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flowerandblood · 4 months ago

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The Price of Pride (6/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, mutual masturbation, infidelity, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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Never before had the wooden ceiling of a bed seemed so interesting to her.

The Maester was trying to be gentle and his touch was respectful – she knew that, but still what he was doing, the fact that there were other people around behind the cream curtains made her tense, even though she knew the verdict would be one.

When the examination was finally completed she sighed quietly and swallowed hard, rising on her elbow – she lowered her skirt down thinking she wouldn't give them the satisfaction and cry – Maester's voice and what he said was like honey to her ears.

"She is a maiden, My King. I have no doubt."

A moment later, she heard the sound of a door opening and closing with a loud slam.

Prince Aemond gave everyone an expression of his fury at this obviously unfounded accusation.

She took a quiet breath as someone pulled aside one of the veils – the king's face seemed satisfied, as if not the end result but the fact that he had once again shown his brother who had the last word was his reward.

"I am relieved, dear cousin, that you have come to no harm under my brother's care. I hope you understand that in no way did I mean to offend you or undermine your virtue." He said lightly, knowing that she could not reply anything other than to confirm his certainly sincere and good intentions.

"I am grateful to you for your concern, Your Grace." She replied, looking him straight in the eye, to her surprise feeling neither bitterness nor regret.

This would at least cut off any further gossip about her and the tongue of the servant who had given her pleasure that day, as promised by the prince.

She guessed he would not leave it at that.

"I wish to see your dragon and judge for myself the value he will bring to the upcoming battles. I also want him to stay in the Dragon's Pit with the rest of the dragons and not with Vhagar." He said, and she nodded, knowing that there was no point in standing up.

This brother or another, what difference did it make.

"He is still wild and untamed, my King. Accustomed to freedom. I fear that sudden confinement may kill his spirit." She replied softly.

Aegon nodded.

"I may yet change my decision. For now, I want to see him."

In accordance with his desire, he, she and a retinue consisting of several members of the Kingsguard, including Ser Criston Cole, set off on horseback to Vhagar's lair where the two dragons rested.

When they arrived, she felt joy, or rather a new kind of it, one she had experienced for the first time when she saw Sheepstealer.

Her dragon squawked happily at the sight of her, coming quickly up to her on his paws, watching her from all sides, intrigued, paying no attention to the other newcomers.

He was as sweet as a baby, she thought with tenderness, lonely for long years, craving tenderness, understanding and attention as much as she did.

He was everything she was, which is why the moment she first looked into his eyes she knew she would succeed in taming him.

She knew what he needed and she was able to give it to him, and he reciprocated.

Her dragon was the only man she needed.

"Magnificent. Fierce. And large indeed. Bigger than Sunfyre. Very well." Exclaimed the King with a smile, clearly pleased and reassured.

When his brother was not next to him he felt in control of the situation again.

She stroked the muzzle of her dragon, for some reason also smiling, its scales under her skin hard and rough.

"We are at your service, my King." She replied, wanting to be sure they would leave her alone.

She just wanted to be close to her dragon, nothing more.

"Good. You and my brother will take turns patrolling the sky daily. This will relieve the burden on Vhagar and allow the prince to attend to other, equally important matters." He said, and she nodded.

"Present our subjects with our new dragon. Show them that we are stronger than ever." He commanded, and she held back the smile of amusement that pressed across her face.

Is that so?

Outside? Maybe.

But inside, they were one rotten fruit.

"My King."

Flying over King's Landing was a kind of liberation for her – she felt she was showing not only the world what she had become, but more importantly her father.

She hoped, feeling the wind in her hair, whirling on the Sheepstealer in the skies with laughter, that Daemon was throwing his cups in Dragonstone out of rage, cursing the day she was born.

Although she hated her heritage and her name, it was the dragon that saved her and gave her life meaning.

It felt like they understood each other without words, that one move of hers was enough to make him change his flight course to where she wanted or dive down.

Once they landed, she always spent a bit of time with him, lying on the grass beside him, stroking his muzzle – she wanted him to know that he wasn't just her tool that she used.

No.

She felt something completely different that filled her heart wonderfully.

Love.

Looking out of the corner of her eye at Vhagar lying in the distance, plunged into a deep sleep, completely ignoring them, she wondered if these were the feelings that Prince Aemond had for his dragoness.

You should fall to your knees before her, you fucking whore, not laugh.

This was not an expression of his pride then.

It was an expression of his deep affection for her.

She smiled at this thought, recognising that at last she understood him.

Her expression was gentle and contented when, walking down the corridor of the Red Keep with a guard who did not leave her side, she came across him, apparently heading for Vhagar's liege.

"Where have you been?" He asked disturbed, seeing her riding attire.

She sighed quietly, pulling her black leather gloves from her hands.

"The King ordered that we take turns patrolling the skies. I have done that duty today. You may rest." She said, and he swallowed hard, something expression in his face as if he felt discomfort.

Another thing he was taking away from him, she thought.

"Leave us." He directed his cold words to the guard. He nodded and walked away with the quiet clang of his steel armour.

The prince moved away towards the cloisters, and she moved with him.

He didn't want anyone to hear their conversation.

"What did you say to him?" He asked, looking sideways, as if he couldn't bear to see her.

"To whom?"

"To my brother. Did you betray me?" He asked coldly, throwing her a drawn-out, stern look.

She sighed heavily and shook her head, closing her eyes, tired after the physical exertion, not having the strength for his baseless accusations.

"How?" She asked, his jaw clenched, his body upright and tense.

"Don't play a fucking fool. You know perfectly well what I'm referring to."

She laughed at his words, shrugging her shoulders, bringing him to the brink of fury.

She could see it in his wide-open eye, in his feral, furious gaze.

"I know, but I haven't told him anything and I won't. It's not in my nature to complicate a situation where I'm comfortable. Being your enemy is not my desire. The lack of your unity drastically reduces my chances of survival, and having tamed the dragon, its value in my eyes has increased greatly." She said lightly, looking him straight in the eye, seeing that his hands entwined behind his back were clenched into fists.

He hated it when she spoke to him like that, but he couldn't do anything to her in public.

"I also wish for you to continue to teach me the language of Old Valyria. In return, I will report to you on what I am asked and what the King tells me to soothe your troubled soul." She hummed with a smile, watching with satisfaction as he drew in a loud breath and licked his lower lip, apparently trying not to use his hands on her long neck.

"Do we have an agreement, my Prince?" She asked, cocking her head.

He sighed, glancing sideways, and shook his head, clearly not believing that he had consented to such humiliation.

"In the library. Every day, right after supper."

She learned of Lady Floris Baratheon's arrival in the Red Keep from her maid – braiding some of her hair at the back of her head, she told her of what she had seen.

"Lady Floris arrived in a brown gown embroidered with gold thread. Her hair is black and long, pinned up in a braid, smoothed down in front, her forehead high, her gaze proud and solemn. Her smile, in my opinion, has no lightness or conviction." Said Lysa, and she giggled under her breath, looking at her and herself in the reflection of the mirror.

"What a harsh judgement. Perhaps it was that smile that the prince found so charming that he chose her." She replied lightly, thinking with amusement that her cousin was surely writhing in agony right now, entertaining his betrothed.

Good, she thought.

Let him suffer.

"Perhaps, however, the memory of that day must spend his sleep." Said Lysa, gracefully weaving one of her strands in with the rest of her hairstyle.

She blinked, intrigued.

"What do you mean?"

Lysa looked at her surprised, as if snapped out of her reverie.

"Don't you know, my Lady? It was on this day that Prince Aemond killed Prince Lucerys. That poor boy. His mother searched for his remains in madness and despair, but apparently there was nothing left of him but his cloak. He was devoured by Vhagar." She explained, and she swallowed hard, feeling a cold sweat run down her back.

He says that Luke's death was an accident, but I don't know if I believe him.

I don't recognise him anymore and I warn you that he's unpredictable.

She was sure she would eat her supper as usual in solitude, but it turned out that the King had held a small banquet and she was to attend.

Aegon wanted to show off her dragon and what she had done, while humiliating his brother and his betrothed, she thought wryly, walking there reluctantly.

When the door opened in front of her, she saw a long table, on either side of which sat the royal family and their loyal lords with their relatives.

She did not know where she should sit or what to do, the King, however, decided to take pity on her.

"Ah, here is my dear, fearless cousin. Come here, my Lady, I have assigned you a seat next to my brother. Perhaps your presence will lift his spirits." He called out, and she swallowed hard, lowering her gaze, knowing that she couldn't react to this, that she just had to survive it.

She sat down in the only empty seat, between her cousin and the king's wife, Helaena – she was pale and sad, staring off into the distance somewhere with empty eyes.

She still had not come to terms with the death of her son.

However, as she sank into her grief and sorrow, the King, on the contrary, was bubbling over with a desire for revenge, ready for action.

When she glanced sideways, all she saw was his hand clenched into a fist, his familiar scent reached her nostrils – she swallowed quietly, twisting in her seat, feeling a pleasant pulsing between her thighs, for some reason remembering how pleasant the touch of his fingers was there, sinking into her damp folds.

She reached for her wine cup and took a loud sip from it, not bothering to look to the side, her gaze fixed on the Queen Alicent who sat opposite her.

"My Lady." She heard an unfamiliar female voice directed in her side and she let out a quiet breath, taking another sip from her goblet, hearing her cousin twist restlessly in his chair.

She looked at Floris Baratheon and forced herself to give her the kindest, warmest smile she could afford. Floris was also smiling; had it not been for her gaze, she might have found her expression even sympathetic.

However, her eyebrows arched in some sort of compassion, a sign that she wanted to show her false understanding.

"I congratulate you on taming a dragon. No one expected you to succeed." She said softly, shaking her head as if filled with sincere admiration.

The corner of her mouth twitched, but she managed not to laugh.

"I didn't believe it myself, my Lady. I was convinced that I would burn and become dust." She replied lightly, not taking her eyes off her.

Several people at the table chuckled at her words as Floris watched her for a moment, playing with the small gold ring on her heart finger.

"The gods have spared you. Will you stand to fight your father?" She asked, as if giving her a challenge of sorts.

"Enough." She heard her cousin's impatient voice between them directed at his betrothed.

She, however, found that she was happy to answer her.

"My dragon lacks experience and composure. I will be a mere support for the King and the Prince." She replied, and Floris leaned back, intrigued.

"Support indeed needed." Aegon added, popping a grape into his mouth, biting through it with a loud crunch. "On which we all agree. Now, music!"

For the rest of the feast, she pretended to be very focused on her piece of roast, which she ate slowly, knowing that she couldn't flee immediately if she didn't want to offend the King – she didn't hold him in special esteem but she knew that he held her in some sort of affection, and after what he had accused her of after his son's death, she feared that one wrong move on her part would be enough for her to fall back into his disfavour.

True, the responsible parties had been found and the King himself had brought them justice, however, she could not let him begin to think again that she had helped her father let them into the keep.

He had to be sure that she was faithful to him.

They both had to be sure of it.

Him and his brother.

She swallowed hard, pulled out of her reverie, feeling a shudder when her cousin's knee pressed against hers. She was sure he simply wanted to change position, he, however, spread himself out comfortably, leaving his leg where it was.

Should she move away?

Do nothing?

What was that supposed to mean?

She glanced sideways at his hand out of the corner of her eye – she could see that his fingers were tapping the tabletop in some nervous, impatient gesture.

Their lessons.

Was he trying to tell her to leave and go to the library before he did, so as not to frustrate his betrothed?

She wanted to ask him that, but couldn't, so she decided she would do what she thought appropriate and simply stood up, nodding her head at the King.

"Your Grace. I will retire now, if you will allow me." She said softly, and Aegon nodded.

"I allow it." He replied, his voice through the amount of wine he had managed to drink like a babble.

Gods help me, she thought as she bowed to him and the Queen Dowager, without bestowing even a single glance on the prince or his betrothed.

She waited in her chamber for half an hour, changing in the meantime into the more comfortable, casual silk robe the Queen had given her, throwing it over her nightgown, tying it around her waist.

When she finally stepped outside her guard furrowed his brow and shook his head.

"Prince Aemond wanted to meet me in the library. Take me there." She said – the man hesitated and sighed heavily, indicating with his hand for her to go ahead.

Her cousin was already waiting for her – he gave her one protracted glance from over his open books, his eye open wide as if he was surprised by her appearance, candles all around him.

He nodded at her to sit beside him in the chair, and she did so, leaving her guard outside the door.

He moved one of the books towards her and opened it to a page he apparently wanted to discuss with her.

"We'll start with the basics. The most important and simplest terms." He said matter-of-factly, sliding another book towards her and leaned in, his clearly defined cheekbone close, too close, pointing his finger at one of the words.

"Jelmor." He hummed. "North."

"Jelmor." She whispered, feeling the tension in all the muscles of her body.

"Ñāqon. East."

"Nāqon."

"No. Roll your tongue at the n." He said, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, something in his gaze from which her heart struck harder.

It seemed to her that his iris was black.

There was something obscenely intimate in his bent figure, in his slightly parted lips, in his proximity, the place between her thighs all swollen, increasingly moist and warm.

"Ñāqon." She whispered.

"Better." He hummed, his gaze never leaving her face even though his finger moved on to the next words, as if he knew this book by heart. "Vēzor. South."

"Vēzor."

"Endia. West."

"Endia."

"Muña. Mother." He said, something flashed dangerously in his gaze, as if he knew exactly what her reaction would be and he was not wrong.

She froze, clasping her hands on her thighs, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad, the tightness in her throat indicating that she felt pain.

"Muña."

"Mmm. Kepa. Father."

She swallowed hard, looking at him with eyes glazed from tears, feeling her body begin to twitch. His lips parted slightly, as if what he was doing to her, the fact that she was vulnerable aroused him.

"Repeat." He whispered.

"Kepa." She said, feeling a single, heavy tear run down her cheek.

Kepa.

She shuddered, looking up at him in horror as his hand rose to her cheek, his thumb lazily rubbing the wet mark from her face.

"Trēsy. Son." He continued, his voice like the sound of water, calm and quiet.

Tender, as if he were moved.

Why?

She sighed as his hand traveled lower, his index finger running over her jaw.

"Tresy."

"No." He said. "Trēsy. The letter 'ē' needs to be read deeper, as if you want to sing."

"Trēsy."

"Tala. Daugther."

She shook her head, pressing her lips together, feeling that she couldn't do it, the feeling as if he was driving needle after needle into her heart made it difficult for her to get anything out.

She sighed, closing her eyes as he leaned lower, in some natural reflex pressing his forehead against hers, his hand sinking into the skin of her neck, his warm, excited breath enveloping her face.

She involuntarily clenched her thighs together, feeling the wonderful, familiar pulsing and tickling between them.

"Tala."

"Hāedar." He exhaled, something in his voice from which she felt her nipples harden, peeking through from under the fabric of her robe. "Little sister."

She opened her eyes, feeling a shiver run down her spine.

And that was a mistake.

He was looking straight into her face.

She sighed when she felt his other hand on her knee, moving slowly up to her thigh.

"Hāedar." She exhaled, feeling her cunt begin to leak with desire against her will.

"Lēkia." He said, as if he had done something definitive, a quiet moan breaking from her throat as his hand closed over her womanhood. "Older brother."

"Lēkia." She moaned and whimpered as his lips pressed against hers in an aggressive, loud, sticky kiss full of their saliva and panting, her palm touching his scarred cheek, drawing a low murmur of delight from his throat.

She touched him.

She sighed as she let her hand sink into his smooth white hair, for some reason seeking comfort in him, an escape from the cold, bleak loneliness and emptiness that filled her heart.

They sank again and again into each other's soft, fleshy skin, his tongue bursting between her teeth as his hand lifted the fabric of her robe, the other clenched in her curls.

She would have cried out in shocking delight had it not been for the fact that his lips muffled all the sound she made of herself as the tips of his fingers dug into the silken folds of her womanhood, dripping and throbbing with lust.

He groaned into her throat when he felt how unashamedly wet she was for him, and she gasped when his free hand slipped from her hair to her wrist, grasping it, drawing her to his body, pressing it against the bulge in his breeches.

He murmured and licked her encouragingly as her fingers tentatively ran over the outline of his swollen manhood, hidden beneath the leather material, hard, long and twitching.

He let go of her hand, embracing her around the waist and pulling her closer as he made sure she was going to give him what he wanted, their sighs of desire melting between their plump lips as his fingers pushed against her hot slit.

She spread her legs wider, wanting to feel it, wanting him to do it to her, but they both jumped away from each other as if burned when they heard the creak of the door opening.

Her cousin wiped his hand, sticky with her moisture in his breeches, looking at his betrothed's figure, pale, and she lowered back the material of her robe, staring blankly at the books open before her.

Was she able to see by their faces, by their quickened breaths what had happened?

She felt shame at the thought that she shouldn't have done this.

She was his betrothed.

She was the one he should be touching like this.

She was the one he should spend the evening with, learning about her body.

"The guards told me I would find you here, my Prince. I did not know you would have company." She said calmly, however, disappointment and understandable annoyance could be heard in her tone of voice.

She swallowed hard, feeling that the material beneath her buttocks was wet with her moisture, her swollen walls pulsing greedily around nothing, begging to feel his fingers again, her nipples hard and sore, clearly outlined beneath her robe.

"I am teaching my cousin the language of Old Valyria. It is the only way she can communicate with her dragon." He said, feigning composure, looking ahead but not at her even though she stopped right beside him.

She touched one of the books and flipped a page, remaining silent for a moment.

"May I join you? I would also like to learn the language of your ancestors, my love." She said, her hand on his shoulder.

She looked at him and saw that he had closed his eye, as if he felt discomfort the moment Lady Floris touched him.

He swallowed loudly and opened his eyelid, his gaze helpless and childlike, filled with pain.

"I will not be able to concentrate with you standing by my side, my Lady." He whispered, his voice weak, as if he had run out of strength.

Floris's hand slid from his shoulder to his forearm, his figure tense, his lips clamped into a tight line.

He didn't look at her.

"Does my presence disturb you, my love?" Floris asked, and she twisted in her seat, deciding that this conversation was too private.

These were their problems, their betrothal, their worries.

Why was she allowing herself to be dragged into this?

"I'll leave you alone. With your permission." She said quickly, wanting to get up, his gaze shifting to her, sharp and angry.

"Daor, hāedar."

She froze in mid-motion with her hands on the table, looking at him in disbelief, feeling her walls clench around nothing at his words.

No, little sister.

Little sister.

She swallowed hard feeling her lips part involuntarily, her eyebrows arching in helplessness, the heat that spread across her chest strangely pleasant and reassuring.

Floris looked at him then at her and shook her head.

"What did you say, my love?"

"I don't allow it. We are not finished yet. Soon her dragon will move to fight at my side and she must be ready. I ask that you never interrupt us again. If you wish, we will take a walk around the royal gardens tomorrow, just as you desire." He said emotionlessly, as if trying to calm a whimpering child.

Floris swallowed hard and looked at her in a way from which she felt discomfort in her stomach, a sense of humiliation, frustration and irritation in her gaze.

"Is it because she is your cousin? Like any Targaryen you prefer your own kin?" She asked quietly, both of them bouncing when his fists slammed into the table, and he sprang from his seat, towering over his betrothed as if he wanted to tear her apart.

She too stood up, grabbing his arm in some helpless, naïve gesture.

"Lēkia." She said pleadingly.

Floris's lips clenched looking at the fact that she dared to touch him, that her prince looked at her and not his betrothed, that it was her opinion that counted, her word that could stop him.

And then Floris' gaze fled lower, to his breeches, and she froze, pale, seeing exactly her answer to all her concerns.

Her hand let go of him when his nostrils stopped twitching with rage, when his jaw relaxed into an expression a little softer, though still frustrated.

He finally looked at his betrothed and licked his lower lip, as if trying to control himself.

"I will consider that you never said it, my Lady. Otherwise I would have to recognise that you intended to insult me and my family. And that would mean, in turn, that my betrothed is a fool. Is that how it is, my Lady?" He gasped in a voice filled with mockery, from which she swallowed hard, lowering her gaze.

Floris Baratheon looked at him with eyes full of tears, and then her gaze turned to her, her lips quivering with rage and grief.

"No, my Prince. I am not." She said, turned and walked away, leaving them alone.

She was unable to look at him – the silence in the chamber, his taut silhouette standing beside her made her feel like her wetness was dripping from between her thighs straight onto the stone floor beneath her feet.

"You may leave." He said finally.

She nodded and moved towards the door on soft legs, walking out into the corridor, thinking that they had both accomplished some amazing feat by not simply fucking each other on that table.

She sighed loudly, running her hand over her face, thinking that maybe she wasn't such a bad person.

She figured that during their next lessons she wouldn't sit so close to him, that she wouldn't look at him or tempt him.

That she wouldn't let him touch her anymore.

She blinked, looking around, only noticing after a moment that there was no guard who should be watching her.

She turned when she heard the rustling of a gown behind her, something long and hard hit her head with all its force, and she fell to the floor with a thud.

It seemed a moment before she lost consciousness that she heard the breathy voice of her cousin's betrothed above her, only a quiet hiss left her lips.

"Whore."

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haikyu-mp4 · 4 months ago

Text

Meeting with the Kozumes

Fluffy workplace romance at Bouncing Ball Corp. with your husband Kenma for my workplace romance event <3

requested by @bobateagojo. word count; 674 – f!reader

Kenma Kozume didn’t often come into the office, but you always made time to join him when he did. He would sigh as he sat down in his chair, pulling you towards him while you argued that you had work to do. This company doesn’t run itself.

Being the one who manages Bouncing Ball Corp. was quite the way to start a love story with the owner himself, perhaps you could sell the idea to a K-drama producer. He had noticed the company’s results improving ever since hiring someone new in charge and went to meet with you, quickly infatuated by your charm and kindness.

You led the company exactly how he wanted it, and meetings turned into dates turned into a relationship turned into a proposal. And now there were two Kozumes in charge of Bouncing Ball Corp.

“So, Kozume. How’s my schedule for today?” he asked, leaning on your shoulder while you clicked away at the computer from your seat in his lap.

“My love, I am not your secretary,” you teased in return, turning a bit to kiss his temple. “However, I heard you had a meeting with that new event company today, and thought I might take it off your hands.” You were just mumbling under your breath at this point, already knowing Kenma hated hosting meetings.

“Oh no, anything but!”

You sat with him as you prepared for the meeting, the conversation going from serious decision-making to what your new neighbours might be up to. When the offer you wanted to make was finally completed in a neat file with a clear presentation, you kissed him goodbye and left the office with a satisfied smile, moving to the meeting room where the client was already waiting for you.

There was no doubt you were the more socially adept between you and your husband, and you had no problem standing your ground in negotiations, but some clients would thoroughly challenge you.

By the time you were halfway through your presentation, the client scoffed as you got into the numbers. “I don’t understand why I was told I had a meeting with Kozume and then I’m met with his secretary, this is so unprofessional!” he said, after already being less than respectful previously.

Just as you were about to answer, there was a soft knock on the door before it opened, revealing your husband in his old Nekoma hoodie with the hood up over his hair, which still had the Dutch braids you made last night. A lollipop sat between his lips and he smiled around it when he saw you, coming over to your side. “You left this in my office.”

He put a sheet of paper down before politely bowing and sitting down across from him, but with his chair turned to you. “Thank you.” You cleared your throat, about to keep doing the presentation when the client interrupts you.

“Sir, I was hoping I could talk to you about this offer.” The other man was fully turned towards Kenma now.

He looked at the client with furrowed brows. “I believe that’s what my wife is trying to present you. It’s a great offer really, I looked at it this morning.”

“Please excuse me, I did not know you were married, but this is a huge deal and I’d like to speak to the boss.”

Kenma looked over at you, and he was happy to see you were patiently waiting to have the client’s attention again.

“I suggest you adjust your tone, sir. You are in fact speaking to the boss. She is more than capable.” Your husband got up again and politely excused himself from the room, making the client finally turn back to you with a nervous gulp.

“I am so sorry, Mrs. Kozume. Please let me have another look at your suggestion.”

Kenma gave you two thumbs up from outside the window and you smirked, blowing a kiss at him as the client sweated over the more than advantageous deal you have presented him.

Power couple.

masterlist

a/n: am I the only one who thought Kenma was his last name? I had to research for this fic and realized Kozume is his last name haha!

for the requester: thank you so much for your great request and kind compliments<3 hope you have an awesome week as well!

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konigsblog · 7 months ago

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I feel like soap/gaz would non-con reader in there sleep, and feel guilty about it afterwards, trys to make up for it. Reader dosent understand why there cunt hurts so bad but at least there good friend is there helping them around the house and making breakfast for them

This is just so he dosent feel guilty, takes readers appreciation for the help as a green light to do it over again

tw/cw; rape. 18+

they'd both choose to do it while under the influence, a drunken and horrible mistake to violate their closest friend while they're vulnerable and unconscious.

of course, they're mortified the next morning when they wake up in the early hours, gazing over at your naked body and the splatters of their milky load smeared along your rear and soft thighs. kyle is the first to be awoken, the birds chirping outside your barracks window, while you and johnny are fast asleep, snoring away peacefully. johnny shouldn't feel so relaxed and at ease, not after committing a horrible crime by raping their best friend mercilessly.

johnny is awoken by kyle who shakes him awake urgently, trying to usher johnny out of the bedroom before you're awoken and horrified by their sickening, disturbing behaviour. johnny feels ashamed and ill, sick to his stomach thinking back to the decision he'd made after a couple beers and some marijuana. you were fast asleep, completely unconscious after johnny and kyle had made a calculated plan to drug your beverage while you weren't looking. they had waited for you to fall asleep, knocked unconscious so they could carry out their immoral plan.

you're so dumbfounded and confused the next morning, your body is aching, especially between your thighs, bruises and marks scattered around your body. they're both generous and eager to help you, with johnny offering to serve you your favourite breakfast, and gaz offering to write up any reports price had asked for.

you don't have a clue what happened, but for some strange reason, you don't want to know. :(

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darlingdreadwrites · 29 days ago

Text

Still and Breathless

pairing: Ticci Toby x Final Girl!Reader

part: 1, 2

summary: Having escaped from Toby the first time, you decide to go back to the woods. You know this is a stupid decision, but something has pulled you back. Toby is more than ecstatic, and equally confused. He gave you a chance to leave, to keep your life. He thinks one more chase would keep you safely away, but your body thinks otherwise.

contains: getting chased by toby (again), slight pov switches, flashback, kissing

warning: logic has gone out the window

word count: 2.6k

masterlist

a.n: naming part 2 something else because ticci toby x final girl!reader part 2 looks ugly LOL im finally done with part 2, sorry for the wait. im making it up with a kiss! this took so long im so sorry.

The ride back to the woods was deafeningly silent, apart from the engine’s low hum. You were punishing yourself with it, or maybe allowing the silence to give you a chance to change your mind. You let out another shaky breath as you kept your eyes on the road. You shift and the leather seat creaks, remind you that this isn’t a dream – you’re doing this. Yor grip on the steering wheel tightens more than it should. Your nails dig into the soft groves, knuckles white from the force. Your gaze flickers to the rearview mirror for the millionth time and, yes, it’s still there. The hatchet – his hatchet – is resting on the backseat. The sunlight causes the spots where it’s not caked in mud and aged blood to glint at you. It’s as if it’s winking, mockingly remind you that what you were doing was completely, undeniable fucking insane.

Who drives around with their almost-killer’s weapon?

But you were even worse, it seems.

You were driving with it to him. What was your plan? To give it back to him? You tried to tell yourself it was for revenge – to finish what you should’ve done that night. But who were you kidding? A disgusting part of you you didn’t understand yet wanted to see him.

“This is crazy,” you mutter, shaking your head – and the memories – away. The woods, the blood, the house, the bathroom, his eyes – wide, crazy, and… adoring. You were sure that’s what it was – adoration. You’ve had a lot of time to think about it. You’ve never been looked at like that before. It was clear you were still prey to him, but in the way that he’d kill you and devour you with reverence. Your jaw tightens.

The woods around you grow denser, your apprehension mixing with a strange thrill. You shouldn’t have gone to a party so close to the woods at night. They’ve always freaked you out, so why did you? It must’ve been the same impulse that pulled you to mechanically walk deeper into the swallowing edge of the forest. You should’ve called the cops when you escaped out of that house.

Your heavy, erratic breaths made your head feel lighter than it should. It hurt to breathe at that point, the weight of the hatchet made your arm ache. Your hand shook as fingers wrapped around the splintered wood, but you gripped the weapon. Your attacker was sprawled out in the tub, eyes half-lidded and dazed. You managed to hold the hatchet with both hands, then.

“If you move,” you managed, your voice a trembling murmur, “I will chop your dick off.”

The threat felt ridiculous as it fell out of your mouth, but you meant it. God, you meant it.

He didn’t react, he just kept watching you. You didn’t know why, and it pissed you off greatly. He had the energy and time to chase you and hurt you, but he couldn’t even give you this one thing? He whispered something, but you couldn’t make it over the pounding in your ears. Anger bubbled in your chest, and you had the courage to speak up again.

“Did you hear me?” you snapped, raising the hatchet.

This time, he slowly nodded before a tic caused his neck to twist. He let his head fall back against the tub, still watching you. You stumbled back with shaky legs, determined to get out before he changed his mind. You mumbled an “okay” as your back hit the doorframe. Readjusting your way, you started to run.

The gravel crunches under your wheels as you roll to a stop, the sound fading into the quiet of the forest around you. You turn off the engine and let your hands linger on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. There was one other car here, an old blue sedan with tinted windows. You look in the rearview mirror again before twisting in your seat to face it head-on. You didn’t want to touch it, but your hand moved anyway, getting hold of the hatchet’s neck. It was a familiar surface now, the feeling of worn wood. It shouldn’t have been. A voice in your head whispers, urging you to think again and head back home. But you were tired of constantly thinking about that night – you wanted to end whatever had started.

The woods seemed to have known you would be back, it was quiet, dense, and dark. The trees stretched endlessly in all directions. You had been walking for a few minutes, the crunch of leaves eliciting a memory in you. You paused for no particular reason other than to take in the cool air. Your beaths were shallow, a pulse hammering in your ears as you just stand there. The hatchet hangs limply at your side, and you begin to regret everything. I’m not being brave, you told yourself, I’m being stupid.

Something sharp snaps behind you – a twig. You freeze, making your grip firm on the hatchet. Your head turns slowly, heart racing as your eyes scan the trees for any sign of –

Him. You see him.

He was standing just a few feet away, just past where the light faded into shadow – just off the path. You would have missed him if it wasn’t for the way his shoulder twitches. The sight was jarring, he was so out of place and yet perfectly at home among the trees. He doesn’t move, he just watches you. Instead of the mask he had worn that night, his mouth was now covered by a black bandanna. The narrow stream of sunlight caught on the orange lenses of his goggles, perched atop of his curly brown hair. His hands were loosely at his sides, but you could just make out the twitch of his fingers – a subtle, restless energy that matched the slight tilting of his head as he looks at you.

Your heart pounds, every muscle in your body screaming at you to run away as fast as you can. But you can’t – not yet.

Not yet?

As if it were possible, the forest grew quieter around you.

Toby didn’t think in all his life that he would ever see you again. He had replayed the last encounter so many times in his mind that it felt like a fever dream. There was no way he let you escape – to let you live and risk revealing his actions to the world. But here you were, standing there like something out of a story he didn’t deserve to read twice. His breath hitches, eyes shutting tightly involuntarily. You weren’t supposed to be here. But you were, and it didn’t matter why – here you were. And, yup, he was still obsessed with you.

You really are something, aren’t you?

He moves slowly toward you, stepping out of the shadows as if he were approaching a skittish animal. This whole thing was surreal. Even the soft crunching of the ground beneath his boots sound fake. His limbs buzz with a nervous energy, and he clenches and unclenches his fists. He needed to steady himself; he can’t take this moment for granted – if it was real. As his eyes dart down and around you, drinking you in again. You stood there with the same defiance he had missed, your fingers tightened around his hatchet. You held it like it was yours. You certainly earned it.

You came back, he thought to himself. After everything I did to you. You came back. To me.

Every inch of him twitches with a need to reach out and touch you – to make sure this was real. He stops just a few paces away, waiting for you to do something first.

You felt as if you had stopped breathing the second he stopped in front of you. You didn’t know what he was feeling behind the bandanna, so you wouldn’t let him find out any of the emotions that swirled around your head. Your eyes glance down at the hatchet on his hip, making you tighten your grip on yours. He whistles, but you are used to his tics by this point. You didn’t know if he would hurt you, he wasn’t making whatever he could–would–do clear. You were just glad to have a weapon this time.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you swear he could hear it. You think back to that night, his unpredictability. He’d slow down, waiting for you to do something, before exploding into violence with no remorse. But he stopped in that bathroom. You were so sure that you were going to die that night. He easily could have.

What the hell is wrong with you?

If you made it out again, maybe you would have the answer.

He moves closer, and your pulse quickens. This isn’t one of the dreams you have had recently, you are in the same woods. You drove here and looked for him. What did you want from him?

Your eyes meet his again, and something inside of you snaps.

You don’t wait for him to make the first move. Your legs start all on their own, darting in a random direction in the woods. The same adrenaline that drove you that night was surging through you now. Branches whip at your arms and legs, your heartbeat in your ears. You don’t look back. You knew he was coming.

The wind sung in your ears with every wide step you took. Twigs snap, leaves crunch, and it was considerably harder to do this while holding a hatchet. You still don’t know why you decided to run, it’s not like you were heading to the safety of your car. It was just thrilling; you got a strange high from it. The distant thump and rhythm of his pursuit pushes you on because you’d be pretty pissed at yourself if you let him win this time. Imagine surviving the attack of a serial killer, only to come back to him willingly and lose. That would be devastatingly embarrassing.

“Y-you’re slow tod-today,” he taunts from behind you, cutting through the silent concentration.

You didn’t answer. Your lungs burn, and you weren’t sure if anything that came out would be coherent. You dare to glance over your shoulder, seeing him closer than before. You refuse to let that scare you, though. You beat him once before.

He was playing with you.

You hear a laugh echoing between the trees behind you. He’s going to try and pop out beside you, you realize. You prepare, holding the hatchet closer to you as you duck under a low branch. Just as you thought – there he was.

“Tired?” he sang, coming from somewhere to your left.

But you were already veering to the right instinctively. The unrelenting aggression from when you first met wasn’t there anymore. You could tell by the way he kept laughing and taunting you. He wasn’t trying to catch you – not really. This was just a game to him, just how you thought it was when you “won” last time. The rush you got from “winning” against a serial killer – you want that again.

The forest floor gave away and your view of the world tilts – fast. You both hit the floor with a thud, your bodies a tangling mess of limbs. The air was forced out of your lungs in a sharp gasp, but you move quickly.

Toby scrambles under you for a second, but you’re faster. You press your knee into his chest, pinning him down and wrestling the hatchet into position. Gripping the handle with both hands, you press it sideways against his neck. You knew he had an uncanny way of not feeling pain, but you were sure he could feel his breathing constricted.

You shift your knee, digging it into the dirt beside him. You lean over him, just enough to hear the slight hitch of his breath behind the bandanna. For another moment, neither of you move. The forest fell into silence again. His goggles were one movement from sliding off of the disheveled mess of his hair. Wild eyes flick up to meet yours, and you silently dare him to try anything.

Toby’s body betrays him almost immediately. They start small – his tics make him shut his eyes tight, his shoulder twitching against the ground. Each movement was maddening and uncontrollable, and he hates how vulnerable the tics make him look – how vulnerable he feels under you.

The sharp, rapid jerking of his head causes the bandanna tied around his face to loosen. He can feel the knot undoing itself, the fabric sliding upward and partially covering his eyes. He let out a low, frustrated growl. He tries moving his chin downward, trying to shake it back into place, but it was too late. With another involuntary neck twitch to the left, he stiffens at the realization - that side of his face was now visible. And he could only make out part of your forehead, obscuring any reaction you could’ve had right now.

His lips twitch into a grimace, the scarred corner pulling awkwardly. A cold sense of dread forms a tightening knot in his stomach as the silence drags on. He knows you’re looking at it – you’re eating up every detail, probably disgusted.

Don’t look at it, he pleads, don’t stare.

The old wound throbs faintly, not from any type of pain… but from a distant memory he could never seem to grasp. His jaw clenches and his grip on the hatchet tightens, fingers brushing against yours. He can feel you trembling from the remaining adrenaline in your body. He hates how much he wants you to look away and how much he doesn’t. It was a maddening thrill to be so close to you, but he was sure he would never see you again after this.

The sounds of your breathing silenced all the sounds of the world around both of you. The tension between you was unbearably suffocating – as if it was you with the wooden handle pressed against your neck. Something, you didn’t know what, was threatening to snap. You didn’t know what you were thinking – if you were thinking.

You lean down, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that was as brief as it was forceful. It was like a car crash – a collision charged with adrenaline and defiance. You were taking and claiming your victory, proving once again that you could overpower him. There was a weakness in him, and you were proud to hold that title.

Your heart beats violently in your chest as you pull back. You can’t make out the emotions in his eyes, but by the way his lips part makes it clear – he’s just as shocked as you were, if not more.

This time, you were sure some kind of demon was possessing you. The kiss was slower this time, a curiosity driving you now. His lips are chapped, but not entirely unpleasant. You can feel the vibration of his grunt as the handle of the hatchet stays pressed to his neck. This isn’t enough, you think. It wasn’t enough to satiate the myriads of confusing emotions thrashing inside of you. But just as you let your lips part – just as the tip of your tongue touches his – you snap back into attention.

You sit up, still on his stomach and keeping him in place with his hatchet. It all seems to come back rushing at once – the wind in the trees, the chirping of birds. Your face burns as you stare down at him. He doesn’t say a word - you were getting tired of this.

Then, slowly, his lips curled into a crooked grin. The bandanna is still bunched up awkwardly over his eyes. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, as if not wanting to taste anything left of the kiss. You don’t know what any of this means – what twisted bond you just solidified. All you knew was that the air felt heavier than anything you’d ever experienced before.

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reidmarieprentiss · 3 months ago

Text

Too Damn Young: Part Two

Summary: You and Spencer have been separated for three years, is that enough time to move on? For you, it would appear it is. Spencer doesn't know what to do when he gets your save-the-date in the mail.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, hurt/comfort, angst

Warnings/Includes: talks of divorce, keeping secrets from partner, alcohol consumption, impulsive decisions, breakups, argument with intoxicated Spencer, happy ending

Word count: 14k

a/n: sorry this took so long i got a very specific case of writer's block for this story ://

main masterlist part one

Three years had passed since Spencer Reid had moved away from you, but despite the physical distance, the love and bond you shared had managed to survive. Though the romantic part of your relationship had ended, your friendship remained strong and unbreakable.

Spencer kept you updated on his work at the BAU, sharing stories from the field and the challenges he faced. When your mom got married, knowing how difficult that event was for you, Spencer took time off from work to attend the wedding with you. His support was unwavering, even when he couldn’t be there in person. You would visit Diana when Spencer couldn’t, helping out in ways that kept you connected not only to him but also to his family.

Spencer continued to speak with your father regularly, keeping that connection alive even as your lives had diverged in different directions. In all, the two of you remained close, and your friendship had evolved into something even more profound, built on shared experiences, trust, and the deep understanding that comes from truly knowing each other.

A rock was thrown into the friendship you shared with Spencer, however, when he received a save-the-date card in the mail, addressed to him. As soon as he saw your name on it, so many emotions swarmed through his body that it made him physically ill. He scanned the card, his hands trembling as he tried to process the words. You were getting married. Again.

Spencer hadn’t even known you were seeing anyone, and now you were marrying someone? The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. His stomach twisted, and before he could stop it, he wretched and threw up, the shock and emotions overwhelming him completely.

He knew, logically, that the two of you were long since over. He had tried to move on. He had seen people off and on, but never took anything too seriously, never fully allowed himself to fall. Because, in the back of his mind, Spencer had always assumed that the two of you were destined to find your way back to each other. He never let go of that hope, and now, seeing your save-the-date, that hope was shattered.

In a moment of sheer panic and desperation, Spencer dialed Derek’s number, his voice breaking as he begged, “Please, Derek… come over, I—I need you.” He was crying, the words tumbling out incoherently, leaving Derek no choice but to rush to his best friend’s side, not knowing what had caused such an outburst of emotion.

When Derek arrived, Spencer had managed to somewhat compose himself, though the distress was still written all over his face. He motioned for Derek to sit, and with shaky breaths, he spilled everything. From the day you and Spencer met in Tahoe, to the whirlwind of dating, to your marriage, and ultimately, the divorce. Spencer had kept this part of his life hidden from the team, only ever referring to you as a “friend from college,” never revealing the deep connection the two of you once shared.

Derek listened, taking it all in with wide eyes, surprised but trying to make sense of it. Spencer had never been one to open up about personal matters, let alone something this big.

Then, Spencer threw the save-the-date card onto the table in front of Derek, the final piece of the puzzle falling into place. Derek picked it up, his face softening with understanding. He could see why this had devastated Spencer, why the younger man had broken down.

“Man… I didn’t know,” Derek said quietly, his voice filled with empathy. “I didn’t know you were still holding onto that.”

Spencer rubbed his eyes, his whole body slumped in defeat. “I thought… I thought maybe one day… we’d find our way back to each other. But now… she’s marrying someone else.”

Derek shook his head, unsure of what advice to offer. How do you console someone who’s just realized the future they’d been holding onto no longer existed?

“I’m sorry, Reid,” Derek sighed, pulling Spencer into a tight hug, feeling the weight of his friend's emotions. He didn’t know what else to say. He could feel how deeply this was hurting Spencer, and it pained him to see his best friend like this. “What are you going to do?”

Spencer leaned into Derek’s embrace, his body still trembling slightly as he huffed out a breath. “I guess… I’m going to the wedding,” he said, his voice filled with resignation. “She’s my best friend. I can’t… not be there for her.”

Derek, trying to find a way to lift the mood, jolted Spencer a bit, grinning mischievously. “Excuse you? I thought your best friend was sitting in front of you right now.”

A small laugh escaped Spencer, a brief moment of light in the middle of his turmoil. “You're right,” he admitted, chuckling softly. “Thank you, Derek. Really.”

Derek smiled, glad to have gotten a laugh out of him, but he knew it would take more than that to pull Spencer out of his spiral. So, for the rest of the day, Derek stayed by his side, doing whatever Spencer wanted—whether it was playing chess, watching documentaries, or just sitting in silence. Anything to keep his mind off the fact that the love of his life was getting married to someone else.

And, perhaps worst of all, she hadn’t told him anything about it until the save-the-date arrived. That, Derek knew, was what was really eating at Spencer—the idea that he wasn’t as much a part of your life as he once thought.

—

Spencer hadn’t reached out since receiving your save-the-date, unable to find the right words. Instead, he threw himself into spending more time with his colleagues and friends, agreeing to every social outing they planned. He was trying to distract himself, to drown out the constant noise in his head about what your upcoming marriage meant for him.

Tonight, he found himself whiskey tasting with Rossi, Hotch, and Derek. As the evening wore on and the whiskey flowed freely, their conversations grew looser, more personal. Rossi and Hotch began comparing their divorce stories, laughing about their past pain and the fleeting joys of their marriages. Derek looked over at Spencer, knowing full well the turmoil going on beneath his quiet exterior, being the only one who knew about Spencer’s secret heartbreak.

Spencer seemed to be somewhere else entirely, lost in his own world, not really listening to the conversation. Derek wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but he was silently relieved when Spencer excused himself to go to the bathroom. Maybe it was better if he didn’t hear the rest of this conversation.

But instead of heading to the bathroom, Spencer stepped outside, pulling out his phone and making a decision he would soon regret. His fingers fumbled as he dialed your number. The alcohol had loosened his inhibitions, and all the pent-up frustration and hurt were boiling over.

The worst part? You answered.

“Spencer? Hi!” Your voice was warm but slightly distracted. “I’m still at work, is everything okay?”

Of course. The time difference. He hadn’t even thought about that. “I’m fine, Y/N,” he hiccuped, clearly not fine at all. “Well, no, I’m not. Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone?”

You were silent on the other end for a moment, the weight of his question hanging in the air. Finally, you sighed deeply. “Spencer… can we not do this right now? I can call you tomorrow.”

“No!” Spencer's voice was louder than intended, his frustration rising. “We need to do this now. I deserve an explanation.”

You sighed again, and Spencer could hear you moving around, likely retreating to a quieter place in your office. “Okay. Fair enough. I started seeing Noa about two years ago. They’re amazing, Spence. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“So you thought sending me a save-the-date was better?” Spencer’s voice raised again, the whiskey fueling his anger. “That’s messed up, and you know it.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “I was scared. I’m sorry.”

Spencer’s brain was spinning, but one thought stood out. “Wait… you’ve only been together for two years?” His voice had grown darker, accusatory.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, okay?” you said, your voice strained but still calm, trying to diffuse the situation.

“You’re just rushing into marriage again!” Spencer shot back, the words spilling out before he could stop them. His frustration, his heartbreak, everything he had buried for the last five years, it all came pouring out.

“What?” you asked, your voice coming out small and weak, despite the fact that you wished it had been strong, confident, maybe even cold. But it wasn’t. The hurt you felt made it tremble.

Spencer scoffed, his frustration bubbling over. “You’re just jumping into another relationship without thinking about the consequences.”

You blinked, shocked at the accusation. “How would you know what I’m doing? I haven’t seen you since my mom’s wedding… that was three years ago,” you shot back, your voice firmer now, though still tinged with hurt.

“Right, how could I forget?” Spencer’s voice grew louder, his emotions spiraling out of control. “You were flirting with every pair of long legs that walked by, in front of me!”

You were taken aback, your heart pounding in disbelief. “What? No, I did not! And besides, what would it matter if I did?” you spat out, the pain in your voice evident now. “You left me, Spencer.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and full of unresolved heartache.

“Is that how you remember it?” Spencer asked, his heart breaking even more, his voice softer now but filled with sorrow.

“That’s how it happened,” you said, a tear slipping down your cheek, because as much as you loved him, as much as he had been a huge part of your life, the wound of his departure was still raw.

“Well, I’m very sorry that’s how you see it,” Spencer said, his voice steadying now as the alcohol-induced haze began to lift, leaving behind the weight of reality.

You nodded, even though you knew Spencer couldn’t see you, and tried to keep your voice from breaking. “Mhm,” you managed, holding back the sob that was lodged in your throat.

“That’s it?” Spencer pressed, his frustration giving way to something closer to disbelief.

“Mhm,” you repeated, not trusting yourself to say much more without unraveling completely.

“You don’t have anything else you want to say to me?”

A quiet, almost broken, “Mm mm,” was all you could offer. The tears were too close now, and speaking felt impossible.

There was a long pause on Spencer’s end, the tension between you both palpable even through the phone. “Bye, Y/N,” he said finally, the weight of those two words heavier than you’d ever imagined. And with that, Spencer hung up.

He returned to his friends at the whiskey tasting, but his heart wasn’t in it anymore. He opted out of the rest of the drinks, choosing instead to just sit in their company, trying to find some comfort in the camaraderie, even though his mind was miles away, back with you, replaying the conversation in his head.

—

As you sat in your office, the weight of the conversation with Spencer bearing down on you, the flood of emotions finally broke free. Your body shook with barely concealed sobs, and as much as you tried to hold it together, it was too much. The truth was painfully clear—you knew why you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Spencer about Noa. How could you possibly tell the man you were still in love with that you were marrying someone else, someone who was there to fill the void he left behind?

It wasn’t that you didn’t love Noa. You did—deeply. They were everything you could ask for in a partner—amazing, generous, loving, and you were genuinely ecstatic to marry them. But that didn’t change the fact that Spencer was still there in your heart, occupying a space that no one else ever could.

A knock sounded at the door, breaking through your thoughts. “Y/N? Sweetie, can I come in?” Alexi’s voice came from the other side. Your assistant manager, your number two, and more importantly, your best friend.

You wiped at your tear-streaked cheeks, trying to pull yourself together. “Yeah.”

Alexi pushed open the door, taking one look at your broken figure and immediately coming over. “Oh baby, what happened?” they asked, their voice soft with concern.

You sighed, pushing yourself up to sit on the desk beside them. “Spencer called… he’s upset.”

Alexi didn’t need you to explain more. They knew everything—they had been there after Spencer had left, helping you pick up the pieces of your life. They wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close in a comforting embrace. “I told you he wouldn’t react well,” they said, never one to sugarcoat the truth.

You let out a tearful laugh, nodding. “You did. And I should’ve listened.”

Alexi rubbed your back, offering silent support before they asked, “Are you going to tell Noa?”

You shook your head immediately. “No. Noa doesn’t need to know.”

Alexi’s sigh was deep, full of the understanding but firm truth they always brought to your conversations. “Yes, they do, sweetie. Spencer is always going to be a part of you. Noa deserves to know all of the person they’re marrying.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the truth of their words but resisting it all the same. “Spencer is… he’s mine, you know?” Your voice cracked slightly. “He’s a part of my past, encapsulated like a snow globe just for me. I don’t want Noa to know all the details. What if they don’t want to marry me if they do?”

Alexi squeezed your shoulder gently, looking you directly in the eyes. “Y/N… keeping secrets isn’t a good way to start a marriage. If Noa decides they don’t want to marry you because of what happened, then that’s how it’s going to be. But they deserve to know the whole person they’re committing to.”

The weight of their words sank in, but it didn’t make it any easier. You knew they were right. But admitting the depth of what Spencer still meant to you, and risking ruining another relationship because of it, felt impossible. Spencer was yours—a part of you that no one else could touch. And you didn’t want to lose anyone else by dragging him into your present, when he was meant to stay in the past, locked away safely in your heart and mind.

So you went along with the wedding planning, trying to stay present, but the excitement you had once felt for this kind of event was dimmed. Your moms, both of them now, took charge, pulling you and Alexi along for dress shopping. You went through the motions, smiling when you were supposed to, but in the back of your mind, it felt like something was always missing. Maybe it was because you had done this before—planning a wedding, preparing for a future you thought was set in stone. That time, you were marrying your best friend, your soulmate. Nothing could have brought you down.

Now, though, it felt like everything was falling apart.

You found a dress you didn’t hate, but when you discovered it wasn’t made in your size, your heart sank. The tailoring bills would be through the roof. And there was no way you could ask your parents to help with another wedding, let alone explain that to Noa. So you settled for a different dress, something more practical, less special. It was a compromise, and one of many.

Then there were the flowers—your (second) favorite flowers, the ones you had dreamed of having at your wedding since you got engaged. But you couldn’t have them. As it turned out, Noa was allergic. How that had eluded you for two years, you’d never know, but it felt like another loss, another thing you had to give up.

The food? That was another issue entirely. Noa was vegan and gluten-free, which was fine—you supported them in that. But it meant you couldn’t have any of the dishes you wanted at your wedding, and the excitement over picking a menu disappeared entirely. It wasn’t about the food; it was about the mounting compromises that made you feel like you were losing more of yourself in the process.

Then, as if the universe wanted to add insult to injury, the live band you’d booked canceled last minute. They refunded half the deposit, but it wasn’t nearly enough to book a new band, and you were left scrambling for a backup.

It was all a mess. And through it all, the only RSVP that mattered to you—Spencer’s—still remained unanswered. Even Diana had agreed to come, and your father had offered to travel with her from Nevada. But Spencer’s name sat unmarked on the list, and the weight of his silence felt heavier than everything else combined.

—

It was late, and the bullpen was eerily quiet—long after everyone else had gone home for the night. The soft, dim glow of desk lamps was the only light illuminating the space, and Spencer sat hunched over at his desk, staring blankly at a stack of files, though his mind was miles away. He couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t shake the thoughts of you that had been circling his mind like an endless loop ever since that phone call. The way your voice had cracked, the words you hadn't said hanging heavy in the silence afterward.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, the weight of it all pressing down on his chest like a vice. Spencer didn’t notice Penelope walking out of her office until she was standing right in front of him, her bright pink coat draped over one arm, a concerned look etched on her face.

“Hey, Boy Wonder,” she said softly, leaning against his desk. “What are you still doing here? It’s way past your bedtime.”

Spencer glanced up at her, forcing a small, weak smile that didn't reach his eyes. “Just... thinking, I guess,” he murmured, looking back down at the files in front of him, though he wasn’t really reading them.

Penelope’s eyes narrowed slightly. She knew Spencer well enough to recognize when something was wrong, and this didn’t look like his typical bouts of insomnia. “Uh-uh, that won’t fly,” she said, her tone firm but gentle. “What’s really going on, Reid?”

He hesitated, his fingers nervously tapping against the edge of his desk. He didn’t know where to begin, how to explain the mess of feelings tangled up inside him—the regret, the longing, the fear that he’d lost you for good. But Penelope had a way of pulling things out of him, and before he knew it, he was talking. Telling her everything.

“It’s... it’s about someone from my past,” Spencer admitted, staring down at his hands. He could feel the heat rising in his face, the weight of the secret that he’d kept for so long bearing down on him. “Her name is Y/N. We... we were close.”

Penelope’s eyes widened as she quickly pulled out the chair across from Spencer and sat down, leaning in closer. “Wait, wait, wait, slow down,” she said, a look of shock and curiosity flashing across her face. “Who is Y/N? And how do I not know about her? You’ve never mentioned her before, Spencer!”

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, fidgeting nervously. “That’s kind of the point. I never told anyone. Well... except Morgan, recently. But... it’s complicated, Penelope.”

“Complicated how?” Penelope’s voice was gentle, but there was an urgency to it—a desire to understand. “How... close were you two?”

Spencer hesitated, his fingers tapping anxiously against the edge of his desk. He knew he couldn’t keep everything bottled up any longer. “We were... really close. We met when we were both eighteen, and we... got married. And then divorced. And then stayed friends,” he said quickly, the words tumbling out all at once. “And I never told anyone because it felt like... like this part of my life that didn’t fit with everything else. Like a different person I used to be.”

Penelope’s jaw dropped, and for once, she was speechless. Her eyes darted around his face, as if trying to comprehend the enormity of what he’d just shared. “Spencer Reid, you were married?” she finally managed to say, her voice squeaking at the end. “And divorced? And you never... you never said anything?”

Spencer gave a small, helpless shrug. “Yeah. I know, I should’ve told you all a long time ago. But it’s... it’s a lot to explain, and I guess I just... buried it.”

Penelope blinked a few times, trying to process everything. “Okay, okay,” she said, holding up a hand to stop herself from spiraling. “So... Y/N. You were married to her. And now you’re... friends?”

Spencer nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety at finally sharing this part of his life. “Yeah, friends. We kept in touch over the years. But she’s... she’s getting married again. And I... I found out through a save-the-date in the mail.”

“Whoa, wait, wait,” Penelope cut in, holding up her hand. “She’s getting married? Like, married married? And she didn’t tell you?”

He nodded, the pain in his chest tightening at the memory. “Yeah. And I got upset, and I—I probably said some things I shouldn’t have. And now... I can’t stop thinking about her, and it’s driving me crazy.”

Penelope’s expression softened, her eyes filled with understanding. She reached across the desk, placing her hand over Spencer’s. “Spencer,” she said softly, “you know why you can’t stop thinking about her, right?”

Spencer sighed, biting his lip as he nodded. “Because I still love her,” he admitted, the words feeling both like a relief and a weight off his shoulders. “I never stopped. I thought I was fine with just being her friend, with us being apart, but...”

“But you’re not fine,” Penelope finished for him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “And you don’t have to be. She was your first love, and that kind of thing doesn’t just go away.”

“I know.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “But she’s engaged, and she seems happy. I can’t just... disrupt her life like that.”

Penelope let out a soft huff, her eyes full of determination. “Spencer Reid, I know you like to overthink things, but this is one of those times where you need to be honest. If you have feelings for her, if you think there’s a chance—any chance—that she feels the same way, then you owe it to yourself to tell her. Before it’s too late.”

Spencer looked up at her, a flicker of hope mixing with fear in his eyes. “But what if it is too late? What if... what if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I just make everything worse?”

Penelope’s smile was soft but firm, her voice steady as she spoke. “That’s a risk you’ll have to take, Reid. But it’s better to take that risk than to spend the rest of your life wondering what if. You deserve to be happy. And if she’s the person who makes you happy, then you need to fight for that.”

Spencer didn’t respond right away, the weight of her words settling over him as he considered them. He had spent so long running from his feelings, trying to bury them under the guise of friendship, trying to convince himself that he was okay with you moving on. But the truth was, he wasn’t okay. And maybe, just maybe, he needed to do something about it.

“Thanks, Penelope,” he said quietly, a small, genuine smile finally tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I... I think I needed to hear that.”

She grinned, standing up and patting his shoulder. “Anytime, genius. Now go home, get some rest, and think about what you’re going to say. You’ve got this.”

And with that, she walked away, leaving Spencer alone in the quiet bullpen, but with a sense of clarity he hadn’t felt in years. He knew what he needed to do. It was terrifying, it was messy, but it was right.

He needed to talk to you. To tell you how he felt. Before it really was too late.

—

The hours of the night ticked by slowly as Spencer lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling of his apartment. Every attempt to sleep had been thwarted by the constant thoughts of you—the weight of the conversation with Penelope, the memories of your time together, and the sharp, raw feeling that he was running out of time. He couldn’t shake it. Every breath felt heavier than the last, and the silence of his apartment only amplified the whirlwind of emotions crashing around in his head.

At some point, the moonlight gave way to the faintest hint of dawn, but still, Spencer didn’t sleep. He just lay there, feeling like a boy again, filled with that same sense of panic and yearning he hadn’t felt in years. But there, in the early morning light, it finally hit him—what he had to do.

He shot up in bed, heart pounding, the idea forming fully in his mind. He had to tell you. He couldn’t wait any longer; he couldn’t let the fear, or doubt, or whatever this was, stop him. He had to tell you how he felt, face-to-face. Whatever happened, whatever you said, at least then he could say he tried.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was on his feet, pacing the length of his room, grabbing his phone, his wallet, hastily packing a bag. He barely had time to think the plan through—there was no plan. There was only the need to see you, to make things right, or at least to make his feelings known. He booked a flight to California within minutes, his hands shaking as he entered his credit card details, the urgency pushing him forward with every click.

The airport was a blur of noise and motion. The world seemed to move around him while his focus remained narrowed to a single thought—you. Spencer sat in his seat on the plane, the hours of the flight feeling endless as his knee bounced restlessly, and his fingers drummed against the armrest. He had no idea what he would say to you, how he would find the words to make sense of everything. He only knew that he had to see you.

When the plane finally landed, the sun was bright and warm, the California heat a stark contrast to the cool air of Virginia. He didn’t even take a moment to collect himself; he just grabbed his bag and rushed through the terminal, out into the familiar streets he hadn’t seen in years. The world around him blurred with motion and sound, but none of it registered. His only thought was getting to you.

But as Spencer stepped outside of the airport, the rush of determination he felt on the plane quickly started to fizzle out. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut—he had no idea where you lived anymore. The apartment you had shared when you were married was long gone, and though he kept up with you through your phone calls and letters, he didn’t know if you and your fiancé had found a place of your own, if you were living together at all.

He stood on the sidewalk, the California sun beating down on him, making him feel both restless and lost. There was no time to panic, though; he had come all this way, and he couldn’t just stand there like a fool. He needed to find you. And fast.

The next best thing was to hail a cab and give the driver directions to the one place he knew you would eventually be—your bookstore. He paid the fare quickly and grabbed his bags, rushing inside the shop, his eyes darting around, scanning the familiar shelves, the worn floorboards, the comforting smell of old books.

A bell above the door chimed as he stepped inside, and a young employee behind the counter looked up, offering a polite smile. “Hi, welcome in,” they said, but their voice didn’t really register. Spencer was too caught up in the whirlwind of his thoughts, in the desperation that had brought him here.

“Is Y/N here?” he rushed out, his voice high with nerves, his hands clenched tightly around the strap of his bag.

The employee’s smile faltered slightly at the urgency in his voice, and they gave him a curious look, one that seemed to ask who the hell he was and why he seemed so frantic. “Um, no, she’s not here,” they said slowly. “She’s wedding planning today.”

Spencer’s heart sank further. Of course, you’d be busy with wedding planning—it was all you were doing these days. But the reality of it stung, like a reminder that he was too late, that you were already too far gone into your new life.

“Do you know where I could find her?” he asked, trying to keep the pleading tone out of his voice but failing. He was holding onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, he could track you down.

But the employee just shook their head, their face softening into a look of pity. “No, sorry. I really don’t. I think she’s meeting with a wedding planner or looking at venues, something like that.”

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling the walls of the bookstore closing in on him. He had been so sure of what he needed to do, so convinced that coming here would give him the answers he was looking for. But now, standing there, with no clue where to go next, he felt like a man adrift, a stranger in a place that was once so familiar.

“Okay,” he managed to choke out, trying to keep his voice steady. “Thank you.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” the employee replied, their eyes still fixed on him like he was a puzzle they couldn’t quite figure out.

Spencer turned on his heel and walked out of the store, the bell chiming behind him as he left. He stood on the sidewalk, taking a deep breath to steady himself, to fight back the rising panic. He didn’t know where you were. He had no idea how to find you. And he had no plan.

But he wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.

Spencer stood on the sidewalk, the desperation clawing at his chest like a living thing. His heart pounded, the reality of his situation finally starting to sink in. He had come all this way, but he didn’t know where to find you.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, his fingers shaking as he quickly dialed Penelope. She picked up on the first ring, her voice chirping through the line. “Hey, genius, what’s up?”

“Penelope,” he said quickly, the urgency in his voice making it clear that this wasn’t a casual call. “I need your help. I need to know where Y/N lives. Can you find her address?”

“What? Wait, why? Spencer, what’s going on?” Penelope’s voice was full of confusion, and he could hear her clicking away on her keyboard in the background.

“There’s no time to explain. Please, just... please, Penelope, can you find it?” He knew he was asking a lot, putting her on the spot like this, but he didn’t know what else to do. He needed to see you.

“Okay, okay, hang on,” she said, the rapid clicking of her keyboard growing louder as she searched for your information. “Got it. She lives at XXXX S Higuera St.”

“Thank you,” Spencer said, the words rushing out of him like a breath he’d been holding in. “I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” Penelope said, her voice somewhere between worried and annoyed. “Now go get her, cowboy.”

Spencer hung up and flagged down another cab, rattling off your address to the driver, who sped off in the direction of your house. The drive felt longer than it should have, every minute dragging on like an eternity, the silence in the car filled only with the beating of his heart and the hum of the engine. He watched the city rush by in a blur, every moment bringing him closer to you.

When they finally pulled up to the row of houses, Spencer fumbled with his wallet, throwing bills at the driver and mumbling a hurried “Keep the change,” before jumping out, his bag slung over his shoulder. He stood in front of your house, staring at the navy-blue door that stood between him and you. This was it. There was no going back now.

He lifted his hand and knocked, the sound echoing louder than he anticipated, every thud ringing in his ears. And then he waited, holding his breath as he heard footsteps approaching the door, his whole body tense and shaking with anticipation.

The door swung open, and there you were. You looked different than he’d remembered, yet exactly the same. Your eyes widened in shock, your phone still pressed to your ear.

“Uh, Alexi, I’m going to have to call you back,” you said into the phone, your voice thick with surprise. “Yeah, I’m fine.” There was a pause, and then you said softly, “Thank you, love you too. Bye.” You hung up, your eyes never leaving his, the weight of the moment hanging heavy between you.

“Spencer? What the fuck?” you finally said, and the sound of your voice hit him like a punch—familiar, angry, bewildered, and all of it wrapped in a painful confusion.

He took a breath, trying to steady himself, to find the words he’d rehearsed in his mind a hundred times, but they all fled as he stood there, face-to-face with you. He was speechless, overwhelmed by everything he felt, and everything he hadn’t let himself feel for so long.

“I—” he started, but his voice faltered. He took another breath, gathering his thoughts. “I know this is... a surprise. I know you’re mad. But I had to come, Y/N. I had to see you. I just... I need to talk to you.”

“You couldn’t call?” you asked, the mix of surprise and annoyance evident in your voice. You were clearly caught off guard by his sudden appearance, and you had every right to be. Spencer was out of breath, the tension between you almost unbearable as he searched for the right words.

“It’s too important,” he managed, his voice a blend of urgency and regret. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him, the desperation to make you understand why he was here.

You stared at him for a moment longer, a storm of emotions flashing across your face—confusion, frustration, and something softer that he couldn't quite place. “Okay... come in.” Your voice was softer now, but guarded.

You stepped back, allowing him to walk into the foyer. The smell of your home washed over him—familiar, yet different from the last place you shared together. He followed as you led him into the living room, the warmth of the space feeling like an extension of you. The cozy seating, soft lighting, and small personal touches made it welcoming and lived-in.

“Just... stay here for a minute,” you said quietly before disappearing into another room, leaving Spencer standing awkwardly by the couch. He took in everything—the framed photos on the walls, the plants that seemed to thrive under your care, the comfortable arrangement of the furniture. It all felt so you, and so foreign to him at the same time.

After a few minutes, you returned, carrying two cups of tea in your hands. You set one down in front of him and sat down across from him, holding your own cup tightly, as if it was anchoring you. “Sorry,” you murmured, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t have your brand anymore.”

Spencer gave a small, understanding nod, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s okay,” he said softly. He cradled the cup between his hands, feeling the warmth seep through his fingers. He didn’t know how to start, how to break the silence that felt so loud between you. All he knew was that he needed to be here, to find the right words, to make sense of this tangled mess of feelings.

The only sound was the faint clinking of the spoon against the porcelain as you stirred your tea, neither of you looking at each other, both waiting for someone to break the silence.

Spencer glanced down at the steam rising from his cup, feeling the burn of your words more than the heat of the tea. He knew you were right—the last time you spoke, things were... ugly. Painful. He had been angry, and confused, and felt like he was losing you all over again.

“Why are you here, Spencer?” you sighed, your voice carrying the exhaustion of all the times you’d thought about him, about the complicated knot of your past. “Last time we talked, you seemed pretty pissed.”

He winced, gripping the cup tighter, feeling the porcelain edge bite into his skin. “I know,” he said quietly, finally daring to look up and meet your eyes. “I was... I was angry. And I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to take it out on you like that. I—” He paused, fumbling for the right words. “I shouldn’t have called you, not like that. It wasn’t fair.”

You stayed quiet, your eyes searching his face, waiting for the explanation you knew was coming. Spencer felt himself shrinking under the weight of your gaze, but he pressed on, knowing this was the only chance he had to make things right. “I came here because... because I need to talk to you. To see you.” He took a breath, the words coming out more rushed now, desperate. “And I know it’s selfish, but I couldn't stop thinking about you—about us. About everything we never said.”

The tension hung in the air, like a line pulled taut between you, ready to snap. He leaned forward, his voice pleading. “Please, just hear me out. Let me say what I came here to say.”

You felt your blood drain from your face, a cold, tingling numbness spreading through your body. This was it, the conversation you’d been dreading—and yet, somehow, you knew it was inevitable. Your heart hammered against your ribs, your skin prickling with anxiety as sweat began to bead on your upper lip. You swallowed hard, gripping your cup tightly, using it as your anchor, grounding yourself in the reality of this moment.

All you could do was nod. There were so many things you wanted to say, to shout, to demand from him—but the words lodged themselves in your throat, refusing to come out. So, you stayed silent, allowing Spencer to speak, knowing you needed to hear whatever he had traveled all this way to say.

He took a deep breath, his fingers shaking slightly as he set his cup down on the table. He couldn’t look at you directly; it was too much. Instead, his eyes darted around the room, focusing on anything but your face, as he tried to gather his thoughts.

“I know this is... a lot,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I know that I have no right to come here and just... drop all of this on you.” He ran a hand through his hair, a familiar nervous gesture that made your heart ache. “But I need to be honest, because I can’t keep living with these... feelings and regrets.”

He finally forced himself to look at you, his eyes searching yours, pleading silently for you to understand. “When I called you that night, I was angry. Not only at you, but at myself. Because I realized I’ve never let you go. I thought that maybe if I stayed away, if I just... buried everything, it would go away. But it hasn’t.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat, his words hitting you like a wave, pulling you under. Your heart pounded harder, hope, fear, and dread swirling in your chest.

Spencer’s voice shook as he continued, the vulnerability in his words cutting through the tension. “I came here to tell you that I still love you,” he said, his eyes burning into yours, his face a mask of raw emotion. “I don’t know what that means for us, or if it changes anything. I just... I needed you to know. Because I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least tell you the truth.”

The silence that followed was deafening, your mind racing as you absorbed his confession. This was the moment you had both avoided for so long, the moment where everything hung in the balance. You could feel your heart hammering against your ribs, each beat echoing in the room as you processed his words.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Just... tell me what you’re thinking. Say something. Anything.”

“What do you want me to say?” you choked out, your voice strained and small, the whirlwind of emotions clawing at your insides making it impossible to find the right words. Everything he was saying felt like it came from a different lifetime—a different you, a different him, a different version of the love you used to share.

“Anything, please,” Spencer begged, his eyes wide and frantic as he searched your face for a hint of what you were feeling. “What are you thinking?”

You swallowed, feeling the words spill out before you could stop them. “I’m getting married,” you said, the reality of it crashing down on you like a wave.

Spencer’s head dropped immediately, his shoulders slumping as if all the life had drained out of him. “I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, sounding as if saying the words broke something inside him. “I just thought maybe—”

“Maybe?” You couldn’t keep the sharpness from your voice, the anger and pain flooding through your system and finding their way into the space between you. “Maybe what?” You snapped, your emotions boiling over, unable to place what exactly you were feeling—love, anger, guilt, sadness, all at once, and none of them making sense. “You think you can just show up here and what? That I’d—”

But before you could finish, before either of you could continue spiraling down this road of raw and messy confessions, the jingle of keys being put into a lock pierced through the tense air, and both of your heads snapped toward the front door. Your blood ran cold as you realized what it meant.

Noa was home.

Your fiancé stepped inside, the warm light from the hallway spilling in behind them, painting the moment in a surreal glow. They were smiling, the familiar, comforting smile that you had come to know so well—one that could normally bring you peace. But now, the sight of them there, standing in the doorway while Spencer sat on your couch, made your heart plummet.

“Hey, babe,” Noa’s voice was light and warm as they shrugged off their jacket, the smile still on their face, though it faltered slightly when they saw Spencer sitting in the living room. “Who’s this?”

Your throat tightened, your mouth suddenly dry, and you felt your voice catch as you tried to find the words to explain, to introduce, to do anything that made sense.

Spencer, too, had gone completely still, his face pale, as if the reality of your life without him had hit all at once. This was the moment he hadn’t prepared for, the part of your life that he didn’t fit into, and it was staring him straight in the face.

“Hey, baby,” you said, the words catching in your throat, but forcing them out with a smile that you hoped looked normal, even as you felt Spencer flinch beside you. He knew that phrase all too well—the way you’d say it when you greeted him after a long day, the warmth and comfort that came with it. But now it was meant for someone else, and the reality of that cut through him like a knife.

Noa’s eyes darted between the two of you, clearly trying to make sense of the situation, their smile wavering. “This is Spencer,” you continued, trying to keep your voice steady, trying to make the introduction sound casual, like this wasn’t a huge, life-altering moment. “Um, he’s an old friend. He was in the neighborhood and... stopped by.”

You hated the way the lie sat on your tongue, the way it felt so heavy, so wrong. But what choice did you have? How were you supposed to explain who Spencer was to you—what he was to you? Especially now, when everything was in chaos and your heart felt like it was being split in two. So, you forced yourself to smile, to make it seem like there was nothing more to it than a surprise visit from someone you used to know.

Noa’s face softened a bit, their guard dropping as they took a step closer, holding out a hand to Spencer. “Oh, nice to meet you,” they said kindly, their eyes gentle and curious. “I’ve heard a lot about Y/N’s friends from back in the day, but I don’t think your name ever came up.”

Spencer managed a tight smile, shaking Noa’s hand as he fought to steady himself. “Yeah, it’s... nice to meet you too,” he said, his voice quieter than usual, the discomfort and awkwardness bleeding into every word. It was all so surreal, so painfully normal on the surface when everything underneath was chaos.

Noa looked between the two of you again, oblivious to the tension, and then smiled wider, turning their attention back to you. “I picked up takeout from that place you love on 5th. Figured we could have a low-key night in.”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat. “That sounds perfect. Really... perfect.”

Noa’s hand slipped around your waist, and you could feel Spencer's eyes burning into you, the unspoken words swirling around all of you like a storm. You knew you had to get him out of here—this wasn’t the time, and now was definitely not the place for whatever this was.

“Actually, um, Spencer was just leaving,” you said quickly, turning to him with pleading eyes. “Right, Spence?”

He looked at you, his expression unreadable, so many emotions passing through his eyes that it made you dizzy. But finally, he nodded, standing up slowly, the movement heavy with everything left unsaid. “Yeah... right. It was, um... nice seeing you, Y/N. Thanks for the tea.”

“Nonsense,” Noa cut in with a laugh, and you felt your stomach sink. “Join us,” they insisted, their voice warm and friendly as always. “I got enough for leftovers, but we’re fine with sharing, right, Y/N?” They gave you a light squeeze around your waist, completely unaware of the tension in the room, or the storm that had just been brewing moments before.

You felt your throat close up, the air around you becoming thin as panic gripped you. This was not supposed to happen—Spencer wasn’t supposed to stay, wasn’t supposed to be a part of this cozy, intimate meal with you and Noa. Your lives had already diverged, the gap too wide to bring together in a setting like this.

“Uh...” you started, your voice wavering, trying to find a way out of this without raising suspicion. But Noa’s hand was on your back, rubbing comforting circles, and they were looking at Spencer with nothing but open hospitality in their eyes.

“Come on, the more the merrier,” Noa urged, already turning to set their bags down on the counter, oblivious to the pleading look you gave Spencer.

Spencer’s face twisted with hesitation. He looked at you, then back at Noa, clearly torn between what he wanted and what he knew was best. “Really, I don’t want to intrude. I just... came to say hi.” His voice was small, and the vulnerability in it broke your heart all over again.

“No intrusion at all,” Noa said, already moving to unpack the takeout, arranging it on the table with a careless ease that made the whole situation seem almost normal. “I insist. Besides, you came all the way here. At least let us feed you before you head back.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat, the pressure of everything unsaid building up to a point you could barely contain. You could see the strain on Spencer’s face, the conflict in his eyes as he glanced between you and Noa. He didn’t want to be here, and you didn’t want him here either—not like this, not when it felt like every word spoken was laden with a secret.

But Noa’s smile was so open, so genuine, and your fiancé was already pulling plates out of the cabinet, laying them out for the three of you. You didn’t have it in you to make a scene, to start an argument you didn’t know how to finish.

“Spence... please, stay.” The words felt foreign as they left your mouth, and you hoped the slight tremor in your voice wasn’t noticeable. Noa didn't seem to pick up on it, too focused on setting the table and serving the food, but Spencer’s eyes caught yours, and you could see the depth of confusion and pain swimming behind them.

After a long moment, he gave a reluctant nod, sitting back down on the couch, his movements stiff and uneasy. “Okay... yeah, sure,” he said, forcing a polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll stay.”

“Great!” Noa’s voice was bright and full of excitement as they motioned for you both to come to the table. “Let's eat.” They sat down, already starting to pass out food, while you and Spencer found seats across from each other.

The table felt small, impossibly so, as if there was no space for all the emotions crammed into the room. And as the three of you sat down to eat, your mind raced, wondering how you were supposed to navigate this impossible dinner, with the man you once loved—and maybe still loved—sitting across from you, and the person you were supposed to marry right by your side.

“So, Spencer,” Noa began as they served out portions of food onto each plate, completely oblivious to the tension coiled like a spring between you and Spencer. “How long have you and Y/N known each other?”

You nearly dropped your fork, your hand trembling as you pretended to focus on your plate. You couldn’t look at Spencer; you didn’t know what expression he’d have or what he might say. All you could do was silently will him to keep it vague, to stick to the basics and not let anything slip that could unravel everything.

Spencer cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat, poking at the food on his plate with his fork. “Uh… a while,” he said carefully, his voice steady but low. “We, um, met when I moved for college.”

“Yeah? That’s awesome!” Noa beamed, seemingly thrilled to learn more about your past. “What did you study, Spence?”

You winced at the nickname, one you’d used so many times before but now sounded wrong coming from someone else. You could see the way Spencer’s eyes flickered at the mention of it, but he smiled tightly, glancing over at you for the briefest second before looking back at Noa. “I, um, studied a few things. Math, engineering, some psychology…” He trailed off, clearly trying to keep it as bland as possible, but the tension in the air was palpable.

Noa continued, blissfully unaware of the underlying currents in the conversation. “Wow, that’s impressive! And you’re just in town for a visit? Or work?”

Spencer hesitated, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he searched for a response that wouldn’t set off alarms. “Uh, just… passing through, actually. Thought I’d… catch up with Y/N while I was here,” he finally said, each word feeling carefully weighed, trying to sound nonchalant but unable to hide the slight tremor in his voice.

“That’s so nice,” Noa said warmly, looking between the two of you. “Y/N always talks about her old friends, but it’s great to finally meet one in person. I’m glad she keeps up with people from back then.”

You gave a tight, forced smile, your stomach churning as you felt like you were teetering on a knife’s edge. “Yeah, you know me, always staying in touch,” you said quickly, trying to steer the conversation away from Spencer, away from the past, away from everything that felt like a ticking time bomb ready to explode if prodded too much.

“So, how long are you staying?” Noa asked, turning their attention back to Spencer, still friendly and curious. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, hoping Spencer would take the hint and not make this any more complicated than it already was.

“Oh, not long,” he said, swallowing thickly. “Just a short trip.” He paused, glancing at you again, the weight of his gaze almost too much to bear. “I, um… didn’t plan on staying long.”

“That’s a shame,” Noa said, completely missing the tense undercurrent between you two. “It would’ve been nice to spend more time getting to know you. Seems like you two must have been pretty close back then.”

“Yeah… something like that,” Spencer said softly, his eyes drifting down to his plate, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe, every second of this conversation digging you deeper into a pit you weren’t sure how to get out of. You just prayed—silently, desperately—that Spencer would keep his words guarded and that Noa wouldn’t start connecting any dots you weren’t ready to explain.

“Y/N, sweetums, you’re being awfully quiet,” Noa teased with a playful nudge to your side, and you saw Spencer’s eyes flicker as he tried to mask a cringe at the pet name. You never liked that one; it felt odd to you, and Spencer could tell. But Noa had started calling you that long ago, and it was one of those things you’d grown used to.

You forced a smile, praying it looked genuine. “Just letting you and Spencer get to know each other,” you said, but your voice came out strained, barely holding up under the weight of the situation. You could feel your nerves fraying, as if every word that left your mouth was the wrong one.

Noa, still blissfully oblivious to the palpable tension, brightened with an idea. “Oh! Spencer, are you coming to the wedding?” they asked, and you felt your stomach twist in knots. You knew Spencer hadn’t RSVP’d, and you were terrified of how he would respond. You could see him falter for a moment, looking like a deer caught in headlights, and you quickly jumped in before things could get worse.

“Spencer works for the FBI,” you said, hoping your voice sounded casual, steady, anything other than what you were really feeling. “He said he’d come if he doesn’t have a case.” You looked at him meaningfully, praying he’d go along with it, hoping he wouldn’t take this opportunity to say something more revealing.

“Oh, wow!” Noa’s eyes lit up in admiration, turning to Spencer with genuine curiosity. “That’s incredible! We’ll save a spot for you just in case.”

“Uh… yeah, thanks,” Spencer mumbled, the awkwardness in his tone barely masked by the polite smile he forced onto his face.

Dinner went on like that—Noa doing most of the talking, you scrambling to keep things on track, and Spencer struggling to navigate every question without giving too much away. You couldn’t stop fidgeting, feeling like every minute was an hour as you tried to balance between keeping up appearances and making sure nothing slipped that would reveal the tangled web of your history.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, dinner ended. Noa, always the gracious host, brought out tea and ushered everyone to the living room. The three of you settled onto the couches, the warmth of the tea doing nothing to ease the tension in your body. You noticed how close Spencer was sitting to you, his knee almost touching yours, and how Noa, in contrast, seemed so relaxed, not sensing any of the chaos swirling beneath the surface.

“I should probably get going,” Spencer said suddenly, setting his cup down on the coffee table and pushing himself up from the couch. He looked between you and Noa, the tension clear on his face, the evening clearly wearing on him.

“Where are you staying?” Noa asked, genuinely curious. “Do you need a ride?” They sat up straighter, eager to be helpful, and you held your breath, knowing that Spencer likely didn’t have a plan—he rarely ever did.

Spencer hesitated, clearly trying to come up with a response. “Oh, um… I’m not sure. I, uh… hadn’t really thought that far.”

The silence stretched thin, your heart pounding as you prayed Noa wouldn’t say what you were terrified they would. But they did, without a second thought, without hesitation. “You can stay here!” they offered brightly, smiling at Spencer. “We have a guest room—it’s no trouble at all.”

Spencer froze, glancing over at you, his eyes wide with surprise. And you were sure yours mirrored the same panic. This was not part of the plan. You weren’t supposed to have him here, under the same roof. And yet, it was all happening too fast to stop it.

“Uh… that’s really generous, but I don’t want to intrude—” Spencer started, but Noa waved a hand dismissively.

“Please, it’s no trouble,” they insisted, their smile still warm and inviting. “You’re more than welcome to stay. Right, Y/N?” They looked to you for confirmation, and you could feel Spencer’s gaze on you, begging for an out.

“Yeah… of course,” you managed to choke out, your voice weak, betraying every emotion you were desperately trying to hide. “It’s, um, fine.”

And with that, Spencer was staying for the night, and you had no idea how you were going to get through it.

The three of you sat in the living room, forcing your way through some show on TV. But the tension in the air made it impossible to focus on anything other than the uneasy silence and the occasional awkward attempts at small talk. You laughed at all the wrong times, and every time your eyes met Spencer’s, you felt your stomach twist into knots. Noa, oblivious as ever, eventually declared they were ready to call it a night and headed to take their nightly shower.

You took the opportunity to help Spencer get settled in the guest room, your movements jerky and stiff, the weight of the day pressing down on you. He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck as you pulled spare linens out of the closet. The silence hung heavy between you, every unspoken word echoing through the small room.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer whispered finally, his voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t plan any of this… obviously.”

“No shit,” you replied, your tone sharper than you intended, but it was impossible to hide the anger and frustration building up inside you. It felt like everything was spiraling out of control, and you didn’t know how to fix it.

Spencer hung his head, staring down at his hands. “I’ll leave tomorrow,” he said quietly, like he was admitting defeat.

“I know you will,” you murmured, the words hollow as you hugged yourself, arms crossed tightly around your torso as if that could hold everything together.

With nothing left to say, you left the room, and went to bed. But sleep eluded you, the feeling of Noa’s arms wrapped around you offering none of the comfort you desperately needed. Their touch felt so different from Spencer’s—where he’d been gentle, familiar, their embrace felt confining, and the sound of their breath on your neck was a steady reminder of all the ways it wasn’t him. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, and you felt the guilt flood through you for even comparing them.

Eventually, Noa must’ve felt you finally drift off, because when they woke in the early morning, they carefully slipped out of bed, planting a kiss on your forehead before heading down the hall to start their day. They hadn’t forgotten about Spencer staying over, but they didn’t expect to hear his voice so early in the morning.

“Penelope, what do I do?” Spencer’s voice was muffled through the guest room door, and Noa’s hand froze on the doorknob to the bathroom as they listened. “I told her I love her, and then before she could even tell me how she felt, her fiancé came home. It’s… it’s a mess.”

Noa’s blood ran cold, their stomach dropping as they tried to process the words. Their breath hitched, and they pressed their back against the wall, suddenly afraid to be seen. They knew they shouldn’t be listening, but they couldn’t stop now.

Penelope’s voice came through faintly from Spencer’s phone, but they couldn’t make out her response.

“No, they don’t know Y/N and I were married. She clearly hasn’t had the guts to tell them.” Spencer’s words came out raw, full of frustration and sadness.

The confession hit Noa like a freight train. Married? They felt the walls of the hallway close in on them, the realization that they had never known the full truth of your relationship with Spencer, the truth that you’d never shared. It made their mind spin, and they backed away from the door, desperate to escape the overwhelming emotions crashing over them.

Noa didn’t confront you then, didn’t barge into the guest room or demand an explanation. Instead, they made their way out of the house quietly, slipping out like a ghost. They moved through the motions of their morning like a zombie, their mind racing, heart aching with every step. They needed to be alone, to think, to understand what they had overheard. And they would talk to you, eventually—but only once Spencer was gone.

When you woke up to the sharp sound of your phone ringing, you felt like you were swimming up through murky water, the events of the day before crashing back to you all at once. You squinted at the screen—it was Alexi, their name flashing insistently. You didn’t need to answer to know they’d be demanding an explanation for yesterday’s abrupt hang-up.

“Hey,” you croaked out, voice heavy with sleep and emotion.

“What the hell happened?” Alexi’s voice was stern, a mix of worry and frustration. “You hang up on me, and then I don’t hear from you all night. Spill.”

You sighed, running a hand over your face as you leaned back into the pillows. “Spencer showed up at my door yesterday… unannounced. He’s… he stayed the night,” you admitted, your voice cracking.

Alexi’s reaction was immediate. “He what? Y/N, what is going on?”

You spilled everything—how Spencer had flown out to see you, how Noa had unknowingly invited him to stay, how you’d spent the whole night on edge, and how every touch, every word, every look seemed to tear at your carefully built life. Your voice wavered as you confessed how hard it had been, the emotions you’d buried for years bubbling back to the surface in a way you couldn’t control.

“Okay,” Alexi’s voice softened. “So… do you still love him?”

The question hung in the air like a challenge, and you felt your breath hitch as a tear slipped down your cheek. You’d spent so long avoiding the answer to that question, convincing yourself that everything had changed, that you’d moved on. But when you finally spoke, it felt like the words had been buried for years, clawing their way out.

“I think I do,” you whispered through the tears, your voice trembling. “It’s like… being with Noa was always so easy, you know? I never had to compare the two. But seeing them together… talking to Spencer again… I see how much love he still holds for me, and I know I’ll never be able to give Noa that. I can’t… I can’t love them the way I loved Spencer.”

Alexi was silent on the other end, and you could hear them carefully thinking over their response, searching for the right thing to say. But before they could get a word out, you gasped, cutting them off mid-thought.

“I gotta go,” you said in a rush, sitting up so quickly that the room spun around you.

“What? No—Y/N, you can’t just hang up again! What is going on—?”

“Spencer,” you breathed, staring wide-eyed at the doorway. He was standing there, framed in the early morning light, his expression one of utter disbelief, and you knew instantly that he’d heard every word you’d just said.

“Do you mean that?” he asked, stepping into the room with slow, careful movements like he was approaching a fragile creature. His voice was so quiet, so vulnerable, you felt like it was wrapping around your heart and squeezing. “You still love me?”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. All you could do was sit there, your phone slipping from your fingers as you met his gaze, your heart pounding like it would break free from your chest. And you knew, in that moment, there was no more hiding, no more pretending that everything was fine. It was just you and Spencer, standing on the precipice of everything you’d left unsaid.

“Yes,” you whispered, voice cracking as tears welled in your eyes.

Spencer felt his own tears begin to blur his vision, his breath catching in his throat. “I love you too,” he said, the words spilling out like they’d been buried for years, his voice thick with emotion.

You let out a wet giggle through your own tears, and before you knew it, Spencer was sitting on the bed next to you, his hands reaching out to clasp yours. The warmth of his touch was comforting, familiar, and for a moment it felt like all those years apart had never happened. The weight of everything you’d both been holding in pressed down, making this moment both heartbreaking and hopeful.

“Can we… can we try again?” he asked, his voice hopeful, eyes searching yours as if waiting for a lifeline.

You shook your head, sniffling softly. “I’m still engaged, Spencer.”

His face fell slightly, but he stayed close, not letting go of your hands. “You just said you’ll never love them like you loved me.”

“I know,” you admitted, your voice a fragile whisper. “And it’s true… but I still have to talk to them, figure out what to do.”

Spencer nodded slowly, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles, grounding himself in the contact. “Do you… do you want to be with me?” he asked, voice trembling with the fear and hope of what your answer might be.

You stared into those beautiful, familiar eyes, the ones that once held your world, the ones you thought you’d never see again. “I think so,” you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips. “But, Spencer, I have my whole life here now. More so than ever… and you, you have a life in Virginia.”

“I don’t care,” he said with finality, his voice strong and certain, all doubt gone. “I don’t care, I will go anywhere to be with you. No job is more important than you.”

“Spence…” you murmured, your heart torn between what was and what could be, feeling the pull to him so strong it almost hurt.

“Sweetums,” he teased, the familiar grin spreading across his face, a flicker of the boyish charm you remembered.

“Too soon,” you laughed, shaking your head, but the sound of his voice, the way he said it, made it impossible to hold back the smile tugging at your lips. Even as your heart wrestled with the enormity of the moment, the warmth of Spencer’s presence wrapped around you like a comfort you never wanted to let go.

True to his word, Spencer left that morning, but he didn’t go back to Virginia. Instead, he checked into a hotel nearby, giving you the space he knew you needed while not quite ready to leave you behind.

When you finally heard the jingle of Noa’s keys in the door that evening, your stomach twisted with nerves. You had spent the entire day pacing, replaying the conversation with Spencer in your head, wondering what you would say to Noa, trying to untangle what you really wanted.

“Hey, baby,” You called, your tone neutral as they entered, hanging up their bag.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were married?” Noa asked casually, turning to face you, their eyes sharp with an edge you hadn’t heard before.

“What?” you stammered, feeling like the wind had just been knocked out of you. “I didn’t—”

“To Spencer,” Noa clarified, cutting you off, their voice still eerily calm. “You know, the man that I invited to dinner, who I let stay the night. The man who I made an absolute fool out of myself in front of. The man who told you he’s still in love with you.”

You felt your throat tighten, words failing as the weight of Noa’s calm anger pressed down on you like a heavy stone. Noa had never yelled—they didn’t need to. The steady, even tone made every word land like a blow.

“I didn’t—I don’t…” You struggled to form a coherent thought, desperate to defend yourself, but the truth was right there, undeniable.

“Do you love him?” Noa asked, and for a moment, their voice cracked, the tears finally shining in their eyes.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Do you love me?” they pressed, and the desperation in their eyes broke your heart all over again.

“Yes,” you said again, your own tears falling freely.

Noa took a shuddering breath, looking at you like they were seeing you for the first time. “Do you want to get married?” they asked, and the question hung between you like a fragile thread.

You shook your head, your voice breaking as you whispered, “No.”

Noa nodded, silent tears streaming down their face, and the acceptance in their expression was devastating. “Well,” they said softly, swallowing hard as they looked away, their world—your world—crumbling with that single word.

“Noa, I’m sorry,” you said, your voice trembling as you took a tentative step closer, hoping to reach them somehow through the hurt.

Noa nodded, but the gesture was more resigned than understanding. “It’s… what are we going to do?” they asked, their voice thick with uncertainty.

“What?” you asked, your confusion breaking through the tension.

“The wedding,” they clarified, their words heavy with practical sadness. “We have people coming, we paid for everything, we have a house together.”

“Yeah…” you sighed, feeling the weight of all the things that needed to be undone. “You, um, you can keep the house. And I’ll pay you back for the wedding… somehow. I’ll figure it out. And, uh, I’ll send out the cancellations… this is all my fault.”

“It is,” Noa agreed bluntly, and the truth of it stung. “Was the whole relationship a lie?”

“No! God, no,” you panicked, reaching out as if the truth could stop the pain. “Everything was real, I… I didn’t realize I still loved Spencer until I saw him again.”

“That’s it?” Noa’s voice wavered between disbelief and bitterness. “One night, and you’re calling off a whole wedding?”

You sighed, the exhaustion of the situation weighing you down. “I know it’s crazy, but… I’ve already been divorced once. I don’t want to do that again.”

Noa let out a hollow laugh, and for a moment, you saw a glimmer of the person you’d spent years with, a flash of understanding in their eyes. “You’re already planning our divorce?”

The ridiculousness of the whole situation caught up to you both, and despite the pain, you found yourself laughing too—softly, helplessly—as the tension cracked just enough to let some humor seep in. “Maybe?” you offered with a weak smile.

You both laughed then, a bittersweet sound that hung in the air, and for a moment, it felt almost okay—like the world wasn’t falling apart around you. When the laughter faded, you looked at them, your voice soft and hesitant. “Are you… are you going to be okay?”

Noa paused, looking down at the floor before meeting your eyes again. “I mean, this sucks,” they said honestly, their voice raw. “But yeah, I’ll be okay.”

Noa was still possibly the best person you knew, even in the midst of everything falling apart. The two of you sat down together, canceling everything for the wedding, each phone call and email pulling at your heartstrings. But Noa was calm and patient, working through the logistics with you, getting deposits back where you could, dividing your shared assets. Luckily, the separate bank accounts made that part easier.

“What are you going to do now?” Noa asked one day, after you’d gone through another round of cancellations. “Are you moving?”

“I’m not sure,” you admitted, trying to mask the uncertainty. “I hear Virginia is lovely…” You know it is, you’ve visited many times.

Noa nodded slowly, a teasing scoff escaping through the lingering hurt. “Like, where the FBI is?”

“Is it?” you said with a laugh, playing innocent.

“And what about your stores?” they pressed, leaning back as if to put some distance between the weight of the question and the reality of your situation.

You groaned, the stress of it all hitting you at once. “I don’t know… I could sell them? Then give you the money for the wedding.”

Noa laughed softly, elbowing you gently in the ribs. “Y/N, you don’t have to pay for the whole wedding—just, like, ¾ of it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh along with them, grateful for how easy they were making this break. “Okay, deal,” you agreed, grinning through the heaviness. “Maybe Alexi would want to take over.”

That night, you called Alexi, filling them in on everything—Spencer, Noa, the wedding, the whole mess you were working through. They listened patiently, and when you finally finished, they couldn’t hold back their excitement.

“I knew it!” Alexi practically shouted, causing you to laugh, the tension melting away as you shared the absurdity of your current situation with them. After laughing and joking together for a while, you brought up the idea of selling your business. To your relief and surprise, Alexi was more than willing to buy it from you, excited at the opportunity. And just like that, another piece of your life clicked into place as you prepared to move forward.

While all of this was going on, Spencer paced his hotel room like a caged animal. He couldn’t sit still, couldn’t concentrate on anything except the racing thoughts of what could happen—what your decision would be. His phone sat untouched, and though his fingers itched to call someone for support, he was too scared to share any good news before knowing the final verdict. He couldn’t let hope take root, not yet.

The hours dragged on until, late at night, his phone buzzed loudly in the quiet room, lighting up with your contact photo—the one he had never changed, with that adorable smile he couldn’t forget. His heart leapt into his throat as he scrambled to answer, pressing the phone to his ear urgently.

“Hello?” he asked, trying to steady his voice, but the anxious excitement was impossible to hide.

“Hey,” you breathed out, the sound of your voice washing over him like a wave of relief.

“How’d it go?” Spencer’s voice trembled with hope, his nerves hanging on every word.

“Good… good,” you said, and he could hear the faint smile in your voice, something lighter than he’d heard in days. “Um, remember when I visited a while back? And we saw that beautiful red house with the flowers out front?”

“Yeah?” he replied, holding his breath, his mind racing to piece together what you were saying.

“Should we see if it’s on the market?”

Spencer’s chest tightened with joy, and for a moment, the world stood still—just the possibility of a future, of a home, of everything he’d ever wanted with you.

—

“Spencer!” Derek yelled from down the hall, wiping his hands on a rag after finishing up some work.

“Yeah?” Spencer poked his head in the door, dust smudged on his face from their hours of labor on the house.

“I finished this room,” Derek said, gesturing to the newly painted walls and freshly installed trim. “Which one’s next?”

“Let me check,” Spencer said, ducking out for a second before coming back with a checklist. “Bathroom.”

Derek grinned, wiping his forehead. “Y/N’s really calling all the shots, huh?” he teased.

Spencer’s smile softened, his eyes reflecting nothing but warmth. “This is her dream home.”

“What about your dream home?” Derek asked, eyebrow raised.

“She’s my dream home,” Spencer said simply, the words carrying a sincerity that Derek couldn’t help but appreciate.

“That’s sweet, man,” Derek said, clapping Spencer on the shoulder with a smile. “But I’m never letting you live that down.”

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head as he picked up a paint roller, knowing full well Derek meant every word. And that was fine with him—because this was where he wanted to be, building a life with you, step by step.

“Spencer!” you called out urgently from the other side of the house, your voice ringing through the hallways.

Spencer’s heart skipped a beat as he rushed over, worried you might have hurt yourself. “Yeah, baby? Everything okay?” he asked breathlessly as he rounded the corner to find you standing by the bedroom window.

You turned to him with a playful smile, holding up two curtain swatches. “Which curtain do you like?”

Spencer let out a relieved chuckle, shaking his head at his own worry. He walked over to you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Whatever color you pick will be perfect, my love,” he murmured against your skin.

“Well, obviously I have the final say,” you teased with a grin, “but I still wanted to know what you like.”

“Thank you for considering my opinion,” he laughed, looking thoughtfully at the swatches. “Uh… that one,” he said, pointing to the one in your left hand.

“Thank you! Correct choice,” you teased, dropping the swatches on the floor as you grabbed Spencer’s shirt, pulling him close for a deep, lingering kiss.

He hummed softly against your lips, smiling into the kiss. “Mmm… what was that for?”

You broke the kiss just enough to whisper, “I just love you.”

“Yeah?” Spencer asked with a soft smile, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Enough to marry me again?”

You laughed, caught off guard by the sudden question. “Was that your proposal?” you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Spencer leaned back, pretending to consider his words thoughtfully before nodding with a chuckle. “I think it was,” he admitted, laughing at himself. “So… how’d I do?”

Giggling, you pulled him in for another kiss, your lips meeting his with warmth and certainty. “Amazing. But we’re eloping this time,” you said, resting your forehead against his as the words slipped out between kisses.

“Whatever you say, Mrs. Reid,” he murmured back, his voice full of affection and promise.

—

After months of hard work, the renovations on your new house were finally finished. It had taken time, effort, and a lot of patience, but with Derek’s hands-on help and guidance, you and Spencer transformed it into a home that truly reflected both of you.

The front of the house, a charming red structure framed by an explosion of colorful flowers, felt like something straight out of a storybook. A mix of vibrant yellows, pinks, purples, and reds surrounded the quaint porch, and the white picket fence added a classic touch, making the entire exterior feel warm and inviting.

Inside, the home had become a true sanctuary. Your bedroom was bright and serene, with airy, light-filtering curtains draped over wide windows that bathed the room in soft, natural light. The bed was draped in a red and white blanket that matched the cheerful energy of the house, and shelves lined with books and little mementos from your life with Spencer filled the walls.

The kitchen was a dream—a beautiful, open area filled with pale blue cabinets and golden fixtures that glinted under the soft morning light that poured through the wide, farmhouse-style windows. Wooden open shelves displayed dishes and decor, and the island in the center was the perfect place for shared meals, morning coffee, and cooking side-by-side, something that you and Spencer cherished.

Spencer’s office was a space of calm concentration, tucked into a corner of the house that offered peace and quiet. The walls were painted a deep forest green, and vintage touches—like the rustic wooden desk and traditional-style chair—gave it a classic, studious feel. The large windows allowed in just enough natural light to make it a comfortable, thoughtful workspace, while the thick greenery just outside provided a sense of privacy and focus.

After the renovations were done, you and Spencer knew there was no better way to celebrate than to invite all your closest friends and family for a “housewarming” party. The BAU team, your parents, Alexi, and a few other close friends gathered at the house to tour the renovations, see all the changes, and share in the excitement of your new beginning. Laughter filled the rooms as everyone admired the work you’d both put into the home and marveled at the way it reflected both of you so perfectly.

But the tour was just the beginning. As everyone made their way to the backyard, the sun started to dip below the horizon, the sky turning into the golden hour glow of soft oranges and pinks. The moment felt magical, and you knew it was time to share your real surprise.

You stood beside Spencer, a wide smile on your face as you addressed your loved ones, your voice carrying across the yard. “We’re so happy that you all could come to celebrate our home with us,” you started, your eyes twinkling as you looked to Spencer. “But, actually, that’s not the only reason we asked you all to be here today.”

There were murmurs of curiosity and excitement, eyes darting between you and Spencer as he took your hand. “This is our version of eloping,” he announced, his voice warm and steady, and there was a collective gasp from the crowd as they began to realize what was happening.

“We’re getting married,” you added, barely able to keep from bursting into laughter and tears all at once. And as you turned to Noa—your now close friend and recently ordained officiant—you saw the beaming smile on their face as they stepped forward to take their place at the center of the garden, ready to join you and Spencer in marriage once again, this time surrounded by the people who meant the most to you both.

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misstycloud · 8 months ago

Text

Yandere.childhood sweetheart ex X reader

Imagine a yandere childhood sweetheart ex going to visit his darling at university, but unfortunately she isn’t so happy like he thought she’d be.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, horrified at the sudden appearance of your ex-boyfriend.

He attempted a soft smile, but you could easily see the storm beneath it. With a small laugh, he said, “what do you mean? I’m here for you, obviously.” He stepped forward and reached for you hand, you pulled it away from his reach.

“No, like- why are you here at all?” You pinched your nose in frustration. “I get that you’re here for me or whatever, but why? It’s not- we are not together. We broke up.” To emphasise your point, you used your hand(the one he wanted to hold) to gesture between the two of you.

He gulped, “Yeah, but that was just because you wanted to go to university here in the city- even though there are completely okay universities in our hometown.” His tone soured at the end of his speech. As if he somehow couldn’t believe your decision to leave that small, boring, hillbilly town that you were forced to grow up in.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “only if you want to learn how to milk a cow 50 different ways.”

Your ex frowned and expressed his clashing opinion, “don’t say that, it’s where we grew up, where we lived-“ he got quieter “-and…where we fell in love.” The man looks like he was on cloud nine remembering the good ‘ol’ days.

“Sure, yippie!” You sarcastically cheered and noticed how his mood went sour again. He definitely didn’t enjoy how you easily played off your past relationship. Too bad for him you were completely over it. He’s stuck in the past and needs to move on.

The young man chose not to call your out on your(in his opinion) somewhat rude behaviour. It was not your fault, after all. The city and its people clearly haven’t been a good influence on you. But wasn’t that the reason he was there; to convince you to come home with him? He sighed before putting on another smile.

“Well, are you gonna invite me in?” he easily looked over your head, into your apartment. “It’s a little cold out here, y’know.”

Ignoring how ridiculous it must look from a passerby’s point of view, you stuck your arms up to obstruct your ex-boyfriend’s sight. If you’d been as tall as he was, you’d simply stand in his way to keep him from checking out your home. Unfortunatly, not everyone can be built like a skyscraper.

“No, I’m not going to let you in. You aren’t even welcome!” You exasperated. Why couldn’t he understand you didn’t want him there?

He was quiet for a moment, which made you think he was finally getting the message, but your hopes were crushed when he said in a cold voice, “Don’t be rude. It’s not like you to act like this. I told you going to the city was a stupid idea.” You were a bit shaken at this new side of him. In the past, he was always happy and sweet to you. On the rare occasions(usually when he thought you were hanging out more with your friends than him) you did fight, he was never like this; chilly and looking at you like you were in his way. While both were objectively bad, you thought you preferred when he was all hot instead of…this.

You were silenced and could do nothing when he pushed past you and entered your apartment despite your previous objections. Not knowing what else to do, you closed the door. You turned around to see your ex standing in your living room, examining the room top to bottom with an unimpressed face.

He hummed, “It’s cute. Although, I could build you a house much better than this. But as long as you’re happy, I suppose.”

“Excuse me?” Ain’t no way you’d let this dude come and diss your home like that. “Did you come here only to insult my home? Because, if so, you are free to leave.”

He shook his head, laughing softly, but you could still hear the insincerity in his voice when he said “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that.” (He definitely mean it like that) He walked to the wooden bookshelf you had placed in the corner and picked out a book right away, even though the large selection should’ve kept him busy for a while. With his back turned to you, it was impossible to see which book he'd pulled from its spot.

When he finally faced you again, you understood why he chose it. The book’s cover was clumsily made, it was clear that the creator was not a professional. It was uneven and did not line up with the stack of pages of the book, thereby leaving paper sticking out. Despite its rough appearance, the title was made with gold lettering which still had its shine, even though years has passed since its creation.

‘Damn it!’ you thought. Everything was so messy when you first moved and not wanting to deal with lose things forever, you just found some temporary home for items and left them there. It was now that you regretted your laziness. You should’ve put it away(throwing it seemed a bit heartless, even for you)

“You still have it?” He asked, the previous coldness gone, now he simple seemed slightly bewildered. Caressing the cover, he continued, “I thought you threw it away, to be honest, hehe.” The man glanced up at you with those loving eyes. You used to adore it whenever he looked at you like that, now they brought you nothing but unease. “I’m glad you kept it.” He finished off before putting it back in its place.

You tried focusing on anything but him; hellbent on ignoring his silenced stare. The day could go worse than this, you thought. Why the hell did he have to show up? And just as your life here in the city started going smoothly. Of course your past had to come back and bite you.

Both of you were lost in thought(with very different ideas) and the only sound was from the ticking clock on the wall.

“Why did you leave me?”

“H-huh?” You focused your attention back on him and saw his serious expression gazing back at you.

‘He seriously need to control his mood swings.’

“You heard me. I want to know why you decided to leave.”

“You know why. I couldn’t be stuck in that little town forever. It was boring and nothing ever happened. I don’t want to live out an existence like that, it’s not what I want.”

“That’s not a reason. You can life a good life without being James Bond. We were so happy together. I even-“ he stopped to take a deep breath, “I was going to propose. I had started saving up to buy you the ring you deserve. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

You sneered at him and said angrily, “Well, hate to break it to you, but I obviously don’t feel the same. I’m sorry, okay. But I never wanted to get married- I don’t even know where you got that idea from. Why would I marry you?-“

“Because we love each other.” Your ex rolled his eyes in annoyance, “that’s kind of the reason people get married, Love.”

Ugh, he acted like you were the insufferable one. Like you were the problem! He was the one with too thick of a head to understand that you don’t want to be with him. And he even dared to call you Love, just like when you were together.

“No, I don’t love you anymore. Stop this.” You groaned as you felt a headache coming in.

“You’re the one who needs to ‘stop this’. Can you see how foolish you’re being? You broke my heart and for what? Some dumb degree you’re not even gonna get.” He grabbed you by the shoulders and leaned in close. “It’s me, (y/n). Your Theo.” You held your breath as he took your hand and placed it directly above his heart. The heat from his body and the comforting beats had you remembering how much you did used to love this man. “This is yours. All yours, Love, you only need to accept it. I can give you everything you ask for. Come home with me, and forget this dumb university. You won’t find your dreams here. You’ll only be truly happy when you’re back home with me, I can promise you that.”

You stood still and watched as Theo kissed your knuckles; a common way for him to show affection. His words stung, yet you couldn’t hate him for them. It was true, things weren’t as great as you’d make them out to be. It’s all because you didn’t want to disappoint your parents. They still lived in your hometown and had worked their asses off to give you a chance to follow your dreams and make it big.

Originally, they’d been agaisnt you moving to the city. ‘But it’s so far away’ they had said, and ‘you’ll regret it’. You knew they wished for you stay and marry Theo instead, but that’s not what you wanted.

So you gave them a piece of your mind before storming off to Theo’s house. You spent the night there in fear of facing your parents, especially after that little action of liberty. It was ironic how you threw yourself in his arms, considering the whole argument was about something that’d ultimately have you leave him.

As you were contemplating your all your life choices, Theo dropped to his knees. You gasped, first thinking he’d fallen. But that was clearly not the case, because immediately after, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a red velvet box.

It didn’t take Einstein-level of intelligence to see what kind of box it was and what it undoubtedly contained. The devotion in his eyes had you gulp.

“I know this is sorta late now, but every couple has to go through a number of challenges. So, (y/n) (l/n), will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

The ring inside was more beautiful than you’d imagined. It was, truly, your dream ring. It was also proof how attentive he’d been back when you were younger; he actually did listen to you and remembered every bit of foolish young thoughts you’d splurted out.

It was just a question. One that everyone has the right to say ‘no’ to if they don’t think ‘yes’ is fitting. You would’ve rejected his proposal, but there was something in Theo’s eyes that made you waver. You weren’t fully sure what it was apart from how feral it seemed. All your senses told you to reject his advance, however, you caught yourself wondering if that really was a good idea.

How will you respond?

#oc #male yandere #yandere oc #obsessed #possesive #toxic #misstycloud oc #yandere x reader #Theo oc #yandere ex #male ex #yandere childhood friend #yandere childhood sweetheart #yandere sweetheart #Yandere former love #childhood sweetheart oc #fem reader #Yandere male

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hotheadedhero · 9 months ago

Note

Ok question how would the tmnt bros (all 4) react to someone having a crush on them, and they confess, but the turtle rejects at time... but later on he realizes no wait I actually do like them!

But theres already been like a good month or more since the confession and their crush has been sorta avoiding them by hanging out with the other turtle bros and though still being polite, they avoid like being alone with their turtle crush and try to act like they don't have a crush still(but they do)

Sorry if I didn't write the request right! and thanks for your writing I love how you write the turtles!

Frothing at the mouth. No words. Speechless. Thank you so much anon! This request is absolutely amazing and tugged at my heart in all the good ways, you beauty. So glad you like my writing tyty <3 Apologies for the wait btw :] I might have meddled with the idea a bit depending on the turtle but I hope this is the kind of thing you were hoping for! May even make a part 2 continuation because there was just so much to write, this was really a lot of fun so thank you again :P I let fate decide which version to base this on and we got Bayverse!

Rejection, Realisation, and Regret

Warnings: bad language, grovelling turtles for their idiocy, angst with this in mind, oh these boys are some real idiots

Bay Turtles x Reader

Leonardo

Turns you down as gently as he can but it still feels like a sucker punch to the gut. It may sound calloused but he's a ninja, a mutant, a protector before anything else and that includes being someone's boyfriend. With a constructive discussion on the matter, he can only hope that you understand his position. You assured him that you did.

So, then, how is it that he barely gets a conversation in with you these days? And why does that fact burn a hole in his stomach? This pit, although metaphorical, weighs down heavily on him. Assumably, he’s missing one-on-one with a friend until it truly occurs to him just what exactly is going on. There's a lesson to be learned here, he's sure - a saying that goes around as if taken from an ancient script: you don't realise how good you have it until it's gone. You're not gone perse but you make a point of avoiding him individually. As well-mannered as you try to be, he's noticed and he's noticed the hurt in his belly that comes alongside it.

He thought things were okay, that despite the rejection, you would still be able to comfortably continue your friendship without any issues. It seems he managed even to fool himself. Being so caught up in what it means to be one of New York's self-acclaimed protectors, he was completely absentminded to the feelings that had been bubbling up inside him all along. No wonder he's been losing focus on his training as of late. He has attempted to try and talk to you about it but to no avail. Has your heart really been that broken?

For once, he doesn’t know what to do, or what decision should be made. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place right now. Who's the one person he can turn to at a time like this? Come on. Who else would it be?

"Sensei, you know better than anyone that our position comes with complications. That we as ninjas are sworn to certain oaths.”

"Yes, the duty of yourself and your brothers is indeed a heavy burden. Responsibility comes with risk and consequence as I am sure you are well aware of by now.” Splinter watches his son bow down as he thoughtfully strokes his beard. "However, sensei, rat, master; alongside all of these things, I am foremost a father who wishes to see his sons be happy. You're in love, are you not?"

Leo’s attention quickly turns up from the floor to his master. How had he figured it out? Must be that parental instinct. Either way, he’s thankful for that in some respect. It makes this easier. Less complicated.

The turtle nods and breathes out, "I am, Sensei."

"That's what I thought." His father lays a hand over Leo’s shoulder before it taps him against the side of his head. "Now, what are you waiting for? Talking to me isn't going to change the situation."

Splinter is right. It's high time for him to get out of his funk and strategise the best way to make amends. He can only hope he isn’t too late.

Raphael

Rejects you thinking it was some sick prank curated by his youngest brother or something. There's no way you have a thing for him. He's a mutant and you're a human. How could someone actually be in love with a freak like himself? That's why he blows up in your face when you attempt to pour your heart out to him. Whatever joke you thought would be funny, isn't.

He may have taken things out of proportion. This much is made obvious enough by the poorly thought-out excuses you make just to avoid being alone with him. Yeah, that's right, he thinks. You should feel ashamed for trying to pull a stupid stunt like that, for trying to mess with him. He's standing firm on his self-assurance. Don't think for a second that he's going to lose sleep over what he said that day.

However, life has a very funny way of playing its own game. It all comes to fruition when you're laughing with the leader of the brothers. When your hand landed on his forearm, Raphael was struck with something fierce. The shot of jealousy to his heart almost takes him for a wild spin but he disregards it for typical Leo/Raph rivalry. Until that night, anyway. This man is tossing and turning in bed, ruminating on that sickly feeling in his chest; losing sleep over it. No. Surely not. He isn't in love with you. This isn't something that's been in the making for however long now. So what if you managed to calm him down quicker than anyone else he's ever known? Big whoop if you used to make a point of checking up on him when no one dared to go near him. It’s no big deal that you’d hype him up and cheer him on before each mission.

Fuck. He's been in love with you this whole time, hasn't he? Oh, you have got to be kidding. This was probably the only chance he had at something close to normal in his life and he trampled over it like it was nothing. That's assuming it was even genuinely meant from your end to begin with. He still has his doubts all things considered. Either way, he can’t just sit in bed and wallow in his head all night. He needs some air.

"What crawled up your shell and died?"

Great. He had hoped to get some peace and quiet. Not that this city knows the definition of either word but that isn’t the point.

"Not now, Jones. I ain't in the mood."

Casey's head rolls against his shoulders and he sighs, "Hey, if this is to do with (Y/n) ignoring you, what do you expect? 'Can't just make someone cry and expect things to be okay after without an apology."

Raph's mask slowly descends and hoods over his eyes, those of which are now staring down the detective.

"Oh, shit. You didn't know?"

No. No, he did not. He really made you cry? Why would you-? Ah. Two things smack him up the head at this moment: you meant every word of what you admitted a month ago and he is an absolute asshole. Despite already living in the sewers, he feels like the scum of the Earth.

That's it. No more holding back. No more being chicken. He might have ruined his chance but he can at least try and make things right by you.

Donatello

Aloof. Absolutely aloof and utterly clueless to the fact that you were even trying to admit your feelings for him. Yet, the way that the whole situation plays out makes it seem as though he had denied you. His head is usually stuck in a book or on one of the many screens that litter his quarters. What can you really expect of him? Unfortunately, this isn’t something that comes to mind nor is taken into consideration when you attempt your casual proclamation. With his eyes glued to his computer, his inattentiveness could only be read as uninterest to which you find it’s probably best to withdraw yourself.

In the weeks to come, it still doesn't even occur to him that you were confessing. The only thing that dawns on him from your weirdly abrupt absence is how strange it feels without you around. You still engage in your regular visits to the lair but are always elusive to his corner. Had he missed a memo? He can't quite place a finger on your change in behaviour. Then he realises just how much he enjoys and misses your presence. Even just how you'd pass by his little section of the lair and do something as small as asking him what he's working on. The small details should always get their chance in the spotlight but he managed to miss them when they were right there in front of him. When you were in front of him.

Subsequent to this steady progression of fluttering heart palpitations upon the thought of you and his drying throat when he tries to speak your way, he decides to take some action. At least, that’s the plan he has in his head. You hardly look his way, so he needs to find a way to gain your attention. There must be some way. With somewhat of an idea in mind, he dials a number through his computer and lets it ring.

The other side of the line picks up and there’s a voice. “If this has anything to do with goons, aliens or whatever trouble you guys have gotten yourselves into, I don’t want any part of it.”

“Relax, Vern. This is something that entirely requires your expertise without life endangerment. I need to ask about women,” Donnie confirms, cutting right to the chase.

There’s a pause. "What-?” Another longer pause and then an inhale. “Can't you just ask one of your brothers or something?"

Yeah, right, because his family of sewer dwellers are so well-equipped for this matter. Even asking for Vern's aid is pushing the boat a little but it's better than nothing - a baseline structure of what to expect is all he needs. The internet would probably be more reliable but it doesn’t include that vital real-world experience.

"You engage in frequent courting. By all accounts, you're the only person I know who has enough field experience to give advice."

This might be giving Vern too much credit but this is a surefire way to get what he wants. Feeding a man's ego can accomplish many things. Call it manipulation of the circumstances if you will but no harm done.

"You know what?” There’s a brightness in his tone, an uptilted cadence in Vern’s rhetorical question. Bingo. “You being the smart one has never been more accurate, Don. Alright, I'll help you."

The notes he takes are unfathomable but he wants to make sure that everything is thought out with careful precision. That's not even taking into account that he needs to muster the courage to ask you out in the first place.

Michelangelo

One would think that this guy would be jumping with unparalleled joy to have someone confess their feelings for him but he's got eyes for someone else. April O'Neil is his one true babycake, his angel face, the first love he had ever known. He turns you down in the friendly way one would expect him to if not a little cocky. Who wouldn't want a piece of the MC Mikey? There aren’t any hard feelings though, right?

Well, no but the sting that follows is still too much for you to handle. Too much in fact that you decide it's best to recoil into a shell of your own and spend less time with the loveable terrapin. Such a shame as well considering you're missing out on your regular gaming sessions together. It probably sucks big time to be rejected but he meant no harm by it. He thought you could still hang out as you normally would. Perhaps you just needed some time. That’s what he reckoned until the days turned to weeks and those weeks to almost two months.

He’s subjected to playing bystander when you hang out with his family, barely getting a chance to have a word with you alone. If this treatment is good for anything, it gives him a chance to spectate and watch how you interact with those around you rather than directly with him. He recognises how much he adores that sparkle in your eyes, the playfulness of your tone when you crack out jokes with his brothers, how you light up the entire lair when you make your presence known. There is this unshakable spirit within you that he somehow never noticed until a few days prior when you took the liberty of playing an incredibly bold practical joke at Casey's expense. Man, this turtle's heart sored higher than it ever has before, which is saying something considering he had to jump out of a plane once.

Well, colour him surprised. He was so sure of himself that New York's favourite journalist was the only one for him but it seems he was wrong. Oh, man. He's feeling pretty bad now. He can surely make up for what happened though, right? Hopefully. There's only one way of finding out but he has one thing he needs to do first before talking to you.

"I'm sorry, angel face. My sights have been led astray. My loyalty shouldn’t be doubted but it’s for someone else now.”

The way Mikey is knelt down, head lowered with April’s hands in his own is a perplexing sight if not curiously amusing. His feelings and the pronounced “dibs” on the reporter have been no secret but his recent infatuation with you hasn’t been much of a secret either. Not to her anyway but she likes to think she’s good at picking up on these things.

“Just know that you'll always have a special place in my heart,” he finishes, ending the overly dramatised display by holding a fist to his chest.

"Considerate as always." Her expression is somewhere between humoured and endeared, fighting the shake of her head at how adorably ridiculous this turtle can be. "Thanks, Mikey."

Now that's out of the way, he can go into this with a clear head. Although, the only thing really going into this is going to be all of his heart.

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hmusunoo · 1 month ago

Text

I really didn't want to do this but at this point I cannot stand behind and allow a group of people to berate and bully my friends for simply putting boundaries between them. There has been so much hate and disgusting things happening on Tumblr lately and I whole heartedly believe that these people have to do with the many hate accounts circulating, I have a ton of evidence to why these people are not good people and they genuinely need to be stopped.

Bullying is not cute, it's not funny, it's not you being "Real." no, you're just being plain fucking mean. I have evidence on only a few people for things they have said and done, but I think that their entire friend group is guilty. I am almost certain that they send each other anon hate asks so that they can respond being "real" and get more attention on themselves.

Firstly, where I think this all originated, now I am telling this in a way that I can explain as best as I can and from when I was there, I know that prior to this incident these people had an issue respecting my friend Mars's pronouns (something they continue to do) When mars set these boundaries with an account called Jaeyunsonly, Eva (jaeyunonlys) continued to do it. Eva would call mars "girl" and Mars simply asked for her to not call them that, Eva apologized but then continued to do it, so mars unfollowed and made the decision to no longer associate theirselves with Eva, which is completely understandable and should not warrant the hate that their receiving.

Now, coming from where myself and Kaia come in. Kaia and Eva would talk very little I think I was told that had only had a total of two conversations and weren't close at all but still Kaia was friendly with Eva. Eva joined my discord server and she was really nice and cool at first. One night when myself and Kaia were on Vc as we did a lot Eva joined, we were ok with that of course anyone was welcome to join the vc. Eva mainly kept on mute and again, we were fine with that Kaia and I carried along with our conversation as normal. That was until Eva muted and told us that her friend was getting "freaky" to our American voices.

It had made me and Kaia a bit uncomfortable but we tried to brush it aside. After that Kaia decided to make a new smau and Eva messaged her with a message that had made Kaia a bit uncomfortable.

and although we can admit that this was in good faith, it made Kaia a little uncomfortable seeing as Eva and her were not very good friends and we had gotten bad vibes since she had said that her friend was getting "freaky from our voices" Kaia messaged Eva back, very respectfully to say that she wasn't comfortable with her unsolicited advice.

This was written very respectfully and after that Kaia was no longer interested in being Eva's friend. Which she HAS THE RIGHT TO. This is when the hateful messages started and the little indirects. We even shortly realized that a weird, ableist and quite frankly racist message that came into my inbox a while back was none other then Eva as well only further us not wanting to be associated with her.

Read it and weep, this is such a weird thing to say. There are ot7 briize of every race, nationality and everything why feel the need to attack one over the other and to also call them mentally challenged?? Actually insane, not even to mention the P DIDDY JOKES SHES MADE. Like what ? and Honeybelle, let me even get into honeybelle. This was her response to Eva's pdidy jokes.

was it "satire" to p diddy's victims honeybelle? was it just a "joke" to them. Like be so for real this is so disgusting, and saying it was just SATIRE. come on where is the accountability?

but I think its obvious that nothing bothers honeybelle seeing as she thinks its ok to write smut that includes minors even if theyre not included in the actual sexual acts.

Like what?? Here's the story too btw you be the judge, she also mentioned and later deleted that the reader was high school but a cam girl?? read these and ket me know exactly what the fuck you think.

"I realize that Riki is still a kid but im too lazy to re edit" what. speaks for itself.

She even deleted a sentence I very much remember where jay says to reader that "she is just a hole for Riki to fuck." like what?? that's sick. Not even to mention that Honeybelle's work is very very similar to Mars...anyways.

Something that mars tried to handle in private and was very respectful about, they use this as another thing to attack mars and Kaia about.

you would count this as resolved right? but they just cant seem to let it go. As they relentlessly continue to bully Kaia and mars over it. Kaia and mars have done nothing but set boundaries and theyre getting attacked for it.

In comes virtualhoon and all her friends or moots idk. And although Virtualhoon has a right to say whatever she wants on her account sure, she should not be allowed to BULLY people. You aren't being "real" you're being a mean girl. Then you say you want everyone out of your business but continue to make posts and respond to anons talking about the situations and lets me real, what are the chances that all this friend group is sending the anons to further the issue. Mars and Kaia have not spoken about it but when they do they get berated (I have further screenshots of this.)

but also the AAV...but anyways.

Bullies. bullies. bullies.

fast forward to today where mars was ONCE AGAIN, misgendered and Kaia came to their defense and this is their response.

like y'all think talking to people like this is ok?? no wtf. This is disgusting and if you think this kind of behavior is OK? you're just as bad. Also, isn't the way these people talk very very familiar to all these hate accounts floating around and if they can talk about people this bluntly then what do you think they say behind an ALT. I dont have solid proof of that but come on, we're not stupid.

also... come on this is so racist.

This is only scratching of what have done, if you go to virtualhoon's profile you can see countless times that she has attacked Kaia unprovoked. This is the act of bullies, i'm sick of the negativity on Tumblr but I don't care this has to be said.

@heeambi, @chobunz , @leeechin , @pshbites , @jaysng , @suneng

@coqhee , , @st1llm0nster , @nshmuras , @won4kiss , @wonsdoll , @jaemna , @vveebee ee , @lunesdesire e , @lvnglysunoo oo ,

just tagging moots for awareness, not saying you’re involved.

#enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #please repost #enough is enough

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personasintro · 1 year ago

Text

Mutual Help | #45

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 11.6k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

It felt like a dream at first.

During the night, you'd dream about what happened the entire time just to wake up, glancing at the ceiling of Jungkook's bedroom immersed in darkness and falling asleep right away. As if your mind couldn't believe that it really happened and as soon as you wake up, you'll be hit with the reality.

But somewhere in your drowsy state of waking up, it all hits you twice as much when you pry your eyes open and stretch comfortably until you think; Fuck, I just gave head to Jungkook yesterday.

You can't believe how bold you were last night, without being wasted and you wish you could blame it all on alcohol. You know your own horniness had a lot to do with your decision to blow your best friend out. Living from yesterday's euphoria, you didn't think about it that much during your shower time, you just replayed the memories while smiling to yourself with a tingle between your thighs but you didn't mind. Somehow, giving Jungkook head was the main priority and source of your pleasure.

Freshly out of the shower and in Jungkook's bed, you don't remember him joining you as the sounds of him taking a shower lulled you to sleep. Even when you made it out of the bathroom, he wasn't in his previous spot and you weren't exactly looking for him, too sleepy to bother yourself of what could happen now.

But being completely awake, horniness gone and everything else as well, the walls of Jungkook's bedroom stare mockingly at you. Almost as if they're saying "Hey bitch, welcome back again" and you're reminded of how it felt to be sharing the same bed a couple of months ago when it wasn't all what you were doing here.

Cheeks hot, you drag the duvet over the half of your face – an awful attempt to make yourself invisible because there are more things to be nervous about. For example, Jungkook is nowhere to be found. It's hard to describe what battle you're feeling inside right now. The both of you wanted it, it's simple as that and even in your and his dazed state, Jungkook has assured you you're not his distraction which makes your heart soften even when you think about it right now. You're adults, you surely can talk about it maturely. So, why the fuck are you so nervous of facing him? You wanted it to happen so much, you can't explain how much you wanted something intimate to happen which resulted in your desperate need to blow him in his living room on his couch.

And when you got to that, you were pleased. You remember that feeling of want and need, so you understand your choice and you don't regret it happening. Until you realize if this could possibly make things weird now. Sure, you had sex before but that was because it was something you talked about, it was a deal. Right now, it happened spontaneously and you've let your needs take over.

In Jungkook's perspective, he couldn't believe what happened as well and spent the entire fifteen minutes under the shower replaying the entire night – mostly one specific part of it. But by the time he wanted to address it the same night after his shower, he already found you asleep cuddling to his duvet and he took that as a sign to let things be for now, and let himself relax and sleep.

Jungkook doesn't let you relax though – at least that's what you'd tell yourself if you had the time to properly think about it – because the door of his bedroom opens and there he is. In his full glory, not giving a fuck about your mental health while being shirtless, wearing one of those grey sweatpants he owns and likes to wear. It's a double attack with his tattoos on display and long hair tucked away by a hair tie in a half-bun.

The shadow of the sunrise peeking through his blinds sets on his eight pack that he has worked hard for and if you peeked even closer, you'd finally notice the trail of hair slowly disappearing under the hem of the grey material. And the soft yet very much noticeable bulge thanks to his package is giving you a very nice imagination of what it exactly looks like at the moment. And man, you're swallowing dryly with eyes so wide that it makes you want to pull the duvet on your whole face to cover it because Jeon Jungkook is wearing no underwear and it's pretty obvious.

"Great, you're awake," He has the audacity to sound light and cheerful, as if you weren't having his cock for a late dinner.

You watch him walking towards the dresser in the corner of his room, pulling out one of his t-shirts that he throws over his shoulder and decides to make you suffer for a little bit longer. At least that's what you silently tell yourself, stubbornly staring at his face instead of his holy body.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Jungkook looks confused, pinching his brows together as your grip on the duvet tightens. Is he serious?

"You're shirtless, Jeon..." you murmur, frowning back at him as his features relax and a chuckle erupts out of his mouth.

"Let's not get shy now, can we?"

Mouth falling open, there's a pang in the pit of your stomach of excitement and disbelief at the same time. He's so blunt, the little grin on his pinkish lips makes you want to roll your eyes but also grab him and kiss him. And touch him.

And then you notice something different about him. You couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, until you realize it's the new addition to his ink on his biceps, close to his shoulder. "You've got a new tattoo?"

Jungkook follows your line of vision, dropping his eyes to his new tattoo which looks like a flower but he stays unphased. "Oh, yeah," he says as if he just remembered, "Did it a few weeks ago."

"Oh," Your voice muffled, you look at the corner of his room for a moment, not sure what to say but you feel the pressure of his eyes on you, which makes you glance back at him. "It's nice..." you murmur quietly, not even sure if he heard it but he probably has because the corner of his lips lifts up.

He doesn't thank you verbally though, keeping his eyes on you as if he's trying to figure you out but ultimately, he sighs and sits at the corner of the bed where your legs are. "Why are you hiding?"

"What?" you ask, voice still muffled and then you realize what he's talking about. Slowly, looking almost petrified for Jungkook to see your face, you pull off the duvet and give him a crooked smile.

Knowing Jungkook from all these years, you recognize the knowing look he gives you. "I think we should talk," he starts slowly, addressing the elephant in the room. "About yesterday."

"What's there to talk about?" you chuckle awkwardly, mentally giving yourself a good slap on the cheek for even questioning it. Of course, you know there's a lot to talk about. But something about Jungkook, staring at you with those dark and doe eyes makes you want to hide and never come out. At least not with him in a radius of hundreds of meters.

"Come on, let's not do that," Jungkook chuckles lightly, "I think we can both be wise about this."

He's right. You're acting ridiculous and so far, he doesn't seem to be mad about what happened and maybe it's your wishful thinking, but he doesn't look as if he's regretting it either so far. But of course, you wait for him to open his mouth before jumping to conclusions.

Growing even more embarrassed about your behavior, you sigh and slowly sit up, exposing more of yourself by letting go of the duvet completely. "I'm sorry... I just didn't know how you'd react."

"I'm reacting fine," he laughs a little, "It's not like it's the first time we've done something like that."

He means giving him a head. Being intimate.

"It's not..." you murmur unsurely, "But it is the first time that it happened without us talking about it, I mean... without us having a deal. All of those times before, we knew that some things would happen and now..." you trail off, slowly looking away.

"Well, you seemed determined to suck my dick."

Snapping your eyes towards Jungkook, you find him amusingly grinning at you as he jokes. And you want to laugh but you mask it with a little frown. "And you wanted to have your dick sucked, so I guess we're even."

He laughs at that, causing your facade to break and you join, feeling the awkwardness slowly fade away but not just quite completely, it's still there.

"I guess we are," Jungkook smiles, "I don't want things to be awkward between us. We both wanted it and it happened. We know it probably wouldn't happen if we didn't drink yesterday, I don't think none of us would have the balls to make a move."

He is completely right about that.

"We weren't drunk or completely wasted as well," you say which he nods to, agreeing with you. But still, you both have loosened up yesterday and that has prompted you to listen to your body, instead of your brain. "I'm sorry, I should've controlled myself better. I don't know what came over me."

"Hey, why are you apologizing?" Jungkook frowns, asking you softly. "It's not like you came all over me. I wanted it as much as you wanted to. I wasn't sure if it's the wisest decision but at that moment, I didn't care that much."

He did want to tell you something but you cut him off by kissing him. Then he simply kissed you back and no words were exchanged about it later on. That's what he probably wanted to tell you – he wanted to make sure if it's the right decision but one look at each other and all of that was gone.

"Do you care now?" you ask carefully, eyeing his reaction.

"I don't," he admits, "We can pretend that it never happened and move on, if that's what you want."

But something about it makes a bitter taste on your tongue. It is the wisest decision though, just to let things go and forget them. However, you know yourself and you know you won't be able to forget it. Just Jungkook being here, sitting here looking like this makes a mess out of you.

As much as you don't like where this is going, you won't be the one proposing something you'd probably regret later. You're such a mess, you've no idea what to do because every possible possibility has cons.

You wish you could feel more of Jungkook, you've to admit that you're sad at the thought of not being that close to him again. Your hormones are a freaking rollercoaster and he's fucking hot, making things way harder for you. There's attraction between you two and you both happen to be single, which made all of this easier and that's how you ended up in this situation.

"What's wrong?" Jungkook asks, tilting his head to the side as he catches your eyes.

"Nothing," you answer, but you sound unsure even to yourself. "What do you want, Jungkook? Do you want us to just forget about it?" you ask simply and curiously.

He doesn't understand why you can't just simply answer, why do you always question him before you admit what you're thinking. There are times when you're like an open book to him, but right now it's tough to guess what you're thinking. Something doesn't seem right though.

Little does he know, you're letting him answer first to avoid any embarrassment if you admit that yes, there's a selfish part of you that wants to get that taste of him again. But the wise part of you knows it's not the smartest idea.

"I think," he starts slowly, "tipsy us probably let that happen because it's something we both wanted. It happened and it's either we ignore it, or... I don't know." he admits, failing as he chuckles at his attempt which makes you laugh a little as well.

"What if later on we realize it's not something we can't ignore?" You find the guts to ask, bravely holding the gaze he gives you but he seems a little bit puzzled about what exactly you're thinking. He doesn't want to assume.

"What do you mean?"

"Jungkook, I was ready to get on my knees to suck you off just because I was horny and couldn't stop touching you," you almost exclaim in a chuckle, growing frustrated at yourself and most importantly, what you were capable of last night. "It's like I had no boundaries and--the last thing I want is to ruin things between us and I fear I can't control myself next time."

You're breathing heavily by the end you're done, pursing your lips at Jungkook's big eyes full of surprise. Oh, shit. Did you just completely fuck this up?

"Then don't," he suddenly says, leaving you speechless. "I mean...why don't we just let things happen? We've done it before, under different circumstances yes, but we're both, obviously, attracted to each other and we're single. The only thing I want you to know is that you're not my distraction from what happened and I'd never use you like that. I know I told you last night, but it's really important for me that you know that. Last night surprised me, yes, but I wanted it as much as you did. We have done this before and we're fine--"

Yes, fine it terms that you can't stop thinking about his naked body and he probably ruined any future partners for you, but hey, you get the point. You're still best friends and you both had separate relationships, real relationships that weren't just two best friends with benefits.

"Yes," You cut him off, embarrassingly fast and the sight of Jungkook shutting his mouth makes you want to laugh, but you keep your face straight as you clear your throat. "I mean... yes, you're right about that."

He just nods, scratching his chest a little and you're trying way too hard not to follow the movement. "Why does this feel awkward?" he chuckles, causing you to snort.

"I don't know... maybe because we're circling around the topic of us hooking up."

"Yeah," he laughs, "But you're way more important to me than sex... I can keep it in my pants."

Yes, but you probably can't.

"I'm actually more worried about me than you." you joke, but there's a lot of truth to your words and with or without Jungkook knowing, you get a proper laugh out of him as his nose scrunches cutely.

"I think we should just go with the flow, you know?" Jungkook proposes, "Just to know we both are okay with this should be enough for now, and let's just wait and see what happens."

You nod, even though you take a moment to take in what he has just said to you. "Yeah," you breathe out, "You're right."

Basically, he just told you if you ever have the need to suck his dick again, you can. Mentally laughing to yourself, you steal a glance at Jungkook who looks as spaced out as you and you take that opportunity to look down his chest, almost salivating right away and you've to remind yourself that you're supposed to go with the flow. Not wanting to repeat yesterday just at the first sight of his naked chest. Unfortunately for you, Jungkook looks at you at the exact moment you try to pry your eyes off him, noticing the way you were just checking him out which makes him let out a breathy chuckle.

"What?" you ask too quickly, eyes snapping back to his face, failing miserably at trying to act as if he hasn't just caught you.

Biting his lips, he tries to hide the grin that stretches on his lips anyway as his eyes shiver with something amused and mischievous. "...nothing."

"Okay."

"Let me kiss you."

He wants what? Your eyes bulging out, you stare at Jungkook in shock as the two of you talk at the same time and his request completely takes you by surprise.

"Kiss me?" you ask dumbfoundedly, but Jungkook just nods firmly as if he's hundred percent sure of his straight-forward (and shocking) request. "You just said we should wait and see."

Most importantly, why would he want to just kiss you? Right now? You just woke up, knowing you look like a piece of shit.

"I also said we should go with the flow," he points out, grinning, "And you've been checking me out ever since I came here,"

You scoff at that immediately, embarrassed inside how easily he noticed that but you don't say anything else.

"Besides," he starts, voice turning slightly more serious which catches your attention. "We're both sober now..."

Oh, so he wants to try and kiss you sober? Is he having cold feet already? That settles an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach and you already hate it. You're overthinking everything once again but there's also a pang of excitement shooting right where the discomfort occurred first, because Jungkook wants to kiss you. Even if you're looking like the mentioned piece of shit – your hair isn't brushed and your eyes must be swollen, you haven't even had your first trip to the bathroom where you could make yourself look more presentable--

"I haven't brushed my teeth," you blurt out, making Jungkook snort and laugh at the same time, although you just stare at him with furrowed brows. "What? I'm not kissing you without me brushing my teeth."

You're completely ruining this, you're aware of that and even though there's not a bad taste in your mouth, you wouldn't be able to live it down if you kissed him with a bad breath. Especially if it's just the beginning of something, something as you both hooking up again.

Jungkook rolls his eyes which makes you mimic his actions because it's easy for him to say. He's probably been awake for hours now, looks cleaned up and definitely has his morning routine done meanwhile you...

He stands up, walking towards something that lays on his floor which you notice is his camera bag once he lifts up. Rummaging through there for a while, he pulls out something you see when he sits back down on his previous spot and hands you--

"Mint dragees? Seriously?"

"Come on," he orders, motioning his head towards your hands to urge you and take one as you roll your eyes, but still doing what he wants. What, you're not passing out on the chance of kissing him. Besides, you're also curious if things happened because you were sexually frustrated and tipsy.

"Done?" he asks as you swallow the final piece after a few seconds of chewing, the sweet yet minty flavor present on your tongue.

It's better than nothing but still, seeing Jungkook sitting here looking like this and in a close presence, you grow nervous all of a sudden, especially with his eyes on you. And when he scoots closer to you, you stare at him as a deer caught in headlights.

"What? You don't want to kiss me?" Jungkook teases, lifting his hand to poke you in your left cheek as you can't bring yourself to scold him, but just stare at him and most importantly his lips. "Are you shy?"

You scoff, wanting to nudge him in the shoulder but the exposure of his skin is already enough and you're too much of a coward to touch him, only because you can't guarantee what you would do next.

"I am not!" you exclaim, denying the obvious. "You're the one who wants to kiss me! How am I supposed to react?"

Jungkook is the one who scoffs this time, but it's very short-lived because his lips turn into a smirk. "You gave me a head yesterday and now you're all shy about a kiss?"

He's teasing you, making fun of you and when he sees your scandalized expression that turns into annoyance just makes him laugh even more.

"That was different..." you murmur.

He knows. You had courage thanks to the alcohol, horniness and sexual frustration as well.

"Keep it up and I might think you're in love with me." he jokes, wiggling his brows as you snort loudly and scrunch your nose.

"As if!" Scrunching your lips into a frown. "You're the one who wants to kiss me." you grumble childishly.

"I want to do more than that but first," Your mouth opens in another surprise, breath hitching and heart picking up its face, you feel your skin getting hot and flustered all over again. "You have to allow me to at least kiss you."

"More than that?" you ask quietly, voice breathy as if you just ran a mile and it's so embarrassing but you can't help yourself but ask as Jungkook bites into his lower lip and gives you a curt nod.

You stay glued to your spot, toes already curling but you don't let yourself take a first step as you patiently wait for Jungkook who seems to stare at you with a very specific dark, yet soft sparkle in his eyes.

"Yeah," he breathes out, inching his face closer to you to the point his scent gets closer and you've to remind yourself not to get all hot over the scent of his aftershave. It is one of your main weaknesses and it's the worst around Jungkook because he always smells incredible. There's something about his specific scent that makes you go wild and you realize how easily you've picked on it ever since you met.

Jungkook brushes some of the messy strands of your hair off your face, fingers brushing against your cheek before he cups your jaw, long fingers holding the back of your neck as he abruptly pushes you closer to him. You almost bump with your noses and you let out a surprised squeal, snorting at yourself right after which makes Jungkook grin.

He's surely taking his time for a simple kiss, you think but Jungkook proves you wrong once again because one second he gives you a glance and the next he presses his lips onto yours. Your brows shoot up for a second but your whole body relaxes at the tenderness of his mouth on yours. You've no idea what Jungkook had in mind when he asked to kiss you, but he's definitely not aiming for a single peck and doesn't waste time over something that wouldn't make sense, because he starts moving his lips right away. You join him, letting him lead the kiss but putting just as much effort into it as he does and you hold yourself back from moaning when you feel the first traces of his tongue.

Allowing him the access, your tongues touch for the first time this morning and even if it hasn't been that long since the last time you made out, it feels exactly like that. Jungkook is intoxicating, ruining you for others but as long as you get to enjoy him for a while, it's none of your problems at the moment.

The hold on your jaw gets stronger but not enough to hurt, quite the opposite because you feel another wave of heat washing over you, the underwear clinging to your heat. Luckily, your lower body is safely hidden under the duvet from Jungkook's eyes.

The kisses turn sloppy and you both have to pull away to catch some breath because once again, Jungkook manages to knock the breath out of you and you find yourself gasping because Jungkook doesn't rest, kissing your jaw and down your neck. Automatically, you give him more access by tilting your head to the side, biting onto your lower lip while you finally allow yourself to touch him too.

Your fingers naturally find their way to Jungkook's hair, the one that isn't tied in a bun by his hair tie, and you press your neck even closer to his mouth while Jungkook leaves open-mouthed and wet kisses. Thanks to his shirt that you're wearing, there isn't much skin and place to kiss you as he's met with the hem of your shirt, so he makes his way up again until he's kissing you on your mouth all over again.

Gasping, just as your body naturally moves, Jungkook impatiently tugs the duvet off you and with hands on your hips, he urges you to sit on his lap. You do and what a fucking mistake that is. You should've thought of you wearing only panties that you wore to the club yesterday, the lacy ones which are doing a poor job at covering your lower lips at the moment. You always wear them when you're going out, not in case you'd hook up with someone and want to be sexy for them. Not at all. You wear them to make yourself feel more sexy, even if it's not the comfiest underwear.

The quick movement of you getting onto Jungkook's lap caused the underwear to shift, but even that is the least of your problems because there's another thing you forgot about. And your earlier notice of Jungkook's crotch area is proved right because this man is wearing no underwear. There's no way he is because you can feel his cock perfectly, settled right between your legs as you sit on top of it.

"Ah, fuck," you manage to whisper between the kisses.

Jungkook's hands disappear under your shirt, big hands touching your back and meeting your hot skin. You're so into this, into him, that you're not thinking straight and you let your body do its own thing. Somewhere in the back of your head you know you're just listening to it, your body and what it wants, but when you grind against Jungkook's crotch it comes out as a surprise to you as well.

You're done for, you should've known that ever since Jungkook asked to kiss you. No. Ever since he walked through that door shirtless, showing off his buffed out chest that is brushing against your front right now. Nipples perked up, there's no chance that Jungkook isn't feeling them even though he's busy with his mouth and hands. You feel your heat pulsating with need, walls clenching around nothing that makes you frustrated but the solution is easy when you grind for that friction of Jungkook's hardening length again.

He grunts in response, mouth on your neck as he gently bites into it which makes you shamelessly moan and grip his hair tighter. The simple action of his gentle bite, your hips start to move without stopping, grinding against him as you cup his face to take a look at his face. His eyes are hooded, looking partly fucked out while your breaths mingle together and this time you're the one who leans down to connect your lips in another heated kiss.

Jungkook bites onto your lower lip, hands sliding down your ass as he cups it and squeezes the flesh. "Fuck, Kook," you whimper, feeling his cock growing rapidly as it hardens even more.

You can clearly make out its shape and just the thought of it makes you clench around nothing, wishing it was Jungkook's cock instead. But you're patient, completely fine just with what is happening right now. Burning up, you pull away slightly which makes Jungkook's brows pinch together in confusion which you notice, until you take off his shirt you're wearing.

Shamelessly, Jungkook ranks up your exposed chest with hungry eyes, meanwhile you throw the fabric to the side, wrapping your arms around his neck again. Your perky breasts on full display, you see Jungkook licking his bottom lip and you straighten yourself, wanting to nudge him so you can continue where you left off. The erected nipples brush against his chest for a few seconds before he holds you by your hips, pushing his weight onto you until you're easily flipped onto your back.

Jungkook hovers over you, smirking down at you as you stare at him with wide yet lustful eyes, fully spread for him just in your panties.

"Don't just stare, do something." you breathe out, urging Jungkook to make a move which he does gladly, but not before ogling you for another second before he settles between your legs.

Leaning down, he starts peppering rushed kisses down your neck, kissing places he hasn't done and were covered by his shirt that is long forgotten, thrown somewhere on the other side of his big bed. He kisses the top of your breasts, between the valley as you arch your back for him, shivering underneath his sinful mouth. The sound of his mouth and kisses he's showering you with makes you let out a breathy moan, hands on his firm back.

The first contact he makes with your nipples makes you moan out his name, mouth enveloping your nipple as he sucks on it, letting his teeth graze over the sensitive bud here and there. He plays with you, smirking whenever you whimper but he takes his time, doing the same thing with your other nipple. When he's satisfied, he pulls away slightly to stare down at your sensitive nipples and saliva coating them. His eyes trail down your body, from your breasts down to your stomach until it stops at the only article of clothing you're wearing.

He hovers over you, one hand holding himself up so he wouldn't crash you, his nose touches your cheek as he places a soft kiss on your jaw. Too distracted, he sneakily places his hand between your thighs and when he cups you through the fabric, you flinch a little.

"Fuck, you're so wet," Jungkook breathes out against your jaw, fingers rubbing you which earns another breathy moan from you and this time you screw your eyes shut, biting harshly into your lower lip.

"More," you demand, or plead with him, sounding so desperate and rushed as the tip of his fingers rub the thin fabric.

"Forgot how needy you are," Jungkook comments cheekily, smiling against your jaw when his fingers push it aside. Fuck, you really are wet. The whole panties are drenched up in your wetness, fingers easily gliding up and down your lower lips as you moan, arching your back from the mattress.

"Shut up," you scold him breathlessly, head tilted back and Jungkook wishes he could pay more attention to your neck, and how much it's calling him to suck on the skin there. His attention is called elsewhere, eyes looking down between your thighs as he catches the slightest glimpse of your pussy with his fingers on it.

You're so wet they glide easily, almost sliding right in but Jungkook makes sure he makes you feel good without doing that, going to your clit where he circles his fingers around it. Nails digging into his back, you whine for more. You're a complete mess.

He teases your opening with his fingers and just when you think he's about to enter you with those long fingers of his, he actually pulls them away and you feel as if someone just gave you the biggest slap. It wasn't Jungkook's intention though, because he tugs your panties down your legs to get you rid of them as he exposes you fully.

Grabbing your thighs he pulls you closer to him, causing you to gasp as you giggle when Jungkook hovers over you, grinning teasingly but it barely lasts a second because he's already going between your thighs. Your eyes widen when you look down, realizing what he's about to do but at the same time he spreads your legs. And he stares. Stares at the wetness glistening while taking a proper look at your pussy, something he hasn't seen for a while and never thought he'd have an opportunity to see again. It has never crossed his mind that you two would be able to find yourselves in this situation again. Just a few days ago, his mind was elsewhere.

Making himself comfortable as he lays onto his stomach, hooking his arms under your thighs as he keeps you spread out for him.

"Hello again, beautiful," he muses with a smirk, hungrily staring at your pussy as you snort at the fact he just greeted it so casually and even called it beautiful. Not going to lie, you act as if you find it ridiculous but you feel a wave of pleasure shooting right through you because it doesn't matter what part of you Jungkook calls beautiful.

And he doesn't let you have that reaction, his plan is probably to ruin you because he squeezes your thighs and bites into the right one as he dives right in. Not prepared for the quickness, Jungkook licks a long and hard stripe up to your clit. He wraps his mouth around it and starts sucking it, leaving your legs shaking as a set of curses tumble out of you. One hand gripping the sheet and the other his hair, you grind yourself into him wanting to feel more of his mouth.

Jungkook is quick, none of this is slow and tender, he's hungry and barely lets you time to realize what he's doing before he's moving onto another thing. He licks your wetness, makes out with your pussy as if he's been starving all this time and gives a proper attention to your clit. The combination of those three makes your head spin, the wet noises adding even more pleasure to your body until you feel your stomach clench with the known knot. Jungkook feels you clenching around nothing, feeling your pussy move under his tongue as he starts flickering your clit with it.

That's your final point, Jungkook's mouth only (and his great skills at oral sex) bring you to your edge, the one you haven't felt in so long and fuck, does it feel unbelievable. Jungkook's name is on the tip of your tongue as you orgasm with a final moan, body freezing for a second until you let go. Jungkook slows down but still sucks onto your clit, prolonging your orgasm for as long as he can as he makes sure to taste all of your arousal and cum.

Your hands relax, one of them leaving Jungkook's hair alone as you let them fall beside your body while Jungkook gives a final lick to your pussy as he pulls away. Hooded eyes and hot body, you force yourself to look at Jungkook who stares at you just the same, chin completely soaked up in your arousal and cum. The right corner of his lips curve into a smirk, eyes not leaving you as he reaches for the abandoned shirt you threw away and wipes his chin with it.

The sight is arousing itself and if you had enough time to breathe through your just ended orgasm, you could easily go for another round. You thought what a great job you did at the blowjob you gave to Jungkook but the truth is, he topped that the moment he put those lips on you.

Clearing your throat, you feel the urge to speak up. "Didn't you want to just kiss me?" you ask breathlessly, a hint of amusement and teasing in your voice as Jungkook smirks, slowly backs away until he stands up.

"I didn't specify where."

Oh, fuck.

Noticing the wet stain on his sweatpants and the evident hardness, you wonder if it's from you or his own arousal. Probably both. You slowly sit up, closing your legs sheepishly which Jungkook notices but just smirks knowingly at you. You're too scared to get up, knowing you probably stained his sheets because all you can feel is wet and it's starting to get uncomfortable.

Surprised that Jungkook turns around and reaches for his shirt, you want him pulling the white fabric over his head as he covers his chest and it causes you to unknowingly pout. "Where are you going?" you ask, not hiding the surprise and disappointment.

Jungkook turns around to look at you, chuckling at your naked and cute form. What a sight you are.

"To make you breakfast." he answers simply, leaving you to stare at him dumbfoundedly.

Breakfast? Isn't he hard? You thought--

"Why?"

"Because otherwise I'd fuck you."

Your breath hitches again and you shift on your spot, almost cringing at the wetness between your thighs. "What's wrong about that?" You find yourself asking, voice light and innocent.

"One step at a time."

Giving you a mischievous smile, that's the last thing you see before he walks out of his bedroom, closing the door behind him to give you some privacy while you stare at the wood for a full minute.

You can't believe he just walked out, voluntarily giving himself the blue balls as if you weren't here, ready to please him. The slight coldness shakes you out of your daze, shaky legs bringing you to Jungkook's closet to put yet another clean shirt on, along with something to cover your legs.

The short journey to the bathroom is interesting, challenging even and once again reminding you of something that has happened before. It takes all of your power to think about something else for the rest of your shower time.

And just like you said yesterday – Jeon Jungkook is dangerous.

Interesting and peculiar is what you and Jungkook are.

Casually eating breakfast together while chatting about whatever comes to your or his mind. And you like that. There is no overthinking or weirdness lingering between you two and you're thankful that even your slightly selfish decision of hooking up with your best friend again, hasn't affected your normal behavior and relationship.

Jungkook has agreed to check the new car with you next week, assuring you that he'll take you there so you can get rid of "the old crap" as he named your current car. You've done your research about cars, at least whatever you can realistically afford, so it's not like you've no idea about anything. However, Jungkook is better with cars and you could use his help and opinion.

"...what about your apartment though?" Jungkook asks, mouth partly full with cereal as you automatically sigh at the topic.

You definitely have to deal with the apartment thing and it's not like you haven't. You've been thinking about it and trying to find the solution, but it seems as though whoever is up there has other plans for you because there are no affordable apartments for rent available.

"What about it?" you murmur, ignoring Jungkook's amused chuckle before it dies down and his features turn serious once again causing you to let out a sigh as you shrug. "I'm still looking for something available here but nothing so far... I don't think I'll find something in time anyway, time which I don't have a lot of. There's the whole moving process and I should start packing my things already." you explain, reaching for your cup as you take a sip of your mint tea.

"Move in with me," Jungkook proposes, staring at you with doe eyes as you start choking with the tea, coughing furiously as you try to set it down before spilling it. "What?"

Clearing your throat, you stare at Jungkook with raised brows until you see how serious he is about this. "What? One blowjob and me letting you eat me out, and you're already asking me to move in with you?" you joke, laughing at the idea as Jungkook's brows scrunch into a frown, obviously not finding the joke funny. Especially when he is serious about this, determined to help you in any way he can.

You surely don't want to leave and start living somewhere else, you'd still be in Seoul but on the other side of it as well.

"I'm serious," he tells you, shutting you up as your laugh dies down. "Why would you move to another district when your job is here? You're also used to living here and ultimately, the decision is up to you and this is just a proposal... but I do think the whole moving thing so far away is just a huge hassle."

It is a huge hassle. It's the fucking pain in the ass.

Jungkook's proposal sounds interesting, not because this way you'd spend even more time with him and before you can let your mind run free, you remind yourself that he's also Jungkook who's willing to help no matter what. He's doing too much and you can't be that selfish to take him on that offer. You should solve this on your own, as much as the voice in your mind tells you to stop being stubborn and let him help you.

It would make things easier. You wouldn't have to deal with your job and possible transfer to another company, you're not sure if that's even possible and maybe you'd have to search for another job as well. It's already making you stress about it.

Everything you know, everything you've grown so comfortable ever since you live here is right here. You wouldn't want to move if the circumstances weren't so fucked up. Sure, maybe move to a bigger and better apartment, maybe one of your own sometime in the future. But financially and realistically it's just not possible at the moment.

"Don't be ridiculous, Kook, I can't live here." you try to tell yourself, despite your words aimed at Jungkook as well.

"Why not? Just until something else will be available, you're no bother to me."

"It's not about bother, Kook," you sigh, "Well, not only. I also have furniture, I need to put it somewhere and I have a lot of stuff. I can't just move in here and expect you to make some space for me."

Jungkook's apartment is the biggest out of four of you. Two bedrooms, spacious bathroom with a bathtub and a proper kitchen with a living room – pretty rare for an apartment in Seoul.

You know you're just looking for excuses, knowing some of the furniture you'll have to sell anyway because even if you moved to another apartment, moving furniture is a different kind of hassle.

"Why though? I have enough space here!" he reasons, already seeing you shaking your head.

"No, you don't," you tell him. Well, it's debatable whether he has enough space or not. "Where would I even sleep?"

Trying to reason this time, you shut your mouth knowing that that's the least of the worries. You know you've shared bed more times than you can count, but still. You can't live here and sleep in the same bed, no matter what you discussed today or what your friendship looks like. It's different to crash here and have a sleepover, than fully living here. It's official. It's too real and--

"Oh come on," Jungkook rolls his eyes, "You could use my bedroom, I'll take the couch. And I could put your bed in my office, I just have to make a little room for it there but I have the space, Y/N."

Jungkook uses the second bedroom, which is the smaller room than his, as his office where he edits the photos behind the desk on his computer. In other terms, it's actually a storage room as well where Jungkook keeps some of his stuff he didn't know where to put. It's all clean though, everything pretty much having its own place except for a few random items.

"I don't know, Kook..."

"Look, you've got the final word and it's totally up to you. I'm not gonna force you, I wanna help and I think this might be the easiest option. Jimin told me he offered you his place too, you can crash there if--"

"You know it's not about that," you shake your head, cutting him off. Whether it's Jungkook, Jimin or Taehyung, you'd hate for them to have to take care of you, no matter how much you know they just want to help.

"Jimin's place is small but he's more than open to help too, I'm sure Taehyung would help you too but with his lifestyle, I'm not sure if that's the best option for you." Jungkook laughs and you join, knowing he's right.

You're not sure if you want to witness Taehyung's hook-ups and everything that comes with it. Taehyung has no boundaries, he wouldn't care whether you hear or see something.

"Yeah, that's out of picture," you agree, giggling. "Thanks, Kook... I'll think about it, okay?"

Looking at him, you offer him a soft and appreciative smile which he returns but there's a little bit of doubtness in his features, or maybe it's a worry that you'll be too proud to use the help they offer. Honestly, you just need to sit down and properly think about it, without Jungkook's soft and big eyes. Thanks to them, you'd run and let him help you right away and you need a cold head for this.

"Sure," he nods, "It's just a temporary fix but I think it's better than moving across Seoul, while having to deal with unnecessary shit,"

Deep down, you agree with that and maybe if you had more time, things would be different. But the time is slowly ticking and you know you'll have to make the decision as soon as possible.

"I'll get dressed up and drive you home, give me a sec." Jungkook says as he stands up, leaving you to your thoughts alone.

Looking around, you try to picture yourself living here for the time being and suddenly, it doesn't seem all bad. Especially with Jungkook coming back with a soft smile, brushing past you as you clean the dishes while he scolds you for not using the dishwasher instead.

"Girl, you're glowing!"

Hugging Maya's form, you sheepishly grin into her shoulder. That is not what you've expected her to say as soon as she spots you walking up to her. "Hi, Maya."

"Seriously, what's your secret?" she asks when she pulls away, eyeing your whole form as you chuckle shyly and quickly sit down. "Or rather who?" she muses with pursed lips, laughing at the way your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head.

"What? No one!" you laugh, shaking your hands to prove your point.

"Oh come on, Joon told me you and the guys went clubbing on Friday. The last time I saw you you didn't glow like this!"

It still takes time to fully get used to Maya's straightforwardness and here you thought you're straightforward. Well, you are but Maya is a different kind and the fact she exposes you like this the second time you get to hang out with her alone, is beyond you. It's not that you don't like it, you're happy you get along without guys around you and it feels nice to have a female friend in this circle.

"You're just seeing things, Maya," you tell her, chuckling while you're trying to calm down your heart, peering at your lap instead. "It's not like that."

"Someone's got laid but you haven't heard that from me," she sings out quietly, leaning towards you for a moment before she pulls back and cackles at the shocked expression you can't hide, realizing you've just totally exposed yourself on your own. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tease you." she apologizes, silently giggling at the way you try to compose yourself, straightening while scratching the back of your head.

Even despite her usual cheerful persona, there's something particular and different about her and maybe it's the fact you haven't seen her for a month, since you last saw her when you hung out together alone for the first time. You went shopping, talked the whole time which felt very nice before you rushed to Jungkook's apartment to bring him some take-away and told him all about you and Maya hanging out.

She's the one to talk, she seems awfully happy and you notice the way she sneaks her glance at you which makes you question her behavior even more. "Are you sure you're not the one glowing?" you tease her this time, grinning at her.

And she doesn't deny it, suddenly giggling as she covers her mouth and then you see it. Your mouth falls open and eyes bulge out of their sockets, while tears well up in her eyes.

"Maya!" you exclaim, covering your own mouth as she starts giggling through her tears.

"Joon proposed!"

"Oh my fucking god!" you exclaim, squealing as she shows you the ring and you ignore the few stares you get from random customers. "Congratulations! Oh my god, how did it happen? We need to celebrate!"

"We went on a trip over the weekend last week, we stayed in the mountains for three nights and he had this beautiful set up where we just sat by the fire, before I realized he was on his knees and shit, I'm getting emotional again!" she complains, wiping off her tears as you pout through your grin, genuinely happy for them. "I wanted to tell you in person, we kept it a secret and now we're just telling our close friends and family."

"I'm so happy for you guys!" you tell her.

"Thank you so much," she says sweetly, beaming at the ring for the last time before she takes a deep breath and looks at you with raised brow. "We definitely have to celebrate it. How about next week? Oh my god, you know what I had in mind?"

As the waitress approaches you, Maya is already in the middle of planning the celebration and you barely keep up, laughing and nodding eagerly to whatever she has planned.

Wednesday drags slowly even with the bunch of work you got on your plate and the numerous calls you had to make today, to the point it feels as if your head is about to burst and suddenly, being all alone at home with a possible bottle of wine sounds nice. And you're not the type to usually go for a wine.

Peering into the offices, exhausted but still cautious, you bid goodbye to the few of your co-workers that look just as exhausted like you probably do, rushing to your desk to grab your belongings and head out. Jungkook is supposed to pick you up today, help you with the car and he's most likely outside or on his way here.

It reminds you that you haven't seen him since he drove you home, both swallowed with adult things and work that needs to be done. Message here and there, Jungkook hasn't left your mind though. His proposal to be exact. The lonely nights and staring into the screen of your television remind you every day of the lack of time you have and you know, eventually you'll have to make a decision.

So you've spent those evenings and nights thinking about all of this, weighing all the pros and cons with the little bit of help from Jimin who had sent you a message, asking you about how the living is going and whether you know what to do. You've told him about Jungkook's proposal and how unsure that makes you feel, leaving out the fact you've managed to pleasure each other before his proposal even came up in your conversation.

"I think you should do it, Jungkook wants to help and I don't see anything wrong with you living together for some time. You can crash at my place, the offer still stands. Let us help you." His text said as it still lays in your phone.

Jimin's apartment is smaller than Jungkook's and you'd definitely be a bigger bother. It's not very convenient and even though most of your furniture you'll have to leave behind, you've enough clothes as it is that takes most of your space. Even the thought of bringing all of that to Jungkook's place seems like a problem, not mentioning Jimin's smaller one.

Distracted by the hurry of grabbing your belongings, you don't hear the set of footsteps as you drop the notebook where you keep reminders of what has to be done the next day. Growing more annoyed at your clumsiness, thanks to your half-empty stomach that would appreciate a nice dinner but you know you need to deal with the car first. You're not going to mention your hunger to Jungkook though. Knowing him, he'll drag you to the nearest fast food restaurant and you can't afford to waste time, especially since you've made an appointment in a retail car salon. They're closing in an hour and a half, the ride there takes around half an hour already and there's no telling what traffic is outside. Hour in total to look in person and pick your new car.

Just as you're about to bend down to pick up your notebook, a rush of steps is heard and you're met with shiny black dress boots, along with a vibrant voice. "Let me get that for you."

Hand reaching for your item, it's soon handed to you accompanied with sweet almond shaped eyes and a bright smile. So kind that you feel bad for mentally sighing at the sight of your new co-worker, Benjamin, that doesn't hide his sympathy towards you from day one. Behind him, you spot Yoongi not hiding his own amusement as if he could read your mind, trying to act as if he's minding his own business while grabbing things off his desk.

If Benjamin wasn't staring at you as if he's scared he's going to miss something, you'd gladly flip him off for enjoying this. Benjamin is sweet, willing to help but he's also willing to do anything to earn your attention and you don't have the time for this kind of thing. Besides, he's not your type at all but that doesn't mean he's not handsome by no means. So far he seems like a good guy but the constant shadow of him looming around you is starting to bother you. You're not rude enough to tell him to fuck off, even though you've in your mind several times but that only makes you feel more bad for him.

"Thanks," you thank him, forcing a smile out of yourself as you toss the notebook into your bag.

"No worries," he assures you, smiling even more widely and you bid him a goodbye, not hiding the fact you're rushing out of this place as you use the excuse of having to be somewhere.

On your way out, you catch Yoongi's hidden grin which you roll your eyes at, making sure he sees the look of annoyance only he can bring out of you. Getting out of the building along with other people leaving work, you notice Jungkook's shiny car under the streetlights that is hard to miss. He gets out of the car, not noticing you just yet as you are walking down the stairs and when he looks up, your eyes meet in the distance and you can't help the grin that makes its way on your lips.

You're fucked, you think through the grin as you spot Jungkook wearing black jeans with his favorite black leather jacket. Catching a few stares from the women audience, you wonder if he's aware of it as he leans against the car and puts his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. Taking a deep breath while still in a safe distance, you walk up to him.

"Are you showing yourself off to the women audience?" you muse teasingly, throwing a glance to the two women who stare at him in a distance while getting to their car.

Jungkook follows your vision while cocking his brow, tongue poking his cheek as he looks back at you. "Jealous?"

Are you? It's a simple observation that isn't so surprising at all. It's not the first time you're experiencing this.

"Yes, of you," you grin, "I want all the attention." you joke, pursing your lips as Jungkook chuckles.

"You've got all mine," he comments, coming right at you as your heart squeezes with excitement, especially as he eyes you down, noticing the elegant outfit you chose for today. Nothing too much though, just a dark blue blazer with gold cuffs and your usual dark work pants.

"Shut up," you mutter, laughing with him as you take a proper look at him, breath hitching when you finally notice something that hasn't been seen under the streetlights, not until now. "What is that?" you ask, automatically grabbing Jungkook's cheeks with your hand.

Lips pursed thanks to his cheeks being squished by your hand, you angle his head to the side gawking at the silver jewelry that now decorates his brow. First tattoos and now a freaking piercing? Jungkook grabs your wrist and gently pushes your hand off his face as you stare at him with an open mouth.

"Is this some kind of post break-up phase that you're going through?" you ask, brows scrunching suspiciously as Jungkook looks almost offended that you'd think that.

"No," he denies, "I wanted to do this for a while, I just finally got myself to do it."

He has? Well, Jungkook doesn't tell you everything but he has never mentioned such piercings. You know he fancies the one on his ears but a brow? Can't say he doesn't look good, he looks more than good. So good and hot you want to drag him to his car and--

"You don't like it?" he asks, feigning a pout as you chuckle, smirking when you decide to tease him a little bit.

"Does it matter if I don't?"

Jungkook chuckles, catching onto the mischief that's clouding your face, the one he recognizes very well from years of knowing you and your ways of teasing and trying to get on his nerves. It's all playful though, adding to the tension and temptation that sets fire inside the pit of your stomach.

"It does if it lowers down my chances of getting laid."

You know he's joking, you see it in his eyes and you know long enough that he's never caught off guard from your comments, always one step ahead of you. But you don't mind that and it's definitely because it makes you all hot all over again.

Jungkook's eyes crinkle at the ends when you laugh, slapping his chest as you both laugh silently to yourselves, completely aware of the different attention you're getting.

"Who is he?" Benjamin asks, seeing you throwing your head back while noticing a tall man next to you. "Is he her boyfriend?"

Yoongi wants to snort, somehow finding it all even more assuming, when Benjamin's eyebrows are frowned in thought at the sight of you and Jungkook. He could easily save you, lie for you so you wouldn't have to deal with Benjamin's heart eyes and undivided attention he's giving you all day. But would you want that? Yoongi knows you're annoyed and trying to be polite enough to not turn him down when he hasn't even said or done anything bad yet. But what's fun about that? Yoongi enjoys seeing you squirming in your spot and trying to push a smile on your face whenever Benjamin is around, trying to engage you in conversations when all you're trying to do is to work and not biting off his head.

"Hm, I don't think so," Yoongi hums, "He's just her friend as far as I know." God, you'd kill him if you just heard him. He's evil, he's aware of that but if this has to be the only source of his amusement in work, he's all for it. And the fact you're there laughing, completely unaware of this conversation makes it even more funny.

As Jungkook is ready to urge you to get into the car, he notices two people at the top of the stairs and at first, he doesn't think too much about it but then he notices Yoongi, recognizing him as the annoying co-worker as you always call him. He's ready to ignore him but as he glances at the other person, he's met with a guy that strangely looks at him. Surely, it's no mistake because the man's eyes are staring right at Jungkook which makes him question the sudden stare down.

"Who is that?" Jungkook asks, frowning as you glance over your shoulder to find Yoongi who's not staring at you and mumbling something before he starts walking away from Benjamin, whose eyes are set on Jungkook.

"Oh, my new co-worker..." you answer.

"Why is he staring at me like that?" Jungkook asks, confused as you grin at him and pat his chest.

"You're not the only one with all the attention, Jeon," you joke, patting his shoulder as you walk around the car leaving Jungkook speechless, cackling devilishly when he yells at you exactly 'what does it mean?' but you're shutting the door, ignoring him for a few minutes until he drops it with a huff.

You're left speechless. And it's all thanks to Jungkook.

Having to talk and get any information about buying a new car for you has seemed as the easiest thing for Jungkook. He's asking the salesman questions you couldn't even think of, and you've thought you've prepared yourself well enough to get the most important information out of him.

Somehow, you find yourself standing next to Jungkook and letting him handle it, although your ego is trying to tell you to handle this by yourself. You know it's not his intention to make you feel as if you don't understand this or belittle you in the slightest way possible, he's trying to help and get you a good car for your own safety. And you can't even think about your ego or pride, not when you're silently gawking at Jungkook as he holds a stable and intellectual conversation with the salesman, with you salivating thinking...

He is so fucking hot.

And you're crazy. He is doing a bare minimum and you're trying not to salivate at Jungkook sitting in a car, in a driver's seat with an open door while his leg is slouched and arm resting against it. The jeans hug his thighs tightly, just like it always does in those particular jeans and with his leather jacket, he looks straight from the movie. You get hot, feeling the need to fan yourself even though the evening is already chilly enough for you to feel cold. But one look at him and you're--

"What are you saying?"

Silence.

Jungkook turns to you, brows furrowed in confusion as he glances at you, wondering about your lack of response as you blink a few times, chuckling awkwardly. Straightening yourself, you glance at the salesman that luckily doesn't look at you as if you were dumb, just kindly staring at the both of you – tries his best chance to sell the car for sure.

"Yeah, it looks great!" you exclaim too excitedly, causing Jungkook to give you a weird look as he chuckles.

You've spent hours checking this car out, praying nobody is going to snatch it before you can get to it and take a look, buy it if you like it so much. To be completely fair, you did listen to what they talked about – you just managed to salivate at your best friend at the same time. You call it multitasking.

Hyundai i20, in a great state. Has everything important and most importantly, a few things your old car doesn't have. A/C, bluetooth, backup camera, blind spot monitoring, navigation system and even remote start. It's a little bit pricey but the amount of shifts in the club and your saved up money from your main job makes it realistic to afford this. Jungkook definitely approves, you can see it in his eyes and he would love for you to take this car, but the final decision is up to you.

Clueless Jungkook looks at the interior for the last time before he glances at you once again, but this time you're prepared. "Try and sit in it, it's your car after all." he tells you, chuckling as he gets out of the car, brushing past you as your breath gets hitched.

You grow sheepish when you sit in it, finding two pairs of eyes already set on you as they wait for your reaction. "I like it," you admit quietly and giggly, causing Jungkook to smile at you as he gives you a toothy grin. "It's definitely better than the one I have now."

"Definitely," Jungkook agrees, cackling when you send a glare his way, not failing to show his displeasure at your old car.

"The previous owner really took care of this car, you can see it." The beard man says, informing you of something you think he has already mentioned at the beginning.

"Yeah, it's in great condition," Jungkook agrees, suddenly leaning towards you as he leans his arm against the roof, sticking his head inside the car as your eyes naturally drop towards his mouth. "What do you think, boss? Is it yes or no?"

And you're done for.

Immediately averting your eyes to his, you look ahead as you grab the wheel and straighten yourself. "I... yes, I love it." You manage to say, smiling as everyone seems happy with your decision and so do you when you realize what a great deal this is. You were just too distracted to realize it fully, blaming Jungkook for it.

After a few minutes of getting things finalized with the salesman, you'll be able to take the car tomorrow as they'll take it off the market. Meanwhile, you'll send the money to their bank account and thank god for Jungkook, because he immediately offers to drive you here so you can take the new car. Even though you've been distracted by this whole experience, you leave happy and can't hide your happiness as you sit into Jungkook's car.

"The car is great, a little bit too small for me but perfect for you." he teases you, causing you to nudge him in the shoulder as he drives out of the parking lot with a bunny grin.

"Okay, Mr. Mercedes," you joke, the two of you laughing as your laughter fills the car along with soft music playing in the background.

Your bank account will be crying tomorrow, but at least you've earned it and it was the whole point of you getting another job, just so you can afford a better car. But this is not the only decision that had to be made and you had a few days to think about something more important than a car. You get nervous as you're trying to embrace yourself and spill it out. But you always back out, humming to whatever Jungkook is saying to you and even he steals a few glances at you, finding it odd that you're mostly quiet but he doesn't call you out on it.

Although, you do talk about Namjoon's and Maya's engagement which Jungkook found out from Namjoon as he told the news to the guys. And that's probably the only thing you talk about until you grow quiet all over again for the rest of the ride.

"Kook," you call out to him as he parks in front of your apartment building, which stares at you almost mockingly because it's not going to be your home for much longer and it does settle a saddening feeling deep in your chest. "I've thought about... what you said, about the living together thing, you know?"

Jungkook turns off the engine, looking intrigued as he patiently waits for you to finish. He sees you glancing sideways, eyes staring at the parking lot and buildings around as you turn around to face him again.

"Are you sure I won't be any bother?"

Jungkook's lips stretch into a wide grin that makes you want to smile too but you're too serious about this, wanting to make sure even though you know his answer. He knows what that means and he looks genuinely happy about your decision of not declining his offer and moving out to the other side of Seoul.

"Does this mean what I think it does?"

Chuckling, you look down into your lap as you nod. "I'm not gonna lie, I'm not hundred percent happy about this because I don't want to take up any space in your home, no matter what you say about it," you interrupt him as he opens his mouth to disagree about the space in his apartment, "I don't want to be far away. It's just for the time being and I'll pay you the rent, I promise I'll search other apartments every--"

"You can stay however long you want," Jungkook tells you, growing serious as he makes sure you understand that and his awaiting and raised brow are waiting for your response, so you nod. "Good. We're gonna have so much fun, roomie."

"Please, don't call me that." you groan, leaning your head against the headrest as Jungkook devilishly laughs.

Somehow, it feels like a whole another journey ahead of you.

#bts smut #bts fluff #bts au #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook fake dating #personasintro

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