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making the bed â s. reid x reader
in which your night crumbles around you, and spencer is happy to pick up the pieces.Â
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. (prior) alcohol consumption. reader is semi-drunk (but sobers up). post drinking depression. healthy alcohol information/discussion 𫡠word count: 2.1k a/n: do not read too much into this for you will begin to question why i still enjoy going clubbing. (joke...) đ plsss tell me if u liked this or even if u didnt thank u i love uuuuuu
Alcohol is a depressant.Â
You remembered the God awful lecture your boyfriend had given you when you woke up one Sunday morning with this feeling of existential dread, and nothing to pin it to. A ramble about how alcohol can temporarily increase the body's production of dopamine and serotonin when entering, causing a worse crash of both chemicals when it leaves. Leaving you, evidently, depressed and anxious after a big night.Â
You knew that.Â
You also knew how quick you were to seclude within your mind when you were with people. Too many drinks and not enough social interaction tended to lead to your own isolation, sitting on the outer edge of the booth, absentmindedly playing with the charm on the end of your phone.Â
The room no longer spun the way it had an hour ago. You missed when it spun. When it spun, you weren't thinking about how little you had to contribute to the conversations your friends were having. You weren't tallying up how many drinks you had already drank, then falling flat when you realised you couldn't remember, and that was a thought more horrifying than knowing it was over ten. You were fun, when the room was a carousel.Â
Now, it's simply overwhelming. Loud chattering from both your table, and the surrounding ones. Clinking of glasses at the bar. A sports game on the television across the room. Balls on a pool table being dispersed for the first time in a game. Dancing feet. Music. People. So many fucking people.
Your phone buzzes against the table, and you pick it up before any of your friends could turn their heads to see where the vibrations were coming from. You figured they were too drunk to conclude it was you, anyways. Or to care.Â
Spencer had texted you fifteen minutes ago to check in on you, and though it wasn't long ago, you not responding immediately in a flurry of half strung together sentences and emojis was worrying for him. That was probably why his name was now lighting up your screen, a funny photo of him mid-bite of an ice cream as his contact photo, enlarged.Â
You hadn't responded for no reason other than the fact that you had no will to. Which should've been a big enough red flag to yourself that you should text him, and you should ask if he can pick you up. Thankfully, he loved to prove how well he could read you, and he was calling you anyways.Â
"Hi," you mumble into the phone, angling your body away from your friends, hand held up to your other ear to block out some of the noise the best you could.Â
"Hi," he parrots back to you. "You okay?"
An automatic yes manifests on your tongue, but you're quick enough to keep it to yourself before you can lie to him. Instead, you let out a quiet, "No."
He seems to have expected that answer, for he leaves no silence in between your admission and his response. "What can I do to help?" He also seems to be expecting your hesitance at asking him for anything that would require him to move, because he adds, "I can pick you up. Do you want me to pick you up?"
"Yes. Please?"
"I'm already leaving," he tells you, and you can hear his shoes against the wooden floor of his apartment to confirm that. "Did something happen? Are you safe?"
"No, nothing happened. I'm safe," you reassure him. "I started feeling sick so I stopped drinking an hour ago. Now I'm just sad."
"You remember what I told you about it being a depressant?"
"Vividly," you mutter, and while it isn't meant to be funny, you hear him huff a short laugh anyways. It makes you feel a little better.Â
"It's important to know," he defends. "I'm sorry I shared important information with you."
"Mm."
Your lack of a verbal response was expected, but he still hated the sound of it regardless. You heard him sigh. "I have to hang up now. I'll be there in forty minutes. Will you be okay?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. I love you."
"Love you too."
No matter how much time had passed, your head lifted every time the door â that your group was so conveniently close to â opened, letting in a rush of cool air and sobering you up with every hit of it.Â
True to his word, Spencer was entering the bar after forty minutes, face scrunching up at the sudden onslaught of noises and visual stimuli. Same boat as you, only he had not a drop of alcohol in his body. At least you weren't crazy about it being overstimulating.Â
"This is why I don't go to bars," he says once he's approached your booth, and you had stood up next to you, his hand finding an automatic place on your waist.Â
"It's usually not this bad," you tell him, but he decides not to ask you anything else upon hearing just how exhausted your voice sounds. You're grateful for that.
The goodbye to your friends is quick, Spencer rattling off a lie about him needing you home for he had work early the next morning, and you only had one key to the apartment. Even the friends who knew that wasn't the case didn't comment on it, and you made a pointless mental note to thank them for it later. You knew you wouldn't.Â
The drive home was even faster. Silence, aside from the rush of the wind from your slightly cracked window as Spencer drove, that helped the sick feeling in your stomach from the alcohol you had consumed.Â
It didn't seem to help the hollowness of your chest, though.
You weren't sure if anything would, really. A chemical imbalance in your brain â even one as temporary as the deflation from being drunk â was hard to fix without medication. It would go away, yes. But then you would make the mistake of drinking once more, and you would find yourself back in this brain peeling predicament.Â
You showered alone. Despite Spencer's offer to join you, and your own personal desire for him to be there with you. It didn't help your fogged mind at all, and you were exiting the bathroom feeling like you had retreated further into your bones. Every movement felt clunky, your skin a heavy coat to your skeleton, restricting your movement down to short shuffles and barely lifted arm movements.Â
He was reading when you reentered your bedroom, and you've never seen him put a book and his glasses back on his bedside table faster. He looked visibly tired. Keeping himself awake a seemingly difficult struggle, that you could feel your body heading towards to as well.Â
"Hey," he says as you climb into the bed, and he's very patient as you figure out what position you want your bodies in. Head on his chest, but next to him, you had decided on, and his fingers entangled into your hair.
"Hi," you mumble, staring up at the ceiling, counting brush strokes of the paint, as if it were possible to.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
You huff at the phrase, tilting your head upwards so your eyes could land on him. "Do you have a penny?"
He pauses, then angles his head closer towards yours. "Okay, kiss for your thoughts?"
"That'll just distract me."
"Is that what you want?"
You should say no. Arguably the last thing you should be doing when you're sad is let intimacy with your boyfriend distract you. But then again, you're not the best advocate for healthy coping mechanisms anyways.Â
"Maybe."
"Maybe?" he muses, and his lips brush against yours. Your heart flutters.Â
"I don't really know what I want," you settle on telling him, honestly. "I want my brain to shut up."
His body deflates beneath you, and you feel guilt chip away up your spine at the killing of the less depressing atmosphere.Â
"Sorry," you mumble.
"No. It's good. Be honest with me," he reassures you, quietly. His fingers tap at your scalp, "What's going on up here?"
"I'll cry if I try to verbalise it."
"Crying's good for you, you know," he hums.
"I'm pretty sure I still have eyeliner in my waterline. I'll just stain your sheets," you retort.Â
"Yeah, probably. That's fine."
You're silent for a few moments, gathering your thoughts in your brain the best you could despite yourself, before you sit up, his hand dropping to the bed beside you.
"I just don't like being... here? Out? I don't know. I'm just really sick of being sad every time I drink. Is there something wrong with me? Did you get sad whenever you drank? Everyone else I know loves going out for drinks because they have fun and they're giggly drunks, or they're clingy drunks. And if I drink too much then I'm a fucking sad drunk, and I'm the only person I know that gets that way. I want to be normal."
He's silent your entire rant, and then some, waiting for your heaving chest to slow, having caught the few tears that slipped down your cheeks. You were grateful â you needed that time.
He reaches a hand out, and you let him tug you back down to the bed, slotting your body atop his own, just so he could see you properly.Â
"To answer your question, no, I didn't get sad when I drank," he says, brushing your hair out of your face, before his hands rest on either side of your face. "But I wasn't really happy, either. I just talked more."
"You already talk a lot."
His lips twitch. "I do. Double whatever you think my worst is, and that was me drunk. Focus on the part where I said I wasn't a happy drunk, please."
"But you weren't sad. So there is something wrong with me."
"No, there's not. Alcohol is a depressant," he punctuates his words with a kiss to your nose, which you gratefully accept despite your emotions. "Are you willing to give up alcohol as a whole?"Â
"My friends will think I'm boring, then."
He hesitates in his response, but ultimately settles on asking, "Do you think I'm boring because I don't drink?"
"No. Obviously not. And you have a real reason for not drinking, soâ"
"âand being sad isn't a real reason to not drink?"
Taken aback by his sudden sternness, you go quiet, breath hitching within your throat. He was right, ultimately. No reason is reason enough. You knew that.Â
Sensing your discomfort at his tone, he expels a breath of air and lowers his hands down to your hips. His voice drops to something a little less harsh, as he murmurs, "You are allowed to not want to drink alcohol if you don't like the way it makes you feel. If your friends think you're boring for that, then they're not worth it."
You silently nod your head, beginning to curse your emotional regulators. For while you had kept your tears at bay for the vast majority of this conversation, it seemed all it took was the gentle rubbing of circles onto your hip bones, and a fact checked piece of life advice from your boyfriend to make you cry.Â
"Sorry," you sniffle, dropping your head to the crook of his neck to hide your newly tear stricken face.Â
"Crying's good for you," he repeats his earlier words, and feels you nod your head. "You don't have to decide tonight. I'd encourage you not to, actually. You're technically still intoxicated."
"I'm sober," you protest, weakly.Â
"Okay, honey." He's only agreeing with you to wane any further argument. "I don't think your friends will think you're boring, though, if that's any help."
"I don't think they will either."
He nods his head, and you're relaxing against him a little more.Â
"Are you just trying to not be the only loser who doesn't drink?" you mumble, voice muffled by his skin.
"You've caught me."
He relishes in the laugh that leaves your lips, and he places the gentlest of kisses on the side of your head, which prompts you to lift it to look at him again.Â
"You're not a loser for not drinking," you say, and his lips pull into a smile.Â
He leans his head up, brushing his lips against yours, despite the mix of mint toothpaste and alcohol on your tongue. "I know. You wouldn't be either."
"I know."
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated âĄ
#liaâs fics âĄ#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer x reader#spencer x self insert#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#spencer reid hurt/comfort#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader hurt/comfort#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid x reader angst#spencer reid comfort#spencer reid x reader comfort#spencer reid x you
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Crash Course in Love ⢠3
pairing: snowboard instructor!Jungkook x ex-gf!reader (feat. platonic OT6) genre: rom-com, Exes 2 Lovers, slow-burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: strong language, slow burn, angst, tension, bad communication skills, heartbreak, hangover, doubts, emotional rollercoaster, fight against nature, being stranded, crying, verbal fighting and screaming, explicit sexual content, bit of dry humping, fingering, scissoring, unprotected sex, breast play, hickeys, scratch marks, love bites, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 15.3k
a/n: i'm absolutely knackered now, completely worn out. BUT it was sooooo worth it lol hope y'all enjoy it to the fullest bc next update probably won't be until the new year...sooooo...have funnnn!
a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! đ
01 ⢠02 ⢠masterlist ⢠04
Day 4
âFuck.â
You think youâve woken up in hellâit must beâbecause, oh god, you feel like death. Your eyes are crusted shut, and you canât feel your legs. But as you rub the sleep out of your eyes and prop yourself up on your elbows, you realise itâs just Namjoon lying across them, snoring away.
You try to take in the room, piecing together the hazy puzzle of last night. The party, the song, you running off only to drown yourself with Yoongi and Namjoon in alcohol, throwing your own little after-party. You remember crying, remember singing your heart out to sad love songs blaring through Dionysus. What a fucking mess youâve becomeâŚ
But after all that chaos, thereâs only blackness. And seeing Yoongi and Namjoon still here with you in the suite, all of you fully dressed and reeking of alcohol, tells you enough. And as you groan, not just from the bottomless pit of stupidity, but from the pounding in your head, you let yourself collapse back onto your pillow.
You fight back another wave of tears, wishing the last 24 hours could just be erased, wishing you were back at home. You fumble blindly for your phone, finding it on the nightstand nearby.
2:56 p.m.
Just brilliant. Though, at least youâre spared from spending the whole day on the slopes. Not that youâd be able to walk straight with how youâre feeling, but a winâs a win.
You need to get up, though, so you start stirring both men awake. Yoongiâs not blocking you, but if youâre up, he has to be as well. Much to your surprise, both of them wake without protest, getting themselves into a sitting position on the bed, looking like zombies straight out of The Walking Dead. You reckon you look about the same.
âSorry,â Namjoon mumbles as you begin massaging some blood back into your legs, which feel like theyâre fighting for dear life.
âSâalright,â you croak out, unable to manage much more.
âPainkillers.â Yoongi just sits there, staring at his blanket, the rise and fall of his chest the only proof heâs still alive, though barely.
You and Namjoon both nod, but no one actually moves until, eventually, Namjoon risesâslowly, hands leaving the mattress only at the last second before he somehow straightens up and makes his way to the door, though itâs anything but a straight line.
Youâre the second to get up, staggering into the bathroom to wash off everything clinging to you. Youâre not sure if itâs just dried sweat or a bit of alcohol still on your skin, though you have a vague memory of Tae pouring something over your back. Either way, youâre in desperate need of a full shower to feel human again.
The only upside to this hangover is that your mind has finally shut up. Every bit of energy is focused on basic bodily functions, like breathing without throwing up and blinking your bloodshot eyes now and then. Youâre not even fazed when Yoongi stumbles in, taking a piss that seems to go on forever; he clearly couldnât give a fuck, and neither can you.
When youâve finished rinsing your hair and are wrapped in a towel thatâs too soft to absorb any actual moisture, you quietly switch places with Yoongi, both of you unintentionally making a point not to make eye contact.
Youâre not entirely sure why youâre still hereânot just in this town but on this entire trip. Thereâs no real drive left in you to give Jungkook closure, no fight in you at all, and definitely no desire to ever see him again.
So, you decide to get the hell out of here. Not right this second, no, your blood alcohol is likely still sky-high and will take a nosedive soon, taking you down with it, but tomorrow, youâre leaving. Itâs the healthiest thing you could do, because frankly, you lost Jungkook years ago, and that realisation sobers you up more than anything else could.Â
It doesnât stir the same emotions it once did as you pull Jungkookâs old hoodie out of your luggageâor maybe youâre just too tired to careâas you tug the oversized black fabric over your head, the only comfortable thing youâd brought on this trip. Some leggings on, with your phone stuffed into the front pocket of the hoodie, you make your way to the main area, letting your eyes roam to maybe spot your missing phone case.
Jungkookâs already lounging in a single armchair, poking absently at the fire with an iron stick, his gaze tracking you as you move around the room. But you ignore him. Itâs not like youâre being petty this time, and he can probably tell from your posture that youâre just not in the mood to interact at all.
Youâre especially glad he doesnât mention yourâor rather, hisâhoodie, and when you give up the search, realising the case isnât lying around here either, you shuffle over to the sofa, collapsing onto it and immediately pulling out your phone. Scrolling through YouTube, you pull the hoodieâs hood down a bit further to block out Jungkook entirely, settling on a spa video promising a very satisfying blackhead extraction.
If your lifeâs this miserable, youâre at least going to give yourself this kind of satisfaction, even if itâs short-lived. And anyway, there are millions of similar videos waiting for you and your lonely ass.Â
Namjoon emerges midway through your video, nudging your legs to make space for him. You shift, but only to let your legs settle in his lap as soon as he sits down.
âHere,â he offers, handing you two painkillers, which you take like theyâre sweets, chewing them up so they might kick in faster. He pulls a disgusted face, but it quickly fadesâprobably canât be bothered to waste any energy as well.Â
âJimin brought food,â Jungkook breaks the silence, still poking at the fire. âShould I get you some?â
Youâre not sure if heâs talking to you or Namjoon, but you answer anyway. âIâm good, thanks.â
Maybe he expected a different answer, as his stick pauses for a moment, but you couldnât care less. The chance to talk things out has passed, along with your will. Itâs on him now. Youâve seen and heard enough.
âWhy did you leave the party so early?â he tries again.
âIt was because of me, I justââ
You cut Namjoon off; he really doesnât need to do this for you. âStop lying, I wanted to leave, and Namjoon and Yoongi didnât want me to be alone.â
âWhy?â
You pause your video, turning to meet Jungkookâs eyes. Heâs bouncing his leg and chewing on his lip ring again, but itâs not your problem if heâs anxious or whatever. âNone of your business.â
Namjoon gives your knee a slight squeeze, and while Jungkook turns his attention back to the flames like youâre the one whoâs hurt him, he can go fuck himself. Youâre not dealing with him right now. Not when heâs got Hara pregnant and sings love songs for her.Â
Yoongi enters at that moment, settling into the armchair beside Jungkook and just managing to catch the two painkillers Namjoon tosses his way.
Silence returns, and you restart your video, losing yourself in the meditative extractions.
âCan I get a haaaawyeah?!â Tae bursts into the hostel, bringing Hope and Hara with him. Three of the four present groan in agony at the sudden noise, and youâre one of them. Still, you shift to sit up, making room for them to join.
Youâre not sure why Hara chooses to sit next to you, quietly handing over a takeaway box of food with that warm, familiar smile of hersâyou know itâs got to be from Jinâs.Â
âIâm not hungry,â you mumble, the bite you had a few minutes ago already feeling like it never had been there to begin with.
âPlease, eat something. Your body needs it.â
Sheâs right, but you canât bring yourself to even lift the lid, staring blankly at it as if itâll somehow reveal yet another surprise youâre not ready for. You know itâs not Haraâs fault youâre feeling like this, or that Jungkook chose her, but right now, all you can feel is bitterness, and her kindness only multiplies it.
Almost unconsciously, you glance up and find Jungkookâs eyes fixed on you, his leg still bouncing lightly, clearly tuned out from the lively conversation between the other guys.
Youâve kept this empty space in your heart reserved for him for so long, never realising heâd never fill it again. You just donât have the energy for this anymore, the will to keep playing his game where he pulls you back into his world only to remind you youâre no longer really part of it. Not properly.
You wonder if Jungkook even realises what heâs doing, if he has any clue about how his actions come across. Or maybe heâs just as stuck as you, caught up in his patterns and too blind to see beyond them. The care and worry in his eyes when he looks at you, when he notices you making poor choices for your healthâmaybe, you reason, itâs just because he doesnât know how to be any other way and nothing more.Â
But thatâs the thing about Jungkook: he genuinely cares. And thatâs why heâs going to be the best dad on this earthâjust not to your children.
âIâm really not hungry.â You think you see Jungkookâs jaw tick just a bit, but he again chooses to say nothing, his gaze, though, never wavering from you.
âI didnât mean to, but damn, that woman was something else,â Tae bursts, sprawled on the floor in front of you, accidentally nudging your knee as he laughs with the others.
âWho?â you ask, trying to tune into the conversation just to get away from the other.Â
âThat woman who was sitting by the bar all night. Tae pulled her,â Hope bursts out laughing, especially at your disgusted, shocked face.
âWas she any good?â Namjoon inquires, like itâs the most normal thing to ask about a one-night stand.
âWhat can I say? She taught me things I didnât even know existed.â
Yep, that infoâs enough to make you gag for real, and judging by Yoongi and Jungkookâs expressions, theyâre feeling the same.
âWant some?â you offer Yoongi the box, hoping to steer the conversation away fromâŚwhatever this is. But he just shakes his head, clearly not ready to risk upsetting his stomach as well.Â
Heâs pale as it is, and you can see the colour drain from his already bloodshot eyes at the sight of food. Poor man.Â
âJungkook, you hungry?â Hara offers softly, and you canât help but glance at him again.Â
His bouncing leg stills the instant she speaks to him. And even though itâs trueâJungkook can eat like a bottomless pit, never saying no to foodâyou donât really want to interact with him right now. But, some things havenât changed at all it seems, like you not being able to say no when it comes to him.Â
Jungkook looks at you with those big, hopeful eyes, as if to say just eat it yourselfâheâd never, like all those years ago, take food from you when itâs clear youâre barely eating yourself. But you just canât, and with that, you get up, lean over the small coffee table separating you both, and offer him the box with both hands, a small, shaky smile on your face.
Jungkook stands up too, reaching for the food between you. You think heâll just take it, but his hands cover yours, brushing over them until they settle on the container, and then, finally, he takes it. It catches you off guard, not just because he touched you first and not the box, but because it was absolutely deliberate.
Why he did it, you donât know, but all you can think about is getting away fast before all your bottled-up emotions explode in your face.
âCanâŚuhâŚcan someone drive me to the nearest petrol station?â you ask, standing there rooted to the spot, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment as everyone looks up at you.
Jungkookâs half a mind to put the box back on the table and get up again, but Hope springs up from his spot beside Taehyung, fishing his keys from his pocket. âIâve got you.â
âThanks, Iâll just get ready.â You cast him a quick, grateful look and head to your room, eyes down.
Hope just saved you there, because if Jungkook had offered to drive, you donât know what youâd have done. Sure, you want him to be happyâyouâre not some heartless person who wishes bad things on people, especially those who areâŚwereâŚclose to you.
 But what about your happiness? Donât you deserve to find peace too? To protect yourself? So yes, youâll take every bit of help you can get, even if itâs just a lift to the petrol station.
You didnât mean to startle so violently when you turned to close the suite door, but honestly, you hadnât even heard Hara following you, moving soundlessly like a ghost.
âCâŚcan I help you?â Youâre gripping the door until your knuckles turn white under your sweater paws, the door not even fully open anymore.
âCan I come in?â
Itâs like something out of a nightmare, knowing you canât turn her away just because Haraâs never done anything to hurt you. You have to remind yourself again and again that sheâs not the villain here, chanting it silently in your head, trying to drown out the hurt that wonât go away whenever you look at her.
So, you nod, opening the door a bit wider, then turn around to let her in and busy yourself with âlookingâ for your phone case, just so you donât have to face her.
âAre you okay?â
Her words break through the sound of the bedding as you give it a shake, hoping your case might fall out, but of course it doesnât. Just like the right answer isnât coming to you now, not to her question.
Maybe youâre okay, as okay as you can be. Maybe youâre not. Either way, youâre definitely not making her your therapistânot when sheâs involved in all this stupid mess.Â
âYeah, sure. Are you?â
âYeah, the sickness finally went away. I just hope I start to show soonâitâs getting weird at this point.â
You move around the room, checking every corner, stopping only when you spot an edge of your phone case outside on the porch, half-buried in the snow beside the jacuzzi.
âHow far along are you?â
âSeventeenth weekâŚweâll find out the gender soon.â Thereâs a subtle cheer in her voice that makes your heart soften for a moment.
It must be incredible to be expecting, especially to finally know the babyâs gender and go a bit mad with shopping. Youâre sure youâd be the same, and Hara likely will be, too.
You glance her way, offering a small, warm smile before opening the door to the porch. âGot a feeling what itâll be?â
Hara comes closer to the door as you step outside, staying in the warmth while leaning against the frame. âYes? No? Maybe?â She laughs. âSome days I swear itâs a boy, and then others Iâm convinced itâs a girl. Tomorrowâs the appointment, soâŚI hope mini-me reveals its gender and isnât shy.â
You giggle, fishing the icy case out of the snow and brushing off the clinging flakes. As you come back inside, Hara moves aside, settling herself on the edge of the bed while you grab a discarded shirt of Yoongiâs to dry the case off.
âHeyâŚuhâŚI donât quite know how to start this, butâŚI know youâre not doing alright.â
The glance you throw her way is wary rather than hostile, but still, you donât want a pep talk from her.
âPlease, just talk to each other.â
Biting your lip, you really donât want to say anything. Yes, you probably should talk to Jungkook, but then again, maybe you shouldnât. Heâs had countless chances to say something, to open up if he had any thoughts at allâand heâs used none of them. Not even when you broke up with him. He stayed silent, like he is now.
Maybe he just doesnât want to talk, not really, and youâre done waiting and being the one to start things.
âThereâs nothing left to talk about. But I appreciate your concern.â
Hara just nods, staring down at the floor, rubbing her hands together between her knees while you pull on your coat and tuck your phone safely into its case.
âItâs a nice case. Did you paint it yourself?â
You glance at your phone, rubbing your thumb over the faded paint that was once so bright. You couldnât bring yourself to get rid of it after the breakup, even though it reminds you of everything good about your time with Jungkook. Maybe thereâs some masochistic streak in you that wants to punish yourself for everything you did and didnât do. Maybe itâs time to let go of all the memories that keep pulling you back to a time thatâs long gone.
âNo.â You sigh, tucking it away in your coat pocket with your purse and heading to the door. You pause with your hand on the handle, checking to see if Haraâs following, which she is. Sheâs right behind you again, and this time, you just let out a startled scream internally, hoping you donât flinch too visibly.
Opening the door, you let her pass first, just to keep her in your sight this time, but as soon as youâre near the entrance to the main area, she stops, raising a hand. You give her a puzzled look, but she only points to one of her ears, so you lean in, trying to make out whatâs being said.
First, you catch the voices of Taehyung and Namjoon, Taehyungâs voice too loud and distinct not to notice. But when you listen a bit harder, you pick up Hope and Jungkook having a different conversation, probably a little further from the others.
âI know! I know youâre a good driver. JustâŚâ
âJust? Câmon, whatâs going on with you, C?â
âJust⌠take care of her, okay?â
âWhy wouldnât I? Youâre acting like Iâm some boy whoâs just got his licence and canât be trustedââ
The rustling of your coat drowns out the rest of their conversation as you step into the room, deciding not to eavesdrop any longer. You glance around briefly, and of course, Jungkookâs eyes find yours again, but you quickly turn towards Yoongi, resting your hands on his shoulders from behind where heâs still slouched on the one-seater. He wraps his hand around your wrist, his thumb gently brushing over your pulse.
âWhy was my case out in the snow?â you murmur into his ear, which earns a lazy laugh from him. He peeks over his shoulder at you, his voice still raspy from his hangover as he murmurs back.
âYou thought you could yeet it away and be done with it.â
Your cheeks go warm again; drunk-you is really ridiculous in every possible way. Youâre just grateful it was only Namjoon and Yoongi who saw your breakdown, and no one else.
âRight.â
âStay safe, yeah?â
He gives your wrist a gentle squeeze, and when your eyes meet again, even though his are still glassy from last nightâs antics, thereâs that quiet care in them only real family can have.Â
âI will. Thanks for being there for me, Yoongs.â You press a quick kiss to his head and give him a brief squeeze around his shoulders, only for him to dramatically fake his own demise.
Straightening up, you meet Hopeâs eyes, give him a quick nod, and head towards the door. Jungkook moves with the two of you, holding the door open without taking his eyes off you. His gaze is so intense that you canât keep eye contact, mumbling a quiet, hurried âthanksâ and âbyeâ as you follow Hope to his car.
You wouldnât have thought Hope would drive a brand-new car, especially a vibrant red one. You wonder if an equipment rental shop really makes that much of a profit or if everyone in this town is just batshit rich. At least youâll be safeâmuch safer than youâd be with Tony.
âSo, how longâs the drive?â you ask, taking in the carâs interior while buckling up in the passenger seat. You notice the soft leather under your bum and the chrome trim around the touchscreen on the console.
âMaybe twenty or thirty minutes, depends on whether the roads are clear or still covered in snow.â
You hum in acknowledgment, tucking your hands under your thighsânot only because theyâre still cold from the short walk outside, but also to avoid the urge to touch anything and risk breaking something youâd never be able to replace.
The carâs rolling down the steep hill you came from a few days ago in no time, and Hopeâs both hands are steady on the wheel, which helps you relax in your seat. Heâs definitely a good driver, like Yoongi, Jungkook, or your dadâthe kind you can actually relax around without fearing for your life.
âSoâŚwould you be a kind soul and tell me what youâre all talking about in that group chat, especially about me?â
Of course you had to askâwhy wouldnât you, now that youâre alone with someone whoâs clearly in on the whole scheme?
âSure, why wouldnât I?â
âDunnoâŚmaybe because of Namjoon.â
âOh, Iâm not scared of him.â Hope laughs heartily, but his eyes donât stray from the dark, snow-covered road ahead.
âSoooâŚ?â
âSo, you should just talk to C. Thatâs what weâre all talking about.â
âWow, wouldnât have thought of that.â
âSo whyâre you asking if thatâs not the answer you wanted?â
You fall silent.
âListen. You and C are both hurting. And the only way forward is for you both to learn how to communicate properly, aka talk to each other.â
âThereâs really nothing left to talk about.â
âWhyâs that?â
âHeâs clearly moved on, no?â
Like, duh.
âHas he now?â
Duh?âŚ
âYeah, with HaraâŚand the baby on its way.â
Were you wrong all this time? It canât be.
âOh, boyâŚâ
âDonât âoh boyâ me.â
âWhy do you think heâs with Hara?â
Youâre trying not to show how hard it is to think clearly in your state, but the time it takes you to respond says it all. âItâs obvious.â
âIs it? Because it sounds like youâre seeing things how you want to, not how they actually are.â
âRude.â
âItâs true.â
âYouâre really forward for someone I barely know.â
âWeâre not strangers, __.â Hope side-eyes you pointedly, making you scoot a tiny bit deeper into your seat.
âBasically, we are.â
âNo, weâre not friends yet, but weâre not strangers either.â
So what does this mean for you and Jungkook? Heâs not exactly a friend anymore, but heâs not a stranger either. OrâŚmaybe he is. God, your brain feels like itâs about to explode any minute now.
âPeople change, Hope. Jungkookâs changed.â
Hope lets a short silence settle between you, his fingers tapping softly against the leather wheel as if heâs thinking about what to say next. Only now do you realise thereâs no sound from the engine, and you clock that heâs driving an electric carâeven though he lives in the mountains, in the cold.
âHave you?â
Youâre half-tempted to just say yes, but is that really true? Youâre not sure. Maybe youâve matured a bit, but not enough to feel like a different person. What you do know for sure is that any growth you might have had stopped the moment you left Jungkook. Youâve been so caught up in trying to heal and be someone youâre not that you havenât really evolved into the person you could have been.
Anything reallyâmaybe a better person, but somehow still the same you. So, what have you become in the last few years? Are you the same? Or not quite?
âNot sure.â
Hope just nods, not as if heâs simply acknowledging what you said, but as if he already knew your answer. Itâs uncanny how much talking to him reminds you of Yoongi, both of them having that same no-bullshit approach.
âListen, Iâm not here to play mediator,â yep, definitely like Yoongi, ânor are the others. You need to talk to him, get things sorted before itâs too late.â
âWhat if itâs already too late?â
âI donât think so.â
âYouâre so positive.â You whine pathetically.Â
âAnd youâre a chronic pessimist.â He mimics you.Â
âIâm just cautious.â You pull your hands from under your thighs and throw them in the air, more to get your point across than anything.
âNo, youâre scared of what might never happen.â
Ouch. But heâs notâŚnot right.
âIâm not. Iâm doing snowboarding now, arenât I?â
âSo why are we heading to the nearest petrol station if youâre meant to be snowboarding all week?â
You shut your mouth and slide your hands back under your thighs, as if that might help you disappear. Maybe you werenât as subtle as you thought, and not only Hope but everyone elseâincluding Jungkookâhas seen right through you. Is that why Hara wanted to talk to you earlier? Urging you to finally talk to Jungkook?
âGotcha,â Hope giggles slightly, though when he sees your sad pout, he reaches over to give your knee a quick squeeze before returning his hand to the wheel.
âAlright, Iâm sorry if I hurt your feelings.â Okay, maybe not exactly like Yoongi. âBut from what Iâve seen and heard, you liked snowboarding. And Iâd say you probably enjoyed everything else youâve done before, too.â He glances over at you. âCorrect me if Iâm wrong.â
You just give a noncommittal shrug.
âYou need to trust yourself and your capabilities a bit more. Start having faith in the positive outcomes, not just the negative ones, yeah? Youâll never be able to live without fear if you overthink everythingâŚespecially things with Jungkook.â
Your pout deepens, a light sheen of tears coating your lashes, which you tell yourself are just from the hangover crashing down on you now, not from facing the uncomfortable truth of your very persona.Â
âI know itâs hard, ___. But sometimes thinking the worst makes it real, even though the outcome couldâve been different if youâd just had a bit more faith.â
âAre you talking about snowboarding or Jungkook?â
âBoth.â He giggles again, and you canât help but join in, sniffing your nose a little.
When just then another small town and the petrol station come into view, you straighten up in your seat, realising youâd been slouching more and more throughout the drive.
Even though youâre not looking forward to stepping outside into the cold, youâre glad for a bit of a cooldown, just to ease your exhaustion.
Hope parks his car right next to the petrol pump, and as soon as he turns it off, you both get out and head to the boot where two big empty canisters are waiting.
âHere, Iâll go to the one right behind this one.â He offers you one of the canisters, and while you take it, youâre still confused.
âI only need one, though.â
Heâs already unscrewed his, pumping petrol as he leans to the side to look at you.
âYeah, this oneâs for me.â
Youâre still confused, but you start filling your canister anyway.
âIsnât your car electric?â
âYeah, but I need emergency petrol for the generator in case thereâs an outage and the babyâs coming.â
You freeze. Is HopeâŚ? Oh god, you were so wrong all this time. Relief floods through you, so intense that tears spring to your eyes. Jungkookâs not the baby daddy.
âYouâre Haraâs baby daddy?â you squeak.
âGosh, no!â
And now you think you might throw up, the tears shifting back to the heartbreak of yesterday.
âAreum, my wife, sheâs seven months pregnant. You missed her yesterday with your epic escape.â
âOh. Uh, congratulations.â
But you only hear a snort from behind the pump.
Not wanting to fill the canister completely, you settle on half, afraid you might not have enough left in your bank account. Youâre not exactly broke, but youâre worried your employer hasnât transferred your pay on time. Again.
âIâm off to pay,â you mumble as you pass Hope and head into the small, warm station, where a young teenager plagued with acne stands behind the counter, his eyes barely lifting from his phone throughout your whole exchange.
âYour cardâs declined, miss.â
The remaining colour drains from your face at his words. This really canât be happening.
âCould youâŚcould you try again, please?â
The teenager just rolls his eyes, and if you werenât so mortified, youâd probably give him some shit for being so rude. But again, the familiar sound of your card being declined fills the little station, and when he hands your card back, you just mumble, âJust a second, please,â before stepping to the far corner by the cooling systems and getting your phone out.
And sure enough, your banking app shows youâre completely drained. Fuck. So thereâs only one option left, then.
âPick up, pick up, pick up.â
âYo,â Yoongi grumbles, and youâre pretty sure you can hear Jungkookâs panicked voice in the background, asking whatâs happened.
âI need your help,â you whisper, glancing over at the teenager to check if he can hear, but heâs already engrossed in his phone again.
âWhat do you need?â
âIâm short on cash. I canât payââ
âWhy?â
Yoongiâs tone isnât accusatory in the slightest, just genuinely surprised. Hope comes into the station now too, cocking a brow at you, which you try to ease with a shaky smile.
âMy employerâs late with my pay. Again. And the trip and, uhâŚit all justâŚâ
âIâm sorry,â Yoongi says, flat, almost monotone, but you know he feels awful now, realising youâre actually struggling, not just joking around. Itâs not his fault though; you never talk about money, and maybe heâs apologising not just because he let you pay for everything, but because you havenât had these conversations before.
âSâalright. Can you just transfer some money quickly so I canââ
âYeah.â
âThank you.â
You hear him sighâone that says, Donât make this a thing now. Hopeâs already paid for his, waiting by the door with his hands in his pockets, scanning some nearby magazines.
Knowing not to waste any more time, you hang up, open your banking app again, and refresh it every few seconds until there it is: a transfer of ten fucking thousand dollars from Yoongi, with the note, Shouldâve told me sooner.
You make a mental note to give him a piece of your mind regarding the sum later as you pay for the petrol, and dash out of the station, dragging Hope with you to escape the embarrassment as soon as possible.Â
âSlow down, will you?â
You let go of his arm once youâre by his car, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration as you mumble, âSorry. God, Iâm such a mess.â
âCome on, weâll talk in the car. I just wanna get home.â
And you do, silently, closing your eyes as the car winds through the woods back the way you came.
You know Hope doesnât want to pressure you, but you want to talk about it, just because bottling it up any longer would fry your brain.
âMy employer still hasnât transferred my pay,â you mumble. âI had to call Yoongi to borrow money.â
Hope lets out a long breath through his nose, shaking his head slowly as he listens.
âAgain, as in this isnât the first time?â
âYeah, as in he owes me several thousand dollars by now.â
âThousands?â
You tap your knuckle against the window, doing a quick mental tally of how much has piled up since you started working for this guy. âAbout fifty. Maybe a bit more.â
âNo. Fucking. Way.â Hope glances over at you with each word, then back to the road. â___, thatâs insane. Fifty thousand?! Why havenât you sued him? Or quit?â
âIâŚâ Yeah, good question. âI actually donât know.â
Itâs not like itâs a brilliant job worth hanging on to, but working from home has its perks, and finding another role in your field? Thatâs practically impossible without connections, which you definitely donât have, seeing as you work from home and have done for years.
âYouâre an accountant, yeah?â
âHow do you know?â you ask, stopping your gentle tapping against the window to look over at his profile.Â
âOh, who dâyou think told me?â He gives you a side-eye, looking slightly annoyed, and you just nod. âAreumâs an accountant too. She works for PwC, all remote. Theyâre looking for someone to cover her on maternity leave, and she gets to pick who fills in for her, sooooâŚâ
âSoooâŚ?â
âWoman, Iâm not spelling it out for you. Youâre not that thick.â
Ouch. âHey! Stop being so rude to me.â
âThen stop acting daft when youâre not.â
God, you want to strangle him. No wonder he gets along so well with Yoongi. You thought he was just this little ray of sunshine with that stupid bright laugh, but heâs feisty as hell.
âIâll think about it,â you mumble, knowing decisions like this arenât made right now, especially as the painkillers wear off and your mindâs about to shut down along with your eyelids.
Eventually, sleep takes over, and if youâre honest, you donât bother fighting it.
â___, wake up.â Hopeâs voice and the gentle push of his hand against your shoulder rouse you not long after. And even though sleeping, even just a bit, should have done you some good, you feel worse after a fifteen-minute nap.
Reluctantly, you straighten in your seat, trying to wake up properly, and smack your lips to get the awful taste off your tongue, but itâs no use. Youâll need to brush your teeth as soon as youâre in the suiteâthereâs no way around it.
âThanks for driving me,â you rasp, glancing out of the windscreen to see Jungkook hopping from one foot to the other in the cold, his breath rising in small clouds in front of him. âWhatâs he doing outside?â
âHeâs waiting for you.â
âOh.â
Itâs a mystery why Jungkook would do that, seeing as youâre clearly not on good terms. Youâve been trading jabs and whatnot with every interaction, so the fact that heâs not fed up by now is really baffling.
âIâm heading straight home if thatâs okay.â
âOh. Sure, yes, of course, sorry.â You unbuckle your seatbelt, knowing you shouldnât overstay your welcome, especially as Hope is snickering again. âThanks again and goodnight.â
âGoodnight. AndâŚtalk to him.â
Well, you donât really have a choice now. Especially when, after closing the passenger door, you walk to the boot to get your half-empty canister, only to find Jungkook already beside you.
âHere, let me help.â
He doesnât meet your eyes this time, which feels strange after he spent all afternoon staring at you.
âIâve got this.â
You heft the canister out of the boot and start walking straight to Tony to fill him up, letting the canister rest by your legs, you wave Hope off as he drives away, then clear the side of Tony of snow.
âWhat are you doing?â Jungkook stands beside you, arms crossed, chest puffed out. He looks intimidatingâhotly soâbut youâre still pissed and very much not in the mood for a chat.
âWhat does it look like?â
He just shrugs with a smirk, and as you finish clearing the snow, you realise youâve done the wrong side of Tony.Â
How embarrassing.
âDonât say anything.â
And he doesnât, aside from a quiet snicker as he follows you to the other side, where you finally start clearing the right bit of snow. This time, you find the cap and pull out your car keys to open it.
Ignoring your wishes, Jungkook picks up the canister and starts pouring the petrol into the car, biting his lip piercings again.
âTalk,â you snap, wanting to get this over withâwhatever it is thatâs bothering him so much heâs biting his lip bloody.
Jungkook glances briefly at you, and while youâve seen that sad expression on him countless times, it still stings.
âWhy did you leave?â
You sigh, glance towards the hostel, and look back at him. âWhen? When I broke up with you? On the slope yesterday? From the party? Or to the petrol station?â
Alright, it sounded cooler in your head, but youâre now realising you might have a bit of a tendency to run off. Oops.
âAll of them, I guess.â He muses, shutting the cap and screwing the canister lid back on as he turns to you fully.
âJungkook, thatâs a conversation Iâm not having with you right now.â
âAnd when would be the best time for it?â
âOh, I donât know. Maybe not outside, not in the middle of the night, not when Iâm batshit hungover, and especially not when youâve built a new life for yourself.â
That last bit wasnât really what you wanted to say, but it slipped out anyway, the perfect proof that itâs indeed not the best time.Â
âThatâs not fair.â
âItâs not fair for you to treat me like this, Jungkook. Iâm not doing this anymore.â
You turn while watching him run a hand through his hair, then stomp through the deep snow towards the hostel to stop yourself freezing out here.
âStop running away!â
âIâm not running away. Iâm going to bed. You should too.â
Jungkook catches the door at the last second and steps into Dionysus right behind you.
âYou are running away.â
You turn to face him sharply, causing him to nearly bulldoze into you, but he catches himself in time, stepping back a bit with his hands on his hips, still clutching the canister in his reddened hand.
âWhy did you need petrol for Tony, whoâs been out of it for days? Why now?â
You purse your lips, mirroring his stance instinctively, staring each other down. Youâre stubborn, but so is he, and youâre not backing down. He wants to start a fight? See who breaks first? See if youâre really running away from him? Well, youâll prove him wrong.
âSafety. Caution. Responsibility. Take your pick.â
Thereâs a familiar glint in his eyesâthe one that says he knows youâre bullshitting him. God, youâve missed this. Missed him.
âSo, not fleeing the scene, hm?â
âNot fleeing the scene.â
And youâre not. Change of plans: youâre staying. Youâll stay, and youâll whoop his ass by becoming the best snowboarder on the planet.
Jungkook just nods, and you nod back.
Usually, this would be the moment heâd tackle you and fuck the truth out of you in no time. And though you can vividly picture it, you need to keep your distance. So before the tension builds too much, before Jungkook becomes too much, you stop nodding and let your arms drop to your sides.
âGoodnight, Jungkook.â
He mirrors your stance, and though his eyes dim with that usual sadness, you refuse to see it as longing. Because why would he?
âGoodnight, ___.â
You nod, and while you canât quite tear yourself away from his gaze, you eventually turn and head up to your suite, finding Yoongi already silently and fast asleep, you canât help but to leave a tiny gap in the door, just enough to watch as Jungkook disappears into his own room.
Day 5
You feel good.
No, scratch thatâyou feel absolutely pumped, energised, and oh-so-ready for the day. Thereâs a wild fire blazing through your veins, just waiting to be unleashed, and youâre absolutely down for it.
Sitting alone in the dining room after that little talk with Yoongi about the sum he transferred to your bank account, only to be met with an eye roll in response, youâre busy preparing the most protein-packed breakfast Namjoonâs buffet has on offer. Youâll definitely need itânot just because your bodyâs craving nutrients, but because your brain needs to be at its best so you can finally beat Jungkook at his own game.
No, not with his petty remarks and actions, but by getting your answers with carefully placed, strategically even, questions so he doesnât even realise youâre grilling him. Youâre brilliant, so of course you can pull this off. The sulky victim era of ___ is overâhere comes the new, improved you.
Though, if youâre honest, you know thereâs a pretty decent chance that Jungkook might catch on to your plan. Heâs always been good at that, always been just as brilliant as you. But his competitive side usually has you beat by the end of the day. But not today. Today, youâre determined to win.
Especially when the man himself strolls in, looking sinfully good. His hairâs damp, falling messily over his forehead and eyes, while his thin white shirt hangs loosely off his shoulders, clinging slightly to his skin where he didnât dry off properly.
âMorning, Kook,â you chirp, practically singing it, intentionally calling him by the nickname you lovingly gave him all those years ago.
Jungkook slows his steps, one eyebrow raised and lips pursed. The confusionâs painted all across his face exactly as youâd hoped. Excellent.
âMorning.â He stops at your table, glancing at the empty chairs next to you and opposite you, and when he takes the one right beside you, youâre doing a little celebratory dance on the inside.
âDid you sleep well, Kook?â He eyes you as he gets his plate ready, and while he answers, you take a small bite of your food, your overly cheerful grin firmly in place.
âUh, yeah, did you?â
âOf course! Snuggly kept me company all night.â
The confusion in Jungkookâs eyes deepens, and youâd give anything to know whatâs running through his head right now. You keep your face just as innocent and cheerful as possible, though itâs getting harder by the second.
âSo, whatâve you been up to these past five months?â If your mathâs right, Haraâs now a little over four months along. So, if Jungkook was around back then, youâve got your answer.
âFive months?â He raises an eyebrow again, biting into the sandwich heâs just thrown together. Thereâs far more ham than breadâprobably more to keep his hands clean than for actual taste.
âYeah, whereâve you all been, then?â
âUh,â Jungkook chews, blinking at you. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to figure you out. âIâve been to Bangkok, Hawaii, and, uh⌠before that, I was here for a few months.â
No. Fucking. Way. So all those mixed signals, not only from Jungkook but all his friends too, werenât so mixed after all.
âThis townâs pretty small. Is there anything exciting to do off-season?â
âWell, Hara had a huge birthday celebration. So there was that.â
âHaraâs birthdayâs in August?â
âYeah, why?â
So he gave her a baby for her birthday. How pathetic it makes you feel, realising youâve been too busy being still his to fall for someone new all this time. But you donât let the heartbreak show this time. You swallow it down because shutting down wonât help you now.
âJust asking.â
Jungkook just nods again, still contemplating your words, trying to read your motives like he always does, though youâre as blank as can be beneath your smile. Itâs not that youâve lost your determination to get through snowboardingâno, youâre way too competitive and stubborn to back down now. Still, you kind of wish you were as drunk as youâd been two days ago.
The upside of being fully sober again is that you feel fantastic. Physically, anyway. The downside is that your brain wonât shut up.
You vividly remember the night you ended things, the exhaustion, the desperation in your every word as you tried to explain yourself to him. It wasnât that you didnât love him; you did and you still do, maybe even more than you should. But back then, youâd grown tired of always feeling like you werenât enough, of feeling like you were someone he didnât really need.
Youâd always been the one to soothe your doubts on your own, to make excuses for him and his choices, to tell yourself it was just a phase, that heâd eventually grow out of itâthat heâd grow out of it for you. Not that heâd never do anything risky again, but just enough for him to see that some things are too dangerous to try.
Losing him was completely your fault, you know that, and even though heâs going to be a dadâeven if itâs not your childâyouâd crawl back to him in a heartbeat if there were any chance. Not that youâd ever be a homewrecker; thatâs something youâd never do, and youâll respect any relationship on earth as it is. But if heâs only going to be a father, if heâs only co-parenting with Hara and theyâre not together, youâd try to make it work somehow.
Or maybe youâre just delusional, thinking youâd be okay with him having a kid thatâs not yours. Because deep down, the thought of him being with someone else after youâeven if you werenât together anymoreâmakes you want to throw up. Not just because picturing it is one of your worst nightmares, but because all the love declarations he made, and will probably make again in that scenario, would be empty in their truest form. At least in your eyes.Â
Thereâs nothing you can do about it; itâs not like youâre some grandma who thinks virginity before marriage is a must. But if he was with you and says heâd want to be with you again, thereâs no chance if he had someone else in between.
Jungkook sniffs beside you, and youâre not exactly proud that, since learning heâs staying here at the hostel too, youâve kept spare napkins nearby, just like the good old days, and youâre not proud as you hand him one with a small smile, still chewing, knowing his rhinitis is worst in the morning.
âThanks,â heâs smiling, though thereâs still that look of doubt in his eyes, as if heâs still trying to work out what youâre up to. âSo, how about you?â
Youâve half a mind to exaggerate again, but you know youâll need to save your energy today, especially since youâre spending the whole day with Jungkook. So you stick to the truth. âNothing really. Mostly work, and a few activities Iâve tried.â
âItâs weird.â
âWhat is?â
âYou doing all that stuff.â
Jungkook doesnât look as accusatory as he did the first day; this time, he actually looksâŚsad.
âDidnât you want me that way?â You keep your tone light, friendly even, but deep down, that old pettiness rises to the surface.
âNo.â The word slips from his lips without a momentâs hesitation, his sad eyes fixed on yours, and suddenly, you canât breathe. It just doesnât make sense.
âIâŚwhy?â
He slowly swallows his last bite and reaches for his coffee, just to toy with the rim of the mug. Then he lifts his gaze to meet yours, boring into your irises as if to tell you more than heâs actually saying. âThatâs not you.â
You just stare at him, trying to understand why heâd want you to change all those years ago, only to now tell you, indirectly, he doesnât like the person heâd pushed you to become. No words form in your brain, again too overwhelmed by it all, so you just nod, because quite honestly, heâs right. Itâs not who you are, even if some of the less riskier activities, like snowboarding, turned out to be more fun than youâd expected.
Jungkook doesnât seem to handle the silence well as you quietly finish your meal, as his leg starts bouncing under the table again, occasionally brushing against yours. Youâre sure he doesnât even notice it, but you do and while you think about shifting your leg slightly away, that faint touch of his somehow soothes the intense longing you have for him.
How many times youâve thought about calling him, only to remind yourself he was the one who let you go without a word, is beyond counting now. Trying to count would be like trying to reach infinity without breaking down as the despair catches up to you and you simply canât do either.Â
You need, with all your might, to pull your mind out of this endless void and focus on the good. Youâre able to have a normal conversation with Jungkook. Heâs fine. Youâre fine. And if you can make it through these next two weeks, you tell yourself that youâll be fine too, even if itâs without him. Because that countdown in your head has shiftedâfrom thinking youâve got time to work things out, to savouring these last moments with him as much as possible, hoping to make memories you can hold onto as fondly as the ones you made all those years ago.
âSo, todayâs blue slope day?â
Jungkook nods with a smirk, eyes still on his cup, clearly lost in thought. âYeah. You ready?â
âSure. I was born ready.â
The snort that escapes him mirrors your own, letting the sadness fade into that playful light in his eyes youâve always adored when he finally looks back up to you.Â
âThen letâs head out, shall we?â
âYes, sir!â You salute playfully, downing the rest of your or rather his iced Americanoâsneakily poured into a regular mugâin one go and standing as soon as Jungkook does.
It doesnât take long for you both to get fully geared up and leave the hostel, Jungkook closing the usual distance between you by walking much closer than he has on any of the previous days, though you welcome it this time.Â
âGive me your board.â Jungkook stretches out his free hand towards you when youâre just a few feet away from Dionysos.
âI can handle it.â
âI know you can. But you donât have to.â
Wondering whether youâre about to be stubborn again, you decide to let him help you. Itâs a nice gesture, and knowing his strengthâwhich has clearly grown over the last few yearsâitâs no bother for him to carry your snowboard too. So you hand it to him, mumbling a small, grateful âthanksâ and fall into step with him, the rustling of your gear and the dull thud of your boots the only sounds breaking the otherwise silent streets.
âItâs such a lovely day.â You marvel at the first rays of sunlight shining down, making the snow-covered streets steam ever so slightly, looking straight out of a fantasy.
The townâs not fully awake yet; a few people are setting up their displays outside, greeting you both with warm smiles and friendly faces. Itâs easy being here, so welcoming when you ignore the chaos thatâs crashed down on you since you arrived.
Youâd like to imagine living here, spending the rest of your life in this place with Jungkook, befriending his friends too, all in some alternate universe. You daydream about a winter wedding, teaching your kids how to build a snowman, and everything else.
It would be nice, it would be perfect. Because in that universe, youâd still be with Jungkook, and youâd be not only happy but fulfilled.
âIt is, the slopes should be perfect too.â
A small group of kindergarteners crosses your path just before the slopes, and as your gaze drifts from them to the shop windows behind, you catch the reflection of you and Jungkook side by side. Heâs looking at the kids, full of adoration, with that same endearing smile you fell in love with all those years ago.
His hairâs just as shiny and healthy, his eyes sparkling in that familiar way. Youâve always known how much Jungkook wants a familyâhe always has, just as you always did. Itâs one of the reasons you connected so quickly. His values and hopes for the future aligned so perfectly with yours that falling for him and picturing a life together was almost inevitable.
You knew back then that having different hobbies wasnât the most important thing in a relationship, that differences in those areas wouldnât decide its downfall. But somehow, you both let those differences take centre stage.
It wasnât just poor communication that damaged things; you lost sight of what truly mattered, letting the good become tainted with doubt, trust begin to crack, and your hearts bleed in ways they never should have.
Standing there now, side by side, you realise that everything that happened, the way you both handled things, was so unnecessarily foolish. You wish youâd made different choices. You look perfect together, like one of those couples you see and just know theyâre meant to be, like theyâre soulmates, like theyâre fated.
Jungkookâs eyes lift up, catching yours in the window, and his smile grows just a bit wider. Thereâs still that adoration thereâor is it just nostalgia? Or maybe itâs the inner peace he feels, knowing heâll soon have a child of his own? Youâre not sure, and youâre afraid to let yourself think too deeply about it. Because, honestly, if itâs anything but adoration, youâd spiral so much, so irrevocably, that you might just break all over again.
Switching your board to his other hand, where heâs already holding his own, he lifts his now free arm and wraps it over your shoulder, pulling you into his side. Your head doesnât even reach his eyes, and your shoulder aligns perfectly with his arm, like youâre a puzzle piece fitting into him. You canât help the broad smile that breaks over your face when he says, âIâm glad youâre here.â
You turn away from the window, tilting your head up to look into his beautiful brown eyes, taking in this small, pure moment that youâll lock away in the deepest parts of your heart and cherish for the rest of your life. âMe too.â
Simple moments like these with Jungkook have always been so beautiful. Itâs always been like this, just the two of you in a bubble where nothing else matters. The ache in your heart should ease in moments like this, but instead, it grows, the longing building until itâs nearly unbearable.
How perfect it would feel to kiss him now, how your heart and soul would sing if he kissed you back. The realisationâthe overwhelming certaintyâthat he truly was the one for you hits you like an avalanche, burying you so deeply youâll never find a way out.
Still, you turn your face away, and he lets you go.
âLetâs get it.â Jungkook cheers, and you echo his words, because you donât know what else to say, walking side by side to the lift. Thankfully, this time without any annoying interruptions from his fangirls.
The first ride up in the ski gondola is equal parts terrifying and beautiful. The trees below look like miniature toys, and the mountain peaks seem too stunning to be real, like a picture painted by an artist. The gondola is empty except for the two of you, Jungkook sitting across from you, both of you gazing outside. But every now and then, you canât help glancing at his reflection.
Jungkook talks the entire way up, going over everything you should know about snowboarding by now. His calm voice, his solid presence right in front of you, and his patient review of the basics settle the last of your nerves, along with Hopeâs words, still ringing loudly in your mind.
Fear is faith in the negative.
And you donât want to live like that againânot now, and not when itâs just snowboarding. You trust your own abilities, and you trust Jungkook to keep you safe, like he always has. Well, aside from that one camping incidentâbut youâll turn a blind eye to that for now. You have to, because one lapse in his judgement all those years ago shouldnât undo everything else heâs proven to you.
The morning is spent making descent after descent, each one becoming easier and more fun, especially with Jungkook staying close. You manage to fall less and less, and when you do, heâs always right there, reaching out to help you back on your feet.
And while youâre laughing and joking like old times, it feels as if no time has passed at all.
Just before lunch, you both find yourselves back at the gondola, though this time itâs a different one.
âThereâs this restaurant way up there.â Jungkook points into the distance, and you squint, trying to follow his finger, but the sun is too bright to make out exactly where heâs pointing. âThe foodâs amazing, and weâll be able to take a way longer run down. Itâll build your stamina and get you ready for the harder slopes tomorrow.â
âSounds good.â You smile at him, excited not only for the food but also for the chance to push yourself a bit more.
When you step into the gondola with a few others, itâs so packed that you have to squeeze in beside Jungkook, pressing against his side. With his broad shoulders and your thick coat, thereâs not much room and after a few minutes, Jungkook shifts and lifts his arm, draping it over your shoulder to give you both a bit more space.
You frown. Even though itâs more comfortable this way, you donât like it at all. If heâs with Hara, this is crossing boundaries left and right. You know that if you were still together and he did this with another woman, itâd be a dealbreaker.
The gesture sours your mood instantly, letting your thoughts spiral in a way that has you dangerously close to snapping at him. But you hold back. You wonât start a scene now, not here; youâll wait until youâre at the restaurant and talk things through.
When you reach the top and leave the gondola, heading toward the small restaurant by the lift, Jungkook keeps his hand resting lightly on your back.
Itâs ironic, really. You left because you wanted him to find happiness, to be with someone who wouldnât bring conflict, someone he wouldnât feel the need to change. And here he is, supposedly happy, yet acting like youâre still his, clinging to old habits like theyâre the only things he has left with you.Â
Maybe thatâs the saddest part of all. Heâs got everything he once told you he wanted, yet heâs still holding onto pieces of the past, unable to let them go. And maybe heâll never fully move on, just like you havenât, even if he thinks he has. But thatâs not something you can fix. You triedâmore than onceâto help him keep his distance, to let go of whatever still kept him wounded. Even if it wasnât the perfect approach, pretending to be with Yoongi, you thought it might help him move on. But he has to handle that himself now; youâre done being the one to guide him there.
You deserve peace, too. You deserve to be able to look back on your time together without feeling unresolved tension. If that means keeping your distance, letting him live his life with Hara without stepping in, then so be it. Youâre done making excuses for him, done justifying his behaviour to yourself. Heâs made his choices, back then and now too, and now itâs time for you to make yours.
You take a deep breath, letting it all settle within you as you step into the restaurant. The hurt, the sadness, the longingâsure, itâs all still there, and maybe it always will be. But now, itâs just that: memories. Moments you once cherished, now filed away in a part of your heart that no longer needs to cling so tightly. Or at least, thatâs what you hope.
As you sit down across from him, letting go bit by bit, you realise that maybe this is what closure should feel like. Hurtful, and not freeing at all.Â
âYouâre kinda touchy.âÂ
Jungkook looks up from his menu, running the tip of his tongue over his lip piercing. âI always am.â
Your lips press into a firm line, shoulders tensing even more. Jungkookâs eyes dart over you, and he realises too late that your mood has shifted. As he catches on, his nervous habits start to surface in an instant. He fumbles with his menu, his leg bouncing so hard that the tablecloth shifts slightly with each movement.
âDoesnât it feel wrong to you?â You ask, your tone so accusatory it even startles you.
Jungkook gulps, actually gulps, and you feel the urge to laugh or maybe storm off altogether.
âNo?â He sounds uncertain, though thereâs a strange conviction in his voice, even with his nerves. âDoes it bother you?â
âYes.â
You stare each other down, Jungkook nodding but tilting his head slightly, eyebrows drawn. âIs it because of Yoongi?â
Should you come clean and tell him youâre not dating Yoongi, that heâs just your cousin? But you canât see the point. It wouldnât change anything now, youâre sure of that. Though youâre not sure if the snort and shake of your head is more because of how absurd it all is, or if itâs meant to answer his question. Either way, it fits. And as Jungkook exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw clenching in a steady rhythm, you donât say anything more.
The tension between you feels like itâs growing and the silence between you both is almost suffocating you. You try to distract yourself by looking at the scenery outside the window, but itâs no use.
âI never wanted to do all those things,â you mumble, as if you can somehow lift a bit of the weight off your chest. âBut I felt soâŚso unworthyâŚso empty. I needed to do it, even if I hated most of it.â
The waiter sets down your plates and drinks, wishing you a pleasant meal. Still, you donât look up at Jungkook, maybe out of embarrassment, maybe because you just canât. Instead, you stare at your food, forcing yourself to eat, even if itâs only a little.
âYou shouldnât have.â His voice is gentle, and you feel his gaze burning onto your face, though you try to ignore it. âNot for someone else, at least.â
Is he talking about himself? Or does he think you did it all for Yoongi? Either way, heâs right, though those words would have made more difference if heâd said them years ago.
âMaybe youâre right.â
Itâs unusual to see Jungkook eating so slowly, and itâs not like you to keep so quiet, either. Itâs not that you canât handle silence, but sharing a meal like this without any connection feels so pointless.
âWas it easy?â Jungkook eventually asks, and your eyes involuntarily snap up to him.
âWhat was?â
âMoving on so fastâŚâ
Sometimes, looking at Jungkook like you do now, you marvel at how much heâs matured. His features have lost that softness, his smooth skin now showing faint lines from laughter and time you werenât there to share.
Youâd always imagined growing old with him, and even though it hasnât been that long, your heart aches for all the time lost.
The faint, bluish shadows under his eyes, something he didnât even have during his finals, make him look not just tired, but drained off life. You can only hope itâs not because of you.
âI never did, so I canât say.â
You both go back to eating, letting silence settle again as you try to process it all. Maybe you need a whiteboard, or even a list, something to help you make sense of it all, thinking youâll definitely do that later, once youâre back at the hostel tonight.Â
More than half your plate is still full, but you canât seem to eat any more. As you set your cutlery down and tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you notice Jungkookâs already finished his meal.
âYou should eat more.â
âIâm full. Iâll just take it to go.â
And after Jungkook sighs and nods, you do just that, quickly insisting youâll pay for your own meal, refusing to let him cover it for you.
Finally back outside, the sky has shifted, like your mood, from sunny and clear to dark, with low-hanging, heavy clouds.
âThatâs odd,â Jungkook mutters, fishing his phone out and typing quickly. âForecast didnât mention a downpour.â
âWhat should we do?â Your nerves flare, body tingling and palms starting to sweat as that familiar panic creeps in, the kind that takes over any time things veer off-plan.
Jungkookâs eyes dart over his screen, only adding to your unease.
âShit,â he curses under his breath and puts his phone away. âSo, uh, thereâs a thunder cell thatâs come up out of nowhere, and thereâs a warning for a severe snowstorm. But itâs all good. We still have time.â
Just then, the first big snowflakes start falling from the clouds, and the wind picks up. As you look up at the sky, your voice trembles, âJungkook?â
âAlright, okay, maybe we donât have as much time as I thought. Weâre going to head down this way quickly, but safely.â He points toward a fork in the path where you can see a sign with a blue dot in one direction and a black one in the otherâthe black meaning itâs the most difficult and dangerous run there is.
âOkay.â You donât sound entirely convinced, partly because, while you believe in your skills, you know that in these weather conditions, even the best skills wonât count for much.
âStrap on your board. We need to go.â
And you follow his instructions because, at this point, thereâs no other option. The wind has picked up dramatically by the time you straighten up again, and you have to strain every muscle to stay upright against its force.
Youâre terrified, and Jungkookâs focused, hurried pace isnât doing much to settle your nerves.
âYouâre leading, so I can keep my eyes on you.âÂ
You nod, shifting your weight forward to start descending, but keeping control of the board proves not just difficult, but almost impossible. Your vision blurs with the flurry of snowflakes, even through your goggles, you can barely make out the slope or see the fork ahead.
âTo the right!â you hear Jungkook shout from behind, his voice frantic to its core. But as you pick up speed, the wind shoves you beyond the limit of what you can handle, pushing you towards the left, dangerously close to the black run.
âTo the right, ___!â
You try, you really do, but you canât seem to manage it. Like a leaf in a gale, youâre pulled in the direction you donât want to go, helpless to stop it. Lungs burning with each short breath, you think you scream the moment you realise itâs too late, skidding down the steep, black slope.
You try to brake, just like Jungkook taught you, but your knees are weak, your muscles not trained enough to regain control.
Jungkook rushes up beside you, and even though youâre in full survival mode, his presence brings you a tiny sliver of reassurance, even if itâs just for a while.Â
âYouâre doing good, keep going!â
And you do, tears streaming down under your scarf. The storm keeps pushing you off course, pulling you again and again in directions you donât want to go. But Jungkookâs right there, sticking close beside you, trying to block out some of the windâs blasts and guiding you as best as he can.
It feels like an eternityâfighting against nature, fighting to stay upright, fighting the fear building stronger and stronger in your chest. Somehow, even though you left the marked slope ages ago, heading somewhere unknown and unsure if itâll lead you to safety, you spot a small, abandoned-looking hut in the distance.
âTry to stop!â Jungkook yells, his voice barely reaching you through the howling wind.
âNow?â
âNow!â
You manage to stop, though clumsily, falling hard onto your bum, every muscle aching so painfully youâre barely able to move. Jungkook ditches his board in seconds, crawling over to help you with yours as the frozen clips stubbornly resist coming loose.
âYou good?â He glances briefly at your face, breath visible in short puffs matching yours, his lips chapped and slightly split.
You nod, though youâre still trembling, trying to steady yourself as adrenaline surges through you without much mercy.Â
Jungkook gets up with your board in hand, offering his free hand to you in a heartbeat and pulling you up effortlessly. After he picks up his own board, jointing yours, he clasps your hand with his free one and bolts towards the hut, dragging you along with him.Â
Thankfully, or rather miraculously, the hutâs indeed abandoned and open. And while Jungkook pushes you inside first, letting the boards clatter onto the wooden floor as he leans against the door, both of you are panting and gasping for air, needing this break more than anything.Â
The hutâs not really windproof, small gaps in the wooden walls still letting the cold wind whistle inside.
âSeriously? What the hell were you thinking?!â He rips his helmet off and throws it to the boards on the ground.
You try to straighten yourself, though the acheâs nearly too much. âI⌠I tried. I⌠itâŚâ
âYou just never listen, do you? I told you to turn right back there, but of course, you went your own way. Always have, always will.â
The storm outsideâs picked up even more now, and the cold has seeped into your bones, though you still fold your arms, doing your best to keep your voice steady despite the burn in your lungs. âOh, please, Jungkook. Donât act like Iâm the only one who doesnât listen. Youâve got selective hearing when it suits you.â
He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a gloved hand through his sweat-dampened hair. âSelective hearing? I spent years trying to tell you things, but you were always too stubborn to actually listen.â
âRight, yeah, Iâm the stubborn one,â you snap right back. âYou still canât even talk to me unless itâs about some bullshit like snowboarding.â
âOh, as if youâre any better.â
âI am! You didnât even say one word before I left!â you explode, ripping off your helmet too, followed by your gloves, yeeting them across the hut.
âOh, fuck off, ___! I wanted to, but clearly, you couldnât wait to fuck Yoongi as soon as you got rid off me!â
âYoongiâs my cousin, Jungkook. Family. But I wouldnât expect you to know that, since you barely know anything about my life anymore.â
Jungkookâs face falls at that, and you can clearly see how his whole world view crumbles in his eyes, leaving nothing behind but a hollow sadness youâve never seen before. Though youâre sad too, youâre hollow too, and so you continue, âDonât pin this on me when I never moved on, when you were the one fucking Hara and giving her a baby.â
His unfocused eyes snap to you, lips still parted as he breathes, âI never slept with her. Sheâs Jinâs wife.â
You feel like youâre falling, falling so hard and fast you canât stop. The tears that coat your eyes are nothing compared to the agonising realisation ripping you open. All those years, even all this hurt youâve been experiencing these last few days, were unfounded.
If you werenât this close to Jungkook, youâd think his red nose was just from the cold, but the silver lining his eyes carry shows just how broken you both are, what you did to yourselves without even realising it in the first place.Â
âYou moved on,â you press out, fighting the sob that threatens to spill.
âI havenât.â
How foolish all the assumptions were, how foolish of him to assume just as much. How utterly foolish that you both lost the ability to talk to each other long before your relationship ended.
But maybe it had to come to this for you to learn what itâs like to be separated, to learn how to communicate⌠but have you really? You reckon you havenât, not given how things went down. Maybe itâs too late, just as Hope warned you, though a small, fragile part in you clings to the delusion that things might still turn out right.
âLetâs⌠letâs call for help.â You turn, unable to keep looking at Jungkook, and youâre sure he needs time to process the bomb thatâs just dropped.
âYeah,â heâs taking out his phone again, though the breath he lets out is nothing short of concerning. âMy phoneâs dead. How about yours?â
By now youâve sat down on the small, bare bed, as standing any longer would have had you fainting by this point. While you rummage through your inner coat pocket to pull out your old beaten-up phone, Jungkook stomps over with his snow-covered boots and sits down beside you, leaving enough space between you that it feels like miles.
Lighting up the screen, you see your phoneâs battery miraculously still well over 90%, but thereâs absolutely no signal. âNope, no signal. Weâre stranded.â
Just as youâre about to put your phone back, Jungkook stops you with his voice. âYou still got the case?â
You pause, looking over at him, only to meet hopeful eyes you canât quite place.
âUh, yeah. You clearly got rid of yours though.â
You hate sounding so bitter, but it is what it is. Years of feeling the way you did canât be undone with one revelation.
âI lost it⌠my phone, too, when I was in the Caribbean shortly after weâŚâ
You hum and nod because what else is there to do?
âWhy did you keep it?â
Your eyes stray from your phone, where youâre running your thumb over one of Jungkookâs doodles on the case like it always does, to him, though heâs not looking at you this time, just fiddling with his gloves in his lap.
âI canât get rid of memories. You should know that.â
âEven if theyâre bad?â He turns his head to you, though his eyes are fixed on your phone. The way heâs slouching is so unlike him, and it hurts to see what youâve done to him.
âThey arenât bad.â
Jungkook nods a few times, as if heâs trying to cement your words in his mind, rewriting everything he thought was real but never was.
Eventually, Jungkook stands up and walks over to a small closet, pulling open the doors to see whatâs inside.
âNo way.â He breathes out a laugh, and you crane your neck to look past his broad shoulders, though itâs no use.
When he turns, arms full of vacuum bags stuffed with blankets and pillows, you feel like you might scream in delight. Especially when Jungkook rips them open beside you and a waft of freshly washed fabric hits you.
âThatâs like hitting the jackpot.â You look up at him, your grin as wide as his as he just laughs. âCan you light the fireplace too?â
Jungkook furrows his brows as he looks around the hut, likely because he hadnât spotted it until now. But as soon as he clocks it, along with the stack of dried wood beside it, heâs off in a flash, inspecting the chimney and everything else.
Meanwhile, you gather all the bedding and spread it out on the bed, purposefully ignoring the fact that thereâs only this one bed in the hut and not even a couch. It shouldnât be a big dealâyouâve done more than sleep in the same bed as Jungkook before, and youâre both clearly single, so thereâs nothing your conscience can protest about.
Still, time has passed, and youâve clearly drifted apart more than you wouldâve liked. Itâs an unusual situation youâre in, an emergency really, and youâll have to adjust to it without reading too much into it.
âGot a lighter on you?â
You pull it out of your pocket, leaving Yoongiâs cigarettes in your pocket that you nicked this morning alongside before leaving, and toss the lighter his way which he catches effortlessly with one hand, lighting up the kindling heâs set, framed by a few larger sticks of wood.
Jungkook watches the fire intently, and soon enough the hutâs heating up, allowing you to take off your coat. Not wanting to keep your boots on any longerâby now, theyâve cut off all circulation in your feetâyou pull them off as well, then crawl onto the bed, settling against the headboard under the layers of blankets.
Youâre absolutely knackered at this point, and as you check the time on your phone, you realise itâs already past dinnertime.
âYou can join me, you know?â you smile as Jungkook turns around, muttering an âokayâ and starting to peel off his gear too, though you donât miss the flush creeping up to his ears.
How endearing he can still be.
The bedâs clearly not meant for twoâespecially not when Jungkookâs become this buff. Heâd probably struggle to fit on his own, let alone with someone else. And though youâre fairly petite next to him, youâre both squished together, personal space nonexistent. Still, itâs better than freezing to death outside.
âIâm so tired,â you yawn.
âIâm so hungry.â
The pout on Jungkookâs face makes you giggle; itâs just so him. Without thinking, you lean over him to fetch the food from your coat. Only when you settle back beside him do you notice how stiff heâs gone.
You donât comment on it, just hand him the leftovers, which he reluctantly takes, though this time he doesnât engulf your hands like he did yesterday. Not that youâd admit it, but youâre a bit sad he didnât do it again.
âYou hungry too? Itâs your food.â
âIâm good, Jungkook, please just eat.â
Youâre starting to read him again, just a bit less hazy than it was the last few days. So before he can start arguing with you, those sad boba eyes pleading for you to eat when youâre genuinely not hungry, you lay your hand over his arm, giving it a light squeeze. âIâm not hungry, promise.â
With that, Jungkook starts to eat and you lean back, slumping more into the blankets as he eats in silence, your eyes growing heavy with each passing minute.Â
âYou can sleep if you want.â Jungkook gently pulls the blanket higher over your shoulder as you lie down fully, your head nearly resting against his hip.
âIâm still cold,â you mumble sleepily, though thereâs no chance youâll really fall asleep while youâre still shivering like this. The stormâs really taken it out of you.
Jungkook shifts, and when you open your eyes, you realise heâs finished eating and is lying down facing you. âTurn around.â
Lying beside him like this, faces just inches apart, is something you never thought would happen again. And while itâs hard to look away from himâthe slope of his nose, the Cupidâs bow of his lips making them almost too invitingâyou fight against the blankets draped over you both and turn around. Jungkook slips an arm around your waist without much care, pulling you fully against him until thereâs no space left between you.
Heart racing like a hummingbirdâs wings, you try to relax into his hold, but the thin layer of fabric separating you makes it feel as though youâre bare. Youâd seen the contours of his body when he stripped off his gear, the black thermal shirt and pants clinging to his muscles like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. But feeling his solid body against yours like this, after so long, leaves your head spinning in circles you canât seem to stop.
You havenât noticed how your hips press back against his crotch, havenât noticed the way your body instinctively moves against his until Jungkookâs breath hits your ear.
âSorry,â you breathe, but somehow, you canât bring yourself to stop. His large hand, which had been resting on the mattress beside you, slides up along your stomach, stopping just before cupping your breast from below, and you know youâve stepped through a door that shouldâve been left closed.
Heat rises within you, making you shiver with something far more pleasant than the cold. You need more of him, more of his touch, and your hand slips from beneath the blankets, reaching back to tangle in the hair at the back of his head, willing yourself to just feel and nothing more.Â
His quick breaths ghost across the part of your neck thatâs bare, just enough to spark more want not only in your heart but your cunt too. You tug gently at his hair, urging him down, igniting a fire you know wonât be put out easily.
Before his hand fully cups your breast, he pulls you even tighter against him, hot lips kissing and sucking at your skin as you press yourself back, trying to ease the ache between your legs against his growing cock.
The low moans slipping from Jungkookâs throat are music to your ears, and the realisation that he likely sang that song not for Hara, but for you, sends another wave of arousal out of your cunt.
âJungkookâŚâ you rasp, basking in his touch, but as soon as his name leaves your lips, he pulls back.
Thinking youâve done something wrong, you turn your head, only to see him tugging off the last of his clothes. Relieved and more turned on than youâve ever been, you strip off your own gear, leaving the blanket draped over you. Itâs been years, your bodyâs changed, and while you know it shouldnât matter, you still hope he doesnât notice.
In a blink, heâs back, resuming where he left off, though now itâs his warm, smooth skin against yours. The ridges of his abdomen press along your back, and the feel of his cockâhard and oh so hotâagainst the cheeks of your ass is pure bliss.
You turn your head, trying to catch his gaze, maybe even hoping for a kiss, but when you catch sight of the familiar chain around his neck, it stops you in your tracks.
Jungkook pauses too, his eyes questioning, but as soon as he realises what youâre looking at, he gives you a lazy smirk, his hand cupping your face to turn you towards him and with it your whole body.Â
You expect him to kiss you now, hungrily like he always did, but instead, he brushes his lips along your cheek, your neck, shifting to settle between your legs while the cool metal of the chainâs grazing your tits with every shift of his body.
âI donât have a condom. I couldâŚeat you out.â
His thigh pressing against you doesnât lessen the ache, but you remember the one scare you had together, that time you thought you might be pregnant not long after youâd started dating. It wasnât that you wouldnât have wanted it, but youâd both been so young. Even now, the thought makes your heart skip, but not as violently as it used to. Youâd be ready and willing to take the risk, though, would he?Â
âIâm clean, on the pill.â
Jungkook lets out a low groan against your neck as you press your thigh gently against his cock, needing to give something back.
âI havenât been with anyone since you. So clean.â
Is he serious? The thought hits you hard, and though you know he never lied to you before, you still canât help but pull back, needing to see his face.
âYou havenât?â
âNo.â His voice is barely a whisper, and the same love you remember shines in his eyes, making you tear up.
âMe too.â
âFuck.â He returns to your neck, his fingers tracing your lines until they find your weeping cunt, slipping between your lips to spread your juices in gentle, familiar strokes as he preps you, every touch an echo of the love that maybe never faded.
The first stretch of his middle finger inside you is nothing short of insane, drawing you higher with a single stroke than any toy has managed in years. The way your cunt clenches around him seems to drive Jungkook on even more as he pumps with precise motions, soon adding his ring finger, bringing you dangerously close to euphoria.
Jungkookâs free hand roams from your neck to your tits, back and forth, squeezing, mapping you out like he forgot how you felt like, though finally resting on your jaw as he nestles his head between your shoulder and neck, leaving soft love bites in his wake.
Itâs when he picks up the pace, the base of his palm hitting your clit relentlessly with each thrust, that you come undone, your orgasm flooding over his hand as he continues, determined to not stop just yet.Â
A muffled whine of your name slips from his lips, softer than youâve ever heard, and while you long to hear him call your pet name like he used to, it only amplifies the fullness in your heart for him.
Jungkook keeps his fingers inside you, now scissoring them to stretch you further as you cling to his back, not caring if you leave angry marks.Â
âThink you can take it?â
âYes,â you mewl, not caring if you couldnât. Youâll take him, you need him, need to feel as if none of those years apart ever happened.
Once again, you think he might finally kiss you, but instead, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your damp forehead. You momentarily frown, but itâs forgotten the second his cock aligns with your still sobbing cunt, dragging up and down to coat his entire length and even his tight balls.
The sight of Jungkook when he finally pushes in is nothing short of mesmerising. Heâs so perfectly sculpted, every muscle cord defined, and with his piercings and tattoo sleeve, he looks like a fantasy you never dared dreaming of.Â
Youâve always had a weak spot for tattoos, but seeing them inked across Jungkookâs skin? Thatâs your ultimate downfall. A glorious downfall, as the burn of his thick length pushing deep inside you sends you reeling, until heâs so far in that you canât tell where he starts and you end.
âOh my god,â you choke out, overwhelmed by everything Jungkook isâand everything heâs become.
Heâs unusually silent, though you barely notice, not when he begins to rock his hips, leisurely sliding his massive cock in and out, low grunts and moans escaping him as his gaze locks onto yours and not dares to stray.Â
Jungkook leans back, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, sweat forming in small beads along the ridges of his chest and abs, dripping down despite the cold. His nipples are hard, and your mouth waters with the urge to suck on them. But seeing his own mouth slightly parted, breaths quickening in time with the rhythm of his hips, youâre sure heâs thinking the same, drawn to your own nipples, standing proud on the jiggling flesh of your chest.Â
And while you wish you were the flicker of firelight dancing across his skin, youâre not far behind, as his hands find their way from your hips to your tits, caressing them like he always did, giving you everything and far more. You need something to ground yourself, a way to keep from shattering under the emotions running wild in your mind, intensified with every thrust Jungkook drives into your core. So, you grip his wrists, not to stop him, but to urge him onâto make him pinch harder.
Maybe you need the bite of it, maybe you want him to not just take away the ache, but be the reason you remember this night years from now.
âJungkook, Iâm so close, oh my god.â
The grunt that escapes him reverberates through you, nearly pushing you over the edge on its own, but he slows, setting a gentler pace as he shifts so his mouth can worship you from your breasts to your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys across your delicate skin.
You know the two of you will be marked by the end of the night, and right now, thatâs all you want. You want to leave yourself etched into his skin, to reclaim your place not only in his heart but in every part of him.
In this moment, itâs like youâre finally wholeânot just because Jungkook fills you completely, but because he completes you. He always has, and while youâve both been damned by what happened before, it feels like redemption might be close.
âYouâreâŚâ Jungkook murmurs against your skin, his warm breath searing into you, though you need him to finish his sentence, need to hear it.
But as you cradle his head in your hands and he lifts his gaze to meet yours, his eyes are hooded, yet glistening, and your throat tightens at the sight too.
Face to face, you share the same breath, as if you share one heart, your small hands gripping his face as if you never want to let go, his hands cradling your small head with the tenderness that once meant everything. Itâs as though you feel what heâs trying to sayâbut somehow, you donât.
Thereâs still a wall between you, still something unsaid screaming in the silence that just canât seem to go away, and youâre sure he feels it too. He feels it as your orgasm builds, feels it in the desperation of his own thrusts, in the matching, agonising, wordless ache in both your eyes, feels it when you both shatter together in a burst of all colours and stars in existence.Â
And then, all thatâs left is pain.
He hasnât kissed you, and you didnât kiss him either.
And as he pulls his now-softening length from your still-pulsing cunt and reaches for a tissue from his trousers off the floor to help you clean up, he silently gets dressed.Â
Dresses as if heâs ashamed, dressed as if he regrets it, dressed as if youâre the worst thing thatâs ever happened to him.
So you do the same, slipping into your clothes before lying back down, shifting as close to the wall as possible, facing away from him to give him some peace where none is found.Â
The tears falling silently onto the pillow should only be from the shivering thatâs returned, a byproduct of the cold that momentarily disappeared but is now back as if you were never meant to feel warm again.
Finally, exhaustion sweeps over you. Physically. Mentally. And everything in between.Â
And as Jungkook lies down too, once more pulling you close and wrapping you in the warmth you crave more than you can bear to admit, your eyes fall shut almost effortlessly.
Maybe sleeping it all away will make it better, forgotten as a dream that never was.
Forgotten, like everything good that once was but now isnât anymore.
Forgotten, like the tear you feel slide down the back of your neck, disappearing into the fabric of your shirt where all your sins and failures lie buried.
01 ⢠02 ⢠masterlist ⢠04
a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! đ If you liked what you read, pls consider buying me a âď¸ Ko-fi.com/runariya đ
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#fic: CCL#bts fanfic#bts imagines#bts army#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x you#jungkook imagine#jjk x reader#romcom#Jungkook smut#bts smut#Jungkook fluff#bts fluff#jungkook bts#jungkook romance#Jungkook romcom#jungkook#crack fic#kim namjoon#namjoon#bts namjoon#bts kim seokjin#kim seokjin#bts min yoongi#min yoongi#park jimin#bts park jimin
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yandere genshin men trying to make things right between you
angst, mildly dark themes ayato, neuvillette, pantalone, capitano, dottore, alhaitham
note: trying a new genre.
Neuvillette
Yandere Neuvillette kept forcing you into marriage after your relationship just got established. You asked him to give you some time to think over such radical and responsible change in life, but he was adamant to your pleads. He wanted everything here and now proven officially on the papers. You spent some nights crying because to think that such gentleman-like and solitary person like Neuvillette would force you into marital relationship was eerie. The desire to possess you officially seemed to blind him completely and he went from a loving gentleman to an almost insanely addicted man who did not accept a refusal.
It was your break-time at work when Neuvillette suddenly came up to you. It was odd at first - the judge putting away his duties to meet you seemed almost unbelievable, but remembering how assertive he was in the relationship with you it might have been close to the reality.
âCan I have a moment of your time, love?â He asked you, his hand not reaching to touch you but his gaze was heavy on your face.
âOf course.â
Not longer after the two of you were sitting in the cafeteria - a curious choice for a private conversation. Although you did not deny you seemed much more comfortable in a public place rather than face-to-face with him.
âAbout our marriageâŚâ Neuvillette started, his fingers grazing over his glass of water.
âYou already know my opinionâ, you answered with no emotion. The time to play nice unfortunately came to an end.
But the next response from Neuvillette kind of gave you goosebumps:
âIf I was too harsh on you, I beg of you to forgive me. I have a habit of grasping something dear to me too tightly, and Iâm afraid that I hurt you more than I could possibly imagineâ, he took a pause for a breath and gulped a sip of his crystal clear water. âI genuinely need to know whether or not you still harbour any pleasant feeling towards me?â
âWhat are you saying? Of course I do, NeuvilletteâI admit you were unacceptably rough on me the past few weeks, but it would make me a poor lover if it were to stop me from harbouring affection to you.â
The judge sighed in relief, and then his expression became serious again.
âI would love nothing more than for us to marry, but I realise the circumstances of pushing you too much. Tell me, dear, if you no longer want to proceed in intimate acquiantance with me.â
You shook your head - seems like he was not hearing you. You then took his hand in yours and spelled it again, frankly:
âNo, I want to be with you, wholeheartedly. And the marriage proposal, I shall accept it too.â
Pantalone
When Pantalone kidnapped you for no specific reason, days turned to weeks. You almost forgot about the existence of sunlight as he kept you there like a pretty little porcelain doll for his own amusementâor whatever his nasty reasons might have been.
The last time you tried to escape his gloomy, mysterious castle-like home, you were severely punished for your âbad behaviourâ. Blood dripped down from your chin as you were sitting on the floor of a dark hollow room, chained and bruised by his henchmen. Perhaps he considered it too tacky to touch you with his own hands.
And then he entered. You didn't even want to look at his unapproachable, icy-cold eyes, and simply turned away, your eyes shut and hidden from him.
âHow rough you lookâ, he said with his usual tone which was cold, but at the same time smooth like butter.
You were dehydrated and hungry, thatâs for sure. You wanted nothing more than a warm fuzzy blanket and sweet tea, and forget this nightmare forever.
âWhen was the last time you had a proper meal?â He asked. He knew you never ate his food because youâd consider yourself indebted to him. And you did not want to take anything from this man.
Your face went deadly pale and bewildered when Pantalone dropped on his knees before you and started freeing you from your shackles. His hands were shaking wildly, you could witness how poorly he mastered the lockers due to his stress.
Yet without a single doubt, with no longer time to lose he wrapped his arms around your waist to carry you. His clothes were a little stained with the snow, and a bit of freezing touch made you shiver.
âI will never do this to you anymore. Forgive me. Please, forgive me.â His words that used to be spoken as an order now were slipped from his lips as a request.Â
You were laid in the warmth of the sheets of your own home. The familiar surroundings brought you joy and comfort you never knew youâd forgotten so easily.
âMy butler is cooking a dinner for you in your kitchen.â
He watched the whole time you were eating, guarding you and seeing how desperately you were filling your stomach up. When you finished eating, there was one loud slapâagainst Pantaloneâs face, by your hand. In a normal situation, he would be so angry and furious that the earth would shake of his abhor. But now he was simply taking it.
"I know. I should never have treated you like this. I ignored your wishes and violated your privacy. Iâve done the worst crime to youâI took your freedomâ, he touched the red mark blooming on his cheek from your unexpected punishment. âI wanted to obtain you so much that I ended up hurting you instead.â
Ayato
He was rich to his fingertips. In his world, the only thing he could not have, but wanted to, was you. You found yourself working as his secretary, aesthetically pleasing and always efficient. But Ayato was ruthless; he could never be satisfied, he was always unhappy. The requirements to you were growing day by day, and keeping up the standards seemed an impossible task. His moods were changing like a thunderstorm.
It was a regular day when you were performing your duties that you felt someoneâs presence behind your back. Ayato was not exactly above lurking so he made his presence known after you turned to face him. He did not expect you to turn so rapidly and ended up with his breath tickling against your face.
âY/N, Iâm sorry. I have been too demanding and controlling. My actions driven by raw possessiveness inflicted undesirable effect upon youâ, Ayatoâs words died away, though the expression on his face became even more grim and grave. âYou do not deserve such treatment, any of it.âÂ
You nearly dropped your working papers as you stared at him. Was this man really sincere? How long has he been overthinking about your relationship? It took you just a few seconds to gather your composure and strike him with an indifferent glare.
âItâs always so easy and costs no trouble for you, rich people. You just take what you want without considering either the outcome or other peopleâs feelings. You see people as things, belongings in your possession, and you never have enough.â
At that, Ayato became even more tense, his expression that was mainly seen by the most of people as sweet and gentle, now was an embodiment of darkness. Nevertheless he nodded to you.
âWhat should I do for you to forgive me? Iâm not going to lie and say that I did not think about how harmful my attitude might have been to you for the past month. What think you? Do I even stand a chance?â
âFat chanceâ, you chuckled under your breath. The laugh was almost too bitter rather than sarcastic.
Ayato took your hands in his, his black gloved thumbs rubbing against your skin slightly.
âYouâre like a poison to me. A very addicting one. And the more I see you work for me, the more I want to have you by my side. Not just at a formal eventâŚâ he bit his pale pink lip for a moment. âIâm starting to feel as if Iâd like to see you out of work circumstance, and the thoughts of such impropriety are enough to drive me utterly insane.â
You reciprocated the light squeeze that came from his hands, however yours was less obsessive and more gentle.Â
âIt is a very dangerous thought, Ayato.â
âOh, I can be a very dangerous man. For you, that is.â
Capitano
You were walking in Capitanoâs garden, feeling yourself like a beautiful bird in a golden cage, but in fact you were a princess in a beastâs castle. Once you saw his real face, you kept having nightmares about his skin rotting appearance. This man was scaring you to the bone, and every time you met him, although not very often, you felt how demanding and heavy the gaze of his icy blue eyes was.
You did not see him often, but once a while Capitano requested (no, ordered!) a private dinner with you. The rooms were dimly lit, his loyal butler making preparations to the highest standards as usual, and you - wearing the most luxurious of dresses youâd only be able to peek at in the past. But your face was the odd one as it beared no smile on it. You were gravely terrified by this man who had claimed you as his. And even though you slept in separate rooms, you could not brush the feeling as if he owned you; well, he kind of did, since you dwelt in his mansion.Â
Per usual, you were having a dinner with him at about eight in the evening when Capitano finally spoke. His tone was filled with assertiveness and power, yet the way he was eating, the movements of his hands were elegant enough to remind you of an excellently-educated prince.
âY/N, I need to speak to you.â
You shivered when you heard him, and you let go of the fork. The jingling sound spread across the room which put you even in an unnecessarily bigger predicament.
âYes, sir?â
Capitano hummed - he put his utensils away and looked as if he was carefully choosing his words which was not a habit of his. This Harbinger often talked exactly what he thought and was known for his bluntness. Capitano never beat around the bush and was always straight to the point, and this was one of the personality traits of his that made you feel conflicted. It was both terrifying and worth of respect.
âI want you to stop being scared of me. I want you to see that there is more of me than a horriffic, ugly old beast.â
You gasped: did he just used those unflattering words to himself? It felt so odd and so frustrating.
âWhat feelings do you want me to harbour for you, given our unusual circumstances?â
There was a long pause before Capitano made a sip of his red wine and suggested the following:
âAffection is too much, but could you at least try to be friendly with me? Donât you seeâcanât you see how hard Iâm trying to make your life with me less unbearable?â
Affection⌠friendliness⌠is that what he really needs from you?âyou think.
âIâm a prisoner here, I cannot imagine how I am supposed to show any warm feelings towards you. It would be fake and stupid.â
âThen make them not fake and stupid.â Capitano raised from the table and stormed out of the dining room, leaving you alone in the dim light of candles.
Dottore
You woke up on the plain lab bed, still restrained but this time your pain was drastically diminished. When you opened your eyes the lights did not cut your sight right away and you realised that the room was only dimly lit. You sighed in relief - perhaps he went on a break and you had a few moments of rest from his constant analysis and experiments upon your body.
There were a few tattoos on your hands but too small to even understand their meanings. Perhaps it was something from Zandikâs past that he decided to ruthlessly carve on you.
Your happiness and sense of relief did not last long though, as the man who called himself Doctor entered the room not exactly quietly.Â
âLook whoâs alive. Iâm gladâ, he wrote something on his notes, âvery glad, even.â
âWhat are you going to do to me next? Turn me into⌠abomination?â You attempted to sound sarcastic even though all your being was screaming inside. âIâm pretty sure you have not gotten your fill yet out of me.â
Dottore abruptly stopped writing and dropped his journal on the lab desk next to you.
âI think weâre finished here.â
âWhat?â
âI said youâre free to goâ, he cut your leather restraints with one rough motion that had a vibe of uncertainty of the soul.
You looked at your hands, your body cheered welcoming freedom, but at the bottom of your heart you were perplexed.
âBut why?â
Dottore did not utter a single word more, with his face buried into his other records, he turned away from you completely ignoring your presence.
You found your clothes tidy and repaired on the chair, and put them on quickly. Upon escaping the place you saw that not a single Fatui agent was preventing you from leaving. You looked at the lab once more and a pang of strange kind of sorrow appeared in your heart. Perhaps, you should pay him a visit once youâre recovered? Or was it a bad idea?..
Alhaitham
The nerdy scholar was quite possessive and jealous. He had a very curious but rather depressive personality. You thought him a quiet man until one extraordinary and terrific experience.Â
Alhaitham locked a man in the library for the whole night after he saw him giving you too much attention and you happily reciprocating him. An innocent friendly conversation seemed a blunt flirt to him. He could not bear the thought you having affection to someone else who was not him. When he saw you first he realised that he wanted you to see only him, and give all your attention to him. He craved to see you wanting his company, clinging to him or even agreeing to date him. But since his personality was too aloof and he never ever attempted to simply ask you out, but kept staring at you from the side, stalking unnoticeably and gather all information about you, you never had a chance to learn of his true feelings. Behind his obsession there had to be something, as such strong feelings never came out of nowhere.
Upon seeing you chat with that guy Alhaitham grew so furious that he almost not giving it a thought just slammed the door with the poor guy in the library and left him there for the whole damn night. Blinded by his jealousy, he did not even consider how youâd feel about that. The next morning you were perplexed by the sudden disappearance of your classmate, and once the library opening time came, the student was finally released.
âHow could you do this to him? To anyone?â You asked Alhaitham; it did not take much time to learn whose fault was that.
âHow could I?â He asked you back, his expression grave and unmoveable as if he were not interested in a single thing in the world. âHow could you spend so much time with him? Heâs a total jerk.â
âJudging by what you did the total jerk is you! How could you simply lock the person up? Are you insane?â
Alhaithamâs patience started to grow thinner. He squeezed his hands into the fists so hard that his knuckled turned snow-white.
âAre you stupid? You really donât see how I feel about you? And you keep being so nice to everyone but me. Youâre obviously ignoring me.â
Bewildered, yet you finally understood the root of the case. You stared at him for a few seconds before checking if anyone was near to eavesdrop. Luckily, there was not a soul around so you spoke honestly:
âIf you wanted to woo me, endangering someone was not a good idea. You did something I deem unacceptable. And such unacceptable actions will only make me like you less, Alhaitham.â
Alhaitham leaned closer, his voice was a gentle whisper.
âRight? Then teach me to woo you properly. Iâll do thousands of attempts to win you over, no matter the cost.â You pressed your hands against his shoulders to prevent him from getting into closer proximity with you, and Alhaitham, although not completely willingly, but still backed off.
#genshin impact x reader#genshin yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#yandere neuvillette#yandere ayato#yandere pantalone#yandere capitano x reader#yandere dottore#yandere alhaitham#ayato x y/n#ayato x you#ayato x reader#neuvillette x y/n#neuvillette x you#pantalone x female reader#pantalone x you#pantalone x reader#pantalone x y/n#capitano x reader#capitano x y/n#capitano x you#dottore x you#alhaitham x y/n#neuvillette x female reader#neuvillette x reader#genshin x reader#anime x reader
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https://www.tumblr.com/anadiasmount/766146994146295808/could-you-write-something-about-jude-realising
I loved the only jude pov idea so could you write something about jude telling his (and/or your) parents that he wants to marry you and heâs been thinking about it for a while and that heâs convinced youâre the love of his life and he will do anything he can to prove it to you every single day
this might be a little rough but hubby jude has my heart⌠đđ
âhereâs your morning juice and vitamins, donât forget we have a dinner tonight,â you half understood jude as he spoke quickly, he was late for training like usual, but he never left without saying goodbye. whether you were awake or not, a kiss on your cheek and he was gone for the day. though today seemed different, felt different but you brushed it off.
jude was running late to his appointment, he had no training today but you didnât have to know that. he went to a small yet very popular jewelry store in downtown madrid, where he had picked out your dream engagement ring. he needed your friends help and they were more than willing to make that trip and helping out a nervous jude.
the ring was set to pick up, and he would ask for your parents blessing tonight when you visited them. you were oblivious, they were oblivious. only your friends and him knew about this. yet all he wanted was the scream that he was closer to marrying you. he had no doubt that youâd say yes. jude knew you wanted to get married, with him. you had drunkenly confessed after a night out and reminded him weeks later when you said your first âi love youâsâ.
so jude was ready. you were ready.
you had graduated and landed your dream job. he considered you as his wife already. you knew him from the back of your hand but with jude, he wouldnât fail to answer any questions related to you. whether it was from your favorite foods, to a movie, to a makeup product, to a favorite memory, he knew all of you. inside and out.
your friends had gasped and covered their mouth, eyes tearing up when jude showed them the ring. they all were in awe, jude especially since it was getting real for him. he couldnât deny that feeling in his chest, getting choked up with his own emotions, knowing you were his forever home. the only home he wanted to be in, in this life and the other. âitâs absolutely gorgeous jude!â one of you friends reclaimed.
âour y/n is going to love it!â replied your other friend to while jude let out a breath of fresh air. âwhen do you plan to pop the question?â they asked, âafter international break, we have a couple days together and i want to take her on a small getaway. but i want to get her parents blessings first, which weâre doing today because weâre going over,â jude nodded, hearing them let out a small squeal of excitement.
âlook momâŚâ jude whispered, his dad sitting down next to her as jude pulled out the red velvet box from his back pocket. âis this what i think it is?â she gushed, opening the box gently, her hand resting against her chest as she admired the ring. âhaving this around me is so tempting you donât understand. all i want is to ask her to marry me,â jude smiled, immediately thinking of you.
âi donât even have to ask if youâre sure, your eyes and smile say it all,â his dad said making jude look at them. âweâre happy for you both. thereâs no doubt in my mind that the two of you are made for each other. while marriage can be hard, itâs also the most beautiful thing thatâs ever been created. sheâs your soulmate, protect that forever,â his dad continued, standing up to give jude a hug. where he couldnât contain his emotions.
âthank you guys for everythingâŚâ
on the way back, jude had picked up a few groceries and snacks for you. along with his bouquet of flowers since it was time to get a refresh. making sure to stock up on waters and different beverages as well.
after a while jude had returned back to your house, immediately looking to see where you were. ây/n? darling?â he asked, âin here! iâm in the study!â you yelled, meeting jude by the doorway where he engulfed you into his arms. âgod i missed you so so much,â he murmured, smelling the sweet scent of your hair. you tippy toed and pressed a small kiss on his lips.
jude laughed at the small state you were in, hair in rollers, and he was guessing setting powder beneath your eyes and nose. âiâm almost done getting ready, i just had to quickly take a call because they needed me to give authorization for something. do you know what youâll wear?��� you say as you walked into the kitchen and drank water.
âyes i doâŚâ jude couldnât stop staring at you, that look he gave you full of love and respect. âi know i look funny but itâs just the powder,â you laughed, âstop! why are you looking at me like that!â you exclaimed walking over to where he sat. âbecause i love you, but you do look a little goofy with this on,â he joked feeling the playful slap on his shoulder. âgo get ready! now before we catch traffic!â you said seriously while jude just nodded.
while jude anticipated to be nervous, he wasnât. the sense of comfort yet worth filling his head. this was a huge deal, asking your parents for their blessing. but jude could radiate the answer from a mile away. the love you had together was so traditional and old school, the two of you loved that. it didnât exist much these days, but the love you and jude had made everyone around you feel alive and happy.
as the night filled with laughs and talks of the past, you had taken over and helped your sister in law with the babies. jude knew this was his chance so he booked it, watching as you disappeared and went upstairs. âcould i talk to you both?â he whispered seeing how their faces pulled into confusion but followed him either way. the three of them sat in the living room, jude pulling the ring back out from his back pocket.
âiâve never in my life been so tempted to risk it all for a person. y/n is my person. my happiness. my home. my all in this world. i never knew if iâd find that. but with y/n it was a quick and undeniable feeling. i feel like iâve known her my whole life. she knows me more than i know myself, and i knew sheâs the one for me since sheâs stood and sacrificed for our loveâŚâ jude said, your mother letting out a few tears as she looked at the ring.
âit would be an honor if i could have your blessing to marry your daughter. i promise you now i will take care of her forever. not just for marriage, but itâs because im giving you my word. because i love her with my entire heartâŚâ jude asked shakily, knowing how much this meant to you and him. knowing this is just a step closer to finally having your happy ever after.
âyou have my blessing jude,â your dad said, standing up and hugging him deeply, knowing thereâs no hesitation because jude has never given them the reason. that he knows jude isnât lying and will stick to his word. âyes you can marry my little girl,â your mother gushed going to jude and hugging him tighter, the two men laughing. âyou did an amazing selection with the ring⌠she will love it,â she said.
âiâm willing to prove whatever it takes to show her how much i love herâŚâ jude sealed. âwhat are you all doing without me,â you came back with a huge smile, joining your parents and boyfriend.
âi want in on whatever it isâŚâ
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"to be loved is to be remembered" - a mini series by @cosmicalily. view series masterlist, and outline here
procedural memory | kim seungmin x fem!reader
procedural memory: a type of implicit memory that is categorised as the unconscious guide to the processes and tasks performed on a daily basis.
author's note: this might be one of my favourite seungmin fics i've ever written. and maybe i'm biased because he is my bias and i love strawberry matcha, but i think sometimes it's okay to be self indulgent. enjoy!
There were many things that Seungmin would do without realising, as if he was on autopilot. Actions that were ingrained into his daily routine, little activities that made up his day without his awareness. The way he made his bed, the double knot he always tied on his shoelaces, the route he took to the coffee shop where he worked. He loved his routine; he loved simplicity and consistency.
At work, he thought even less about his actions. He was a quick learner, and had mastered the art of perfect coffee early on. He heard the words âlatteâ or âflat whiteâ and somehow the completed drink would appear in front of him thirty seconds later.
âDo you do iced strawberry matchas?â a voice asked, snapping Seungmin out of his coffee-scented daze. He looked at the shot heâd started running for a flat white and then at you, cheeks pink from the cold and eyes sparkling. A soft blue scarf was wrapped around your neck, covering your chin, and you wore a cosy navy cable knit sweater, just a little too big at the sleeves.
Seungmin thought intently. âWe donât,â he said truthfully, drumming his fingers on the benchtop. âBut give me a second. Iâll try and make something for you.â
You beamed in excitement. âThank you!â
âItâs no problem,â Seungmin gave a half smile back, digging around for the matcha powder. âAlthough, I have to say, who orders an iced drink in the middle of winter?â
Your cheeks flushed a little pinker and you rolled your eyes. âShut up, itâs business for you, isnât it? And Iâll tip, obviously, because itâs a custom order. They just donât taste as good warm. I tried it once, and it was awful.â
âWas it?â Seungmin paused, tipping the ice cubes from your cup back into the tray and placing it into the freezer. âIâm going to try and change your mind. Out of confidence as a good barista, but also out of concern for your health, because youâre literally going to freeze as soon as you step outside with ice in your system.â
âAnd if I donât like it?â
âItâs on the house.â
âDeal,â you agreed, leaning against the counter and watching as he poured the frothed strawberry milk, creating a little bear design. He leaned to grab a lid, but you knocked his hand away. âItâll cover the art you did,â you protested, and he shook his head in amusement.
You breathed in the soft, sweet scent and took a sip, thinking hard. Seungmin watched intently, his attention distracted from the three coffee orders he had lined up to complete next. You smiled, and his face softened. âGood?â he asked.
âItâs shit,â you deadpanned, then burst out laughing. âItâs amazing! How much do I owe you for it?â
âNothing,â Seungmin replied, eyes shining.
You opened your mouth to protest, but he gave you a warning look. âDo you do this often, then?â you asked, taking another long sip of your drink.
âWhat do you mean?â
âSave girls with silly drink orders from hypothermia.â
âSure, itâs my favourite pastime,â Seungmin replied seriously, though his eyes twinkled mischievously. âNo, not ever before. Youâre the first, Strawberry.â
Your smile widened at the nickname. âEven if youâre lying, I feel special. Thank youâŚâ you paused.
âSeungmin,â he finished, handing over a latte to a man behind you.
âThank you, Seungmin. Iâll be back, I promise!â
He nodded. âI know you will. See you around, Miss Matcha.â
You snorted and walked towards the door, spinning around and blowing him a quick kiss. He winked and you burst into a fit of laughter, and once you were properly out of sight, he let a full smile creep across his face.
By your third visit to the coffee shop, he didnât even need a prompt to make your order. By the fifth, your drink would be sitting, ready for you, extra hot. Even though you no longer had a reason to wait, you always stayed to talk to him, and he was thankful you did.
Soon, Seungmin became unconsciously aware of your routine, of your timing, of your daily scarf rotation. Once winter ended, he caved and made you your first iced strawberry matcha, which you declared better than any other iced drink youâd ever consumed. He still refused to let you pay, but he was always accepting of your newfound habit of leaning across the counter and giving him a quick kiss before you left for the morning. Initially on the cheek, but by mid spring, on the lips. Your kisses tasted of your mauve lipstick, cinnamon, and of course, strawberry matcha.
After a year of dating, you moved into his apartment. Seungmin, a lover of routine and consistency, found himself mesmerised by your sporadic actions and in the moment decisions. It didnât frustrate him, the way he worried it would. Your presence was a constant, something dependable that he centred his new, irregular routine around, filled with evening walks and beach day trips. He learnt your habits, and soon, your actions were as familiar to him as his own. He would still make his bed in the morning, and you'd help him, finishing the job off with the two jellycat puppies you'd bought for your six month anniversary. He would tie a double knot in his shoelaces, and wait for you to slip on your ballet flats. Whilst you always had your signature drink at his shop, he knew you loved chamomile before bed, and there was always a mug of it by your bedside after you'd gotten out of the shower.
And of course, you did the same for him, but in your own way. You'd lay on top of him, playing with his hair for hours, explaining every single thing you adored about him. You cooked him dinner, and you'd sit on the counter beside him as he did the dishes. It was routine. You were each other's routines.
He kept working at the coffee shop, but now as a manager, although he always insisted on making your drink himself, and you would visit him, sometimes bringing your laptop and glasses with you to set up in a corner and work, other times bringing whatever book you were currently engrossed in.
âHi baby,â you smiled up at him, stretching your arms and dog-earing your page.
âYou know I hate when you do that,â he groaned, sitting beside you on the bench. Nevertheless, he pressed a kiss against your cheek and you giggled.
âI know, but like, it shows the love I have for my books. The ones that have crumpled pages and tea stains and frayed edges are the ones I read the most.â
Seungmin shook his head. âIâm just teasing. I love you and your broken books.â
âThey arenât broken-â you protested, but he cupped your face in his hands and silenced you with a soft kiss.
âI love you,â he repeated, eyes glossed over.
âI love you too,â you gazed back at him. Your book fell off your lap, but you didnât move to grab it. The strawberry matcha Seungmin had brought over was probably cooling, but you didnât care. It was moments like this where everything felt like muscle memory, where nothing felt new or uncomfortable. He was familiar.
He grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers in his. You gently stroked his thumb, then whined when he let go of your hand to reach in his pocket. âWhat are you doing?â you asked, then you paused.
Heâd slotted a ring on your finger.
âYou can say no,â he said, looking you directly in the eye. "You can take it off. But it feels right for me. I saw it in the window the other day and I didnât even think, I just bought it. Which is crazy, because you know I overthink and overplan everything.â
âI know, youâre a dork,â you smiled, but your eyes were glassy. âWhy the fuck would I say no? Of course Iâll marry you.â
Seungmin breathed out and pulled you in a tight embrace. He felt warm, he smelled like coffee, and the skin of his neck was soft against your cheek. âIâm glad, because Iâve never been so sure of anything in my life.â
âIâm only doing it for the strawberry matcha, of course,â you quipped, chuckling.
âIâm only doing it out of pity,â he added.
âDickhead.â
âAsshole.â
You leaned against him, his arms around your waist. He kissed your cheek, your forehead, your shoulder, and you rubbed his back. A buzz went off in his back pocket, a reminder that his break was over.
âSo,â he broke the hug, rubbing the back of his neck. âYour drinkâs probably cold. So I guess, as a good barista, I probably have to make you a new one.â
âIâm gonna make out with you for hours tonight, Kim Seungmin,â you declared. âYouâre my dream boy.â You blew him a kiss as he stood up, taking your drink with him, and he winked in return.
You watched his reflection on the steel coffee machine, and saw him smile.
#stray kids#kpop#skz#stray kids x reader#skz fic#stray kids fic#stray kids fluff#seungmin x reader#seungmin stan#seungmin#seungmin fic#seungmin fluff#kim seungmin#kim seungmin x reader#kim seungmin skz#seungmin skz#seungmin stray kids#stray kids seungmin#stray kids scenarios#bangchan#minho#changbin#hyunjin#han jisung#lee felix#jeongin#seungmin fluff fic#seungmin x reader fic#seungmin x you
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âYou didnât have to do that, you know.â
His voice lingers in the air like a sweet scent of honey, and pulls her to a halt just before she reaches the stairs leading up to the dormitories.Â
Ginny turns, drawn by the ever-familiar sound that still makes her heart sing despite herself, and finds Harry slumped in a solitary chair at the far end of the common room. His head rests in his hands, his shoulders seem stiff under the weight of his own exhaustion. And yet, his voice is soft - so soft that she wonders if sheâs imagined it. Itâs only when she notices his gaze fixed upon her that she has the confirmation that it was not just a trick of her mind.
The quiet in the room is mitigated by the gentle crackle of the fire, its warm glow flickering across the walls, and by the occasional whispers of a few lingering Gryffindors, not yet ready for sleep.
She smiles gingerly and draws closer to where Harry is sitting, the air around them feeling somehow thicker and thicker at every step she takes towards him. She is sure, quite sure, to notice his posture relax, his muscles loosen, and for a fleeting, desperately terrifying moment, she just knows â he feels it, too.Â
She stops right in front of him, her knees slightly brushing his, and she realises sheâs been holding her breath.
âDo what?â
She knows what, of course, but her throat has suddenly gone dry under the weight of his unwavering gaze, never once leaving her.
He smiles tentatively, and it still feels unreal that she can make him do that, that she can be the reason for it.
âWell.â He shrugs. âTelling people off on my behalf.â
She hums, then winks at him. âYou looked like you needed saving, and I do have a debt to settle.â
He snorts, the glimpse of a short-lived moment of lightheartedness brightening his eyes, then quickly shakes his head, coming back to reality.
âEveryone is right to be disappointed, especially youâ, he says, then pauses, staring at her intently, struggling to find the right words. âBecause I-â.
What he did remains hanging in the air, his voice breaking right in the middle of it. She tries to contain the urge to sit on the armrest of his chair and to throw her hands around his neck, holding him tight, telling him itâs OK, heâs OK, and theyâll be just fine.Â
Instead, she looks at him, faking a shrug to dissimulate a shiver.
âYou took orders from something someone wrote in a book.â
Thereâs another pause, a beat, and the air around them suddenly feels unbreathable.
âYeah.â His eyes flash before her, and she feels them burning on her skin, like the scariest and yet most beautiful thing sheâs ever seen. âIâm very sorry, Ginny.â
How do you tell someone, you know, I think Iâm in love with you. I think Iâve been for the longest of times and damn you, damn you, for looking at me like that right now. Just when I had almost moved on, just when I had almost let you go. Damn you for having those eyes, that face, those hands. Iâve spent so many sleepless nights over the years, but your smile is the most beautiful sunrise Iâve ever seen. I want to spend my days telling you about it, laughing with you, crying with you. I want to kiss that sad frown away from your face and make all this disappear. I want to take your pain away, I want to make you smile like you do until the air in my lungs runs out. I want the good, I want the bad, I want it fucking all.
Iâm so screwed, she concludes. She gives in, stops resisting. Iâm so fucking screwed.
#this has been sitting in my drafts for too long#so just heck with it#corny and cheesy and fluffly#pining idiots#and i love it#hinny#harry x ginny#missing moment#half blood prince
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A muted shade of green ⧠Chapter 7: The end of beginnings
genre: angst, fluff, a lot of introspection
word count: 9743 (MY GOD IT'S A LONGER CHAPTER)
pairing: reader x spencer reid
description: you and spencer finally give into the tension that's been growing between you, but what happens now?
a muted shade of green masterlist
previous chapter // next chapter
This chapter I'm dedicating to @chicaconfundidaycuriosa who makes my day with her hypothesis in the comments <3 thank you all for your support throughout this series!
âYou do it.âÂ
âNo!â You gasp, shaking your head so fast you feel like your brain is shaking too. âYou do it!âÂ
âYour entire job is about people, you do it.â He insists, gently nudging you forward, but you donât bulge. âY/N, come on, itâs not that scary!â
âIâm not scared, I just hate talking on the phone! You wouldnât know whatâs that like, since you barely use yours.âÂ
âAnd now youâre diverging,â He giggles, pushing the phone over the counter to you once again.Â
It has been almost thirty minutes of this and that is not really how you imagine spending your morning after all that had happened last night. For a moment there, Spencerâs voice fades to the background and all you can focus on are those beautiful, pink lips. Now that you know how they feelâ the perfect balance of chapped roughness and natural softness; not now that you know how he tastes, something so naturally Spencer and minty toothpaste; not now that you know how he sounds when he whispers for more, more more. Not now, not ever.
Took you both some time to come down from the absolute high of acting like teenagers. What had started like a sweet, slow kiss, quickly turned into what teenagers would refer to âmaking outâ, and suddenly you two were a little hurricane of hands, lips, and tangles bodies trying to make it to the room. The feeling of his hands on your waist, tugging you closer, pushing you downâ âY/N?â
Your cheeks explode in a fiery red shade when you realise heâs caught you daydreaming.Â
Again.Â
âYeah?â Shaking your head slightly, look down at the phone being pushed between you two.Â
âAre you going to call her?âÂ
To be fair, you havenât really explained everything to him considering how⌠distracted⌠you were last night. And then this morning. And even now, mind going not so far away from the kitchen to the room, where absolutely nothing had happened last night. Absolutely. Nothing. Frustration settled after a while, a thrumming hum in the back of your head that never really let you fall asleep. It was only natural that after so long craving this, you had been excited at the thought of finally letting it happen, of allowing yourself to enjoy a moment that had meant as much in your dreams as it did in real life⌠but then you two made it to the bed. And you laid down. And suddenly, the underlying need behind every push and pull of his perfect lips against yours started to fade, and his hands that explored your body oh so eagerly started to slow down, and before you could say anything, he was backtracking to forehead kisses and getting up to brush his teeth.Â
Like it had been just another day.Â
Just another kiss.Â
âI donât want to,â You whisper back, eyes wide in a vulnerable state that has nothing to do with Abigail or the fact that you are about to hire her to take care of your store.Â
This is not even about last night.
This is about this morning.Â
This is about the fact that when you woke up, he wasnât there. His side of the bed was tussled, and the pillows were thrown around, but Spencer was missing. For a moment, your heart sinks. You scramble around the bed, feeling out his side, searching for something, anything, that would give into your dwindling hope of last night not having been a dream, because god knows how many dreams youâve had of him. But then you hear it, the sound of the shower running and the light humming of a man who has not a single musical bone in his body, and you let out a breath you didnât even know you were holding.Â
Then it downs on you. It wasnât a dream. Spencer kissed you last night, thatâs a fact. And now heâs about to come out of the bathroom and you refuse to let the first thing he sees, on such a special morning, be this messy hair, panicked face version of yourself. The way you roll out of bed, rushed to the point of tripping on the blankets and falling on your knees with a hiss, is enough to have you laughing at yourself. Your cheeks blush when you think of facing him so early in the day and despite the excitement of it all, you are nervous. What will he say? What will he do?
Making breakfast seems like a great way to ease your overthinking mind of any incoming anxieties, and itâs a simple matter of action and reaction.Â
Action, breaking the eggs over the hot pan. Reaction, frying some eggs. Action, putting the bread in the toaster. Reaction, getting some toast to eat with your eggs. Actionâ
âGood morning.â Action, Spencer comes out of the shower.
âGood morning,â You call back, looking down at the pan with such an obsessions you barely notice him stopping behind you.Â
You do notice his hands landing on your waist, though, and when he turns you around, you can smell the fresh scent of his minty soap he loves so much. His smile calms you a little, and he leans forward, coming down, down, down⌠until his lips touch your forehead. âSlept well?â He mumbles, reaching behind you for a toast and then walking away to grab his bag from wherever he hid it. Blinking, you canât even answer his question. Is he fucking teasing you or is he serious?Â
Safe to say, you donât really speak up then nor later, and thatâs how you two end up where you are, sitting in front of each other in a stupid battle over who calls who.Â
âWhy donât you want to call her?â
Eyes cast down, almost in shame, you shrug. âIâŚâ How do you explain it to him without sounding crazy? âI donât know, Spence. She makes me feel⌠weird. Like she knows something I donât.âÂ
âOh sweetheart,â His nice words canât hide the smile on his face. âItâs just change. And youâre human, Y/N, which means you naturally donât like change. But itâs okay, I promise. You already asked Garcia to dig as deep as she could and nothing came up as suspicious. You also refuse to entertain the idea of hiring your second choice because you said, and I quote, âhe grabbed a book with greasy hands.â So, this is pretty much the only option you have.âÂ
Great. Instead of a kiss that you crave, you get the dose of reality check you deserve. âThank you, Spencer,â You grumble, the irony of your words not missing the spot when his smile falters. You grab the phone to dealing the number youâve been avoiding for so long, but you stop before pressing call. âFuck.âÂ
âY/Nââ The magic of last night is gone when his phone rings and you know he has to go.Â
âGo,â You whisper, patting his shoulder with dejection. At this point, the morning is ruined and, to be very honest, he is partially at fault.Â
A kiss is not something you would consider casual. You know a lot of people do, and thatâs okay; you donât mind about how other people live their lives. You do, however, care about what Spencer thinks and does, and in your books, kissing you and then ignoring it the next day is simply not acceptable. But then you sit with it for a while, and your brain starts whirring up. Usually, when you open your eyes, the sun is barely up and Spencerâs breathing is regular enough to keep your head going up and down, up and down, up and down. The more you two cuddle, the more you realise you love the sound of his heartbeatâ you were yet to see him hurt, but youâve heard enough stories from past cases that now, whenever you got that little extra confirmation that he is okay, you feel a sense of relief that you canât really explain. Yet, that morning, when you finally make sense of what the fuck was happening without the your usual warm body next to you, you donât feel relief. You donât feel anything, to be very honest, because for a moment, your blood turns cold at the idea that Spencer might have woken up and regretted it all.Â
âI feel like I shouldnât,â He frown, cocking his head to the side in that way that makes you think heâs about to tell you something about yourself that youâve never asked. âY/Nââ âGo to work, Spencer,â You repeat yourself before pressing âcallâ. The phone in your ear is enough to keep him from trying to chase you. âAbigail? Hi! This is Y/N, from the bookstore⌠Yes. Yes, and from the uh, from the building. Iâm calling with good newsâ you seem like the perfect person for the position. Youâ oh, no, no, itâs okay, you donât have to bring me anything, itâs fine!â
This is the last thing you needâ Abigail and her nosy nature. âWhatâs going on?â Spencer I next to you and his mouth is so close to your ear you shiver a little when he speaks.Â
âAbigail, please, Iâm about to go out andâ oh, no, my⌠Spence is going to work. Thank you for offering to bake a cake but Iâll just se you at work, okay? Alright. Yeah, okay, thank you! Iâll be sending you a follow up email with all the information for next steps. Thank you! Have a good day! Bye!â
âY/N, did Abigail do something to make you uncomfortable?â His hands on your shoulder that hold you at arms length are starting to annoy you. Now he didnât even want you close? There is more to it and you know it. Above all, youâre not completely illogical, but your brain is working overtime and your heart is hurting, and now every little thing Spencer does will be an issue.Â
Fed up with it all, you stomp your feet and walk away. âGo to work, Doctor Reid!â The impetuous way you huff as you turn around and slam the door of his room shut has him gasping, and you can hear if from where you stand, embarrassed by yourself and your ridiculous, childish behaviour. Still, you refuse to go back out there until youâre sure youâve heard the door closing behind him.Â
âFuck me,â You mutter after you sit there in your own silence. The apartment doesnât feel the same as it used to anymore. Itâs not a matter of coming in and watering his plants anymore. You donât just walk around looking for clues from the scattered books in his apartment anymore. You actually know things now. You know parts of his life that he had to tell you, parts that you didnât have to guess, and it actually felt goodâ he was opening up out of his own volition and now youâve ruined everything. Maybe you got greedy. Maybe you got greedy for his welcoming arms and whispered pet names. Maybe it all felt too good, and, just like Icarus, you might have flown too close to the sun, and now you are falling, wings melted and ruined.Â
Before you know it, youâre already dialling your momâs number.Â
âMom?â You are sitting on the floor, legs pulled to your chest with a ridiculous pout on your lips, and from the way she laughs on the other side of the line, you think she can hear it.Â
âWell, look who it is,â She teases. Itâs easy to picture her face when she says that. You two have made a dance out of it, this whole loving sarcasm thing, and she always go first. Naturally, you just follow her lead. âMy daughter who forgot I exist.â
âAw,â You smile, shaking your head in amusement. âIs this my mother? The one who knows how pick up the phone and dial my number if she wants to talk to me?â
You two laugh for a while before she speaks again. âIâm serious, sweetheart, Iâve missed you. I havenât seen your face in a while and⌠and your dad misses you too, you know?â The slight sniffle on the other side of the line breaks your heart a little.Â
âI miss him too,â You whisper, voice a bit too soft for her not to notice.Â
âY/N, is something wrong? Did something happen?â Itâs no surprise your mom panics quickly when it comes to you, specially after everything that happened in New York. âIs it Josh? Did he find you?âÂ
God, how it hurts that she even has to worry about that. âNo, no, itâs not Josh, itâsâŚâ You are yet to tell her about Spencer. And not in the context of this entire situation with Cat, but about Spencer as the wonderful human he is. About his quirks and his love for books and his chess addiction and⌠and the fact that he has your heart in the palm of his hands and youâre scared. Youâre so scared. âI met someone.âÂ
Her gasp has your eyes shuttingâ itâs so nostalgic, that noise of motherly surprise, that you canât help but bask in it. Growing up, you had always been very close to your mother, enjoying days out together on Sundays and always trusting her to keep your secrets safe from the world. She was your biggest fan, too; supported you on everything you did, cheered from you from the sidelines of every game you wanted to try, helped you convince your dad to let you go to parties you never enjoyed. Never had she unfairly punished you, never had she betrayed your trust, never had she treated you with anything but love and pride. Hiding things from her is hard, possibly one of the hardest things you have ever done, and you hate how easy itâs becoming to deflect her questions and ignore her comments, because truly, all you want to do on days like this, where your heart hurts and your spirits dwindle, is to go to her and cry. Is that too much to ask?Â
âTell me about this person,â She immediately shuffles around and you picture her in the same living room youâve grown up reading book after book. If you have to guess, she has her usual coffee mug next to her, an addiction you blame her for passing onto you, and sheâll throw the old knitted blanket sheâs so proud of making over her legs.
âWell, his name is Spencerââ
âSpencer is a good name!â She whispers to herself and you smile.Â
âIt is,â You agree, stretching your legs in front of you and wiggling your toes, glad to be distracted by anything and everything that gets your mind off of last night. âHe is a good guy. My favourite customer, actually. Thatâs uh, thatâs how we met.âÂ
âAt the store? That is adorable!âÂ
âYeah, he reads⌠a lot,â That is the understatement of the century. âHe was my first client when I opened up, and we kind of became friends and gotten closer. Then I kind of, uh, started apartment sitting for him, whenever he was away at work and we justââ
âOh, whatâs the apartment like?âÂ
âItâs⌠beautiful,â You mumble, looking around with a small smile playing on your lips. âThe walls are this pretty shade of green and itâs really cozy? Books all around. I like it here.âÂ
âHere?â Oh no. âWait, are you at his house right now?âÂ
âYeah,â You mumble, picking the lose threads on the socks you borrowed, one blue and the other purple with polkadots. For the life of you, you couldnât find matching pairs in his sock drawer. âIâve been here a lot, lately.âÂ
âIs he out of town?âÂ
âNo.â The silence that follows speaks volume, and for the first time ever, you realise that your mom might not be just worried. She scared, too; for the daughter she saw so happy one day and then moving cities the next. âMom?âÂ
âIâ Iâm happy for you, sweetie,â Her words are kind, but the edge of hesitation is there. âAnd youâre not going too fast, right? You said youâve known him since you opened the store, so thatâs a year and something, andââ
The assumption that you are repeating the same mistake youâve make with Josh annoys you. Youâre not the same person you used to be, youâre not like that anymoreâ needy and blinded by love and all the shinny things it brought you. Youâve come a long way since then, and you know your mother recognises that, you do but⌠but youâre still embarrassed. Embarrassed about who you were. About who you loved. Itâs a bit ridiculous, how whenever one of your parents bring him up, you immediately raise your defences, walls coming up so high you canât even see over the green field of life that awaits you on the other side.Â
âMom,â You wince when your voice comes out a bit too harsh. âSorry. Mom, Iâm fine. Weâre⌠nothing. Iâm here because⌠because a pipe burst in my apartment and he was kind enough to let me stay at his place.âÂ
âOh! Oh, Iâm sorry sweetie, I didnât mean toâ I mean, Iâm glad you have someone to help you out when weâre so far away.â
âI wish you guys were here,â You whisper, slowly getting up to move to the living room. You immediately sit down in the armchair, grabbing your blanket and covering yourself. If you couldnât hug your mom, this would have to do. âYouâd love him.âÂ
âYeah? Is he handsome?â
âSo handsome,â You giggle, and itâs an instinct, looking to the side table in search of that familiar frame of Spence and his team at a fancy dinner. You love his smile when heâs happy, so wide and taut that it almost looks like he has too much emotion in proportion to his body. âAnd heâs so kind, mom. Heâs kind, and gentle, and oh so smart. A genius, really.â
âOf course he has to be a genius to keep up with you and the hundreds of books you read in a year,â Her reply is comical when you think about it. The idea of Spencer having trouble keeping up with you, and not the other way around, makes you laugh. âSo why do you sound so sad, if heâs such a great guy? Heâs treating you good, right?â
âHe treats me amazingly, itâs just that⌠we kissed last night.âÂ
âAnd it was bad?â Her teasing makes your shoulder relax enough until you are melting onto the chair. âThatâs why youâre sad?â
âMom! No!â Cringing, you hug the throw pillow closer. âIt was great. Amazing, even! Itâs just that it was our first kiss and then this morning he just⌠didnât do it again.âÂ
âOooohhh, I see whatâs going on,â She chuckles. âYou expected him to talk about this and he didnât, did he?â
âHow do you know?âÂ
âBecause you dad was the same wayââ
âOh gross, no, no, no!â You refuse to fall onto this freudian trap. âIâm not dating my dad!âÂ
âWait, so you guys are dating? Is this you telling me you have a boyfriend?!â
âNo!â Groaning, you know youâre between a rock and a hard place. There is no escape anymore, and you have to come clean. âI donât know! We kissed, but then he didnât talk about it this morning and he just left like nothing happened, and andâ and yesterday, he didnât even say he likes me! Iâm too old to be on this whole will-they-wonât-they thing, mom! I need verbal confirmation!âÂ
âWell, have you asked him? Or told him how you feel? Or tried to start a conversation?âÂ
Squinting at the phone, you huff, incredulous at her insinuation. Her correct insinuation. âMother! Whose side are you on?â
âAlways yours,â Your mother laughs. âWhich is why Iâm saying talk to him. If he wonât start the conversation, do it yourself. I raised an independent young woman, and this is the perfect time to prove it.âÂ
You wait a second before sighing. âIâm scared.â
âOf what, sweetie?âÂ
âOf everything. Of what happened before. Of it happening again.â
âY/N,â Your mother say and suddenly you think youâre about to get scolded through the phone. âYou canât be afraid of your future because of one mistake you made in the past, sweetheart. Iâ Iâm sorry we didnât notice. Iâm your mother, I shouldâve noticed, I shouldâve said something, and Iâm never going to make that mistake ever again. So Iâm saying something now. You havenât sounded this excited about pretty much anything in a while. You⌠You sound like how you used to be. But better.âÂ
âMom,â There is no one to witness the way your lower lip trembles at her words. Back then, you thought you were doing a good job keeping your parents safe from it allâ you thought you were good at hiding the tiredness with makeup and the miserable tone of your voice with sweet high pitched laughter. None of your parents ever talked about what was happening, either. They didnât ask questions like how your mom does now; they didnât see past the beautiful necklaces, the pretty dresses, and the important parties. They were blinded, much like you were, with the fake promises of a happiness that never came. And now here you are, scared out of your mind to jump into this again, and yet, everything fades away when your mom guarantees you sheâll never let this happen again. As grown as you are, nothing reassures you more than your momâ your biggest fan and your biggest protector.Â
âIâm scared too,â She whispers, like sheâs telling you her biggest secret. âIâm scared my baby will hurt again and I wonât be there to help. Iâm scared Iâll never be able to visit. Iâm scared about a lot of things when it comes to you, sweetie. But I prefer to focus on the silver linings.â
Ah. So thatâs where you get if from. âAnd what are the silver linings here?âÂ
âYou being you,â Itâs as simple as that for her. âAnd thatâs all I really want.âÂ
For about an hour, you two stay on the phone, chitchatting about the randomise things. Itâs no secret that you miss New Yorkâ the bustle of people, the endless lights, the pollution and its grey hue in the air. God, you miss it a lot, but what you miss the most is the ease of everything. Moving around is quick, whatever you need you just need to turn the corner and a deli will surely have it, and, above all, whenever you want to see your mom and dad, all you have to do is take the express from the Upper east side down to Midtown and youâre there. Youâre at the same small apartment you grew up in, the same brick walls, the same loud neighbours, hell, even your room still looked the same as you left it! But thatâs not what you need right now, even though you would love to see your old room with such new eyes⌠what you need is that feeling of warmth spreading through your chest when it dawns on you that you are home.
âMom, I have to go,â You finally say. âBut letâs talk more often, okay? I miss you and dad a lot.âÂ
âWe miss you too, sweetie. I love you.âÂ
âLove you too,â Hanging up the phone is harder than you expected it to be, but you donât have a lot of time to suffer in silence.Â
Spencer is a man who naturally avoids all forms of technology. He is not the biggest fan of computers and cellphones, and whenever he texts you or calls you, you feel like youâre winning in life. Youâre the exception to his firm, firm rule. But for work purposes, he had explained, he had to be reachable at all hours, meaning Spencer has something you havenât see in agesâ a landline phone. When it starts ringing, that nostalgic loud, shriek of a ring that never fails to make you feel like youâre about to have a heart attack.Â
Instinctually, you reach for it as if you are the one expecting a call. It would be so easy to just pick up the phone and say Dr. Reidâs residence, how may I help you? Yet, you donât. You stop yourself just as the tips of your fingers touch the phone and you pull back. This is exactly what happened last timeâ a box for him and the consequences ending up being yours to face. Since then, youâd like to think youâve grown smarter, and so you let it go to voicemail.Â
âHello, Dr. Reid, this is Nurse Kenny from Bennington Sanitarium. Iâm calling about your mother.âÂ
Somehow, this still feels like facing the consequences for something you didnât do.Â
âââââââââââââ
 In your defence, you did try calling Penelope before panicking. You called her, you called Spencer, you even called the BAU hotline in a feverish desperation to reach your boy wonder. All the hurt from that morning, all the pain and the insecurities immediately fly out the window as soon as the nurse hangs up with a final call me when you can.Â
âFucking hell,â You push your way through the crowd trying to make out of the subway station, everyone rushing through the steps to finally be set free in the loud streets of Washington, and if it was any other day, you might have taken the time to enjoy it. The sun is high, the air is cold, and the smell of coffee reaches you almost instantly.Â
But there is not time to be happy when all you can think about is Spencerâ his face crumpling up in that way it does whenever it goes uncharacteristically serious, his brows furrowed in worry, his hands frozen in place like the rest of his body. It kills you being the deliverer of bad news. Itâs something you have always tried to avoid, ever since you were a tiny little girl and you had to tell your friends that no, you didnât like My Little Ponies and then later on that also no, you didnât want to go to that party. The disappointment in their faces always makes you crumble, give in, give up, anything to see them smile again.Â
This time around, you canât do that. You canât give up, or tell him something he wants to listen to instead. This has to do with his family, and you donât know anything about his familyâ so you know they mean a lot to him. Oddly enough, itâs one of his little weird habits that you find the most endearing; for someone that talks a lot, when it comes to the people he loves, Spencer doesnât talk at all. Maybe this is the price to pay to work at the BAU⌠when the most despicable and inhumane people in the world know his name, he has to do everything in his power to not let them find out any other.Â
âMaâam, where do you think you are going?!â The security guard approaching you is, to say the least, terrifying. You forget that you have to sign up, so uses to walking in with Officer Kaper and his badge, except this time around, you didnât have time to call him. You did everything Spencer told you not to do, and he will lecture you on it later, you just know he will, though you donât really care about it, as long as he talks to you after this, you donât care about what words come out of his mouth.Â
Because sure, it was an accidentâ listening to the nurseâs message was an accidentâ but you still did it. There is no hiding it, you did it and my god, you feel terrible about it. Feels like something akin to looking through his phone while he is in the shower, close to searching through his letters at home, similar to reading through the annotations in his books. This is private. It wasnât enough to be living at his apartment? Sleeping in his bed, stealing his clothes? You also had to go ahead and listen to his private messages? âIâm here to see Dr. Spencer Reid,â You say, lower lip trembling at the thought of a possible confrontation with this man. âIâm sorry, Iâm so sorry, but itâs urgent, I need to see him, I need to talk to Spence, heâs not picking up his phone andââ
âDo you have a form of identification? You have to sign in,â When he takes a step closer, you immediately shrink back, shoulders hunching forward in a tense attempt to cover yourself from his eyes.Â
âOf course, yes, Iâll⌠sign in, but can youâ Iâm so sorry, but can you call Penelope Garcia? She is the BAUâs tech analyst, I think. She has a lot of computers andââ
âGet in line.âÂ
Itâs an order more than a request, and you consider telling him to fuck off. Your nerves are high and you feel a sense of urgency that you have only felt one time before in your entire lifeâ and that was when you moved to D.C. The thing no one tells you about signing in into the FBI is that is practically impossible. People like to think that all you need is a government issued ID, and technically, they are rightâ there is nothing else you can provide them other than you driverâs license, but the hoops they have to go through to grant you access add another ten minutes or so onto the wait that is already killing you.Â
Until the clerk says, âHere you go, maâam,â And gives you your visitorâs pass like itâs nothing.Â
Like it doesnât hold the weight of the world for you then, as you shove it into that stupid guardâs face and runs to the far left end of the hallway. At this point, youâve been at the building enough times to know how to get upstairs, but despite the faint familiarity of it all, you continue to feel displaced and singled out whenever those beige walls surround you. Your oversized cream sweater is like a beacon of light in such a dim office, but it serves its purpose to keep you warm against the powerful air conditioner in there. How Spencer gets anything done under those circumstances, you donât know, but the shivers travelling up and down your arms are enough to keep you alert and on the look out for the most likely presence to seeâ your favourite bright pink, bleached blonde geek.Â
âExcuse me, can I help you?â Heâs wearing a suit, much like the ones Agent Hotchner wears and you have to hold back tears. Itâs all very intimidating, knowing that at any point one of these people could find you suspicious and start asking you questions.Â
âUh, y-yeah, I guess you can,â Clearing your throat, your hand squeeze the shoulder of your bag tighter, and when his eyes move to look at the slight movement, you know heâs a part of the BAU. You know heâs reading you like Spence does. âI need to find Dr. Spencer Reid,â Saying his full name still feels odd to you. âCould you maybe tell me where he is?âÂ
âOh? Reid?â This expression you knowâ surprise. âAre you his girlfriend or something?âÂ
âHis girlfrâ I uhâ I mean, Iââ It takes a moment for you to realise that if you say no, then you have to explain to this stranger what you really are to Dr. Reid, and that is a can of worms you rather not open right now, so instead of being honest like you always try to be, you blush and nod. ��I uh, yeah. I am.âÂ
âOh wow!â His genuine shock to the news ticks you off a little. Itâs not all that crazy that Spencer would have a girlfriend, considering his charming awkwardness and his bright, beautiful smile. âHe never mentioned a girlfriend before, I didnâtââ
âIs he here or not?!â You kind of shriek, widening your eyes in hopes to make him pity you enough to move on with this a bit faster.Â
âNo, he isnât. I think his team just left for the tarmac, they got a case in this morning andââÂ
His voice fades to the background easily, your anxiety peaking through with that annoying ringing in your ear. Spencer left to another state and didnât call you. Logically, you know that his job and his feelings for you, however good or bad they might be, are not connected. Logically, it is easy to make that distinction. However, you are not a logical person all the time. You are not a genius like he is, and sometimes, you let your heart lead; you let your emotions take over like a tsunami inside of you, crashing and crashing and crashing, until you are nothing but a crumble of what you once was.Â
You are ready, too. Ready to give up and delay the inevitable until the nurse can reach him directly, until youâre not the one having to panic, until he can deal with this personally. Consider it an addictive habit of a you of many moons ago, a Y/N who let things go to protect herself and avoid unnecessary confrontation. Confronting Josh was never the best option, so you had to come up with strategies. Plans, schemes, lies. You hate that youâve become good at those, hate that all the work youâve done to leave those behind is now at risk, but something deep inside of you canât let this go.Â
Something that you know very well is the need to make Spencer proud. The need to be there for him after all the times he was there for you. Itâs your time to be the hero.Â
âCall Hotchner.âÂ
There is a harshness in your voice that is very much planted there. The same goes for the twitch of your brows, the bite to the inside of your cheek, the averting gaze to the floor. Itâs time to tell the story the profiler wants to read, and you double down when you let out an exasperated sigh, pushing your disheveled hair back. âI need you to call Hotchner and get Spencer back here right now.âÂ
You shouldnât want to laugh with how he fumbles with his phone, quickly dealing the bossâ number, but all amusement is gone when he mumbles something about an Spencerâs girlfriend and passes the phone to you. âHe wants to talk to you.âÂ
âOh god⌠hello?â You say, voice wobbling a little.Â
âMiss Y/L/N?â In the background, you can hear some chatter and nothing else. Are they in the jet already? Have you failed? âIs everything alright? Why are you in the office?â
âI am truly sorry, sir,â You gulp down, glancing at the man in a silent request for some privacy. âBut I need to speak to Spencer. He is not answering his phone and itâs an emergency. Penelope wasnât answering either, so I thought I could come find her, but SSA Greenberg asked me if I needed help andââ
âIs that why you told him you were Spencerâs girlfriend?âÂ
âFamily emergency trumps everything,â You explain, the heavy weight of you guilt settling in. For some reason, you think you got Spencer in trouble.Â
âMiss Y/L/N, is this about your case? We explained that we would have cases alongsideââ
âSir, itâs his mother. I donât know the details, but there was a call and they asked him to call them back as soon as possible.âÂ
The eery silence that follows has you holding your breath. You are not sure how much his team knows about the intricacies of his personal life, but they surely know more than you do, considering the immediate rustle you hear on the other side of the line.
âWeâve just arrived at the tarmac. Iâm sending send Reid and Garcia back to help us from there,â Agent Hotchner says, voice dripping with authority. âWait for him there. Tell Officer Kaper he will be relived as soon as Reid arrives.âÂ
âOffice Kaper is⌠not here.â
ââŚWe will discuss this later. They should be arriving in twenty.âÂ
âOkay. Okay, good,â You breathe out loudly. âThank you, sir.âÂ
Once the call ends, once you give SSA Greenberg his phone back and evade all the questions he has about you and Spencer, once you push down the wave of relief that almost makes you fall to the ground⌠you make your way to Penelopeâs office. You need credentials to walk into her lair, itâs not as simple as just opening a doorâ she is the gatekeeper of all things confidential, and you know not all people are authorised to walk in. The fact that this is the same woman who has invited you over for wine night and got so drunk she couldnât stop talking about the one time she walked in on Morgan showering is actually insane. The Penelope you know canât keep a secret for her life, but then again, this is not Penelopeâs office. This is Garciaâs lair, and you need to remember that these are fundamentally two different people. Just like Spence and Dr. Reid. JJ and Jennifer. Prentiss and Emily. All of them had managed a level of separation that seemed practically impossible to you, leaving work outside of their homes in a perfectly packed box by the door. It makes you wonder, though, if when he walks out the door to go to the office, he leaves you behind in a box inside.Â
Compartmentalising is not something you did well. You tried, back when you first arrived in Washington, at the recommendation of your therapist, but you seemed to struggle more than normal. At your core, you believe in honesty, in transparency, and despite everything youâve been through, you never gave up on yourself, on your core self, not the self youâve created to appease Josh. Though you did forget about her, for a while. Distracted by your new life, you missed your old self like you miss old high school friends; remembering the good old times but still doing nothing to reach out.Â
Just like you told your mom, youâre scared it will happen again. That youâll lose yourself in the beautiful world of Spencer Reid and lose sight of what mattersâ yourself. You might have learned this way later in life than you should have, but a relationship is a two way road and now you know that. Now, you want to know that, you want Spencer to show you that. There is a kind of romance in how he leaves books for you to read next to the armchair, a certain indication that he knows what you like. A type of care in how he buys the shampoo and conditioner you mentioned you liked one time almost eight months ago. This is where you are trying to meet him at, ordering the rare books heâs so desperate after through your unique contacts. Making him breakfast before work. Unfolding the corners of his books. Even though you express yourself better with words than actions, you donât miss the way his eyes sparkle a little extra whenever he sees his coffee mug filled up for him first thing in the morning or how he always pretends to be caught off guard when you bring him a surprise book from the store. Spencer can read you like he has been born to do so, and yet, he still played along. For you, heâd always play along.Â
Which is why, when they found you sitting on the floor next to Garciaâs office, he plays along. âAre you more comfortable there than sitting on my desk?âÂ
His casual tone shocks you a little bit. Scrambling to your feet, you meet him and Penelope halfway. âSpence!â You gasp, hands stretching out to touch him, feel him, ground him, anything. You just need to make sure he is paying attention, the hands on his biceps squeezing it slightly. âSpence, you need to call your mom! Something happened, and I tried calling you guys but you werenât picking up, so I came here to tell you that you need to call her, youââ
âY/N,â Spence whispers in that way that makes your heart speeds up. His eyes are stuck to yours, shinning with something youâve seen before, something youâve seen last night. âY/N, my mom is okay. Hotch told me to call her as soon as he sent us back, sheâs okay, everythingâs been handled. Are you okay? Sweetheart, youâre sweatingâŚâÂ
Garciaâs gasp falls onto deaf ears as you and Spencer lose yourself in each other. âI was nervous,â You mumble, trying to pull away and dab at your forehead, but heâs on it. His hands catch you by the elbow and gently bring you closer into what slowly turns into a hug. âIâm so sorry, Spence, I didnât mean to listen to the message, I swear I didnât, I was just there and the machineââ
âI know,â He nods his head distractedly and gently wipes you clammy skin with the wrist of his sweater. âI know, Y/N, you donât have to apologise. Thank you for coming all the way here to look for me just to tell me to call my mom. I truly appreciate it.â
âOf course I would,â There is something building between you two, a tension very familiar to you now that youâve been watching it pile on for the past couple of weeks.Â
For Penelope, though, it is certainly news.Â
âOH MY GOD!âÂ
Snapped out of the trance of those honeyed eyes, you turn to look at your blonde friend with a pale complexion. âPen, noââÂ
âOH MY GOD, YOU TWO BONED!âÂ
âWhat?! No! Absolutely not!â Spencer takes a step back from you like heâs suddenly troubled by thought of being that close to you, and you canât really hide how your heart breaks a little at that.Â
âYeah⌠apparently absolutely not,â You repeat, coming back down to your harsh reality since the bubble burst.
âWhatâ What just happened?â She utters, but you donât really give her a chance to develop her line of thought, grabbing the access card from her hand and swiping it through the reader to unlock her door. âWait, wait, whatââ
âIâll stay here with Pen,â You say without looking back at Spencer. Your job here is done and until Officer Kaper can come pick you up, you know they wonât let you leave the building. âIâll call Mike for a ride, so donât worry about me going back alone. Iââ
âHeâs not here?â Spencer asks, looking around with that adorable confused frown of his. âWait, Y/N, did you come here by yourself?! Didnât we talk aboutââ
âNo Spencer, we didnât! We didnât talk about a lot of fucking things, and then you left off this morning like you didnât want to talk about it and, and, and I was panicking, okay?! You didnât pick up the phone and Iâm a big enough girl to take the subway alone!â Your voice certainly raises enough to have people looking at you two, and your cheeks fire up in embarrassment. You are causing a scene at his workplace, and in your opinion, that is unacceptable. Gulping, you look down, tugging Penelope into her sacred space and closing the door behind you. âIâm sorry. That was out of line. Iâm really sorry.âÂ
âY/N, waitââ But the door closes midway through his sentence and despite him having access to enter, he knows better than to press on a sore spot.Â
The worst part is that you kind of want him to. And you hate that part of yourself that wants such a reactive behaviour from this peaceful man. Spencer does plenty to show you he cares, even if he does it in his own quiet, subtle way, and that is enough for you. Fuck, that should be enough for you. Yet somehow, nothing seems to shut up that voice in your head telling you that yes, he is enough⌠but you arenât. In your overthinking mind, you know that you are too average for Spencer. Youâd never be able to keep up with him, with his spectacular brain and his humble attitude. At best, all you offer him are books, some observations here and there, and a warm body to hug at night. At worst, youâre a burden to a man who already carries the entire world on his shoulder.Â
âYou two?!â Penelopeâs dramatic gasp is enough to put a pause on your pity party. âBoy genius and you?!â Scoffing, you sit down on the chair she pulled for you. âI know⌠sounds ridiculous, right? I mean, the man is a genius and Iâm⌠well-read at best.âÂ
âOh, no. No, no, no, no, weâre not going there,â Barely does she know youâre already there, that youâve been there this entire morning. âWhat happened? Last time we talked, it was a crush and nothing else! And now you and boy wonder are âsweetheartâing each other and the forehead kiss was just so adorable andââÂ
âWe kissed.âÂ
The way it comes out to her, unlike how it did with your mom, is a confession rather than a posing issue. It makes your heart race and your sad face lifts for a second, enough to let a giggle escape. This is what friends are for, and you are happy to be living through this again.Â
âYOU WHAT?â
âPen, donât shout!â You whisper, looking at the door like itâs about to slam open at any second. âWhat if someone hears?â âWould that matter?â She laughed. âYou basically told the biggest gossip in the FBI that you are Spencerâs girlfriend.âÂ
âOh my god,â You groan. Slowly getting comfortable in your chair, you pull your legs up to your chest and let your head fall on your knee dramatically. âHeâs going to hate me.âÂ
âNow why on Earth do you think that? Iâm pretty sure Spencer has had wet dreams of you calling him your boyfriend.âÂ
âPenelope!â Itâs suddenly way too hot in her office, your entire body flushing instead of just your cheeks. âYou are wrong, by the way⌠He had a whole dinner planned, you know? He was turning his apartment into the perfect date when I got back home, and he was cooking and he looked so good, Pen, so, so, so good and we justâ I mean, it just happened! And thenâŚâ
Penelope is holding onto your every word, perfectly painted lips biting on her fluffy pink pen. âAnd thenâŚ?â Her wiggly brows are a dead giveaway of where her dirty, dirty mind is going.Â
âAnd then, just as we get to the roomâŚâ You repeat, leaning forward as if youâre about to tell her the biggest secret of your life, only to deflate right after. âHe pulls away, kisses me on the forehead, and goes to sleep.âÂ
âNo!â
âOh yeah,â You sigh, body crumbling in a defeated lump of limbs. âAnd then this morning? Nothing. Nada. Not even a peck on the lips as a âgood morningâ.â
âOh wow,â She says after a moment. You find some comfort in how she seems as wordless as you were early today. âOh wow, thatâs⌠wow. Itâs impressive, but itâs not shocking. Still, itâs⌠wow.âÂ
âNot shocking?â You shriek. âItâs very shocking!âÂ
âOh, sweet pumpkin,â There is so much comfort in the clicks and clacks of her heels when she gets up and comes to give you a hug. Admittedly, Penelopeâs hugs are much like one of a mother; warm, caring, and all encompassing. Itâs enough to heal wounds you didnât even know you had, like she is searching your soul the same way she searches the web for evidenceâ with expertise. âI sometime forget youâve never known little boy genius when he was, well, little. Our pretty boy over there is not⌠the best with people.âÂ
âThatâs mean, Pen,â You sigh, frowning a little. He might not say much about his feelings, and sure, sometimes Spencer is quite reserved to his own mind in a way that makes you think he assumes people wonât really understand whatâs going on up there, but never has Spencer made you feel uncomfortable or bad about yourself. Saying he is ânot the best with peopleâ actually upset you because despite a couple of hiccups here and there, Spencer is great with you. He remembers everything you say you like or dislike, he cares about your opinions even though sometimes you feel like youâre just saying the obvious, he is gentle with his touches and hugs. âSpencer is amazing, heâs always so careful with everything and everyone, and heâs so kind, and gentle, and considerate. Heâs just too in his head sometimes, but thatâs okay! So am I, so is everyone, you know?â
âItâs so cute how youâre quick to jump to his defence,â She teased, shaking you a little by the shoulders. âI know heâs all of that, trust me. I would die for Spencerâ no, thatâs too easy. I would kill for Spencer, and I actually almost did once! Andââ
âWait, what?!â
âAnd what Iâm trying to say is not that he is a bad person, but that he can get a bit awkward. Try to think from his perspective, Y/N, the kid went to college when he was 14. All those crazy life experiences we had in college, he didnât. And then he joined the FBI, and time just⌠got away.âÂ
âAre you trying to tell me Spencer Reid is a virgin?â You gasp, mouth hung open in surprise, because from the little action you two had going last night, you would not have betted on that.Â
âGod, no⌠or at least I donât think so, but what I am trying to tell you, my cute bookworm, is that his experience is⌠limited to a couple of people. Very different people. One of his exes was a famous actress kind of people. They did long distance every single time kind of people.âÂ
Little by little, the engines in your brain start turning, and things start making sense. âHe never⌠had a proper relationship?â Somehow, this makes it feel like all that weight that is sitting on your chest, the pressure of figuring everything out by yourself, the racing thoughts that canât leave you alone⌠itâs all gone. All easing up in a lighter mist of confusion and sadness.Â
Her curls bounce around her face when she shakes her head. âNot that weâve known. So just⌠god, please give him a chance. Heâs a good egg, a perfect egg, even! Just a bit confused with his own brain and, and, and heâs probably wondering whatâs the proper procedure from here on out! Heâs probably confused and wondering what to do andâ and heâs so happy, Y/N. This morning, he couldnât stop smiling. He didnât tell Â
Morgan to shut up when he made sex jokes. He didnât hog the coffee machine. It was like he was in his own little world and it was so cute to see him finally acting like the boy he should have been all along. I donât want to see that go away.âÂ
Penelope Garcia has a tell that you are pretty sure she doesnât know about. It usually peek through her desperate rambles that you love so much, squeezing her voice out of her until sheâs barely speaking. You know sheâs self-conscious about her rambles, the amount of times she has apologised to you enough proof of it, but when she starts feeling guilty, like sheâs staying something she shouldnât have been, Penelopeâs voice dies down, to the point that her mouth is moving but no sound is coming out. Â
âPenâŚâÂ
âI know you like him,â The intensity of her eyes behind her glasses is enough to have you looking away. âI know you do, you like him so much that you broke your security protocol and ran to the FBI to tell him that he needed to call his mom. Please donât give up on him.â
âIâm not,â You whisper back, shaking your head so fast your neck hurts a little. âPen, Iâm not giving up on him, I donât think I ever could. Iâm just⌠insecure. I understand Spenceâs experience is unique to him, but mine is unique to me, and I think weâre both in the learning process. I just wish he wouldâve talked to me, you know? Spencer kissed me like there was no tomorrow yesterday and this morning he didnât even acknowledge it. What if he doesnât want to do it anymore? What if he changed his mind? You know, his brain works too fast and he couldâve thought about all the future scenarios in which this goes wrong andââ
âYou know, sometimes you two sound so much alike that itâs scary. Iâll tell you the same thing I told him, get your head out of your ass, itâs not a hat.âÂ
âHey!â
âYour intrusive thoughts are shitty!âÂ
âThat is a really weird way to put itââ
âWhat are you two talking about?â Turning to look at Spencer, youâre surprised to see him all packed up with his satchel hanging by his side. You deflate a little at how ready he is to leave, thinking heâs going back to the tarmac to meet up with the team wherever they are, but he beats you to the punch. âY/N, ready to go home?âÂ
âOh,â You scramble to get up, grabbing your bag and your visitorâs pass and then nodding. âYeah, I guess. Are you coming with?â
âYeah, I told Hotch Iâd be working from home in case my momâs nurse called again,â He gives you that tight-lipped smile you love so much and you kind of swoon.Â
âAlright,â You give Penelope a hug goodbye and from then on, you find yourself in the longest stretch of silence youâve ever been before.Â
The tension is there, taut enough that you feel like your stomach is being pulled out of your body every time he sucks in a breath a bit too hard or opens his mouth just to close it again. Every time, you think heâs going to initiate the chat, and, every time, he doesnât. It disappointment after disappointment, and by the time you two make it back to his place, yo canât keep it in anymore. âSpence,â You call softly, letting him open the door the the building without rush and following him inside. As per usual, heâs quick to let you lead, gesturing politely for you to go up first. âSpence, we need to talk about last niâ Abigail, what are you doing here?â
Youâre not even at the top of the stairs when you see her, all sweaters and ponytails standing by your door. âOh, hi boss!â Her joke makes you cringe a little, but you smile nonetheless. You mustâve done something to alert Spencer of how uncomfortable you actually are, his hand sneaking to grab yours as he squeezes past you to stand one step above, body almost covering yours completely. âOh. Hi.âÂ
Her tone change is obvious even to your layman ears, and you squeeze Spencerâs hand in nervousness. âAbigail, right?â He asks, a small smile playing on his lips as if heâs trying to be nice, though the squint in his eyes tells a whole other story. âGood to see you again. Did you move in okay?âÂ
âYeah,â The way she moves her head to the side, trying to get a glimpse of you, has red flags raised all up in your head. âAll moved in and ready to start work on Monday!â
âIâm happy to hear youâre excited, Abigail!â You reply with a forced chuckle, climbing the extra step to stand side by side with Spence. Your hands are intertwined behind his back, his fingers playing with yours, and if itâs to keep you calm or himself, you donât know. âIâm excited for you to start at the store, too. Is there anything you need, though? I know I said Iâd send you a starter email and a draft of a schedule, but I just havenât had the time today. Iâll work on it as soon as I can!â
âOh, no, no, no hurry!â Once she can see you, itâs like her whole persona changes. Sheâs bubblier when sheâs talking to you, shoulders less tense and voice less tense. âI was just coming here to bring you this. It got delivered to my apartment by accident, but it has your name on it.âÂ
From behind her back, she pulls a brown package. Itâs small and thin, and it doesnât seem so have any logo on it. âY/N, are you expecting something?â Spencer whispers, eyes not leaving Abigailâs hand and for a second you let yourself panic enough to believe sheâs carrying a bomb. It felt like she was carrying a bomb. Like it was going to blow up and your entire life, your entire re-construed life with Spencer by your side, and everything would soon come crumbling down.Â
âN-No,â You stutter back and your body goes frigid cold when Abigail takes a step forward to you two, arms stretched out to give you the package. âOh my god, no, no, no one knows Iâmââ
Quickly grabbing the box, Spencer wastes no time in getting you inside the apartment. âThank you so much for bringing this, Abigail, but we really have to get home. As promised, youâll hear from Y/N soon on that starter email. Have a great rest of your day!â
âWait, I wanted to talk to Y/N aboutââ The loud slamming of the door drowns her words out.Â
Before even looking your way, Spencer is on the phone. âHotch,â He breathed out, eyes wide in that crazed way that youâve only see once before, in your shop when he had his gun out. âShe found Y/N.âÂ
You know you canât call this an ending, not when you two never even had a beggingâŚ
âWe have to relocate her.âÂ
But it surely feels like one.Â
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In death's arms
Pairing: Annatar/Sauron x fem!maia! reader Summary: There was nothing Sauron regretted doing. Every nasty thing he did to gain power paid off for him, and given the choice again, he would do it all over again. Or so he thought, until his path was crossed with someone from his past. It turns out that some of his mistakes are destined to haunt him forever. Author's note: A little sth that stuck in my head after watching Agatha All Along... this is pure fiction and probably wouldn't work in Middle-earth, but since I've written it... đ
I've been completely out of it lately and everything's been going so fast in my life lately, so I'm terribly sorry if I've missed any messages/comments from you! I'm trying to catch up slowly! Anyway, enjoy! Halbrand's Masterlist ~â˘â¤â¤â¤â˘~ Main Masterlist
âHave you come to torment me again?â He asks, gathering the last of his strength to mock you as you appear before him.
From the nasty grin you give him, instead of being angry at his mockery, he realises how bad a state he is in. Morgoth has just put him through one of his tests. Sauron no longer remembers what he had to do. But he remembers his master's anger when he failed. He remembers clearly every cut he inflicted on him, every wound, every spilt blood that stained his skin and clothes, or at least the shreds that remained of them.
He no longer counted how much of his blood had soaked into his clothes and how much into the stone floor and wall behind him. And the seemingly irritating digging of the bars into his neck and skin stopped bothering him as the metal and his body became one.
"Contrary to appearances, your new master is not willing enough to hand you over to me. Too bad. You'd look pretty in your grave, Mairon. Oh, forgive me. Old habits die hard, Sauron."
He trembles when you speak his true name. The name given to him by the Valar. It sounds both sweet and deadly on your lips. A reminder of what he has lost, of what he could have had, had his lust for power been kept in check, had he never left the forgeâŚ
"He needs me. He knows that only I can lead his army to the victory."
"Victory, death. What's the difference, right?" You reply with a smirk that sends an unpleasant shiver down his spine.
He feels... uneasy around you. It wasn't something he was used to. Your presence always brought him some kind of comfort and peace, but now... now everything was different. He and you had changed. Not necessarily for the better.
"I suppose it makes no difference to you whether you take me in a dungeon or on a battlefield."
"But your honour wouldn't allow you to be beneath me, would it, my sweet deceiver?" You mock him and laugh, which sends a cold, unpleasant shiver down his spine.
Your laughter is so different from the one he remembers. It is bleak and harsh as the blade he once forged for you, and which you now carry at your side.
He remembered loving to bask in the glow of your laughter, in the halls of the Valar, as you feasted and danced, living as carefree a life as could be. Sometimes he longed for those days... to spend another one like this, so that he could engrave it forever in his memory and cling to it to save himself from total corruption and rottenness.
"Why do you keep showing up? You know that you can't get your claws on me."
"I am aware about that. But every moment like this will only sweeten the day when I finally take you in my arms, my dear deceiver. And believe me... you will not escape once I finally get my hands on you. In the end, all paths lead to one person. And it is not Morgoth. It is not any of your Valar. It is not any being that you know. In the end, you will come to me. And you will suffer more than Morgoth ever made you do, my Dark Lord."
You press your lips to his foreheadâthe place where Morgoth smashed his skull into the wall and split his head. He trembles as your lips press against raw, bleeding skin. You groan, running your tongue over his wound, tasting his black blood. And he cries out as you send waves of pain through him worse than any Morgoth had inflicted on him.
He holds his breath as your other hand lazily caresses the skin of his arm, tracing patterns with your black nails, only to suddenly dig them into the open wounds Morgoth had inflicted on him. Sauron groans in pain, trembling in your arms. You press your lips to his, drinking in his every cry as you caress him with your gentle touch and send waves of pain shooting through every tiny particle of his body.
"I will drink in every one of your sweet screams, my dearest. I will bask in every pain your being feels. Until all you remember, all you know, is me and my blade." You whisper your promise, and as suddenly as you came, you disappeared.
You leave him trembling and crying on the cold stone floor, dirty with his blood. And though he hated the times you came to mock him, he was relieved that you didn't leave him completely alone. Even if you only came to drive the knives Morgoth had placed inside him deeper.
He needed you. As pathetic as it was, he needed those little moments with you to keep him from going completely crazy during his darkest hours and the tests his master put him through.
But he lived with the hope that one day he would be able to repay you with the same sweet torture. That one day he would be the one to listen to your sighs of pain... or cries of pleasure. He wasn't sure yet whether he loved or hated you moreâeven though you seemed to already have your mind set about your feelings towards him.
Adar has betrayed him. He has betrayed him in the worst possible way. Sauron lies on the floor, surrounded by Orcs who drive the blades of Morgoth's crown into him as their Lord-Father looks on passively.
This couldn't be the end. He couldn't end like this. He couldn't be defeated like Morgoth had been, not by the filthy stinking Orcs and someone he had considered a friend. His master had been right; if they didn't fear you, you were nothing to them. There was no ally so powerful, so loyal, and true as fear. And now he was learning his lesson once again. In the most painful way possible.
He took small, ragged breaths that burned his body every time his lungs tried to expand and draw in air. Blood dripped from almost every inch of his body. And suddenly, in the distance, a few feet from those nasty orcs, he sees you.
You watch his fall with complete calm. You play carelessly with the blade he gave you, waiting for his end, letting the orcs finish their work. He sees no emotion on your face. Ironic, considering that this is probably the best day of your life. He will finally get his punishment from you. There was nothing he could do to escape you... unless...
He gasps especially hard when one of the orcs plunges a blade into his heart. As if through a haze, he sees Adar above him, who, after making sure that his physical body has been completely destroyed, says something to his orcs. Sauron hears only a screech in his ears as his battered heart gives its last beat. And then there is only darkness. Bleak darkness, which is quickly interrupted by a song all too familiar to him.
"Come, come, my lost soul, you will find your peace. Come, come, down your road, straight into my arms."
Sauron remembers the countless nights after Morgoth's torture, when you sang it to him and mocked him, giving him a taste of what you would do when you could finally take him in your arms.
Once it was a simple lullaby. A lullaby you made up for him when he couldn't calm his mind, when he spent too much time in AulĂŤ's forge, too absorbed in his work to see you. Now you were attracting souls who were about to meet their end.
But he is not ready for death yet. He does not want to go like this. Not when he has known no power, not when the sacrifice he made of himself has brought him nothing at all. He does not want to go into your arms, knowing that he has thrown away everything he had with you for nothing.
"Look where your lust has taken you, my darling." You tell him with a smirk, taking your time as you walk towards him.
He kneels, swaying as he tries to keep his balance. He falls on both hands in front of you, taking in shuddering breaths as the black bonds of your magic close around him, crushing him in a tight embrace.
"I thought you loved my embrace? You told me so. Remember? When we lay together in the halls of the Valar, each held tightly, when you swore to me that you would not yield to Morgoth's influence, that what we have was enough, that you would never dream of more than what we have? Tell me, did you plan to betray me even then, or did you forget your promises in time?"
After each of your mockery comes a blow from you. Sometimes it's a simple kick, sometimes a punch delivered from your fist, and sometimes you pierce his body with a dagger, tormenting him even more and twisting him so that the blade grazes every single muscle of his. You were going for your revenge. And nothing was going to stop you.
"Pathetic. You wanted power. You wanted power so great that millions would kneel before you, and now you are on your knees. You were willing to do anything; you gave up everything just to fulfil your dark desires. Tell me, Sauron, was it worth it? Because I am truly happy with this turn of events."
He gasps as you grab him by the neck, forcing his gaze to meet yours. He trembles, staring into your black, dilated pupils. Your face is nothing like the one he remembers. You look like death. You are the real death. He trembles, seeing what the Vaalr did to you after he left and what punishment they gave you for loving a traitor. He looks away, wanting to momentarily ease his guilt and helplessness, but your tightening grip on his neck won't let him.
"You have no idea how long I've dreamed of this. You have no idea how long I've wanted to tear out every last piece of you just to put you back together and present you to the Valar, to give you into their hands so you could suffer as you should. Do you think that what you became was all your fault? That they wanted to punish us for our love? I asked them to make me something you fear, something you must reckon with. I am what everyone sees at the end; I am what takes everyone, even the mightiest of men. I am the end of Morgoth, the end of all evil, all good, the end of everything. I am death." You growl and throw him across the room.
He groans in pain, but he doesn't try to run away from you anymore. He knows that without his physical form, without any power, he won't hide from you. He was in your world, in the thrall of your power. And if he wanted to somehow escape from your grip, he had to play his cards right.
"I never wanted this for you... I never wanted this for us." He gasps, glancing at you. You walk slowly toward him, your black outfit billowing behind you, giving you an ethereal, trash-like look. As much as he fears you, he yearns to have you by his side. But he's not foolish or naive enough to believe you'll ever be on his side again.
"You left me! You left me to rot in the light of the Valar!! You tore my heart, all my humanity, destroyed everything I was, and left me alone. What did you want then, deceiver? What did you want, if not my absolute destruction, so that the vestiges of my past would not torment you in your greedy quest for power?"
He grunts as you drive your sword through his side. He grabs your hand, the one resting on the hilt, and pulls you toward him. You land on the floor with him, and before you can react, he's straddling you, placing the metal against your neck as he leans over you. His blood decorates your skin as his hand cups your cheek. Any attempts to fight him die inside you as his skin touches yours. You freeze for a moment, unused to someone's touch after so long alone, and he takes advantage of it as much as he can.
"I⌠I've always wanted⌠I've dreamed of you standing beside me⌠as my queen. My equal⌠I⌠I would never turn my back on you completely." He mumbles, pressing his nose to your temple. You break your dark vision of death for a moment and show him the face he knew so well, the one he had missed for so long that tears came to his eyes. You kick him in the chest and push him away, trying to regain some control. You reach for your neck and wipe away his blood. Without taking your eyes off him, you lick your fingers clean.
"You would trade me for the power Morgoth had at the first opportunity. You have no heart. You never did. And I was too naive to see you for who you really were." With a flick of your wrist, the bonds around him reappear. His wrists and ankles are bound and he is immobilized as he waits for you to make your final move and take his soul from this world forever.
"I have a heart. As black and rotten as yours. And it beats for you. Always has, always will. Even if you seek to destroy me utterly⌠even if you are left all alone after you have done your duty to the Valar and taken me into your sweet, hellish embrace." He says, only half-feigning contrition for what he had done.
He loved you. If there was one thing he was certain of about his old life, it was that he had loved you deeply. But not enough to become just another servant of the Valar. He wanted more. He had to have more. If he couldn't have you by his side, he would be content to fight with you. Until death do you part.
"If you loved me, you would never leave me." The slight tremor in your voice gives him hope that this meeting will go as he had hoped.
He lifts his gaze to you, studying you as you stand before him. The dagger in your hand is still a painful reminder of what it could cost him if he doesn't say the right words, but for now all he can think about is how wonderfully terrifying you look, standing before him in all your glory and power.
You captivate him. You tempt him. The Valar knew what they were doing when they made you the Lady of Death. You would be his undoing. He knows it. Eventually he will fall, and there will be no turning back. But before he does... he wants to make sure he remains legendary and eternal.
"It was because I loved you that I had to leave you. I didn't want to taint you with my darkness. You were pure. You were the sweetness that I wanted to drink and destroy at the same time for my own pleasure. You would not have had a better fate with me." He tries to defend himself by touching your most sensitive spot. He sees your ardour slowly subside as you begin to really consider his words.
You hesitate. He can see it in your gaze. He can see that the vision of your dream future he's presented to you is starting to tempt you. If he'd pushed you just a little further, if he'd said a few more words, maybe you'd really join his side? Maybe you'd be a force against the world? Maybe if he hadn't left you completely alone, maybe you could have had it all?
You walk up to him and stop a few millimetres away from him. If he takes a deep breath, his chest can gently brush against yours. He wants so badly to drive the blade into you and simultaneously capture your lips in a kiss that it's a confusing feeling in his current situation. You wanted him dead. That's what you came here for. To take him away. And yet you still had your ways of making him want you.
You lean forward, your hair brushing his cheek as your tongue traces the shell of his ear. He shivers as your cold breath contrasts with the warm saliva you spread before you bite down on his skin teasingly.
"I was soaked in it long before you even thought about leaving, my sweet deceiver. Now, I am just darkness." You whisper in his ear. You move away millimetres, far enough to look him in the eyes.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you raise your blade, preparing to deal the final blow and take his soul forever, locking him away in a cell next to Morgoth, most likely.
So in a desperate act of self-savement, or perhaps out of the lust you've awakened in him, or perhaps out of the pure desire to taste your lips one more time before he leaves this world, he leans down and kisses you.
And it surprises you. Sauron hears the dagger fall from your hand to the floor as you reach for his hair, tangling your hands in it. He groans and tugs at the bonds you've trapped him in so he can wrap his arms around you and take you in his arms like he wanted to all along, but you don't let him move an inch. He growls in rage and bites your lip in retaliation, drawing bloodâa random action that saves him from his predicament.
With each drop of your blood, he feels the power within him begin to bubble up again. Before you know it, he breaks your bonds and pushes you against the wall behind you. You groan in protest, trying to push him away from you. You try to summon your powers to immobilise him again, but he plunges his blade into your arm, effectively distracting you.
You cry out in pain, cursing his name, but he has only one goal in mind. He tears your clothes and burrows into your skin, biting and caressing every exposed part, feeding on your blood and power, restoring his soul the vitality it needs.
You are a mess of black blood and tears as he feasts on you, outsmarting you and binding you in your own shackles that you used against him.
"You won't take me as easily as you take these mortals." He growls against your skin, drinking your blood as he uses his knife to carve tiny cuts into your skin, decorating it with both black liquid and hickeys, marks from his bites and fingers.
âYouâll pay for this.â You moan as he bites into your neck, leaving a messy, bloody trail. He licks his lips and grabs you roughly by the waist, pulling you closer so you can feel the bulge of his cock against your thigh.
"Then, my sweet death, you will take me as a happy man." He growls in your ear before smashing his lips against yours in another kiss. You don't register the moment he takes your amulet from you.
His kisses numb you to the point where you don't register anything but him. All that matters to you is the way his hands caress your body, the way his lips defile every little inch of you. It feels so good to finally feel someone's touch on youâŚso good to finally feel HIS touch on you.
"I think that few people have the privilege of saying that they fucked death..." He mumbles in your ear, drunk on the feeling of you beneath him.
And just when he's about to bring you the greatest pleasure, just when he's teased your core long enough that you clench around his fingers desperate for more, he does something far worse than drive your dagger through you. He leaves you completely alone again.
You scream, furious and frustrated, both for having him deceive you and sexually for not giving you the release you deserved. You pound your fists on the ground and scream long and shrillyâenough that he will surely be able to hear you, whatever pathetic form he has taken since breaking out of your realm.
And driven by hot fury, you know only one thingâhe will pay for this. Even if you were to seek him out and ignore your duties. You'll get him in your arms.
There was something addictive about the way people were drawn to him.
Ever since Sauron took the form of Annatar, the people of Eregion had flocked to him like moths to a flame, seeking gifts from the great messenger of the Valar. He liked the power he had over them. How one of his (false) words could turn them into his obedient puppets who would do anything to fulfill the prophecy he had foretold.
However, with the number of creatures circling around him, he had increasing difficulty maintaining the illusion he had cast over the city.
This is exactly what has happened now.
Annatar/Sauron was cleaning up the mess he had made by killing one of the elves who had discovered too quickly what was happening beyond the walls of his safe illusion. He could not afford for the whispers of panic to reach the ears of the only blacksmith whose skills were satisfactory.
Lifting the body, he freezes suddenly as a cold shiver runs through him. The atmosphere in the room changes. The only lit torch goes out, the smell of sulfur begins to fill the air, the rats that were roaming the basement disappear, and the only sound in the room is his breathing. He looks around, trying to see through the darkness of the room, but all he can see is red blood on his hands..
He frowns, looking around him as he realises the body he was supposed to get rid of is gone. He walks over to the extinguished torch and relights it, illuminating the room once more. He looks around for the body, but all he sees are the empty corridors of the underground. He frowns and focuses his senses, trying to sense any additional presence or power that would mess with his head.
And then he hears it. A soft humming from down the hall. He automatically reaches to his side, where his sword is strapped to his belt, and slowly walks toward the sound of soft singing.
"Come, come, my lost soul, you will find your peace. Come, come, down your road, straight into my arms." He freezes in mid-step. Goosebumps rise across his body, and he feels his breath quicken.
Memoriesâunwanted, painful memoriesâflood his mind as he stands in the empty hallway, wondering if he should go down. Involuntarily, his memories go back to the day he survived one of Morgoth's most demanding trainingsâthe day he found out what the consequences of his actions brought to you...
"I didn't know you were a coward, Y/N! Are you going to show yourself? Or should I leave you to your work and go back to mine?" He asks cheekily, trying to get you out of your hiding place. He knows how dangerous you've become, and as much as it fascinates him, he doesn't want to be on the receiving end of your blade... or claws. "I bet you're as busy as I am these days." He mumbles, pacing the empty hallways where your humming still echoes.
He glances over his shoulder a few times, wanting to make sure that you won't surprise him with a dagger to his neck.
Sauron won't admit to himself that he's afraid of you; he just knows the threat you pose to him. There was nothing worse than a mad womanâespecially an unpredictable woman. And he was foolish enough to get on your bad side, to betray you, and don't look back. But how could he possibly know that you would get punished for his action? How could he predict that you will be paying off his sins to Valar? That only showed how unjust they were. Not only to you, but to him as well.
"Won't you show me your face?" He asks, still searching for the slightest sign that will give away your presence. But your soft singing, the haunting song that makes his heart beat faster, pumping adrenaline through his body, makes it impossible for him to fully devote himself to the task of finding you. Not if he doesn't want to end up with a sword in his chest. "Valar knows how I missed looking at it."
He turns around and, as if on cue, you appear to him. He presses his lips together tightly, refraining from gasping in surprise when he sees you in all your glory. He swallows hard when his gaze falls on your deformed face that you show him. A bloodthirsty smile, full of black fangs, sunken cheeks, and no nose, is one of the less... drastic forms in which you like to show yourself lately. Sauron knows how much you want to scare him; he hopes he doesn't give you too much entertainment.
"I would have a lot less work to do, my sweet deceiver, if you would just give yourself to me as you should and stopped playing Valar. You won't fool me a third time." You warn him, stepping closer. You see his throat tremble as he swallows, and he gently closes his eyes for a moment to inhale your scent and take in a little of your closeness.
You were so damn dangerous, deadly even... and he wanted more. Even though he knew full well that this desire would probably lead him to his grave.
"But wthout me you'd be terribly bored, wouldn't you?" He asks, giving you one of his smirks. He was playing with death, literally. He wondered how many times he could get out of your cruel clutches before he finally ran out of escape routes.
He freezes when you gently place your hand on his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertip. He grits his teeth, staring at you wordlessly as you play with a strand of his blonde hair.
"Where's your elf?" You whisper against his lips, leaning in close enough that itâs a challenge for him to stay away from you. You should be a repulsive threat to him, nothing more than an enemy to be defeated. But for some reason, whether itâs your past, the pull thatâs always been between you, or the power thatâs bound you together, he canât feel anything for you but pure lust.
"She left." He says shakily, wondering if you were jealous of him, if you watched him and Galadriel, if you planned her death when he declared that he wanted her to be his queen...
"Too bad... I would gladly take her in my arms. I guess I can only wait then. There is nothing more pleasant than meeting them all at the end of their path. They act as if they were truly immortal. You have no idea how surprised most of them are when they cross my path. Almost as surprised as you were when you first saw me in this form."
"I would appreciate seeing you more often if it weren't related to your current⌠job position." You chuckle darkly and grab his hand at his words.
You lift it between the two of you and pull out your dagger. You cut his palm, and he can only stand there, dazed, watching as you lick his black blood. You hum, tasting your power as it courses through his veins.
"Oh⌠but then it would be too boringly easy for you, right?" Your voice is velvety, like a balm to his frayed nerves. He allows himself to cling to you, completely forgetting that he should always be on guard with you. A mistake you won't fail to remind him of. "Tell me, Sauron⌠have you never heard of such a thing as being utterly charmed by death?"
Before his mind can process the meaning of your words, you have already pierced his hand with a dagger through and through. He groans in pain and tries to rip his hand from your iron grip, but you won't let him. You rip off your amulet that he stole from you, which he hung on a necklace around his neck, and you place it on his wound. You chant the appropriate words and drain him of all the power that he stole from you all those years agoâthe power that helped him be reborn again.
"Next time you lay your hands on something that doesn't belong to you, I'll chop them off. I think I can find a much better use for them. A more⌠satisfying one, if you still know what I mean." You mock him, twisting his wrist.
He growls in pain and shoves you back, sending you crashing into the wall behind you. You raise your blade higher, pressing it against his neck as he steps closer to you. You laugh as you feel him press his own weapon against your chest.
"Well, well, well. I see you've learned something after all. Tell me, my beloved, are you afraid of me?" You whisper hoarsely, licking your lips as you lean into him. You make a move to bite into his neck, but he pulls away from you at the last second, frowning at your amused, dark chuckle.
"Only a fool wouldn't be afraid of you."
"Like calls to like, right?" You pose the question, raising an eyebrow at him. You take advantage of his momentary distraction and push him against the wall. You press yourself against him and capture his lips in a bruising, hungry kiss.
He gasps into your mouth and tangles his hands in your hair, pulling you even closer. Your darkness is addictive. He wants to bask in it, to experience it so deeply that he can become intoxicated by it. He wants to bond with you and experience the same kind of limitless power that you possess. A force that borders on death itself.
As the kiss deepens, he begins to feel you slowly draining his life force. He knows he has to pull away, but not yet. He wants to taste your lips, your sighs, and your soft moans as he caresses you through the material of your night-black dress for as long as he can. But he knows that with each little touch, kiss, and soft moan, he will want more, and it will be harder for him to pull away from you.
That's why he's reluctant to push you away. But when he does, he feels how much you've weakened him with that little kiss. He gasps, laughing thoughtfully as he struggles to even out his heartbeat and his breaths. Now he understands all that talk about deadly kisses. But if he had to choose how he died, your lips were a very tempting option.
"Enjoy the time you have left. We both know that eventually you too will find me at the end of your road. On the way⌠try not to bother me too much with all the dead bodies and souls you've forced me to take care of." You wink at him and blow him a kiss before disappearing, returning to the other side where the soul of the mortal he killed was waiting for you.
Sauron is surprised that you let him go so easily after his last... antics. But he knows that you didn't leave him alive out of the kindness of your heart. You enjoyed the cat and mouse game between you; you enjoyed tormenting him with the idea that you could take his soul at any moment. So he had to think of a way to make it harder for you.
He returns to the forge and absently strokes the box with the 7 rings for the dwarves. If he had divided his soul⌠left fragments of it in each of them, it would be impossible for you to gather them all and drag him to the world of the dead, where you could torment him as you pleasedâŚ
Or perhaps, in time, he would find a way to tame death itself and submit it to his will?
One thing was sure. At the right time, you will come for him. And you will take away everything he has worked so hard for.
Just like you always do.
He had a few centuries to figure out how to cheat death again. And how to make sure that you will be the one to fall into the trap of his arms. Not the other way around.
#sauron x reader#annatar x reader#halbrand x reader#oneshot#dark romance#toxic love#toxic relationship#smut#angst#dark magic#enemies and lovers#rings of power#lotr#fanfiction#agatha all along#i have no idea what is it but i quite like the way it went
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The Perfect First Date
Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader
Summary: Rooster watches you go on failed date after failed date, often being the one to rescue you with a ride home at the end of the night. When you tell him you've never experienced proper romance, he's shocked, and makes it his mission to take you on the perfect first date, he just wasn't planning on falling for you in the process.
Warnings: fluff, some strong language, that's about it i think
Length: 4k
You shivered as you stood outside the restaurant, silently praying that you wouldn't bump into the disastrous date you'd just left as you waited for Rooster to pick you up. He was always your first call in situations like this and it seemed like he really didn't mind. Often, if he knew you were going on a date, he'd wait up for you to make sure you were okay. He'd told you that once after a few drinks at the Hard Deck.
You and Rooster had been friends for a while, ever since you both got called back to Top Gun. You'd never been close while you were both actually at Top Gun, but with the stress of the mission you'd all been called back for, a close friendship between the entire group blossomed. Of course, you'd had a major crush on him back when you'd studied there, but you'd never tell him that. You and Phoenix laugh about it sometimes, he'd never even glanced your way at Top Gun, and now the two of you were great friends, go figure.
You shivered again as the breeze got stronger, before finally seeing Rooster in his signature blue bronco. You grinned and got in the car, fastening your seatbelt quickly.
Rooster chuckled, "Somebody's in a rush to get home." he said as he pulled away from the restaurant.
"You bet your ass I am." you replied, finally feeling comfortable enough to relax, "I swear, that might be the worst date I've been on yet."
He rolled his eyes playfully, "And where did you meet this guy again?"
You paused, "Tinder." you muttered.
He slowed the car as the lights in front of him turned red and shifted to face you, "Most of these 'dating app' guys are only after one thing, you know that right, sweetheart?"
Your stomach always did a flip when he used nicknames like that. Even though you were definitely over your childish crush, you also weren't blind. Rooster was hot and there was no denying it.
You ran a hand through your hair and leaned your head against the window as he began driving again, "I know. For once I just wanna be, I don't know, romanced."
Rooster frowned and glanced at you, "Romanced? What do you mean?"
You shrugged and gazed out of the window, "I guess I want to know what it feels like to be taken on a proper date, something really cheesy, you know? Like where the guy buys me flowers and everything-"
"You've never had a guy buy you flowers?" he cut in, shocked.
You turned to look at him and shook your head, "No. Never."
You could see the gears turning in his head as he continued, "So, hold on, you've never had anything even remotely romantic happen to you? Ever?"
You tried to think, but ended up shaking your head when you realised that you didn't have any striking romantic memories at all. All your life, work was your main focus. Of course, you'd had a couple relationships, but you'd never been surprised with a planned date or a romantic weekend away, and they mostly ended up dumping you in the end anyways, often saying you were 'married to your job'.
Rooster huffed as he pulled up to your apartment, parking and turning the engine off before facing you, "That's just... That's insane, everyone deserves romance."
You chuckled slightly, "I guess it just doesn't happen for some people, Rooster." you shrugged slightly and opened the passenger door, climbing out of the car, "Thanks for saving me again, see you tomorrow night for drinks?"
He nodded and watched as you walked into your building, wanting to make sure you were safely inside before driving away. You were on his mind the whole drive home. Well, not you specifically, it was mostly the fact that you were really missing out. He wouldn't tell most people this, but he loved romance and being romantic in general. Hell, for him that was the best part of a relationship.
Okay, maybe not the best part.
When he got to his place, his mind was set. He was going to teach you that romance can happen to anyone, it just takes a decent man to do it. Then, maybe you'd stop going on these shitty dates and meet someone who actually deserved you.
The next night, he made his way to the Hard Deck like usual. You were already there with the rest of the squad, but he had to stop on the way. He glanced down at his passenger seat where a bouquet of roses lay, again huffing to himself that no man had ever gotten you flowers. What type of shitheads had you been dating? He pulled up and parked, quickly grabbing the flowers and making his way inside, looking effortlessly cool with his aviators hanging low on his nose.
He saw you immediately, sat by the pool table and chatting with Phoenix. He took a deep breath, wondering why he felt so nervous all of a sudden. It's not like he was asking you on an actual date, he was just doing this to help you out.
He walked towards you and you turned as you saw him, eyes glancing down to the roses held tightly in his hand, you grinned, "Don't tell me you're on Tinder now too, who are you meeting tonight?"
He stopped in front of you and Phoenix and held out the roses, "You."
You took them from him gently, you face frowning in confusion, "Me? Wha-"
"I've been thinking a lot about what you said last night." he began, as Phoenix looked between the two of you confused, "It isn't right, so.. I'm going to romance you." he smirked.
Phoenix raised her eyebrows, "You're gonna what?"
"Rooster, what are you talking about?" You asked.
He straightened up, his smirk breaking into a grin, "I'm going to take you on the perfect first date, show you how it's done." he said, "I'm going to raise your standards, sweetheart."
There was the stomach flip again.
"So," he continued, "tomorrow night, 7 o'clock, be ready." he winked, before turning away and joining Bob and Hangman at the pool table.
You slowly smelled the roses he'd given you, trying to hide your smile. Phoenix snorted, "I don't know what's going on, but looks like you're pleased."
You cleared your throat and quickly placed the roses onto the table near you, shaking your head, "It's not like that, we're friends. He's just being dramatic."
Phoenix nodded and rolled her eyes, "Typical Rooster."
Later that night, Phoenix approached him at the bar, "Please explain what your plan is here."
He took a sip of beer, "What are you talking about?"
She gestured to you, sat chatting on the other side of the room, "This 'perfect first date' shit," she chuckled, "seriously Rooster, what are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking that she needs someone to treat her right for once so she can stop dating assholes-"
"What then? Date you instead?" she smirked and crossed her arms.
Rooster frowned, "That's not-" he grunted, glancing at you across the room, a fleeting thought entering his mind of what it would be like to date you.
Phoenix smiled, patting his shoulder, "Don't go catching feelings." she smirked as she grabbed her drink and walked away.
Rooster chugged the rest of his beer. You were friends and you had been for a while, if he was going to catch feelings, he would have already. That's what he told himself as he ordered another beer.
-
When it hit 7 the next night, you really didn't know what to expect, or where all of this had come from. You knew Rooster was a gentleman at heart, so maybe your words had struck a nerve in him. Either way, you decided you had nothing to lose, this was just one friend helping out another.
The buzzer in your apartment rang, and knowing it was Rooster you let him up, opening the door once he knocked.
"You know," you said, grabbing your purse from the counter behind you, "I could have just come down to meet you."
"No way." he replied, holding out his arm for you to take, "The guy always comes to the door."
You chuckled and rolled your eyes, taking his arm as you both walked downstairs to his bronco. You reached for the handle of the passenger door but Rooster beat you to it, opening it up for you to get in, "Are you serious?" you giggled, as you climbed in the passenger's seat, "This is old-school stuff, no one does this anymore."
"Correction," Rooster began, leaning over you to buckle your seatbelt. He paused by your face, "None of the assholes you date do this anymore." He noticed your cheeks redden slightly and suddenly found it difficult to look away. He smiled slightly before straightening up, "The right guy will."
He shut your door and made his way around to the drivers seat, then buckled his own seatbelt and turned on the engine.
You bit your lip, "You know, it's really nice of you to do this Rooster but-"
"Rooster?" he frowned playfully, "This is meant to be a first date, sweetheart, it's only right you call me by my actual name."
You chuckled slightly, before sighing in defeat, "Fine. Bradley."
Rooster could've sworn he felt his heart skip a beat as you said his name. He was pretty sure it was the first time he'd actually heard you say it, maybe aside from when he'd first met you in the early days of Top Gun. He was so focused back then, wanting to be the best of the best, that he'd never spoken much to you. He liked the way it sounded, he'd always thought you had a sweet voice and a part of him wanted to hear you say it again. He shook his head a little, reminding himself of the situation.
"Good." he said curtly, clearing his throat, "You wanna put some music on?" He grinned and glanced at the stereo, "Press play."
You raised your eyebrows at him, before giving in and pressing play, causing one of your favourite songs to come blasting through the speakers. You quickly turned to him in awe as he explained, "I remembered that one night I played this for you at the Hard Deck on the piano, I know you love it, so I got the CD."
You smiled brightly at him and again, he struggled to look away, especially once you started singing along. He sang with you, glancing over at you whenever he could, until the song ended.
"Perfect timing," he said, "We're almost there."
You glanced out the window as the beach came into view. Rooster saw you were confused, but it only spurred him on, excited to see if you would like what he planned. A part of him really wanted to impress you. He parked up as you turned to him, "The beach? Rooster what-" He cleared his throat to cut you off and you sighed, "Bradley, what are we doing here?"
Yep, there was no way you were ever calling him Rooster again.
He grinned, "You'll see," then he quickly got out of the car and rushed to open the passenger door for you, holding out his hand, "M'lady," he teased.
You couldn't help but laugh, taking his hand and stepping out of the car. He opened the back door and pulled out a picnic basket, before taking your hand in his again, "Ready?" he asked and you nodded, walking alongside him towards the beach.
You both walked in silence, but it wasn't awkward, in fact it felt comfortable. Rooster glanced down at your hands, he liked how big his were compared to yours, but somehow they fit perfectly together.
Eventually he stopped, reluctantly letting your hand go and placing the basket onto the sand, "What do you think, sweetheart? This a good spot?"
You chuckled and nodded as he took out a blanket and laid it carefully on the ground. You both sat down and he placed the picnic basket in between you, "I hope you're hungry, I got all your favourite things."
He opened the basket and you peaked inside, seeing all of your favourite snacks as well as a bottle of wine, "How did you even know all my favourite foods?" you asked.
He grinned, "I asked around." he reached into the basked and pulled out two wine glasses, "Would the beautiful lady like some wine?"
Your cheeks felt warm as you nodded and watched him pour you a small glass. You took it from him as he poured his own and once he was done, he turned back to you, "So, tell me about yourself."
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "What are you talking about, you already know me."
"Nope," he tutted, "This is a first date, right? I don't know anything about you yet, but I want to, that's the whole point."
You chuckled, "Wow, most of the time the guy just goes on and on about himself."
"That's because they're shitty guys," he grinned, "So, tell me about yourself, even if I've already heard it, pretend I haven't."
"Okay, uh," you paused and tried to think, "well, I'm a pilot in the Navy."
"A pilot, huh?" Rooster nodded slowly, trying to pretend this was news to him, "And what's that like?"
You smiled, "It's.. a lot. I love it though, I wouldn't give it up for anything." Rooster's smile mirrored yours, because he felt the same way about it, you continued, "Some of the guys I work with can be a real handful though."
His head tilted to the side and he smirked, "Oh really?"
You nodded, "Especially this one guy, got a real silly callsign too, something like.. Duck? Chicken?"
You giggled and he snorted, "Silly huh? Nah, I bet he's cool, gotta be handsome too."
You pretend to think it over, tapping your chin in thought, all the while your smile never left your face, "I guess he's okay." you shrug eventually, taking a sip of wine.
"Just okay?" Rooster raised his eyebrows as you giggled. He'd always know he loved your laugh, but somehow he loved it even more when you were laughing at something he'd said. It was the third time so far he had to remind himself of the situation.
"Fine, he's very handsome." you grinned, "Maybe not as handsome as Hangman but..."
Rooster chuckled, shoving you playfully, "Shut up." he laughed, secretly hoping that wasn't what you actually thought.
You sighed dramatically, "At least Hangman actually acknowledged me while we were at Top Gun."
Rooster smiled slightly, "Guess I just knew how much of a distraction you'd be back then."
You snorted, "Or you were going through a moody teenager phase."
"That's probably true, yeah." he nodded slowly, chuckling to himself.
You smiled, "It's fine, that was years ago anyway. I'm glad we're friends now."
He smirked, "Friend-zoning me on the first date? That's just cruel, sweetheart." You giggled again, and Rooster felt his smile get bigger. He realised he'd never had a date where the conversation flowed so easily, even though this wasn't technically a 'date', he wondered if things would be different if it was.
Your rested your head on his shoulder as the sun began to set, "Wow." you said in awe, "The sunset's beautiful."
Still thinking everything over in his head, Rooster nodded, glancing down at you. He could see the sunset reflected in your eyes and you looked so relaxed, content, "Yeah it is." he muttered, even though the sunset was the last thing on is mind.
A little while later, you'd packed up all the food and walked back to his car. He put the picnic basket on the back seat and opened the door for you again. You'd playfully rolled your eyes at him but said nothing, getting in the car quietly, feeling slightly disappointed the night was almost over.
Rooster noticed himself driving slower than usual on the ride back, trying to soak up all the time with you he had. He tried not to think too much of it, telling himself it was nothing as he arrived at your apartment. He walked you to your door, again insisting it was the 'gentlemanly' thing to do.
"I'm curious," you said, as you both stood in front of your apartment door, "All this tonight, is this actually the kind of thing you do on a first date with a girl?"
Rooster nodded, "A first date is important, sweetheart, I like to make a good impression."
You chuckled, "What about at the end of the night? How does the great 'Bradley Bradshaw' end the perfect first date?"
He smirked, "Well, for starters, I don't kiss on the first date, I wait until at least the second, it's just the way I was raised." he said, taking a step towards you, "but, there is something I do to, uh, leave a lasting impression."
You raised your eyebrows, "Go on."
Bradley smirked, agreeing to show you, "Okay so," he took a small step forward, so the space between you was nearly non-existent, "I gently tuck a piece of hair behind her ear," he said, doing so as he said it, "I look deep into her eyes and then I lean in to whisper," his voice was low as his lips came to your ear, "I had a really good time tonight, I'm hoping you'll let me see you again soon."
He moved back so was looking directly at you, your faces only inches apart, noses almost touching. His eyes felt stuck on yours and he felt this.. tug. Like he could easily just lean in and-
"You are so cheesy!" you giggled, pulling away from him and unlocking your door.
He cleared his throat, snapping out of whatever moment he was having, "It may be cheesy, but trust me, it works."
You rolled your eyes and stood in your door way, "I did have a good night tonight though, so thanks... Bradley. I definitely feel romanced now."
He shook his head slightly, forcing a smile, "No problem, sweetheart. Goodnight."
You smiled and said goodbye, shutting the door behind you as you walked into your apartment. Rooster really had delivered on his promise of the 'perfect first date', even he knew that as he stood looking at your door. He was about to knock, but decided against it, making his way back to his car instead. He didn't even know what he was planning to say, it was that stupid tugging feeling again that had almost overtaken him.
He barely slept that night, his mind was stuck on you and how much fun he'd had. Sure, he been on other dates but this one was so easy. He thought he'd have to force himself to be romantic with you, but in reality, it had felt like second nature to him as soon as he realised that all he wanted was to see you smile. That and the cute little surprised look you'd gotten on your face when you'd seen that he'd brought all your favourite food. Even when you were both singing in the car, he felt himself wishing it was an actual date.
He tossed and turned, thinking back to your time at Top Gun, back to when you two weren't friends. All this time you'd thought he never noticed you, but that was the problem. He had noticed you back then, you were hard to miss, he just couldn't let himself get distracted like that, plus he was still working through all the issues he had, so it was easier for him to not look your way. And now you were just friends. Friends.
It was around 3am when he woke up to a startling thought.
He had wanted to kiss you. He'd been so close until you pulled away and now all he could think about was what it would be like.
Damn.
He was so fucked.
-
Rooster tried to avoid you at work, but that only made him feel worse because he wanted to see you more than anything. You eventually found him at the end of the day anyways, walking up to him with a smile. How had he never noticed how pretty your smile was before. God, he was really spiralling.
"Hey!" you grinned, "I haven't seen you all day!"
"Yeah." he cleared his throat, "Sorry, been busy."
You nodded slowly, but the air felt tense and awkward. "I really enjoyed the other night, you've really opened my eyes, Bradley, or I guess I should get back to calling you Rooster now, right?"
Rooster shrugged, trying to seem as casual as he could, "Yeah.. right."
You smile, "Okay, then Rooster, guess what? I've got another date, and not from Tinder this time."
He stiffened, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, "Oh really?"
You nod, seemingly pleased with yourself, "Yep, it was a real meet-cute too. He helped me reach a top shelf at the supermarket and ended up asking for my number."
Rooster frowned, he didn't want another guy reaching high shelves for you, he could do that just fine. He didn't want you on another date with a guy at all. He really wanted to kick himself, he never would have felt this way if he hadn't taken you out. Then again, the more he thought about it, he'd always had a soft spot for you. Why else would he go out of his way to pick you up on a date night, instead of going out on a date himself. If he wanted to go out with someone, he definitely could, he'd been given enough numbers at the Hard Deck to know that.
He cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from you, "Well, I hope it goes well."
You laughed, "I don't know. You've set the bar way too high now, as soon as he disappoints me, I'm leaving."
Rooster internally hoped he would disappoint you as you said goodbye and walked off down the hall, heading home for the day. A thought came to mind that if you were together, he'd be joining you on your drive home. Maybe you'd both stay up together and watch a movie, order some takeout, then after..
He blinked a few times and shook his head, trying to clear his mind quickly. Once he was home, he had another sleepless night, the thought of you with someone else nagging at him.
-
The night of your big date, Rooster found himself sat with his friends in the Hard Deck, checking his phone every few minutes in case you needed him to pick you up. The longer it took for a text to come, the more riled up he got, wondering if it was going well, if he was going to have to see you both together anytime soon-
"Stop moping." Phoenix chuckled, interrupting his thoughts. He put his phone back in his pocket as she stood in front of him, sipping her beer.
Rooster scoffed, "I'm not moping, I'm fine."
"No, you're not." she smirked, sitting herself down next to him.
"I don't know what's wrong with me, Nat, I should be happy for her but.." he sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, "It doesn't matter anyway, we're just friends."
She snorted, "So you finally realise you have feelings for her but it's too late because she's taken your advice and gone out with a decent guy, you both have really great timing."
Rooster frowned, "What?"
Phoenix put her beer down and faced him, "She had the biggest crush on you in Top Gun, don't tell me you didn't know."
Rooster's eyes widened, "She- No way."
"I can't believe you didn't know!" Phoenix chuckled, "It's just funny, she was convinced you'd never see her like that, I mean, you barely said two words to her our whole time there, and now.."
Rooster groaned, "She had a crush on me all that time and I missed my chance." his face fell into his hands as he mumbled, "I'm such an idiot."
Phoenix rolled her eyes, "Yeah, you are." he lifted his head and looked up at her, "You guys have been walking the line between friends and more than friends for a while now, I don't know how you don't see it, but she has feelings for you Rooster, just like you do for her."
"She's on another date right now with another guy-"
Rooster felt his phone buzz in his pocket.
Hey are you free? Could use some saving right about now.
It was from you. Phoenix read the message over Rooster's shoulder, "Go get your girl."
-
You sat on a bench a few minutes down from the restaurant you'd left. Rooster was on his way, and really this was always the best part of a date for you anyways, joking around with him in the car on the way home. Yet you couldn't help but feel slightly dejected, since you'd really gotten your hopes up for tonight and the guy ended up being exactly like the rest.
You looked up as his bronco stopped in front of you. You were about to stand when the engine switched off and Rooster got out, sitting himself down on the bench beside you.
"You okay?" he asked.
You shrugged and nodded, "I'm fine, guess I just thought he would be different but he wouldn't even look up from his phone." you sighed, "Then he expected me to want to go back to his place, after barely saying two words to me all night! That was when I messaged you."
He nodded, "Good." he cleared his throat, "You had a crush on me back in Top Gun, huh?"
Your eyes went wide, "What? Who told you that?"
He smiled a little, "You know why I wasn't friendly with you back then?" you frowned in confusion as he continued, turning to face you on the bench, "Because when I first saw you, I wanted to ask you out, but I also wanted to be the best, so that had to come first for a while."
"I don't understand," you said, turning to face him too.
He chuckled, his eyes stuck on yours as he tucked a stray hair behind your ear, "I told you, I knew you'd be a distraction."
Your eyes met as you asked, "Wait- You liked me?" Rooster nodded, he was playing with a piece of your hair, twirling it around his finger, "Why are you telling me this now?"
"Because I've realised the crush I had on you never went away, and I've gotten to be the best, so now I wanna tackle the asking you out part." he replied, his hand coming to rest on your cheek.
You raised your eyebrows, smiling a little and leaning into his touch, "The perfect second date?" He nodded as you said, "Okay, Rooster."
He leaned in a little, "I think from now on you should call me Bradley."
You slowly nodded, smiling and muttering, "Okay, Bradley." He smiled back at you, before he leaned in and kissed you gently. His hands travelled from your cheeks down to your waist and his thumb began rubbing circles on your hips. Rooster was in heaven, your kiss every bit as good as he thought it would be.
When you broke away from each other, breathless and red-faced, he tenderly kissed your head. You smiled, "I thought you didn't kiss until the second date."
"If our second date has to be on a random bench for me to finally kiss you, then I'll take it."
#bradley bradsaw x reader#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw fic#rooster imagine#rooster top gun#rooster x reader#rooster x you
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â DECEPTION (VIII)
DECEPTION MASTERLIST
PAIRING â Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader // Adar x fem!Elf!Reader
SUMMARY â Your conversation with Lady Galadriel makes you realise a very difficult truth about the nature of your relationship with Sauron. You wish to keep your dark secret from your husband but you are trying to make him realise that perhaps attacking Eregion might not be the best idea after all.
AUTHORâS NOTE â I could not wait to write this chapter from the very beginning the idea for this fic showed up in my head. Even though the Reader is not really talking much during the scene with Galadriel (it was never my intention for her to talk there much), the conversation she is witnessing makes her realise all the things that make her deeply uncomfortable and cause her whole life's purpose to shatter. đđ˝đđť This fic is slowly coming to an end, by the way.
WARNINGS â forced/arranged marriage, Reader is NOT a good person â she is proud, greedy, fake and corrupted by Sauron, "love" triangle situationship
WORD COUNT â 6,900
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
DECEPTION (VIII)
Everyone knew who Lady Galadriel was. Not just the Elves but nearly every being in Middle-earth, including the Orcs because she had slayed so many of them. In fact, you were sure that some Uruk mothers were telling their children scary stories about Lady Galadriel. Known for carrying so much light and beauty and yet so fiercely determined to purge Middle-earth from all filth. In a way, she reminded you of Sauron in this.
Lady Galadriel was everything you had wished to be back in the day â known, respected, beautiful beyond comparison. Back in the day when you had remained incorrupt by your lover, before you had begun to dream about becoming his terrific Queen and rule alongside him. Now you could not care less about her qualities because you had your own â very often contradicting hers.
You walked together with your husband amongst the Orcs as the night was slowly turning into a foggy day and you could already see Eregion from afar.
The sight alone was gut-twisting to you because you knew that your beloved was there â so close to you. Soon, you would be in his arms as his Queen. No more secrets, no more hiding, no more lies.Â
But when you imagined that, your heart ached for the man walking by your side. What would happen to him then? You were certain Sauron wanted Adar dead but you⌠You did not.
You could never admit it to your lover, though. He was jealous and possessive. It would only make him want Adarâs death even more. And he had other reasons than you â his own revenge. The revenge you craved as well after all. Adar had been the one to take Sauron away from you by killing and humiliating him. He had his own reasons to do it, too, though. The situation between them was very delicate and difficult on many levels.
Your plan had been so easy at first â to play pretend and hand Adar out to Sauron on a silver plate. But your heart â not as rotten as youâd like it to be â kept complicating things.
âHow well do you know Galadriel?â Your husband asked you and you turned your head around to raise an eyebrow.
âNot much personally. I have seen her a few times, talked to her twice maybe, except for the official affairs since I was a daughter of the Lord Guardian of The Southlands. But she mostly resided in the North, therefore there were never many occasions,â you explained. âWhy?â
âI was only wondering if you might be useful when we negotiate with her,â Adar told you and you tilted your head.
âI have a feeling you hide something from me. Why did you even take her as a prisoner?â You furrowed your brows. âYou promised me⌠You promised me that we would be equals and that you would tell me everything,â you reminded him.
Adar stopped walking for a moment and you stopped, too, staring at him and trying to show off your best hurt expression. The Orcs kept passing you by and glancing from the corners of their eyes when your husband extended his hand to hold yours.
âI have no secrets from you,â he assured you. âBut I am so used to loneliness, I forget to share my thoughts often,â he admitted. âGaladriel might be our ally. She is after Sauron, is she not?â He asked and you nodded, squeezing his hand back.
âShe devoted her life to fight him and other forces of darkness,â you replied. âBut we are the very forces of darkness. What makes you think she is going to treat with us?â
âIf she does not, we might use her. It is her who is our prisoner, not the other way around,â Adar smirked and pointed his chin in the direction where he wanted you to follow him â where some of the Orcs were already toying with Lady Galadriel, recently released out of her cage and the others were busy building a war camp for your army to reside.
When you approached them, you spotted GlĂťg holding his dagger close to Galadrielâs face. It suddenly made you realise how you truly became one of them â how it was nearly impossible to imagine any of the Orcs to ever turn against you the same way. From being scared of falling asleep around them, you walked confidently amongst them and you even dared to scold them sometimes as they would look down shyly.
In their eyes, you surely were no Elf anymore â not in the same way Galadriel was.
Adar stopped GlĂťg by putting his hand on the Orcâs arm and shaking his head as GlĂťg walked away, a little frustrated. Lady Galadrielâs beautiful, bright eyes found yours and she seemed to be pretty fascinated. Therefore, you straightened your back.
And after a very short while of holding each otherâs gazes, she suddenly took out a dagger that had been hidden discreetly in her sleeve and pointed it at your husband. The Orcs around you groaned at that as they became alarmed and so did you â you let out a small yelp as your heart skipped a beat and your hand already grabbed the hilt of your sword. Even though you knew that you would never be an opponent worthy enough of her when it came to sword duels.
Galadriel turned around, moving Adar alongside her. And now her blade was pressed to his neck as GlĂťg jumped in front of you to cover you with his own body just in case.
Yes, you were definitely one of them now. Your light was all gone, your blood turned black and your skin turned cold. Valinor was awaiting you no more.
âI brought you here not as a prisonerâŚâ Adar turned his face around to look at Galadriel as he spoke in the Sindarin language, âbut as a potential ally for we share a common enemy.â
After a while of hesitation, Galadrielâs surprised eyes found yours behind GlĂťg. You nodded at her as if you were more trustworthy than your husband â in fact, you were less. But she did not know that and she still must have considered you to be sort of a friend. A friend enough to let go of Adar as the Orcs calmed down and you ran up to your husband to put your hands on his chest and cling to him, grateful that he was still in one piece. You knew how fierce Galadriel could be.
Adar caressed your back soothingly and you could feel her eyes on you, probably wondering about the nature of your relationship.Â
âLady Galadriel, please, feel yourself invitedâŚâ Adar pointed at the biggest tent that had already been there, waiting for you two to sleep in. âLet us talk,â he added and you watched her hesitantly go inside.
Your husband followed and you began walking right after when you felt a strong pull towards Eregion. You turned around rapidly and kept staring at the forest, knowing very well that behind them the city stood and inside the city there he was â Sauron. Looking out and sensing your presence, looking out for you. You smiled to yourself and focused all your will and might to let him know that you were close and you would be reunited soon.
And with a heart so full of love for him and a brand new inspiration to carry on with your plan, you finally joined Adar and Galadriel inside the tent.
They were sitting on the opposite sides of the table as some female Orcs were bringing you food. It was a small feast in a way and you knew it was Adarâs way to make Galadriel feel like your guest indeed. You took a seat next to him and put a small portion on your plate before beginning to eat it. Adarâs portion was much bigger than yours but Galadrielâs was none. Her plate remained empty and she just kept sitting there and staring at the two of you, which was awkward in a way but you tried to ignore her.
You wondered if Sauron knew about her. Was she also a part of his plan or was she an obstacle he had no idea of? You could not decide for yourself, therefore, for now, you decided to just sit there and observe how the situation would evolve.
Eventually, she just could not hold herself back no more as she addressed you.
âLady (Y/N) of The Southlands⌠Your mother arrived in Lindon some time ago,â Galadriel spoke and you looked up at her, immediately. The mention of your mother made your heart clench.
âThen you must be surprised to see me,â you smirked, âfor I have instructed her to speak of me as dead.â
âOn the contrary,â Galadriel raised an eyebrow at you in a challenging manner and you furrowed your brows. âShe has told the High King everything.â
You clenched your jaw and gritted your teeth, nervously looking at Adar but he only nodded at you to calm you down and soothe you.
âThen you know what treachery my father was capable of,â you answered, avoiding her gaze. You did not want her to see the betrayal you felt after your motherâs broken promise.
âAnd what treachery you were capable of as well,â Galadriel nodded.
âMy mother blames me for the fall of Ostirith, but I had no idea of it. It was no scheme of mine,â you finally met her gaze again. This time you didnât care if she could see the pain on your face or not because it was too big to hide it anyway. âWhy can she not trust her own daughter?â
âShe loves you but she does not believe you,â Galadriel informed you. âShe revealed to the High King that there had been something rotten about you for a while now. Ever since you had returned from Eregionââ
âStop it!â You banged your fist on the table, angrily.
âBe at ease, she is provoking you,â Adarâs voice was calm as he put his hand on your arm to give you comfort. Then he shot Galadriel a glance.
You nodded at your husband and relaxed, which made her roll her eyes a bit.
âYou seem to quite fit in. Even the sword you carry is Morgothâs,â Galadriel pointed out.
âI had to fit in to survive. Something a grand lady like you has never known and will never know,â you remarked.
Adar seemed to be a little frustrated with your girly chit-chat as he leaned back on his chair and sighed. He raised a hand to shush you both since he wanted to finally speak of the matters that were the most important to him.
âWe must not argue now,â he reminded you two and then, after a short while of silence, he looked at Galadriel. âDuring my brief time in your capture, you seemed intent on finding Sauron. One might even say, consumed by it,â he told her and Galadriel looked down.
You leaned back on your chair as well, with your hands clasped on your abdomen as you observed her reactions.Â
âThe way one always is, once he has wormed his way inside your mind,â Adar kept talking and his eyes were on Galadriel. Her own eyes were rather glancing down, avoiding his gaze. Therefore, your own eyes were allowed to wander and for that you were grateful. His words about your beloved were making you feel deeply uncomfortable.
âYou know nothing of my mind,â Galadriel replied to that and a smug expression lit up her face. âYou yielded to him. I resisted.â
Resisted?
You swallowed a lump in your throat. What was she talking about? Since when was she ever so close to Sauron to be offered anything from him? Back in the First Age, the only time Galadriel had been mentioned by your lover was when he had been complaining about the Elven armies to you. She had never been any part of his plans â except for the one to get rid of her for once and for all.Â
And yes, you were aware that Galadriel had been the one to spend time with Halbrand in NĂşmenor but you had never seen her as anything else but his tool. Was it possible that there had been more depth to their relationship? That he had shown her his soul and offered her a piece of it?
Did his soul not belong to you wholly?
âFor a while, perhaps,â Adar remarked in a whisper. âBut sooner or later, he sees you. Not just who you are, but who you wish to be,â he added and you clenched your jaw as you looked down to stare at your fingers.
You began to fidget with them nervously while you remembered your first meeting with Sauron. How luring and tempting he had been, how he had seemed to know perfectly well what had been your desires. And he had promised you to fulfil them all.
âHis eyes bore a hole and the rest of him slithers in,â Adar kept talking and at that moment, his voice was starting to make you sick. It was becoming too much to hear all these things.
He had known Sauron â he had known him better than you in lots of ways. You were no young Elf but your husband was much older and he had known Sauron for a time much longer than you. They had fought together for Morgoth and then for themselves. The only thing you had been doing was warming your loverâs bed and listening to his sweet nothings.
And that⌠That was enough to make you become obsessed with him. To make you yearn for him each day and each night of your separation. To make you abandon all else â because only Sauron mattered.
âFor a while, he even makes you believe that his power has become yours,â Adar kept his monologue and you took a deep breath. As you raised your chin, you spotted the look on Galadrielâs faceâŚ
The look that made you realise what the nature of her relationship with Sauron had to beâŚ
You felt dizzy but you managed to keep an emotionless face on even though your mind began to drift away and get foggy.
âIrresistible power⌠that makes every desireâs fulfilment seem inevitable,â Adar smirked as he had noticed Galadrielâs facial expression as well. âAn ocean of colour against which everything else feels forever thereafterââ
âA dull grey,â Galadriel admitted and you regretted eating your meal in an instant when the anxiety squeezed your stomach and you felt even more sick now.
It was her confession and the both of you knew it. You watched Adarâs face change its expression in an instant as he realised he had found an ally in her indeed â that they had both been deceived by Sauron in the past.
And you were sitting there, too. Like a fool.
âWhat did he promise you?â Adar asked Galadriel.
âAn army,â she lied. Her eyes glistened and she shook her head and you knew â you just knew â that she lied.
You knew because you knew what it meant to love and trust Sauron. You knew what he was doing to a woman he had such a strong effect on and what it was like to share a bond with him. And all these things, you could see in her now, too.
It felt like a punch right into your gut, piercing you through and through, leaving you behind to bleed out slowly, drop by drop.
Was it possible that your lover⌠Your one and only, your whole purpose in life, your dream, your master, your King⌠That he was merely using you?
That you were nothing but one of many other women he had been finding a use for? And if Lady Galadriel was one of them â the Lady of Light â what chances did you stand? What was giving you any guarantee that it was her he had been deceiving and you that he had been genuine with?
The chances were zero.
Your whole world crumbled down in an instant and you could not let it show. You closed your eyes for a longer while and tried to focus on your fastened heartbeat instead.
âDo you want to know what he offered me?â Adar inquired.
âI care not,â Galadriel admitted.
âChildren,â your husband answered anyway.
And how pure his wishes and desires seemed to be compared to you. You had been greedy, you had made Sauron promise you to make you his Queen. You had wanted to be worshipped and admired.
But now you were not so sure. Having a taste of it by being the Dark Lady of Mordor was truly making you realise what a burden and responsibility it was to lead others. Sometimes being Adarâs wife and watching over the Orcs seemed to be more than enough.
And then Sauron would slip back into your mind again⌠And you would be reminded once more what a great power you could have if you only dared to unleash it.
âThen it would seem he gave us both what we desired,â Galadriel pointed out.
âYou see, it is not his lies which must be extinguished. It is him and I can help you do it,â Adar admitted and you felt a shiver go down your spine.
Despite everything you had just found out, you still felt awful whenever the possibility of Sauronâs death was being mentioned.
âI can help you destroy Sauron,â your husband leaned in over the table to reach Galadriel more effectively.
âWhat help could you possibly provide, Orc?â She snapped at him and it finally gave you an opportunity to glance at her with all your anger and jealousy that you had been feeling for a while now.
You had never cared much about that slur until now â because in her lips it sounded just so awful.
âUruk,â you finally spoke, interrupting them as they both looked at you surprised. Whether they were shocked by the fact that you cared or they simply forgot you were there with them â you did not care.
You did not care about anything anymore. Your whole life, your whole love and devotion, your whole sacrifice â they might have been a lie. How could you care about anything or anyone?
Adar stood up and briefly caressed your cheek with his finger as he walked away from the table to approach the wooden chest with Morgothâs crown. He took it out to show it off to Galadriel and as he walked towards her with the item, she seemed to be startled by its darkness.
âMorgothâs crown⌠I was toldââ
âThere are many stories of what happened, after the Silmarils were pried from its settings. But I was there when Sauron re-fired it to fit himself,â Adar confessed and you kept listening as your lips nervously twitched and formed a sad smile as silent and dry tears streamed down your cheeks â they were invisible but you could feel that you were on the verge of crying. âI was there when he kneeled to be crowned and I was the one who used its power to slay him,â Adar continued his story.
Each time you were told it or you thought of it, you relieved it in your mind. You had not been there but you had enough imagination to see it with your eyes. And each time your heart weeped for your betrayed lover but it seemed to weep no more⌠Because you were a betrayed lover now.
Adar put the crown on the table in front of Galadriel and you looked down, hoping they would forget about your existence once more.
âIf what you say is true, why did he return?â Galadriel asked.
Exactly. Why?
Until now, you had foolishly been thinking that perhaps you were one of the reasons. That the very thought of you had been keeping him strong. He had even mentioned such things when you had reunited with him in Mordor for a brief moment.
But now you could see it even more clearly â how cold and distant he had been to you while you had been the one to devour him after centuries of separation. Oh, what a fool you had been and how you had humiliated yourselfâŚÂ
âBecause I had not yet found you,â Adar addressed Galadriel and you looked up angrily. You did not like his choice of words.
âWhat part am I to play in this?â Galadriel asked.
âIt is said that the Three Elven Rings saved your kind from fading,â Adar told her. âIs it true?â
You wondered that, too. You had been with him when you both had received such ânewsâ or rather âgossipâ as you had thought of it back then. Lady Galadriel refused to answer, though, as she looked away.
âIf it is, then perhaps together, this crown and your Rings would be powerful enough to truly destroy Sauron forever,â Adar informed her.
And once again you were torn â because even if it was true that Sauron had been using you and only that⌠If he was to be defeated, your whole life would lose its purpose. You had abandoned the Valar for him â your new and only god. If he truly stopped existing, a part of you would die with him surely. The part you had given away to him freely â nearly all of you.
âThe Deceiver believes he is still beyond my grasp,â Adar continued, âbut I know he hides in Eregion and I suspect you know for certainâŚâ He hesitated with a smirk. âHalbrand is Sauron, isn't he?â He asked and you felt your blood turn even colder when you realised that your husband had seen through your loverâs disguise.
You had a feeling in your gut that he did but he had never told you anything about it, so you were hopeful it was only you being paranoid. But now, you were anxious again that he had seen through you as well.
Galadriel did not answer but what you saw on her face only proved to you once more that she loved the human king â one of your loverâs forms.
âThe fate of that city now rests on your ability to put aside your pride,â Adar crouched down to look more intensely at Galadrielâs face. âI suggest you find the will to do so⌠If you can,â he added with contempt before standing up to take away Morgothâs crown.
He returned to her to put her wrist in a shackle because she could not be trusted after her stunt with the dagger before but also â despite his sweet assurances â she was your prisoner.
âWe will speak again,â your husband told her and offered you his hand to help you stand and leave with him but you shook your head. Adar nodded and left you two alone.
Long while of silence occurred between you two, in which you were debating with yourself on how much to reveal.
âAn army,â you mocked her and she furrowed her brows at you. âHe promised you to be his Queen,â you added and finally stood up to leave the table even though your legs were weak and trembling, which you managed to hide. You approached Galadriel slowly and leaned in to be face-to-face with the most beautiful of the Elven women.
âYou reek of an Orc,â she pointed out and you laughed at that. It was nearly adorable how she was trying to change the subject.Â
And, you had to admit, the only good thing coming out of this whole situation was to have her at your mercy. To toy with her was your greatest pleasure â to feel in control and to feel even more powerful. There was a time you had wanted to impress her but now you were disgusting her and it brought you nothing but satisfaction.
âHow can you know anyway?â She asked as she met your gaze eventually, after a while of feeling your intense eyes on her and realising you were not willing to change the subject at all.
âI am gifted with an extraordinary intuition,â you teased. âOh, how pathetic you must feel now⌠To know that Sauron himself offered you to be his Queen and you considered it for a while. What does that make you? Do you think you are worthy of all your titles now, Lady of Light?â You asked with contempt.
âAnd were you not offered the same?â Galadriel asked and your heart skipped a beat as your smirk froze. Did sheâŚ? Did she knowâŚ?
âWhat are you talking about?!â You barked at her, angrily, as you straightened your back.
âAdar,â she explained and you breathed out of relief. âDid he not promise you the crown? You accepted it. How does that make you feel? What does it make you?â
âHe does not wish to be a King and I do not aspire to be a Queen by his side,â you informed Galadriel, which was no lie. âWhat we wish for is a home. You can pretend to be so righteous and strong amongst your kin, Lady Galadriel, but you and I know how weak you truly are,â you smirked and left the tent.
It was suffocating you at this point. The air inside of it, her intense gaze, the words spoken. You wanted to breathe in the forest and gather your thoughts because there were so many as your heart was broken into a million pieces.
You stared once more at the trees, in the direction of Eregion, and you wanted to reach out to Sauron but he was not answering, probably too busy with his schemes. The fact was â he never answered your calls. If there were any glimpses of the connection between your minds, it was always him initiating it.
âWhat are you thinking of?â You heard Adarâs voice behind you as he put his arm on your shoulder. âYou seem to be upset.â
âI⌠I think we should go back home,â you turned around to face him now instead of the trees, Eregion and Sauron inside of it. And at the sight of Adarâs scarred face, your heart suddenly filled in with warmth.
âWhat do you mean?â Your husband furrowed his brows. âWere you not the one convincing me eagerly about marching to Eregion with our army?â
âYes, but I am not so sure anymore. Please, trust my gut. Something has changed, I am not sure⌠I have a bad feeling,â you grabbed him by his sleeves as you clenched your fists around the fabric, desperately. Your eyes were looking up to meet his blue ones in a pleading manner and he was staring at you with so much devotion that you were sure he still had no idea of who you truly were despite finding out the truth about Halbrand.
Perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps it should stay this way. You wanted to go back to Mordor â to that godforsaken place you had turned into your new home recently. You wanted to live in peace and safety there alongside Adar. And you were not even sure if Sauron would ever come looking for you. He would eventually show up to get his revenge and his army but perhaps you would be able to prepare for it in time. But you doubted he would come there for you.
âI know the vision of this battle is unsettling to you,â Adar cupped your face gently, âand that you wish to be back home â so do I. We shall,â he nodded. âWe shall go home but not until Sauron is defeated,â he reminded you and you smiled sadly.
It was a trap and you could not make him see it⌠You would have to reveal your part in it for him to realise it and that was something you were not ready for. So, instead, you went for something else.
âCan you hold me?â You asked and Adar was a little surprised but he did not say anything. âI want to feel safe.â
âOf course,â he nodded and wrapped his arms around you. You clinged to him like a little girl, wishing that you could freeze time.
To beg and plead for Adar to turn his army back after all the weeks of convincing him that it had been a good idea to march towards Eregion would be highly suspicious now. But you knew that the game was over anyway â it was too late to make him realise it was a trap without telling him the truth. And perhaps even after finding out about your purpose by his side, he would still decide to attack the Elven city.
You spent a whole day wandering around the forest nearby the camp. You found a tree that had fallen over and you sat under it, feeling the grass under your hands. In a way, you wished you had not found out the truth about being Sauronâs puppet â most likely.
Most likely, because you wanted to believe â you truly did â that his devotion and love towards you were true. However, if you started to believe that, wouldnât that make you an even bigger fool?
You had ruined your maidenhood, your family and your home for him. And now you would ruin your new family, too. You would hand him out Adar to be killed and his children to become Sauronâs slaves. And what would you get in return? A dagger in your back since you would not be useful anymore? Or a crown? Would he truly give you any real power?
You were not even so sure if you wanted it, after all.
Tears streamed down your cheeks. Real, genuine tears. Because, for the first time in a long while, you did not know what to do â until now you had been waiting for Sauron, living for Sauron, worshipping Sauron. And now you were stripped of your faith and of your god but you still remained his servant. How could you stop it? You couldnât even pray to the Valar anymore to help you â they would not listen to a fallen Elf.
When you heard a noise behind you, you suspected it would be Adar. But no, it was GlĂťg. You quickly sniffled your tears back and wiped your cheeks before cracking a smile at him.
âMy Lady?â He asked, unsurely as he tilted his head at the sight of your tears.
âYes, Uruk?â You asked him, trying to hide the deep amount of your sadness.
âLord Father is looking for you,â he told you and you nodded before getting up and approaching him to go back to the camp.
âIt is a pretty area of the forest, is it not?â You tried to ask him while pretending to be cheerful.
âI guess,â he shrugged his arms. He kept staring at you intensely with his small eyes. âWhy are you sad, Dark Lady?â
âI already mourn all the Uruks that will die in the upcoming battle,â you smiled sadly at him.
How easy it was to spit out such soothing lies. It was not like you didnât care what would happen to them â you had grown used to being around them. But it was also not like you truly mourned for them. However, such a lie rolled off of your tongue without much thought put into it.
Sauron had taught you well. But this time you felt bad about it instead of being proud about it.
GlĂťg nodded his head at you, sadly. That was when you entered the camp again and you spotted Adar amongst his children, explaining something to them. You ran up to him and wrapped your hands around his arm. He smiled adoringly at you.
âCome with me, let me show you,â you tried to convince him and you could see him hesitate. There was not much time to waste but he eventually agreed with a sigh and allowed you to walk him out of the camp.
You were starting to become his weakness.
You took him back to where GlĂťg had found you. It was truly a very beautiful place in the forest; so green and calm. The light was creeping in through the trees and you smiled at your husband as you caressed his cheeks and brushed his hair strands behind his pointy ears.
âSomething about you in this light makes me believe I could truly be good once again,â Adar whispered to you in the Quenya language and you felt your heart clench inside your chest.
How could you betray him�
âDamn the good. And damn the evil. Let us just be ourselves,â you answered. âLet us go homeâŚâ
âYou know that we cannot. Not until he is no more,â your husband carefully and gently held your wrists to lower them away from his face. He placed soft kisses upon the palms of your hands and caressed them.
âWhy do we have to come for him? Why can he not come for us? We could fight him in our own land, on our own terms,â you tried to convince him. âYou know that this feeling in my gut⌠It is never wrong.â
âYet it often changes its mind,â Adar smirked at that and you sighed.
You even opened your mouth, gathering courage to confess the truth in this beautiful place but the moment you were about to admit your sins, the very same courage abandoned you.
âIt is beautiful here and I know you yearn for peace but we must go back,â Adar let go of one of your hands to caress your cheek with his rough fingertips. âYou are the most beautiful lady in all Middle-earth,â he added in the Quenya language and you furrowed your brows at that when you began walking back to the camp.
âWhere did it come from?â You asked with a nervous chuckle.
âI could sense your jealousy when I spoke with Lady Galadriel,â he answered. âAs if her beauty could ever match yours.â
âYou must be blind then, my poor Adar. She is known for being the fairest of the Elven ladies,â you shook your head but a playful sparkle lit up your eyes.
âThat is an easy kind of beauty and I do not seek easiness in anything,â your husband answered with all seriousness.
And the thing with Adar was that you just knew that his words were genuine and they were not prepared beforehand with some hidden agenda.
It was dark already when Adar and you were informed that Lady Galadriel was ready to speak again. You went back inside your tent where she had been kept for a whole day and you stood in front of her, still sitting on the chair.
âYes. Halbrand is Sauron,â Galadriel started as the silence was growing heavy between you all. Your jaw twitched slightly as it clenched at her words. âHeâs in Eregion to craft Rings that will allow him to dominate my kind. And yours.â
âEvery kind in Middle-earth,â Adar added.
âBut he will not attempt escape until his task is complete,â Galadriel laid her eyes upon you now. âAnd that gives us a momentary advantage.â
âUs?â You raised an eyebrow at her
Galadriel moved her hand in shackles and looked back at your husband, angrily.
âUnlock me,â she ordered.
Adar looked at you and you nodded at him even though you were not sure if it was a good idea to do so. He approached her to unchain her and she kept glancing at him with a mix of anger but also curiosity.
âAs we speak, Elrond hastens from Lindon with an army of Elves,â she revealed. âAnd Nenya â my Ring.â
âI see,â Adar turned around to join your side again.
âOnce he arrives, he will seal off the city,â Galadriel stood up as she spoke, âloose Celebrimbor from Sauronâs grasp, and then together, Uruks, you and I will eradicate all trace of Sauron from this world. Never to return,â she finished.
Uruks. You had been told by her or by your lover that you reeked of them. But you had never been called one.
âAnd what then?âAdar asked.
âAny Rings that have known his touch must be destroyed,â Galadriel stated.
âI meant, what then for the Uruk?â Adar furrowed his brow. âWill your High King permit us to return home in peace? Or will he proceed with his plans to invade Mordor?â He asked and Galadriel did not answer because what could she possibly tell? She was known to be an Orc-slayer. âThe shadow has not only overcome you, it has overcome all Elvendom. In the end, your drive to prove your virtue will work right into Sauronâs designs.â
âYou speak lies,â Galadriel shook her head as she spoke through gritted teeth. âHoping I will reveal something.â
âYou have already revealed everything I hoped you would and more,â Adar answered calmly and walked out of the tent.
He did not even look at you because he was so focused on the battle that was to come â he had his confirmation about Halrand being Sauron. About him being in Eregion. Now he was an unstoppable force.
âAdarâŚâ You called out for him but he was out of the tent already.
You looked at Galadriel with a sigh before gathering your skirts and rushing out after him. So did she.
âIt is time!â Your husband announced in Black Speech to his children. You were pretty fluent in this language by now.Â
âAll of Eregion may well be under Sauronâs control by now,â Galadriel was trying to make him realise the truth. âIt will take far more than a legion of your children to lay siege to it!â
But Adar was leading her to the edge of the hill from where the real power of your army could be seen. The truth be told â most of the Orcs had left Mordor to march towards Eregion. You had been the one insisting on that back in the day.
âDid you really think I would attempt to challenge the might of Sauron with a single legion?â Adar asked and stopped as he looked down at your soldiers below the hill. You stood behind him and you had to admit â the view was admirable and was filling you with pride. However, you knew very well that those poor and filthy creatures were being led into a trap.
âNow that you have confirmed beyond any doubt who he is and told me who carries your Ring, Eregion will fall,â Adar turned his head around to look at Galadriel with a smirk. âAnd Sauron with it.â
âNoâŚâ Galadriel looked down, visibly overthinking something. âThis must be what he wants. Sauron has no army of his own, so heâs lured yours here instead,â she laid her eyes upon Adar as your heart skipped a beat.
She even found your eyes, too, as if she was trying to make you see the truth your husband could not. She was able to see the treachery but she still could not see the deceiver. You suddenly realised Halbrandâs task had not been very difficult.
âHe wants you to attack Eregion,â she added but you remained still. It would be suspicious to agree with her words eagerly but you hoped she would make Adar change his mind. After all, he wanted to protect his children the most.
âBind her. She will be useful later,â he ordered instead and three Orcs hurried to your side to grab Galadriel.
Of course. The love he had for his children would always be overshadowed by his hatred towards Sauron. His personal revenge, his own retribution.
âI beg youâŚâ Galadriel addressed Adar but he ignored her so she laid her eyes upon you. âDo not let your husband be a fool! Do not do this! Do not take his lure!â
Her desperate words and her behaviour as she was being dragged away by the Orcs were sending a shiver down your spine because you could see yourself in her â you could see yourself doing the same to protect him but you could not.
You were terrified of Adarâs reaction after finding out the truth about you. He would never trust you again.
And, after all, Sauronâs grasp around your heart was still tight and painful. Perhaps you were only a tool in his scheme but you still did not wish for his downfall or his death.
âI will make him choke on it,â Adar remarked.
âNo!â Galadriel shouted. âYou mustnât. This is all his design! This is what Sauron wants! Whatever forces were encouraging you to come here were his!â
You looked away, nervously.
Thankfully, your husband was too occupied with his thirst for the battle to truly think about Galadrielâs words. She had no idea, of course, that it had been you encouraging Adar to march with his armies towards Eregion. But she had said one sentence too much.
GlĂťg handed Adar a war horn but he did it hesitantly, causing his Lord Fatherâs impatience. The Orc was visibly worried and startled by Galadrielâs screams and warnings.
Adar was not, however. He blew the horn and a malicious feeling filled your heart â there was no way back.
Your betrayal was definite as you had just brought Sauron his army.
MASTERLIST
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My Top Damien Quotes
i want him to chuck a water bottle at me âĽď¸
âYou are a person that is overflowing with love to give, and that is not too much, that is fucking beautiful.â
âIâm not going to get mad, I just want to know who did this to you.â
âMy fire is a part of me.â
âI can do good. Thatâs all I want to do. I want to help.â
âNow who whimpers?â
âWell if you four would stop teasing me, I could stop doing my best impression of a furnace.â
âI have never felt more flaccid in my entire life.â
âOh, he thinks Iâm funny when Iâm mad? Huxley has no idea what I look like when Iâm mad.â
âCâmon nature boy, letâs get natural.â
âHandsome man [heâs saying this with a :3 on his face you canât convince me otherwise]â
âHuxley, I need you.â
âI want all this anger to mean something.â
âI can walk.â
âYouâre always so gentle with me. With everything. I-Iâm not used to that.â
âBody like yours needs a little worship, you know?â
âYeah. Iâm fine⌠Iâm freaking out.â
âA-are you gonna serve, or what? [heâs too busy gawking at Huxleyâs muscles to realise heâs holding the ball himself, not Hux]â
âThe rolls arenât aerodynamic enough. I canât get enough speed behind them.â
âHuxley seems to think threats are a way I express love.â
âWho. Was. It?â
âIâve gotten pretty good at screaming at walls.â
âYou remember that positive outlook when youâre ripping out your happy trail trying to get dried cum out of it.â
âI spent a lot of nights thinking about all the stuff this body of yours could do.â
âHey. I donât just care about it as a morally wrong action for the sake of it. I care about you. Youâre my friend. A good one. And my friend is hurting, and I can do something about it, so Iâm going to.â
âYou are the person I choose. And Iâm so fucking grateful that youâve chosen me.â
âHe [Huxley] does make it hard to get mad at him, even when he is doing something asinine. Itâs like trying to stay mad at a puppy. Just doesnât feel right.â
âThe bearâs cute⌠For the record though, youâre the only teddy bear I need.â
âIâm made of tough stuff too Hux⌠and I like it roughâŚâ
âAll I can think about is worshipping this incredible body of yours.â
âItâs all yours.â
âGod I love how big your hands are.â
âI donât whimper [proceeds to whimper]⌠only with you.â
âPick me up. Turn us around. Press me into the wall. And fuck me.â
âYeah weâll see how great you think I look when I set your hair on fire.â
âJust because I usually want you to top, doesnât mean I donât love your ass.â
âI wanna feel every fucking inch of this monster.â
âUgh I laid down on your cum and Iâm pretty sure weâre glued together now.â
âAll mine huh?â
âHuxley. Fuck me. I wanna cum with your cock buried inside me all the way to the base.â
âIâll trade you goofballs.â
âCute glasses.â
Honourable Mentions (Non-Canon)
âIâve had friends before. Iâve never had a friend that I felt as close to as I do to you.â
âYou feel good. Except your hairâs trying to go up my nose.â
âFuck. God, you drive me crazy with just a touch. Just a look, honestly.â
âNow gimme.â
âIf you wanna know which one Iâd prefer, ask me. Directly.â
âDo you think this is what they meant when they say âLight a fire under your assâ?â
âYes, Iâd say my fire likes you very much.â
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Mistletoe
non-idol!Felix x gn!Reader
warnings: none!
genre: fluff
word count: around 700
author's note: it's november but the first christmas markets are gonna go up at the end of the month in my country and it's already affecting me. hope you enjoy this, it's just a quick silly one! <3
masterlist
divider by @firefly-graphics
You couldnât take your eyes off him. The way the lights reflected off his eyes, making them sparkle and glitter in the dark. His freckles like little galaxies dancing around on his cheeks, painted a cute soft red by the cold. Surrounded by countless flickering lights and beautiful decorations, your focus was always drawn to the prettiest thing around you: your boyfriend Felix.
His smile was infectious as he sipped on his hot chocolate, yapping away about something where you realised you tapped out of the conversation a while ago, mesmerised by how beautiful he looked even while doing the mundanest things like sitting at the corner of a Christmas market with you.
â-and I already have an idea of what to get Seungmin for Christmas.â
âIt canât be worse than whatever Minho has planned to torment everyone with, so I think youâre safe. Youâre a great gift giver, Lixieâ â you told him, hoping that it wasnât too obvious you didnât catch half of his sentence.
You leaned more into his side, trying your best to initiate some form of physical contact. With you and Felix both bundled up in several layers, both sporting thick gloves and fitting beanies, it was as good as impossible to get any skinship while you were out and about, so this would have to do.
âYou think they have a mistletoe somewhere around here?â â he suddenly quips, looking around the plaza.
âAre you that eager to kiss me in public?â â you giggle and take his gloved hand awkwardly into yours, intertwining your fingers to the best of your ability.
âSo what if I am?â â he playfully pouts in return and squeezes your hand.
You bumped your shoulder into his and moved to get up from the little bench the two of you were situated on.
Realising that you were going to indulge his request, Felix beamed up at you, smiling that bright teethy smile of his that almost triggered your cuteness aggression into overdrive.
Hand in hand the two of you wandered around the plaza before finally spotting a stand that had a mistletoe hanging from a wooden beam. With a hop in your step, Felix and you skipped towards the little wooden hut full of giggles, excitement bubbling up in your chests.
It was silly to get this excited over a simple mistletoe kiss but with Felix by your side, even the smallest things seemed to spark unbridled joy in your heart, which was thumping happily in anticipation.
As you stood on either side of the mistletoe, grinning from ear to ear, his arms found their way around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His soft lips found yours in an instant, kissing you like it was the last kiss he was going to get in a while.
Little fireworks exploded in your chest as they always do when you get to kiss your sunshine and you smile against his lips before the two of you parted, your forehead leaned against his.
âPeople are staringâ â you giggled and poked his side, which in turn made him giggle and twist his body away from your attack.
âTheyâre just jealous.â
âJealous of me, maybe.â
âHey! Do you want me to start listing all the things I love about you again?â
âAnd have me cry in the middle of a Christmas market?â
âYou know Iâll do it. So! First thing-â
âAlright! I get it! You can stop!â â you hastily placed your hand over his mouth before he could make you cry of happiness and love for real, laughing over his competitiveness at who loves the other more.
It was getting awkward with all the people looking in your direction, so you decided to call it a day and trudge home.
Soft, joyful days like these were always a blessing with Felix and made you wonder what you did in your previous life to deserve him. He could always manage to make you laugh, smiling brighter than all the Christmas lights combined.
You were sure that as long as you had him, you never needed another Christmas present again if it meant you could spend your days with him.
#felix x reader#lee felix x reader#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#felix fluff#lee felix#stray kids#felix#skz felix#stray kids felix#felix x you#felix x y/n#stray kids fluff#skz fluff#lee felix scenarios#lee felix imagines#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#skz scenarios
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Madam Puddifoots - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 636
Remus didn't know how it had happened. But he had suddenly found himself on what, to all outward appearances, looked like a date with Sirius Black.
He should have been more careful. A trip to Hogsmeade this close to a full moon could bring added complications. When he'd woken up that morning his head had already been swimming, and there was the tell-tale queasiness in the pit of his stomach that had made breakfast impossible to eat.
Peter had asked him if he was okay. James had offered to stay back to keep him company. But Remus had rallied, insisting he was fine, convincing the others if not quite himself that fresh air and distraction would do him the world of good.
He had very quickly realised, however, that this had been a mistake. James and Peter had dashed off to Zonkos but Sirius had hung back, his watchful eyes on Remus as Remus, out of breath and light headed, suddenly found himself leaning against a gatepost to keep himself upright.
"I knew I shouldn't have listened," Sirius said as he dashed over and placed a steadying arm about Remus' shoulder. Remus gave a thin smile. "You've always been a terrible liar."
"I'll be fine," Remus insisted breathlessly. Sirius rose an eyebrow, unconvinced. "I'll be better soon. I just need some-"
"Tea," Sirius finished, knowing Remus' tendency to imbue his favourite infusion, spiked with honey, with magical, restorative properties that the Muggle version definitely didn't possess.
Sirius took over, steering Remus down the path with single-minded determination. Only when they were outside Madam Puddifoot's did Remus hesitate, his eyes moving from couple to couple inside the tea shop, as he said, "We can't go in here."
"Why not?" Sirius asked.
Remus looked at the chintz curtains, the wallpaper with enchanted roses that bloomed as you looked at them, and the couples hand in hand across the tables.
"Well...I...it's..."
"You need tea. This place serves tea." Sirius opened the gate and jostled Remus through it.
There were two tables outside that were already occupied, but the last one had just become free. Sirius steered Remus towards it, and Remus had to conceed he was happy to sit down as Sirius sat opposite and opened the menu.
"Now, what shall we get? You'll want tea, of course. Disgusting stuff if you ask me. Don't they serve coffee? And you should probably eat. Something sweet but simple. I saw you didn't eat anything at breakfast. What's good here, do you think?"
Sirius was speaking fast and had waved over a waitress who had been watching them with interest before he'd placed an order. Tea. And cake. And a few scones. That was sure to sort things.
Remus was keenly aware of all the eyes upon them. He could feel himself turning pink, his embarrassment at least a distraction from the faintness that seemed to be subsiding.
Sirius had leant back in his chair and had noticed Remus' discomfort.
"What's the matter?" Sirius asked as the tea arrived.
"They're staring," Remus said.
"Who?" Sirius ignored the tea and started in on the cake.
Remus nervously cleared his throat. "Everyone."
For the first time Sirius looked around them, his eyes moving from couple to couple, before he gave a sharp bark of laughter.
"Honesty, Moony, anyone would think you're embarrassed to be seen with me."
"I'm not-"
"I'll have you know there are a great number of girls who'd be thrilled to join me for tea at Madam Puddifoot's."
"You'd best find one of those to keep you company then," Remus shot back, his humour returning as his nausea subsided.
Sirius cocked an eyebrow. Remus raised his cup.
"Feeling better I take it?" Sirius said.
"Much." Remus returned.
Sirius smiled, shook his head, and said, "That's good. Now drink your tea."
#wolfstar#remus lupin#mauraders#the marauders#remus x sirius#marauders era#sirius black#dead gay wizards#wolfstar microfic#wolfstar microfiction#wolfstargazer microfiction#wolfstargazer microfic#clare mansfield microfiction#clare mansfield microfic#madam puddifoots
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Knight in shining armor
Summary: Readers car breaks down on the road and her friend Max picks her up.
Writers comment: Sorry for the inactivity, I had one of my wisdom teeth pulled and developed dry socket lol rip
Warnings: Some fluff
Word count: 2k
You had spent the last week away for a holiday with your family. You lived in Monaco while your family still resided in your home country. You had barely graduated college when you decided to work abroad. Living away from your family was tough, but the week after you moved in, as you walked home, you stopped by the harbour and that's where you met him. Max Verstappen. He was handsome and had the finest smile you'd ever seen. Stating that you fell for him then and there would be an overstatement but you felt something in your heart.
You thought you recognised his face but couldn't place him. When he laid his eyes on you, on the other hand, he stopped in his tracks and studied you for a moment. Then, he walked up to you and introduced himself. And the rest was history, you instantly hit it off as friends. Max was special, you two had something that you hadn't ever felt with anyone else. When he was home from his busy job in Formula 1, you would often spend time together, even sleeping at each other's apartments, although not in the same bed. You lived in the same district as him, Fontveille, only a couple of buildings apart.
"Yeah, yeah, Max! I'll be at your place in about an hour." You laugh as you hear Max's worried voice on the other end of the phone.
"Please drive carefully." He pleads.
He'd insisted on picking you up from the airport or ordering an Uber but you politely declined.
As you grab your bags, you walk straight to the car rental. You glanced at the cars available and decided on a small black Audi. You had to admit that you were tired. The long flight had taken its toll, and you started to regret insisting on driving home but you felt like you had to prove to Max that you could take care of yourself.
You pay for the car and drag your heavy bags out. Getting them into the small car was a task itself but you managed, somehow. As you started your 20-minute drive you felt the fatigue in your body. When you made it onto the highway you felt relieved, because you were one step closer to home and Max.
You'd barely made it halfway when the car started to lose power, leaving you stranded at the edge of the highly trafficked highway. "Fuck⌠What do I do.." You panicked, you didn't have any numbers saved and didn't know French that well yet so calling for a tow was out of the question. You didn't really care about the car at this point, but rather about how you were supposed to make it home safely. You had to think for a few minutes, listing your options in your head. Then, as if by a miracle, the phone called. Max. Shit, what was she going to say, that she was a damsel in distress and she was stuck on the highway?
"Hi, Max." You said.
"Hi lieverd, are you home soon? I was getting worried."
"Ummm, so, I'm kinda stuck on the highway⌠The damn car broke down. But I'm figuring it out, I promise!" You blurt the last part out. Silence. You waited for a reply for what felt like a minute. You hear the sound of keys clinging. "I'm on my way. Y/N, please for the love of god, stay in the car and turn your location on." Max quickly and shortly replies before he hangs up.
"IâŚ" You start before you realise that he ended the call. You did as he'd told you and looked around. The cars drove past at such fast and close proximity.
This was Max in a nutshell, always there, having all of the solutions to the world's problems up his sleeve. You felt so pathetic at the fact that you couldn't even make your way home by yourself.
15 minutes later, you see a car that you quickly identify as Max's car speed by on the other side of the highway. He quickly makes his way to your lane and parks his car behind yours.
He walks up to your broken-down car, minding the traffic. "Need a ride?" He teases.
"Shut up!" You step out, giving his side a nudge. You open the trunk where the bags were, and Max drags them to his car, placing them in the back with care.
You lock the Audi and step into Max's luxurious and grand Aston Martin. It smells like him.
"Ready to go?" Max asks and grabs the wheel.
You take his hand into yours and stare into his eyes as he turns to look at you in confusion.
"Thank you, for this." You thank him, making him huff.
"Of course Y/N, I told you I should have picked you up. I want to spend all the time I can with you before the next race weekend." You smile at him and you start the drive to Monaco and Fontveille. The whole way home, he held your hand tightly, as if he was scared to lose you. The gesture made your heart even warmer than it already was.
Max parks neatly and effortlessly in his parking house and carries your bags out, insisting on handling them. You walk behind him like a puppy, letting him lead you to his apartment.
As you walk in, you instantly toss your shoes and crash on his sofa, with him following, laying down beside you.
"Wanna order some food?" You whisper, looking at him.
"Someone's hungry, I see. What do you want, princess?"
"Something really unhealthy, preferably. Pizza, maybe?"
And with that, you ordered your food with Max, playfully arguing whether pineapple was acceptable to put on pizza.
"Do you want to do something in particular tonight, schat?"
"Anything that includes you sounds good to me." You smile at him.
"Does snuggles sound good to you? You look tired." Max says.
You nod as an answer, as you switch on the TV, leaving on the random rom-com in the background. You grab a blanket that was left on the sofa and lie down with your head in Max's lap. You both sigh contently. He slowly rubs your head, giving you a relaxing head massage.
You loved his attention to your needs, he had always treated you with respect under this last year that you'd known each other. Max was always extremely clingy with you, holding your hand, and reminding you how much he likes spending time with you. You didn't think anything of it at the time but lately you started noticing how caring he actually was. He wasn't like this with anyone else of the girls from your mutual friend group either.
As you were thinking about the signs Max gave you, he must have noticed how distant you were because he took your hand and gave it a squeeze.
"You okay?" He asks with concern in his voice.
"Yes, I am, Max." You chuckled and gave him a squeeze back.
"How was your holiday? Tell me everything." Max asks of you.
As you tell him all of the gossip and details he starts to rub your hands, creeping up your arms. And then, he pulls you into his arms, leaving a quick kiss on the top of your head.
You pulled away. You weren't against the affection, but you needed some clarity. Max was like a closed book when it came to his feelings and emotions, rarely talking about what he felt, regardless of whether it was positive or negative.
You quickly gather your thoughts and Max seems to do the same.
"W-what are we doing?" You ask him.
He looks you in the eyes and cups your cheeks, unable to keep his hands off you. You didn't protest, vice versa, you leaned into his touch. This was new but it felt right.
He sighed. "What I'm going to tell you is something I've been waiting to say for the last year or so. I should have told you sooner but I was scared you would reject me. Y/N, I really really like you⌠More than as a friend, and I've been trying to ignore my feelings for you but I'm simply unable to keep this to myself any longer."
You were speechless, you had your suspicions but it still came as a surprise.
"It's okay if you don't feel the same way about me, but I couldn't keep it in." He continues.
"MaxâŚ" You break the eye contact. "I like you too, I mean⌠A lot."
Max eyes warm up with joy, and he gives you the warmest smile you'd ever seen. His smile reached all the way up to his eyes, and you thought it was the most adorable thing you'd ever seen.
You wake up in a bed. The sheets smell fresh, like citrus, and Max's cologne. You turn around, rubbing your eyes, but find no one on the other side of the bed. You find your way downstairs, to the living room and kitchen. Max is standing at the stove with his back turned to you. What is he possibly doing, you think. It's common knowledge that Max sucks at cooking.
You sit down at the kitchen island, getting lost in his beauty. It's quiet, the only exception being Max's swear words as he manages to burn himself and whatever is in the pan. After a while, he breaks the silence, "You know, Y/N, it's not polite to stare." He says as he turns around to face you.
You were embarrassed and sat there stuttering, not quite knowing what to say. "I-I-I swear I wasn't!"
Max laughs, "Uh huh..." And scoops two eggs onto each plate. One for you and one for himself. "Thank you, Max, this is too much..." You say, still blushing. He walks around the island and takes a seat next to you, giving your temple a light kiss while holding his arm around you.
"No, Y/N. This is barely enough." He smiles.
"So... What happened last night?" You ask. You really didn't remember, you must've dozed off.
"We talked about your holiday, and what happened last night, you know, you ending up on the road, and you fell asleep. I carried you to my bed, and I slept on the sofa. Nothing happened, by the way." He clarifies, holding his hands up. You look at him, and you can't make out if you were shocked or happy, or something else. One thing you knew for sure though, you were thankful for him. As he gets up again to get some juice and bread, you walk up to him, not saying anything. "Y/N, what's wrong?" He asks, worried.
You're lost in his eyes, and stand there like a fool. Just studying his beautiful stance. You had no idea what got into you, but you fall into his arms, holding him tightly, not letting go.
Max laughs nervously, "What are you doing?" While hugging you back, or rather squeezing you. You were unable to even breathe while he was holding you. You stay like that for what feels like forever, both of you fusing together, not being able to let go, not wanting to let go.
When you finally part, you're both out of breath from holding each other so hard. "Shall we?" Max asks, pointing to the eggs. As you eat, you don't say anything, neither does Max. You're processing what just happened and Max seems to do the same. You didn't regret hugging him, on the contrary, you were happy with yourself.
"I think I love you, Y/N." Max admits while washing the two plates, not daring to look at you.
Hearing the words, you freeze. You know exactly what to say, but the words don't come out. Max finally turns around to face you, and you're sat with the blankest of expressions, further worrying him. "Y/N?" He walks up to you.
"I... I think I love you too?" You ask yourself, already knowing the answer. You did love him, there was no question. You'd always loved him.
Upon hearing your words, Max lets out a sigh of relief, while walking up to you, and embracing you.
"Thank fuck." He sighs. You can feel him almost trembling, or rather vibrating from nervousness. His grip on you tightens, pulling you closer, before he lets you out of his grip. "Let me rephrase that, I don't think I love you, I love you."
#fan fic#fic writing#f1 fic#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula one#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#max verstappen#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fic#formula 1 x you#formula 1 fic#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader
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Mdzs characters I think would smoke and what their smoking habits would look like:
Wei Wuxian- Heâd probably be vaping the weirdest, experimental flavours like âMatcha and Wasabiâ, âSpicy Mango Pepperâ, or âSour Plum wineâ. Heâd be the guy at party making not-so-fruity smoke clouds.
Jiang Cheng- He picked up the habit of smoking during university while trying to prove to his parents he can do it and now heâs just used to it. His preference is something classic, unfiltered cigarettes. He absolutely hates vaping (wwx ruined it for him)
Nie Huaisang- His Pick is the hookah. Heâd make a whole ritual out of it, setting up elaborate, colorful hookahs with long, winding hoses, filling the air with sweet, fragrant smoke. He would gather people around, telling stories, sharing gossip, and making an event of it. Heâd likely have a variety of flavors on hand, from âExotic Pomegranate Mintâ to âJasmine White Teaâ.
Lan Xichen- Surprisingly, heâd use w eed. If anyone asked, heâd say itâs for âmeditative purposesâ or to help him ârelax and reflect.â Xichen favours edibles or teas over smoking directly, preferring something like lavender or chamomile-infused cannabis tea, treating it as a rare, sacred ritual. On the off chance he does smoke, heâs thoughtful, giving each exhale a contemplative pause, as if heâs meditating on the meaning of life with each puff.
BONUS
Jin Ling- He would steal one of jcâs cigarettes because he wants to look cool like his jiujiu. Heâd take a puff and instantly choke immediately regretting his decision because of the foul taste. But heâd realise he inhaled the smoke into his lungs and begins to panic, âwhat if I get cancer now?â
Jiang Cheng finds him crying and a discarded cigarette on the floor and jl is like âomg jiujiu Iâm gonna die now.â Snotty faced and all. Wwx is in the background trying so hard not to laugh while jc scolds jl.
(Jc quits smoking the next day after he finds out Jin Ling wanted to look like him)
#mdzs#jiang cheng#mxtx mdzs#wei wuxian#nie huaisang#lan xichen#smoking#mdzs headcanons#wei ying#jiang wanyin#mxtx#lan huan#jin ling#poor baby lol
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drunk confessions
a/n: wow i haven't posted in a long while hahaha thanks for staying :) i'm so burnt out from exams please tolerate me𼲠again, not beta read, my beta reader is busy as heck because of a hellish sch system. also, i wrote all of this at 3am, i hope it's still readable TT (this is obvi in timeskip no underage drinking guys)
---
"i think i love you."
you rest your head on your palm, gazing at him with soft eyes and warm cheeks. you reek of alcohol; tsukishima doesn't seem to care.
the two of you sit by the bar at the far end, where the light jazz music gets faint. he's thinking clearly, only a bit red from a drink or twoâ or is it something else?â while you're flat out drunk. his eyes widen slightly at your confession, and pauses.
"don't say things you don't mean." tsukishima eventually brushes you off, pushing his glasses further up. despite that, his heart beats a little faster, and he hates it.
you splay out your arms across the countertop, burying your face in them. he takes the last swig of his drink. there is the distant sound of glasses clinking and a cheer.
"tsukki?" his name is a bit slurred as you turn to him again. your hair is in a tangled mess, locks of it falling over your eyes. he resists the urge to tuck them away and behind your ear.
tsukishima nudges your foot: a sign to continue.
"y'know, when i first met you, i thought you were an arrogant, self-centred bastard. i hated you." you state, fiddling with your empty shot glass. wow, and just when he thought things were getting intimate.
"where exactly are you going with this?" he frowns at you.
"we used to bicker about almost everything at school. i can't count how many times yamaguchi had to step in." you giggle, hiccuping at the end. you didn't seem to have heard him but he doesn't mind. he shakes his head, a small smile appearing on his face; you look so cute being lost in your own world.
"remember it was our last class, and it happened to rain that day? you laughed at me because i didn't bring an umbrella." yes, he remembers. tadashi was sick that day, and the both of you ended up getting lectured many times by teachers for your incessant arguments. he almost laughs at the thought of it.
"i didn't expect to find your umbrella in my shoe locker after you left, though. you said you had an extra when i confronted you about it but yamaguchi already told me you had returned home drenched." tsukishima's face starts to burn. shit, being reminded of how down bad he wasâand still isâ is embarrassing. he wishes he was much cooler about it.
"i couldn't accept that you were capable of being nice, let alone to me..." it's even more so because of you.
"...till i realised you're nothing like what i thought you were. you admit your own faults, are too hard on yourself, and incredibly encouraging of your friends in your own complicated way. hell, even to hinata and kageyama!" you're sitting upright now, your hands making exaggerated movements as you talk. you take a deep breath in.
"it's your fault that i can't stop thinking about you, and that i get so sickeningly happy when i see you. so shuddup, i do mean it when i said i think, no wait, i know i love you." you rebuke him, pointing your finger at him like an angry child.
you have done it. you've lit his face on fire with your words. he can't tear his eyes away from your piercing gaze.
tsukishima isn't the most affectionate person, but maybe it's the late hour, or the influence of the alcohol, because he reaches over to caress the back of your head and bring you closer to him. his lips softly presses against your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds before pulling away. he sees your eyes sparkle.
since kei believes actions speak louder than words, he hopes you know that this, everything, means something.
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