LOOK AFTER YOU ✩ MAX VERSTAPPEN
SUMMARY: in which max and you have always found it really hard to move on from each other.
(inspired by the fray's song, look after you.)
FACE CLAIM: cindy kimberly
CONTAINS: reader!alonso, spanish!reader, angst due to past memories of your relationship with max, emotional cheating, use of y/n, could possibly trigger your daddy issues lols & kind of right person, wrong time trope!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: kinda felt like i rushed it and didn't go the way i wanted idk lol but hope you guys like it anyways! also i'm close to 1k followers, you guys are truly the best & ilysm !! 😭
yn_alonso
liked by fernandoalo_oficial, lance_stroll and 1,386,543 others
yn_alonso as my father says class not ass 🎀 #26
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fernandoalo_oficial mi nina bonita, te queiro mucho 🥹🥹
yn.alonso i love you pa 🥹💓
username i aspire to be y/n when i grow up
username ate as usual, happy birthdayyy!
landonorris TAKE ME IM READY
yn.alonso lan please 😭😭
fernandoalo_oficial norris, i'll see you soon.
username oop her dad is going to go after you
alexandrasaintmleux I LUV YOU BAE
yn.alonso I LUV UUU
charlesleclerc 🧐🧐
username ah i love it happy birthday! 🥳
lilymhe 26 has never looked so good!!
lance_stroll 😍
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maxverstappen1 happy birthday! 🎈
yn.alonso thank youu! 💘
username lmaoo someone go check on kelly!!
posted on may 27th, 2023
✩
ever since you were born your father had been super protective over you, even at your grown age he was still meddling in your life whenever he possibly could but you couldn't complain about it because you liked to meddle in his life just as much too.
"if you don't quit eating that burrito..." you told your father as you took the burrito out of his hands just for him to snatch it back. "you're going to stink up my kitchen."
he rolled his eyes and put the burrito down. "which i paid for so technically speaking this is my kitchen too."
now here you were in paris on a date that your father had set up for you and on the phone with him.
"i'm with lance right now at an ice cream shop." you told your father through the phone while lance was picking at your ice cream cone. "no, lance is driving us."
he chuckled when you passed your phone towards to him and he put it up to his ear for a few seconds before speaking. "yes sir, i will drive carefully and she will be back in her house by eight."
once the conversation was done he handed your phone back. "he said i better be sleeping in the guest room and that he would see us tomorrow morning."
had it been any other guy, your father would've definitely flew out just to spy on the two of you but he actually liked lance and encouraged you to hang out with him — except the both of you only liked each other as friends so lance covered for you when you had dates with someone.
just a few years back your father pushed a few boys out of your lives due to them not being the correct fit for you.
"dad it's not fair, it's just one date!" you remembered your seventeen self yell at your dad. "max is a good guy and he even asked you for permis-"
he shook his head. "i don't care what he did, i am your father and you do as i say!"
then there was the time when you were twenty-two, there was pictures circulating of charles leclerc taking you out for dinner and also a video of him leaving your hotel room the next morning.
"you can do better than charles, he doesn't know how to settle down and that's not the type of guy you need in your life!" your father ended up calling you as soon as he saw those pictures. "i liked max better."
✩
maxverstappen1
liked by yn_alonso, charlesleclerc and 1,532,879 others
maxverstappen1 happy 22nd birthday to my baby! ❤️
tagged: yn_alonso
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username mi mama y papa 🥹
username enjoy your day y/n!!
yn_alonso i love you 😚
maxverstappen1 i love you more ❤️
username why are they actually the cutest i'm cryinggg
fernandoalo_oficial look after her tonight, see you guys tomorrow!
maxverstappen1 always!
username 🎂
kellypiquet my favs, happy birthday y/n!
posted on may 27th, 2020
✩
max looked back at an old post he had posted for your birthday back when you guys were still together.
everyone loved you, your dad had been in formula one for the longest time so everyone basically saw you grow up but nobody knew you the way he had grown to know you — the two of you had been broken up for a few years now but remained friends, only greeting each other once in awhile whenever you guys had to.
"i don't understand why you haven't deleted your pictures with her." his now girlfriend, kelly told him. "we already take car of her ca-"
"it's our cat." max corrected. "so it is my responsibly to watch her just as much as it is hers."
during the short time that you guys had moved in with each other in 2020, he had gifted you a siamese cat and named her saturn which the both of you now co-parented for.
he had been playing with penelope when she rushed into the room talking about the comment he left on your post. "whose y/n?" penelope asked as she passed a tea cup over to max.
kelly let out a huff and sat down with them. "nobody important."
you were still important to him.
he had began liking you in his first year of formula one and you obviously liked him but it had been complicated to even see each other due to your dad being so overprotective over you.
"i really don't think we should sneak around..." max quietly advised as you pulled him into your hotel room but as soon as your lips reached his he changed his mind and just at eighteen years old, he did not really get how to do this boyfriend thing since you're the first girl he had ever taken seriously but he quickly learned because you had began to feel like home to him.
"her dad is a cool guy but when it comes to her he is kinda scary." daniel ricciardo told him as they walked to an interview. "better hope he doesn't find out."
max at the time thought you guys would not get caught — aside from your father not wanting him to see you, his father also didn't particularly like you because he believed you were getting in the way of his racing. "forget about seeing that little girl, you're not about to let some girl ruin your career that i helped you prepare for." he remembered his father telling him after seeing you guys kiss and max dragging you into his hotel room earlier that day.
you of coarse had been in the bathroom hiding, listening to their conversation and max was trying to defend his relationship with you but his father was not having it.
so it wasn't long before you heard a smack and his dad telling him he better not see you around again then max was saying everything his father wanted to hear to finally get him out of his room and be back with you.
as you heard the door close, you heard something being thrown at the door and you slowly walked out of the bathroom to see some tears coming out of max's face. "i swear i hate him!"
you had gone to wipe the tears off his face and as you hugged him, you saw the glass cup that was thrown at the door. "it's okay baby..."
in that moment max realized that every time he was losing his control and felt like the city was spinning around, you were the only one who knew how to slow it down.
"i mean we just won't get caught next time." you gave him a halfhearted smile while wrapping your arms around him while he nodded hugging you even tighter.
but during the last race of his first year your father had caught you guys after following daniel who was trying to cover for you guys.
✩
fernandoalo_oficial
liked by yn_alonso, maxverstappen1, and 1,122,342 others
fernandoalo_oficial i wanted to wish my little (not so little anymore) girl a happy birthday! i had you at only seventeen years old and it has been you and me since the very beginning, i wish i could go back in time to see you as a little girl one more time but those are powers i have yet to figure out. #26
feliz cumpleaños mi niña bonita 💛🌻
tagged: yn_alonso
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username crying in daddy issues
yn_alonso pa i'm crying! te amo mucho!! 💛 (i love you so much)
fernandoalo_oficial i love you more!
username my dad could never
username does she want a step mother???
yn_alonso uh no i don't 🤺
mclaren happy birthday y/n!!
liked by yn_alonso, fernandoalo_oficial
username what! i remember when she was 6 first entering the paddock!
username not max in the likes!!
username well they're friends lol
username she's so beautiful 😭
astonmartinf1 happiest birthday to our favorite girl!!
liked by yn_alonso, fernandoalo_oficial
posted on may 27th, 2023
✩
everyone knew fernando's daughter meant the world to him.
as a single teenage father he remembered the moment he first laid eyes on you, he had wanted to quit racing because he knew his career was time consuming and he wouldn't be able to give you all the time in the world.
"no puedes, fórmula uno siempre ha sido tu prioridad número u-" (you can't, formula one has always been your number one priority)
fernando shook his head as he looked towards your crib, you were only a few weeks old and had just fallen asleep after about an hour of fussing. "ella es mi primera prioridad ahora." (she's my first priority now)
it took a good while before your grandparents could get him to continue doing what he had always loved doing and when he finally entered formula one, he had decided to bring you along to wherever his races were just so he could make time to spend with you — of coarse his mother could not stay away from her only granddaughter so she tagged along.
at eight years old, his little girl was beginning to do as she pleases.
"y/n, no more cand-" your father stopped as he saw you opening up the chocolate wrapper with a smile. "you better no-" you had finally bit into your snicker bar and gave him another toothy smile that he adored. "after that one, you better not have another."
you nodded and ran off with schumacher's kids, later splitting another chocolate bar with mick.
"crees que tengo algo de qué preocuparme?" he asked referring to what he was currently seeing, he watched mick and you chasing each other around. (do you think i have something to worry about?)
his mother chuckled and shook her head. "nando, solo son niños."(nando, they're just kids.)
at thirteen years old, he was trying everything in his power to make sure you stayed his little girl.
"no, find another dress that goes down below your knees." your father told you and continued going through the other dresses.
you shook your head and tried on another dress that you somewhat liked.
"now that's beautiful!" he nodded his head to the dress.
you gave your grandmother a look but she shrugged and you groaned. "papá, me gustó mucho el otro vestido!" (dad, i really liked the other dress!)
so after bickering back and forth about the dress, you had won and your father was now paying for the two hundred dollar dress and whatever else you had him holding throughout the store.
at sixteen years old, he had finally started seeing you as a beautiful young women and not his baby girl.
"escúchame..." he began and dangled the keys to your brand new car that he had just bought you in front of your face. "you will drive carefully! no listening to music too loud, no texting or calling and i want to know where you are every hour." (listen to me)
you nodded and kissed his cheek. "yes pa, thank you so much!"
"and no boys in the car!" he sighed and gave you the keys to the car. "i really wish you had failed your drivers test again."
at eighteen years old, he was now beginning to worry about the growing friendship you had going on with max verstappen who was on his first year in formula one so he had his eyes on the both of you at all times.
"have you seen y/n?" your father asked people around the paddock and they all shook their heads. "i swear when i find her..."
being the horny teenagers that you guys were at the time, the both of you had finally found a spot where nobody was around and he had gently kissed you but before the kiss could get any further there was someone who cleared their throat.
"your dad is looking for you..." daniel ricciardo said as he gave the both of you a look. "i sent him back into the mclaren garage so you have a few minutes to wrap this up before he figures out you're not there."
there was another person clearing their throat and all three of you turned the other direction where your father stood with an angry face. "hi pa." you mumbled as you walked into his direction and he looked at max who was walking towards daniel's direction.
"i won't tell you again to leave my daughter alone."
at nineteen years old, he had a received a phone call that every parent had dreaded to ever hear.
"i'm sorry pa, the car just drove past us and i did-" you cried as he carefully hugged you.
you had been celebrating your birthday with max verstappen and lance stroll, who you had befriended this year when he joined formula one — you had been driving when you hit another car leaving you in a neck brace, max with a sprained wrist and since lance was in the back he just had a few scratches but nothing too serious.
"shh, estas bien..." (you're okay)
even though you were now nineteen and officially dating max for a few months now, as usual had made sure it was fine with your dad that you guys would be going out together and after another talk about keeping his daughter safe, he allowed you to go out with him and lance.
"i'm scared..." lance whispered to max just before entering your hospital room.
max nodded but he knew he was going to probably get it worse from your father since it was his responsibly to always look after you. "me too, he's going to kill me."
just before they entered the room they heard you apologizing to your father about getting the car crashed and that you'd pay him back but he shook his head. "the car can be replaced y/n but you can not be replaced, do you understand that? when max called me about you being here i swear my heart dropped and i couldn't even think clearly." he kissed the top of your head. "i'm glad that you are okay."
✩
yn_alonso
liked by landonorris, fernandoalo_oficial, and 1,541,292 others
yn_alonso so we both had a little hangover this morning but he placed second anyways, proudest of you! 💚
tagged: fernandoalo_oficial and astonmartinf1
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username BEST FATHER AND DRIVER
yn_alonso amen
username the cameraman had it out for you today
yn_alonso YES he were trying to catch me throw up in my little bucket i brought.
landonorris a king, congrats on p2 my father in law! 💚
fernandoalo_oficial oh shut up lando but thank you.
yn_alonso 😭😭
username 🏆💚
username was it weird seeing your ex boyfriend on the podium with your dad?
username the real question was it weird seeing kelly after all the drama last year? 😂😂
username i'm new to f1 what was the drama???
username some video got posted during the fia prize giving ceremony a few months back showing kelly telling max not to speak to y/n
username omg did you see the video of max going to hug y/n and fernando today? 🤭
posted on may 28th, 2023
✩
your father had invited max to the party he was secretly throwing that same night — he never had anything against max and he even still considered max part of the family so it wasn't awkward when max gladly accepted to go.
"a party for y/n? you are kidding right?" kelly asked as she saw max getting nicely dressed, it took her a good convincing to get him out of his usual red bull shirts so him wanting to look nice for this event was weird to her.
he applied his cologne and shrugged. "it's also for fernando so you can come kells if you really want to."
"they're not even your fami-" she shook her head with a small smile, after all max never gave her a reason to believe he couldn't be trusted. "i'll wait for you here."
so a few hours into the party he had found himself sitting outside on the porch with you and saturn on his lap. the two of you clearly had a bit much to drink since you guys were giggling a little too much causing people to look at the two of you whenever they walked by.
"twenty bucks they'll get back together by the end of this year." george whispered to his friends as they walked by for the fifth time in twenty minutes.
"thirty if they hook up tonight." alex then said.
"as if kelly would let that man go." lando responded with a laugh.
somehow you guys always ended up together at times like these or at least whenever kelly was not around, max really enjoyed these moments with you because it just reminded him of his past self with you.
"i need to go pee, come with me." you giggled as you dragged him with you but let him stay outside the door waiting for you.
he knew the two of you were perfect for each other but the two of you had constantly broken up and gotten back together so when kelly came around you had just broken up with him and he was looking for a quick fling — the morning after he had seen pictures of you and charles at the same hotel so he thought maybe you were looking for a quick fling also.
you guys had gotten back together a few weeks after and months after that, everything was going well between you guys so that was when he got you saturn as a gift also buying a shiny ring for you.
"of course i give you my blessing max!" your father told him giving him a hug. "took you long enough to finally propose to my little girl."
weeks later he had everything set up to propose to you but it was quickly ruined when kelly had been looking for him and even showed up to the apartment you guys shared.
"look my dad is waiting for me, let's just get this over with so just say what i know what you're about to say." he remembered you telling him with tears in your eyes.
you guys had plenty of breakups in the past but somehow this one felt different. "i'm not cheating on you if that is what you think."
you scoffed. "so where have you been the past few days? why is she looking for you at our apartment?"
just say it now max.
before he could continue thinking about how your last breakup went, you had came out the bathroom and held the back of your skirt.
"the zipper is stuck." you said turning around, letting him see the back of your skirt. "help?"
as he helped zip up your skirt, the three musketeers were giggling like little kids at what they were seeing and alex put his hand up for the money he was owed but quickly put it down at the next thing they saw.
you thanked him for helping you and he nodded. "it's my job to look after you." he quietly said as he finished zipping up your skirt, you had been looking through the mirror in front of you and seen the looks he was giving you.
"i'm glad you still wear the necklace..." max told you with his hand on your zipper then going to wrap his arms around your waist, resting his chin on the top of your head now looking at you through the mirror. "i would still be wearing the bracelet you gave me if it wasn't fo-"
"kelly." you nodded and just before you could shake him off.
he quickly shook his head and turned you around. "the chain broke and i haven't replaced it, would've fixed it sooner if i knew you still wore your necklace."
the two of you stayed looking into each others eyes and before anything else could happen your father walked in.
"i'm looking for my granddaughter!" he said and luckily for you guys he had been a bit tipsy he didn't realize how close you guys were. "ah there she is, hello guys we're cutting the cake c'mon!" he took saturn off one of the chairs she was resting on and quickly walked off.
even though your father hadn't seen that interaction there were the three men who did and were trying to decided who owed what to who.
✩
yn_alonso
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yn_alonso 🤫
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fernandoalo_oficial delete this immediately
yn_alonso no 🥰
username ooh who are you looking at??
username who took the picture is the real question
username i'm ynsexual
username our girl is in love!!!!
fernandoalo_oficial no she's not
username i'd do whatever 🧎🏾♂️
landonorris she was looking at me
maxfewtrell i can confirm
fernandoalo_oficial it's no times for jokes
landonorris oh sorry father-in-law, see you at dinner.
username not her dad trying to do damage control and lando messing with him 🤭
username i hope it's lando he's always in her comments
username they'd be the IT couple!!
username i dont think so cause he has said before that it's just for laughs, he loves seeing her dad get mad.
username she had a past relationship with max so could it be them?
username max and her are my endgame
username don't forget about granny kelly
lance_stroll pretty girl 🤍
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username whoever it is will be the public's enemy 😭
posted on may 29th, 2023
✩
max had found himself panicking on the inside when he saw your name pop up on his phone for the second time today while he was streaming on twitch — the two of you never called each other so he worried for a second right before penelope came to the room to hug him.
"hey p." he quickly flipped his phone over when he heard other footsteps follow along.
username: lmao why does he look so nervous?
username: is he still wearing the pants from last night?
username: he said he just got back home so possibly
username: penelope is adorable 😭
username: that was y/n calling him!!!
username: oh here comes granny kelly
obviously nothing happened last night with you, he left shortly after they cut your cake without saying bye to you and he ended up crashing at charles's place but the way everyone was assuming it was him who took your most recent picture on instagram, kelly was a bit annoyed with him.
"y/n called, she said she's taking the cat to the vet because she was sleeping all morning and suddenly woke up to throw up or something like that."
"oh no! will saturn be okay?" penelope asked looking over to max which he nodded in response and assured her the cat would be fine.
he let everyone on his stream know he had to go due to a family emergency and quickly got ready to go.
just before he could leave kelly was still going on about last night. "you just got back home and you're leaving again? over that stupid cat? over that whor-"
"watch it." he quickly turned over to face her giving her a look. "i already told you that i crashed at charles's and had it been one of our cats i would've booked a flight home as soon as i could."
"but you are always putting her first.." he began walking towards the door but she blocked it with her arms crossed. "if you leave to go see her, i hope she lets you stay at her house because you will not be welcomed here anymore."
✩
yn_alonso
liked by fernandoalo_oficial, lilymhe, and 989,321 others
yn_alonso for everyone who was concerned, saturn is doing much better! turns out she is pregnant and will be making max and i grandparents! 👵🏼💓
tagged: maxverstappen1
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fernandoalo_oficial upgraded to great grandfather! 👴🏼👍🏼
username i know those kittens will be spoiled just as much as she spoils saturn 😭
username imagine fernando? he's going to go crazy buying them things!
lilymhe ahh i told you!!
yn_alonso would've saved me a lot of money if i just listened to you lmaoo 🥲
alex_albon as if it actually hurt your bank account 😒
yn_alonso ugh you're such a hater, get out of here!!
username omg congrats saturn!!
username max is going to be a grandpa!!
posted on april 3, 2023
✩
you flicked max's forhead as soon as he arrived to your apartment and before he could even ask why you just did that, you were already carefully swooping saturn into your arms. "she only hangs around your cats so it's your fault this happened to her!"
in that moment max already figured out what had happened because his mind went back to finding saturn being real cozy with one of his cats one time.
"in my defen- ow!" you had just flicked him again and placed saturn back down onto your couch just to hit him with a pillow.
he stopped the next hit and he chuckled as he threw it at you. "she'll live but yes i'm sorry i should've told you when i saw them getting close."
so to keep you calm he did what he always did back when you guys were together and you were a bit mad with him, ordered your favorite kind of pizza and put on one of your shows you like to rewatch every now and then.
before the both of you knew it the sun had gone down and you wondered why he stayed as long as he did this time, he would never stay more than an hour.
"well i'll take these to sink..." you quietly said once you felt his head rest on your shoulder meaning he was starting to fall asleep. "i can bring you a blanket if you'd like or?"
"i can wash them." he shook his head and stood up, grabbing the plates from your hand. "but i do want to finish this episode with you so bring the blanket."
you nodded going into your room and grabbed one of the many blankets you had on your bed.
this was starting to remind you of every time you guys broke up, he'd show up buy you the pizza and watch the shows he swore up and down he hated then he'd somehow swoop you off your feet.
the both of you guys had always tried seeing other people in the short time you guys were broke up but it never worked and it resulted in finding your way back to each other — but the both of you had been broken up for three years now so you just always figured there was no chance of getting back together since he was now with kelly and he seemed genuinely happy.
when you brought back the blanket max was already laying down on the couch and just as you were about to hand it to him, he pulled you onto him and you tried getting up but he held onto you. "max, you can't do this to kelly..."
"she kicked me out, it's done."
even though you still felt a bit wrong about this whole situation, your arms wrapped around his neck and hid your head into the crook of his neck.
you had missed this feeling.
"you don't understand how much i missed you baby..." he found this as an opportunity to hug you tighter and place a kiss onto the side of your head. "i should've never let you leave me in the first place."
you groaned hearing those words and he chuckled. "it was a pretty dumb decision."
you guys were now locking eyes and he wanted to kiss you but he stopped himself before he could. "i want you to know this isn't a rebound thing, i want to make this work with you but for real this time. no more breakups."
"no more breakups." you repeated his words with a little nod. "but we're taking this slow max so no kissing right now."
he groaned and sighed. "fine but stay here with me so i can look after you."
✩
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maxverstappen1 good way to end the month!
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yn_alonso te amooo ❤️
maxverstappen1 te amo more ❤️
username bro is literally winning in life 🧍🏻♀️
landonorris i am up for adoption (just in case)
yn_alonso sorry we don't take in strays 🙂
georgerussell63 please just get married already
alex_albon ^^ i agree
maxverstappen1 trust me, i'm working on it.
username NEVER break up again! 😭
username this was not very girls girl of her.
fernandoalo_oficial nobody is as happy as i am right now! 🥲
liked by yn_alonso & maxverstappen1
username ah more kitties!!!
kellypiquet wow alright.
username grandma is that you? 😂😂
username FINALLY!
posted on march 2, 2024
𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
© 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐧𝐝-𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐜 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤.
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The Consequences of Fucking Up
“Your break up was messy and painful. All you want to do is to forget about him. His friends, who ever since you ended it with Yoongi see you as their bullying target, make sure that the memory of him stays fresh in your mind however, haunting you day by fucking day. While Yoongi makes it seem as if he gives no fuck about your situation. Until one night he is in front of your door. Drunk and fucking regretful.”
♥️ Requested by anonie ♥️
Pairing: Gangster!Yoongi x f.Reader
Genre: Exes!AU, Messy Break-Up!AU, Crime!AU, Cop!AU, Hurt and Comfort, Angst, Smut, a lil bit of Fluff
Wordcount: 15.9k
Warnings: lowkey they're bad for each other, but also somehow so right?, OC is such a people hater, I feel like she has mental health issues which are never addressed tbfh, she is quite the pessimist, unhealthy consumption of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes & weed (listen. i hate smoking and stand by that but it sadly fits their characters), Yoongi is kinda apathetic and cold, or is he??, IS HE???, implied violence and murder, corrupt cops & lawyers, policeman!Jungkook makes an appearance and he stole my heart tbfh :(, he is so cute that i almost sobbed, drugdealer!Hoseok makes an appearance too, there is also detective!Namjoon and smuggler!Taehyung because I love this vibe :); abuse of power, fuck Yoongi just fuck he is so ngngn, slightly protective & possessive!Yoongi, intoxicated sex, desperate!Yoongi, no foreplay, but she is not uncomfortable, choking (m.receiving), rough desperate sex, position change from sex against a sofa to missionary on said sofa, a lil bit of strength kink hihi, he cums too soon, dirty talk, tears :'), he is actually so emotional during the sex, the ending is so cheesy and cute <3, Spoiler: he is willing to change!! and he is a cutie actually, jsjsjsj sorry but i love yoongi a lot :(
Disclaimer: This is purely fiction and isn't like my usual stories. It does not portray how the boys actually are and it is not how I see them. This is a work of fiction with no correlation to real life. The type of relationships depicted in this story are far from how I normally portray my relationships and I do not advertise for such relationhips or staying in such relationships. This story is supposed to be twisted and dark & so are the relationships in it, as well as the characters. You have been warned. If you decide to continue reading, then it is out of your own free will.
a/n: now that the disclaimer is out of the way i can officially bark because woof woof fuckkcc anonie thank you so much for this idea. i had the worst and best time writing this story like nfnfnf her mental state was definitely very difficult to write, but their tension just got to me. i made the ending as cute and fluffy as possible just as you wanted hihi <3 also i love villian characters who would set the whole world on fire just to prove their dedication :) i hope this is what you imagined, because i kinda made it longer and with more plot than i planned to at first sjjsjs i couldn't be stopped jsjsj ALSO this is giving me the perfect opportunity to finally write a Kook request I got years ago ohoho
Yoongi collides with the wall, feeling the cold nuzzle of the gun press against his chin. He drops the keys and flowers he was carrying, lifting his hands in defeat.
“Careful, it’s just me”, he lulls.
“Get the fuck out of my house”, you spit, carrying murder in your eyes.
Three months prior
“So you’re breaking up with me?” he asks, gawking at you with widened eyes. He looks more surprised than he does hurt. Probably because it hasn’t actually sunk in yet.
“I am.”
“No, you’re not.” He laughs because he never takes anything seriously.
“Yes. I am.”
“Too bad, I won’t act like it.”
“Yeah, you will.”
He laughs, “you’ve had better jokes, but I still admire the commitment.”
“You see. That’s the problem with you. Everything’s a fucking joke to you.”
He is smiling. It reaches his eyes.
“Your job, your men. Me. Everything’s a fucking joke to you. If you would have taken Sukuna’s thread seriously, Soojin would still be alive. If you didn’t fucking insult Miss Mei, you wouldn’t have lost twenty thousand in drugs and you wouldn’t have to fucking kiss asses like a beggar.”
His smile doesn’t reach his eyes anymore.
“If you would have put any kind of effort into me, I wouldn’t be leaving now. You take everything as a joke, while in reality you are the biggest joke here.”
His smile falls. You stood up and that actually scared him.
“Wait baby, wait. Princess, we can talk about this”, he argues, closing the distance with his arms stretched open. “I’ll fix the issue with Miss Mei, I promise.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m done talking. Soojin died because of your recklessness.”
Yoongi touches your hands. He holds them, clutches them. You have never felt such a touch from him before. As if he actually loved you.
“What can I do? Tell me and I’ll do it”, he offers, caressing your knuckles.
This is what you craved for months. Affection. Attention. You were always a passing thought to him. Something to fuck and possess. Something low maintenance like all his other shit. His current touch almost makes you want to stay because for the briefest moment, your breaking heart wants to believe that he finally changed.
But you know better. He doesn’t take you seriously and if you stay, you will one day end up like Soojin. Metaphorically or not, you will end up dead because of him.
“There is nothing you can do. Sorry.”
You slip out of his touch.
“Baby”, Yoongi follows you with panicked eyes, trying to touch you again.
“Goodbye, Min Yoongi.”
“Please don’t leave me.”
You close the door and run, finally letting the tears escape.
You love him.
You always have and perhaps always will.
You don’t want to leave, but know that staying will kill you.
One week passes. You spent it holed up in your small, shitty apartment, crying your heart out. Yoongi was the best and worst thing that ever happened to you and you miss him. You hate that you miss him. Because he was way worse than he was good.
He was never abusive. He was a violent man to anyone but you. You, he always touched with utmost care. At you, he never screamed. But he was still not good. He was cold and apathetic at times, then terribly affectionate at others, only to become cold again. And you couldn’t take it anymore.
You wouldn’t have left your apartment today if your fridge hadn’t been empty. It wasn’t always empty, but sadly enough, groceries don’t magically appear. Not even for an outlaw such as yourself.
The city is busy. The smell of street food, smog and body odor poisons the air. The weather is hot these days and people started sweating more. You can’t stand people. You pull the mask tighter around your nose, hoping to shield the stench this way.
You greet the clerk when you enter the shop, lowering your mask. It smells of grocery store in here. Fresh bread, produce and clean floors. It’s a welcome change to the rancid outside.
You spent fourty minutes in the shop and pay with cash. You never pay with card because it can be traced. Someone like you can’t risk being found.
“See you”, you say your goodbyes and leave the store. You plan on coming back in three weeks. You can’t stand being outside often.
The door just about closed behind you and then someone jumps you. Three people to be more exact. Two hold your arms while one rips the bags out of your hands.
“Let go! Hey, you fuckers!” you fight them off instantly, surprised at how easily it is to do. Way too easy. They let go of you as quickly as they grabbed you. At first you think that nothing happened, until you notice your grocery bags in one of the guys’ hands. They stole your stuff!
“You motherfuckers! Get back here! They’re mine!”
They run away, flipping you off over their shoulders.
You sprint after them, but before you reach them, they jump onto a tuk tuk and drive off, finally showing you their faces. Those were some of Yoongi’s underlings.
“What the fuck?” You stumble back in disbelief. “Did they fucking steal my food? What the fuck’s happening?”
It takes you a while before you finally come to the conclusion that you have to buy everything they stole a second time. And you do. And nobody jumps you. And you go home, make yourself shitty dinner and drink a bottle of soju all by yourself. It isn’t a good night. It’s a shit night. But then. All your nights have been shit for years.
You met Yoongi four years ago. It correlates with when your shit nights began. Okay, you are being unfair. The first two years with him were paradise and your nights were wonderful. You were an aspiring lawyer, while he was in the midst of getting a promotion to superintendent. You supported each other’s dreams, motivated each other and celebrated when your goals were achieved. Then the truth spilled out. The man you knew to love turned out to be a lie. Why you never left, you do not know. He gave you the chance to leave, but you didn’t. You made yourself low maintenance to him and your nights became shit. He pretended to be a proper policeman by day while you pretended to be a proper lawyer and at night he became what he hunted by day while you tried to hide whatever evidence about him flooded into the offices. You hated it at first, then loved it, then lost your job because of it and became dependent on him and started to hate it again. Well, at least working for him. You liked everything else. Having to work in the system and seeing how corrupt even the most eligible politicians or CEOs truly are, made you realise that perhaps stealing from them isn’t as bad as it first sounded. You liked being on the dark side of the law because the bright side was just as twisted. You just simply started to hate that it means being close to Yoongi.
It took Soojin’s death to finally make you realise that staying with him will end in your death as well. And so you finally left.
You will start a new life, make up a new identity, move to a different country and forget about him. Maybe. Who knows. You haven’t decided yet.
A letter comes five days after the grocery store incident. It is stuffed into an unsealed envelope and clearly delivered by the person who wrote it. You open it, feeling shit instantly. Whoever wrote this letter is calling you the most hurtful of names, telling you personal stuff which truly hurts. You throw it away and go back inside, opening a bottle of soju. It wasn’t Yoongi’s handwriting, but somehow you still think that it is connected to him. You try not to let it get to you, but you still end up rotting away in your bed for the rest of the week only leaving it to piss, shit and eat.
The next week your packages are missing. You never get them back. The culprit is never found. You curse the sky, knowing that it was fruitless. Yet again, you think that it was connected to him. To Yoongi, the man you wanted to forget, but who keeps haunting you day by day.
The city at night is a dangerous place. If you don’t know where to walk, you could find yourself in a rather messy situation. Especially as a woman. You are glad that most women are clever enough to stay at home once darkness greets the streets. Most women don’t know how to defend themselves though. Properly and without the law in mind. You killed before. Once. It was self defence. Yoongi took care of the body, you never found out what happened to it. He stayed with you the night it happened, even let you cry in his arms. He was gone the next day and never spoke of it again.
You clutch the big knife tightly in your bag, scanning the streets constantly. It isn’t far anymore until you are home. Hopefully the heavy rain clouds stay dry until you get there. You aren’t in the mood to get wet. Not tonight. You would have never left if you hadn’t ran out of fucking cigarettes. The kiosk was closed, so the journey was useless. Thunder announces that the clouds aren’t your friends. Mere seconds later, it starts pouring.
“Fucking shit, I hate this city.”
Rain in this city is always dirty and never really cold. You take it as a bad sign. Rain shouldn’t be warm. Not always, not constantly. Something’s wrong with this city. Something is rotting slowly until one day it will consume everything in its wake. You hope to have left before it can wake up.
The way home is too long for the amount of dirty rain it pours. You find refuge under a shop sign. There are no rooftops or canopies in sight and the only thing close to a safe place was the stupid restaurant sign. Authentic Asian Beef Noodles, it reads in bright red letters. The place is stuffed with people and the smell of beef broth mixes with the dirty scent of rain. You grind your teeth. What a shitty situation you find yourself in. You prefer being outside though. You know that once inside, the restaurant would be hot and stink of digested booze and body odor. You take getting wet over breathing in people’s air.
Except that you don’t really stay wet for long. The distinct sound of rain hitting an umbrella meets your ears. You look up. Black. You look to the side at the person holding it. Yoongi. Your stomach twists, your heart skips a beat. He is wearing a suit tonight. Black with a black tie. His hair is slicked back. He used makeup to conceal the scar running all the way from his forehead over his eye and down half his cheek. This is his work outfit. His police chief outfit. Yes. He is a chief these days.
Your instincts tell you to leave without saying anything, but it’s been six weeks since the breakup and you still love him. You hate that you do, but can’t stop staring at his face. He has his brows raised in a nonchalant way as he inspects the heavy rain. He doesn’t grant you eye contact, but holds the umbrella in a way which lets you know that he came out here after seeing you. His left shoulder is getting wet, while you stay dry completely.
“What are you doing here?” you hear yourself ask him.
“Work dinner. I have to pay ‘cause I’m the boss and all that shit. They’re eating like greedy pigs”, he scoffs, “fucking assholes.”
“I see.”
“You?”
“Buying smokes.”
He finally looks at you, studying from head to toe.
“The kiosk was closed”, you answer his question about your cigarettes’ whereabouts before he can ask it.
“I thought you quit.”
“Some things happened which made me start again.”
“Mhm”, he hums and takes out a packet of cigarettes from the inside of his suit jacket. He lights himself one and puts the packet away again, leaving you to stare at the smoke he blows out through his nose.
He isn’t actually serious, is he? It is like he is mocking you. It is already bad enough that he sends his stupid goons to terrorise you, now he is mocking you as well? You hate that you still love him.
You stay like this for a while. You staring at him while he holds the umbrella for you and smokes. You don’t know why you stay. You hate that you love him. You hate it so much.
Yoongi takes a long drag of the cigarette and exhales the smoke in an almost sigh-like breath. He lifts the cigarette, holding it closer to you.
“What?” you sound disbelieved, scandalised even.
He doesn’t say anything. He just shows you the cigarette as his eyes follow the endless rain. You hate that you love him. You hate it so much. But you still take the cigarette and put your lips right where he had his’ moments before. But you still smoke it as if it was the most normal thing to do. Because it once was. You and he shared many smokes in the past. It was once the most sensual, erotic thing to do between you and him. Barely clothed, intoxicated minds and high on the other, you often shared a joint as you got each other off. Fuck, it was always so fucking orgasmic to be with him that way.
“Wanna grab a bite?” he offers, pointing at the restaurant behind him, “one more mouth to feed isn’t gonna ruin me.”
You are hungry. You haven’t had a proper meal in weeks. Instant ramen, frozen food and snacks is all your body has to run on. You have no energy to cook and with how shitty you eat, it is a vicious cycle. Shitty food gives little energy, you already have low energy. The motivation to properly cook grows lower and lower each day. You dread the day you have only enough energy left to open a package of chips and eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
“I’m not hungry.”
He glances at you. He knows that you are lying. Your eyes have greyed in starvation. He almost rips the cigarette out of your fingers and smokes it angrily, huffing out the smoke.
“I’m offering”, he hisses.
“And I’m declining. I can take care of myself”, you throw back and rip the cigarette from his grasp to smoke it angrily.
You may be starving, but you will be damned if you make yourself dependent on him again. You left him to finally prove to yourself that you can take care of yourself. You don’t need his help. Not anymore.
You take another deep drag, then hand the cigarette to him. He smokes it, glaring at you. You know that your stubbornness angers him.
“Tell your men to stop pestering me”, you say into the tense silence.
He looks over his shoulder at his police team. They are too drunk and caught in conversation to pay their boss any mind.
“They’re inside”, he says.
“You know I don’t mean them. Tell your other men to stop annoying me.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes. You do.” It is your turn to smoke. “It all started when they stole my groceries, but it’s been getting childish. My packages keep getting stolen, my internet cuts off, I find letters in my mail. Letters saying awful things about me. It’s getting ridiculous. Tell your men to stop terrorising me.”
“Stolen packages?” He takes the cigarette from you, brushing his fingers against yours as he does. The touch feels like the sweetest poison on your skin. “This doesn’t sound like my problem to solve. Go to the police.”
“Are you serious?”
He inhales, exhales the smoke into your face. You should be disgusted by it, but almost huff it in like an addict. Yoongi watches your lids lower and your chest raise in a greedy breath, finding it hard not to stare at your lips as he hands you the cigarette. You smoke it. His eyes are still on your lips, glued to the shape of them as his throat runs dry.
“Very serious”, he rasps.
“You are the police”, you throw back in disbelief, exhaling the smoke into his face that way.
“Mhm yeah, I guess I am.” He takes the cigarette, smoking it with half lidded eyes. He exhales, handing you the cigarette. “When are you going to come home again?” he asks, looking back at the rain.
You almost choke on the smoke, exhaling it in a cough. Yoongi glances at you from the corner of his eyes.
“Your farce is getting ridiculous”, he says coldly.
“My farce?”
This break up wasn’t the first break up you and he went through. You left many times before, always thinking that you were finally strong enough to forget him only to come crawling back again. You don’t blame him for doubting that this time will be different, but you still can’t stop yourself from getting angry.
“Did you even hear what I said?”
“I did. Go to the police. I have nothing to do with it.”
You drop the half-finished cigarette. It dies in the puddle on the ground.
“I was smoking this”, he says dryly, “besides, don’t litter.”
“Pick it up yourself if you care so much about these dirty ass streets”, you spit and turn to leave. You take getting wet over being with him any longer.
Yoongi watches you leave, shakes his head in disbelief and bends down to pick up the cigarette. He won’t run after you because you will come crawling back eventually. You always do.
“Sir?”
He turns his head. One of his officers. He is young and with sparkles of big dreams in his eyes. Yoongi pities him. This city is going to chew him up until there is nothing left of him. He had the same dreams once and knows what the viper nest, which is the justice system, is going to do to him.
“What do you want?” he asks him dryly, rolling the wet cigarette between his fingers.
“Who did you talk to right now?”
“Just someone important to me.”
“Shouldn’t we escort her home? It’s raining and there could be criminals on the streets. It’s too dangerous for a woman to be alone.”
“She’ll get home safely.”
“Are you sure, Sir? I stayed sober for cases like these. I could get the car right away.”
“You’re sober?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“But it’s a work dinner. You’ve been off work for hours.”
The young officer salutes, “I know, Sir but a policeman shouldn’t slack, Sir.”
Yoongi feels deep pity for the young man. He is so motivated, so proper and full of good spirit. Waking up is going to hurt like a bitch for him.
He pats him on the shoulder.
“You’re a good person, Jeon”, he says and swerves past him to get back inside.
The young officer follows him with pride glimmering in his innocent eyes. Yes, waking up is going to hurt like a bitch for him.
Yoongi wasn’t always living two lives. He was like his young officer once. Full of dreams and motivation. He dreamed of using his powers to do good, to help those who needed it most and then he woke up. He watched politicians and men in power ruin, rape and kill the powerless without ever getting punished for it. He felt helpless. If even someone in his position can’t change the world, then who will? His criminal work was honourable once. He slipped evidence money under the table to hand out to the powerless, he let proof disappear for people doing crimes out of desperation. One time he was supposed to put a starving mother behind bars because she stole diapers for her babies. Yoongi couldn’t do it and so he disobeyed the law for these kinds of people.
But then his criminal work became less about the powerless and more about him. Making money the illegal way was easy and it is fucking addicting. Especially when he could make sure that evidence about him never reached the higher ups. Yoongi fucking loved the sudden power he possessed and he was too blinded by it to see that he became exactly what drove him to criminality in the first place.
Yoongi tells his officer to check up on your place that night. The young officer rings the doorbell like he was told to do.
You open it, swaying from intoxication as you do. The stench of digested booze wafts off you. But you somehow seem to sober up when you see the police badges on his shirt.
“You’ve got the wrong person”, you tell him, trying to morph your face into an expression of sobriety.
“Don’t worry, Miss. I came here to check on you.”
“Check on me?”
“Yes, Miss.” He salutes you. “I have orders from my captain to make sure that you arrived home safely and that you received this”, he says with an innocent smile on his lips, presenting a plastic bag to you.
Authentic Asian Beef Noodles, it reads in red letters and inside, three big takeout containers of food are waiting to be eaten.
Everything clicks into place. This is one of Yoongi’s employees. Another young, hopeful spirit which will be crushed in the system. You pity the young officer. You had the same innocent sparkle in your eyes once.
Hesitantly, you accept the takeout food.
“Thanks”, you mumble.
“Any time, Miss.” He studies you for a moment. “Are you…are you okay, Miss?”
You bite back tears. His empathy is going to kill him one day. But it feels so good to receive. You haven’t been asked this question in so long.
You shake your head. He straightens up in worry.
“Should I call help for you, Miss?”
You know what he indicates.
“Thank you, no. I’m just going through some shit. Sorry, I’m being sappy tonight.”
“You don’t have to go through it alone, Miss.”
“I know. I’m just… I’m seriously alright, I won’t do anything stupid. You don’t have to worry, officer.”
“Yes, well I still see it as my duty to stay because you seem sad to me”, he says and tries to go inside your apartment. He still has a lot to learn. You know from his eyes that he has no bad intentions and that he truly wants to help, but you know how the city will treat such deeds. One day he will try to help the wrong person and end up with attempted sexual assault charges. And it will fucking destroy him because people like him only see the good in the world and can’t imagine that others would want to hurt people.
You stop him with a guiding hand on his chest.
“That isn’t necessary, really. My packages keep getting stolen and I guess it’s been annoying me.”
He pulls out a pen paper instantly, stepping closer to you without noticing, “your packages? Have you seen anyone suspicious? How many packages have gone missing? When did it start?”
“No, I… Thank you for your concern and the food, but I will get through the night safely.”
He steps back, cheeks reddened in embarrassment.
“Forgive me, I don’t know why I did that. My captain said that you were important to him and that I should make sure that you are well, so I wanted to do a good job at it.” He bows at you deeply. “Please forgive me, Miss.”
“He said that?” you whisper.
He nods his head, “yes, Miss.”
“Oh. Uhm. ” You clear your throat. “Thank you, I, uhm, tell him that I’m good.”
“I will, Miss. Here, my card. You can always call me when you need something” he hesitates, “or when you just need someone to talk to.”
“Thank you. This is so kind.”
“You are never alone, Miss.”
“Thank you”, you say, bowing at him. He is so kind. God, you want to grab him and tell him to run before it’s too late.
He bows as well, “good night, Miss.”
“Good night.”
You watch him leave. He gives you one last look out of the police car and a kind wave, then drives off.
You close the door with a curse. This just sobered you up. The young policeman’s kindness just sobered you up. You check his name on the card he handed you. Jeon Jungkook. Why someone like him? He never should have found his way into this field of work.
You look at the takeout food next, feeling your stomach twist. You are important to Yoongi. Holy fuck.
It’s been eight weeks since you left him. You don’t feel better. The cigarette you shared was two weeks ago and yet you still feel as if it was sticking to your lungs. Each time you breathe out, you swear you can taste him. It almost suffocates you and keeps you from relaxing. So you leave your depressing place for a walk to the kiosk. You read somewhere that walks are good for one’s mental health. You can’t agree. Walks force you to be outside where people are loud and fucking stink.
The vendor must be fucking with you. The day is bright, but the kiosk is closed again. You bang your fist against the closed door, cursing loudly. You want your fucking smokes is that too much to ask? This city is fucking shit.
You’ll just call someone who will always help. You saved him as Jay. His real name is Hoseok. You don’t say his real name in public. He doesn’t say yours. Yoongi sometimes called him his best friend, but what is such a title out of the mouth of the most apathetic man you know? You were his girlfriend too and look at where this has gotten you, living as an outlaw in the shit and dirt of this city.
Like always, Hoseok lets the phone ring four times then he picks up.
“Flames are hot”, he says.
“And the arsonist works hard”, you answer him.
“Hyacinth, it’s good to hear your voice”, there is finally a smile in his voice now that you answered the code correctly.
“The same goes for you, Jay.”
“What’s up? I haven’t heard from you in ages.”
“Nothing much. I’m out of smokes.”
“The corner in twenty?”
“Yeah.”
You and he end the call at the same time. Twenty minutes later you meet. He wears black overalls and smudged eyeliner. He says it keeps the char easier to hide. Like always, he greets you with a quick hug.
“What do you got?” you ask him.
“Whatever you want.” He opens his bag. “I’ve got cigarettes, but something stronger too”, he says, scurrying around the contents of the bag with his fingers. He always has burn marks on them, but somehow they are never dirty.
“What do fifty bucks buy?”
“For you? Two packs of cigarettes and two joints. That’s a steal.”
“Fuck dude, you’re getting expensive.”
“Yeah well, a man’s gotta eat.”
“Fine, I’ll take it.”
You and he exchange goods. He makes small talk.
“But why are you here with me? Did Suga run out of goods?”
Suga is Yoongi’s codename in public. The sound of it almost brings bile into your throat. You did such a good job in forgetting him and now the memory of him is as fresh as a new day. At least you like to pretend that you are doing a good job at forgetting him. Your heart knows better though.
“We, uhm…”
Hoseok exhales sharply, “again?”
You nod your head.
“When?”
“More than two months ago.”
“Damn, that’s long.”
“Yeah, I’m serious about it.”
He cocks his brow up.
“I am”, you insist just a little snappishly.
“Alright”, he closes his bag, “I gotta go now.”
“Already?”
He looks around nervously. Almost as if he didn’t want to be seen with you.
“Yup. Use the stuff wisely, I won’t have new stuff for a while.”
“Seriously?”
He nods his head and salutes you nonchalantly.
“See you around.”
“See…you?”
He turns his back to you and walks off quickly, soon disappearing into the busy crowd. Is this your fate? Even the people closest to you avoid you now that you aren’t Yoongi’s anymore? Were you truly only worth something as his little thing? You ball your hands into fists, bending the joints this way. You have to leave this fucking place. There is actually nothing holding you here anymore.
That night the phone terror starts. Numbers keep calling you over and over and over again. You pick up the first time, only to have to listen to the most hurtful things another human has ever said to you. The voice wasn’t Yoongi’s, but you still blame him. Now that you aren’t his thing anymore, you became free food to whoever had been waiting to make your life a living hell. You turn off your phone after an hour and go to sleep with the help of Hoseok’s joints.
The doorbell wakes you the next morning. You consider not answering because it’s probably just one of his goons wanting to terrorise you. But whoever is ringing the doorbell is stubborn, forcing you out of your bedroom. You look through the door cam first.
That young officer. He is in full uniform.
You open the door hesitantly.
“Good morning”, he greets you with a wave and a smile.
“Good morning”, you murmur. Your mouth is as dry as a fucking desert. You are also so hungry that you could throw up in his face right now.
“How are you feeling, Miss?”
“Good.”
“That’s good to hear.” He says and shows you a package which he kept hidden behind his back all this time. He smiles brightly and proudly. “Tada!”
“What’s that?”
“I caught the package thief, Miss.”
“Are you serious?” you gasp and your eyes instinctively drift to the car you have noticed parked outside your unit for days. The door is opened and someone is sitting in the backseat. He looked cuffed to the seat. You glance at the young officer and the shiteating, proud grin he is sporting. He has been watching you? Did Yoongi tell him to?
“Wait. You’re actually serious.”
“Very serious. For you, Miss”, he says and shoves the package into your face.
“Uhm, uh. Thanks”, you accept it, putting it under your arm. “Have you been watching me?”
“Did you notice the car? Sorry, I thought that I was better hidden. I’m still new to all of this. But I caught the thief, heh.” He points at himself with his thumbs. “That’s my first real arrest.”
He manages to drag an honest smile to your lips. He is kind of adorable in a way.
“That’s cool. Thank you for taking care of it. Now I’ve got nothing to worry about anymore.”
He grins and nods his head, studying your features afterwards. He opens his mouth.
“Jeon are you there? Over”, his walkie talkie interrupts whatever he wanted to ask you. He takes it off his chest harness.
“I’m here, Kim Sir. Over.”
“Come to the precinct. We need reinforcements. Over.”
“Coming right away, Sir. I caught a thief right now, Sir. Over.”
A pause where the higher officer is definitely baffled by his confession.
“Good job, Jeon. Over.”
The young officer giggles before he speaks again, doing so as seriously as possible.
“Thank you, Kim Sir. I am taking the criminal to the precinct. Over.”
“Understood. Over.”
He puts the walkie talkie back on its harness and gives you a sorry smile.
“That was my boss. My other boss, not your friend who is the boss of this boss. Anyways. I have to go now, duty calls. Are you going to be okay, Miss?”
“I am. Thank you for your kindness.”
“Anytime, Miss. Uhm, have a good day”, he says and leaves with a wave of his hand. He waves again as he drives off. You retort it, staring at his car until it disappears behind a corner. You sigh deeply. He is so nice. Why someone like him? Why does this life always find people like him?
It’s been ten weeks since you left him. You read somewhere that walks are good for your mental health. You still can’t agree. Walks force you to be outside where people are still loud and still fucking stink. But it’s better than staying in your apartment. You’ve got new neighbours since Monday. They keep fucking like actual animals. They fucked when you left your place tonight. You were this close to kicking their door in and slaughtering them like pigs. You opted for a walk in the end.
You walk for a while then sit down by an empty bench next to the river. It is quiet. Nobody is really here. At least nobody important. A couple, how disgusting. A late night jogger, clearly a man. A homeless person, who uses another bench as their bed. You hate looking at homeless people because you feel helpless seeing them. You stopped being on the bright side of the law because of people like them. You thought that maybe if you stole from the corrupt men in power often enough, you would be able to help the ones who truly needed it. But you never managed to actually achieve anything. The homelessness in the city grows, while the pockets of the politicians become fatter and fatter in wealth. You fucking hate this city. It is rotten to the core.
“Look who we have here. If that isn’t our pretty little Hyacinth.”
You aren’t quick enough to get up to leave and then you already have two men throwing their arms over your shoulders while a third is grabbing the back of your head from behind. You try to reach for your knife but can’t. Their grip on you is too good.
“What are you doing here all alone?”
Their voices are familiar and one look at them confirms your suspicions. It’s them. The same three underlings who stole your groceries months ago.
“Leave me alone”, you tell them.
“Why should we? You are all alone. If the boss knew we’re leaving you alone, he’d grow angry.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Now, now don’t be like that. You’re just a girl and there are many dangerous men out there.”
You look to your side. One of them is licking their lips like a hungry animal.
“Yeah? And you’re being fucking inappropriate. Leave me alone”, you spit, shaking off their arms.
They let you. Just as they let you stand up and take your bag.
“Goodnight”, you tell them and leave. Quickly. You walk a good hundred feet until you finally dare to look over your shoulder only to realise in horror that they are following you. Quickly.
You can defend yourself. You know how to kill, but you also know when you are outnumbered. And three bigger men against a woman is sadly never going to end well for the woman. You hate this city and you hate this life. You know that their words were nothing but provocation. They know you aren’t with Yoongi anymore, that you aren’t under his protection anymore and that in some weird way, you sullied his honour. You also know how people who bring dishonour to the gangs of this city are punished. The men are murdered and the women, well, they are murdered too but not before being sullied themselves. You hate this city and you hate this life. This life which is going to fucking end for you soon.
You dare to look over your shoulder one more time. They are so close that you can see the hunger in their eyes. No. Nononononono. It can’t end like this. You were supposed to leave this city, start a new life, forget about Yoongi. You are not going to die here in this dirty, shitty park far away from your dream.
Thump.
You bounce back from the impact, letting out a blood curling scream. It was instinct. Just as it is instinct of the person you ran into to grasp you by your arms and pull you closer again.
“Let me go! Help! Help me!”
“Quiet”, the person hisses and shakes you. This voice sounded different. Familiar in an almost intimate way.
You dare to shift your eyes to them.
Yoongi.
“I, I, I”, you stutter, feeling delirious in both fear and shock. You grab his shirt, twisting it to get closer to him. The act is intimate and out-of-place but you are too frightened to think clearly.
Yoongi brushes over the state of your glassy eyes to look over your shoulder. There are three men suddenly scurrying away, using the darkness to hide. He managed to get their faces.
He looks back at you. Your eyes meet. A little bit of clarity returns to you. What are you doing? Your fingers soften around his shirt.
“I don’t…”
“Come on, we’re going home”, he say sternly and puts an arm around your waist, dragging you with him like this.
You follow him all the way to his car. You even let him sit you down on the passenger seat and you even stay seated when he rounds the car to get to the driver side. You think that you are in shock because you don’t protest when he starts the car, nor when he drives off. You simply stare outside with your knees turned to him because your body acts against your consciousness. The city passes you by in flashes of neon colours. His car smells like his cologne and leather. He has no music playing.
Yoongi glances at your face. You have your head against the window, squeezing your hands between your thighs. The neon lights illuminate your features each time he passes by another light source. He can see that you are trying not to shake.
He takes a deep breath, shifting his eyes to the road. He has to grip the steering wheel, otherwise his hands would shake in anger.
“Should we get dinner?”
His voice rips you from whatever trance you were in. You sit up straight, looking at him. He is gripping the steering wheel to the point his knuckles pale. His long hair is hanging into his face tonight. A turquoise varsity jacket adorns him. His scar wasn’t hidden behind concealer. He wasn’t working his day job today. What was he doing at the park? Why was he there?
“Take me home”, you order him.
“I am.”
“No. Home. Not your place.”
“My place is your home”, he gets out through gritted teeth.
“No, it isn’t. Not anymore.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Did you see what they were doing to me?”
“No.”
You are lost for words for a moment. The tears come afterwards.
“Stop the car.”
Yoongi looks at you because your voice was shaking. He holds his breath at the sight of your tears.
“What?” he makes sure.
“Stop. The. Car. Now.”
He laughs and shakes his head.
You pull the knife out on him. He swerves to the side on instinct, fixing the mistake so vigorously, you and he shake in the small space. You don’t let it affect you, holding the knife against his skin.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he hisses.
“Stop the fucking car or I’ll kill us both”, you spit, holding the knife against his throat.
“Fuck”, he growls and hits the steering wheel. The car rolls to a stop.
“Get out”, you threaten.
“I am. Fuck.”
He follows your orders because you have his life at blade’s end. He still slams the door closed. You leave the car instantly.
“What the fuck were you thinking? You could have killed us both” he tries to scold you, but you silence him.
“I’m talking now”, you roar.
Yoongi closes his mouth because he has never heard you like this before.
“You are such an asshole! Each day I regret the moment I met you! You are the worst thing that ever happened to me!”
Yoongi gulps.
“I had a life before you. I had dreams and ambitions and, and goals and…a chance. I could have had a good life. I was supposed to use my degree to help people but you ruined everything for me.”
He rounds the car in big steps, coming so close to you that you smell his breath. It smells like chewing gum.
“You could have achieved something? What exactly did you achieve as a lawyer? Mhm, what did you achieve? This city is fucked.”
“Yes, because you fucked it!” you hit his chest. He doesn’t budge, but also doesn’t stop you. “You fucked it and you fucked me and I hate you for it!”
“Don’t blame me for your decisions. I gave you a chance to leave me back then. You were the one who stayed.”
You inch closer until your lips are almost touching. Yoongi exhales shakily, placing his hand on your hip.
“And I will regret this decision till the day I die”, you whisper, breaking the closeness.
You slip out of his hold. He follows you in a small stumble and a trembling gasp.
“I never want to see you again. Are we clear?” you hiss at him.
“Don’t be fucking ridiculous, you don’t want this”, he hisses back at you.
“You’re wrong, I don’t want you. I thought I still did, but I don’t. You don’t care about me, it’s finally so fucking obvious to me. You don’t fucking care.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“They are terrorising me, Yoongi!” You finally scream. “I wake up to people ringing my doorbell in the middle of the night, I have to keep my phone turned off because the phone calls don’t stop. I keep getting my stuff stolen and, and I thought I was going to be raped tonight! They are terrorising me and you called it not your problem!”
“No, you-”
“I’ve been living in constant fear, our friends don’t even look at me anymore, I haven’t eaten in days and I can’t-”, you stop yourself. He doesn’t even deserve your anger anymore. “-you know what? Fuck this and fuck you. I’m leaving.”
You turn your back to him and leave.
He says your name and takes your hand. He pulls, tries to turn you to him. But you rip yourself free again.
“Don’t go”, he says.
You don’t listen.
“I’m ordering you to stay”, he sounds desperate, yelling your name, “I am ordering you!”
He can yell as much as he wants to. You don’t listen to him anymore. The subway station isn’t far. You will make an exception and take it tonight. Even if you hate it. It stinks. Just like the rest of this shitty city.
You are going to leave. Once you are home, you are going to start packing and then you are going to leave. You will call V. You don’t know his real name, but he can change your identity as quickly as others change their socks. You will call V and tell him to have your passport ready the day after tomorrow. You will pay him with the money you have under your pillow and then leave for somewhere clean. Maybe somewhere with lots of mountains. You always heard that the air at these places is breathable.
You call V the same night. He tells you that two days is too short and to wait another week. So you wait. Your bags have been packed. You live out of them in your own place. You don’t leave it. You are scared. With how little Yoongi cared about your situation, you doubt that he told his men to stop. You are scared that if you left again, they would finally go through with what they couldn’t finish back then.
The doorbell rings during a rainy, dark night. You flinch awake to the point where you feel sick to the stomach. The lights are turned on instantly eventhough you know not to do that in such a situation. You can’t think clearly. You just want this to be over. All of it.
You run to the front door because you suddenly feared that it was unlocked. It isn’t, but you can watch someone push an envelope under your door. The shadow blocking the light outside leaves the moment the letter is inside your apartment.
You don’t want to open it at first, staring at it as if someone had planted a bomb in your apartment. Fuck it, if that is how you die then so be it, you think in the end and bend down to pick it up. It feels different in your fingers. Sophisticated. Intimate. The envelope is glued closed as if someone licked the glue stripe and the faint smell of well-known cologne lingers on the paper. You open it with shaky fingers.
A letter. It is heavy and folded once. You open it, gasping when three photographs fall out of it and onto the ground. You don’t know what is on them because they landed on their face side. So you read the letter first.
“It has always been mine as well.”
Written in black ink and a familiar handwriting. This is Yoongi’s writing.
With even shakier hands, you pick up the pictures. You feel sick for a moment, gawking at the cruel pictures with your hand thrown over your mouth. The three men who terrorised you. Their mutilated corpses look back at you. He tortured them to death.
You rip the door open, stumbling onto the balcony. You look down at what tripped you. Two bags of your favourite takeout food and a six pack of water. Both clearly fresh. So it was him. Yoongi must be here somewhere. You look into the distance. The night is loud and blurry in a thunderstorm. The streets are empty. The ghost of your past is gone again. You squint your eyes. A person.
“Yoongi!” you call out, unable to realise that you are smiling and waving your hand.
The person moves. Oh. It was just the shadow of a tree. For just a moment you had hoped that the dark shape was him waiting for you. It was just a tree…and you were happy that if could have been Yoongi. The realisation hurts.
“Fuck”, you press out, going back inside. The lump in your throat makes it hard to breathe. You stumble back to bed, halting for a moment when you pass your suitcases.
It has always been mine as well. His words repeat themselves in your head. All this time, you thought that he didn’t care. All this time, you thought that your terror left him cold. Your eyes drift over the empty takeout boxes from the noodle place. You still haven’t cleaned them up. He made sure that you were properly fed for days back then. A glance at the new stuff he got tonight. He is still making sure that you are. Your eyes drift over the package next. He made sure that they stopped getting stolen. You look at the pictures in your hands. He made sure that they would never hurt you again. All this time, you were so blinded by your own anger that you missed how he had always looked out for you. You missed his way of showing you that you were important to him.
It has always been his problem as well.
Something inside you breaks and you scream. You don’t know what you scream for, but you scream. It hurts so much. It hurts so much because you will still leave. He will hurt you again if you stay. All his efforts healed your heart and it hurts so much because you will still leave. You were meant to stay broken hearted. Leaving would have been so easy this way. Now it hurts like a bitch. But you can’t sway. You have to leave this place. It will chew up what little is left of you until you truly cease to exist.
V comes to your place the next day. He rings your doorbell. It wakes you from the uncomfortable sofa you fell asleep on last night. You groan as you sit up and you barely want to open your eyes as you stumble to the door.
You open it without checking the camera first.
“Took you long en- you?”
Jungkook, the young officer, greets you with a smile.
“I swear I’m not stalking you.”
You have a headache today, so it is difficult not to snap at him. He is also not the person you wanted in front of your door today.
“I’m starting to doubt that.”
He laughs, “it’s not that. I talked to my boss. Your friend, the boss of the other boss. Sorry, anyways. I need you to come to the precinct with me.”
“What? Why?”
“Okay so, this is actually so cool and I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but you’re my boss’ friend so I guess it’s okay”, he begins with sparkling eyes, “turns out that the package thief is actually a serial thief and you aren’t the first one he stole from. Isn’t that cool? It’s like in those movies. Those cool cop movies.”
“Really? He stole from more people?” You highly doubt that.
“Yeah”, he laughs as he answers you, nodding his head excitedly, “now we’re calling in everyone who he stole from so we can take their statements. My boss says that we can’t keep the thief locked up for long otherwise.”
You know that this wasn’t really how the law works. After all, you were once a lawyer who was fucking good at her job. Is Yoongi trying to drag you back to him? First he tries to change your mind by killing your bullies and now he is trying to do the final blow by abusing his power as police chief? You check the time. Couldn’t the young officer have come later? You could have had your passport already and be far, far away from this place.
“Can I just give it to you here?” you ask him.
“Mhm”, he tilts his head to the side, “no, I don’t think that it works like this. I’m sorry, Miss. The captain said that it’s important that all the victims come into the precinct.”
You have to give Yoongi that. He is real clever about it. That means however that you can’t escape this situation. Any more resistance from you would make you suspicious.
You give up with a sigh. “Can I just change into something different?”
“Of course, Miss.”
The young officer lets you sit in the passenger seat. He is so new at all of this. With such naivety he tells you his entire life story. That he was from the countryside and that his dream has always been to be a policeman in the city. That he studied hard for years and that he completed his enlistment with honour just so he could be a proper officer. He sounds so proud of himself that each second with him makes you hate his presence more and more. He is so fucking stupid and it angers you. Why would he throw away his life like that? Why someone like him?
You are led to one of the precinct’s interrogation rooms and are told to wait there. The table is decked with different foods.
“What’s all that?” you ask Jungkook.
“Breakfast, Miss.”
“Did your captain tell you to do that?”
“He said that wanted to make sure you get your breakfast because we called you in so early. The captain really cares for the citizens.”
You stifle a scoff. Sure he does.
“Mhm, I see.”
“Either way, it won’t take long”, the young officer bids his goodbyes and leaves you in the interrogation room.
His words were a lie. You wait and wait and wait, but nothing happens. There are no clocks in this godforsaken room, but you still know that it has to be hours. You didn’t want to eat the breakfast at first, glaring at the two-way mirror because in your mind, Yoongi was behind it, watching you and making sure that you ate. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction at first, but had to in the end. The body begins working against one’s will when it is starving and the breakfast looked way too good. You eat all of it, then glare at the mirror again. You are still left alone and more time passes. It is as if they are trying to wear you down, as if you were the criminal in this situation. Granted, you are a criminal, but only Yoongi knows that and right now you are a poor civilian having done nothing wrong. You know that it’s Yoongi’s doing. That he somehow wants to terrorise you.
So when the door finally opens and he walks into the room, you almost throw the empty bowl at his head.
“Forgive the wait, Miss but something came up”, he says nonchalantly, flicking through some papers.
His second in command Kim Namjoon and the young officer Jeon Jungkook are behind him, which is why he is putting up this act. You grind your teeth.
“I already started to wonder if I’m in danger here”, you say way too sweetly.
“That depends on how you are going to answer our questions”, he says and sits down on the chair in front of you.
Jungkook stays by the door while Kim Namjoon stands a little to your side.
You look around yourself. He is trying to intimidate you.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I thought that I’m here to give my statement because of my stolen packages.”
Yoongi glances up from the papers. This is the first time your eyes meet after your fight and he killed your bullies. If only the others in this room would know how much blood he has on his hands and to which length he is willing to go to protect you. There were times where you would have dragged him over the table and kissed him senseless, but not anymore. You are stronger than your urges, even if it hurts your heart. You can’t give in again. If you do, he will take you for granted again. You won’t be happy with him. You finally have to fucking understand that.
“You’re right. You are here because of that”, he says dryly.
“Good. It started on May sixteen. I came home at around seven ten and noticed that my packages were missing. Two were stolen back then, but in total he stole eight packages”, you say and proceed to tell him the exact dates with the time as well as what was stolen.
“You seem to know how such hearings work”, he says after he wrote down what you said.
“I had a few hours to practice what I was going to say”, you say with a poisonous smile.
One Yoongi retorts with just as much poison and a deep hum.
“Apologies again.”
“Don’t worry, I know how hard the police works at keeping this honourable city safe.”
He tongues his cheek. You give him a victorious smirk. This cut. Good. He takes a deep breath and releases it through his nose, reaching into his suit pocket to pull out a cigarette. He gets as far as to put it to his lips and then Kim Namjoon already speaks up.
“Captain. Smoking is prohibited in this building.”
“Fuck”, Yoongi presses out and takes the cigarette between two fingers to tap it against the table instead.
“Smoking is bad for you either way”, you say.
He tongues his cheek again. You know that he wants to curse at you right now, but can’t. He has to put up a friendly act.
“I know, can’t shake the habit”, he says and studies your face, “so what now?”
“Sir?” Kim Namjoon is rightfully confused. Yoongi slipped up.
“I don’t know, I was never in such a place before. Do you still need to take my information?” you act oblivious.
“We already have everything.”
“Great. Then I can go?” you ask, fluttering your lashes innocently.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Sir?” “What? Why?”
Yoongi shifts in his chair until he manspreads like an idiot. He crosses his arms in front of his chest.
“What are you going to do now?” he asks you.
“Uhm…is this still part of my hearing?” you ask, glancing at Kim Namjoon.
“No of course not, Miss. Please, follow me.”
“Sit. Down.”
The room is silent for a moment. You glare at Yoongi while Namjoon and Jungkook gawk in complete confusion. Their captain acts out of character. There is no reason to keep the innocent lady here any longer. This isn’t like him at all. He has been fidgeting all day, barely drank his coffee, went for far too many smoke breaks and now this. The officers have no explanation for their captain’s sudden behaviour.
“What is the reason for this?” you ask him.
“Just safety precautions. We wouldn’t want our honest citizen to get into danger”, he says coldly, “now answer my question. What are your plans now, Miss?”
“I will go home.”
“Where is that home?”
“Sir, I don’t know if that is necessary.”
“Shut up, Kim.”
Namjoon gulps, exchanging a confused look with Jeon Jungkook. This is really not like their captain.
Yoongi straightens up and leans forward so he is closer to you.
“Where is that home, Miss?”
You lower your eyes in anger.
“I don’t know yet, I’m planning to leave this city.”
“What?” his voice shook as he spoke. His fingers close and break the cigarette that way. His eyes almost bore holes into yours from how deeply he stares into them.
“This city’s become too depressing for me. I plan on leaving it for good.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do. There is nothing holding me here anymore.”
“Yes, there is.”
“No, there really isn’t. I will leave.”
Bang!
You flinched back. Namjoon and Jungkook tense up as well.
Yoongi slammed his hand on the table, jumping to his feet.
“No the fuck you won’t!” he yells.
“Sir? What are you doing?!”
“Excuse me? It’s my right as an honest citizen to move”, you act oblivious as well.
“Keep her here”, he talks to Jungkook, pointing at him, “lock her up and keep her here.”
“Under what pretence, Sir?” the young officer asks with widened eyes.
“I, I, I don’t know. Refusal to, to, to cooperate or some shit like that”, Yoongi never stutters and he never paces, but he is currently doing both of those things.
“Sir…is…this legal?” Jungkook asks shyly.
Yoongi is by Jungkook’s side within a few steps, grabbing him by the collar.
“Do as you are told, Jeon! Unless you want to lose this job!” Yoongi growls, making Jungkook whimper with fear.
“Captain Min, you are stepping out of place”, Kim Namjoon speaks up, dragging him away from Jungkook, “and get off this poor officer’s neck. He is just doing his job.”
Yoongi whips around, now targeting his anger at Namjoon.
“If he was doing his fucking job, he would lock her up”, he hisses, pointing at you.
“I need you to step out for a moment, Captain”, Namjoon says and gestures Jungkook to open the door. The young officer obeys, holding it open as Namjoon shoves a protesting Yoongi out of the room. He closes the door again, muting the vivid fighting Yoongi was doing with Namjoon outside.
He meets your eyes, smiling awkwardly.
“Please forgive the Captain, Miss. He is very concerned about his citizens’ safety.” He is a terrible liar, but you don’t blame him. If you were in his situation, you would have no idea how to explain such a situation to a supposed innocent citizen either.
“Don’t worry. I, I’m just wondering if maybe I can finally leave? I’m sorry, this just really scared me and I just want to lie down at home now”, you act shaken up, looking at the young officer with pleading eyes.
“Of course, Miss. Our honest apologies again, Miss. Please follow me”, he says and leads you out of the room.
Yoongi and Namjoon are still arguing, but stop when they see you come out. You lock eyes with Yoongi for the briefest of moments.
He closes the distance and grabs your wrist, dragging you with him with such vigour that nobody truly gets time to act. Not even you know what was happening to you until you find yourself in his office with the door slammed shut.
“What are you doing?” you gasp.
“Shut the fuck up, you’re not the one asking this question right now!”
“Yoongi, lower your voice. This isn’t the place for screams.”
He steps closer to you, pointing at your face in warning.
“I have every fucking right to scream right now and you know that”, he presses out through gritted teeth.
“Why? Because I finally don’t need you anymore?”
“You can’t move. What the fuck are you thinking?”
“I’m-”
‘I'm not done”, he interrupts you, “I killed them for you. I did it. Just for you. Because your safety matters to me. I care.” He hits his own chest. “I showed you that I care and you’re gonna leave?”
You hate that you love him, but not for the usual reasons. You hate it because it hurts. You are going to leave despite not wanting to. You love him, perhaps you always will but you are also going to leave.
You nod your head.
Yoongi exhales shakily, taking a stumbling step back. He stares at you as if you were the ghost whose haunting hurts him the most. He huffs out air, rubs his hand over his mouth, then runs it through his hair and down the side of his neck.
“I’ll kill the thief”, he says in the end.
“What?”
“I'll make it seem like suicide. He’ll look like a pisser who couldn’t take prison and killed himself.”
“Are you out of your mind? He’s just a thief.”
“Well, what more do you need?!” he screams
“Nothing! I don’t need anything from you!”
“Why not? I can give you whatever you want!”
“Look at you. Now that you finally realised, I’m actually serious about the breakup, you wanna act like you care.”
“I care”, his voice broke, but you are both too angry to acknowledge it, “i-i-if I knew that you- I just-” He breathes in, breathes out, rubs his mouth, then his neck. “It can’t end like this. It can’t.”
“It can. I’m done begging you for everything.”
Yoongi steps closer.
“I can-”
“Sir? What is the meaning of this?”
Kim Namjoon and Jeon Jungkook are in the office. The rest of the precinct gawks at you and Yoongi through the doorway. The latter lifts his hands and steps back. His fingers are shaking.
“The captain just voiced his worries for my move. Don’t worry about it, Kim Sir”, you lie and turn to leave, “may I finally leave?”
Namjoon tells Jungkook to handle it with a nod of his head. The young officer points at the open door.
“Please after you, Miss.”
Yoongi says your name.
You look at him over your shoulder, despite knowing you shouldn’t. He takes a step closer, lifting his brows in pleading. Don’t give in. Don’t give in. Don’t give in. You ball your hands to fists and turn your back to him.
Yoongi tries your name again, hoping for another look. One which doesn’t come.
“Come back”, he tries, but gets stopped by Namjoon.
You can hear them talk as you leave.
“What the fuck’s your issue, man? You’ve been weird all day and now you’re screaming at citizens?”
“Watch your tone.”
“Hyung, I’m not here as your colleague right now. I’m here as your friend.”
“She’s gonna leave, she can’t…”
Jungkook leads you away from the office before you can hear Yoongi’s full answer.
“Are you crying, Miss??”
“Hm? Oh that, don’t mind them. It’s just…” Your heart is broken and you want to run back to Yoongi. “...forgive me, I’m just a little shaken from everything.”
“I’m sorry, Miss. The captain isn’t normally like this.”
“It’s alright. I know how Yoongi can be sometimes.”
“Yoongi?” Jungkook asks, glancing at the captain’s office. He wonders what kind of friends you and he are. Maybe Those kind of friends? Is that why you are important to the captain?
“I mean…sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I just wish to go home now.”
“Of course, Miss.”
“Oh god, I don’t even have money for a bus ticket with me”, you murmur to yourself, looking for your wallet. This is all a scheme to get Jungkook to drive you home again. You are worried that if he didn’t, Yoongi would somehow get to you before you could reach the station.
“Don’t worry about it, Miss. As a policeman, it is my duty to make sure that you get home safely.”
“Really? I wouldn’t want to waste your time.”
“Of course, Miss.”
And so he takes you home and you hate yourself because of it. So it began. You were the first person who used his kindness to her advantage. You were the drop beginning the inevitable filling of the tank until one day it will swap over. And once that happens, it is almost impossible to stop the leak. Fuck, you are just as terrible as everyone else in this city.
But the young officer is oblivious to what you just did, driving you home with a kind smile on his face. He even walks you to your door and stays as you unlock it. Your neighbours are fucking again. He glances at their door, then awkwardly at you.
“Yeah, I’ve got new neighbours. You can’t go over there and flash your badge and tell them to shut up, can you?”
“Of course I can, Miss. Just one mom-”
“No stop, I was joking”, you stop him, studying him with exhausted eyes. You are so sorry. You are so fucking sorry.
“Ah, okay. Please forgive me, I always take everything way too seriously”, he says, scratching his own neck shyly. He furrows his brows. “What’s the matter, Miss?”
“Can I tell you something?”
“Of course, Miss.”
“Run.”
“What?”
“Run back to your hometown. Run and never look back.”
“Excuse me?” he laughs in confusion, furrowing his brows harder.
“You’re a good person, Jeon Jungkook. This city will fucking ruin you.”
“I…uh…” He laughs nervously. “I don’t seem to follow, Miss. Sorry.”
“You don’t need to get it, just listen to me. Please.”
“O…kay? I uhm…”
“Thank you for driving me home. I’ll think of you sometimes in my new home.”
“Miss, are you okay?”
“I am. You don’t need to worry about me anymore. Just promise me to run.”
“I promise?”
“Good. Be happy, Jeon Jungkook.”
“Miss, I-”
You close the door on him and lock it. You don’t expect him to knock or ring the bell. He is too proper to annoy you this way. You check the camera. He stares at the closed door for a few moments longer, looking confused. He lifts his hand to knock, hesitates and turns his back to the door instead, leaving down the steps to drive off. You know that you confused him, but you had to. Please let it be enough to save him.
V arrives later that day. He is stressed and clearly in a hurry.
“What’s wrong? You look like you need to be somewhere or like you need to shit. Do you need to shit?”
“What? No”, he sounds out of breath as well as annoyed, “I’m risking my ass being here. I’ve got your stuff. It’s the only thing except mine that I managed to save. Give me the money, quick.”
“Save?” you probe, giving him the money.
He stuffs it into his boxers hastily, looking over his shoulder again.
“My place got raided by cops. I was at the market getting food, then came back to five cop cars in front of my place. I barely escaped. If I didn’t always carry my stuff with me, I’d have been fucked.”
“What?!”
“Sorry, Hyacinth. Gotta leave the city for a while. I wish you all the best.”
“V, what the fuck?”
“Here’s to never seeing each other again, aye?” he jokes, laughing nervously. It’s a good thing he said. Never seeing each other again meant that you and he managed to escape safely.
“Wait. Where will you go?”
“I can’t tell you. You know I can’t.”
“Yeah, just…be careful.”
“You too.”
He leaves and you know that he will be successful. If there is one person who won’t ever be found it is V.
You are in a trance for the rest of the day. Yoongi raided V’s place. He went as far as to betray his own people just to make sure that you wouldn’t leave. Carrying your new passport feels like a trophy, as much as it feels like a curse. Leaving this city won’t be as easy anymore now that he knows. You are so fucking stupid for telling him, but you didn’t want to miss out on his reaction when he found out. The small moment of satisfaction seems skippable now that you know how far he is willing to go to keep you close. And because V came as late as he did, your means of escape don’t drive anymore either. You have to wait for the earliest bus if you wanted to or not. Fuck, you did this to yourself. You stupid fucking woman. Look at you. You have this big, honourable degree and still manage to get yourself into shitty situations over and over again.
You go to sleep with a gun under your pillow. You won’t risk anything.
You don’t get a lot of sleep and then a noise wakes you. You heard it as clear as day. Someone unlocked your front door. He sent men to get you. Now he’s gone too far. You jump out of bed and grab your loaded gun, tiptoeing to a spot from where you could observe the apartment. You have to be strategic about it. First count the men, then calculate the fastest way to shoot them, then act. The door closes and locks again. Clever bastards, they want to make sure that you don’t flee. Oh, you are going to have a blast killing them. One last little thing to leave Yoongi before you abandon him.
The automatic lights turn on. Got you, assholes.
The first enters your vision.
“Hm?”
Yoongi. Clearly drunk, he is dragging his feet over the floor, using the wall as support. No one else follows him. So he came here alone.
Overtaken by anger, you jump out of hiding and at him.
Yoongi collides with the wall, feeling the cold nuzzle of the gun press against his chin. He drops the keys and flowers he was carrying, lifting his hands in defeat.
“Careful, it’s just me”, he lulls.
“Get the fuck out of my house”, you spit, carrying murder in your eyes.
“I can’t believe you’re still hiding your keys under the flower pot. Don’t make me so worried, anyone could enter.”
“I’m gonna count to three and if you haven’t disappeared by then, I’ll shoot.”
“Can we talk?”
“One.”
“I know I fucked up. I can’t stop thinking about you. Please, can we try again?”
“Two.”
“I promise I changed. You were right, I was a joke. But I wanna do better now.”
“Three.” “I’m sorry!”
Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut. His death never comes. He peels his eyes open again.
You are staring, panting heavily. Tears are in your eyes.
“I’m sorry”, he whispers.
This is the first time he is the one to say these words first. It feels so good, but you can’t give in again. You made up your mind to leave…didn’t you? You study the state of him. He is heavily intoxicated. He looks the way and reeks of it.
“You’re drunk.”
He nods his head, furrowing his brows. He touches your elbows, caressing them softly. Such touch you only get when he is drunk.
“I drank because of you. What you said today. I just…don’t move away, please”, he begs, eyes filling with tears.
“So now you care? I wasn’t important to you when I was with you and now that I’m leaving, I’m suddenly important?”
“You’ve always been important.”
“No, I haven’t. You took me for granted.”
“I did and I’m sorry. I never should have taken you for granted. I’ll do better now, please just give me a chance to prove it to you.”
“If I give you a chance again, you’ll just abuse it and hurt me.”
“No, I won’t. Please, I just.” He cups your face, running his thumbs under your eyes as gently as possible. “We were right once. We were so good together. We were a team and, and we had dreams and we made each other happy. I want this back, I wanna try to get this back again please.”
“I just want to be happy, Yoongi”, you press out.
“I’ll make you happy, baby. Please, I-I’ll make you happy again.”
“No, you’re drunk and talking fucking shit.”
“I’ll leave this city if you want me to.”
You falter. He would give up what he built just for you?
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“I would. For you I would. I’d set this whole city on fire and leave with you as it burns to fucking ashes behind us, please.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Please”, he whispers and drops his forehead against yours, “please, I want to make you happy again.”
You hate that you love him. You hate that he made you addicted to him. This is so awfully him. He gives you enough affection that you get addicted to it then takes it away again. And once he feeds it to you again, you drink it up like an alcoholic. It is always the same.
“No, you won’t. You’re drunk.”
“Please.”
“Leave my place.”
He presses himself off the wall and grabs the nuzzle of the gun, guiding it right between his brows.
“You have to kill me if you want me gone.”
You gulp. He forces your finger to the trigger. Your airways close up.
“Kill me. Fucking kill me. I can’t live without you anyways.”
You could end it. You’ve got everything. Your suitcases, your papers, the keys of his car he drunkenly drove like an asshole. You’ve got everything you need to escape this place. You could end it, finally make sure that you have no temptation to return. You could end him and your addiction with it. He’s got your finger on the trigger, it needs just one flex and it would be over. But you never wanted him dead. No matter how much you wished for him to be gone, you never wanted him dead. Because in some fucked up way, all you really wanted was for him to put more effort into you.
“No”, you whimper, shaking your head.
He rips the gun from your fingers and drops it on your dresser.
“I don’t want to kill you”, you press out, sobbing softly.
He cradles your face, wiping your tears.
“I know”, he gets out, nodding his head, “I know you don’t, princess. I know.”
“Yoongi”, you squeak out, twisting his shirt.
“I’m here, princess. I’m here.”
He pulls you closer until his kiss is just one breath away, feeding on the shaky breath you let ghost against his lips. His drunken eyes gaze at your mouth, his heart is racing in his chest.
“Push me away”, he tells you.
“I hate you.”
“And I love you.”
“Yoongi”, you whimper, finally touching his chest instead of his shirt.
He moans and pulls you into a kiss. A deep, hungry kiss.
You pull at his hair to get him off of you as much as you pull him closer, fighting for air. You hate that you love…do you really? Do you really fucking hate it? Do you really hate it when his kiss makes you feel alive again? You spent months feeling out of breath and now it’s gone. You can breathe again. At least metaphorically, physically he’s got you very close to passing out. You push at him to get distance. Air. He lets you breathe, but not escape. He pushes you to your sofa until your legs collide with the back of it. Your shaky breaths intermingle, your shared moans follow. His right hand slides to your ass, his knee lifts to your middle.
You gasp, grinding down on him. You can’t protest because he kisses you so deeply it feels as if he wanted to consume your soul. He kisses and gropes, kisses and gropes until air is sparse. He gasps.
“Fuck. Fuck, I’m fucked”, he gets out and pulls your head back so he could drag his tongue up your throat.
It should disgust you, but it doesn’t. You moan, running your nails down his chest and arching your back. He lifts his head, looking at you with drunken, crazed obsession. His fingers just can’t stay still on your body. It is as if he wanted to touch everywhere at all times. The attention makes you short of breath.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
You touch his cheek. He leans into your palm, closing his eyes when you trace his scar. You were with him when he got it. It was during a fight. He fought with his fists, his opponent chose the cowardly way and pulled a knife on him. He was lucky that he didn’t lose his eyesight. He hated it at first, but you made him feel handsome. You always looked out for him that way.
“Do you…do you think I’m handsome?” he asks. Such questions you only get when he’s drunk.
“I do.”
His breath trembles as it leaves him. He drops his hand from your hips to take out his cock. He touches himself, gazing at you as if he needed the view of you to stay hard. And he does. He needs you. You are the only person who can turn him on.
You look at what his hand is doing, gulping heavily. He sighs, gazing at your face. You are as mesmerised by him as you were when everything was still good between you and him. His cock still has the same effect on you.
“Princess?” he tilts your head back up to meet your eyes, using only two fingers under your chin for it.
You meet his eyes, heart racing unbearably.
“Yes?” One little lift of his brows and you give him the answer he craved.
You part your legs, tilting your hips closer to him. You nod your head vigorously, gazing at his cock again.
He doesn’t bother to pull his pants down all the way, neither does he care about taking off your panties. He pushes them to the side and stuffs you full of him, gripping the edge of the couch and your right thigh as deep moans leave him. Your right leg is lifted like this, supported by him.
You gasp, tensing up. Your toes curl instantly, your fingers clutch his lower arms. His cock stretches you out and stuffs your walls. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is definitely intense. You gasp again, looking at him with widened eyes.
“I know baby, I know”, he breathes and bottoms out. “It’s been too long. Fuck.”
He moves, chasing your warmth in drunk, sloppy thrusts. You writhe and gasp repeatedly, scratching the back of his neck. You want to hate that you love him. He should feel like an intruder. You should want to kick and scream for help. But you don’t want to. You feel whole again. No preparation, but he doesn’t hurt. His kiss and touch was enough. Your addiction to him runs so deep that his cock is pure heroin to you.
“Yoongi”, you get out, grabbing his throat. Your thumbs are on his Adam’s apple, threatening to press down.
He smiles, “I love you”, he gasps out and drops his head against yours. His long hair tickles your face, his drunken breath swirls over your skin. He gulps and moans under your fingers, pumping into you with no signs of slowing down. You start losing strength in your calf, standing like this is exhausting, but if you were being honest, you don’t want it to stop.
“I hate you.”
“Fucking kill me then”, he rasps.
You close your fingers slightly.
“Harder. This isn’t gonna do it.”
“You first.”
“Fuck, baby”, he gets out and lifts you so he could round the sofa with you. He pins you down into the pillows, ripping the panties off of you and kicking his pants off. He pushes into you before you can truly realise what was happening, feeding you all of him until he can’t give any more. He twists the pillow next to your head as he takes on a punishing rhythm. His dark hair hangs into his face, his teeth are bared as he huffs like an angry animal.
“Yoon-”
“I know, baby I know. You already told me, baby. I know”, he whispers, wiping your cheek, “take me, I know you can. You’re my baby, you’re made for me.”
His praise is like medicine to you. This is all you needed. To know that he is still obsessed with you and that you still affect him.
You close your legs around his hips, keeping him with you this way. You need him to always stay like this. He moans your name, slipping his fingers from your cheek to hold the pillow instead. You told him that you hated him, but your body betrays you. Your eyes betray you. You keep him close, gaze at him as if he was your everything. Yoongi’s head is turning. Not only from the alcohol, but also from being with you again. And from knowing that you still loved him.
Because he loves you so much. He hates himself for taking you for granted. He never should have. You are his everything. The fucking reason why he does all of this. The last three months were torture for him. He started smoking again, drank too much, slept too little, worked too many hours. And if he didn't distract himself with work, he tried thinking up ways of showing you that he was still there for you. He ordered his officers to look out for you, sent food deliveries to your place, parked in front of your place somewhere hidden to watch you smoke on the staircase. He also followed you sometimes after you confessed to him that some of his goons were terrorising you. And each time he followed you, he wished for you to notice him just so he could get a chance at talking to you again. But you never did and Yoongi thought that you will come back again soon. Then you told him that you would move and Yoongi finally broke. He was truly losing you. Three months of hell, of lonely nights and heartbreak and he was truly losing you.
“I missed you”, he gets out, painting his name against your favourite spots. The eagerness with which you clasp him results in your hips to lift off the pillow, allowing your clit to grind against him each time he bottoms out. The necklaces he is wearing are tangling over your face. They were too long once, but Yoongi cut them to the perfect length so they wouldn't hit your face when you are underneath him. That was six months ago. During a time you thought he didn’t care anymore. You feel so stupid now. His way of showing you that he cared was always there. He was always looking out for you. You were just too blind to see.
You gasp and whimper, mewl and keen, looking up at him with teary eyes and your fingers closing around nothing. You can’t tell him that you missed him too because you are too overwhelmed.
“Did you miss me too?” but Yoongi is drunk tonight and when he is drunk he is needy for your affection.
You nod your head.
“Say it.”
“I missed you”, you get out, following it up with a sob.
“Baby, I love you”, he croaks, wiping your tears before dropping his forehead against yours, “I love you, baby, I love you. Don’t leave me again, please.”
“You’re so drunk.”
“Yeah, drunk ‘cause of you. Thought I’ll lose you. Baby, I can’t lose you”, he croaks and shows you his honesty with passionate rolls of his hips. Somehow he goes even deeper than before, he hits your favourite spots even better.
You arch your back and scream his name, throwing your head back as best as possible. This is electric. Holy shit, he makes you feel good. Your face scrunches up against your will, your feet shake on his back.
Yoongi admires you with a pounding head and racing heart, repeating what he did before over and over and over again. You react in mewls and moans and screams and he can’t get enough of it. He wants for you to lose your fucking voice because you couldn’t stop screaming for him. Because if you sound like this for him, he makes you happy. It has been too long since you actually screamed this way, so Yoongi is especially affected by tonight.
He laces his fingers with yours – again, he is drunk – and squeezes them needily. He thinks that he is crying too. He watches pearls of something drip onto your face sometimes. His eyes also burn. He doesn’t want it to stop. He is willing to carry his emotions on his sleeve if it meant you were happy again.
“Is this what you needed? Does this finally make you fucking happy?” he gets out, chasing the ecstasy as much as he helps you with your own pleasure trip.
You squeeze his hands back, making him moan your name.
“Ye-yes.”
“Argh”, he growls, trying so much harder to fuck you right. It feels so good. He has to tell you. He stayed silent way too often in the past. You want his efforts and he wants to give them to you. “You feel so good.”
The first confession was hard because he isn’t used to sharing his feelings. It was hard, but it was also ecstatic because your sounds of pleasure became louder and you tightened around him, squeezing his hands happily.
“You feel so good. You feel so fucking good. You feel so good, princess. You feel…so good”, he can’t stop now that he started, telling you over and over and over again how you make him feel. Good. So good. He feels so good when he is with you. “You are so good. Princess, fuck. I have to..I, I have to- ah!”
You open your eyes in time with Yoongi collapsing on top of you. He whimpers into the crook of your neck, shaking almost pathetically.
There are two things you always believed to be true about Yoongi. First: When he fucks, his moans are always deep, raspy and growly. Second: He has perfect control over his orgasms.
Both of these things are getting proven wrong to you right here and now as he whimpers and shakes and paints your walls with his unexpected orgasm. You want to blame the alcohol on it and maybe the months of abstinence, perhaps even the fear of losing you paired with the relief of having you again. Holy fuck, he actually loves you doesn’t he?
“I love you”, he sobs, hugging you close.
“Yoongi ah”, he breaks you with his confession and the tenderness with which he holds you. You swear that you can taste colours for a moment. You haven’t felt honestly good in your own skin in months. This right here is what feeling good is. This is it.
You don’t know who comes down first. You think it is Yoongi, but even if he does, he doesn’t pull out. He lets you shake and throb and clench around him until your moment of peak pleasure is over as well. He holds you silently afterwards, catching his breath in the crook of your neck. He missed your scent like nothing else. Truly, it leaves him so drugged out that he actually finds himself drooling as he smiles like a giddy boy.
You calm down with his weight atop your chest, his length still inside you and his hair between your fingers. It is still a little stiff and crusty from the variety of hair products he keeps in it during his day job. To think that mere hours ago, you were screaming at each other in his office. It feels so far away to you now. Like a memory of an unbelievable life.
You don’t hate that you love him. You really don’t.
“How.” He clears his throat. “How are you feeling?”
“Good.”
“Are you sore? Does anything hurt?”
“No, but I’m leaking.”
“Fuck”, he laughs into your shoulder, nibbling on it gently, “sorry, I just…am drunk and missed you.”
“You were pathetic doing that.”
He laughs harder. You and he have a peculiar sense of humour. He knows that you meant it fondly. You laugh as well. He lifts his head at the sound of it, cupping your cheek.
“If it means you’re laughing, I can live with being pathetic.”
Your heart flutters.
“What’s gotten into you?”
“Booze. Way too much booze.”
You laugh again. His eyes soften, he caresses your face.
“Definitely too much booze, yeah”, you agree.
“Mhm, fuck.” He cuddles into your shoulder again. “I’m sleeping here.”
“And you think I’d let you?”
He nods his head.
“Fuck, you’re the worst.”
“Am I wrong?”
“No, you’re not.”
You wake up alone the next morning. It hurts. So nothing changed. He got what he wanted, made you addicted again only to leave. Like he always did. And you are left feeling dirty and used and fucking awful.
You probably would have stayed in bed to cry the entire day if a very worrying noise hadn’t come from outside your door. Someone’s in your kitchen. You roll out of bed and leave the room. You don’t need weapons today. You are angry enough that you will probably be able to beat whoever is dumb enough to break in.
You cross the corner and stop, lowering your fists.
Yoongi.
He took a shower and tied all of his wet hair into a messy bun. He is shirtless, wearing a towel around his hips. Music is playing from his phone while on the stove, breakfast is sizzling.
“You?”
He turns at the sound of your voice, face lighting up instantly.
“Good morning, beautiful”, he says, closing the distance to take you into a hug. “Did you sleep well?”
You don’t answer him, you push at his chest so you could look at him. You can’t believe that he is still here and that he is making you breakfast.
“What’s the matter?” he asks.
“Why the fuck are you still here?”
He furrows his brows, “why not?”
“I, I don’t know. I just, just. I thought that…huh? You didn’t leave?”
He frowns in regret for a moment, before leaning in to kiss your cheek. He gives your left buttock an almost playful squeeze afterwards, stepping back to return to the cooking.
“I’m making your favourite. I also cleaned. Your place was a shithole, honestly.”
Still flabbergasted beyond relief, you look around your small apartment. He didn’t just clean up the garbage and tidy, he fully wiped the place down. You check the clock next. It’s way past one at noon. You slept for more than twelve hours. Damn. You never even realised how much sleep these last three months took from you until you finally fell asleep in his arms again and actually stayed asleep. You feel refreshed and not uncomfortable in your own skin.
Last, you look at Yoongi. He is humming to the music, switching between stirring the eggs in the pan and chopping up some pork belly.
At first you don’t want to accept that this is actually happening to you, but then the desire to be close to him gets too grande to bear. You almost run to him, colliding with his back in a passionate hug.
He stumbles and grunts, following it up with a fond chuckle and his big hands rubbing your lower arms.
“Please don’t make me regret this again. Please.”
He turns in your arms, caressing your waist. He shakes his head, looking at you in ways he hasn’t looked at you in ages. As if he honestly loved you.
“Can you promise me?”
“I promise you, baby”, he says in a soft voice and locks pinkies with you.
The gesture is so cute and honest, that you have to stifle a giggle. Your heart hasn’t fluttered like this in ages.
“I have an idea. How about I’ll take next week off and we’re leaving this city for a while? Maybe the mountains? You’d like the air there”, he suggests.
“Are you serious? Do you actually mean that?”
He nods his head. You and he began swaying to the music, looking at nothing else but the other.
“But first I gotta sort out the mess I made when I busted V’s place”, he says.
“Yeah true.” You slap his chest. “Fuck you for that. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know, I know. I acted irrationally, I admit. But I’m gonna fix this. You know how easily I can make stuff disappear. He’ll be able to return again in a week or so.”
“I hope you’ll fix this, you idiot you.”
“Mhm, I will and then I’m taking you on a long vacation”, he says, kissing your forehead before hugging you against his chest.
You close your eyes, melting into his chest.
“And when we’re there, I’m gonna make you breakfast and make you cum and make you smile. Yeah?” he whispers.
“Yeah”, you snicker.
He smells like your shower gel today, but you don’t mind. He hasn’t shown such an actual desire to change in months and it feels so good to receive. You love that you love him. You really do.
“I love you, Yoongi”, you whisper, feeling him squeeze you for just a moment as your confession overwhelms him.
“I love you too, princess”, he tells you and he is sober for it because he swore to himself that he won’t need alcohol anymore to be able to show you his affection.
He is willing to better himself, he truly is and a week later, you and he are in his car on your way to a long vacation in the mountains.
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💢 At Each Other's Throats 💢
Spencer Reid x female! Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024
Summary: A previous encounter means that you're not the biggest fan of Spencer Reid, and you go to some extreme lengths to prove that to him.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Dom! Spencer, but not exactly sub reader , degradation (use of whore, slut), semi-public foreplay, arguing as foreplay etc, oral sex (m receiving, f mentions, too), face fucking, rimming, nipple play, rough sex/ rough play, spanking, slapping, spitting, choking, messy sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, mentions of painful sex/ pain play etc. some possible CNC triggers/ phrasing.
A/N: I couldn't find a gift of Spencer being bitchy enough, so everyone, please enjoy Kyle Orfman from Life After Beth. This one was a labour of love, if love was actually hate. It's 2am. This is obviously not edited, and may never be.
Masterlist || Bingo Board
You knew from reputation alone that you would have a hard time working with Spencer Reid. Perhaps it was the slew of child prodigy articles that popped up alongside his name. Maybe it was even just your preconceived notion of what men with three PhDs, a badge, and a gun were like. Maybe it was the fact that he'd written to you after one of your first professional articles was published in The American Journal of Forensic Medicine and Pathology and told you a piece you'd worked on for 18 months was just plain wrong.
Either way, you laid eyes on him, and the hatred was cemented. But fuck was he hot.
He had no clue who you were as his boss introduced you to him, looking between the two of you as if expecting good things to happen. You should've warned him.
“Spencer, this is Y/N. She'll be assisting on a few cases from this month onwards.”
His eyes glazed over as he ran your name through whatever roller index of memories he had stored in there.
“Y/N is a lecturer at the University of Virginia. She's going to be lecturing at the FBI Academy from September onwards-”
“You! You wrote an article, I wrote to you about it, did you get my le-”
“Yes, I got your letter. I believe you called my writing ‘juvenile’ and my thinking ‘wishful,’ and that if I had any actual field experience, I'd slowly understand how many mistakes there were in my writing.”
Agent Hotchner took an almost imperceptible deep breath in, trying to hide the fact that this was all new information to him.
“Well, here I am, Doctor Reid.”
The man in front of you gaped for a moment, letting his mouth hang open, closing after a few seconds only to open again. Perhaps you'd disorganized that index of his. You hoped you'd set the goddamn thing alight.
“Shall we get started?”
To say that you'd gotten off to a bad start was an understatement. Your start had been reversed over by a dump truck with no tires. It had been cemented into the ground with no chance of going anywhere but down into the pits of hell.
Which is, coincidentally, where you found yourself every time you had to engage Spencer Reid in conversation.
Your first impression of his looks - his incredibly good looks - was that he was even better looking when he was pensive, and unhappy, and being bitchy. He was positively climbable when argumentative, and you liked nothing more than ruining his day, if just for the fact that he'd angrily loosen his tie and pop open his top buttons, exposing the pale white of his neck, and his sharp collar bones, perfectly ready for someone to suck and nip at.
He was still an ass, however, and you couldn't bring yourself to sink to those depths.
Four cases in, and you hadn't agreed on one thing. You'd caught a serial arsonist, who he had demanded was most likely an office worker, but you'd countered with college student, and you had prevailed there. 1-0.
Then, unfortunately, you'd lost back to back cases with unsubs in the trucking industry, unfamiliar with and uninterested in the life of the Jack Kerouac type.
You'd even the playing field at last with a child abduction. And although you knew you'd both been keeping score, you were so genuinely happy for this case to be over. A child was safe at home, and you'd worked so well under pressure (something he had assured you would change your view of your personal forensic psychology theories). 2-2.
Of course, those were just the big leagues. You'd fought many petty battles, too, as the war waged.
You'd accidentally stolen his place on the jet, enjoying the long bench seat for a good few naps. A few times, he'd settled in next to you, trying to nudge you out of the chair completely, but you'd held your ground.
“This is my seat. Usually. There are like 10 other places on this jet to sit. Why does it have to be here?” He'd grumbled into your ear as you gently elbowed him in the side, accidentally, of course.
“There aren't assigned seats. Maybe you have control issues, Doctor,” you cut back, trying to avoid speaking too loud to avoid the ire of the group.
While you'd enjoyed bickering with - and intellectually besting - Spencer greatly, it did seem that the sentiment wasn't shared by those around you.
“You can't be serious, right now,” Morgan complained from a seat opposite. “You're seriously fighting over a seat, right now?”
“It's my seat, Derek, come on, you know it's my seat.”
The look returned to Spencer almost had you ashamed of your petty actions.
“I swear they're just taking every advantage to get closer and closer together. Next thing you know, she'll be sitting in his lap,” Emily said from the corner of the plane, so obviously not talking to you that you were almost offended.
“Ah, young infatuation,” Rossi replied, still ignoring you.
Reid slinked just slightly away after that, and you weren't sure if you were more annoyed at the comments themselves or the loss of his annoying companionship.
You wanted him to bother you because it meant you'd succeeded in bothering him.
You'd had more than your fair share of rather explosive arguments as well.
“You can't seriously believe that Thomas Edison did more for the field of engineering than Nikola Tesla,” he'd shouted at you at a bar after a case had landed you in paperwork hell, filling out forms and working into the late hours.
A drink had been suggested, a celebration after solving four straight cases in a row, and you'd gladly taken the chance to unwind.
“Spencer, we're literally sat in a bar decorated with multiple light bulbs. Look, there's one. Another! Astounding. Thank you, Mr Edison.”
“And none of it would be possible without Alternating Current, so yes. Thank you, Mr Tesla.”
Your teammates had long since abandoned you to your petty bickering and fighting amongst yourselves. They'd stopped getting involved when Penelope had tried to mediate your discussion about Doctor Who, which had quickly devolved into New Who vs Old Who.
You didn't even care strongly either way, you just cared that he did. And however he felt, you were sure as hell ready to take up arms against him. Because it was so fuckimg hot watching him lose his shit.
You were a grown woman. You could admit that to yourself. You likely wouldn't admit it to anyone else, even if it was as clear as day that you found him unbearable attractive at times. You sure as hell knew that it wasn't a one-way street, from the way his eyes strolled across your body each morning.
You wondered if there was a section of his brain that was dedicated to memorising everything you'd said, done, and worn since he'd met you. You hoped there was.
On your fifth and final case with the BAU team, you felt unmatched in your annoyance.
You were still drawn with Spencer for case breakthroughs, and you felt the need to beat him once again just to nail the point home. He was just stubborn enough to see a 3-2 win as a landslide victory for himself, though you were absolutely going to frame it that way yourself if you managed to be the one to crack everything.
All sense of teamwork and camaraderie was off the table.
You had a murderer to catch.
Three women, beaten, assaulted, and tied up. He'd shorn their hair but bagged them up so they were unseen. Then he'd placed the bags on display. The unsub was caught between two extremes, hatred of his victims, and gentleness, protecting their dignity in death by covering them up.
Obviously, you and Spencer had to decide which side of the debate you were to land on.
“I think we're dealing with a killer without remorse here. It's easier to explain the covering, the dressing of the women as a ritual rather than guilt.”
He'd finally played his cards, and now it was your turn to passionately wipe them from the table.
“Remorse? He's cut all their hair off and beat half of them so badly we needed dental to identify them. And in case you've forgotten Spencer, half of them are prostitutes.”
“You're saying he can't feel remorse for killing prostitutes?”
“That is not what I'm saying. Don't twist my words."
“Well, of you'd said something that wasn't nonsensical, I'd have a better chance of understanding what the hell you're trying to say!’
With every line you'd stepped closer and closer to one another, like two boxers in a ring, sizing each other up before a fight.
You wanted to take his tie and strangle him with it. You wanted to pull him down for a kiss and force him to shut the hell up.
“Reid, Y/N, both of you take five,” Hotch called sternly from the other side of the room. Guiltily, you both broke away from one another, his hand brushing your side as you took a step back, almost as if he'd meant to grab you before Hotch stepped in.
Probably to remove you from the room.
“Take five?” You said, mustering all the disappointment you could as you silently pleaded to stick around.
“Go back to the motel and get some rest. If you're going to argue like this, I don't need you at the precinct, and I certainly don't need you on my team.”
You blanched at that, almost taken aback by the harsh words as you silently nodded and quietly walked towards the door, letting it shut behind you.
Spencer stayed behind, and though you couldn't hear his arguments, you knew he was attempting to reason with Hotch, as well. It evidently didn't work as he stormed out of the room behind you.
He looked half like a kicked puppy, half like an angry school kid who'd just been scolded by a teacher.
“Don't look at me like that, this is your fault,” you muttered as you walked away from the room.
“What? How is this my fault?”
“If you weren't so goddamn infuriating, we'd be able to get some actual work done.”
You marched off in the direction of the exit, but he caught your shoulder before you made it that far.
“You're blaming me? This is my job, Y/N, not yours. You get to go back to a cushy little office after this is done to teach the people that are going to end up doing the paperwork that consists of only 2% of our job.”
His finger jabbed at your shoulder as he said the words, and you had to resist the temptation to grab it.
“Doesn't feel too good to be criticized when you're just doing your job, huh, Spencer?”
His brows knitted together in a deepened scowl and he took a step forward.
But there were eyes on you, and whatever confrontation this was, you didn't want to act it out in front of an office full of cops.
You turned and walked away again, down a seemingly abandoned hall to what looked to be an empty storage cupboard, flinging the light on and waiting the three seconds it took him to catch up with you.
“What's your problem?” He said, joining you in the cramped closet.
“You! You're the problem! You're infuriating, and annoying, and most important, you're you!” You poked his chest back, harder than he had earlier, quietly reveling in the feel of his body under your fingertip.
“Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like me to be someone different? Someone who worships the ground you walk on?” He said, discovering sarcasm for the first time since you'd been introduced.
“Sure, Spencer, if you can take tour head out of your own ass long enough to worship someone else, then be my guest.”
With a single push he crowded you against the wall, a hand above your head locking you into position as his other hand held your hip, his own hips joining you at the wall as you sucked in a breath.
“You're begging to hear praise, right now, Y/N. Do you even hear yourself?” He asked, whispering the words directly into your ear.
“W-Well, you have me pressed up against the wall like some fucking caveman that needs to breed or die.” You spent half the time you were talking trying to compensate for the stutter, trying not to look weak, that you totally missed the words that came from your own mouth.
“You think I want to have sex with you?” He asked, chuckling awkwardly, even as his hand on your hip began rubbing circles, his head hanging lower, just inches away from your mouths meeting.
“I think you'd love nothing more,” you said, finally lifting your hands to his hair and tucking a lock behind his ears. “Such a shame I won't be crawling into your bed.”
“Is that a challenge?” He asked, and you were taken aback for a few seconds.
“You want me so fucking bad, you're trying to convince yoursel-”
With a swoop, he cut you off, his lips meeting yours. You gasped and allowed his tongue to enter your mouth, but you came to your senses quickly. You kissed back with all the anger of the last month and all the attraction that had built up since you'd joined the team. Your tongue fought his, your hands tangled in his hair as his pulled them out, pinning them against a wall. But you slipped free and grabbed him again, grabbing the tie you'd wanted to choke him with earlier and not letting go.
His lips were soft, and his body felt hot pressed against you, and you hated how good he was at all of this, how your body responded to his, how each time you pulled away it was with a small whimper as you begged for more.
“I knew you wanted me,” he said, between kisses, grabbing your face and tilting it up as he returned his tongue to yours.
“Oh, shut the fuck up, you kissed me first.” His hands trailed up your hips, untucking your shirt as he pushed his hand under, his cold fingers sending a trail of goosebumps along your skin as you shuddered.
“I kissed you because you begged me to,” he said, his fingers caressing the bottom of your chest as he tried to press your bra up further.
You were about to argue back when his lips met yours again, and you were lost in the haze of arousal, leg lifting to his hip to better allow him space to settle against you.
You grew wilder in your passion, neither of you giving in even for one second as you writhed against each other, begging for satisfaction while denying that you'd ever wanted each other in the first place. Just as it became unbearable, your hands slipping to his belt, ready to pull his cock free and take it, the door opened again.
“Reid, Y/N,” Morgan said from the doorway as you hastily jumped away from each other.
You pulled your shirt down quickly, and Spencer stepped behind you, covering up the tent in his pants as you stared guiltily up at Derek Morgan.
“Hotch sent me after you to give you the keys to the SUV,” he grumbled, making no comment on anything that happened.
“We were just, um, we were just-” your brain fought for an excuse, but you'd left your brain behind somewhere between joining the BAU and foreplay with Spencer in a closet, so words escaped you.
“You were just making out in a closet. It's okay, we all know,” Derek said, turning to leave.
You jumped up, indignant now he'd brushed you off, and followed him out of the closet, an equally shocked Spencer trailing behind you.
“What do you mean you all know? All know what?” You said, stomping back into the office.
“That you two are into each other. It's why Hotch sent you away earlier. He didn't want to see the two of you going at it,” he said, pressing the car keys into your hands.
“We are not into each other,” Spencer shouted back at Morgan as he stalked off, and you glared at him to shut his mouth. There was a crowd forming, and you still didn't need that attention. Not when your hair was matted from seven minutes in hell with Spencer or when his hand had, once again, settled on your hip, pulling you closer into him.
“Let's go,” you huffed, and finally left the building with Spencer right behind you.
You didn't talk for the rest of the drive home, even as your brain flooded itself with images of him taking you in the back of the car, your lips around his dick as he drove, him pulling over to bend you over the hood.
You went straight to your separate rooms when you got back to the motel, though you swore that the walls were thin enough that he surely heard you pleasure yourself, fingers sinking into yourself. You weren't sure if he, too, had his hand wrapped around his cock, or if your brain was just now imagining whatever it liked to spur you on.
Imagined or real, his moans were delicious, a maddening mix of frustration, exasperation and desperation, whimpers and groans, and small growls until you yourself were cumming, and letting yourself sleep.
You avoided talking, all talking, until the end of the case, even as your head replayed his infuriating words, his moans and the rustling sound of his fingers pressing your shirt up. You refused to talk to him to give his coworkers the validation of arguing with him once more. You weren't into each other.
You simply wanted to fuck him. You didn't like him as a person otherwise.
In avoiding him, though, the small taste of release you'd sampled in the closet had your softer parts deliriously wanting more. As much as you hated Spencer, you needed him so bad.
You'd given him the cold shoulder but he'd returned it just as quickly, and you were more annoyed not talking to him than you weren't.
Your last case wrapped up, and you decided it was time to give him what he so obviously wanted. A conversation.
You sat yourself right back down in his seat as you got on the jet and laid down, pulling his blanket over yourself as you took up the entire space.
The others shook their heads at you as they walked on, Spencer taking up the rear. His eyes met yours, and he scowled, and you couldn't help but wonder if he'd look like that fucking you, so stern and angry.
You sighed and pushed onto your side as he stood over you.
“That's my seat.”
You smiled in success as you looked over your shoulder.
“I'm tired, I'm going to sleep.”
“But that is my seat-”
“Spencer, you've sat on every seat on this damn plane before, that wasn't your seat until last month, now sit down, shut up and let me rest,” JJ exploded and you suddenly felt bad for drawing him into your argument. Or you did until you sat up a bit, and he sat himself right down where your head had been.
“Spencer!”
“I give up…” JJ groaned from the table seats, pulling headphones over her head and shutting her eyes, and the others made to ignore you similarly.
Not one to be beaten, you pushed the book in his hands off his lap and laid your head down again, now cushioned by his legs.
“What-” his voice squeaked as you shut your eyes, too, and made yourself comfortable. He didn't push you off, or, heaven forbid, start talking to you again. Shockingly, he adjusted to the position quickly and resigned himself to pillow duty for the six hour flight.
You, too, shocked yourself by how fast you fell asleep. You woke up with his hands in your hair, stroking your head as he read, book in one hand, you in the other. His hands felt wonderful, raking through your long locks, brushing each errant hair off your face.
“Spencer?” You said, voice still thick with sleep.
His hand shot away, and you almost regretted not pretending to sleep for longer, sure that he'd have gone on if you hadn't said anything.
You straightened and cleared your own throat as you stretched, sitting quietly as you listened to the flight landing announcement.
“Congrats, Y/N, you've successfully finished your time with the BAU,” Rossi said from his seat opposite you, strapping in for the landing.
“And you haven't been shot, kidnapped, or slapped. That's gotta be a first, right?” Emily joked from the corner.
You smiled quietly as you strapped yourself down, scooting even closer to Spencer now to get your belt fastened.
Still, you couldn't resist the urge to mumble a retort.
“I'm sure Spencer thought about it a few times,” you sighed, a breath of resignation releasing from your lips dramatically.
The others chuckled, but Spencer sat silently next to you until the jet landed.
He stayed quiet as he began to pack his things, but it became clear quickly that he was dragging everything out. As the plane emptied, you shot him a curious look, not daring to speak until you were the last two on the plane.
“You're being slow today.”
“I've never thought about shooting you or kidnapping you,” he said, voice low and quiet, even though you were alone.
“It was a joke, Spencer,” you started, so sick of him taking g everything so seriously. You made to walk past him, but as you did, you felt his hand on your waist pulling you back as another hand came hard and fast at your ass.
“I wasn't finished speaking,” he said as his hand ran over your butt, soothing the pain he'd just delivered. “I have thought about slapping you, though.”
With that he grabbed his bag and stalked off the jet, not bothering to cast another look behind him.
Two could play at that game.
In about the most childish was you could muster, you ran ahead of him, staying three paces directly in front of him as he tried to overtake you. You moved when he moved. You sped up when he sped up. You even stopped a few times, so he'd run into you.
“Y/N, cut it out.”
“Make me,” you said, throwing a withering look over your shoulder.
He didn't wither.
Instead, he grabbed your arm and marched you all the way through the FBI building, down to the parking lot, and into your car. As soon as he had you safely in the driver's seat, he closed the door, pulling off your visitors' pass.
“I'll return this for you, no need for you to dally.”
“Fuck you,” you spat out the window as you started the ignition.
“It's been a pleasure,” he said with a grimace.
“No, it hasn't,” you said back, wondering how long you'd spend in jail of you just mowed him down then and there.
“You’re right. It hasn't,” he said, leaning down and into the window so you were now eye to eye.
“Really? It seems like you got a lot of pleasure out of spanking me earlier. You were certainly experiencing a lot of pleasure when you pushed me up against a wall last week. If it wasn't pleasure, there was definitely something long-”
“Long?” He smirked.
“And hard in your pants.”
He leaned in through the window, his breath fanning against your cheeks as he whispered into your ear.
“That was my gun.”
“And I certainly won't be helping you fire a load,” you said, starting the ignition and pushing him back from the window as you drove away from the FBI and away from Spencer Reid.
It infuriated him that you'd gotten the last word. You'd spent a month with him and hadn't even given him a chance to show off his good qualities, and then you'd left without giving him a chance to prove himself.
And, in doing so, you'd told a blatant lie.
There had been two people in that closet, two people with tongues desperate for contact, eager for battle. You'd been moaning just as much as he had when his hands found your nipples.
But you'd gotten to drive away without listening to his retort, and it was killing him.
He sat and seethed at his desk for a while, waiting for the sense of relief that you were gone to wash over him. This had been what he wanted for weeks. Why was he now so discontent? Why did everything feel wrong?
Abandoning paperwork he knew wouldn't be needed until at least next week, Spencer found your address in the team files, wrote it down, and left his desk.
When you got home, there was nothing waiting for you.
It was annoying. You'd spent the last month constantly on the go, always with more work, more cases, more paperwork. You'd killed any apparent gaps with Spencer.
You could still feel his hands on your ass. You hated to admit it, but in your short acquaintance with Doctor Asshat, you'd grown fond of having him around as eye candy. When he wasn't being annoying (talking, breathing, or generally just being), you could quite happily imagine his head buried between your legs, his tongue lapping up every drop of cum you had to offer.
There were definitely better things he could be doing with his mouth, in any case.
Your body felt hot, itchy, and neglected as you got home, running a shower immediately and stepping in.
The water was hot, and the room steamed up faster than you expected. You washed away the fatigue, and you washed away the dirt of a month of cheap motels..
Just as you were about to wash away the memories of Spencer Reid and his stupidly skilful tongue, the doorbell rang.
It wasn't unusual for you to get visitors at 10 pm, but usually they announced themselves.
You stayed put in the shower. It was probably a package you'd ordered, and it could honestly wait.
The ringing, though, didn't stop. Whoever was at your door was insistent. First, the door rang to the rhythm of jingle bells. Then, they moved on to Fur Elise. When they got to Flight of the Bumblebees Levels of bullshit, you couldn't stand it anymore.
You wrapped a towel around you and pulled the door open wide.
“Sp- mm?” You said, shocked to see him there, but completely floored by his appearance, and more importantly the two hands he'd planted on your cheeks as he pulled you in for a hot, hard, and fast kiss.
You pushed him off with a hard slap to his face, and stalked further into your apartment, knowing he'd follow closely behind.
You heard the door slam shut as he made to grab you again, but you stayed just out of reach.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I came because neither of us will move on without this.”
“Oh, you need me so much you won't be able to move on if you don't fuck me?” You scoffed, expecting a sarcastic answer to a sarcastic question.
“Yes,” he said, and your shock at his earnestness gave him the moment he needed to grab at you again.
This time, though, the tiny towel that had been holding your dignity in place dropped to the floor as Spencer Reid pinned you against the wall.
“Already fucking bare and wet for me, how well-behaved.”
“Go fuck yourself!” you said, even as his hands cupped your breasts, grabbing and pulling both of your nipples, making you moan.
“See, your mouth is being a bitch, but your body is being a whore.”
“Just fuck me won't you? No need to run your mouth.”
“I think we're finally in agreement on something,” he said, pushing you to your knees.
“What? Sp-”
In one quick swoop he released his cock from his pants and wrapped a hand around all of your hair as he slid it down your waiting throat.
As much as you protested, your mouth was wide open, and your hands wrapped around him just as eagerly.
Holding your head still, Spencer began to talk as he fucked your throat.
“There we go. That's exactly how I've needed you for the last month.”
You glared at him as you sank your nails into his thighs, gagging on his cock as he picked up his pace.
With two taps on his leg, you requested a moment, and he quickly pulled his dick out of your mouth.
You coughed quickly, then spat out all of your accumulated drool before looking up at him.
Part of you wanted to force him down next to you, to make him taste your cunt the way you'd thought about earlier. The other part, the larger part, was excited about him using you.
He grabbed his dick and slapped your face with it, returning your earlier hit. He was waiting for you to open up again so he could cum down your throat and leave.
“Open,” he demanded.
You didn't comply, but you stuck out your tongue, lapping at his tip slowly as you sat on your hands. He held his breath as you kissed the underside of his shaft, making his way to his balls. You reached them and finally sucked them into your mouth, making sure to look up and make eye contact with him as you toyed with his private place.
He didn't argue or complain. Instead he fisted a hand into your hair and dragged you to your bedroom.
Divesting himself of his pants and shirt, he sat down and, still on all fours, pushed your face back into his crotch. Perched on the edge of your bed, he held his cock up and served himself to you.
“Well? Get back to it, Y/N.”
Your tongue found his cock first as his hands massaged his balls, playing with them gently as you licked all the way to his tip then buried yourself between his asscheeks. You licked at the skin between his ass and balls, you tasted every inch of him, and you grew angry that he still hadn't done this for you.
Against his wished, you rose and spat on his cock, before squeezing it hard.
“Spencer, are you going to fuck me or are you just going to ruin my makeup?”
“You look prettier with spit coating your face than you've looked with any lipstick,” he said as you pushed him down onto the bed and grabbed his cock.
Straddling his waist, you were surprised he.let you sink down onto his cock without so much as another word. You felt him fill you up, one inch, then another until you sat fully sheathed on top of him.
And then he flipped you over so he was back in control.
“Son of a bitch,” you muttered as he pulled out and thrust back in.
“You wanted me to fuck you, I'm fucking you.”
You wanted to argue but all you could do was moan yes as he set a furious pace, thumb and forefinger pinching your clit as you bucked into him wildly.
You couldn't stand too much of this, knowing that you wanted to at least outlast him. You wanted to tell him how pathetic he was for cumming first, you wanted to gloat that he'd wanted you more, that he couldn't resist breeding your hot wet cunt. You knew any more of this, though, and you would instead be on the receiving end of those same taunts.
Pushing against his chest, you used the last of your strength to flip him over again. He struggled, though, stronger than you were expecting, and you rolled together like that for a few moments.
You almost went crashing to the floor as he fought for control, but he pushed a foot off the bed and held you up with his lower body strength. The new position though forced his cock deeper, to just the right angle, and when he thrust into you again, you did something you'd never done before during sex.
You screamed your pleasure.
Your orgasm ripped through you, as painful as it was pleasurable, and you grabbed Spencer Reid by the neck and forced his tongue to meet yours.
He couldn't complain, too busy moaning about your hot, wet, and now tighter cunt to worry about whether he should be kissing you.
He pulled back and picked his pace right back up, but this time, you resisted less. Hooking a hand under your legs, he pressed your legs up, pushing his stomach and chest down just above your own as he moved slower but harder.
You wondered if this was what other wen talked about when they said they wanted someone to beat their pussy up, to use them until they couldn't stand. You didn't think you could even think about walking again for the next month as he spread your knees apart and pinned them to the bed, unloading his cum as deep inside you as anything had ever been.
You didn't even know your body bent that way.
Panting, he collapsed on top of you and buried his head in your shoulder, mumbling and muttering to himself as he came down from his ecstasy.
He didn't pull out. He barely even softened as he kissed across the expanse of your throat, thrusting shallowly with each nip, until your body couldn't take anymore.
He picked a spot and sucked, and licked and bit and soothed as he ended one round, and began another.
“Spencer-” you said, gasping as he sat up, his cock once again standing at attention, filling you still.
“No. Stop. Don't talk, we're not good when we talk.”
You nodded and pulled him back for another kiss, wrapping a hand around his throat and pressing hard as he moaned and groaned into you.
Still wet and slippery and sensitive from your first attempt, neither of you lasted long, falling to the bed when it was all over with a grunt of overexertion.
“That was…” you said, stopping there, for once totally speechless.
“That was good?” He supplied, but just good wasn't enough.
“Yes,” you agreed, though, not willing to let your cunt rule your mind when around him.
Anymore, at least.
“We should… we should probably never speak again,” you said, even as your hand reached out for his, fingers tangling.
“Of course. I'll leave, and we won't ever speak again,” he said, stroking your hand with his thumb, bringing your clasped hands to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your hand.
“You haven't left yet.”
“I haven't.”
“I have nowhere to be tomorrow,” you said. “You don't…”
“I won't leave yet. We might as well enjoy this,” he said, propping himself up on his elbows as he looked over your naked body.
“We should definitely just get this out of our systems now. What's the harm in that?”
“I agree. If we're committing to a one time thing, we might as well go all in.”
“Exactly,” you said.
“Exactly,” he parrotted.
Exactly a year later, the members of the BAU received invitations in the post to your wedding. Because the both of you had convinced yourself that that one time had never ended and never had need to.
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