’mon!” She whined, her bottom lip jutting out like a child. “You’ve never been to a party with me. It’ll be fun!”

“My definition of ‘fun’ is very different from yours, Scout.”

A sly smile turned her full lips upwards again. “Tom will be there…”

Your brows furrowed as you wracked your brain to put a name to a face. Tom. Did you know a Tom?

“Um. Am I supposed to know who that is?” You asked cluelessly.

Scout groaned. “Tom Holland. The guy you were ogling in the LC,” She explained with a ‘duh’ tone in her voice.

Absentmindedly you fiddled with the strap of your shoulder bag. You were already growing tired of the conversation and wished she’d just drop it; if anyone knew your anxiety situation, it was her and you thought she’d learned by now that you would never set foot in a party. Attending a frat party of all things was sure to bring on a panic attack and you’d rather not hyperventilate in front of a bunch of testosterone-filled college guys. No way in hell.

Exhaling an exasperated sigh, you shifted on your feet tiredly and let your head fall back towards the sky.

“Is that supposed to convince me?” You shifted around your friend and managed to snag the door open before she could stop you. “Because it’s not working.”

Save for a girl lightly snoring on one of the couches and a guy wearing glasses slaving over his keyboard, the library was practically barren. You immediately felt comforted as you traipsed along the outskirts of the large room, like a warm hug after coming home from a long day; except it was barely after eleven in the morning and you were ashamed to admit that you already needed comforting. Whilst another large exhale huffed past your lips at the thought, you dropped your bag down on the worn cushions of a couch pushed under a window and plopped yourself next to it rather ungracefully.

A rather loud thump resounded through the room as Scout carelessly deposited her own things on the floor by a comfortable looking arm chair; she simply shrugged at your warning glance, mumbling “those two are dead to the world anyway” under her breath and turned to pull a black binder from her backpack.

Soon, the silence between you two was filled with the clicking of your fingers across the keys on your laptop and the scratching of her mechanical pencil on paper. It was nice—relaxing even—and you sunk further into the soft couch that hugged your body, your mind only filled with the words you needed to get down to finish your stupid book review.

What kind of history class has to write a book review anyway? This wasn’t English.

You should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

A small wad of balled up notebook paper hit your left cheek, bouncing off and into the crack between the cushions. Before you could retort, she was already whispering vehemently.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the party.” She stabbed her pencil in your direction as she spoke. “You’re going. Plus, I’ll be with you the whole night. Promise.”

Arguing with Scout was like arguing with a brick wall—pointless and you’d never win and you honestly just wanted her to shut up at this point; so even though the idea of standing in the Kappa Sigma frat house while the plaster walls vibrated and bodies jostled around you almost made you want to throw up, you reluctantly agreed to go with her. You tried to convince yourself it wouldn’t be so bad, that your best friend would be at your side the entire night, but you still couldn’t shake the butterflies in your belly the entire day.

Just as you’d expected, you were pretty sure you were this close to blowing chunks in Kappa Sigma’s bushes.

The lawn was crawling with college students bearing drinks and you were thrown into the middle of them, one hand clasped in Scout’s as she led you up to the porch and the other anxiously fiddling with the hem of your gingham printed shorts. You were hyper aware of everything happening around you: knocking shoulders with a short, blonde girl, the loud shouts over a game of flip cup, the bass of the song playing in your chest, and a putrid, skunk-like smell that caught in your lungs no matter what you did. Already you wanted to leave, but one look at your best friend’s excited face had you willing yourself to suck it up and try to have fun.

Clutching onto Scout’s hand like it was your only lifeline, she guided you through the foyer and an expansive dining room before reaching the kitchen and the pressure in your chest lifted enough to calm your racing heart; it was significantly less crowded, only inhabited by a small group of girls and a guy with his head stuck in the refrigerator. You watched as Scout paid none of them any mind and instead helped herself to two red solo cups, pointing the nozzle to the keg in one and letting it fill with the sepia toned beer before doing the same with the other cup.

You had just opened your mouth to protest, but the look she shot you had the words dying in your throat.

“Just trust me, alright?” She said and you let her shove the full cup into your hand. “It’ll help with your nerves.”

For a brief second your gaze flickered to the group of three girls seated at the kitchen island, all huddled together and speaking in low tones. It made your skin prickle and heat up and you wondered if they were talking about you—how out of place you seemed.

The white brim of your cup slotted between your glossed-up lips and you took a hefty swig. You immediately scrunched your face up in disgust at the bitter, watery taste of the ale but you were willing to down it if it drowned out your impending anxiety for the night.

“Ugh.” You cringed and peered at the frothy beer in distaste. “How do you drink this shit?”

Scout just grinned and raised her beer in the air.

“Cheers bitch,” She hummed and downed a gulp big enough to puff out her cheeks with the liquid. “Now drink up.”

So, you did cautiously while she retrieved her phone from her back pocket; you distantly heard her say the words “text” and “Jude” but you were more focused on the guy leaning against the counter a few steps away. It was the same guy who’d been rummaging in the fridge when you came in and it appeared he’d found what he wanted: a bottle of Michelob Ultra that he held by the neck. His other hand was occupied by his phone, his head tilted downwards as he scrolled with his thumb, but then he tipped it back to sip his drink and your heart plummeted.

You wasted no time grabbing Scout by her bicep to get her attention.

“Don’t look now but super hot frat guy, Tom, is literally right there,” You whispered frantically through gritted teeth and tugged her towards the exit.

Of course, she resisted. The “don’t look now” part of your sentence slipped in one ear and out the other because she turned back to glance at him with the subtlety of a hand grenade. Her small squeal had you yanking her back around, your stomach rolling with enough nerves to make you vomit for real this time.

“I literally just said—”

Just after the words left your mouth, Jude sauntered into the kitchen, loudly exclaiming: “Tom, man, how long does it take to get a drink?” Then, his six-foot-three hulking physique lumbered towards you and Scout—which effectively made Tom’s dark brown irises lock onto you. “And why have you guys not answered my texts? We’re about to start another round of flip cup.”

Recognition flashed in his eyes and you wished you were dead. You knew you should’ve stayed in the safety of your dorm with Meredith Grey and Derek Shepherd. Why didn’t you?

Maybe it was because you were the biggest pushover on campus?

Yeah, that had to be it.

“Sorry, mate.” Tom didn’t glance away from you as he spoke. You noticed a smirk playing at his thin lips before it was covered by the open top of his beer bottle when he took a drag. “I guess I got a little... distracted.”

His little jab at you didn’t go unnoticed.

Yep, he definitely recognized you from earlier in the day when you practically undressed him.

Deep down you knew he was just messing with you, but you couldn’t help feeling humiliated—like you were the center of a joke and not the kind of joke where he was laughing with you; suddenly overcome with a need to escape, you ignored his remark and turned to Scout and Jude instead.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna go to the bathroom or step outside really quick.”

You barely heard her concerned voice asking if you wanted her to come with you before you were high-tailing it out of the room and up the dark wooden stairs in the foyer. You took them two at a time and in your haste to ascend them, the smelly beer in your still-full-to-the-brim cup sloshed over the rim and saturated the front of your black shirt and flowy shorts. Your face contorted in discomfort at the feeling of your wet clothes sticking to your skin as you slowed down, reaching the top floor at a more careful pace. The paranoid feeling that everyone was watching you make a fool of yourself began to set in and just as your breathing started to escalate, you ducked into the first bedroom you saw and quickly shut it with a click.

Absentmindedly, you sat your now half empty beer cup on the dresser by the door and slumped back against the wood. The cold doorknob pressed into the bottom of your spine but you didn’t care because all you could think about was the soaked fabric clinging to your front, Tom’s subtle mocking comment, and the feeling you’d felt coming up the steps.

In the back of your mind you knew how dramatic and blown out of proportion you were acting; your anxiety, however, didn’t get the memo. So there you were, panting and quivering in some random frat guy’s room with tears pooling at your lash line. You were beginning to feel nauseous lurches in your stomach and all you wanted was to go home.

You’d never wanted to be here in the first place.

An uncomfortable warmth bloomed in your chest around your heart—a feeling you were all too familiar with. If you had to guess, you assumed it was the way a heart attack might feel. You were panicking for absolutely no reason at all and all that you knew was that you needed to get out of here.

With shaky hands, you pulled your phone out of your bra and wiped away the sticky residue from the beer before composing a new text to Scout.

Sent at 11:33 PM: i feel sick. i think i’m gonna head back to our dorm

Then, feeling inexplicably guilty for not even trying, you typed again as your tears left splotches on your screen.

Sent at 11:33 PM: i’m really sorry

The click of your phone locking sounded like a blaring horn to your over-sensitized body and you slumped tiredly into a desk chair, shoving your phone somewhere on the desk carelessly. You were still shaking and you didn’t know if you were cold or hot and bile had started to burn your throat and in your hazy mind you swore you heard the doorknob turning but who knows?

“Uh, what the fuck are you doing in my room?”

If you thought you were going to throw up before then you definitely were now.

You grabbed the trash bin beside the desk and hung your head over it, the contents of the day emptying from your anxious stomach.

“Christ,” The guy grumbled in annoyance. Didn’t you know that voice from somewhere? “Of course. A drunk girl chooses my room to throw up in out of all the fuckin’ other rooms in this house.”

Shame crept up your neck and made you feel even hotter than you already were. You felt like such a mess—you reeked of alcohol, your hair was damp from a cold-sweat, and a stranger had just witnessed you puking your guts out. Great.

You couldn’t speak. All you could do was take shaky, staggered breaths and sniffle through your tears but you did manage to see who the mean guy in the room with you was. Just as your luck would have it, the guy whose bedroom you’d taken hostage in was none other than Tom Holland.

Your stomach twisted and again you ducked your head back in the bin to puke some more.

“Look. I’m sorry you feel like shit and drank too much but you’ve gotta get outta here.” You felt his large, strong hand curl around your bare bicep to tug you up out of his chair. “C’mon. Time to go.”

It was at that moment Tom finally noticed three things: that you were the girl from earlier in the LC, then again in the frat’s kitchen, that you were shaking like a leaf against him, and that you were struggling to breathe normally. It was clear to him you weren’t throwing up because you were drunk; you were throwing up because you were having a full-blown panic attack.

In his bedroom.

And he’d been nothing but a dick to you so far.

“Woah, hey, hey,” He murmured softly, his voice taking on a much gentler tone. Delicately, he brushed the sweaty hair from your warm cheeks and allowed one of his palms to meet the small of your back. “It’s okay. You’re alright, darlin’.”

You focused all your attention on the quiet hum of his voice in your right ear and the silver cross necklace rising and falling on his chest with each breath. You tried to sync your breaths with his even, steady ones and although it took awhile, you managed to calm yourself down to a non-hysterical state.

Tom’s fingers, however, never faltered in their dance along your spine. “Good girl,” He hummed soothingly.

Tingles tickled at each of your vertebrae.

Good girl. Was he trying to kill you?

Clearing your throat, you set the trash bin beside the desk where it lived and stood up to move closer to the door and away from Tom. You were pretty sure you’d embarrassed yourself in front of a hot guy enough for one day and didn’t want to do anything rash...like jump his bones for calling you a good girl.

You felt yourself getting hot again.

“I’m sorry.” You fiddled with the damp hem of your shirt, unable to meet his gaze. “I just...needed some air and then I spilt beer all over myself and—yeah.”

“Hey, it’s alright.” He shrugged like a girl having a panic attack in his room was normal, then gestured to your ruined outfit. “I’ve got some stuff you can borrow if you want.”

“Oh! No, it’s okay, really—”

“C’mon. That can’t be comfortable,” He said with a raised brow. He was already rummaging through his dresser drawers before you could protest anymore. “Let me help you out, alright? I’ve already been the biggest dick to you tonight.”

You couldn’t argue with that, so you took the clean clothes from his outstretched hand and sent him an awkward smile.

“Thanks. I’ll, um, get these back to you. Sometime.”

He grinned at how awkward and fumbly you were. It was cute. He liked that he was the cause of it.

“Sounds like a pretty good plan to me,” He agreed cheekily, unable to hide the smile on his lips. “Gives me an excuse to see you again, huh, darlin’?”

Oh.

This boy was definitely trying to make you explode and you were two seconds away from doing so, sweat pooling even quicker in areas you didn’t even want to fathom.

Thankfully, before you had the chance to embarrass yourself any further, Tom turned his back on you, chuckling lowly under his breath and urged you to get changed.

As you toed out of your high-tops and peeled your sticky, black shirt from your torso, your attention wavered just as you reached for his heather grey t-shirt. You distractedly grasped the soft material to put it on, but you were too entranced by Tom’s back muscles through his own shirt to follow through.

The fabric was stretched taut over the expanse of his broad shoulders and every little movement allowed you to see the rippling muscle that was underneath it. Your fingers itched to slip under his shirt and feel his toned back for yourself, to lightly dig your n—

“Jude said your friend is waitin’ for you on the porch.” His English twang had you throwing the clean clothes on hastily before he turned back around. “I’ll walk you down.”

All you wanted was to get out of this frat house and into your shower as quickly as possible so you agreed even though you felt like your insides were on fire.

You gathered your dirty clothes and hooked your fingertips into the canvas backs of your shoes before you were ushered out into the corridor. The party seemed to have thinned out a considerable amount with only the occasional person loitering about on the second floor; the thought of someone seeing you with Tom’s baggy clothes on made your cheeks flush and you tilted your head down towards the floor, avoiding anyone’s curious eye. To your anxious mind, it felt like everyone was watching you and Tom descend the grand stairs in the fraternity’s house so you held your gaze with the dark hardwood floor the entire trek to the porch.

His warm palm met the small of your back for the second time that night and you cautiously glanced up into his dark brown irises. You were surprised to see the incredibly soft edge they had taken on and even more surprised by the way your spine instinctively arched against his hand.

A guy had never touched you like this before—it felt intimate and tender and you were a stranger to it.

“Hey.” He had to stoop down towards your ear so you could hear him over the still-blaring music. His breath tickled your neck and his bottom lip brushed the tip of your ear. You couldn’t stop from shivering. “Are you alright?”

No, you weren’t. He was really, really close and your heart was beating dangerously fast again.

“Yeah,” You breathed in reassurance, pushing what you hoped was a convincing smile. “I’m okay. Just tired.”

He didn’t look completely convinced. However, he didn’t push the subject further and you were grateful.

“Alright.” He nodded and it was silent for a split second until you both reached the front door. “You look beautiful in my clothes by the way.”

And then Tom was pushing open the door and there on the porch like he said was a worried Scout. Thankfully, she was way too preoccupied with hurtling questions of “are you okay?” and “what happened?” for her to notice the way your skin was flushed and how you couldn’t quite look anyone in the eye.

The weight of the fingers splayed along the base of your spine disappeared as Scout swept you away from Tom and into her crushing embrace.

“Oh my God!” She shrieked as she hugged you to her, your bundle of clothes and shoes between you digging into your stomach. “You scared the hell out of me. Did you fall in the toilet or something?”

For the first time in what felt like forever, a small snort of a laugh left your throat.

“I’m fine,” You reassured and tangled your digits with hers, tugging her down the porch stairs with you. “And no, I didn’t ‘fall in the toilet.’ I just want to go home and drown myself in the shower.”

“Good. You smell like shit.” Her nose wrinkled. “And please enlighten me on how you ended up in Tom fucking Holland’s bedroom.”

You laughed again and spared a glance over your shoulder.

Tom still stood on the porch, readjusting his backwards hat over his brunette curls. You caught the little smirk on his lips and you swore he winked before Scout was tugging you further up the sidewalk and you were forced to turn back around.

Every inch of your body tingled.

It wasn’t until you stood under the shower head’s chilly spray of water back in your residence hall that you realized you’d left your phone in Tom’s room.

TOM TAGLIST:

@xoxohollands​ ♡ @outshineallthestars​ ♡ @pcterparxer​ ♡ @worldoftom​ ♡ 

RETROGRADE ONLY TAGLIST:

@softholand​ ♡ @sushiinmidnight​ ♡ @stuckonspidey​ ♡ 

[ayankun]

WandaVision episode 6

FIRST OFF

Whenever I go back to pause things for clues, and find exactly what I’m looking for, I don’t feel justified, I feel that much more insane:

It’s really hard to make out, but I had an alright look at it on my folks’ QLED, and it’s definitely a flying saucer doing an alien abduction on what looks to be a person inside an old CRT TV (with some kind of robot head/boombox on top???)  There are secret aliens in this show, you guys, the facts don’t lie.

HmmmMMMM I wonder if Agnes is as innocent as she looks:

Also, I didn’t see that she was wearing the brooch in this ep, and I was majorly disappointed in that.

Two things here:

No, that’s not a twins joke.

Another Moonmen Confirmed

I know green is his color or whatever, but that hat is literally 10 years ahead of its time

Also, I took the playing-DDR-at-home scenario at face value, and only on the first rewatch did I realize it was a very pointed turn-of-the-century reference.  I am an Old.

There’s a good, subtle Rule of Threes in this ep.  The Setup:

The Sokovian Halloween flashback works on so many levels.  It’s so funny:

The fact that they went trick-or-treating at all

The “speaking Sokovian”

The treat being a fish

They have to share the fish

The concept that this event gave them an infectious disease

“You probably suppressed a lot of the trauma” -- it’s a good sitcom joke but.  the trauma is the joke.  The joke IS THE TRAUMA!!!

Elizabeth Olson is a dream with all her wonderful faces she has this ep.

Vision’s unsettling passive-aggression-sitcom-cooperation whiplash is WOW, consider me unsettled!!!!!!  “Be. Good.”  UGH.

(Just noticed one here, but there are a number of continuity errors in this episode, enough to be distracting later on, and is this a deliberate choice?  Please let it be deliberate.  I didn’t watch a whole lot of Malcolm in the Middle, is it known for its continuity errors?

)

“It’s their first Halloween.” LOLOLOL they are TEN YEARS OLD and this is their FIRST halloween I LOVE IT

DOUBLE RED HERRING CONFIRRRRRRRRMED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Agent Jimmy Woo accidentally identifying himself as the sassy best friend added 20 years to my life.

Found.  FOUND.  Not “created,” “manifested,” “willed into being using my insane witch powers.”  Third Party Confirmed.

I like that it’s the 90s and we can swear on TV now.  “Hell” “kick-ass” “damn it” “fu---dge”

I think the most biting part of Vision finding the whacked out folks is that the soundtrack just kind of ... ignores that anything’s wrong.  Yeah, it’s kinda-spooky Halloween music, but it’s still 100% in-world kinda-spooky-sitcom-Halloween-episode music. 

OKAY LET’S TALK ABOUT THE AD:

As a 90s child, let me tell you, this is a blisteringly accurate representation of children’s marketing from the period.  The shark is wearing sunglasses AND he has a surfboard!!!  And he’s selling you yogurt of all things!!!!!  This is the supreme distillation of what being a child in the 90s was like.

How disappointed I am that they went with crab instead of lobster.

Heard it through the grapevine that this is a representative of Wanda’s imprisonment on the Raft.  That happened in Civil War, right?  So the next ad is The Snap?  We’re running out of iconic decades, too. so, hold on, new thought.

90s: Civil War

00s: Infinity War

10s?????: Endgame???? or?????????

??: Whatever happened between Endgame and WandaVision, given that the ads are stepping forward through Wanda’s IRL life events!!

I don’t want to know how many episodes are planned/announced, but I don’t know what to expect from the format after they run out of decades from which to draw.  Maybe there are only one or possibly two “sitcom” episodes left.  Maybe after that it just breaks down and they can pick and choose from the worlds/styles we’ve already established.  That’d be p neat.  A very unique kind of chaos.

god she’s so cute

Okay, somebody explain to me Pietro.  I honestly walked away from last week thinking he was just some townsperson chump, but then I was reminded that this is the Quicksilver actor from all those X-Mans movies I never watched, soooo people are saying Multiverse Confirmed?  But, if this is X-Mans’ Pietro, then why did he die the same as MCU Pietro?  Or is he literally MCU!Pietro’s corpse, given that he looked all dead same as when she saw Vision’s corpse?  If MCU!Pietro, then why different face???

????????????????

Also I found him highly suspicious, what with all the questions he was asking.  But the only sort of person who would truly want to know the answers to those questions would be someone who already had them ... so I think he was just asking on behalf of the audience, and the delivery was all wonked out.

Rule of Threes - The Reference:

Ok, real talk, whenever computers/networks/data/encryption/servers/mainframes et al come up in mainstream media, I just look away.  I don’t need the kind of psychic damage that comes with such egregious mishandling of the topic.

That being said, does Hayward having eyes through the barrier mean that he could possibly be involved in getting it set up?  Because look.  If Hayward-after-Hayward’s-Villianous-Ends is one antagonizing force, then is there really room for the Third Party (Confirmed) antagonizing force that’s lurking in the negative space silhouette of the Inciting Incident?  With Wanda as the Red Herring antagonizing force, that’s just.  There’s just too many villains, alright?  We gotta start merging these plotlines.

(then again, when I just said “eyes” I realize probably understanding the true nature of his new secret “CATARACT” project will clear a lot of things up.  I’ll wait for enlightenment)

Agnes’ license plate in this episode is 0A1-B2C, which I think is a reference to the way reality is getting pared down to bare bones at the edge of town.  Note that this is not the same license plate number as seen last ep.

ALSO, I drove home behind a NJ plate just an hour ago, and was staring at it for a long time, trying to fit it into the puzzle before A) realizing that this was Real Life and not part of the show and B) WTF is a NJ plate doing in front of me in California.  In any case, I can confirm that NJ plates do not appear to have this number-letter repeating format.

So let’s talk Agnes.

Demonstrated knowledge of the situation in ways others haven’t (”There’s the star of the show” “kids, you can’t control ‘em”)

Shows up when needed most (explained as being Wanda’s doing, but is it)

When Wanda was having her babies, though, who was trustworthy enough to be summoned?  Was it Agnes?

Wanted to babysit REAL BAD

Was in the opening credits framed possessively with the twins

Doesn’t appear to have an IRL identity according to Jimmy’s crime board

Keeps talking about her husband but we’ve never seen him.  Highly unlikely that he’s real

Was the one to find Sparky “dead” - internet thinks she was lying to Wanda about how or possibly if he was dead (I’m trying not to read the theories, so idk exactly what the angle is there)

In an episode where everyone is wearing their original comic outfits, Agnes is dressed as (and laughs like!) a witch

She name-drops Wanda as the one controlling everyone; Norm (or the guy playing Norm) only said “she” and “her” -- meaning Agnes?

Naughty

So we’re 99% sure Agnes is Agatha Harkness, right?  I never read no comics, so I’m taking the internet’s word for it, but from what I can tell, I think we must be right.  If that’s the case, then I’m thinking it’s not impossible for her to be pulling some strings around here (giving Wanda a justification for her “that wasn’t me” doorbell ring, for example, and pulling a double red herring on the fact that she shows up whenever the narrative Wanda her nefarious scheme calls for it).

To devil’s advocate myself, though, we also have Monica’s word that it was Wanda in her mind, lessening the impact of Agnes falsely confirming what Norm only implied.  Also she’d have to be acting for Vision’s sake (and ours) and, if so, then what did Vision’s brain-touch really do, and how did she know he’d find her there, and what did she intend as the result of that interaction etc etc.

If Wanda’s (or Wanda + Third Party Confirmed (Agnes??)’s) powers aren’t enough to sustain the simulation of life on the edges of town, how much worse is it going to be now that there is even more area to try to control???

I don’t know if this is strictly an intended read, but the idea of Halloween as a fun, scares-for-entertainment’s sake type holiday, the rounding off the edges of concepts like “skeletons and ghosts are what people are after they die, let’s decorate the town with them and have a good time” kind of is a haunting parallel to the nature of Wanda (et al) covering up the horrible truth of the situation with this happy-go-lucky sitcom glamour.

How much does one hate seeing Vision giving his life for the greater good (the greater good) for the second time?  In other news, I think I’m seeing some specifically Mind Stone type energy-colors coming off of him, and very little Wanda type energy-colors.  Third Party Confirmed.

Also, I was thinking from last week that perhaps Hayward’s Villainous Ends included capturing the reanimated Vision to be one of those Sentient Weapons his organization is all about, but I Do Not Think his reaction to seeing that sought-after prize disintegrate in front of his eyes really matches up with that theory.  Again, will be patiently waiting for Jimmy to check his email to see what CATARACT is all about!

Rule of Threes - The Payoff:

Also, anyone ID the movie playing in the background?

Ok, final thought.  I watched this about four times today, and on the big-ass TV at my parents’ house finally paused and got up close to see what that white shape is in the reflection.  Thought it might be a skull, but, it’s worse.

These caps do not contain enough data to verify my claim, but I PROMISE YOU it’s a TV

A square old thing with a round screen and antenna on top. 

I SWEAR to you, when I looked into the TV, into Wanda’s eyes, only to see the reflection of a TV, of her looking at me looking at her I had a visceral fear reaction.  Like.  LEGIT nauseous skin crawl.

(All the other episodes have ended with our POV as the fourth wall, from the general (or exact!!!) position their household TV is known to be.)

This is my favorite show Of All Time.

[writerwrites]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Protégé to Bruce Banner, Rosemarie finds herself working closely with and befriending the Avengers. Friendship, lust, heartbreak, and so much more find her along this heartbreaking journey into new adulthood. Rosemarie discovers her self-worth and that home is where the heart is… she’ll just have to figure out what her heart is saying first.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Smut 18+, language, angst, fluff, language, ye ole slow burn, and eventually death, pregnancy, love triangle… or love adjacent to a triangle? It’s complicated.

playlist . masterlist

A/N: This WIP is intentionally made to ruin all of our lives with feels. You were warned. It’s just my writing style, but I use a name for the reader, in this case Rosemarie, so adjust your imaginations as you read, fam. Also, I do what I want, so don’t come at me for MCU canon timelines. The most notable YOLO in this series is that Bucky/Winter Soldier is an Avenger pre-Blip, Banner isn’t in space, and though there’s tension between the Tony and Cap ‘sides’ of the Sokovia Accords they’re all trying to work together. Avenging is not a main point to this story, but that’s the clarification I will give you. I hope you enjoy my first posted fic, leave a comment, review, message, etc.

Introduction: October 2016

--- BANNER SCIENCE TECHNOLOGIES (BST); MIDTOWN MANHATTAN, NY ---

“Anything? Anything at all? Bueller?” Rosemarie looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to spot some sort of subtle difference in her appearance. Though she had been searching for a job in her field for months, the ‘spooky’ elevator music chirping through the bathroom was an indication that she was just shy of that November 1st tuition payment start up. Her May graduation felt like a distant memory and all the years of hard work and applications to various schools, and even scholarships for being gifted and a minority hardly made a dent in the mountain of debt that came with attaining a doctoral degree. So, the prodigy looked, hoping for even a crinkle in the corner of your twenty-two year old eyes or a crease in her forehead. A little guilty knot formed in her stomach, as she thought no one ever wanted to ‘grow up’ faster than she did.

Rosemarie had been an intern for Stark Industries during her undergrad and worked a part-time research position for Stark while she looked for the right fit. It had been the CEO and his wife, Pepper, who had tipped you off about Dr. Banner’s small new company, Banner Science Technologies. No amount of ass kissing or overtime seemed to get the young woman a chat with Tony Stark, who was providing significant financial support to his friend and her boss’ endeavor, and she had all but given up until three weeks ago. That fateful email felt more like an unexpected termination. The fear of going ‘upstairs’ for that meeting amused Tony, he’d told her so much when he cackled that he had watched her self-talking on the journey up.

Now at BST, Rosemarie was leading a medical research team that rivaled Elon Musk and every major university in neuroscience. But there she was, leaning into the mirror on Day One, wishing she felt like she knew what she was doing, like she didn’t look like a dork in your square black rimmed glasses, or that she would look older than she was because she wanted to be taken seriously. The young doctor hadn’t realized that her accomplishments had already done that for her because almost no one ever blew through a public education, let alone Yale, like she had. The emotions tied to repeated social rejection; however, began to bubble in her chest like poison before her badge glimmered on her hip and snapped her out of the trance.

Oddly, in that interview for BST, Banner didn’t ask the doctor about her research. He asked Rosemarie about her mental health, how she balanced work and life, and what her definition of world peace was. It had somehow never occurred to her that both Banner and Stark shared the unnatural gift of intellect since they were young too and that, at least to some degree, could relate to her experiences. There was a steady and natural intimidation that came with working for an Avenger like Bruce, but seeing the rest of them in passing at the lab in Stark Industry’s famous tower made the young woman slowly catch glimpses of their humanity, taking off the rose colored glasses placed on every stranger’s face by the media’s interpretation of them. Nevertheless, Rosemarie was a nobody, a lab rat, scientist, doctor, dork, and perpetually invisible to everyone at work. In fact, she had been her whole life, special but not special enough to warrant connecting with on a personal level. She told herself you’ll learn to appreciate the anonymity, but after being an academic shining star in college and spending a half a year looking for a job in the field, any semblance of confidence left in her small frame had certainly faltered.

Before Rosemarie could hit the ‘wallow in self pity’ button on her emotional circuit board, the bathroom door opened. Quickly straightening up and without looking at who came, she turned on the water to wash her hands and only upon reaching for the air dryer did she realize that the woman was the curvy redhead Avenger known for her skills in espionage, linguistics, weaponry, and combat; Black Widow. Rosemarie blinked, making a mental note to not call her that if she managed to speak at all. She looked at the young doctor curiously, her eyebrows slowly drawing together in confusion. “Are you really going to the party dressed up as Bruce? We try not to do ‘the Avengers’ at this thing every year.”

Whether it was from Agent Romanoff’s use of air quotes or the fact that she was speaking to a person that saw themselves as invisible, Rosemarie’s mouth bobbed open and closed, head tilting to the side like a confused puppy. “Party? Bruce?” Please, Rosemarie, save yourself from chronic rambling, she mentally monologued, only showing she was in her head through the pursing of her lips and a fleeting nod of acknowledgement; both of which hadn’t gone unnoticed by the spy.

“Bruce really forgot to invite his top dog? Typical. I swear I told him three times this week alone.” She walked around toward Rosemarie with speed and grace. Her gaze was analytical of the body in front of her, despite the majority of it being tucked underneath a pristine new lab coat, as she kept talking, “The annual Halloween costume party is tonight and you and the other two department leads…” she waved her hand when she realized she’d forgotten their names. “Anyways, it’s a party Tony throws every year and it’s always been Stark Industries, Rand Corp., and some other companies in Stark’s pocket that get all the big faces together for a few drinks, laughs, and a good time. Banner Sci. Tech. has Tony at the table and Bruce in bright lights. You’ve got to be there,” Just as a protest was about to pass the girl’s lips a finger went to them, “No excuses, Rosemarie. Consider it a part of the ‘other duties as assigned’ clause on your employment agreement.” She wiggled her fingers dramatically, but there the lab rat stood, utterly dumbfounded. A new question was on her mind: What could she possibly add to a conversation with a bunch of brilliant wealthy CEOs and superheroes? “Soooo, naturally, the people that are the glue of this place should come and rub shoulders. You know, show ‘em why you’re so fantastic. Get to know the people your tech will likely be used by, little like that.”

“But, I’m… me?” The words were quiet, disjointed, and felt like you had more confidence giving your first valedictorian speech to a crowd of Seniors that had bullied you for walking with them at the age of twelve.

“Exactly, Dr. Smarypants. You’re you, which is why we’re going to mine and getting you some costume that doesn’t make you the laughing stock of introductions. How old are you, anyway?” Natasha opened the bathroom door and the doctor walked out feeling like she was about to get the Princess Diaries treatment with some sort of Nightmare on Elm Street plot twist.

“I turned twenty-two last February.” The answer was offered up in the tone of an apology but she disregarded the awkward timbre and stuck to the facts, making Rosemarie’s shoulders relax just a little.

“Well thank God for that,” The Avenger’s laugh echoed through the hall. “I was half worried you wouldn’t be able to drink and then you’d be both bored and silent at the party.”

With a finger up she skipped over to the main lab’s window where Bruce was squinting at four screens and banging on a tablet. When he finally looked over at the redhead, everyone in the vicinity noticed his expression quickly melting, something Rosemarie had certainly never seen. Natasha pointed to her watch, to Rosemarie, and gestured little walking legs with her fingers. Dr. Banner acknowledged her with what looked like a mouthed ‘I love you’ but before Rosemarie could even smile at the site he offered her an apologetic nod, unnerving her once more. In the blink of an eye, Natasha was dragging her out of the office, arm in arm, and out of midtown Manhattan.

--- BRUCE AND NATASHA’S LIMESTONE; UPPER EAST SIDE, MANHATTAN, NY ---

Despite asking a few times over what she had in store, Nat, as she asked to be called, gave her little to go on. Sitting on a bench at the foot of her boss’ California King bed, she watched Natasha rummaging through the walk-in closet. “Clint’s daughter dragged me to Disney a few months back. She insisted we go ‘Disneybounding’ and I have more wigs than I’ll ever need.” She was processing her choices and more than once Rosemarie picked up something that flew out of the walk-in closet at her head. A shimmering ruby red dress landed to the left and her mouth fell open in horror at the plunging neckline and thigh extra-high slit. Nat came out with a few things on her arm and laughed at the look of pure exasperation, “Don’t worry, babe, that’s mine… and this,” She plopped the garments into her victim’s arms, “Is your get up. There’s a bathroom down the hall, the only door on the left. I’ll be over in a bit to help with your makeup.”

Rosemarie wasn’t sure if she should take offense to the fact that it wasn’t a question, but remained too intimidated to say anything. Once in the bathroom with her back to the mirror she took off her white lab coat and untucked the seafoam green tie-neck satin blouse and skinny black slacks. As she folded the discarded clothes, she sighed at how proud of the outfit she’d been just this morning and how it now felt like a bland choice by the time she saw half of the spy’s closet. Like the pang of emotions set off a bomb, Rosemarie was self-talking about how nice Nat was being to her and to see this as a professional opportunity rather than a terrifying obligation. The mental chatter was enough to get her into the outfit which, surprisingly, required no sucking in, tucking, or wiggling to get on. It wasn’t until she turned to the mirror that Rosemarie registered what ‘Disney bounding’ was, immediately placing the character the ensemble was meant to resemble.

The high-waisted yellow shorts with their two panels of brassy buttons hugged Rosemarie's hips and made her see the curves of a defined hourglass frame for the first time in clothing other than yoga pants. The off the shoulder royal blue crop top had enough draping and a built-in bra to make her comfortable about wearing this around other professionals, just the tiniest hint of the tan skin of her upper stomach when she raised her hands or posed, neither of which she planned to do tonight. The red bow against black hair was the perfect final touch to make it obvious the outfit was a modern Snow White. Before Rosemarie could overanalyze going to a work event in the getup, there was a rhythmic knock on the door and, even though she thought she’d locked it, Nat was walking in, items in hand. At first she whistled, taking Rosemarie’s hand in hers and spinning her around. Nat smiled when she saw the heat rise up the bashful doctor’s neck and color flooded her cheeks. “I have one last thing.”

Until Nat pulled black heels from behind her back Rosemarie hadn’t even noticed Natasha had changed, but when she did her mouth went dry. “You look…” With a knowing smirk, she put her hands on Rosemarie’s hips and spun her back toward the mirror, her chest pressed to the doctor’s back as she studied her features, the pouted lips and high cheekbones, the long eyelashes underneath the ridiculously hipster glasses. Rosemarie felt naked in front of her, no one having ever really looked at her that way before and her body naturally reacted with a shiver that caused her hips to roll back into her host. As Rosemarie was about to apologize, Nat simply smiled and shook her head no, getting to work on their makeup with both expertise and speed.

Rosemarie thought she had gotten away with the embarrassing and obvious moment of unrequited attraction when the Avenger popped the lipstick into a wristlet purse that looked like an apple. Then she leaned in like a panther pouncing on her prey and, somehow, the doctor didn’t cower back. Nat was intrigued by that, a little curve found its way to the corner of her crimson lips, two shades darker and glossed compared to Rosemarie’s, “Let’s have a good time tonight, Snow. Something tells me it’s going to get very interesting.” She bit her lip, noticing that Rosemarie was holding your breath and assumed that it was a combination of her looking great and being the girlfriend of the girl’s boss, she wasn’t wrong. Nat still dipped down between her legs and slipped the heels onto the young woman’s feet, letting her fingertips tickle her ankle before they were holding hands and heading to the party.

--- STARK INDUSTRIES: THE TOWER; MIDTOWN MANHATTAN, NY ---

The closer they got to Tony Stark’s ‘Tower’ the more Rosemarie wanted the stroke of midnight to hit so she could get out of dodge. Nat worried, even if she hid it well. She’d playfully asked her a few casual questions about her time at Yale, what the parties were like, and what the doctor liked to do for fun. She quickly and accurately surmised that the twenty two year old had been in love once and upon some bad sex and the dropping of the ‘L’ word, she’d been dropped like a fly. The pity never reached Natasha’s face, but it was there. It reminded her of more than one person that would be at the Tower tonight, and as she cooed compliments to the anxious new girl in town, she hoped that offering the invitation was the right thing. Rosemarie nodded and blushed, hoping accepting was the right choice too, though she didn’t hide it well at all.

As Natasha entertained that young woman with pleasant little stories about how harmless everyone was, she couldn’t help but think that, with the tension of the Sokovia Accords, you might not be up for the mental olympics the attendees would undoubtedly be going through. As the elevator doors closed behind them, Rosemarie didn’t notice how worried Nat was and instead tried to calm herself down in the bustling room. Her matte dusty rose lips pressed into a closed mouth smile as she tried to remember little details about the people in front of her, people that she had only heard about on television or seen through a lab window. “Here we go,” Nat spoke with surprising pep and with a sigh, Rosemarie followed. She was glad Natasha let her walk down the stairs behind her as the crowd funneled in both in front and behind them. You can do this. You’re smart, a good person, you can do this. This is totally normal. Just smile and nod, fake it to the bar, fake it ‘til you make it. The doctor’s gaze brushed across the room after Natasha moved away toward Bruce. Immediately Rosemarie froze, a few heads that had turned to greet Nat now turned toward her. Well, shit.

CHAPTER 1

Taglist: @caplanbuckybarnes​

[7-wonders]

Pour One Out

Summary: After lashing out at Michael, you find yourself at the receiving end of his rage. You stand up for yourself and decide to, in the words of Tom Haverford and Donna Meagle, “treat yo’self” to a night out with friends. Alcohol and anger make for great choices, right?

Word Count: 3973

A/N & Warnings: Warnings first: Alcohol, physical violence, people being mean to each other, cussing, partying. Hi there! Once again, I’m terrible at posting this story. It’s one of my favorite long-form pieces that I’ve ever written, but I’m still incapable of sticking to a schedule. Anyways, this is part 5 of my ‘Mad Love’ series, which I’ll have linked below. Feedback is always appreciated; leave me a like, reblog, comment, or ask letting me know what you think. My inbox is always open if you want to chat :)

Read Mad Love (part one) HERE | Read Totally F***ed (part two) HERE | Read The Isle of Flightless Birds (part three) HERE | Read A Hard Day’s Night (part four) HERE

The cursor on the screen in front of you blinks constantly, silently asking you when you’re going to start typing. This essay isn’t going to write itself, but you can’t seem to muster up enough willpower to actually start putting words onto the paper. In all honesty, it’s hard to work on homework lately. Being the Antichrist’s unwilling wife and knowing of his plans for the apocalypse really makes essays on Plato’s Allegory of the Cave seem trivial, if they weren’t already trivial before this ordeal started. So you stare at the screen, zoning out while occasionally nodding your head so that it seems like you’re invested in the conversation your friends are having.

You jump when a hand touches your shoulder, staring wide-eyed at the classmate sitting next to you. She’s nice and you’ve worked with her on a few projects for this particular class, but you don’t really talk to her when it doesn’t relate to school. She smiles comfortingly at you while the rest of the group stares at you, all with different levels of bewilderment on their faces.

“What?” You ask, trying to make it seem like you weren’t on a completely different wavelength.

“We’re all getting ready to leave and I asked if you were okay. You’ve been really off recently, no offense.” The same classmate, Kate, repeats.

“I’m fine, I’ve just had a lot on my mind recently.”

“I can tell.” She jokes, gesturing to your blank screen. “I’ll send you the notes and what I’m basing my essay off of, if you want?”

“That’d be great, thank you so much.” You reply gratefully.

You hurriedly pack all of your items in your bag, not wanting to hold the group up anymore than you already have. Luckily the parking lot of the cafe you all met up at is fairly small, which means your cars are all parked next to each other. Still, the trauma from what happened that fateful night in the library parking lot has you locking the doors, jamming your seatbelt into place and driving out of the parking lot almost before everybody else has even gotten their cars started.

It’s probably not the best idea to get Chinese takeout when you’re already on a budget and you definitely have leftovers at home, but you figure you can splurge a little bit tonight. The bag that you’re carrying has you tempted to just sit in your car outside of your apartment and eat it all, but that’d be a little difficult since you have no utensils with you. So you make the trek to your apartment, which seems ever-longer with the food basically calling your name.

Unlocking your door and turning on the lights, the first thing that you see is that your cat is once again on the table, a habit that you’ve been trying to curtail for a few days now. The second thing you see, Michael Langdon petting said cat, has all thought of complaining fleeing your head.

“Jesus Christ!” You gasp, throwing your hands up in fright at the surprise intrusion. By some miracle, your food doesn’t go flying everywhere, so you place your things on the table before you do ‘accidentally’ throw them at Michael.

“Kind of the opposite, actually.” Michael smirks, placing his hands behind his back and walking towards you in the way that you hate so much.

“Michael, what the fuck are you doing here?” You huff, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “It’s Thursday, you’re literally going to see me tomorrow.”

You had actually kind of been expecting for him to show up somewhere in your life. After eating a single bite of toast before rushing out the door after your early weekend last Saturday, you knew he had been pissed. That much had been made clear when he called you Monday, as well as yesterday. A little bit of warning would have been nice, though.

“Well, seeing as how I already used my allotted two calls for the week,” his nose scrunches in distaste at the rule you had set, “I decided that I would drop in and see how my beautiful wife is doing. You never told me you had a cat.” He mentions when the little brat starts rubbing her head against Michael’s hand, begging for attention.

“It never came up in conversation.” You mutter, pushing past him so that you can take back the control of your apartment. “You dropped in, saw I’m fine, got to pet my cat; can you go now?”

Michael pouts teasingly before shrugging.

“Are you really just going to kick me out like that? You’re not a very good hostess, (Y/N).” You squeeze your eyes shut and clench your jaw, patience wearing thin with each second that Michael remains in your home.

Maybe if you had had some forewarning, been given some time to prepare for having to be around him, you wouldn’t be getting so angry. But now, not only has he invaded your home, he refuses to leave as well. Even worse is that stupid fucking smirk that is ever-present on his face. God, if you knew there wouldn’t be any consequences, you’d love to knock that look right off of his face (and maybe a few teeth out, too, although you’re sure that his Antichrist powers would grow them back right away).

“Look. I’m tired, hungry, I have a mountain of homework to do and I still have to finish my laundry. All I want to do is eat my dinner, maybe watch some Netflix while I work on homework, and then go to bed. Please, Michael, just go home.” You plead with him.

“I can help you, you know. Or you could just quit school and mo-”

“What happened to letting me have my alone time?” You question, reminding him of the contract you just went over less than a week ago. The smile fades off of his face as his blue eyes turn to a steely color, and you watch as he clenches and unclenches his fists repeatedly.

“I don’t ask for much from you, (Y/N), just for you to cherish and obey me.” You glower at him when he comes closer, attempting to push him away, but he snatches your wrists easily in one of his large hands. “Do you know how many men-- how many women worship my father? How many of them would have thrown themselves at my feet for a chance to be my bride? But no, my father had to make you as my soulmate. You, a stubborn, whiny little bitch who can’t just shut up and be grateful for the position of power you’re currently in.”

You yank your hands out of his grasp, and before you can even process it he slaps you across the face. One of his large rings caught against your lip, and you bring a hand to your face to catch the blood that’s starting to pool on the floor. Poking your tongue out at your lip, you can feel how it’s already starting to swell from the force of Michael’s hit. The man in question holds his hands up by his head, eyes wide as he pants loudly. He repeatedly shakes his head, like he’s trying to convince both you and him that he didn’t mean to hit you.

“(Y/N)-” He’s silenced when you spit at him. It lands on his cheek, and you watch with eyes blazing as the mixture of saliva and blood trails down his face.

“Get the fuck out of my apartment.” You don’t look him in the eyes, instead choosing to focus on the blood you’re cupping in your hands. When he doesn’t move, you start to yell. “Leave! I swear to God, if you don’t leave, I’ll get my landlord up here and he’ll haul your ass out!”

The door never opens, but when you look up again he’s disappeared. You’re still beyond pissed, but the adrenaline is wearing off and the throbbing in your lip is starting to become more prominent. Stumbling off to the bathroom, you get a washcloth and hold it to your lip to stop the bleeding. Somehow the cut’s not deep, it just landed in an area that produces a lot of blood. You get cleaned up fairly quickly, and within twenty minutes you’re laying on the couch with an ice pack pressed to your lip. The cat sits on your lap, kneading your thighs with her little paws.

“Next time he shows up here, claw his eyes out, okay?” You request. She blinks her large eyes at you once before yawning and rubbing her nose. “Thanks.”

Your phone chimes with a text message that you almost ignore, thinking that it’s Michael. When the name on the text isn’t just the devil emoji that you use for him and is, instead, the name of your best friend, you unlock your phone.

“Hey girl! Thirsty Thursday tonight @ Stadium House, you in?”

Stadium House, the frat house closest to the campus’ football stadium (nobody ever said frat boys were good at naming things), offers what is arguably the best Thirsty Thursday you’ve ever experienced. Frat parties aren’t normally something you enjoy going to, choosing instead to do your social drinking at friends’ houses. Even though they’re not normally your scene, you still find yourself mulling over the idea. It’s been a while since you even drank, let alone went out with your friends and drank. Besides, after the hellish past few weeks, partying doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

“Sure, we riding together?” Within seconds, she’s responded.

“OMG YAY REALLY??? Yeah we’re getting a Lyft. Wanna come over to mine and get ready/pregame?”

“Be over in 10.” You reply.

Since you both live in the same building, all you had to do is get everything together and take the elevator to her floor. The cat, although not pleased that you’re standing, quickly settles down again in your spot as you go to put the ice pack back in the freezer. As you gather the ‘essentials’ for a night out, you realize that this is the first time you’ve been genuinely excited for something since the day you were kidnapped. Locking your door behind you, you head out with a purpose: to get fucked up. Classily fucked up, but still fucked up.

Stadium House is just like you remember it from the last party you attended, which would have been almost a year ago. It’s insanely loud, with enough bass to make your teeth shake. There’s an insane amount of people that you’re sure violates some sort of fire code, none of the furniture matches, and there’s enough booze to give the entire school alcohol poisoning.You’re already mildly buzzed, the alcohol that you pregamed making you feel a good kind of fuzzy. Making your way into the kitchen to grab a beer takes twice the time that it normally would since inebriated-you likes to hug everyone that you see.

“(Y/N)!” A voice shouts. You turn around to see Kate waving at you, beckoning you towards her. “Hey! Thought you didn’t come to these types of parties?”

“Normally I don’t, but tonight I decided to.”

“God, what happened to your lip? Did somebody punch you?” You almost forgot about the cut on your face, having covered it with enough makeup to hide the bruising and swelling.

“Oh, I tripped and busted my face against the stairs earlier today.” Kate grimaces, but obviously believes it.

“Well hopefully that means you won’t bust your face while you’re drunk. Anyways, you wanna play pong with me? I need a partner.” You shrug before nodding, letting her take your hand and lead you to the living room.

All of the couches are pushed up against the walls, allowing people to sit and catch their breaths. There’s a long table set up in the middle of the room, the classic red cups creating pyramids on each side.

“Katie, you found someone!” Kate giggles and blushes when a guy slings his arm around before kissing her cheek.

“(Y/N), this is my boyfriend, Brennan. Brennan, this is (Y/N).” You both wave at each other awkwardly. “Oh my God B, do you know who (Y/N) would be absolutely great with? Lucas!”

Brennan chuckles at the look on your face.

“Kate likes to play matchmaker when she’s drunk.” He explains. “Go play then, everyone’s waiting on you.”

Kate pouts before kissing Brennan and jogging around to the side of the table that you’ve already migrated towards. Picking up a Solo cup, you glance inside to see what the poison of choice is tonight. One sniff of the clear liquid tells you that it’s vodka, and definitely not the good kind. Kate fakes a gag when you hold the cup under her nose, making you giggle.

“Guess we’ll have to play extra good, then.”

Both teams suck, but you somehow manage to eke out the win. Even with the win, you still had to down an ungodly amount of vodka. Couple that with the two beers you’ve had since starting the game, and you’re definitely feeling the effects. Everything has you laughing, from the posters on the wall and your opponents’ jokes to the outfits of some of the women here and how they all line the walls, looking for their prey. You and Kate had almost collapsed against each other when the familiar chorus of ‘oh fuck, shit, BITCH’ coursed through the entirety of the frat house. Another side effect of being drunk is just how loud you are. You know that you’re nearly yelling whenever you open your mouth, but you’ll be damned if people don’t hear what you have to say.

After the game is over, you end up heading outside to get some fresh air. A good number of people have the same idea as you, standing together in small groups. Pushing past a couple making out, you lean against the wall and pull your phone out of your back pocket. There’s a few notifications from various social medias, mainly your friends tagging you in their stories. Unfortunately, there’s also a text from Michael that simply reads ‘I’m sorry.’ The sensible part of you that remains sober tells you to not do what you’re thinking of, but since that part of you is stupid, you click on Michael’s contact anyways. It only rings twice before he picks up the phone, which makes you roll your eyes.

“Hey, are you okay? I’m so sorry about what happened earlier, I shouldn’t have done that and I’ll never do anything like that again.” You hear the words that he’s saying, but they don’t actually register with you while you wait to finally speak.

“Y’know, you’re the--the biggest jerk I’ve ever met!” You huff, sitting down on top of the cool grass.

“I know, and I deserve th-”

“No no no, mister, you listen to ME! All my friends’ boyfriends are so fucking nice, and they care about their girlfriends, and they certainly didn’t kidnap them. One of my friends even told me there’s a guy she knows that’d be--that’d be perfect for me!” You pause to take a sip of the beer in your hand. “But I had to say no, all because I’m married to the fucking Ant-Anti-crust!”

Michael’s silent while you ramble on, waiting patiently for you to finish. You snicker at your oh-so-clever wordplay, repeating ‘Anti-crust’ quietly to yourself.

“(Y/N)...are you drunk?” You sigh, humming a tune that you’re not quite sure of while you look up at the sky.

“A little bit, yeah.”

“Stay where you are, I’m going to come and get you. And don’t hang up the phone!”

“You’re so lame, Michael.” You groan loudly.

“I know I am, so incredibly lame.” He agrees with you.

“Whatever, I gotta tell my friends I’m leaving, ‘else they’ll think I got kidnapped...again.” Stumbling to your feet, you squint your eyes to spot your friends. Sure enough, the three of them are all sitting on the couch under the large oak tree. What is it with frat guys leaving couches outside? Is that like a requirement for frats?

“Why is there a couch outside?” Michael asks incredulously, and you clap a hand over your mouth when you realize that you said that out loud.

“Oops.” Your friends all wave to you, and you fall sideways on top of their laps. “H-hey guys!”

“(Y/N), where the hell did you go?”

“Oh, I kicked ASS at pong. Did you know that I’m good at pong? ‘Cuz I didn’t know I was good at pong.” Your mumble, reaching a hand up to stroke your friend’s cheek. “Anyways, I gotta go. My husband is gonna pick me up.”

You can hear Michael gasp as your friends all laugh and giggle.

“Fuck off, you don’t have a husband!” You’re about to argue before you remember that you totally should not have said that.

“You’re right, I don’t have a husband.” You agree, sobering up long enough to panic before realizing that they’re just going to think you’re joking. “Anyways, my...friend Michael is gonna pick me up.”

“(Y/N)’s gonna get DICK tonight!” She yells, making them all cheer loudly.

Before you can argue, a sleek black sports car pulls up. Michael doesn’t even have to unroll the windows for you to know that it’s him; nobody else would be driving around in a college neighborhood with a car like that. Your friends help push you up, and you grab all of your stuff from where you threw it on the ground. Your goodbyes are all long and exaggerated, all of them hugging you and kissing your cheeks before letting you leave.

You throw open the car door dramatically, sliding not-so-gracefully inside. Michael stares at you, and if you were more sober you’d try and attempt to figure out what he’s thinking. Instead you give him a wide smile, waving excitedly while you try to buckle up.

“Here, let me help you.” He says finally, easily buckling you up.

“Thank youuuuuu!” You sing out, leaning back against the cool leather.

“I, uh, brought you a water.” He hands you a bottle of water, making you gasp excitedly.

“How did you know I was thirsty! You’re the best, Mikey!” You open the bottle easily and down half the bottle in one go.

“Don’t call me that.” He’s obviously not too impressed with having to pick you up, but whatever.

“But-but I like calling you Mikey! It’s my nickname for you! Isn’t that what married couples do? They have nicknames for each other!” You argue while Michael maneuvers through the deserted streets.

He decides that keeping silent is the best course of action, which makes you pout. There’s no music on, and the only sound you can hear is the engine purring. His eyes are focused on the road ahead, so you decide to creep your hand up to touch his hair, which is something you’ve always wanted to do. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, and you’re pretty sure he thinks you’re going to hit him. He flinches when your hand lands in his hair, sending you into another round of giggles while you feel his golden curls.

“So soft.” You mutter to yourself, running your hand through his hair. “Mikey, I’m gonna need you to drop your haircare routine.”

“Tomorrow.”

“We’re at my apartment! How do you know where I live?”

“I was here four hours ago.” You hum, nodding.

“Riiiiiight.” You basically fling yourself out of the car, bouncing on your heels while you wait for Michael to catch up to you.

He politely slides his arm around yours, keeping you steady while you both make your way to your apartment. Standing still in the elevator makes you realize just how tired you are and you yawn repeatedly and rub your eyes, undoubtedly smudging your eye makeup.

“Drink the rest of your water, please.” Michael requests, gesturing to the near-empty bottle you’re still holding.

You do as he says, letting him guide you to your apartment door. He opens it without using a key, and you look at him with wide eyes.

“Oh no, did I leave the door unlocked?”

“No (Y/N), I unlocked it with my magic.”

“That’s right, I forgot about that! That’s how you left so quickly after you slapped the shit outta me.” Michael winces at your words, but you ignore him and walk into the apartment. “Hi, kitty kitty!” You greet the cat, who doesn’t even bother to wake up.

“Go get some pajamas on, I want to make sure you make it to bed alright before I leave.” You glare at him, but do as he says. When the cat hears his voice, she eagerly jumps up and hops off of the couch, padding towards him and meowing. You stop at the sight, mouth hanging open while he crouches down to pet the cat.

“What the fuck?” You whisper, and Michael has to stifle a laugh when tears start to fill your eyes. “You little traitor.”

Michael remains on the floor while you get changed, giving his attention to the small cat. When it’s been a couple of minutes with no sign of you, he begins to get a little concerned. What trouble can a drunk person get up to when they’re just getting changed. Michael stands up, cautiously making his way to your bedroom. If you are still changing he really doesn’t want to walk in on you, knowing that there will be absolute hell to pay. His concerns are instantly wiped away when he sees you laying in your bed, eyes already closed.

“(Y/N).” Michael whispers, shaking your shoulder. You groan and try to push him away. “(Y/N), you still have makeup on.”

He’s not sure you string together a full sentence, but he does make out the words ‘makeup wipes’ and ‘bathroom,’ which is all that he needs. Thankfully you left the package of makeup wipes on the counter before you left for the evening. Pulling one out of the package, he walks back into your room and crouches next to you. Your nose crinkles at the feeling of the cool cloth against your skin, and your eyes flutter open before closing so he can take your eye makeup off. When he reaches your bottom lip and chin, he frowns.

“I am so sorry.” He apologizes before he starts cleaning your lipstick off. You both know that he’s not just apologizing for the hiss of pain that escapes your mouth.

“You’re so mean, you know that?” You mumble, licking your chapped lips while Michael examines the damage.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know why I did that. I’ve never hit anyone before.” He’s telling the truth; he’s murdered people and animals before, obliterated people’s souls, but he’s never slapped anyone. If there’s one useful thing his grandma taught him while growing up, it’s that you never hit a woman.

“You did it because you’re mean.”

“I promise you, (Y/N), that I’ll never lay a hand on you like that again.” You look at him from under your lashes, causing his heart to clench painfully.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Your eyes close again, and Michael gets up to throw the makeup wipe away.

When he comes back into your room, you’re already asleep. Michael smiles at the small snores that escape you and how absolutely comfy you look, slipping out to grab you some water and pain meds for the morning. Placing it on your bedside table, he spares one last glance at you before going to leave, petting the cat once more and disappearing again.

Tag List: @sammythankyou @let-me-try-mom @ultragibbycentralworld@sebastianshoe @nana15774 @queencocoakimmie @lichellaw @grim-adventures58 @dandycandy75 @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @alexcornerblog@everything-is-awesomesauce @ccodyfern @jimmlangdon @dolceandchalamet @omgsuperstarg @queenie435 @dextergirl12345 @americanhorrorstudies@sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @coloursunlimited @punkysouls @kahhlo@storminmytwistedmind @1-800-bitchcraft @langdonsdemon @langdonslove @carousallie @cuddletothecake

[yeaimfishboi]

After the Midnight Hour |  Chapter I: It’s Been a While

Pairing: JaehyunxReader

Word Count: 3.4k

Genre: Mafia!AU, angst, a wee bit of floof, and some heated situations?

Warnings: Blood, gore, swearing, character death, etc. Nothing too bad in this chapter

A/N: This is the Jaehyun series for the NCT Mafia Universe! I’ve been working on this piece for about three months now (technically more but shhhhhh) so I really hope you enjoy! (Masterlist in comments)

Summary: Having always taken care of her sister, Y/N finds herself in a predicament when it comes to the cost of medical treatment. Though when a certain loan shark is reached through her best friend, she receives much more than she bargained for. 

”Nothing Good Ever Happens After Midnight.” -Bo Schembechler

“Y/N, how’s that job of yours going?” your sister asked.

“It’s going okay Jiyeon. It’s hard work, and I’m not the biggest fan of my coworkers but I’m making enough money for us,” you responded softly smiling at her.

You slowly examined your surroundings, the smell of false flowers and antiseptics quipped your nostrils. You heard the hasty and abrupt monotone beeps of the cardiac monitor attached to Jiyeon’s chest. The normal coarse bland blue blanket other patients used was replaced by a soft fuzzy with green, purple, and blue polka dots that you gave to your sister months ago.

Jiyeon was diagnosed with stage two Osteosarcoma when she was about 13. She fought it off and was in remission at the age of 17. It was an amazing feat since the doctors didn’t expect her to live through it let alone beat it, but, much to your dismay, it came back when she was 19. When you were 18 (about a month or two before your high school graduation), Jiyeon was nearly 20, your parents passed away in a car accident. You and your parents were driving to go shopping for food when the car slipped on gravel and flipped over multiple times. Your parents died instantaneously, yet you were very lucky since you sat in the backseat you were pretty encased in the car. You only had a few broken bones, you suffered a crushed lung, and some bruised organs. You made a fairly fast recovery, but all of that seemed to fade away when the doctors found a malignant brain tumor in Jiyeon about 3 years ago, at that point everything seemed so bleak. Jiyeon had undergone at least 4 major surgeries since then but every single surgery somehow only removed parts of the tumor at a time. She’s been in hospice since her last surgery, confined to a room. Not able to leave whatsoever, and it made you feel like a horrible sister for not being able to stay by her side all the time since you had to work a lot. You were only able to visit her a few hours a day. Usually, you guys played video games or ranted about annoying people. Sometimes she gave you makeovers since she loved makeup and you never wore it. You treasured those few hours since it was all you got and might possibly all you could ever get.

“Ms, Y/S/N?” your thoughts were interrupted by Doctor Kim entering the room. “May I speak with you?” You stood up and started following the doctor out.

“I love you Jiyeon, I’ll be right back,” you slowly shut the door behind you.

“I regret to inform you Ms.-”

“Call me Y/N please,” you interrupted.

“Ms. Y/N, I regret to inform you that the last surgery went without success. We can’t seem to find a way to remove this tumor. We are going to try one more surgery, and follow it up with rigorous radiation therapy and chemotherapy, but it’s going to cost a lot,” the doctor tried to subtly point out the obvious, which was that you were barely scraping by for yourself with the cost for your sister’s treatments on top of that. You knew at this point you had one last option, you just never thought it would come to that, but you had to do it.

“It’s fine, Doctor Kim. Do whatever you need to save her. I’m just going to go tell her,” you sighed as tears pricked your eyes. You slowly walked into the room towards your sister’s bed, when she interrupted your sullenness.

“It didn’t work, did it?” she asked.

“No, I’m so sorry Ji. They’re going to try another surgery and then combat that with chemo and radiation.”

“It’ll be okay, sweetheart. I’m going to be okay. Just make sure that you stay alive as well, okay?” she softly smiled while she squeezed your hand. She knew your habits just as well as you did. You always put her first, and sometimes (the majority of the time) that meant you went without food or a real roof over your head.

“I’ve got to head to work Jiyeon, I need to be a little early since I just started working there and I’d like to keep it. I love you and I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I’ll have a surprise for you,” you said waving goodbye.

“Goodbye, I love you Y/N,” she smiled.

As you exited the hospital you pulled out your phone and made a much-needed call. With every tap on your phone screen, your heart pounded louder and louder, your anxiety grew more and more. You put the phone to your ear and listened to the rings as they shook the inside of your head.

“Heyo,” the other line responded.

“Ten, it's me, remember how you said if I ever needed help with what’s going on you knew someone who could help me? Well, I’m taking you up on that offer,” Ten was your childhood best friend, but as you two grew older you drifted apart. As of high school, all your time was spent caring for your sister, and Ten had found a new group of friends that hung out a little too dangerously for you. Even though you two had stopped talking you still both cared deeply for each other.

On the day of your graduation, Ten was there with a bouquet of flowers and a big hug. You still have that photo of the two of you by your bed. He was the only one to come to it as your sister was in the hospital and your parents had just recently passed away. He even dragged some of his friends to come with him but they didn’t get that much of a chance to talk to you since you had to leave quite soon after. You did talk with a few of them though, you attended school with some of them. You liked to call those boys your children since they were so young at the time and didn’t have much in the way of parent figures in their lives. At graduation, they helped you carry things and helped you up the stairs as you were still on crutches. You’ve always wondered how those kids are doing, you missed them a lot. You also enjoyed the company of Ten’s other friend, but you couldn’t remember his name. Johnny, was it?

That day, right before you left, Ten pulled you aside and said that if you ever needed help with everything going on, he knew a way to do it.

“Is everything okay Y/N?” your thoughts were cut short by the sound of concern coming from your former best friend’s mouth.

“I’ll be fine if this works,” you sighed.

“Do you want to talk about it? You know what, I’m taking you out. I haven’t seen you or really heard from you in 3 years. We’ll talk about everything then, okay? I’ll meet you at our favorite tomorrow at 3.”

“Alright,” you hung up the phone and headed to work.

~

As you opened the door to the diner, you were immediately greeted by one of the waitresses.

“Y/N!!! It's not your usual day, what are you doing here?” she asked smiling ecstatically at you.

“I’m here to meet someone!” you smiled back.

“Does Y/N finally have a date?” the cook chimed in from the back.

“No, Tomas. We discussed this, I don’t have time for a relationship,” you retorted. To which he just rolled his eyes at you.

“Do you want to sit in the usual place while you wait while you wait for them?” the waitress asked.

“Sure, Jen! He should be here any minute at this point!”

“It sure sounds like a date!” Tomas shouted again.

“Oh shove it, Tom!”

As if right on cue the door to the diner opened. Revealing a young man that you could barely recognize. He had bright celeste and lilac hair that he had styled up with a little gel making it look almost effortless. He wore a black leather jacket that had some wear and tear on it. You were pretty sure it was the one you bought him for his birthday four years ago. He was wearing tight skinny jeans which showed off his muscular thighs. He had tattoos going up his neck of all colors and patterns. The one that stood out to you was one of a red rose that stood vertically to the right of his throat.

“Ten?” you stood up to face the man.

“Y/N?” he scanned your whole body up and down.

“You look different,” you both blurted out at the same time.

“Wait, Ten?” Thomas shouted.

“Hey, Tomas. It’s been a while,” Ten chuckled quietly as he took off his jacket and set it down on the stool next to you.

“You were right Y/N, definitely not a date,” Tomas chuckled.

“Hey, Y/N, who is this Ten and how does Tomas know him?” Jen whispered to you.

“Oh my god, that didn’t even process in my mind,” you laughed at yourself. “Jen, this is Ten. Ten is my childhood best friend. Ten this is Jen, Jen started working here as a waitress about two years ago.”

“I see you’ve still continued to go here?” Ten smiled at you. One thing you definitely missed was Ten’s beautiful smile.

“It was one of the few things that connected me to home so I continued coming,” you smiled back at him.

“Y/N, I assume you want your usual? Same with you Ten?” Thomas asked loud enough for all three of you to hear.

“I haven’t had an Elvis Presley in 3 years, that sounds really good Tomas,” Ten yelled back. An Elvis Presley: peanut butter, bacon, and bananas. Three things that are absolutely delicious on their own, but put them together and it’s one of the most disgusting and deplorable things. Almost as despicable as mayo, peanut butter, and lettuce.

“Y/N, how were you ever friends with him? An Elvis Presley? And I thought your tastes were weird,” Jen shook her head.

“I don’t know, Jen. He’s a strange one,” you laughed.

“Yah, leave me and my food choices alone,” he nudged you.

“Hey, Y/N, how did Jiyeon’s last surgery go?” Thomas asked whilst he was hard at work.

“Oh, yes! We’ve been dying to know!” Jen chimed in.

“That’s actually what Ten’s here to talk about with me,” you smiled sullenly.

“Oh, so no eavesdropping? Got it,” Tomas chuckled.

“I mean you could, but if you did I’d have to cut off your tongue,” you casually stuck your tongue out at him.

“Avox style, I like it,” he smirked back at you to which you just shook your head.

“You guys are all really close,” Ten interrupted.

“We’re her only friends. We keep trying to get her to do more stuff with other people but all she has time for is work and Jiyeon, and the twice a week she comes here for lunch,” Jen smiled.

“But we love her, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.” Tomas joined.

“That’s really sweet. I wish I was here all these years to be here for you Y/N,” Ten sighed.

“It’s okay you’re here now, and that’s all she needs,” Tomas handed both of you your plates, “now go catch up. We’ll be quiet... kinda.”

“So how is everything going Y/N?” Ten turned to you.

“Jiyeon’s been keeping it together, her last surgery didn’t work, so our last resort is one last surgery with rigorous chemo and radiation ther-”

“I didn’t ask how Jiyeon is doing, I’m asking how you are doing,” he interrupted.

“I can answer that one,” Jen jumped in before you could even answer.

“Let’s not talk about me, how are you doing, Ten?” you asked.

Your dejected look could even deter the strongest of humans when it comes to talking about your life, and all of the people in the diner seemed to agree.

“I’ve got a girl,” he smiled.

“Oh my god, you do?” Tomas shouted out, “How is it that Ten got someone before you did Y/N? I never saw that coming!”

“Butt out of my love life Tomas-”

“I don’t have time for a relationship,” you and Tomas said simultaneously.

“I’m trying to help here, it’s been boring here since, you know..” Tomas trailed off.

“I’m not enough for you guys, I see how it is,” you laughed.

“You had a boyfriend?” Ten nearly choked on his sandwich.

“Yes, and it ended. Not on good terms. Anyways, what’s she like? Is she cool, is she as nerdy as you? Tell me everything!” you giggled at him

“She’s great. She’s a lot like you. At least a lot like you when we were kids. She keeps me in check.”

“Good because if nobody is there to watch you when you get angry, we’re all dead.”

You listened to Ten talk for a while. Hearing fun stories about his girlfriend and his friends. The dumb stuff they’ve done to all the small things he enjoyed, with Jen and Thomas joining in every once in a while with some stories about you, albeit it wasn’t very much though. All you two did was talk. Tomas did break into a dance at one point when his favorite song played on the radio. He tried pulling you off your seat to get you to dance too like you normally would, but you were far too embarrassed to dance with him. Ten also made a comment about how you didn’t have to hold back your eccentric ways around him.

Thomas was telling Ten a story about how you stood on the counters one time after Jen cleaned them because she was irritating you. As he was re-telling the story (and reliving it), you looked down at your phone. 6:15.

“Shit, I’m going to be late,” you burst out.

“Don’t worry I’ve already got the bag of food for her. Say hi to her for me. Okay, Y/N?” Thomas stopped you before you had a major freak out.

“If you want to ask her out just do it,” you teased him.

“Where would we go on a date, the hospital?” you just shrugged at his response.

“Hey, Ten. Do you want to come with?” you asked him whilst grabbing your coat.

“Sure, where are we going,” he asked totally oblivious to what you and Thomas were talking about.

“We’re visiting Jiyeon.”

~

“I’m sorry I’m late, but I’ve got something for you, Ji! You’re really going to like this one,” you smiled at her as you opened the door.

“What? Did Thomas put Nutella in the croissant instead of chocolate?” she laughed at you.

“Nope. Come on out kid,” you opened the door to reveal Ten and Jiyeon’s jaw dropped.

“Hi Jiyeon,” he smiled at her shyly.

“TEN? IS THAT YOU?” she screamed, “Look at you! You have tattoos, you’ve got blue and purple hair, and you’re wearing... leather? Are you sure you didn’t eat Ten?”

“No, it’s really me,” he chuckled at her silliness.

“My goodness Y/N, look at how grown up he is!” she squealed.

“I can see Ji. I’m not blind. I also got word from the doctor, they scheduled your next surgery for next month until then it’s the same normal treatment.”

“So no sugar?” she asked as her face fell.

“I brought you some, just for tonight. Courtesy of the great Chef Thomas,” you smiled sweetly at her and handed her the bag with the sweets Thomas made her.

“Even you guys are much closer now,” Ten pointed out your interactions.

“She’s all I’ve got in this world. Well besides Jen and Thomas but I only see them twice a week for an hour,” you frowned.

“I mean I am all you got after that ass Cha-”

“Ji, we’re not talking about that. I doubt Ten wants to listen to my only relationship and how it was a failure,” you cut her off before she could start talking about it.

“I would love to hear all about this boy, and how I should cut his dick off,” Ten chimed in.

“Please do, he deserves it. If I wasn’t confined to this damn bed I would’ve done it myself,” Jiyeon laughed while wiggling in place, acting as if she was restrained to her bed.

“Nobody is cutting off anyone’s dicks, alright?” you scolded the two of them.

The rest of the night consisted of the three of you joking around, playing Mario Kart, or stupid little card games. You guys even reminisced about all the dumb things you did as kids. You guys went on and on until you realized it was ten o’clock at night.

“I think it’s about time we leave. I have to get ready for work in a few hours,” you huffed raising yourself from your seat, Ten following suit. You two started heading to the door before your sister stopped you.

“Ten was this a one-time thing, or are you coming around more often? Y/N really needs someone besides me to help make sure she’s taking care of herself,” Jiyeon looked up at him.

“I promise you’ll be seeing a lot more of me. I’ve missed you guys way too much. I'll try and visit you once a week Jiyeon, then you can dish some more about this ex-boyfriend of hers,” he chuckled at her.

“Please, I’m pretty sure Y/N and my designated nurse are tired of me talking about it, but it’s all the drama I’ve got to talk about,” hearing her say that you immediately felt a pang in your chest. It hurt you to realize all your sister had gone through. She’s been stuck in this place for years, she hasn’t been able to leave because the doctors feared she’d have a seizure. She’s right when she says that the whole boyfriend situation was the only drama she had to talk about unless you wanted to count that one time the hospital didn’t give her pudding with her meal.

It hurts you to know that your sister is hurting not only physically but mentally as well. The last time she saw the sun glisten across the ocean from the beach was three years ago, but to be fair that was the last time you saw it as well. She hasn’t experienced things and normal human would in so long. It’s been three years since she has gotten to go clothes shopping, three years since she’s gotten to sit down and eat at the diner, it’s been three years since she’s stepped out of this white, overly sanitized box of confinement.

“Earth to Y/N!” your thoughts were interrupted by Ten waving his hand in front of your face.

“She does that every once in a while, she’s thinking about sad stuff,” Jiyeon giggled, “it’s definitely time to get her out of here.”

“I love you, Ji, I’ll try and stop by tomorrow,” you smiled at your older sister.

“I love you too, take care of yourself, too, please.” You nodded slightly at her.

You and Ten headed out of Jiyeon’s room and exited the hospital. The darkness combined with the contrast of street lights had thrown you for a loop. It felt like it was just ten minutes ago that you entered the hospital with the evening air.

“Went by fast for you too, huh?” Ten’s voice interrupted your reminiscing.

“Yeah, it did. I really missed moments like these. Where time seems to move far faster than we believe it does,” you smiled pull down your jacket by the pockets.

“We’ll be having a lot more of these moments, just like we used to. I promise I owe you at least that for being gone for so long,” Ten’s phone rang interrupting him from his apology. He quickly answered the phone and hung it back up, “that’s my cue. It was great seeing you again, but before I leave,” he handed you a small piece of paper, “this is the address he’ll meet you at, tomorrow at midnight. Be careful in that part of the neighborhood, okay?”

“Okay, Ten, I will.”

[tastycitrus]

The Powerpuff Girls (SRW) get their souls trapped in dolls and then stranded on Dr. Quandary’s Secret Island

Or, Meme Dwellers play The Secret Island of Dr. Quandary (except not really, I never wrote anything more for this). A joke story I wrote for some reason like two years ago that I’m now putting on here for some reason? It’s just a shitpost, lol.

Who thought it was a good idea to force the Steel Dragons to attend a carnival? The only culprit that came to mind was Excellen, but as crafty as she was there was no way she could’ve convinced the higher-ups to turn a carnival trip into a “mandatory team-building exercise” for the Steel Dragons and their associates.

Now, normally being forced to attend a carnival wasn’t the worst thing ever. But this carnival was really something else. I mean…really something else.

It was clear at first glance that the people behind this horrible place pretending to be a fun carnival didn’t care a single bit for their patrons’ safety. They also probably cared even less about making it actually fun.

The Ferris wheel was stopped for what had to be the fifteenth time that day, leaving the unfortunate victims who were dumb enough to get on trapped inside until the maintenance workers could get it moving again. The bathrooms smelled like rotten ass and probably had seventeen different STDs infesting the seats. The food was tasteless at best and looked like they had failed every bit of health inspection out there. All the games looked uninteresting and were probably rigged anyway.

To top it all off, even the atmosphere itself seemed to be as bleak and gloomy as this parody of a carnival. How the hell did this place manage to stay in business?

Katia, Melua, and Tenia thought long and hard about that question as they wandered around this travesty that called itself a carnival.

“Where’s Touya, Calvina, and the bland twins?” Tenia asked. “How’d we lose them in this place? I mean—I can understand losing Akimi and Akemi, but Touya and Calvina are pretty distinct, you know?”

Melua glanced around. “Yeah, usually Calvina’s the one who loses us, not the other way around.”

“You’d think we’d be able to keep track of the four people we were supposed to be exploring this ‘carnival’ with.” Katia scanned the premises for a familiar face. “Also, where the heck is anybody else? This place can’t be that big.”

She sighed, pulling out her phone. “You know what, why don’t we just try calling Calvina instead of wandering around like lost kids—”

Suddenly, a carny shouted very loudly in their direction, “Step right up! Have a try at this game! It’s free!”

Katia coughed after a moment. “Well, I’ll call—”

“Come on, don’t be shy! Try your hand at Troggle Shoot! You win a prize every time!”

“…I’ll call—”

“And yes, I am talking to you, trio of girls who look like lost children and whose color schemes are blatantly ripping off the Powerpuff Girls. Come here and play Troggle Shoot!”

The three girls sighed and turned to look at the carny shouting at them. He was a man dressed in purple robes and a funny hat manning a stand that no one seemed to be paying much attention to. His stand was evidently his game of Troggle Shoot, judging by his earlier shouting and also the flashing neon pink sign that said “Troggle Shoot” on top of the stand.

The three exchanged glances.

“What if it’s a kidnapping attempt?” Katia asked.

“Surprisingly, we haven’t run into that in this carnival yet,” Melua replied. “I don’t see any of the others, but if we shout loud enough someone should come running…”

“He doesn’t look so tough.” Tenia glanced at the carny. “He looks old and scrawny. I bet even we could beat him up. And he did go through all the trouble of calling us out.”

Katia sighed. “I swear, you two are going to land us in a shallow grave out on the side of a road one day.”

They reluctantly headed over to the carny’s stand, because he was a creepy old man being incredibly insistent on having three girls play his probably terrible game. He gave them what was likely supposed to be a disarming smile as they approached. Unfortunately, it just made him look creepier.

“Welcome, girls! I am the ingenious Dr. Quandary, the quintessential quizmaster! But you may call me Doctor Q.”

Oh great, alliteration. How wonderful—I absolutely adore the amazing appeal of alliteration. It’s immensely impressive to implement.

“You must be so happy,” Katia whispered to Melua. “You’ve finally found kin.”

“Shut up, Katia.”

Doctor Q continued on. “It’s your lucky day! I am offering you three a free game of Troggle Shoot! If you win, you can have these three dolls.”

He gestured to three dolls sitting atop a shelf in the stand. One was of a babyish blond child dressed in blue overalls. Another was a pink-skinned…person dressed in blinding yellow clothes. The last was aptly described as a horrific pumpkin-headed mutant wearing a popped-collar shirt and Hawaiian shorts.

“Excuse me, did I say dolls? I meant to say…Lifelike Action Figures!”

“…Just call them dolls, dude.” Tenia gave him her best impression of Calvina’s “what the fuck is this shit” face. “We’re not even boys—trying to play to that stereotype doesn’t make any sense!”

“Also these dolls are the ugliest things I’ve ever seen,” Katia added.

Melua grimaced. “Trying to offer them as prizes just makes me want to play this game even less!”

Doctor Q waved his hands. “Hey, hey, don’t be like that. Who knows? Maybe you’ll grow to like these precious faces!”

“I doubt that,” the three girls said in unison.

“…Look, it’s a free game and you get free stuff. Didn’t your parents teach you not to look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“Our parents are dead.”

“…Well, why not distract yourself from the grief and sadness with a little game of Troggle Shoot! It’s free! See that Troggle in the box marked TARGET?”

“We don’t want to—”

He pointed insistently at an LCD screen built into the side of the stand that showed an image that was probably supposed to be that Troggle thing he was talking about.

“Shoot as many of them as you can.” He set three BB guns on the table. “You each have 20 bullets. You can start firing whenever you’re ready.”

The three girls sighed. What a pushy guy. Seeing as he probably wasn’t going to leave them alone until they played his crappy game, they took the guns he offered them. Doctor Q’s smile widened as he stepped aside to activate the game. In the back of the stand, Troggles of all shapes and sizes began to roll across the shooting gallery’s three rows, but the girls were aiming for only one type.

One such Troggle came out first from the right on the middle row. Katia aimed and fired first. However, she aimed where it was instead of where it was going to be, so the Troggle rolled onward unharmed while her bullet looked stupid as it hit nothing.

“Oops. Well, at least Calvina isn’t here to complain about how much I suck at shooting.”

At least her mistake taught Tenia and Melua that they should aim slightly ahead of the Troggles to hit them. With that lesson learned, the girls began to shoot down Troggle after Troggle with relative ease. The game was surprisingly simple with no bullshit rigging involved, and they each had some experience in shooting because during their little venture in space Calvina decided to give them lessons since they had nothing else to do most of the time.

Once they used up their 20 bullets, their total Troggles shot came up to 53. Doctor Q shut off the machine and applauded them.

“Bravo, girls! Nice shooting! You’ve won your prizes.” He paused. “Though I must warn you; the prize you choose may have a dramatic effect on your future. These are not your ordinary Lifelike Action Figures. In fact, you might even swear they were alive sometimes!” He let out a deep laugh.

“Are you seriously still calling them Lifelike Action Figures?” asked Tenia. “And why does this sound incredibly foreboding?”

Doctor Q ignored her. “Let me tell you about them.”

He first gestured to the babyish one on the far left. “This is B. Ginner. It’s harmless, mostly.”

He moved on to the pink one on the far right. “This is O. D. Nary. A nice, middle of the road fellow.”

Finally, he motioned to the tan one with the pumpkin head. “And this is D. Fee Cult. It can be a real pain in the posterior. Which one will you take?”

“What’s with the punny names?” Katia asked. “And also the foreboding descriptions? Everything about this whole setup is incredibly suspicious and I don’t think we should accept these dolls.”

“Even if this whole thing didn’t scream danger, I still wouldn’t want these things,” Melua muttered. “They’re all so freaky.”

Doctor Q slammed his fist on the stand, making the girls jump. “You’ll accept these Lifelike Action Figures and you’ll like it!”

“Okay, fine! We’ll take the stupid dolls!” Melua turned to the others. “I’m…going with B. Ginner. It’s the least freaky of the bunch.”

Katia shrugged. “Alright, I’ll go with O. D. Nary then.”

“Wait, but that leaves me with D. Fee Cult!” Tenia whined. “It’s so freaky with that swollen pumpkin head!”

“Too late, Tenia. At least it looks like the ultimate dudebro with that outfit.”

She groaned. “Fine. Maybe I can freak Touya out by sticking it in his room…”

The three girls reluctantly accepted their prizes. God, they were so freaky and ugly.

As they studied their freaky prizes, the dolls decided to make themselves more horrifying by suddenly opening their eyes.

“AHH! WHAT THE FU—”

The dolls began to glow, blotting out their view with bright technicolor light. The girls heard Doctor Q laugh maniacally before they blacked out.

__________________

Katia awoke with a splitting headache. She rolled onto her side and pushed herself off the sand, rubbing her head with a groan. Thankfully, her ears didn’t get any sand in them—they were however filled with the sound of the ocean’s grey waves, destined to seek life beyond the shore just out of reach. Er, wait—I mean she heard the ocean lapping against the shore.

…Wait, when the hell did she get to the beach?

Katia looked up and nearly fell over when the first thing she saw were two of those freaky dolls she, Tenia, and Melua had been given moving around like they were alive. Also, they had somehow become as big as she was.

“AHH, HOLY SHIT!”

Her outburst drew the attention of the dolls, who also startled back and screamed. Their voices sounded an awful lot like—

…Wait.

“Tenia? Melua?” Katia asked tentatively as she looked down at herself. The clothes she was wearing certainly weren’t those she had on at the carnival. And her skin was definitely not pink before.

The only thing she knew that had this ungodly pallor and disgustingly bright set of clothes was…that doll…

Looking back up, she saw that the other two seemed to have drawn the same conclusion as her. Their expressions slowly shifted into that of surprise and growing horror. Faced with this terrible realization, the girls reacted the only way they knew how:

By screaming about it.

“NOOOOO! THE LAST THING I WANTED WAS TO BECOME THIS FREAKY PUMPKIN-HEAD DOLL!”

“Dammit, I knew we were going to wind up in some crazy situation one day!”

“This is the last time I play crappy carnival games or accept ugly dolls from strangers!”

Their freak-out session was interrupted by a bottle washing up on the shore. Inside was a rolled-up paper. The three girls looked at it and then at each other.

Tenia walked over to the bottle, uncorking it and pulling out the paper inside. She unfurled it as the other two came over to read the message written on it.

Dear suckers:

Ha! You have fallen into my trap! I have implanted your minds into these DOLLS and transported you to my Secret Island! Unless you can solve all my puzzles and meet all my challenges, you’ll never see your bodies again! You’ll be real nobodies! Get it? NO BODIES! Ha ha ha ha ha

Yours Q-ly,

Doctor Quandary

“…Well, that explains how we got in this situation,” Tenia muttered.

“What the heck is wrong with this guy? Who the hell thinks ‘I’m going to go trap random kids into ugly dolls for shits and giggles’? Literally what does he stand to gain from doing any of this?”

“…Katia, I think we should be more concerned about possibly losing our bodies forever at the moment,” Melua said.

“Yeah, but how are we supposed to get our bodies back? What, is he going to make us make some fixer elixir by completing his stupid challenges?”

As Katia spoke, Tenia walked over to the recycling bin that was conveniently placed nearby and dropped the message inside. Recycling was a habit she gained after Calvina got really angry at her for littering. Surprisingly, Calvina cared a lot about the environment.

Much to her surprise, a receipt popped out after she recycled the message.

“Wait, what? I got a receipt for recycling?” She picked it up and read the big words printed on the top. “…Doctor Q’s Fixer Elixir?”

Katia stared at her. “Are you kidding me.”

She and Melua went over to read the list with Tenia. They went through the entire list in silence.

“…What kind of an ingredient list is this?” Tenia asked. “What do you mean, ‘under-the-table decoration’? Who writes a recipe in riddles?”

Melua pointed at the directions. “The directions aren’t better. ‘Heat it up until it’s too hot to drink’? ‘Drink it’? Screw you too, Doctor Q.”

Tenia groaned. “This is gonna suck. We’re gonna need some major help with this one.”

She pulled out her phone from…somewhere and dialed a number. Katia stared at her pocketless shorts.

“…Where did you get your phone from?”

__________________

The Ferris wheel had been stopped for a whole ten minutes with no signs of moving yet. Heck, the maintenance workers hadn’t even shown up. Trapped in one of the compartments at the top were Calvina, Touya, and the Akatsuki twins. Calvina glared at everyone else as they all sat in awkward silence.

“I told you this thing would break down.”

Touya looked at the floor while Akimi and Akemi stared out of opposite windows.

“…Worth it.”

“Was it? Was it really?”

“…A little.”

Calvina sighed. “This is almost as bad as that time we were stuck in that escape shuttle meant for only two people at best.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s that bad,” Touya replied. “At least this time we have breathing room and you don’t have to steer with Akimi’s ass in your face.”

Akimi coughed. “Yeah, this…is a lot better than that.”

“And we also don’t have any space malaria to worry about.” Akemi frowned. “How did we even get into that situation to begin with?”

Akimi shrugged. “Beats me. We just kinda…woke up like that. Anyway, I hope the ride starts again soon. Don’t freak out yet, but I kinda have to pee.”

The others stared at him.

“…I hope they get the ride fixed soon,” Touya muttered.

“I’ll beat the shit out of you if you piss yourself,” Calvina said flatly.

Akimi lowered his head. “Uh…got it…”

Akemi patted him on the shoulder. “If it comes down to it, you can probably pop open the compartment door and pee out there.”

“Ew, I’m not going to do that.”

Suddenly, Calvina’s phone rang.

“…Really, Calvina? Your ringtone is Megalovania?”

“Shut up, Touya.” She took out her phone and checked the caller ID before taking it. “What is it, Tenia?”

“Calvina, we need your help. Some old fart named Dr. Quandary forced us to play his crappy game and then stuffed our souls into these ugly ass dolls. Now we’re stranded on his secret island and he’s making us solve a bunch of puzzles to gather ingredients to make what sounds like a very unappetizing drink to cure our dollness. We gotta do it, because otherwise we’ll be stuck like this forever and I don’t want to be an ugly ass pumpkin-head dudebro forever, this doll is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. So can you please help us solve these puzzles when we get to them?”

“…What?”

“What did Tenia get into?” Touya asked.

“Apparently she, Katia, and Melua played a suspicious carnival game in the ten minutes we were separated and then the guy running the stand stuffed their souls into some dolls. Or something.”

“…What?” the other three said at the same time.

“Yeah…” Calvina frowned. “Wait, if you three are stuck in dolls without your bodies how do you still have your phone?”

In the background, she heard Katia shout, “That’s what I asked!” Tenia on the other hand was silent.

“…I don’t know, but it’s convenient, shut up. Are you going to help us or not?”

Calvina rubbed her forehead. “I mean, I guess…it’s not like the four of us are going anywhere, since these idiots wanted to ride the Ferris wheel so damn badly.” She glared at the others once again.

“What? But that thing was obviously going to break down!”

“Yeah, that’s what I said! But nooo, we just had to ride it. Look, I’m putting you on speaker now so everyone can hear what you’re saying.”

She did exactly that before setting her phone on her leg. “Okay, what are we dealing with? Where are you right now?”

“Uh, we’re on a beach. I got a message in a bottle and recycled it to get a recipe for this ‘Fixer Elixir’ which is probably the thing that’s supposed to turn us back to normal. The recipe is weird as shit though. Here, I’ll send Touya a pic.”

Touya’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out. A moment later he held out his phone to show Tenia’s pic. Everyone leaned in to read.

“…What the hell is ‘under-the-table decoration’ supposed to mean?” Akimi asked.

“That’s what I want to know!”

“Well…this seems like the start of a whole bunch of ‘what the hell is this shit’ shenanigans,” Akemi muttered as she went over the list. “Maybe we’ll get a better idea what the heck any of this is supposed to be once you start getting things.”

“I guess…I see a forest nearby so we’re going to head there first. Come on guys, let’s go.”

Calvina sighed. “This is going to be a long day…”

[mf-despair-queen]

Jigsaw Pieces - Chapter 2 - Mitch Rapp

Author: @mf-despair-queen​

Characters: Mitch Rapp/Reader

Word Count: 4,349

Summary: "Her name is Katrina... Katrina Harper.” Mitch asks for his friend’s blessing to ask out his crush.

Warnings: Soft Mitch, Kind Angsty I guess (in the end)

Notes: Um... shit hit the fan :D

April 2012

“Two grande hot chocolates, one with extra whipped cream, and two blueberry scones!” the barista behind the counter called. You quickly grabbed the hot drinks and sweet treats, giving a smile of thanks.

“You’re the best, Julie!” you called.

“You should lay off that whipped cream, Y/N!” she called back.

You laughed, bundling closer in your jacket and adjusting your bag on your shoulder before leaving the warmth of the Starbucks. The cold air instantly reddened your cheeks, the late April weather still hovering around the fifties during the day, especially with the storm front that passed over Syracuse within the last week. You rushed onto the street with the drinks in hand, bounding towards your apartment not far from your local coffee shop.

Your phone beeped twice, your shaking hand digging into your pocket to fish it out. The screen lit up to show the text from Mitch on the screen over the picture of you guys on your first day at Syracuse.

[B(M)itch: I’m on my way. I swear if you aren’t there, I will hunt your scrawny little ass down and throw you in your apartment’s pool because it’s freezing and I’m hungry.]

[B(M)itch: PS I got pizza to go with the scones.]

“Asshole,” you scowled. “How the hell did he know I bought scones?!”

The people around stared at you, eyebrows raised when they found you talking to yourself. You rose an eyebrow back.

“What? Never seen a college girl talk to herself?” you snapped, running away before anyone could question. Your constant mutters of curses slid off your tongue as you ran, bag bouncing at your side despite being weighed down by textbooks.

Your doorway was barren when you arrived, a sigh of relief escaping. “Safe!” you called, unlocking the door and strutting inside. Your keys were hung by the door, jacket placed in the closet and shoes kicked off at the rack in the entryway. Your bag was dropped on the couch, the scones and piping hot drinks placed on the table, steam billowing through the opening in your cup from your sips. Down the hall in your bedroom, you changed into a baggy pair of sweats and a Syracuse Lacrosse hoodie you stole from Mitch your first year. His name was plastered on the back in large white letters, the large twenty-four covering most of your smaller frame. The man was muscled and tall, so his clothes were always three times too large on you, metaphorically. Even swimming in the comfortable fabric, you were comfortable and wore it often to keep warm in your tiny home.

Snuggled in the warmth of fresh clothes that managed to always smell of Mitch’s Viktor and Rolf Spicebomb cologne, you moved to the bathroom to clean yourself free of makeup, running your brush through your hair to remove the knots that formed in the breezy weather. The sleeve slid down your arm to show the permanent black ink on your wrist you admired every day. The reminder of the man you called your best friend and the inspiration you needed to keep going every day when life seemed to be too much. Even if people didn’t know what it meant, it mattered to you.

You collapsed on the couch, pulling out the books and study guides you were being provided by your professors. You turned on some low music in the background for your study time, cracking open the book for your computer science class. Humming along to the beat of the music, words began to appear on the paper, explaining the items listed for your final exams in neat bullet points of clear and concise information.

Partway through the first page, a knock on your door resonated through your small apartment. The floor was slippery, your feet nestled in fuzzy socks sliding when you attempted to rush to answer it. On the other side was the familiar man you had known for years. His hair was longer than when you graduated, the ends splitting from his desperate need for a trim. The locks were matted to his forehead from sweat, beads still dripping down his chiseled jawline. Despite the cold air outside, he wore athletic shorts that dipped low against his waist, his black muscle shirt riding up when he moved his backpack against his shoulder to have a better position. His abs were deeply ebbed in his stomach with a dark trail of partially curly hair disappearing into his shorts. His biceps bulged through the sleeves of his shirt, making it seem like they were going to rip when they flexed. The short sleeved short clung to his form perfectly, outlining his body to show every rippled of his pecs, sleeves cut off his bicep. Veins ran up and down his arms and onto his hand, pumping with adrenaline-laced blood. His cheeks were speckled with the constellation of dots that you could see in the sky whenever you looked up at the darkness. His own black mark on his wrist contrasted to his skin, but stood out proudly for everyone to see.

It was a blessing and a curse sometimes to be best friends with Mitch Rapp considering he was a visual marvel to match his distinctive personality.

“Hey, Mitchy,” you greeted, moving aside to let him in. His lacrosse gear was deposited remorselessly by the door, the man moving into the living room with the pizza he picked up in hand. The door clicked shut behind you, plates grabbed for the cheesy greasebomb topped with five kinds of meat before sitting next to him. “How was practice?”

“Killer,” he groaned, wiping at the sweat on his forehead. “Coach Collins is putting us through the grind.” Mitch rolled his shoulders, making you back away before he smacked you in the face. You grimaced at the way his joints popped and cracked from the simple rolls, his neck circling around. His hair flopped when he shook off the tension, settling back into the leather seat.

“That’s what you get for getting us to State. Maybe you should try sucking once and a while and you wouldn’t have to work extra hard,” you laughed.

“If we didn’t make it to State, I think he would be killing us for sucking dick,” Mitch cackled. “Besides, I can’t help that I’m just that good. Three years and we have gone to State every time because of me.”

“You are one cocky ass, Mitch,” you laughed.

“I’m not cocky. Just talented,” he proclaimed.

“Right. You’re some All-American Lacrosse player now,” you hummed. “You must be a hit with the ladies.”

“Damn straight.”

“You’re the worst,” you laughed. “Well, for now, let eat some greasy food and study for our finals.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me.” His lips curled upwards, taking a slice from the box. Half of it was bit off in one chomp, the man giving you a cheeky wink. “Except the studying thing of course. There’s a lot better things I can think of doing instead.”

“Oh my God, Mitch. Ew.”

“What? I never said what! Get your mind out of the gutter, Y/N!”

In less than an hour, the entire pizza was gone, the hot chocolate cups were bone dry and tipped on their sides carelessly and your living room was covered in open, scattered books and papers with incoherent words written in colored pens and highlighted brightly. You popped questions off each other for the classes you shared, helping each other with flashcards for the classes that were different. The time seemed to fly between you, the comfortable aura around you helping you to relax and study more efficiently.

“Hey, Y/N,” he started quietly, making you glance up from your study guide and book. Mitch shook his head when he saw you holding your pen in your mouth as you read, a smile on his face.

“If you are asking for the answer to question twelve, it’s Kaiken, the process of continuous improvement.”

“I wasn’t going to ask about that,” Mitch sneered, shoving you playfully. “Plus, I already had the answer.”

“Well aren’t you just a smarty pants,” you scoffed, laughing when he shoved you again. “Fine, fine! What did you want?”

“I wanted to ask you something,” he mused.

“You just did.”

“Not the time for your sarcastic nature,” He groaned, pulling you onto his lap. Your book fell with a thump, pages bending against the hardwood floor, and your study guide floated away, resting under the table next to the scone bag Mitch careless threw out. His fingers found your sides under the baggy hoodie, tickling you until you were squealing and writhing in his grip, legs kicking aimless through the air. Unfortunately, he was strong and kept you locked in place, grinning almost sadistically. “Now, will you let me talk?”

“Yes, yes! I’m sorry!” you cried through your laughs, trying to escape his grasp. “Mercy! Mercy! Please! No more!”

“But you’re adorable when you laugh,” he teased. “You’ve always been so ticklish. It’s your biggest weakness.”

“Mitch, please!” you cried, squirming more. The burn of his touch traveled up your spine, goosebumps prickling at your skin. Tears spilled from your eyes joyfully, your cheeks hurting from the large smile. “I’m sorry! You win!”

“I thought so,” he quipped, pulling his hands back, leaving you cold. He kept you perched on his lap, arms wrapping around your waist so you could lean back against his chest. You traced the mark on his wrist, smiling to yourself as you did.

“What did you need, Mitch?”

“What’s your take on relationships?” he asked. It was so soft and out of character for Mitch that you thought you misheard him. Freezing, you stopping tracing his puzzle piece before turning to look at him. He kept his gaze hard on the ground in front of you, ignoring your stare.

“What?” you asked.

“Relationships,” he asked again, confirming what you heard the first time. Your brow furrowed, forehead wrinkling in pure confusion. Never once had you known Mitch to care about relationships. He had his fair share of them, though he classified them more as flings since they never lasted longer than a few weeks at max and he didn’t develop deep feelings for them in that time. “How do you feel about them?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered. You hadn’t really thought much on it. You had seen a guy early in college, but ended it quickly to focus on classes. Plus, the guy was either scared of Mitch or jealous of him since you were so close to the lacrosse player. Mitch, personally, assumed it was the former, not the latter answer. “I mean, relationships are nice, I guess. It depends on who it is with and how strongly you feel about them. They provide emotional and physical support that others might not necessarily be able to provide. And let’s be honest, Mitch. Sex is a healthy thing for the body.

“Personally, I’m not interested I guess in any sort of a relationship right now. I just want to focus on school so I can graduate on time. And I don’t really need someone in that way. I have everything I want and need right now. I’m happy. One day, yeah. Having a relationship would be wonderful, but not right now.”

“I see,” he murmured.

“Why do you ask?” Mitch said nothing. You slid off his lap to turn and look at him better, watching his hands wring together nervously. His knee was bouncing and his eye stayed on the same spot on the floor. Your head cocked to the side, watching the man curiously. He was never like this. Mitch Rapp exuded confidence from every fiber of his being and this was completely abnormal him. “Mitch, what’s wrong?”

“I…” he started, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “There’s this girl in my business management class that I’ve been talking to for a while. She’s really sweet and smart. She’s absolutely beautiful. And we hit if off better than I have with most people. I have had these long conversations with her when we are in class and we’ve been studying together. It’s been really great.”

“Really?” you hummed. “Do you have a picture?”

Mitch nodded, grabbing his phone from the table. He swiped through his photos, clicking on one of the beautiful blonde sticking her tounge out cheesily at the camera. Her hazel eyes were bright and her smile was refreshing. You could see why Mitch took a liking to her. Even with just a glance of a picture, you could see that she was going to be a kind soul to your often egotistical friend.

“She’s pretty,” you hummed, handing him back the phone. “So, how do you feel about her?”

Mitch’s lips pursed, rubbing together dryly. “It’s been a long time, but I’m pretty sure I have what the kids these days would call a crush on her.” His words and tone smelled of sarcasm, but you could see the truth in his brown eyes. He meant what he said.

“And what is the name of this crush?” you mused.

Mitch chuckled, shaking his head at your curiosity. He finally laid his head back, glancing over at you. “Katrina,” he muttered barely loud enough for you to hear. “Her name is Katrina Harper.”

“Pretty name,” you replied shortly.

Your gut, honestly, had sunk when he told you about his crush. A crack formed in your heart, your eyes downcast without him seeing. You never wanted to admit it - to yourself as much as to him. Over the years, the friendship you had with the fluffy haired lacrosse player had turned into a teeny, tiny crush - though, it may be a bit larger than that. It was one of those things you realize when you spend all of your time with your best friend - you realize how happy they make you. That was what Mitch did for you. He was your best friend and he was there for you. The older you got, the more you could recognize the symptoms of this crush.

He was attractive. He was smart. He made you laugh. And, he made you feel special. It was inevitable that one day, you would wake up and feel your cheeks get a bit warmer when he glanced your way with the deep brown eyes that made you melt like the chocolate color they were. Whenever you were with him, he made the butterflies in your stomach flutter by doing nothing but be himself. He made you smile, always putting you first even when he was tired from lacrosse. Mitch made it impossible not to like him.

It wasn’t something you ever were going to act on sadly. You knew he didn’t see you the same way. You were the best friend for life. You had tattoos to show that. Why would he ever think of you as anything more? So, to save you crushing humiliation and defeat, you kept your feelings to yourself. Risking your friendship with Mitch was not on the agenda at all. And even if it cost you some happiness now that he was coming forth with this crush on a girl he had known for a semester - maybe more, who knows - you knew you would recover in time. You would get over your crush and he would still be in your life.

“So, why are you telling me about your crush on Katrina?” you asked. “Are we like the Gossip Girls now? Is this our time to share all our deep, dark secrets?”

“You wish,” Mitch chuckled. His face turned serious, sitting up straight on the couch. His large hand ran through his hair, feeling your eyes burning into the side of his head. You watched his nose flare and chest heave with heavy, unsure breaths. A few times, his mouth would open to talk but nothing would come out. It wasn’t until you reached over, taking his hand in yours, before he spoke. “I wanted to ask for your blessing to ask her out.”

“What?” you asked. “Why would you ask for my blessing for that? You don’t need my blessing to ask a girl out, Mitch.”

“But I do,” he said firmly. “Y/N, you are my best friend. Your opinion matters to me. Your happiness matters to me. We are a packaged deal in the end because no girl is going to make me abandon my best friend. Especially if I’m going to be serious with someone. With me comes you because you are my other half. I ask for your blessing because I don’t want to just date a girl without you knowing or being ok with it. I want you to be happy too. I want you to know that I’m not leaving you for anyone. You mean the absolute world to me. You know that. I can’t live without you in my life. And I feel like it would be the most disgusting thing for me to do that to you.

“I want you to be alright with this. And you have every right to tell me no. You can tell me I’m being stupid and that I should focus on school and lacrosse. You can be truthful and tell me that you just don’t want me to date. Be selfish! I will respect that if that’s what you feel! I just want you to be ok with this because this affects you just as much as it affects me. You are part of me. You are part of my life. And anyone in my future has to know that.”

He took your hand, tracing the tattoo that aligned with his.

“Remember, you have a piece of me and I can’t do this without you. You have to tell me I can ask out Katrina because no matter what happens, you will be by my side because I need you.”

You replayed the words in your mind. Your heart started pounding the more you did, breaking apart what he meant. Even dating, he didn’t want to leave you. Even dating, he wanted you happy. Even dating, he wanted you to be ok with it. He was putting you first at this point. It meant a lot to you that he cared about your opinion, though you didn’t know this girl at all. You were a part of his life no matter what and as much as he wanted you to accept his potential relationship, he knew he couldn’t leave you behind because you were such an integral part of his life. He was your best friend and the marks on your arm weren’t there for show.

Everything he said made you smile, blushing a light pink.

Slowly, you straddled his hips, cupping his face in your hands. Your thumbs ran along his cheeks, making him look up at you. “Mitch, you are my best friend,” you said, throwing his own words in his face. “Your happiness is all I’ve ever wanted. Seeing you happy and smiling is something I live off of because you deserve the world. I want to see you succeed and thrive and your elation makes me ecstatic. And if Katrina makes you as happy as you say, then you have my permission to ask her out.

“Honestly, you didn’t have to ask me. I appreciate the thought, Mitch. You know I do. But, you are twenty-one now. You are able to make decisions that I don’t need to be part of. Because, deep down, I know that no matter what happens, I will be there to support you. No matter what happens between you guys - if you break up or you stay together for the rest of your lives - I will be by your side cheering you on. Even if you are dating, I know you will be my best friend. We have been through too much together for a relationship to keep us apart. You are my best friend and nothing can tear us apart.

“But, if you do this Mitch, I don’t want you to prioritize me. You ask her out and you make this relationship work,” you told him. “When you need me, I will be here for you. If you want to hang out, you know how to get a hold of me. But, don’t try to integrate me into your relationship because you want to keep me in your life. Do what you feel is right and know that I will always be here for you because I want you happy no matter what.”

You took his wrist, kissing his tattoo. “You hold a piece of me, Mitch Rapp. I will always be with you in your heart when you need me. I’m not leaving you, I promise.”

“You’re sure about this?” he asked. His voice was husky, a hidden emotion that wasn’t discernable in his quiet words.

“Of course, Mitch,” you said, pushing his hair back. “If it makes you happy, then I’m ok with it.”

“Ok,” he whispered.

His eyes seemed duller than before and his lips remained sealed. You were lifted easily off his lap, both of you returning to studying for a quiet half hour. The tension was palpable, so thick and silent that you could hear the hands on the clock tick with each passing second. You swore he could heart your uneven heartbeat that was pounding in your chest. The scrawl of pens on papers and Mitch’s incessant click of a highlighter rang in your ears.

You were beginning to regret what you said, eyes blankly staring at your textbooks. Did I say something wrong?

“I should probably get going,” Mitch muttered, shutting his Business Management book. Watching him shove his books and papers in his backpack, you nodded quietly, shutting your own book. You grabbed some of the trash that was scattered around your tiny apartment while Mitch gathered his stuff, slipping on his own hoodie that was stuffed in his bag for the dusky chill. His backpack hung from his shoulder, his lacrosse gear sitting by the door already.

“Get home safely, alright?” you told him while walking him to the door. Mitch nodded silently, tugging open the door. Both of you stepped out, glancing at the moonlit sky that was still turning a dark shade of black. The glowing orb was high above your heads, shining on your bodies more than the weak bulb outside your door. “Hey, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” came his not-so-convincing reply. You frowned, grabbing his wrist, right where his mark was.

“I know you better than that, Rapp,” you huffed. “Sometimes, I think you forget how long we’ve known each other. You can’t hide these things from me. I can see right through you. So, please tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s nothing-”

“What’s wrong, Mitch?” you solemnly but sternly asked.

He glanced up at your puppy-like stare at him, your orbs large and worried. They were somewhat glassy from unshed tears, hurting internally because of his quiet behavior, debating if you had done something wrong. Your thumb smoothed over his jigsaw tattoo, warming his skin with a smoldering fire. He glanced at your lips, seeing them tremble from the cold New York weather, the temperature having dropped with the sunset. Specks of snow were starting to fall on your heads, melting the second they came in contact with your warm forms. A couple white flakes landed on your heads, sticking to your hair with a bright sheen. Your lips were plump and pink, slightly parted with puffs of smoke coming out with each breath.

His hand moved to your cheek, stroking it tenderly as he whispered, “Forgive me.”

“Wha-”

His lips were on yours in an instant. You felt explosions going off inside you and all around, melting into the kiss. Your lips molded together perfectly, matching the images imprinted on your skin for life; they fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle, moving together in unison and harmony. He had to lean down to meet you, his body towering over you like normal. Your lips tingled from his touch, his lips soft and luscious in every movement. Eyes fluttering closed, you squeezed his wrist tighter, wanting to pull him closer. The ends of his hair tickled at your face, tilting his head to get a better angle. His hand never dropped from your cheek, tenderly caressing it. You body was screaming for more, yearning for this moment to never end. Your stomach was churning happily, ecstasy flowing through your veins. The entire kiss was slow and sensual, time coming to an outright stop. Neither of you pushed further, the emotional levels already high.

It felt perfect.

Yet, something felt wrong.

He pulled away, lips still lingering against yours. They would brush if either of you spoke, sending more sparks through your system. You both were breathing heavily, not wanting to move away. His apology in the beginning sat heavily in the back of your mind, making your head throb with unanswered questions. “Mitch…” you started to whisper.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered huskily in a low voice. “But I had to do that. Just once…”

You felt alone.

When your eyes opened, he was gone, having run off before you could realize what had happened. Your body was cold. Your lips felt numb. Your heart dropped into your stomach, cracked beyond belief and dissolving into stomach acid. A single tear slid down your cheek as you stared at the sky. The questions sat on your lips, unspoken for anyone but yourself to hear. They quivered shut, hands gripping at the bottom of the hoodie you were smothered in. You wanted to reach out for him, but you knew all that remained was the ghost of his presence.

And, for over two years, you were forced to watch from afar as he dated the blonde haired beauty, aimlessly rubbing at your wrist where a tingle of happiness itched your best friend mark for some unknown reason.

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