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pathologicalreid · 4 months ago

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for the fear of falling apart | part one

after hearing her gunpoint confession, your sister pressures you into airing your grievances at Rossi's wedding

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who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: takes place following/during 14x15 "truth or dare", fem!reader, established relationship, mentions roslyn, unresolved conflict, a lot of insecurity, cm violence, i think everyone has a fault in this word count: 2.47k a/n: so this idea popped into my head. i think the concept of spencer dating jj's younger sister is insane and i love it. i hope you like it as well. (i want to write a part two so bad i hate leaving things unresolved). also this is not jj hate that's my girl i loved her even before i loved spencer!!!!

“Please, can you just hear me out?” Your sister pleaded, keeping her voice low so you didn’t take any attention off of the bride and groom.

Bringing your glass to your lips, you shrugged, “I’m not sure this is the right place, Jennifer,” you murmured, looking across the room at your brother-in-law, “I think Will’s looking for you.”

She brushed off your dismissal, “I’ll go over once we figure this out. Let’s go out to the courtyard and talk.”

JJ reached out and gently gripped your elbow, trying to guide you through the French doors of the wedding venue, but you yanked your arm away, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. “It’s rude to leave now, this is a wedding, we’re guests here,” you scolded her, focusing your eyes forward. The ceremony was over, and everyone was mingling, but you refused to be the first to leave. Besides, going home would mean needing to face Spencer – another discussion you didn’t have the energy for.

You knew she hated leaving things unfinished. The both of you could feel the rift between you growing as if the earth was physically shifting beneath your feet. “It would just be for a second,” she urged.

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “It’s fifteen years of dirty laundry, Jayg. It’s going to take more than a second to air it out.” You frowned into your newly emptied glass before hauling yourself over to the bar, grateful that she didn’t follow, “Can you make me one of the pink glittery drinks?”

Penelope, the honorary bartender for the evening, nodded reassuringly, taking an already-made beverage from the counter and sliding it over to you, “You look like you could use it,” she observed.

You sighed in concurrence, “You have no idea,” you mumbled as you brought the glass to your lips. The drink itself was a bit of an abomination, so strong that it burnt your nostrils as it went down, “God, that’s strong.”

The technical analyst just laughed, making her way back to the dance floor to meet up with Luke and Matt. Your gaze flickered over other members of the team until you were met with familiar brown eyes.

There had been a ball of dread forming in your stomach ever since you returned from Los Angeles. From where you were standing now, the cut on your boyfriend’s hand that you had preoccupied yourself with seemed inconsequential. You watched him now, in real-time as he glanced between you and your sister, picking up on the tension as you avoided her.

Someone was bound to snap.

Walking away from the bar, you went out into the hallway, finding the nearest door and practically throwing yourself outside. Pulling your hair off the back of your neck with your free hand, you sat down on a moss-covered bench in the courtyard and waited for the cold night air to cool you off.

As expected, you heard the door behind you click. You couldn’t be bothered to look at who it was, if it was important to them, they’d come to you. Sure enough, you remained focused on your drink as Spencer took a seat on the bench next to you, “Aren’t you cold?”

“Alcohol,” you mumbled, “Keeps me warm.”

Not exactly the answer he was going for, but he took it at face value. He was probably more comfortable in his suit than you were in your dress. “Are you feeling alright?”

You thought about lying to him. Telling him that you were just tired, it had been a long week of watching your sister and boyfriend being held hostage in a pawn shop and hunting Everett Lynch on top of your normal caseload, but the thought of holding up that lie just made you feel worse. Taking a large sip of your drink, you took a deep breath before speaking, “Garcia recovered the audio from the CCTV footage inside of the pawn shop. Emily asked me to review the tapes and let her know if I thought there was anything pertinent that should be added to the case files.”

He didn’t respond for a while, knowing exactly what you were getting at but not sure how to further the conversation, “And did you?”

You lifted your glass again, “There wasn’t anything in the tapes that was necessary for the case. I buried the audio files and transcripts and sealed the file.”

“Thank you,” he said, relief evident in his tone.

You, however, frowned at his response, “’Thank you’?” You repeated, an accusation in your voice, “I was scared shitless while the two of you were in there, and all the while my sister was confessing her love for you.”

Spencer was quiet again, rendered speechless by your words. Your description was accurate, if not blunt.

You sniffled, setting your glass down and wrapping your arms around yourself, “I have never felt more humiliated, and no one else can ever know why.” You traced the cobblestones on the ground with your eyes as thoughts continued racing through your head. “God, is this why she pushed us together?”

The door behind you clicked again and you stiffened, closing your eyes when you heard JJ coming out into the courtyard, “Ducky, we need to talk.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you snapped at her, standing up and glaring at her. Your childhood nickname rang through your ears. A term of endearment given to you by your oldest sister now grated on your heart, shredding through each chamber. “I do not need to do anything,” you told her, narrowing your gaze.

Tears pricked your eyes, Please, JJ, just give me time to think. I just need a minute. Not everything has to be solved right away.

You were too proud to say the words aloud, but you thought it. You wanted to beg her for time. You wanted to plead with your sister for just a little bit of time to think things through.

She held her hands up in surrender, “I needed to tell Pinkner something that would satisfy him. You know the profile; you know what would’ve happened if I didn’t.”

Yes, and the image of both of them being held at gunpoint would haunt you for years to come, but that still didn’t justify any of it, not to you. Finishing off your drink, you set the crystal glass on the cobblestone bench and faced your sister, “Jennifer,” you said sharply, “Truth or dare?”

Her blue eyes widened as she looked between you and Spencer, who was wisely keeping his mouth shut, “Truth,” she answered, her voice so quiet you could barely hear it.

“Did you mean it?” You asked, the first of your tears finally flooding over your lash line.

You gripped the fabric of your dress in your hands as you waited for her answer, “Yes,” she told you.

Covering your face with your hands, you sighed deeply into them, “Fuck,” you cried. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you echoed. None of this made sense to you, JJ was married. JJ and Will were the kind of couple that you could look at and you would know that they belonged together, but now she was saying she had been in love with Spencer this whole time.

White hot tears stung the cold skin on your cheeks as you looked back up at your sister, waiting for her to say something else. “We went on an almost date years ago and nothing else ever came of it. Life just went on moving and we…” Her voice trailed off, either unable to finish her thought or unwilling to share.

“You’re married, JJ,” you said desperately, looking at her and wondering if she had told Will where she was going. “Does Will know? Did you tell him you’ve been stringing him along? Thirteen years in and two kids later?”

She faltered for a moment, and you knew you had hit your mark – it made you sick to your stomach. “No, I love him. I love my boys, you know that.”

You nodded numbly, “Yeah, I do, but I can’t keep going if you’re always going to be longing for what might’ve been.”

“You’re drunk and you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she accused, tapping her right foot anxiously.

JJ might’ve grown up in Roslyn’s shadow, but you grew up in hers. Captain of the varsity soccer team, full-ride athletic scholarship at Pitt, and grad school at Georgetown. All leading up to her joining the bureau at twenty-three. You followed her, believing anywhere was better than Pennsylvania, and this is what it had gotten you. It was exhausting, being the one pushing the boulder up the hill, your hands were scraped, and she couldn’t see it.

Deftly, you wiped at the tears beneath your eyes, “I know exactly what I’m saying. Please, can you try and just look at this from my point of view? My big sister, who I’ve looked up to for my whole life, confessed her feelings for my boyfriend. My boyfriend who she set me up with.” Realization dawned on you, turning to face Spencer, “You were in love with her, and… I’m…” your voice trailed off.

Matching your train of thought, Spencer shook his head, reaching a hand out for yours, but you pulled away from him, “No, honey, please. It’s not like that.”

“You couldn’t have her, and I’m just the next best thing,” you told him miserably. “She met Will and got pregnant and got married and you were so in love with her that you took the off-brand version just to have something.”

Spencer shushed you, watching as tears fell from your cheeks, “I’m with you because I love you, not because of anything else.”

Your chest ached, it felt like someone had thrust their hand in the cavity and was squeezing as tightly as they could. You wanted to believe him. You so, so badly wanted to believe him. “Tell me,” you prompted, “tell me I’m not your second choice.”

“You are not my second choice,” he told you, and you watched. You watched for his tells, any sign at all that he was lying.

You shook your head at him, “Why did you lie to me? About the football game,” you asked him, a semi-permanent frown staying on your face.

He furrowed his brows and stood up in front of you, rubbing your arms up and down to keep you warm, “I didn’t lie to you.”

“You didn’t tell me. Neither of you did. That’s lying by omission, and you both know it,” you said, stepping away from him hesitantly. You didn’t know what to trust; you didn’t know what was real.

Spencer looked back at your sister, but she looked frozen, “It wasn’t a date,” he said simply. “I… I intended for it to be a date, but JJ invited Penelope and that was the end of it. I took it as her not being interested and that’s the truth. Nothing else ever happened between the two of us.”

You watched your sister, her mouth opening and closing as she scrounged for the right thing to say. “I said what I had to in order to survive,” she defended.

Sucking on your back molars, you shrugged helplessly in response, “I know,” you admitted. “I know that you probably planned on taking your truth to the grave with you, but… it’s out, Jayg.”

“I can explain everything to you,” she offered, “Please let me explain, Ducky.”

The desperation in her voice chiseled at your resolve, but it wasn’t enough. “I don’t have it in me,” you admitted. “I’m fresh out of fight and I just wanna go home,” you told her, looking at Spencer who nodded, heading back inside to gather your things.

You sat back down on the bench, propping your chin up on your hand.

“I couldn’t think of anything else to say,” she tried again, her voice gruff from holding back tears.

Shaking your head, you closed your eyes and breathed in the cold winter air, “I don’t really care, JJ. You said it, I heard it, and now you have to deal with it.”

She cleared her throat, “I would deal with it now, but you’re being petulant.”

Looking up at her, you frowned, “I told you inside that I didn’t want to talk about this here. You came outside. You sought me out to talk. Now you’re mad that I’m not being nice about it?” Something new bubbled in your stomach, the pit that had been forming there quickly evolved into anger.

“I was trying to save lives,” she tried again, insisting she was right.

You could live with her being right on that front. She was saving lives, and she needed a truth potent enough to sway the UnSub, but in all of her explanations, she never once apologized about this curveball. “I live with Spencer. I… when I give gifts, they’re signed from the both of us,” you told her. “Sometimes when we can’t sleep at night, we come up with baby names, and you’re in love with him. I asked for time, and you couldn’t give it to me. So, this is what you get.”

With Spencer reappearing at the door, you made your way out of the courtyard, he draped your coat over your shoulders, and you wrapped the wool around yourself as you made your way out. “I told Rossi and Krystall that you were tired, but I think they might have taken it as you had too much to drink,” he explained, opening the passenger side door for the car for you to get in.

A small smile tugged at your throat, “I don’t really care.” Maybe if you had gotten that drunk, your chest wouldn’t hurt so much.

The rest of the ride home was silent, small flurries started floating from the sky, and you watched the way they danced in the streetlights. Once you were home, you got ready for bed, grabbing a pillow off of your bed, and turning to the door, “Where are you going?” Spencer asked, returning from brushing his teeth.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch,” you told him softly, looking at the pillow that you were clutching in your arms.

He faltered for a moment, obviously taken aback by your decision, “Can we talk tomorrow?”

You frowned, letting your eyes lift to his, when it was dark, his eyes took on a certain kind of melancholia. It hurt to look at tonight. “Sure,” you offered weakly, turning around and heading for the couch.

“Are we gonna be okay?” He asked, fear creeping into his voice. Fear of losing you.

Glancing back at him as you lobbed the pillow on the couch, you gave him a gentle smile, “Yeah, Spence, we’ll figure it out. Just not tonight, okay?”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #jennifer jareau #jareau!reader #written by margot #ffofa

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bueckers · 3 months ago

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UNFINISHED BUSINESS ━━━ paige bueckers

i don’t wanna fight, but you got the wrong vibes. let me get you right, it’s how i apologize. ✶

synopsis: she broke it off, but has since had a hard time leaving her alone… especially when having to see her in person.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem oc

warnings: smut with plot, p eating ( p is literally EATING ), fingering, thigh riding, and slight angst.

notes: this is ridiculously long. in honor of her fit here, enjoy.. i loved writing this almost as much as i love the song lol. lmk if i should make a part two or maybe a series!

Nervous, excited, and borderline bald from tugging at my hair—these were all the things I had felt the moment I stepped into the WNBA 2024 All-Star Game.

I would be seeing Paige tonight. Paige would be seeing me tonight. Paige knew I knew she would be seeing me tonight, and I knew Paige knew she would be seeing me tonight.

When Paige and I first started hooking up, it was never supposed to be anything serious. She was sidelined with a torn ACL, and I knew she was in a dark place, struggling with everything that came with being forced off the court. I think that’s why it started, honestly. She needed an escape, something to make her forget for a little while, and I was there.

Paige and I have known of each other for years, though. We both came up in the basketball world at the same time, our names being tossed around in the same circles since high school. We’d cross paths at AAU tournaments and national showcases, always on different teams but always aware of each other.

Back then, our support for each other was more from a distance, and it wasn’t until college that things started to shift. We crossed paths more often, whether it was at games, media events. The rivalry between our schools added a new layer to our interactions, but by then, we had leveled up from distant competitors to something more like casual friends.

Those moments were what led us to where we eventually ended up. The more we talked, the more we realized how much we actually had in common—our experiences, our struggles, the pressure to perform, and the constant scrutiny. It felt natural, easy, to let our guard down with each other, which is why when her injury happened and everything else in her life felt like it was falling apart, I wasn’t surprised when we fell into it.

We had an agreement. Not one that was ever talked about soberly, but the way it happened just fell into place so perfectly that we didn’t need to. We’d meet up when it was needed, no commitments, no expectations. Just two people finding comfort in each other, filling a void that we couldn’t fill on our own. It was convenient, effortless, and most importantly, it worked for the both of us. I guess I figured if I kept things casual, I wouldn’t get caught up in something messy. I didn’t want to be the one to complicate her life even more.

We’d cross paths after games, during off-season, or whenever our schedules aligned, slipping into each other’s lives for a few hours at a time. She knew how to keep me at arm’s length, just close enough to keep me coming back but far enough to never let me in too deep. She knew exactly how to make me feel needed without ever giving too much of herself away. It was maddening, really—how she could be so vulnerable one minute, showing me sides of herself that no one else got to see, and then switch off just as quickly.

The more we hooked up, the more I started to realize I was getting too close. I could see it in the way she’d look at me sometimes, like she knew I was starting to care too much. And the worst part was, she didn’t seem to mind pushing me right to that edge. She’d say something that made my heart race, or she’d touch me in a way that felt like it meant something, only to pull back and remind me of our status. She was always in control, always the one with the upper hand, and I hated how easily I let her have it.

And then it was all done. She cut things off with a cold finality that I still can’t even believe. No explanation, no soft letdown—just a sudden, brutal end. It was like she knew exactly when I’d reached that point and she didn’t hesitate to remind me that it was never supposed to mean anything at all.

“I’m gonna go grab some snacks, alright? Try to look a little more happy for the jumbotron,” JuJu teases, getting up from her seat. I gasped, barely having any time to process her insult as she scooted between me to get to the stadium stairs.

“Very funny,” I muttered, watching her walk away.

Alone now, I focused on the game, doing an extremely good job at hiding the gnawing in my chest. I’d say I have a good poker face, but Paige would agree to disagree. My phone buzzed, jolting me from my thoughts. It was her and she’d finally found you. She was on the other side of the arena, clearly getting a kick out of having you in her view.

you mad at me or just deep in thought?

I rolled my eyes back to the deep depths of hell. Another text from her.

you look good tonight

you too. how’s the game?

As soon as I hit send, I regret it. I should have ignored her. I should have said something snarky.

Her reply comes almost immediately.

could be better. thought about coming over

what stopped you?

You watched her text bubble practically stutter, making you quirk an eyebrow.

juju. i didn’t wanna make it awkward.

lol. okay.

actually, scratch that. leave w me.

I shifted in my seat, my hands suddenly clutching my phone a little tighter.

paige, no.

why not?

I shut off my phone just in time for JuJu’s return, watching as she squeezed through mounds of people to get back to me. She handed me a cherry slurpee, which would however be gone in ten minutes.

“Thanks, sugar,” you teased her, wrapping your lips around the straw and taking a nice, long sip. She shook her head at me as she focused on the game again, nachos in hand. Ping.

Tell her don’t get too comfortable 😂

I could even feel her eyes boring into me from the other side. I could picture the stupid smirk or gummy smile she’d have. I turned my ringer off and silenced Paige’s notifications before slipping my phone into my back pocket and reverting my attention back to the game. It’s almost over.

Fast forward to the final buzzer, and Juju and I made our way down to the court, weaving through the crowd of fans and players. I always loved the energy in a room of women’s basketball players and fans— there were always a million things going on at once. As we reached the court, we spotted Caitlin, who was already deep in conversation with a couple of other players.

“Great game, Cait,” I said, pulling her into a light hug. “Guess nobody busts your butt as good as SC, huh?” I pulled back first, resting my hands on my hips. I could say I’ve known Caitlin as long as I have Paige, but Cait doesn’t know me the way Paige does.

Caitlin laughed, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah, Miss Championship. but don’t get too cocky now.”

Juju laughed alongside me, adding a quick comment about how USC would give her a run for her money next time. The conversation flowed easily, a mix of post-game analysis and friendly banter. I scanned the court for a brief moment, knowing exactly who I was looking for.

Sure enough, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Flau’jae and Paige making their way over. I braced myself, knowing the cameras would be all over this reunion, and the media would have a field day with it. Paige looked as confident as ever, her stride always one that grabbed attention.

“Hey, y’all,” Paige said, her voice smooth, effortless. She exchanged hugs and high-fives with everyone, her presence commanding attention as always. When she reached me, she didn’t hesitate to pull me into a hug, her hand resting on my hip before snaking around to my lower back.

And then I felt it—her hand slipping lower, fingers grazing the fabric of my mini skirt. I could hear the smirk in her voice as she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. “Good to see you.” Just close enough to keep me coming back.

I pulled back slightly, meeting her eyes. There was that smirk. My heart was pounding, a mix of frustration and something else I didn’t want to acknowledge. “You too,” I managed, keeping my tone as neutral as possible, pulling back with a tight-lipped grin that looked friendly enough to anyone who didn’t know what was going on. Which was everyone.

The group continued chatting, oblivious, obviously. You’d found out the one thing you hated about being around Paige was the overwhelming current of being the only ones in the room who knew how each other was feeling. Paige, ever the actor, kept up her usual easygoing demeanor, but I could feel her gaze on me, like she was waiting for something. I tried to focus on the conversation, but it was impossible with her so close, the warmth of her hand still lingering on my skin.

When the small talk finally wound down, and the others started drifting away, Paige moved closer, her eyes locked on mine. She leaned in again, her voice low, almost a whisper. “C’mon. Meet me,” she coaxed, her breath warm against my ear. Her fingers brushed lightly against my side, tracing a path.

I hesitated, the resolve I’d built up over the past hour crumbling under the weight of her presence. She was testing me, pushing every button she knew she could. And damn it, it was working.

I finally nodded, barely audible. “Okay.”

It was all she needed. A single, one-word confirmation that I wanted her as bad as she does. She took my phone out of my pocket for me, placing it my hand as she said her goodbyes to everyone else, leaving me there. I suppose it was smarter for her to do that anyway.

Shortly after Paige’s departure, I made my way out as well. JuJu wasn’t a tough barrier to get past. I told her to finish up her conversations, and that I’d see her back at the hotel. I wasn’t quite show how long my excuse would suffice, but I hoped she’d find her way to the bar or something after.

I don’t know why I listened. Watched my fingers click on her contact and give the driver her hotel’s address. It was like I was compelled from the moment she’d touched me, and to be honest, I don’t think I’d be surprised if that was the case.

The Uber ride felt interminable, each passing moment only heightening the anticipation and anxiety. I could barely focus on the city lights flashing by outside, my mind consumed with the impending confrontation and whatever would follow.

Finally, I was able to make my way to her room, feeling the cool air of the hallway against my skin as I knocked on the door. When Paige answered, her smile was as infuriatingly charming as ever, and she pulled me inside with a warm, yet testing glint in her eye.

The moment the door clicked shut behind us, Paige’s demeanor shifted. Before I could voice any protest, her lips were on mine, kissing me with an urgency that made my heart race. I barely had time to process the sudden change before she deepened the kiss, her hands roaming possessively over my back.

I tried to pull away, my mind still reeling from the fact that I was even here, but her grip tightened, pulling me closer. “Paige,” I murmured against her lips, trying to catch my breath. “We need to talk—” but as much as I tried to voice it, I knew that isn’t what we both really planned to do.

She silenced me with another intense kiss, her fingers tangling in my hair, guiding my head to tilt for better access. Her touch was relentless, her body pressing against mine with all the need in her body. “I don’t wanna fight,” she whispered between kisses, her breath hot and heavy against my skin. “Jus’ wanna be close to you.” She breathed in my scent, and I melted.

The words were almost lost in the heated moment, but I could feel the sincerity. She pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, her gaze smoldering with an intensity that made me rethink actually standing on business. She waited, trying to see if I was really against this. I licked my lips, glancing at hers.

I didn’t stand a chance.

Her lips found mine again, and the world narrowed to the press of our bodies. Our kisses were feverish and desperate, each touch holding some type of meaning. Paige’s hands roamed over my skin like there were so many options in a candy store and she couldn’t pick just one. In this case, one spot to focus on. Her mouth trailed down my collarbone, leaving a path of pinkish marks.

Our bodies were pressed together and refusing to let go. Paige guided me towards the bed, her hands never leaving my body, her lips continuing their assault on my skin. When she finally lowered me onto the bed, I was needy and breathless and finally feeling a little more realistic.

“P, I’m still mad,” I tried to insist, though my voice wavered as I watched her begin to undress. She unzipped her Nike vest slowly, the sound of the fabric sliding down her body making my pulse quicken. It fell to the floor, and she ripped off her shirt with a sudden, breathless intensity, revealing her sports bra. The sight of her, partially unclothed and vulnerable in front of me again left me speechless.

“I know,” she murmurs, her head slightly tilted as she looked at me all-knowingly. “And ima’ make it up to you, I promise. Just let me get you right.” Her fingers trailed up my bare legs, eliciting a small gasp from my lips. She tugged at the hem of my skirt, pulling the fabric down and grabbing my panties in the process. I watched her do it, in utter disbelief that this was how I was spending my night.

Her fingers graze teasingly against my kneecaps, sending shivers through my body, before she gently but firmly peels my legs apart. I look down at her. “You’re just trying to distract me,” I say, but there’s no heat behind the words.

Paige smirks, a knowing look in her eyes as she falls to her knees, her hands sliding over my thighs. “Maybe,” she admits, her voice dropping into a low, sultry tone as she tucks her lip between her teeth. “But you can’t say you don’t want this too.”

She’s right, and we both know it. The way she’s touching me, the way her eyes are locked onto mine with that look. The same one that knows she’s getting her way tonight. My worries seem so distant now, nothing more than a whisper of irritation in the back of my mind, easily drowned out by the way Paige’s hands are moving.

I begin to say something, but she easily cuts me off by diving into me with no warning, immediately humming against my cunt in satisfaction. Her eyebrows were furrowed as her tongue made some deliberate strokes, seemingly in disbelief of the way I tasted. She looks up at me as she delves in, a sight beautiful enough for the Louvre but way too sinful.

She says something I can’t hear, but I do catch a, “Can’t leave you alone, ever. Fuck.”

“Yeah?” I muster out, my breath a careless whisper.

Paige smiles against me, loving the cocky tone in my voice as she responds with a fast nod, the movement making me gasp. “Yeah.”

From there, every moan and gasp from me seems to fuel her desire, making her work even harder to drive me wild. Her hands grip my hips firmly, keeping me in place as her mouth and tongue continue their relentless assault. In the haze of ecstasy, all I can focus on is the feeling of her between my legs, making good on her promise to get me right, leaving me utterly consumed by the pleasure she’s giving.

I come, loud enough that the neighbors might know Paige’s name, but she keeps going. It becomes too much, enough for me to whine and pull away, scooting a little bit higher on the bed. She isn’t going for it, though, and immediately brings me back to her mouth, wrapping my legs in her thick arms.

“Where you tryna’ go, princess?” she teases. The sensation of her mouth and fingers on me is so intoxicating that I can barely respond before she pulls back entirely, rising to her feet. She begins to peel off her pants, her movements slow, leaving me breathless and frustrated.

“Seriously?” I complain.

“Chill,” she responds with a husky chuckle, towering over me in the sexiest way explainable. It’s like she contemplates something in her head for a moment, leaving me dripping wet and needy before her.

Finally, Paige steps closer, her hands sliding down to her sports bra. With a teasing glance, she pulls it off, revealing her bare chest. My eyes widen as I take in her form, unable to tear my gaze away. She then sits back down, positioning herself comfortably on the edge of the bed. “Want you to get on my thigh, baby, m’kay?” And there was no room for argument.

I crawl toward her, a mixture of urgency and anticipation in my movements. Once I’m seated on her thigh, I start to ride it slowly, the friction sending waves of pleasure through me. I truly can’t believe we haven’t done this before. The way she flexes, the way I can feel her muscle.. it’s all too much.

I roll my head back, needing more. My hands find Paige’s boxers, slipping into them with ease as she watches, her eyes moving more than her actual head. My fingers find their way to her core, exploring.

Paige’s breath hitches, her fingers gripping my hip as she watches me intently. “You like that, don’t you?” she breathes, her voice filled with a mixture of desire and all things Paige. “You’ve got me exactly where you want me.”

I stare at her. My body and arm moving repeatedly, my hair a bit puffy at this rate, and a panting mess. Paige raises her thumb to my plump and parted lips, slipping it in. I moan out, forced to suck around it as I squeeze my eyes shut.

Paige is in a trance, completely focused on the warmth around her thumb and how your small fingers disappear into her. “So, so, so good. Love seeing you above me, baby. So pretty.” I couldn’t understand how she could say things like these, and happen to not mean them, but it was the last thing on my mind.

“Mfmfmm, I’m gonna come. Again.”

Paige’s response is a series of breathy moans, her hands gripping my hips tightly as she keeps me pressed down, every thrust and touch pushing us both closer to the edge.

As she finally shudders, her release crashes over her like a tidal wave, her body trembling violently. The sensation of her coming around my fingers makes my own climax come shortly after. I cry out, my own pleasure peaking as I grind against her, my fingers thrusting in and out.

Our combined releases feel explosive, a storm of heat and passion that has us both gasping and moaning. I feel her tremors against my fingers as I continue to move, riding out the last waves of ecstasy before finally collapsing against her, both of us spent and tangled together in a sated, sweaty mess.

I think I’ll regret this in the morning. But right now? I’ve never been happier.

#bueckers’ works 🍒#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #lgbtq #Spotify

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graysoncritic · 6 months ago

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A (Negative) Analysis of Tom Taylor's Nightwing Run - Introduction

Introduction Who is Dick Grayson? What Went Wrong? Dick's Characterization What Went Wrong? Barbara Gordon What Went Wrong? Bludhaven (Part 1, Part 2) What Went Wrong? Melinda Lin Grayson What Went Wrong? Bea Bennett What Went Wrong? Villains Conclusion Bibliography

I want to start this essay by admitting I’m actually embarrassed by its length. Why did I spend so much time on something I dislike? The truth is, I did not begin this with the intention of creating such an extensive, formal study of the Tom Taylor and Bruno Redondo’s Nightwing run and how it reflects the wider problems with DC’s handling of one of their most iconic characters. I was just trying to organize the thoughts that came up during discussions with other Dick Grayson fans. Before I knew it, I had enough material, enough desire to challenge myself, and enough frustrations to vent to properly create this monstrosity.

I did not begin this Nightwing run determined to hate it. In fact, I was ready to love it. As Taylor promoted the run before the first issue was officially released, I was so excited for it. As I read short interviews where he discussed Heartless, I could not wait to have a new, incredible villain. Foolishly, I believed Taylor when he said he loved Dick Grayson.

Needless to say, I was disappointed. Then frustrated. Then angry. The beginning of any story is a period where writer and reader form an indirect bond, and as the story progresses, so do the highs and the lows of said relationship. As such, a reader’s tolerance for negative factors will either increase or decrease depending on their experience up until that point.

In other words, if the writer fails to earn the reader’s trust and instead takes their attention for granted, even seemingly insignificant details become irritating in a way they would not be if presented in a better story. In such scenarios, the reader can no longer overlook those minor moments because there’s little good to balance them out with. It is a death by a thousand cuts.

In the case of Taylor and Redondo’s run, along with those thousand cuts are also broken bones, internal bleeding, head trauma, and severed limbs. A weak plot, simplistic morality that undermines the story’s stated themes, and, most importantly, a careless disregard for Dick Grayson and everything he stands for utterly destroyed my enjoyment of this series.

It is still too early to tell what sort of impact Taylor’s (as of time of writing, still unfinished) run will have on Dick Grayson’s future portrayals. But just because we cannot predict its long term significance, it does not mean we cannot critique it. Currently, we simply lack the benefit of hindsight.

If this essay were to have a thesis, then it is this: Tom Taylor and Bruno Redondo’s Nightwing not only fails to tell a compelling Nightwing story, but it also exemplifies a cynical, self-serving, and shallow approach to storytelling that prioritizes creating hollow viral moments to boost the creators’ own online popularity over crafting a good story, honoring the character in their care, and respecting his fans – fans who have, historically, often been women, queer folk, and other individuals who felt othered by a cisheteronormative patriarchal society. Taylor and Redondo’s thoughtless and superficial narrative not only undermine the socially progressive ideals they supposedly care for by propagating a cisheteronormative patriarchal worldview, but they also demonstrate a lack of love and understanding for the character in their care. At best, Taylor and Redondo have no interest in getting to know Dick Grayson, nor any respect for their predecessor and their contributions to this character. At worst, they despise Dick so much that they wish to reinvent him into something completely different, tossing away everything that was special to his fans in order to appeal to a readership that never cared about Dick Grayson.

I structured this essay so that, hopefully, each part will build on the ones that came prior. Naturally, because all aspects of a story are interlaced, there will be overlaps between each of the sections. As it may have become obvious from this introduction, I’ll be focusing primarily on the writing of this run. That is not to say that I will not address the art, but writing is the field I know most about, and so it feels only fair to focus my critique on that.

I hope that by the end of this essay, I will have successfully proved that this run’s mishandling of different narrative elements betray a cynical appropriation of progressive ideology and a disregard and disinterest in what makes Dick Grayson so special to so many people. This is an attitude that is present within DC Comics’ current ethos as a whole.

Now, who is this essay for? Honestly, it’s probably not for Tom Taylor fans. I do not believe I’ll be persuading anyone with my writing, and, to be quite honest, neither would I say I wish to do so. Taylor and Redondo’s run has won numerous awards and has many dedicated fans who adore it for what it is. If that is you, then I’m glad. I wish I could be among your numbers. I wish more than anything that I could love this story. But I do not, and I know many others agree with me, and it is to them, I think, that I’m speaking to. As Taylor’s run is praised to heaven and back, I needed a safe space to voice my thoughts. This essay became this safe space. And to others who also feel unseen by the constant praise this run is getting, I think this could speak to you, as well. To be cliche and cringe, this will hopefully let you know that you are not alone.

Finally, I want to acknowledge some people whose thoughts greatly contributed to the creation of this essay. For around three years now I’ve been having wonderful interactions with other Dick Grayson’s fans, and those discussions were not only incredibly fun and cathartic, but also provided great insight into what needed to be included in this essay. My best friend especially gave me a space to vent when I got frustrated, and my original outline borrowed a lot from the messages I sent her, as well as notes I took for our discussions.

I’ll also be directly quoting four different Dick Grayson fans (identified as Dick Grayson Fans A, B, and C in order to allow them to keep their anonymity). Their analyses were so critical to the formation of my thesis and for a lot of what will be addressed in this essay that I actually feel like they deserve co-credit in this essay. Dick Grayson Fan B especially deserves a shoutout in helping me track down a couple of pages used as supporting evidence, as I knew what pages I was looking for but was having a hard time remembering in which issue they were located. I’m quoting them with permission, and crediting their ideas and contributions whenever relevant.

Now, without any further ado, let’s get started.

#nightwing #dick grayson #anti tom taylor

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duckimate · 7 months ago

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GRUMBO WEEK DAY 3 - " Nightmare " @grumboweek

"read more" at your own discretion. messy+wordy explanation of the concept coming:) .

pardon me for being late but i really couldn't stand leaving this looking unfinished so. had to spend a bittt more time on it (might even post for grumbo week even after the event's over if thats okay!!)

we all got over the progression from their friendship to their betrayal of eachother in Last Life too soon. i need people to mourn with me

"Nightmare" made my mind immediately jump to the series that waffle duo really got their share of angst from, Last Life. How an unbreakable bond of friendship strengthened by literally passing eachother something as valuable as a life so quickly crumbled into them both betraying eachother in the end, a Nightmare scenario that the two of them would've never even considered for sure. even grian, who upon turning red was still clinging onto the hope that their bond was so strong that mumbo would join him as a redname. (concept) even red mumbo, who in his last ditch desperation tried reigniting post-red yellow life grian's humanity by giving him the spyglass, the southlander's physical embodiment of their friendship, only for grian to crush it mercilessly ,,,,,,,,,

anyway for this piece i tried real hard to cram in as much symbolism and imagery and intent behind my lines and colors as possible, so heres some of it! (theres more but thats on you to figure out!)

Composition + just some of the details : the main concept that i really wanted to drive home is the use of the SPYGLASS as symbolism for the progression of their bond throughout Last life, up until the end. yellow-side grian holds up a spyglass, looking towards the right

day4 past and future concepts ahead the spyglass extends through the past to the present, like a solid line of sight into the future before its unfortunately crushed by red-side grian (him shutting down any friendship or reconciliation from mumbo) mumbo, back against the future, faced twoards the past, reaching his spyglass out looking for who his friend was, only to see a cracked figure of him staring back grian, faced towards the future in both drawings, but also looking back at mumbo, with different emotions but both with the same desire to move forward, one with adoration and another with the desire to move on from mumbo's dead body and focus on self-preservation. he knew he had to move on, and he was right.

SOUTHLANDERS BADGE: mostly for visual interest! but also unlike the spyglass, is an unremovable physical reminder for post-red grian (literally lodged deep into his shoulder)

CLIPPED WINGS: i felt like i had to mention that they're supposed to look clipped in the second drawing:) "HE NEEDS TO LEARN" was a real quote that was directed at both jimmy and mumbo, but we gotta adapt pfft ,,, this post is long. LOng long. i should stop. special SPECIAL thanks to my dearest @justrelaxhere for their hours worth of dissection of my drawing! god i could always count on them to squeeze every drop of symbolism out of my work. without them i wouldn'tve been able to fully articulate my ideas! okay thanks for reading people:D

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acid-ixx · 10 days ago

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They aren't finished but I wanted to give you these! They're all WIPS so so far. Some are a bit older and you can tell what the newer ones are that I just made right now.

Thank you for posting a new chapter. It was an amazing read and I just loved it so much! Still trying to find those song references 😂

chapter spoilers and drafts (again &. again)

— masterlist ! ; chapter 4 ; ash's commisions

OH MY GOD THIS IS SUCH A BLESSING??? BANGER AFTER BANGER AFTER BANGER I SWEAR 💞

ash, you have always provided my little fanbase for my series so much food for thought, this is absolutely beautiful in every way. i literally don't care if they're wips or unfinished because either way you always make do with what i write, descriptive or not. i love your artstyle and how soft you draw the mc and how handsome conner is (i literally showed your art off to all my friends). you're so talented and i wish to reciprocate all the efforts you've done for this series 😭

i'm serious. from your portrayal of the mc, to them flying with conner, you never once disappoint anyone.

because of this, i'd like to leak some parts of my story from chapter five and beyond 💕! thank you so much for this, and i hope my yapping below suffices.

major spoilers below the cut!

the graduation photo! i have something planned with that, and i'd delve so much deeper (soon) with just how much a single photo can influence bruce's line of thought once he discovers that picture frame. love how happy mc is in the photo because, for me, it symbolizes them growing up (quite literally) and acknowledging a new path in life, alongside only finding alfred as their only father figure compared to bruce.

you consider yourself reserved, and prefer your life living within the confines of privacy and protection from media exposure. your mother always told you: better safe than sorry once; right after you've asked her about why you can't seem to find personal information about your father when she helped you search him up occasionally.

all the questions you ask her about the lack of your father's preferences — because you merely wanted to know more about him beyond the stories she told you! — she rebutted with a soft smile, a kiss on your head, and an explanation.

she'd warn you about the dangers of media exposure, about how your father and her prefer to keep their relationship a secret, and how too much cameras and paparazzi flashes can blind you.

she said that someone's perception of another person could be ruined once their deepest secrets are revealed. that's why your papa isn't seen beyond the doors of the manor he resides in; because people are attracted to mystery and allure.

hence why she'd restricted you from the usage of any devices within your household during your childhood, other than the excuse of having no money to afford it.

and you always abide by that principle of secrecy; especially right after alfred had saved you from... whatever happened years ago in elementary. from when that man... no, those men knew about your identity...

so, safe to say you were an introvert, at least when it comes to social media. the concept of the fear of missing out never once rattled your brain, no matter how anxious you are whenever you're with your friends; scared that you wouldn't fit in. but they never cared and accepted you with open arms, so it doesn't really matter, no?

you're safe now that you're at metropolis.

and like she always said, better safe than sorry! keep it within you and never out!

so why?

why is it just right after you've opened your twitter app— why is it that your face is plastered all across news accounts?

anyways, the second and third images are so romantic!!! and cute, and cured my depression i swear. i showed this to my one friend and she told me that conner's hand size compared to mc's is straight up hot, and i agree! i love the hand placement, and the way conner holds the mc so softly! yes, i too, would love to touch his man-tits beyond his impeccably tight shirt and play with his hands!

and the cute little panel with him squishing their face and desire their confirmation that, they do, in fact, think they're hot. he's a very insecure man after all, and his self-worth would revolve around your perception of him. he doesn't see you as god, but he doesnt see you as his everything. every opinion matters from you, and that's what makes the green flag part about him.

fun fact about him in the series! he loves to moisturize his hands with lots of skin care products because he read from an article once that some people prefer the feel of soft or moisturized hands. he definitely did not wait for the moment for you to touch him for the first time in forever since he first saw you! yeah, he's a bit more freaky than i let him out to be. the more you're exposed to him, the more you'll learn just how obsessed he is.

as for all the people asking if i'd write more about him: the answer is yes! he's a vital character, so don't worry because he'll appear in many scenes either way. for those concerned about why he didn't save the mc— well, chapter five will explain soon 🩷

and this art perfectly portrays it! it's seen from an outside perspective and they look very pretty, yet from what they see with their eyes is a different thing. the longer you stare at yourself, the more your image is distorted. i intentionally added the flower analogy because flowers are portrayed as pretty, no matter the size and shape. even as they wilt or sag, they still retain some color and a semblance of what was once a history of their prime.

then lastly! the mirror scene. it all returns to chapter three, chapter four was a sequel of their breakdown containing mirrors. reflections and the perception of one self is an important aspect of my series because it reminds me of myself, so them nit-picking each and every insecurity whilst staring at the mirror; that's a scene i wrote based off of a real life experience of mine. having both attractive parents, or those acknowledged as conventionally pretty, whilst being in an environment filled with as equally smart or attractive people, comparing yourself to them all the time, is a struggle.

the only way to make flowers 'ugly' is by destroying them, by stepping on them, ripping them apart, never once caring for them. i think that's very crucial because people do see anything destroyed or stripped away from its foundation a mess, or so. but there's always beauty in everything and i abide by that thought!

again, thank you so much ash for drawing this and bringing my story to life! you, alongside many other users who send in their fanarts, are always such an inspiration for me to write! you guys are the backbone of my series and i stand by my sentence!!! may you get plenty of commissions and plenty of money to support you <333

also, the FLOWER BOTTLE AND THE CAT PAW REFERENCE! i love how everyone accepts that we have a canon cat now based solely off of this. i think that's precious, and having a feline pet is a great little choice for my own plot (just to lessen the pain of the angst).

i hope you enjoyed this little mess rant!

(as for the songs, don't worry, the lyrics become more prevalent for chapter five! chapter four doesn't have any explicit lyrics contained in them, only implications.)

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alreadyblondenow · 2 months ago

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▸ Assassin Jaehyun x Assassin Female reader ▸ Smut, Smut, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Gore, MATURE ▸ JAEHYUN SMUT SERIES: FUCK, MARRY, KILL ▸ VOLUME I: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3 ▸ VOLUME II: PART 1, PART2

Summary: A new life without being an assassin. A chance to run away and forgive. A chance to do it all again and not fuck it up. How can Jaehyun protect you from his world now?

WORD COUNT: 7,000K

Warnings: THIS FIC IS FICTION ONLY, Smut, smut, smut, MATURE THEMES, Heavy description of killings because most of the characters are assassins, mentions of blood, character death, A LOT OF NCT MEMBERS WILL D WORD IN THIS FIC, unprotected sex, mentions of condoms, mentions of pill, pregnancy, swearing, mentions of alcohol. HEAVY CHEATING, FICTONAL MURDER, CAR CRASH, Not everything is proofread, apologies again. I hope I did not forget anything. PLEASE !!! DON'T READ IF IN ANY WAY YOU WILL BE UNCOMFORTABLE.

A/N: This is the fluffiest part of the series. The part 2 will have the gore and other shit heheheheheee. Thank you so much for waiting for Volume II ! I know how its so ugly to wait for an unfinished fic but I am doing my best huhu I'm sorry. I would like to mention that I changed the story, so if you read the teaser for FMK, I CHANGED THE PLOT A LOT SO - THANK YOU FOR YOUR UNDERSTANDING

If a person really loves you, they will have a hard time choosing whether to stay and fight for the relationship or just let you go because it's what you want. It’s between respect and what you want.

Jaehyun wanted to lock you inside this apartment. He was planning to keep you like a thing that he loves for safe keeping. He wanted to make you stay, and not give you a choice anymore. He wanted to own you. He didn’t want to let you go. You’re not leaving his life. Not now. Not ever.

That’s what Jaehyun wants.

But Jaehyun loves you, that’s why he did not chose what he wanted to do. Jaehyun indeed loves you. You can see it in his eyes. Now that you’ve finally broke your silence and told him that you wanted to leave. And not just leave this place… you we’re talking about leaving his life. This life. For good.

He was silent. He didn’t know what to say. But you can see in his eyes, he’s hurt. He even turned his back against you because he didn’t want you to see him cry. It’s not that this relationship grew out of love, but love was the problem all along. You and Jaehyun have this love for each other but life is doing it’s best to stop you two from pouring it.

At this moment, Jaehyun is so frustrated, thinking about the time where it all started. Where did everything went down hill?

Hendery?

His father’s death?

Mark’s death?

“I know you’re deep into thinking right now” you disturbed his thoughts, sobbing, and struggling to speak for yourself but you have to. “But I have respect to you Jaehyun, until this very end, I need you to let go of me. Were tired of fighting, I can feel it. I’ll leave once you approved or accept that this is our end” you said and left the room.

For Jaehyun hearing those words from you hurt. He wanted to hold you, stop you and grasp for every love that you have left for him. But he couldn’t. He was like a stone, he looked heartless on the outside for making you leave the room, but on the inside he was burning with want to make you stay.

For three days, you waited patiently for his decision. And in those three days, Jaehyun was just gone. He wasn’t working, he didn’t attend any meetings, gone. Just gone. You packed your things as slowly as you can just so you could keep your calm composure.

And by the time he finally arrived, you knew that the day was today. You will finally leave and will be granted freedom.

“I’m not going to try and win you back im not going to beg for you to stay. I want you to stay… but that’s not what you want “

He looked calm now you thought. He looked so tensed, mad and hurt the last time you were on the same room.

“But at least give me the chance to let you go properly in the way you deserved. Its the least I could do”

In the days he was gone, he did his best to think straight. He did his best to understand your part, why you want to leave and what good is this going to give you both? But to every question he asks himself, all answers just ends up putting you in good position. He can imagine you with a good life, perhaps leaving his life will give the peace he can’t give you. And besides… having a peaceful life was all you ever dreamed of. He has already become the villain in your life he can’t continue to do that.

You allowed him to help you pack.

You allowed him to drive you to your new place.

You noticed he still wears his ring.

You thought that this day would be awful, heavy and full of tears. But you can see right through Jaehyun that he made sure not to give you a hard time especially today.

“Hmm the place is small are you sure you dont want a bigger one?” You just gave him a look and shook your head no.

Surprisingly Jaehyun looked like a normal person today. He still wears black though, all his tattoos are covered with thick clothing at least you get to see him like this one last time. Like a normal person. One without blood in his hands.

While you two were busy unloading your stuff, it was obvious that Jaehyun was taking his sweet time with you, he doesn’t normally move so slow like this, he even checked every inch of your new place and made sure you were safe. If you’re being honest… you’d kill to make time slower for this specific day.

But after eating quietly at your empty living room floor, it snowed and the room became colder than it already is.

“Jaehyun I want to thank you for today,”he nods his head, looking at you straight in the eye while listening to every word you say, “You know where I live now. But please I hope you keep your word. Let me go” you just said that to avoid him spying on you. Who knows?

He just nods.

“I hope you get to have warm nights now that I’m out of your life” Jaehyun said before finishing his beer.

“Im off now” He said with a cold tone.

That night. You watched him get in his black car without even making a second look to you. He started driving the moment the car was ready to go.

For almost 2 decades of being together. For the love you thought no one could ruin…. Everything went back to square one, on this cold and quiet day.

A year later

Who would have thought that living a decent and innocent life would be something… so challenging.

Challenging because now you realize killing someone just because you can… is not normal. It’s necessary and it can be avoided.

You found a decent job at the library and youre a part timer at a convenience store… everything felt normal. You love it. Even if its boring.

“Well… you’ve been an assassin for far too long” Yuta laughs through the phone, “you should practice self reflection and do some meditating perhaps it could help you” Yuta suggests.

“Hows Taeyong? Is the baking classes paying off?” You asked.

“Yeah, surprisingly he bakes really good. But the guy is a perfectionist… nothing he makes make him happy”

“Well tell him he’s doing a good job already”

After that sweet call with your friend, you headed to your second job, a convenience store not too far from your place. It’s already 9PM, the person before your shift should be ready to head out. The job is kinda lonely, late hours can be so boring, but you figured its quiet. Plus you can eat peacefully, that’s what matters. Now that you’re alone, eating peacefully with the food you made while looking at the window and watch the snow fall…

You remember the night you and Jaehyun parted ways. You haven’t thought much about him. Youre lucky moving out goes hand in hand with moving on… but are you moved on officially?

Everyday, you come home and congratulate yourself for having a kind of life like this. A peaceful and quiet life.

And everyday… you can’t help but think about sharing this kind of life with Jaehyun. Will he like it too?

As you prepare to go to bed, it was a really cold night and you wanted to make sure you’re well rested by the morning comes. But just before you close your eyes, a loud bang at your gate woke every bit of you.

You got a kitchen knife just to sure, funny how not being an assassin for a year can wake every instinct and skill you have with just a loud bang.

By the time you open it, you were quick to point the knife to the person banging at your gate in this ungodly hour.

It was Jaehyun. Covered in blood.

He smiled before he could even speak a word and fell into your arms. Helplessly.

You carried him inside and took care of him.

He lost a lot of blood already but you knew better, of course you can’t call the hospital or the police. “Fuck Jaehyun what am I supposed to do?” But you come your senses and just did whatever you can.

You removed the bullets, stitched him up, cleaned him and made sure that he’s not in pain. Of course… he never removed his wedding ring.

When the sun came out, you went out to see his car and parked it inside. It was full of bullet holes and it seems like he really got lucky last night.

He slept the whole day, it was already sunset when he woke up. He saw you sleeping beside him and didn’t even have second thoughts about hugging you even though every part of him hurt.

“What the fuck happened?” You asked gently.

He can clearly remember how you held a knife on his neck the night he arrived. He just smiled. “Still an assassin, you still got it” he teased you.

“That was just for protection you idiot— answer me what happened”

“Well, a business meeting did not end well, what’s new?” He smirked as if he didn’t just almost died.

“You need hospital by the way… can I call someone to pick you up?” You asked with concern.

“So eager to get rid of me huh?”

“No Jaehyun. I don’t know how to keep you alive— please. Call someone”

“But I like it here… I seriously thought that I’m gonna die last night, and all I could think about is seeing your face again. I’d die happily”

That explains the smile before he collapsed.

It’s hard to reason out with someone in this state, especially with Jaehyun. So you left him and prepared for dinner. But Jaehyun as the hard headed man he is, got up with all his strength to be with you in your small kitchen.

“I shouldn’t be here” he said weakly.

You walked towards him and hugged him gently, thankful that he is indeed alive. But you have to understand that you cant keep coming back to what hurt you.

“Stay for dinner, we’ll figure this out”

That night, you two talked like you didn’t you didn’t grew apart for a year. You were still the comfort that he longs for and he’s not ashamed to show it. While he was talking he didn’t hide anything from you for he was sure that you will never judge him. He admitted that he’s not in great shape, business is not well, drugs was all he had when you left, and that he was depressed. “My father left me with gold, money and a legacy… but not a happy life y/n” he scoffed and finished his meal.

When he was fetched by his new assassins, it was harder to leave than he thought. He feels sick, he never wanted to leave your place ever again, just like the night he left you here for the first time. The night he let you go.

“I bet you’re disappointed in me. I promised to never disturbed you but here I am…” he says with weak eyes.

“You can always visit me Jae… but not this way” you joked and kissed him on the cheek.

Little did you know that your invitation made him happy, a push to be a better man again. He didn’t want to face you again like this, broken, an addict, lost. He wanted to be better. And so he stepped into his car with hope, with motivation, a better drive to live a new life and bring back the mighty Jaehyun.

Months passed by and you find yourself thinking about Jaehyun again. Waiting for a sudden visit, waiting for him again. Maybe it’s because you heard his story now? That he ruined himself because he lost you, it’s not your fault of course, you’re not responsible. It’s his own doing and free will!

But when your waiting has finally come to an end, Jaehyun surprised you in an unexpected way.

It was night time you just got home from a tiring shift and you barely can’t keep your eyes open while doing your dinner. When the doorbell rang, it woke you up in an instant because…. Who would visit you at this hour. You hid the kitchen knife behind you, as you open the gate with one hand. And there he is. Holding flowers in his arm while the other has a pizza box.

“I bet you have a knife behind you” he chuckled and received a warm hug from you, welcoming him like he’s not a stranger to your life.

He looked well, better than a few months ago. He told you he’s 3 months sober now, and that looking forward to see you is something that pushed him to do well. “Thank you” he said warmly. It wasn’t an easy battle, but he still loves you too much that he never wanted you to see him broken and lost.

The night was sweet, you didn’t expect to spend it so close with each other. Almost as if you two were still a happy couple. But that’s what forgiveness is all about. What happened in the past can’t be changed, but it happened already.

“You’re not mad at me anymore?” Jaehyun asks, why he’s slowly caressing your back while you lay on his chest comfortably like you’ve done it a thousand times.

“About what exactly Jae?” you giggle, “About ruining our relationship? Your father’s death? all the betrayal, Mark’s death?”

“Everything. Every little thing” he admits.

“Ever since you set me free, I can’t help but think, ‘can Jaehyun live a life like this? Peaceful and slow?’ I think about it everyday Jae. That’s how much I forgave you already”

Hearing your answer made him tighten his hug, as if he thanked you silently. As if telling you, he’s truly not worthy of your love but he will stay in your life.

“You’re not just here for dinner, am I right?” The question shocked Jaehyun and caught him off guard. He didn’t expect that you’d see right through him. It’s not right to suddenly invite your ex lover (ex wife) to have sex after everything that’s happened in your life.

You watch him become shy, ears red as fuck and dimples flashing before your eyes, “If somehow I put you in the mood” he answered shyly, but bravely, his hand still holding yours fondly “but nonetheless my intentions are good. I really wanted to see you again” he admitted.

And as a prize for his cute honesty, you started kissing him softly. Testing waters. But of course, the man longs for you. He accepted those small kisses and returned some to you too. You feel his heart pounding against his chest, “nervous?” you teased him licking his lips before you proceeded and started to kiss him deeply. You feel his hands roam around your body, your night dress slightly lifted and your lacy panties, his tight pants are the only barriers that are stopping you two to fuck then and there.

“we shouldn’t be doing this” he whispered in the most frustrating tone, you just giggle and accepted every hungry kiss and bite he gives you.

You two soon ended in your bed, hands with each other, lips to lips and bodies immensely closed. But Jaehyun didn’t want to ruin a perfect day, you didn’t have sex, but there was passion and intimacy happened in your bed that night.

“We can have sex, hopefully next time?” He smiles sweetly while you continue to kiss him. Holding his hand and keeping him close.

Jaehyun slept like a baby that night, he hasnt been sleeping well ever since your relationship went downhill even more when you left, but tonight he slept like a baby. Peaceful, deep, worry less. Truth be told he didn’t want to sleep that night. He wanted to just stay beside you, look at you and bask in this feeling of being near you again. But he was just so comfortable beside you that he can’t help but sleep.

“Good morning” you kissed his exposed back, tracing his tattoos which tickles him. He smiles sweetly his ears turning red. He missed this feeling. The feeling of waking up happy, looking forward for a beautiful day, seeing you and getting to hold you first thing in the morning.

It feels like a dream.

“Am I dreaming?” He asks sweetly, reaching out to you for kisses, sweet and hungry ones. Kisses on your neck, kisses on your lips. good morning indeed.

“You know when you left, you never even visited in my dreams. It feels like my life was in constant punishment when you left” he said while touching your lips. Still can’t believe that you’re somehow…. Back together now. “By the way, I haven’t slept that good for a long time” he added.

You can really see that he’s well rested. ”Is it because of me?” You asked sincerely Jaehyun can see the guilt in your eyes. He just pulled you in for a hug and kissed you good morning, He didn’t want to ruin such a beautiful morning.

“How about, I make us breakfast and you hug me from behind?” He suggests.

“Sounds like a plan” you answered and placed a kiss on his head before you got up from bed.

Both you and Jaehyun can’t believe that you slept on the same bed last night… he was looking at your ceiling with high hopes that maybe, if he could make the right things now, and make it up to you… maybe? You can come hone with him in 127 house again? Start a new life? And try again.

“Jae, what time are you going to leave today?” You disturbed his thoughts.

“Uh… afternoon. I have to fly to Italy… for work” you already know what kind of business that is and you didn’t bother asking. What’s important is, he’s here.

Nothing is clear with this relationship yet. Welcoming Jaehyun in your life again is like coming after what broke you. How did this happen? After today? And then what? You're back to 127 house and become a Jeong again?

You were in deep thoughts while you watch him move around your kitchen, while he prepares a breakfast for two, while he makes your morning drink. You look at his healed tattoos, the ones that are new when you told him you wanted to leave. Maybe that’s a sign? Maybe you needed both to heal and be far from each other in order to realize that you two are meant to be. No doubt.

“Hey,” he asked sweetly and disturbing you with your ugly thoughts. “You okay?” He asked as he hands you your food. A plate so full that it made you remember how he used to take care of you back then.

“I was just thinking how suddenly you’re back into my life. I’m not going to pretend that I’m not thinking about it… I mean the whole idea of me leaving is to be away from you” you said as gently as possible. Jaehyun is not an unreasonable man, he understands where this is all coming. Theres no need to argue for sure, there’s no need to comment to what you said for every part of it is true. He just smiled at you.

“Your placed changed so much, I see you really put into work on every corner. I even saw your garden, was that lemon tree I saw?” He asked with a smile, genuinely curious.

“Yes, Taeyong planted it for me. They visited once. I suck managing this place Jae, but I love it” you chuckled, “who would have thought that I would have my own place”

“Who would have thought that I wont be part of this too,” he smiled and took a bite, “Its been what? A year already? Almost? I almost didn’t recognize you if I’m being honest you look free, you don’t look scary anymore”

You couldn’t believe what you’re hearing, he’s just making you laugh. He loves seeing your smile.

“While me… I’m still the same Jaehyun, the same Jaehyun that fell in love with you-“

“No Jaehyun you’re different. Every part of you is different now” Jaehyun didn’t argue further because its true. Maybe it was a compliment? Maybe not? He looks at his reflection through the dark coffee and see his face. His neck full of tattoos, he can see through his eyes that he’s broken and lost. But alas a happy man, at this point of hour.

By the time Jaehyun left you didn’t expect it feel so heavy. You wanted to ask when can you see him again? But you sure do know that doesn’t work that way. He comes when he comes. And you’re just crazy in love while waiting for him.

“I’ll be back” is what he said before he placed a kiss on your lips, a deep one. A kiss that wanted you to pull him back to your arms and stop him from leaving your house. But no.

What the fuck is this? Why are you jumping back to what hurt you?

“How’s everything while I’m gone?” Jaehyun asked sternly to his bodyguard.

“We lost a few men but the deal is sealed sir. Might I add sir that your fiancé is already waiting in your private plane”

The mentioned of the word “fiance” made him miss you already. He lets go a deep sigh and took one last look to your house before he orders his bodyguard to drive.

When Jaehyun arrived at his private airplane, there, a lady same as your age is waiting for his fiance to arrive. She is Jaehyun’s fiance that he got into a relationship with because he’s sad and depressed because you left him. He did tried to love her at some point… but he just ends up looking for pieces of you in her that she will never have.

Jaehyun thought that marrying himself away will eventually make the heartbreak go away… but it never did. The relationship evolved between lust and pure passion only… at first. Until her father, a powerful like Jaehyun made a deal with him. “Marry my daughter and we will be 2 families that is so powerful that no one will dare piss you off anymore”

Jaehyun agreed. Proposed and gave himself more troubles and problems. And that is the start of his fall. His mighty reign being shaken. But that is when he became honest with himself too. He needed you back in his life.

Before the accident that brought you two together again, Doyoung is the one who suggested Jaehyun to see you and try to win you back, simply because he can’t stand what’s happening now with everything. “Maybe y/n can bring the old Jaehyun back” Doyoung said to his boss.

Not long before Jaehyun left to see you, his fiancé staged an ambush and tried killing Jaehyun. She was well aware that Jaehyun will not be easy to kill, its fun for her too. She’s crazy like that. One of the many things Jaehyun liked about her… but not anymore.

Present time

“Well are you two together again? What does that make me?” The girl started while she poured a whiskey for herself.

“Don’t even bother touching her. You’re aware of who she is and what she’s capable of. You’d be dead by now if she knew about you… and what you did” Jaehyun said before closing his eyes, just soaking in with the feeling of the calm you brought to his life again.

“Why cant you love me Jaehyun?” The girl cries.

“I tried” is all Jaehyun could say.

“Then why are we still doing this? Why are you still marrying me?” The girl asked, sobbing like a helpless person.

“Business is business babe” he reaches for the woman’s face a caressed it like he admires her. But Jaehyun just closed his eyes and slept the whole flight. But the desperate girl went down on her knees and unbuckled Jaehyun’s belt, pulled out his cock and gave him a blow job. This girl is crazy, desperate for Jaehyun’s love and attention, but all she could have right now is lust.

Jaehyun may be an angel inside your home, but outside of it’s four corners, he’s back to being heartless. Well, you can’t blame the man who loves you. This world that he lives in will eat him alive if he continues to be soft in front of other people.

“Is that the best you got?” Jaehyun moans and held on to the girl’s head before thrusting slowly and deeper. Reaching low inside the girl’s throat, thrusting inside out until he cums.

Jaehyun was away for a couple of months, no calls, nothing. Taeyong and Yuta managed to visit again over the months that Jaehyun is away, you loved every moment of it. You just wish that Jaehyun could be present too, and he could spend time with the others too just like old times. Watch the sunset together. But you all know that it’s not that simple anymore. Jaehyun is different and will not understand the word friendship anymore, for he’s not looking forward to rekindling with Yuta and Taeyong too. All he cares about is… you.

“Now that you two are back…” Yuta started.

“What’s the plan?”

“It’s up to him. If he leaves the life that ate him whole, then maybe we can really start again. But if not… I’ll leave for good. I’ll hide from him this time. I’ll never go back there”

“But do you think it’s going to happen now?” Taeyong adds.

“No. Honestly. I think I’m giving myself a big trouble. You guys… I don’t even know when is he coming back, he’s not even calling? I can’t see the real Jaehyun yet. The one that I loved, the one that I married… but, now that I’m not an assassin anymore… I’ll let myself love him as my true self… you know?”

“Speaking of marriage, did you divorce him when you left?” Yuta asked.

“No. I was hoping that… eventually, we can put it into good use? He loves me. I know enough that he will not marry anyone else besides me”

“So you’re ready to be a Jeong now?” Yuta asked, “now that the Jeongs dont own you, are you ready to be a Jeong? … you know, like a normal person”

Assassin or not, Jaehyun’s world is crazy. And that is why you can’t answer Yuta yet.

“I need some time” that’s all you can say and Yuta respects that.

Meanwhile… Jaehyun is celebrating for 3 months straight with his engagement. A fake happiness of course. But a good time is a good time. He will endure everything until all of this is done and he can come back to you.

“How’s Y/n?” Doyoung asks quietly beside Jaehyun while his boss watches the sun goes down. It’s beautiful here in Italy Jaehyun thought. But the situation he’s in right now is ugly.

“She’s good… For the first time of my life I slept soundly… beside her. During the time that we were together, I just cant help but think that… letting go of her is the best decision I’ve ever made, and I’m happy I let her go and build this life that she has right now. A life without me, without the killings, dodging bullets….”

“So you’re giving up?”Doyoung asks calmly, “If she can’t bring your might back then what can? Who can?”

“I’ll think of something else, but for now… I would have to keep him away from this life. She doesn’t deserve this”

After 6 months of faking happiness, never ending parties and business arrangements, finally Jaehyun arrived again at your place. Unannounced and alone.

You just finished taking a shower, humming happily a song that you heard from the radio. You bathrobe is what covers your body, hair still wet from the warm shower when suddenly…

“Nice song,” Jaehyun whispers beside your ear with his deep voice.

Which startled you and made you threw a punch which he of course can dodge. He covers your mouth when you realized that its Jaehyun. Hugging him tightly in your dark room. He didn’t missed the fact that you’re only wearing a robe and you’re both happy about seeing each other again.

“Is it a good time?” Jaehyun asked like a gentleman. He was talking about having sex. He just wanted to make sure that you’re okay with this.

“Its a perfect timing” you said and kissed him, helped him remove his clothes. He was dressed in Prada from to toe, you already knew that he came from an important event that ended very late. A business meeting?

“Stop it with your thoughts,” he whispers and made you focus on him by revealing you left boob and proceeds to licking your nipples. Pushing you against the wall and continues to lick and suck on your left boob until your nipple is sensitive and you’re to left to want more on the other side. He has the changed a bit when it comes to stupid shit you thought.

He motions you on your bed without breaking what he’s doing to left boob. He bits it playfully before he stops and pushes you to your comfort. You watch him undress the last few garments he’s wearing. Specifically his expensive watch and his boxer briefs.

And when he’s all naked on top you, kissing your exposed neck, he swiftly removed your robe and positioned him in between your legs.

“Do you like it?” He asked first before he proceeds.

Of course you love it. Everything he does.

You feel him smile in between kisses. But not because of lust, he’s just happy that he’s making love with the love of his life again.

“I love you. Always have. Always will Y/n”

He left those words before licking the folds in between your legs, making you moan and say his name over and over again because of the things he makes you feel using his tongue. You feel him lick you slowly, from time to time and proceeds to spreading your folds and finding sensitive spots in your cunt that only he know. He has always been your weakness.

When he was done giving that great oral, he finds your lips kisses it endlessly, down to your neck, the valley between your boobs, giving both of your boobs a good lick… as if he has kissed and marked evert part of your body.

“I don’t have condoms with me,” he whispers while he continues to kiss your neck. “Am I lucky?” He playfully bit the shell of your ear. But you were quick to teas him.

“After all the shit you put me through? — I have condoms by the drawer” you teased him and watch him roll his eyes but happily reaches the first condom.

You watch pump his cock a few times while his fingers runs up and down you wet slit and watch you shiver. He rolls the condom and lines his tip on your cunt, his lips were quick to find yours as he pushes through your walls oh so slowly. Like he’s savoring every second that he’s thrusting.

When was the last time you two made love?

Probably the night of your wedding?

Jaehyun hates that thought. So he thrusted deeper, watching you melt with every sensation he gives you, catch every moan you let out and grant everything you asked.

You want him to kiss you while he fucks you? Sure. Jaehyun made sure that you’re breathless with his kisses, leaving you wanting for air. You want him to go deeper? Sure. He pins your legs down on the mattress making sure you wont close them so he could go deeper.

“Dont stop” you moan out. And Jaehyun got excited and put you in a new position that you loved. Lifting one leg up on his shoulders as he goes deeper while fucking you. You said dont stop right? He felt you cum already, but you were so into the sex that you don’t care if you came already. You want him to keep going while he overstimulates you, putting you in all fours, pulling your body against his chest and squeezes your boobs while he fucks you.

After a few more rounds on different corners of the bed, you and Jaehyun rest and catch your breaths after using all the condoms you have in store. “If it wasnt for the condoms” Jaehyun giggled and placed a kiss on your lips.

“Are you staying for the night?” You asked as you cling onto him. The man keeps you around his strong arms.

“ I will. I want to stay. Can I stay?” Jaehyun asks sweetly.

“Of course” you answered.

“How about your life?” You feel him keep you closer as if he’s not ready to let go if you wont allow him to come back in your life. “Can I stay in your life?”

“Id love that” you answered him sincerely.

And you saw the same smile he flashed the night he asked you to marry him.

That night you realized that he loves you. And no one can ever make him happier.

After that night, Jaehyun made sure he will not make the same mistakes again.

Whenever he leaves, he leaves with a promise, may it be small or something big like, “I’ll fix you porch light when I come back, don’t get someone to do it�� or “lets go see a movie, a musical perhaps?”

He made sure that even though you can’t contact him through phone, you have this certainty that he will come back.

He never brought work whenever he’s with you. This time, its you whom he saves from over working. Like now…

Jaehyun just arrived with groceries in his hand and he you were on the phone with your boss from the library, you were talking about your updated schedules when Jaehyun just placed a kiss on your lips. You thought that … that was it. But no. He looked you in the eye and kissed you deeper, he can hear your boss through the other side of the line, reciting the dates of your schedule. When the call ended and you were breathless the whole time you were kissing, you smack his shoulder and placed a kiss on his cheek and marking the dates on your calendar.

“Wow you’re one busy librarian…” Jaehyun says, “I’m happy for you” he smiles and kissed you one last time before unpacking the groceries.

“How long are you going to stay? Its been three days since we last saw each other… I just noticed that you’ve been coming here more often” you smiled and hugged him from behind.

“I’m staying longer this time because I will be away for much longer… BUT but.. don’t worry, we will have so much fun” Jaehyun felt your embrace became tighter and grow silent, but what can you do?

“I have something for you.. its a trick to make you stay.. I hope it works tho” you blurted out and told him to go in your room. The gift is big so he can see it immediately. You didn’t go inside with him. You figured that… when he sees that gift, he will need those special seconds all to himself.

And by the time Jaehyun saw it… you heard him play the piano again.

He never touched one when he started training to become an assassin. But you knew that music was his first love not you.

He went back to where you were standing, he leaned on the wall beside you and crossed his arms. “Its working… “ he smiled and kissed you deeply, thanking you countless of times for bringing music back to his life.

Your relationship with Jaehyun went on like this for a year. Celebrating each other’s birthdays together, countless of beautiful nights and mornings of him playing the piano you gave him, giving your house life, and enjoying holidays together. Sometimes Jaehyun comes home to you with blood in his hands, but you’re well aware of what kind of person he is outside your home. You never fight or argue, Jaehyun was the one who’s so quick to stop you whenever a conversation is getting heated. The flashback of the nights during your marriage kept flashing in his head. And he will do anything in his power to stop it from happening again.

“Mmm one more?” Jaehyun requests after you two finished your nth round for tonight. He will leave first thing in the morning so he is doing everything he can to keep you awake.

“Jaehyun I’m defeated” you chucked and kissed him. You feel his cock go hard and you feel him hump your thigh, all you could is complain… but you love every second of it. He’s been fucking you deep and slow lately, it feels extra good because its raw. “But can you please be faster or rougher this time?”

“Why? Don’t you love it when I go deep?… and slow?” He teased as he pushes in back to your cunt. Making you moan a little louder, he bit your should and slapped your ass. Spreading your ass cheek while he pounds hard.

“Fuck Jaehyun I’ll break-“ you struggle to tell him as he fucks you deep and rough.

“You asked for this.. just a minute ago” he kissed your neck and bit you again, “make up you mind”

The round ended with his mouth on your left boob, his right hand on your right boob and his cock continuously shoots loads of cum inside you. He was out of breath, you look at him and he was just as ruined as you are.

He removed his cock slowly, kissing you all over body. Everything that he sees a little red on your skin, “sorry for this” he apologized and kiss you.

“This is nice right?” He looks you in the eye. “Life has been so much better for us right?”

“Yeah” and you proceed to sleeping in his loving arms. You didn’t hear it but he told you he loves you.

On the next day, you find no Jaehyun in your bed but a note with red roses instead.

“I’ll be back by the time these roses withered. Just in time to give you fresh ones” - J

Little did you know, he was gone early this morning because he’s getting married.

“You told me you would be back last night?-“ Doyoung was quick to tend to Jaehyun, his cousin, his boss whom he needed to deliver at the altar in approximately half an hour.

“The sex was good-“ Jaehyun teased Doyoung.

“Okay shut up before you put her in trouble,” Doyoung says as he helps his boss put in his coat.

“I need a tequila shot, I can’t do this sober” Jaehyun demands, and in a matter of second 3 tequila shots are ready for him.

The wedding was grand. It was the biggest wedding of the century and every public platform is updated with the happening of the great Jeong Jaehyun’s wedding to the country’s darling. A power couple in the eyes of the public, but they know so little of what’s really happening.

Every powerful businessman is invited. Every assassin that the Jeongs own is present, theres no safer place in the world right now. And Jaehyun just wants to get this over with and come home to you. And lay out his plan to you. But this is going to be a long suffering, he still have his “honeymoon” in Italy.

Jaehyun knew that you will eventually hear about this marriage, how could you not? It’s all over the news. Jaehyun just hopes and prays that you allow him to explain first before you curse him and leave him again. Nonetheless, he will fight for you this time.

It was a long painful waiting for Jaehyun’s return. Maybe it’s for the better so you could have time to feel the heartbreak and have time for yourself before he comes back and feed you with lies again.

You remember the night that you two got in an argument because he thought you were accusing him of cheating, he told you, “I am many things but I will never cheat on you”

Look at you now Jae.

It’s obvious that the marriage is for business only. But who knows? You still have your doubts.

It also… doesn’t change the fact that you’re the mistress now. Yes you got married but… who would believe you. He married this girl in the eyes of the world… everyone would believe that I’m a home wrecker now.

And then you felt it….

You came running to the sink to throw up out of nowhere. You felt weak in an instant.

Maybe its because the thought of Jaehyun? Just thinking about him makes you sick to the core.

Or your period is late?

“It can’t be” you thought and ran to the nearest drugstore to buy a pregnancy test.

But as you walk your way there. You kept on thinking about the things that will happen after this.

Jaehyun will not let you go.

Everything will be complicated again.

It can ruin his marriage, it can ruin a lot of business deals.

It will ruin him.

This peace that you have right now will be taken away from you and bringing a baby in this scary world is the last thing you want to do now.

But the thought of…. “what if everything works out? Jaehyun loves kids”

And all this overthinking made you miss the stop sign at the side walk and you were hit by a car in a matter of seconds.

Thank you so much for reading this work of mine! If you love what you read, please leave something in my inbox and tell me how you feel! CLICK THIS LINK. I hope we can practice, give and take.

Stay tuned for the next part! -B.

#nct smut #jaehyun smut #jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #nct 127 smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct #nct x reader #nct fanfic #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun nct #assassin au

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justwinginglife · 3 months ago

Text

Because I Love You (Part 1 of a Series)

Fic request from @adaizel based off of a prompt from @hoshinaideas4all.

Soshiro missed you immensely.

He missed you immensely and he never got to tell you.

He was too busy fighting back relentless waves of Kaiju, too swamped with stacks of paperwork, too concerned for the lives of his coworkers. There were too many things to attend to and not enough time to attend to them, you included.

When he first started dating you, he had been proud of his position as Vice Captain. He had been eager to show off his importance. He had been eager to be of importance to you. But the longer he worked in the Defense Force, the wider the chasm stretched between his work life and his home life. At first, he was just working late nights, but he’d still come home, press a gentle kiss to your forehead and let you doze off in his arms. Now he didn’t come home at all, now it seemed he lived on base, sleeping at his desk whenever he could find the time. And when he’d wake up, realizing his only companion was a hunk of wood chock full of unfinished reports that he’d crammed into its drawers, he’d miss you again. He’d wonder if his job was worth it.

He always found purpose in working here, he felt like he was making a difference, like he was saving people. But what good was saving people if he couldn’t save the one person who mattered the most to him?

It’d been so long since he’d had a proper date with you, since he’d had a proper dinner with you, since he’d had anything with you. He even started hallucinating you on the job. He imagined you were in the building the Kaiju had just destroyed and when he rushed to pull you from the rubble and saw someone else’s face instead, he shrank away, both relieved you weren’t the one who was buried, and disappointed he hadn’t been allowed to see your face one more time.

And when he drifted off, in the transport back to base, he heard your voice in his mind, saw your smile in his dreams. You were alive, you were somewhere, waiting for him, but he was haunted by the thought of you as though you were long gone, as though you were some forgotten memory, some fragment from his past, some figment of his imagination. But he knew you were alive because his heart would break every time he’d see a message from you, begging him to come home, begging him to let you know he was okay, but he never had the time to respond. He would be mid-response, his fingers hovering over the keys, and then he would be dragged to the command center, dragged to the training grounds, dragged anywhere and everywhere but near you.

And then finally, the war with the kaiju let up, he was allowed respite, allowed a visit home. He didn’t bother cleaning himself up, he knew you didn’t care what he looked like as long as he was in your arms, as long as he was beside you. He didn’t bother telling anyone where he’d gone, he was sure they could all guess what was on his mind; it was the only thing that was ever on his mind these days- you. He even broke a couple traffic laws rushing home to you; Soshiro, the man that was so law-abiding that you teased him relentlessly for it, the man who refused to jaywalk, who’d call the police when he saw someone litter. That man was the same man that almost ran a pedestrian over with his car, trying to get to you, trying to be there for you.

But he was too late. When he got home, he eagerly burst through the doors only to find the house was emptied of all your things. He’d been gone so long, the house didn’t even smell like you anymore. He’d always teased you about the millions of candles you had all over the place, telling you the many conflicting scents were overwhelming, telling you they’d never get visitors at this rate; now he was dismayed to find that not a single room in the house had a single candle. Your clothes were gone, your decorations were gone, your piano was gone (he was devastated because that piano was huge and he wondered who was strong enough to help you move it, who was there for you when he couldn’t be, and was the guy handsome and did he love you?), every trace of you was gone. His house was empty and his heart was starting to feel the same.

He knew it was his fault. He knew he abandoned you, left you to feel the crushing weight of his absence each and every day, left you to fend for yourself, left you to feel unloved and undesired, when all he wanted to do was love and desire you. He knew that you probably wouldn’t come back. That you might not ever come back. He didn’t even know how long it'd been since you left. He waited for you, on the couch, all the same.

He waited for you, just like he used to, when you worked later nights than him. When he would stay up for you with your favorite movie set up on the TV, with your favorite robe laid out on the couch, with dinner all cooked, your lunch for tomorrow all packed, ready to love you, ready to pamper you. He waited and he waited on the couch. He waited so long he thought he might just become one with the couch, sink into it, let it devour him.

He wanted to call you, to call your mom, to call your dad, to find you, to search every square inch of this town for you. But he knew he had no right. He had no right to love you, to want you, to hope for you, to think about you. But he did all of those things anyway.

He wondered if you were crying right now. If you were alone, you hated crying alone, he hated the thought of you being alone. Or maybe you were with someone. Maybe you were with whoever moved your piano for you. And he hated that thought even more. And then he hated himself for hating it. If someone made you happy, if someone could support you more than he did, if someone could love you more than he did, then he should let you be happy, because he loved you. Because he loved you, he should leave you alone. Because he loved you, he should let you find peace. Because he loved you, he would withdraw himself, withdraw the right to have you, the right to hold you.

So he took the next train back to base, wanting to drown himself in busy work, but not trusting himself enough to drive without steering his car off a bridge.

All that time pacing through the house, all that time aching for you, and he never once thought to check in the bathroom garbage. He never once thought that maybe you might’ve left because you loved him not because you stopped loving him. If he had taken the time to check before he threw himself back into work, he would’ve seen the positive pregnancy test sitting alone in the trash bin.

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When you first saw the line on the test, declaring you pregnant, you were overjoyed. You were about to be gifted with a permanent reminder of Soshiro’s love, nothing could’ve made you happier. And he was going to be the best father.

You knew he was busy now, but wars didn’t last forever, you could wait for him to come home. You could wait to be a family again. All that mattered was that he loved you and you loved him. Because you loved him, you’d do anything for him.

One day, the bright idea to visit him at work struck you. You cheerfully hummed to yourself his favorite song as you packed him a nice, homemade lunch, you settled a little love note alongside it in the bag, and drove out to surprise him. You thought that with all the bloodshed and fighting lately, he could use a little pick-me-up and nothing lifted your spirits more than the thought of having a baby with him, so you planned to tell him the news that day.

When you arrived, some random footsoldier directed you towards his office and you thanked them, making your giddy little way to him. You were going to see your love, at last. And with the best news possible, too. You were so happy.

When you rounded the corner, you caught a glimpse of him at his desk but he wasn’t alone. He was discussing battle strategies with a high ranking officer, and you knew better than to interrupt. You waited in a nearby chair for him to finish.

As you fiddled with your thumbs, you overheard part of his conversation.

“These damned beasts, they never let up.” Soshiro cursed.

“Well, it looks like we’ve got the upper hand so far.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” Soshiro’s voice sounded strained, tired.

The soldier shifted his weight. “I’m hoping we finish this war soon, sir, my wife wants to have a baby.”

Soshiro clapped him on the back. “I hope we do too, soldier, I hope we do too. Let’s bring this to an end and you can go home and pamper that wife of yours silly, okay?”

“How about you, sir? Any plans for you? I know you got a girl back home.”

Soshiro laughed bitterly. “I’d never bring a child into this fucked up world. What a shitshow. This is no place to be having a kid, you should retire when you finally have one. Me? I’ll probably die in the Defense Force, my girl could do better than to stay with me, god bless her.”

When you heard his words, you wanted to run to him, to tell him you’d never leave his side. To tell him everything would be okay. But he was right. This was not the place to raise a kid. You knew if you asked, Soshiro would retire from the Defense Force in a heartbeat, but you also knew he’d spend the rest of his life regretting it. You didn’t want to make him choose between your baby and his job. So you made the choice for him. You went home that night and packed up all your things, all the evidence that you ever existed, all the evidence that you were ever his.

Because you loved him, you’d do anything for him. Even leave.

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #anime #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina #oneshot #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #anime fanfic #angst

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 3 months ago

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No Nut November - Kirk

A/n: I have decided I'm focusing on unfinished series' first and I will deal with requests later because holy fuck I have a lot and I am ✨overwhelmed✨ so bear with me 🥹

Warnings: Smut, semipublic sex?, oral (m receiving), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Intro

It was barely a week into you staying with Metallica and the guys were all struggling. Kirk was having an especially hard time, partially because you were going after him first.

Kirk was the youngest, the calmest... honestly, he just seemed like an easy target.

He never acted on his thoughts, not that you knew of anyway, but you could see the cracks in his jokes, how he rarely made eye contact with you, left his eyes on you a second or two longer than he should've.

You were making yourself a little midnight snack in the dark, hoping that would keep people asleep since you hadn't felt like dressing up or anything. Also, your midnight snack was utterly atrocious, as is the way with the best of them, and you didn't need people coming in on that.

However, the light flicked on and you turned to see Kirk staring at you wide eyed. Shorts that weren't quite long enough and no shirt, just your bra because it was fucking hot this time of year.

"Hi." You said simply, just to break the awkward silence. Kirk's attention snapped up to your eyes and he smiled at you, crooked teeth and all.

"Hi." He replied, trying to keep his tone normal. "What are you doing?" He asked, coming closer to you.

"Making a snack." You said, continuing to work on your food.

"In the dark?" You chewed your cheek before shrugging.

"Dark doesn't scare me." You said, then you thought for a moment. "Does it scare you?"

"What?" He asked, giving you a look like he was more scared you'd genuinely think that of him. "No, of course not, why would I be scared of the dark?"

You shrugged and sucked your teeth. "I don't know, you watch a lot of horror movies, you might've thought I was some kind of demon."

"Oh, totally." He said with a soft laughter. "You know, I thought you were actually Freddie Kreuger out to get me."

"Right, right, so you came to get me first?" You asked, brow raised at him.

Kirk's mouth opened to say something but he cut himself off. "What the hell are you making?" He asked, changing the subject.

You explained your midnight snack of choice, by that time Kirk got hungry and since you were talking about horror movies he suggested you watched one with him right then. Perfect conditions, middle of the night, everyone sleeping, and you had snacks. Really, there wasn't much too it.

He set up a movie while you got to work on popcorn.

When you came over to him he was all set up on the couch with a blanket and everything. There was tons of space, the whole rest of the couch and other chairs, hell, you could've sat on the floor if you wanted. But you had a plan, and you were going to stick to it.

You sat right beside Kirk, curling up to him. Hesitantly, he returned your little act of affection and held you to his side, squeezing you gently whenever something even remotely scary happened.

You weren't too focused on the movie, you were more interested in what you could get kirk to do. You started rubbing your hand up and down his thigh, listening to his breath hitching and catching his small glimpses down to you.

He didn't stop you from pushing his shorts down and palming his hard-on through his boxers. Soft moans left him, lips parted and eyes looking dazed at the feeling.

You pushed the blanket off of the both of you and slipped off of the couch and onto your knees in front of him. Kirk looked around frantically. "We-we can't. What if-" He was cut off by a moan, which he covered by slapping a hand over his mouth.

You were pulling his shorts and boxers down, his cock springing free and hitting his abdomen, already red and leaky with pre-cum. "Don't worry," you said, trailing a finger up his length, "no one's coming down. The lights are off, they won't even notice us."

"What about the movie?" He mumbled. You glanced over you shoulder at the movie still playing.

"Then they'll notice you." You said with a shrug. He didn't look too convinced but he definitely relaxed when you took him into your mouth. He didn't care of someone came and saw you, he barely cared enough to cover his mouth as your head bobbed up and down on him, slurping, sucking and licking on him.

He spread his legs further and his hand went to the back of your head, guiding you on him, not that you needed it. His hips bucked up, pushing him deeper into your throat.

You felt him pulsing, veins on your tongue, tip hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes watered and drool dripped out the corners of your mouth. You kept your eyes on him, watching him carefully and taking mental snapshots of his expressions.

You heard noises coming from upstairs, Kirk did as well. "Stop, we have to-to stop." He said, voice breathless. Despite his words he kept pushing you back down, keeping himself in you. "Someone's gonna- fuck-!" He squeaked, holding a hand over his mouth tighter.

His body seemed to flare up, weakly trying to push you away while simultaneously holding you in place, hot cum spurting down your throat.

You pulled the blanket over you and Kirk pulled a few pillows over in a feeble attempt to cover you before the lights flicked on showed Lars standing by the stairs, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Fuck are you doing?" He grumbled, accent painfully strong with sleep.

"Watching the, uh..." Kirk stammered, pointing to the TV which still had the horror movie going.

Lars stared at him, there was no way he didn't notice the strange lump on Kirk's lap but he didn't bring it up and just nodded. "Go to sleep, weirdo." He grumbled, turning the lights back off and heading back upstairs.

You waited to here the door to Lars's room close before pushing the blanket off of you once more, finally pulling away from Kirk and wiping your mouth.

You stood and pushed your shorts and soaked panties down before sitting next to kirk. "My turn~" You said, grinning widely. How could he say no?

#metallica smut #metallica imagines #metallica rp #metallica fanfiction #metallica #metallica x reader #kirk my beloved #kirk hammett fluff #kirk hammett x reader #kirk hammett smut #kirk hammett #kirk hammett imagines

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makeyoumine69 · 5 months ago

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Before You Fade (Memory Reboot x3)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

SUMMARY: After moving to Chicago, you thought you had left your former life behind. But when you receive a mysterious invitation one day, you realize you still have unfinished business in New York.

CONTAINS: Smut, angst, mutual pining, obsessive behavior, desperate & sensual foreplay, anal fingering, penetrative & oral sex, biting, spanking, creampie, masturbating, mild praise kink & degradation, body worship, pet names, dirty talk, misogyny, swearing, gaslighting, manhandling, mind manipulation, cheating.

WORDS: 6.8k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Before You Fade

A/N: Hello everyone! A new chapter is finally here! This story has me in a chokehold! I highly recommend you to read the first chapter and the second one for a better understanding and as always I hope you like it! If you find any mistakes regarding gn!reader, please let me know!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].

A new city, a new life, new people and new opportunities—all this was supposed to bring some relief, to ignite a new flame in your chest, to set a new goal, to make you forget everything that happened in New York. It was supposed to, but it never did.

After a few months of living in Chicago and working in a prestigious financial corporation, you began to notice that your life now looked like a vicious circle and the days blurred into one long day that never ended. That was probably the price you paid for running away, for being too cowardly to face the truth that what you shared with Bateman was not just a history—it was a goddamn passion and obsession that most people could only dream of. But you, you were not like them. For you, this obsession was like a plague, a disease, and you were sure that Patrick felt the same way. Still, the words he said that day were like scars on your mind. The poor guy really thought that you would stay with him, that you would miss a chance to reboot your life. Since you couldn't reboot the memory, this was the only way out.

Was that it?

The sleek interior of your office greeted you with the invigorating aroma of fresh coffee waiting for you on your desk made by your lovely assistant—a handsome guy named Vincent—he was quite modest but smart and sometimes you even thought you should have asked him out for something more serious than coffee. But then again, the shitty memories kept ruining all those weak impulses to try something new.

Sighing, you closed the door behind you and took off your coat, placing it on the nearby hanger and glancing at the beautiful bouquet of flowers on the small coffee table next to the big black couch. These flowers…you bought them for yourself just because you wanted them, not because you felt lonely or…

'Fuck, not again,' you shook your head, not giving yourself a chance to spiral again, knowing how quickly that could happen. Today was the worst day for self-digging, because you were going to present a final plan for a future quarter, and you couldn't fail. Not today, not ever. The moment you finally settled into your favorite armchair, you heard a soft knock at the door. You knew who it was even before you let the guest in.

Vincent, smiling as if he saw the brightest star in the midnight sky, opened the door and entered with cat-like grace. "Are you busy?"

Embarrassed by the man's persistent gaze, you folded your hands and leaned down on the table. "No, not really, I just came," you brought the coffee cup closer and wrapped your elegant fingers around its handle. "…and realized I have the best secretary in the world."

A sonorous chuckle rumbled from Vincent's chest. "Oh, you're too kind," the man walked into the office holding a pile of documents. "I brought you some fresh correspondence you might like to see."

"Uh, yes, thank you. Put it here, please."

The brown-haired secretary complied, and soon there was a large white envelope in front of you, next to the documents. There was something odd about having such a large envelope of mail since it was almost the end of the work week, but you just tapped your fingers on the smooth surface of the table in a slightly skeptical manner before turning your attention back to Vincent, who was standing in front of the desk, ready to assist you with anything you might ask.

"Anything else I can do?"

"I think that's about it for now," you answered, staring at the envelope from time to time out of the corners of your ears, sipping the hot drink and letting the warmth flow down your tensed body. "Oh, did you hear that our CEO won't be at the presentation today?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, he…has some unfinished business in LA…with a hot blonde chick."

You both laughed in unison, everything was clear as a bell. "Well, that sounds important." Vincent crossed his arms over his chest, the Oliver Peoples O'Malley glasses sitting perfectly on the bridge of his nose, though you tried not to focus on that little detail that constantly reminded you of Bateman. As if he was the only yuppie to wear such glasses. "Have you…"

As soon as Vincent started to speak, your phone rang—the loud sound even startled you a bit, but you quickly shook yourself and picked up the call, being extremely curious who could be calling you like this. "I'm listening."

"(Y/n)!" Paul Allen's cheerful timbre came from the other end of the line, making you almost jump in your seat.

"P-Paul?" You gave Vincent a worried look, and your nervousness seemed to affect your assistant as well, because he didn't look relaxed anymore. "Did something happen?"

"What? No! Of course not," Allen chuckled, and a female giggle could be heard in the background. "I'm calling to ask when we can see each other in New York…"

A noise grew louder, making it difficult to hear Paul's words, so you had to close one of your ears and furrow your brows in irritation. "Where are you calling from? A brothel? I can't fucking hear a word!"

Such a remark made Vincent laugh a little shyly, but then the man bowed his head and retreated in his professional, polite manner.

"Can you repeat…" You began to speak at the same time as Paul.

"…so when can we meet?"

Grumbling, you rolled your eyes. "Why did you even decide that I would visit New York?"

"Didn't you get the invitation to the wedding?" Paul's question made you feel something heavy in your stomach.

"Wedding? Who's wedding?"

There was a moment of silence that left you so nervous that you didn't even notice a pencil in your hands that was about to break because of how desperately you were squeezing it.

"Halberstram…" another pause, then another female snicker. All of it made you sick. "He's marrying a hardbody named… Cecilia, if I'm not mistaken."

Somehow you felt strangely relieved.

"But it's been several months since I quit, why was I invited?"

"Gee, (y/n)," now it was time for Paul to grumble a bit. "You think a few months are enough to forget you?" He laughed shamelessly into the phone. "Okay, okay, maybe I chose the wrong time to call you. But seriously, I'm looking forward to hanging out with you when you get here."

"Argh, fine," you muttered, finally letting go of the pencil only to grab the annoying envelope. "I'll call you later, today is really a fucked up day for me."

When you heard nothing but women laughing, you just hung up. 'God, it's only ten in the morning and Allen's already having fun. What am I doing wrong with my life?' You vented to yourself, twisting the envelope in your hands as if you were about to open Pandora's box.

With a deft move, you pulled out a postal knife and carefully cut open the envelope to gain access to its contents. Time stood still for you as your hands involuntarily reached for a beautifully decorated card that could definitely be a wedding invitation. After a short exhalation, you opened it and it took you several minutes to process what you had just seen, as you thought you were hallucinating.

The card had the following text:

“The honor of your presence is requested at the marriage of

Evelyn Arwyn Williams And Patrick Pierce Bateman

Saturday, the twentieth of October nineteen hundred and eighty-seven at twelve o'clock in the afternoon

Ziegfeld Ballroom 141 W 54th St New York, NY 10019.”

The card fell from your hands without any resistance. You felt dizzy, even nauseous, as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the office and you were literally suffocating.

'How dare…' you cursed to yourself, grabbing the collar of your blouse in a feint attempt to unbutton it from the burning itch on your skin, '…you…fucking bastard!'

Dazed, you stood up faster than you should have, making your head spin and nearly knocking you over if you hadn't leaned on the back of your chair. You need some fresh air or a sip of heavy alcohol or a fucking gram. Something that will take you out of this situation, even if only for a moment.

"Boss?" Vincent's worried voice came out of nowhere. "Are you okay?"

Panting, you shot an angry glance at your table, then at your lovely assistant, whose bright eyes were like two glowing beacons. "Vincent, listen," you stammered, unable to find the right words. "Can you please order me a ticket," you closed your eyes for a second, counted to ten and gripped the back of your chair. "…to New York."

"New York? Something wrong?"

"N-no," you managed to laugh off your tension and stop grazing the leather under your fingernails. "It's just… seems like I have some deals to settle in New York, some old ones I thought were closed."

"Only one ticket or…"

"I need a ticket in both directions, of course," you mumbled nervously before taking a coffee and finishing it in one go, thankfully it became less hot. "I won't be there for long," you said as if you were trying to convince yourself, desperately trying. It was only when you met Vincent's eyes that you noticed his sad look and realized that you might have upset him. "Uh, I really wish I could take you with me… but I want someone to look after things here and…"

The dark-haired man smiled sympathetically, and that helped to calm you a little. "Oh, please, don't apologize; it's my job," he said, visibly relaxed, considering his casual pose with his hands in the pockets of his Armani trousers. "I'm just worried about you, I don't want anything bad to happen."

Slightly embarrassed, you couldn't help but grin sincerely. "Ah, Vincent, you're such a sweetheart," you rumbled with undisguised amusement. "Everything will be fine. I promise, you have nothing to worry about."

"All right, then," Vincent pulled himself up and opened the door. "I'll let you know when I have information about your flights."

After that you were left alone again. The muffled din of the city outside the office could be heard faintly whenever you walked past the windows, restlessly making circles around the room.

'Maybe I should just ignore it? Maybe it's just a bad joke and I should call Tim and ask him about it?' You covered your face with your palms before sighing tiredly. Once again, Bateman was forcing you to make strange decisions and you hated it. You hated him, you hated the wedding that hasn't even happened yet, and you hated yourself for being so easily overwhelmed.

No way in hell did you expect to visit New York too soon after you left the city and everything that happened there behind your back the moment you took your seat in an airplane to Chicago. And who would dare to judge you for that? Right, no one but you.

The wedding was supposed to be tomorrow, so you had some time to prepare for… for what? Yawning, you stretched your legs in the uncomfortable backseat of the taxi, the driver asking you where you were from and if you had ever been to New York. And at some point you felt sad because you really wanted to say no, you haven't. But you did, and only God knew how hard it had been for you to survive the past months of constant self-digging and dead-end conversations with your vicious subconscious.

Thanks to Vincent, you didn't have to worry about where to stay in New York, as he booked you a luxury suit at the Plaza Hotel. Ah, Vincent…that boy was so sweet that sometimes you could even believe in supernatural beings, as if life was trying to make amends for the unpleasant situation with Bateman.

Sitting on the big bed, you tried your best not to have a panic attack or, even worse, go crazy and empty the minibar, drinking as much as you could as if tomorrow would never come. 'Gosh, I'd sell my soul to see Bateman's face if I came to the wedding being completely drunk.’ With a silly smile on your face, you kept dreaming about some nonsense to distract yourself until the night came and you had to get some sleep before the wedding.

The next day started terribly when some random maid came early and mixed up your suit with someone else's. In the end, you couldn't say that you were rested enough, but you didn't have much time and you still had to come up with an idea for your outfit. 'Should I wear something extravagant or perhaps something more modest?' You spun around in front of the large mirror, the clock was ticking and that sound was really getting on your nerves.

"Uh, to hell with it…" you cursed to yourself and finally picked out a blue Gucci suit that fit your figure perfectly. "I don't want to overshadow the groom."

Winking at your own reflection, you added a few accessories before leaving the Plaza, where a beautiful Cadillac was waiting for you. A driver opened the back door for you, smiled politely, and at some point you even began to think that this day wouldn't be as shitty as it promised to be.

By the time you arrived at the Ziegfeld Ballroom, it was already quite crowded, with many luxury cars lining the street, delivering more and more stylishly dressed guests. With a heavy heart, you held an invitation in your hand and fought the urge to tear it apart and tell the driver to drive away. The sudden appearance of Courtney and Luis in your vision pulled you out of your doubts. 'So that bastard even invited Courtney,' you hummed and slowly opened the door to get out of the car.

All the way to the Ziegfeld Ballroom, you tried to be careful not to bump into anyone you didn't really want to interact with, like Timothy, Craig, David, Paul… Even though you were sure it was going to happen one way or another, you still didn't want to face reality too soon.

Inside the huge hall, you stopped near the long banquet table decorated with white and red roses—the whole style of the wedding screamed Evelyn. Nothing special, though, Bateman probably didn't care about such things as wedding decorations.

Taking a glass of champagne, you moved deeper into the hall and watched the guests split into groups. Still, you were lucky because you didn't see any familiar faces, even Luis and Courtney got lost somewhere among the faceless yuppies and their dates. Everything seemed fine, you had a plan to see the couple get married and then… slip away? It was such a stupid plan, but at least you had one.

Puzzled, you told yourself to leave all thoughts to the latter, when you wouldn't be so vulnerable, staying in the middle of the ballroom and watching the several waitresses bringing more and more appetizers. You were even about to try one of them when you accidentally noticed Tim and Craig coming your way. Trembling, you almost dropped the glass, but somehow you managed to put it on the nearby table, startling a waitress with your erratic behavior, but you didn't care.

As fast as you could, you rushed in a different direction from the group of your former friends, desperately searching for any room you could get into. Your pulse pounded in your eardrums, forcing you to open the first door and enter.

Breathing heavily, you pressed your back against the door and closed your eyes for a second, only to open them in a blood-chilling shock as you met a pair of hazel, dark eyes as bewildering as your own.

"You?" Bateman's startled voice bounced off the walls of the small bathroom, his face frozen in a confused grimace as if he couldn't believe his eyes. "What the fuck are you doing in here?"

"Me? You invited me, you fool!" You barked back, pulling away from the door and moving toward the brown-haired man. "Have you forgotten already?"

Patrick looked absolutely stunning in his wedding tuxedo, the black bow tie being the cherry on top of his impeccably styled appearance. For a brief moment, Bateman studied your angry expression, his thick eyelashes batting like bird wings.

"It was Evelyn," he replied curly, standing still. "How delusional you must be to think I would invite you?"

Crossing his arms, Patrick smiled, and at first glance he seemed calm, but his slightly trembling lips betrayed him. With a soft chuckle, you moved closer until you noticed a beautiful bride's bouquet—a combination of roses again.

"So did Evelyn get what she wanted? I can see her in every little detail of this wedding. The Ziegfeld Ballroom was her idea too?"

The man sighed wearily and rubbed the bridge of his nose briefly. "No, my mother insisted."

"Oh," you beamed, carefully taking the bouquet in your noticeably shaking hands. "How sweet."

With a quick movement, Patrick snatched the flowers out of your hands and placed them back on the bathroom counter. "I had to walk around with this bouquet like an idiot, because I didn't even see Evelyn all this time!"

Such an outburst made you pause for a moment. "Relax, Bateman," you pretended to cheer him up. "Soon you'll be a family man."

The words forced him to clench his teeth as if they caused him physical pain. "Why did you come here, (y/n)?"

"Do you have any ideas?"

The distance between the two of you became smaller and smaller, melting like ice under the burning sun. You didn't even notice that every time he spoke, you couldn't take your eyes off his plump lips, his perfectly shaped chin that you wanted to touch, the way his eyebrows curled… God, you shouldn't have come here in the first place…

"I'm not gonna play your games anymore," Patrick suddenly blurted out, pulling you out of your lewd dreams. "If you came here just to get on my nerves, I'll tell security to kick you out."

"Woah, woah," you jerked back as Bateman stepped closer, your foreheads almost bumping into each other. "You seem very tense, marriage is a stressful thing, right?"

You continued to back away until you hit the wall behind you, and in the next second, the man caught you between his arms, placing them on either side of your trembling little form.

"Bateman?" You asked him breathlessly.

Frowning, he leaned down. You thought he was going to kiss you, but he just gasped and turned away. "I hate you," those words hurt you more than you could ever imagine. "Do you see these hands?" He asked, raising his hand and bringing it closer to your face. "I could break your neck so easily and watch your dead body fall to the ground."

A creeping fear rippled through your chest as he spoke. "You're kidding, right?" You tried to make a joke out of it, but as he tightened his grip around your throat like an iron ring, a muffled whimper escaped your tense lungs. "Ahh, w-what…"

Instead of actually hurting you, the dark-haired man brought you closer, so that your lips finally collided and the way you kissed was beyond any normalcy of kissing. Growling like a beast, Patrick literally bit into your trembling lips, almost tearing the soft flesh away, his grasp on your neck never loosening, only tightening when you dared to hug his shoulders, snuggling against him.

"Fuck," you cursed as he pulled away to nip at your neck. "You… scared the shit out of me! You psy…"

His hand abruptly covered your mouth, not letting you finish what you were about to say. "You came here because you couldn't forget me, huh? Because you are so fucking miserable in Chicago and no one gives a fuck about you?"

With your eyes shut tight, you whimpered against his palm at the faint physical contact with his hard groin. It was already too much, but then you heard a soft click of the door lock. 'Am I really going to die?' The thought alone made your knees weak. Meanwhile, Bateman was nuzzling against your cheek, inhaling your scent like an animal in rut, and you couldn't do anything, trapped in the strong arms you'd been dreaming about all these months.

The question he asked hung in the air for some time, even after Patrick removed his hand, waiting for your answer, you couldn't speak because… he was right. But to admit it would mean that you had lost. Lost in your own game.

"Why did you run away from me?" The man asked unexpectedly, his whole mood changing from wild to sad, bordering on despair. "Tell me!"

"I thought it would be better for both of us, okay?" You hated yourself for not finding better words, but it was so damn hard to think in a situation like this. "And I still think so."

With a wry grin, the man distanced himself a bit. "And that's why you're here with me… in some random bathroom… in the middle of my wedding?"

It did look familiar. That fleeting moment you gave in to temptation in the Tunnel that changed your life forever and for which you're still paying the price.

"You don't love her, do you?" You didn't even recognize your own voice.

"It's none of your business," Bateman replied before lowering his palm to your hip and squeezing it. "Now get on your knees, I don't have much time."

The audacity of this man was unbearable. Embarrassed but extremely aroused, you stifled a moan from the way he stroked your ass, encouraging you to obey. Biting your lower lip, you remembered how delicious this man tasted—a memory that haunted you every day—you should have resisted, you should have just stopped everything here and now, because there would be no happy ending.

‘I should have, but I can't,’ these six words flashed through your cloudy mind as you slid down the wall to meet the visible bulge in Patrick's tight pants.

"Good, good," he praised, casually unfastening his jacket and then his belt, just as you saw his white suspenders hugging his shoulders so deliciously that you had to hold your breath. "God, if I knew Evelyn was going to give me a wedding present like that, I'd postpone the wedding."

"You're a sick man," you murmured, but he just chuckled. "I hope you know that?"

"So are you.”

There was a small lounge chair in the other corner of the bathroom, and the moment Bateman saw it, you knew what he would do. Smirking mischievously, the man lifted you up with practiced ease and moved you to the chair, sitting down and spreading his toned legs so you could take your place between them. Patrick used all the self-control he had left to undo his pants without actually tearing them apart, his erection jutting out the moment he lowered the confines of his garments.

This scene made you lick your lips with undisguised hunger. Slowly, you leaned down between his wide-open legs and teasingly took his swollen tip into your mouth, then pulled away. "You're going to marry a woman who can't suck you off better than me, aren't you?"

Instead of taunting you back, the man grabbed the back of your head and made you take him deeper until your nose rubbed against his thick pubic hair, but it was still not enough, his cock was too big.

"Ahhh, what's that? Your mouth is too small to take me in?" Bateman commented cheekily as he watched your eyes get wet as you gagged. "You can only use it to say shit, but when it comes to real business…" the man pushed into your mouth again, fixing your head in one place. "…it doesn't seem to be useful."

"Mhmm," you tried to slip out of his grip, but he held you deadly tight. At one point you even wanted to use your teeth, but fortunately a loud commotion from outside attracted Patrick's attention and he let you go. "You…you are so pathetic…" you coughed several times, understanding that your end was near. "Even in a moment like this…you can't keep quiet! Like a fucking chatterbox…"

You wanted to say something else, but the way Bateman's dick pressed against your cheek, the weight of it, the warmth, it was all too overwhelming for both you and him, considering how tense Patrick's face was when you let his erection slide along your jaw as you descended lower to tease his sensitive balls with your tongue.

"Oh-fuck…" The man gasped, tilting his head back to lean against the wall and mumbling something incoherently.

Ashamed of what you were doing, you paused for a second, wondering what consequences awaited the two of you in the future. But all your attempts to stop yourself from falling into the abyss of consuming depravity were mercilessly crushed by reality— Bateman, all spread out for you, his cheeks blushing slightly as he enjoyed the oral pleasure you were giving him. This reality hit too hard. After all, you were enjoying that dick as well.

"So let it happen," you murmured suddenly before you wrapped your wet lips, covered with your saliva and his pre-cum, around his blushing shaft once more, your hands still rubbing his heavy sac. His skin was so soft there that you literally wanted to scream.

"W-what?" The man asked suddenly, as if he had just woken up from the enticing spell. "What are you talking about… are you so cock drunk that your brain can't function?"

At first, dirty talk like that could be really arousing, but now, hearing it for the hundredth time in a row, it was more amusing than hot. Without saying anything, you raised your eyes to him, your sneaky fingers delving deeper between his legs to stroke the rim of his tight muscles. A throaty moan escaped his suddenly dry lips. 'Cock drunk, huh?' You were proud of yourself, having a man like Patrick in a chokehold with your deliberate ministrations.

"Look at you, Bateman, you're such a naughty boy who loves it when someone plays with his ass?" You teased in between heavy gasps, as sucking such a huge cock was quite a challenge. "Does Evelyn even know about this?

Clenching his teeth, he tried to pull at your hair, but you dodged, pressing your finger persistently against his tight asshole before gently probing it, and you could swear to God, if heaven really existed, you wanted Patrick's moans to be music there.

"Uh, you're such a brat, babe," that nickname made you freeze. "This is going to end you one day…" His eyes rolled back into his head as you pushed your finger deeper into him, using a small amount of liquid on it as a lubricant. "(Y/n), you seem to need to bother your hands with something else…" you gave him a questioning look and he grinned in satisfaction, admiring the way his veiny, leaking dick slipped in and out of your lips. "Touch yourself… I know you want to…"

Fucking bastard. Why did he have to say it now? His words involuntarily triggered the memories of the lonely nights you spent in Chicago, masturbating almost every day when you thought of Patrick, telling yourself that he probably did the same. After all, maybe that was true?

As you pulled his cock out of your wet mouth, you quickly undid your belt and then your pants, pulling them down like an obstacle standing between you and mind-blowing pleasure. Locking your eyes with his walnut ones, you got up and tugged at the lapels of his jacket, forcing him to bend over so you could kiss him. Bateman didn't flinch, kissing you back, tasting himself on your lips and sucking on your tongue as you moaned shamelessly. Afterwards, you slipped a finger into his mouth and he licked it obediently before taking it inside.

"Oh, Patrick," you gasped before sitting down. "Why can't it be like this all the time?"

The brown-haired man smiled, exactly that smile that could make you commit a crime, how charming it was, it made you want to cry here and now.

Silently, Patrick leaned down to take your hand and place it between your legs, then he took your other hand and brought it back to his engorged dick, forcing you to resume your ministrations and from that moment on, you just let yourself go.

Rubbing your most sensitive spot, you whimpered and closed your eyes as you jerked him off, feeling the drops of his warm pre-cum dripping down your palm. Your orgasm was looming somewhere near, but it felt like the pleasure of your own hand was not enough. Bateman, as if he could read your mind, suddenly lifted you up by your shoulders, made you straddle him, and in the next moment you let him impale you on his thick cock, giving you the abundance you thought you had lost forever. A loud shriek echoed off the marble walls of the bathroom, a sound that made Patrick grin even more arrogantly as he knew that no one but him could make you feel complete.

He fucking knew it.

Groaning, the man grabbed your hips and set the pace, and at some point you found yourself riding him with pure abandon, literally bouncing on his beefy cock. "A-ahhh, Patrick, yes! Fuck-fuck me, just like that!" You mewled into his ear as he spanked your ass, squeezed your buttocks and spread them. "Mmhm…holy…shit…"

Another slap made you tremble on his lap. "So fucking needy for me," Bateman purred in a husky voice, his hair a mess, you managed to undo his bow tie and several top buttons to stroke his bulging chest. "Argh, you gonna make me cum, babe."

With that, he began to thrust his hips up, meeting yours with a shameless slapping sound. Dumbfounded, you were also so close, but you wanted him to fall first. Passionately rocking back and forth, you wrapped your hands around his neck, catching him off guard.

"You…you missed me just like I missed you…" That was more a statement than a question but the man didn't say anything, he just nodded with his eyes closed as he was completely lost in the embrace of incoming rapture. "SAY IT!" You nearly beat him into his chest. "Say…it…you bastard!"

Your crying compelled him to open his brown eyes which now were so dark, you could draw in them. "Yeah…" Each word was so hard for him to pronounce as his hips began to shake. "…I…I've missed you…too!" Patrick had to hide his face into the crook of your neck and before you knew it, the man bit into your soft flesh to the point of blood.

"A-AWWW, PATRICK!" You whimpered when you felt him exploding inside of you, shooting his hot load and sinking his teeth even deeper, holding you tightly in his strong arms.

"Shhh," the man strived to shush you, licking the fresh wound on your throat. "Just…take it…"

Still trembling, Bateman squeezed your hips so painfully, that you instinctively tried to pull away but he didn't allow you to. Sobbing, you cursed yourself for forgetting how rough he could be or…maybe you simply didn't know about this side of him? By the time Patrick stopped shaking, you were pumped with his seed till the brink, it was pouring out, staining the furniture beneath you, but no one cared. You sat like that for a moment until you began to move again as you still didn't reach your climax. With every buck of your hips against his, you hoped he would understand what you were asking for, but as soon as you reached out to kiss him, the man indifferently pulled away, tapping on your hip.

"Get up," Patrick commanded you, a bit annoyed.

"W-what?"

Bateman didn't repeat, taking you off from his lap before standing up on his feet and zipping his pants. Lost and confused, you sat on the floor, watching him sliding his hair back, opening the faucet and cleaning his face.

What the fuck was that?

"Bateman?" You stammered, finding yourself in the most humiliating position ever.

"You better clean yourself up, too," he commented briefly without looking at you, his voice drenched in venom. "You don't want the guests to think someone brought a hooker here, do you?"

Furrowing your brows, you ran a hand down your tear streaked cheek. "You're going to stop talking to me like that, or…"

"Or what?"

Anger and despair mixed together in a cocktail of pure madness. You wanted to fucking beat this man until he begged for mercy, but unfortunately, it was you sitting on the cold floor with your bare ass, his cum flowing shamelessly between your thighs.

"Fucking scumbag!" You yelled, picking up your shoe to throw it at him, but he quickly moved aside. "You're going to regret this…pathetic…"

Bateman started to say something but was distracted by several female voices. He checked himself in the mirror for the last time and finally spared you with his pitiful look. "You're going to walk around my WEDDING with my SEED inside you. Maybe you should look in the mirror and think about who's really pathetic in this room?"

And then he left.

Being left like that has set your body on fire, your nervous system was on the verge of bursting, but you managed to pull yourself together, gritting your teeth to suppress a loud scream. You felt nauseous, the bite on your neck was bleeding and aching, you were even afraid to touch it. Knowing that the door was now unlocked, you couldn't sit there any longer, so you gathered all the strength you had left to pull yourself up and get dressed. Then you slowly moved to the place where Patrick had been standing moments ago…but it felt like it had been so long ago, as time had stopped. After you cleaned yourself, you were really lucky to find a first aid kit, so you managed to clean your wound as well.

The ceremony had already begun when you finally decided to leave the bathroom. Dazed, you stumbled around like you were drunk. You couldn't remember how you found your way to the main event, where a large altar awaited the newlyweds.

All the guests were in their seats, and you moved stealthily, trying not to attract unwanted attention. The last row of chairs was almost empty, and when you suddenly recognized Timothy Bryce, lonely sitting there, you didn't hesitate to sit next to him.

"Well, well, well," you mused, a little cheered up. "Hello, Bryce."

The dark-haired man almost jumped in his seat when he saw you. "Jesus Christ, (y/n)? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Mmhm, Evelyn invited me."

Timothy visibly grew sadder. " Right…she probably tried to invite all the people in New York."

This sudden change in his demeanor confused you. "Tim? What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

The music began to play exactly when you opened your mouth to ask some more curious questions. Soon, the priest and several other people appeared in the alley. They walked up to the altar, everyone around was excited to see the main stars of this event. And as if that were not enough, some women in front of you began to cheer so loudly that you had to cover your ears.

"Stupid bitches." Tim grumbled as he sat back.

"Craig and David…where are they?"

Bryce pointed to other seats that were almost next to the altar. "They're with their chicks and they want the best seats."

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, avoiding craning your neck when it wasn't needed because it still hurt. "I see…and I thought they were doing coke without you."

"They did."

"Really? And what about you?"

The man sighed. "No coke is enough to get lost."

Now it was even stranger.

Another loud reaction from the guests signaled that something was starting to happen. You have to stand up a little to see the tall figure moving down the alley—it was Bateman, looking like he was not the one who fucked you in the small bathroom an hour ago. The way he smiled at the guests made you want to puke. Timothy noticed your trepidation and narrowed his eyes curiously.

"Are you okay?" He asked, not paying attention to what was happening near the altar. "You look unhealthy."

"I… I'm fine, it's just… it's very hot in here." You wanted to loosen your collar, but then you remembered the bite, so you had to sit like that.

In a few minutes the music changed and then Evelyn appeared, accompanied by her father who led her to the altar where Patrick was waiting for her. You held your breath and bit the inside of your cheek, but you forced yourself to look at the way Bateman took Evelyn's hands in his, touching them with absolute tenderness. A single drop of sweat trickled down your forehead and you probably intended to chew your cheek until it bled, but you didn't care. Nothing mattered now, nothing could hurt you, you felt like a ghost destined to walk the earth in search of its salvation. Only when the priest said that the newlyweds could kiss now, you turned away and so did Tim.

When the official part of the ceremony was over, Patrick and Evelyn walked out of the room towards an unknown destination, you and Bryce just sat there, not even talking, just sitting, as if you had nowhere to go.

"I'll get us some drinks." Timothy suddenly rumbled and stood up as quickly as the idea had occurred to him.

You didn't even have a chance to answer. You closed your eyes and rubbed your face tiredly when you heard a child's voice next to you. Turning sideways, you opened your eyes to see a little girl with a small bag in her hands. "Oh, hi…could you please repeat what I need to do?"

The girl smiled and opened the bag in an inviting gesture. "Pull your hand in and choose your destiny advice!" Giggling, you did as she said. Soon you were unfolding a small piece of paper. "What does it say?" The girl asked with undisguised curiosity.

After you rolled up the paper completely, you could read the text. "Find the courage to face your destiny." You swallowed nervously, on the verge of tears again.

"You didn't like it?" The little girl asked you, her face turning sad as well.

"No! Of course not, thank you very much!" You tried to smile. "You're so sweet, thank you!"

The girl suddenly hugged you. "Please don't be sad!"

And with that, the little child picked up her bag and ran to another person, doing the same thing she did to you. Nervously holding the piece of paper in your sweaty hands, you reread the text until several wet stains appeared on the paper. 'I am such a fool.' Wiping away tears, you heard several footsteps behind you. 'God, what if it's him?'

Excited, you turned to see Tim holding two cocktails. "They don't have anything strong."

You took the drink and watched Bryce sitting next to you. "Thanks Tim."

"No problem," he took a sip before looking at the piece of paper in your hands. "What is this?"

"Uh, nothing, just a childish game." You mumbled and took a sip of your cocktail.

After a minute of total silence, Timothy suddenly rested his arm on the back of his chair. "You know, maybe some coke is not such a bad idea after all," he looked at you, his dull eyes now glinting with a mischievous spark. "And since you're here… do you have any plans?"

"No," you replied frankly. "I… I have no plans, Bryce."

Nodding to himself, the man sat a little closer. "What about you coming to my place?"

Fidgeting in your chair, you wanted to turn to face him, but instead you hissed in pain, how crazy must the man be to leave such a mark? You crumpled the piece of paper in your fist and felt your nails digging into your skin, but still no pain came.

"Why not?" You finally replied, giving Bryce a smile he couldn't ignore as he smiled back.

'When one door closes, another always opens.' Was that what the taxi driver told you yesterday? A quote that had made you cringe in skepticism now played with different colors. But in the end, life was a good thing, even when you thought it was not.

Right?

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines #patrick bateman x male reader

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satorusugurugurl · 5 months ago

Text

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Seven)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 3,938

Warning: Language, nightmares, mentions of character death, panic attack, night terror, blood, PTSD,

A/N: We probably have three or four more chapters to go! Ugh, I can't believe it's coming to an end! 🥹😭💚

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

Suguru is too stunned to speak as he sees the tears in your eyes. He reaches over, snatching the phone out of your hand, glaring down at his phone screen. Sure as shit Manami had texted him that for the twelfth time in the last week. Rubbing a hand through his hair, Suguru sighs.

“Princess, it’s not what it sounds like.”

You sniffle, wiping away the tears that had quickly appeared in your eyes, surprising your best friend and yourself. “It’s not?” Suguru reaches out, cupping your face and brushing your cheekbone with his thumb.

“No, I was offered a position in Okinawa to paint a mural. It’s a massive project that would take me roughly four months. This is the project I keep turning down.”

“Oh!” The light returns to your eyes, slowly fading away at the mere prospect of him leaving. “Okay, uhm—” you smile, “that’s good to hear.” Suguru grins, ruffling your hair. “What’s the project.”

His hand was still on top of your head, eyes glancing down at you and thought. Did he want to tell you what the project was about? He just stopped having nightmares about Riko, bringing up the commission he was offered by dragging up those memories again. But if you were going to be staying the night with him again, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal, should it?

“It’s for the aquarium in Okinawa.”

When Suguru mentions Okinawa and the aquarium, you automatically put everything together without him saying another word. He didn’t take the job because of the memories that lingered and that place. Memories of Riko, the girl he blamed himself for not saving. That was probably the number one—reason why he wouldn’t take this job.

You swallow as he turns back towards the pan and continues cooking the peppers. “It must have been a big project if they wanted you to stay down there for four months.” He nodded as he moved the spatula across the pan, stirring the peppers. “What exactly did they want you to do?” The spatula stops moving as Suguru sighs in defeat. He knew you now that you had this idea eating away at you. He knew you wouldn’t stop until you got an answer.

“Well, you know my agent isn’t the most considerate. She goes about sharing my artwork with potential clients unethically.” The spatula moves across the pan again. “She has a bad habit of taking pictures of unfinished projects and posting them online for everyone and anyone to see. The latest picture she took was that of Riko at the aquarium with the blue whales.”

“God, I cannot stand that woman!”

Your best friend chuckled, nodding his head as the peppers in the pan began to sizzle, the fragrant aroma of cooking food wafting over your senses. “Oh, I know you can't.” his shoulder sank, eyes distant, “That didn’t stop her from sharing a picture of my unfinished project online.”

Not only was it wrong for her to share something unfinished online for all his followers to see, but that was also something close to Geto’s heart. It was like his personal project revolving around a girl that he blamed himself for not saving even though there was no chance he could’ve saved her.

“So I’m guessing the aquarium saw it.”

“Yep, they want me to go down to Okinawa and paint a large mural with the same thing as a mural inside the aquarium.”

This project was a huge opportunity for him to paint something so massive for thousands and thousands of people to see; it would have already been growing larger. Painting a mural like that could open doors of possibilities for him. Suguru could be looking at hundreds of different commissions, whether small or larger projects like this one.

Even if it was an excellent opportunity for him, you knew there was no way he was going to go back to Okinawa in the near future. Far too many painful memories were associated with that place in your second-year trip. Despite plenty of happy memories from that trip, all Suguru saw when he reminisced was blood. But he still believes his hands are stained, no matter how often he scrubs them clean.

“Are you sure turning it down is a good idea?”

Suguru’s eyes widened at your words before slowly turning his head to look back at you. “What?” his voice was thick with confusion and pain.

“Well, I—” you sighed, “this might be a big chance for you.” Your best friend turned around, eyebrows pinched together. “And it might give you a chance to finally get some closure.”

“Closure?”

“Yeah, you can never heal if you do—”

“I’m healed. I don’t need that shit; I’m over it.”

“Suguru— you’re still having nightmares and—”

His dark eyes went darker as he glared down at the floor. “Yeah, I do, but I witness something pretty fucking traumatic too.” Oh fuck, this was not how you wanted this conversation to go.

“Right, of course! That’s normal, but I think if you—”

“Oh, you think what? You think if I go to Okinawa and reminisce of a girl that died because of me, some Disney movie shit will happen, and I’ll be magically healed?”

“Suguru, hold on—”

He laughed cold and dark as he took the pan off the stove again, tossing it on a burner. “Because I think if I go down there in the same aquarium she did across the street where she died. I don’t think it’ll help. I think it’ll make things worse” he turned the stove off, facing away from you.

You knew Riko was a sore spot for him. She always had been since her death. But you didn’t realize it was still as bad as it was since the accident. Seeing him so frustrated made your heartbreak into one million pieces. You wanted to help him with the heal. So you got up from your seat and walked around the bar, slowly approaching him as if he were an injured animal. Slowly, place your hand on his back, expecting him to relax.

His back remains stiff. Muscles tense as he shakes his head, looking back at you. Your eyes roamed over his face as you tried to think what to say when you had said more than enough.

Suguru pulled away from you, heading into the living room without a word. “Sugu!”? Your best friend listens to your bare feet shredding over the floor. “Suguru, stop and listen to me!” He turned, glaring down at you

“No, you stop.” His words had stopped your momentum. “Out of everyone, I thought you would be the only person who could understand how I can never go back there.” his voice sounded as broken as he looked. “I can’t go back there and face it alone.”

How your face fell was enough to tell Suguri that this conversation was finally over. He cleared his throat, nausea settling in his stomach, creeping up his esophagus. Tonight was supposed to be a quiet night with dinner and movies. The last thing he wanted to do was fight, and with the silence and the far-off look in your eyes, Suguru knew his plans for the evening had been ruined.

“Alright.” you started. Suguru had expected you to grab your bag and leave, but instead, you headed into the kitchen, turning the stove back on. “I’ll go with you.” You placed the pan back over the heat nonchalantly like nothing had happened.

“Huh?” he must’ve misheard you. He had to have because there was no way you just said that, not after he had barked at you.“What?”

Stir the peppers in the pan before looking back at your best friend with a warm, broad smile. “I said I’ll go with you if you can’t face alone, I’ll join you.” hearing you say that had the nausea stirring in the pit of Suguru’s stomach, but it wasn’t from grief or anxiety, but from how much he liked you.

“But—you—”

“I what?” You cocked an eyebrow as you added heavy cream to the pan with some butter. “I work from my apartment. My desk is my laptop, iPad, or my phone. I can go wherever I want and still work on my book. So it’s not like there’s a job holding me back.”

Suguru quickly headed back into the kitchen with you, watching as you stirred the peppers and cream together, making a sauce. “But you have meetings with Nanami and Utahime. Can you put that on hold for me?” You squatted down, pulling out his stock pot from underneath the cabinet and handing it to him.

“There’s this amazing new thing out there called FaceTime and Zoom. I can send emails if I have to meet with any of them. I can do a conference call from anywhere in the world. That wouldn’t be a problem. A change of scenery might be nice for me. Can you fill that pot with water, please?”

You so casually talked about packing up your life for four months to join him on a job that would most likely change his life forever, and butterflies were swarming in his abdomen. He knew you were great. You were always a good friend. But this is above and beyond words. If you were to join him, he might be able to go to the aquarium to walk the same street he had done back in high school. You might be right. This might be exactly what he needed.

Because he knew the nightmares would never stop, his therapist knew that he wouldn’t stop until he faced those demons. It was the only way he was going to be able to heal. To face everything head-on and talk about what happened.

He had never talked about it with anyone other than his therapist.

Suguru put the pot on the counter, wrapping his arms around you instead. He buried his face in the crook of your neck while his arms hooked tightly around your waist. One of your delicate hands came up, resting over his, holding you tight. It was a gentle gesture; one Suguru melted over.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to bring bad memories.” your voice was soft as you gripped his hand tightly. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I know you do—I’m sorry I got so upset.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He pulled his head away from your neck just as you turned your face to look at him. “I just care a lot about you. I want you to be happy. I should’ve known better than being so insensitive.”

Suguru gently grabbed your chin, and for a second, you thought maybe he would kiss you. One that didn’t revolve around your book or research that you both were still hiding behind. Hell, no other than a kiss. He moves in closer towards you, nearly an inch away from each other. Your eyes were about to close when he pressed his forehead against yours, giving you another squeeze against his body.

“You weren't; you're just looking out for me.”

“O-Of course, I care about you.”

Suguru released his grip on you, picked up the stock pot, and headed to the sink to fill it with water as requested. As he watched the stream of water slowly fill the pot, he realized he couldn’t hide behind helping you anymore. He needed to be upfront and tell you how he felt. Especially now that you were offering to go to Okinawa with him, that would be four months of just being the two of you. After four months of you living together, he was positive he wouldn’t be able to hold back his feelings for you anymore.

Telling you the truth and not hiding behind some stupid idea that he was helping you with your book wouldn’t last because he knew he wouldn’t be able to put up that facade much longer. He almost lost it tonight. Suguru was going to kiss you for being kind and selfless, making sure he had the opportunity to return to the place he associated with blood and death.

He just needed to figure out how the fuck he was going to tell you how he felt.

He found himself sitting with Gojo, Nanami, Shoko, and Haibara. He needed his friends. They would know what to do and what to say because they knew you just as well as they knew him. Suguru sipped his beer, rolling his eyes as Gojo looked at him dumbfounded.

“Wait, you guys aren't dating?!”

“For the fifth time, we’re not dating.”

“But you have some agreement that you guys are going to fool around work on research for her book?”

Satoru gulped down his cola, dark sunglasses reflecting the restaurant's lights above him. “But I caught you guys in the alley?! I thought you finally told her how you felt!” Suguru was beginning to regret turning to his friends for advice.

“I haven't.”

The table grows silent; Satoru and Shoko share a flabbergasted look while Nanami scrolls through his phone glasses, running down the bridge of his nose. Haibara hums deep thought advice that he could give Suguru. He should’ve been honest with you and not used some stupid excuse to get together.

Was it even possible for the two of you to grow from this? Were you stuck in this situation he had made? It was like a labyrinth of lies because he was afraid to tell you he loved you.

Suguru throws his head back, looking at the fluorescent light fixtures above him. He needed to come to a decision because the two of you were about to leave for Okinawa in the morning. If he didn’t tell you how he felt, soon he might combust and make a full out of himself. Being in a small condo with you, sharing a bed, bathroom, and kitchen! How was he supposed to live with you like a couple and not tell you how he felt?

“I don't think you have anything to worry about.” All heads turned towards Nanami as he put his phone down. “Because I’m almost certain she feels the same way about you.”

“Oh yeah? How did you figure that out, Nanami?” Haibara excitedly asked his best friend.

“Her writing has improved tremendously, and I’m not talking about the intimate scenes. Those were some of the best I’ve read in the industry.” Nanami chugged down some of his beer. “Her description of the attraction and the love Oaklynn has for Ilsan is so genuine; it comes from the heart. You can’t write like that without knowing how it feels.”

Suguru flushed a dusty rose color before he took another hesitant sip of his beer. Was it possible that you felt the same way he did? Were all these long nights of kissing and touching each other making you realize you had feelings for him?

Downing the rest of his beer, Suguru slammed the glass down on the table. “What do I need to do?” He asked as he eyed each of his friends. The four shared before Shoko downed the rest of her drink, leaning back against the booth.

“You tell her the truth.”

While Suguru slowly accepted that he could no longer hide this, you faced your own dilemma across town. You gently slammed your head down on the table you were sitting at. Utahime winced each time your forehead connected with the surface, stealing a look at Yuki, who was snickering.

“Please don't laugh at me.” Hearing the anguish in your voice ceased your friends' giggles as Choso patted your back. “I’m in the midst of an extensional crisis, and you're fucking laughing.”

“Hey, I just think it’s hilarious you're barely realizing Suguri likes you.” Yuki threw her arm around Choso, pressing her cheek against his. “Let's review; the man offered to help you with intimate scenes; you've been hooking up almost every weekend, you said?”

With a blush, you sighed, pouting as you placed your chin on the table, looking up at Yuki. “More like every other night.” the trio before you blinked in silence before Yuki puffed her cheeks out to fight back laughter.

“Yuki, please!”

“Ignore her.” Utahime finally injected as she pushed Yuki’s face away with her hand. “So, with this agreement you both made, you want more? Like more in an intimate sense, like sex. Or more in the aspect of a relationship with him?”

The fact that the answer hit you like a bag of bricks made everything clearer. “I want to be with him.” There was no second-guessing, hesitation, or doubt in your words—just the pure raw truth. Utahime smiled, nodding, while Yuki beamed, reaching over and smacking you. Saying it out loud felt good. But you weren't sure if you could say it out loud to Suguru himself. “But how do I tell him? I-I’m sure I would freeze up if I even attempted to say that to his face.”

“You don’t tell him.” Yuki, with a certain confidence, had all of you looking at her. “You show him.”

“For God's sake, Yuki.”

“Hey! It worked for me and Cho! Suguru seems like the type of guy who likes a woman who takes action! When you get to Okinawa tomorrow and take the second step inside the condo, grab the shirt, slam your lips against his, and tell him you want him!”

“Okay—Yuki, no, that's a—”

“Terrific idea!”

The way you so excitedly agreed to do something out of your comfort zone had your agent deadpanning at you. Your eyes showed a glimmer as you slammed both fists down on the table. Your cheeks were flushed, and there was a certain glow around you. One that was so blissful and elated with joy. You always had one of those looks when you came up with a new story or a twist from your chapters. Whenever you had a look like that, there was no stopping you. Which was both a blessing and a curse

”Look, maybe that isn’t the right way to go about this; perhaps you should talk with him.” Both you and Yuki stared at Utahime with questioning expressions. “Or not; I guess you can do whatever you want. I—this is Geto Suguru we are talking about. He’s smart and polite; it’s not like he’s Gojo.” All you knew was that it was just her dislike of Suguru’s other best friend. Gojo was stupid smart,

“No, I have to do this; I have to be the one to tell him what I want.”

The rest of the dinner with your friends went smoothly; they all talked about anything and everything while you stared into the distance with a smile. The thought of showing Suguru how much he meant to you and how much you liked him was exciting, and you couldn't wait to be in Okinawa with him.

After you finished dinner, you and Utahime waved off Yuki and Choso before you eagerly bounced as you waited for your Uber. The entire time you stood there rocking as you searched for the car, Utahime fidgeted with her bag, glancing towards the street before looking at you from the corner of her eye. You knew she didn't think showing Suguru how you felt was the best way to convey your feelings, but you also knew it would work out!

She probably needed to hear you repeat it, so she knew you were positive that this was the best way to tell him. Before you even have a chance to open your mouth, your agent is whirling towards you, grabbing her phone out of her pocket. She swallows her dark eyes and darts towards the cellular device in her hand before meeting your gaze. The look in her eyes is one you had seen before. When the agency had an issue with a specific chapter or a problem with the cover art they designed, this wasn’t the look of a friend. This is your agent who helped you with your career.

All cheerful giddiness was flushed out of your body as you straightened, trying to shift from a love-sick schoolgirl to the professional author that you were. Utahime notices the change in your stand and how your face went from happy to professional in the blink of an eye. Seeing you shift into work mode had her tapping on her screen.

“What happened?” Your question goes unanswered just as she hesitantly holds her phone in a tight grip. “Iori, talk to me.”

“I know tonight was supposed to be a fun outing with us, not bringing up work, but I need to talk to you about this before you leave.”

“Okay.”

“It’s about the cottage.”

As the driver pulls up, he rolls down the window with a gentle smile. “Miss, were you waiting for an Uber?” When you don't respond right away, he takes a long, hard look at you, and he frowns.

Tears are running down your cheeks before dripping off your chin. Your skin is flushed, your knuckles clenched around your bag as Utahime harshly whispers at you, holding her phone in your face. To the driver, he fought; maybe you just found out your boyfriend was cheating, or something had happened to a mutual friend. In reality, Utahime was telling you you needed to make a choice. One that would end in heartbreak for either you or Suguru.

But it was a choice you made the second she told you what was going on—a choice you didn't need to think about because you already had made your decision.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

ITHK Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26 @moonlightazriel @candy-s72

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purplecoffee13 · 6 months ago

Text

Nemesis with Benefits - Part 2

Summary: “You come over to help your friend with setting up their new couch, but soon you find out that you weren’t the only one

Wc: 4.6k

Tropes: enemies to lovers

Warnings: mention of blood and cheating. loads of banter and tension…

A/N: Hey guys! Here is the second part of Nemesis with Benefits! The tension is brewing and it’s stirring up nothing but confusion!!! I’m so excited about this series, and I’m so grateful to see it getting such a good response. Enjoy!!!

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

From Benjamin:

HELP I CANT GET MY COUCH TOGETHER😭

Can someone pls come over and help?

You stare at the text messages Benjamin sent in the group chat. You are quick to open your agenda app to see if you are free to help your friend. Before you can even text Benjamin that you're available, and will come over soon, he calls you. You pick up.

"Help!" Benjamin's panicked voice sounds from the other side of the line. "If I have to tackle this couch alone for one more minute, I'm gonna kill someone. And since the couch and I are the only things in the room, it's probably gonna be me!"

You stifle a laugh. "I was just about to text you that I'll come over. Stay there. Don't move, and don't kill yourself."

"I'll try." Benjamin whines dramatically. You roll your eyes as you hang up on your friend, and grab your headphones and jacket.

Within two minutes, you are outside your building and walking to Benjamin's apartment. He moved into an apartment building off campus this summer. A couple of weeks ago his couch—which was already on the verge of breaking—broke, and he had to order a new one. Not that he minded; he loved shopping for anything. He'd always join you whenever you would run errands.

It takes no more than ten minutes to get to Benjamin's apartment building, though, because it is quite close to campus. Plus, you are a fast walker, so you are always a couple of minutes faster.

You ring the doorbell and Benjamin lets you into the building. After riding the elevator, you walk to Benjamin's apartment. He is already waiting in the doorway and gives you a big hug once you're within reach.

"Oh thank God you're here!" He exclaims, hugging you so tight that it is getting hard to breathe. "You are truly the only reliable friend I have around here."

"I'm happy to be of help, babe." You choke out a laugh, pulling out of the embrace, and walking past Benjamin into his living room.

“Now, let’s see what this evil couch is about…”

************************************************

30 minutes later

"How did you manage, out of all couches in the world, to buy the most complex and pain in the ass one?!" You huff, a drop of sweat running down your forehead. You are sitting crisscross applesauce, hunched over, trying to figure out the way this stupid couch is set up.

You managed to get halfway before getting stuck. Step 17 was the devil in disguise, and it had you developing lower back pain and a stress induced headache. Still, you were determined to figure it out. Benjamin asked you for help, and if the help couldn't manage to assemble this couch, you knew he would leave this unfinished for weeks.

"The people at the store said it was easy!" Benjamin protests with a sigh.

"Yeah, maybe for people who sell couches for a living. Not for broke students who prepare all their food in the microwave!" You say, frowning at the couch. Benjamin's killing comment from earlier isn't seeming as dramatic as it did before. You might just throw this couch—or yourself—out the window.

There's a faint knock on the front door. You aren't sure if there is even someone there, but the way Benjamin skips to the door washes the doubt away.

"Hey! What are you doing here?!" Benjamin's voice sounds slightly distressed. You look up to see who he let in, and your face falters immediately at the sight of Harry walking into the living room.

"You said you needed help, so I—" Harry stops talking once he spots you too, and he sighs. Your eyes widen. He has the nerve to actually sigh? What a douchebag!

"I'm going to the bathroom." You say, glaring Harry down as you move out of the living room. You hear some footsteps behind you, and you know that Benjamin is following you. You let him enter the bathroom with you, and turn around as he closes the door.

"I can't believe you would let him come over while I'm here!" You cross your arms. You are quite upset with Benjamin, but even more so with Harry. The sole sight of his smug face sets you off. He annoys you to no end.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know! I texted him, and he never responded. He just comes over without warning a lot. This wasn't intentional, I swear." Benjamin explains, and you can tell that he's sincere. Benjamin can be almost as much of a pain in the butt as his stupid couch, but he would never intentionally hurt you. But Harry would, and he did.

"I just..." you take a deep breath before you make the confession you've been bothered with for a while now. "Harry hurt me, a lot. And you're still friends with him..."

It's Benjamin's turn to sigh. He grabs your arms and levels with you, searching for your eyes.

"Harry is on the bench." He tells you, like you are supposed to know what that means.

"You know we're building you a couch, not a bench—"

"No, dumbass!" Benjamin interrupts you. "Harry's on the friendship bench. He was demoted to second string. He ain't playing in the game that I call my inner circle."

You sigh. "Okay, could you just leave the metaphors for a second and tell me what you mean—"

"I punched him." He shrugs as if it is as simple as ever. You, however, have your mouth hanging wide open.

"You punched Harry?"

"Of course I did. What he did to you was beyond shitty, and he totally deserved it." Benjamin confirms, and your heart sinks at the fact that you doubted his loyalty to you in the first place. "But Harry has been one of my best friends since high school. And what happened— well... let's just say that the story is not totally black and white."

That makes you feel a bit offended. "What is not black and white about this situation? Dylan cheated, Harry participated."

"I agree, that part is black and white. That's why I punched him." He nods his head. "Now, you can go home, and I will try and assemble this stupid couch with him. I totally understand that you don't want to stay here."

"No!" You say angrily. Benjamin's eyebrows crease into a frown, almost as surprised as you by your drive to stay here.

"But—"

"Why?! So he can brag about the couch that I basically put together?!" You murmur as you cross your arms, eyes squinting a bit at the thought of him walking around with that inflated ego of his. There is absolutely no way he is getting another something of yours, again!

"Y/N, it's just a couch—" Benjamin tries to argue, but you won't hear of it.

"This is not about the stupid couch!" You blurt out. This shuts him up. He stares at you for a few seconds with this look in his eyes that reads 'go home, don't do this'. But you don't feel like listening, so you walk past him, out of the bathroom and back into the living room.

"I don't think this is a good idea!" Benjamin calls out from the bathroom.

"Too bad!" You call back. Benjamin is right on your heels and right next to you by the time you stand in front of Harry again. He has already seated himself in the place where you were sitting just now. He's got the manual in one hand and a screw driver in the other.

"I fixed the problem. You were using the wrong screws." Harry says, the comment more directed at Benjamin than at you. But you take it personally anyway, because you are the one who selected the screws. You walk over to him and snatch the manual out of his hands.

"I read it five times, I definitely used the right—" upon reading step 17 for the fifth time, you finally see the name of the screws you were supposed to use. Your brain tends to mash up words after a while, and all the screws' names really read alike.

When you look up from the piece of paper, you see Harry smirking at you. He knows he's right, and he knows you know he's right, and that makes you incredibly angry. He shouldn't be allowed to be right, ever. Not in front of you, at least.

With a groan, you sit yourself down next to Harry and snatch the screwdriver out of his hand before burying your nose into the manual again. You mutter a small profanity under your breath, and Harry just scoffs at the sound of it.

This is gonna be a long evening...

************************************************

"Fuck." Harry curses, mainly to himself, when the leg of the couch doesn't stay in place once again. He has tried three times now, not letting you help him.

"I told you to—"

"Shut up." Harry growls, not even sparing a glance at you. He is heavily concentrating on his failing work.

"This could be solved quicker if you'd just listen to me." You tell him, reaching towards the sofa table where you've put all the screws and other necessary stuff for building this couch.

"No. This could be solved quicker if you'd just let me look at the manual." Harry responds. You squint at him, even though he can't see you. He'll feel the hate of your withering stare nonetheless.

You don't say anything, though, keeping yourself as you sort out the screws that lie in front of you. It has been an hour of sitting with Harry and trying to piece this couch together. So far you have had the upper hand, mainly because you have the manual.

Benjamin tried to help the first 30 minutes, but after being snarled at too many times, he resigned to cleaning his kitchen. So now you are sitting alone with Harry.

"Okay... done. What's next?" Harry asks, looking at you and the manual in your lap. You don't return the glance, still focused on counting the amount of screws you need.

"Wait."

Harry rolls his eyes. "If you'd just give me the stupid manual—"

"Damn it! Now I lost count." You look up and glare at Harry. "Could you shut up for a second?"

"Nope. Give me the manual." He crosses his arms. Leaning against the wall behind him. You shake your head. There is no way he is getting this piece of paper.

"No."

You go back to counting the screws, when all of a sudden the manual is snatched away from your lap. Your mouth falls open and your eyes follow the way Harry's hands take it away. You are about to cuss him out, when Benjamin's voice announces something from behind you.

"Guys, I have a class in twenty minutes, so I have to go. C'mon, I can finish the couch another time." He says and you don't miss the relief in his voice. He's probably already happy that his apartment didn't blow up in the first ten minutes of you and Harry being in the same room.

"It's fine. I can finish it up. Won't take long, now that I've got the manual and everything." Harry offers with a smile. Jaw clenched, you swallow his stupid comment and also turn to your friend.

"I'll stay too. Have to finish what I started."

There is no way in hell you're letting Harry get away with acting like he built this whole couch by himself, when it was actually just the step 17 and about five others after that.

"Oh, that's very sweet, but I don't know if—"

"We won't kill each other, I promise." I try to reassure him, hoping to get some backing from Harry about this.

"We won't?"

You turn around and give Harry your greatest death stare.

"I'm just saying, you were being pretty aggressive with that screwdriver just now." He puts his hands up defensively. You sigh, redirecting your attention back to your friend.

"Fine. I promise to refrain from impaling Harry's head with a screwdriver until we're outside of the apartment." You say.

"Yeah, that sounds more believable." Harry murmurs approvingly.

Benjamin looks at the two of you, thinking it over for a bit. Everything about his face reads that he thinks this is a bad idea. You don't blame him the slightest, but you let your eyes plead him to let you do this anyway. You need it. The exact reason why, you don't know. But... you just need this.

"Okay." Benjamin finally says, earning a smile from you. "Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge. I'll be back in about two hours."

"Aye aye captain." You joke, giving your friend a hug before returning to the floor alongside Harry. You hear the rattling of the house keys Benjamin grabbed from the counter, and watch as he walks to his front door.

"Don't get blood on my new couch." He shouts just in time for the door to slam shut. You take a deep breath, the fact that you are alone with Harry now really kicking in.

It's fine. You can do this. He sucks.

"Can you tell me how many screws I needed again?" You ask, attempting to be as polite as you possibly can to the guy your boyfriend cheated on you with.

"I don't know, can I? Oh wait, of course I can. Because I have the manual." He taunts, flicking the pages to step 25. He reads and reads, and a smirk forms on his face as his head lifts up.

"Guess."

"Don't be an asshole. Just tell me, I want to get this over with." You say, your head tilting. The look in your eyes radiates seriousness, and for a moment you think Harry understands how you're feeling.

"Erm, that wasn't a guess, that was just words."

If it was physically possible to exert steam from your ears, you would've looked like an old train. You groan and lean forward to snatch the manual away from Harry, but he is quick to move it out of reach. He holds it over his head.

"Aw c'mon, it was just a joke!" Harry teases even further. You are seeing red with rage and it takes everything to not scream every foul word in the book at him.

"It's not funny!" You try to grab the paper again, but Harry is too swift for you.

"It kind of is."

"No it's not! Nothing about this is funny!" You suddenly snap. "I don't want to be here with you. I just want to finish building this stupid couch and go home, so please give me the manual."

"Then why are you still here?!" Harry inquires firmly, a deep frown knitted onto his face.

"Why are you?!" You fire back, frustrating grown with each second that your eyes bore into his.

"I asked you a question, Y/N. I told Benjamin I'd do it myself, you cannot stand me. There is no logical reason for you to still be here, so why the fuck are you?"

"Because I can't let you take another thing from me!"

You blurt out confession before you have a chance to stop yourself, and your cheeks instantly go red with embarrassment. Harry's mouth hangs slightly open at the collection of words that just left your mouth. You avoid his eyes burning onto your skin as you try to steady your breathing. Your heart is pounding out of your chest.

"Just give me the stupid manual." You mumble, snagging it from his unsuspecting hands. You open the little book to your page, but the hiss that leaves Harry's mouth has you looking up at him. Your eyes widen at the sight of blood.

Dripping from Harry's hand is quite a bit of blood. Shit, you gave him a huge paper cut. Guilt washes over you, and you rush to the kitchen and back to give him some paper towels. Out of instinct, you wrap the towels around his hand. You are closer to Harry than you would normally be, but it's an emergency—one that you caused—so there's a necessary reason for it.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to— let's get you to the kitchen." You put some pressure on his small wound and drag him to the kitchen. Harry doesn't say anything, but he lets you lead anyway. It is like your confession has shut him up, which is very rare because Harry never shuts up.

You put Harry's injured hand under the faucet and let the water wash away the blood. You get a better look of the cut and can deduce that a little bit of bandage would be best to keep a bit of pressure on it for now. You tell Harry to keep his hand in the same place, and reach for the first aid box you bought Benjamin as one of his housewarming gifts. This one was more of a joke, but it comes in handy now.

By the time you've collected everything you need, you turn off the faucet and dry Harry's hand with some new paper towels. It is completely silent between the two of you as you dap the towels onto his skin. But you can feel Harry's stare. It doesn't surprise you very much when he speaks up.

"I'm sorry."

Your body stops everything it was doing and takes in the apology for a few seconds, then resumes back to drying Harry's hand

"I'm gonna put some bandage around your hand. It'll keep pressure on the cut. You'll be able to switch to a band aid after a while." You casually explain, choosing to ignore his words. You don't really have the mental capacity to deal with it right now.

"Y/N, I'm not just saying it. I mean it, I'm sorry." Harry almost pleads. You look at him and hate the sincerity that flashes through his eyes. You'd prefer it if it wasn't there. It's gonna turn out to be bullshit anyway; he shouldn't be saying it like he means it. "What I— we did was stupid, I shouldn't have done that. I was just... I was in love, and I thought—"

"I don't want to listen to your excuses, Harry." You interrupt him. "You may have your reasons, but you did what you did. It already happened, you can't talk yourself out of it."

"I'm not trying to talk myself out of it."

"Then what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to tell you the truth." Harry grits through his teeth.

"So what? So I can feel bad for you about stealing my boyfriend?!" You respond, the condescension in your tone dripping over the words you speak.

"You stole him first!" He growls very loudly. You are taken aback by the sudden aggressiveness.

"What?" The questions almost comes out like a whisper. You are utterly lost. What is this guy talking about? Harry huffs, looking away from you. He is clearly embarrassed.

"Nothing."

"No, tell me." You demand, wrapping the bandage around Harry's palm. "You owe me, at the very least."

Harry sighs, shaking his head. His eyes flick between yours and the his wounded hand. He exhales deeply before finally beginning with talking.

"We were... sleeping together, Dylan and I. It was casual; he said he didn't want a relationship, that he wasn't ready. Then about three weeks after saying that, he started dating you."

You don't open your mouth, instead focusing on processing the information that Harry is throwing your way, which is proving to be a bit difficult. You shake your head.

"That's shitty of him." You simply say, deciding to not want to offer him any pity. It is indeed a fucked up thing to string someone along and then date someone else, but it doesn't excuse what Harry did.

You focus on finishing up with the bandage on Harry's arm, and smile at your work. You could definitely be a nurse if you wanted to.

"Okay. Let's go back to that devil of a couch." You say, and the air feels a bit lighter now. It isn't so heavy with unresolved tension as it was before. There still is loads, but it is easier to breathe than before.

"Alright." Harry agrees, walking behind you to the living room.

************************************************

One and a half hour later

"I'm never doing favors for anyone ever again." You say, staring wide-eyed at the couch you and Harry finally managed to put together. It took you long enough—thanks to Harry—but you're finally done.

"Gotta agree with you on that one." Harry nods, hands on his hips as he analyzes the couch.

"Of course you do. I'm always right." You shrug, and Harry rolls his eyes.

The past hour and a half have been strangely good for you and Harry. You still hate him, and you are pretty sure he feels the same way about you, but there is kind of a non-negotiated truce now. That doesn't keep you from seizing every opportunity to insult him. You haven't lost your edge.

You flop down on the couch, and Harry follows suit. You sit in silence, staring at the white wall in front of you. That's when you see something on the sofa table, and you can quite literally feel the blood drain from your face.

In the table lay a ziplock bag of screws. Ones that you were supposed to put somewhere in this couch, but you didn't. All freaked out, you start looking for the instructions again.

"Where's the manual?" You question, aimlessly scanning the room. When your glance goes past Harry, you see the little white book in his hand. You lean forward to grab it, but he moves it away from you very quickly.

"Come on. It wasn’t funny the first time, it’s not funny now.” You tilt your head and reach out your hand, hoping that your motherly tone will make him put the piece of paper back in your hand. But he doesn’t, only shrugging at your tiny lecture. Your lips break into a slight smirk, and you heave a sigh.

“Fine. You want to play foul, then foul it is.”

Then, in a matter of seconds, you’ve thrown yourself over Harry, grasping the manual. You have managed to get a hold of it, clearly having caught him off guard. But that doesn’t hold for long, as he’s regained his senses quickly and puts an arm around your waist, lifting you up and throwing you off the couch. You land on the rug with a small thud, and although it doesn’t hurt much, there is fire in your eyes when they meet Harry’s cocky face. He’s holding up the manual behind him as he laughs at you lying on the ground.

Without thinking for another second, you charge at him, jumping on him and snatching the manual out of his hands. You lean back to get away, but almost fall backwards. That is until an arm around your waist catches you. You are pulled into Harry and his action to save you leaves the both of you very close to one another. You are still breathing heavily from your ‘attack’, but then you feel something else.

The beating of your heart at the proximity between you and Harry; it stresses you out to be this close to him. Suddenly, it becomes apparent, too apparent; Harry’s fingers are dug into your waistline.

You blame the way your body reacts to the fact that you haven’t gotten laid in a month, yet you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from Harry. He shares your troubles, his gaze fixated on you like you could fade away at any second.

Your eyes widen ever so slightly when Harry leans forward. A couple inches, but forward nonetheless. No matter how radical and ridiculous your mind finds this action, your body doesn’t do a thing to stop it. There is a spark that radiates off Harry and enters your veins through the touch of his fingers, the heat of his breath, and the feel of his stare.

His eyes dart from yours to your mouth, asking without asking, as he inches closer with every few seconds. You feel those sparks morphing into a flame as Harry’s lips brush yours ever so slightly, and your heavy eyes flutter shut.

“I’m back!”

You jump off Harry’s lap in an impressive short amount of time, just in time for the door to shut and Benjamin to walk through the door. His eyes travel to the counter, where a partly bloodied paper towel still lies. A gasp leaves his lips.

“YOU STABBED HIM?!”

His eyes fly to you and Harry, and he sighs deeply at the sight of the both of you unharmed, well… mostly.

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d stab him.”

“Why did you think she was the one who stabbed me?”

You and Harry responded at the same time. You flick Harry a look before explaining the situation to your friend.

“I accidentally gave him a paper cut.” You point to Harry’s bandaged hand, which he is holding up. “But thanks for thinking I’m vicious enough to stab someone, I guess.”

“Yeah, and thanks a lot for thinking I’m not.” Harry adds with a frown, his arms crossed. Benjamin stifles out a laugh.

“Well, thanks for the couch. I owe you guys.” He smiles, pulling you into a hug. “D’ya wanna go for a drink together?”

“No!” You call out as soon as Benjamin finishes his question, earning a pair of confused looks from the two boys. “I— uh, I have to go. Assignment. I have to do an assignment.”

You stumble over your words and steps as you grab your jacket and headphones, heading for the front door.

“Okay… will I see tonight?!” Benjamin shouts the question which reminds you of Tyler’s birthday party tonight. Tyler is a friend you got to know through Benjamin. Almost hooked up with him once.

“I’ll let you know!” Is all you say before walking out the door, shutting the door behind you. You rush to the elevator, not wanting the boys to catch up with you. You put on your headphones, taking a deep breath before putting play on the music.

You need some time to think about what the fuck happened back there.

#harry styles #fanfic #writing #blurb #fanfiction #harry #one direction #mini series #harry styles x fem!reader #enemies to lovers #bantering #purplecoffee13

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