#plus this type of fics plays right into how much i like it when any of the robins but especially tim gets tied up | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

1uvtae · 8 months ago

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i think i just saw my ex. | jeon jungkook

★ word count: 10k- yay!

★ genre: classic exes to lovers,,,with slightly suggestive smut,,,and fluff...and the typical mutual pinning that may be a tad (a lot) angst... also TENSION. SOO MUCH TENSION!!!!! and both y/n and jungkook are trying to play hard to get which might be a bit crack up!!!

★ summary/snippet: jeon jungkook is your ex from many years ago, and you think you might've just seen him in a bar…and a part of you is definitely craving him.

★ kae's little chat: playing the typical kae exes to lovers theme, cos all i write about is exes to lovers micro-fics!! (this might be the only thing i'm good at writing) I recently just bought this glazed donut lanolips lip balm and it is what I religiously used while writing this fic for a whole ass week and I hope this fic tastes and smells like glazed donuts to you guys too ;) also a quick tag for @cassies-cookies!!! the fic has arrived!!!

enjoy a little teaser before you start!! can i consider this as an appetizer??

do you want to give me some feedback? request something fun? chit chat with me?!

this is my masterlist and drabble list for more of my works!

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you are 99.9% sure you just saw your ex.

you can't add that 0.1% on because 1) it is so darn dark in this bar, the annoying flashing lights poking through your eyes and into your soul, and 2), you are drunkenly intoxicated right now.

but gosh, that side profile looks almost identical to him. you've tried to follow him with your gaze, but all you got to closely view was the back of his head. (the very familiar back of his head, may you add.)

this isn’t something you expected on a nice friday evening.

when you randomly woke up in the middle of the night, you realised you typed quite some texts and paragraphs to that familiar number of his, but it seemed like you were way too drunk to hit “send”. thank god.

blank-eyed, staring at the unsent texts, you felt a stinging pain in your chest.

you’re not the type to go back to any of your exes, and all your break-ups have been straightforward and savage. plus, you dumped him first!!!

you sit up on your bed, finger tracing over the floral details of your quilt cover. maybe it was because your partners after him have all been so lame, yes definitely that. additionally, you’ve been very single and lonely for the past few months, that’s exactly why you are missing him.

he wasn’t the perfect boyfriend, you remember how childish he was, and was quite protective over you- which was one of the reasons you two didn’t end well.

but on the other hand…

he was a really good sex partner. you two mended flawlessly together. not to boost his ego or something, but that boy definitely can fuck.

you sighed loudly, pulling the covers over your head. the night is still so long, but you do not have any of the calmness to fall back into sleep.

oh, the long, dark night.

after a whole day of debating and contemplating, you ended up hanging out with a few of your friends back at that specific bar. tonight, you needed someone to get your mind off your ex that you saw yesterday.

when excusing yourself to the bathrooms, you brushed past someone's shoulder in the hallways while scrolling through your instagram feed; he had a broad and tall frame, and his vividly tattooed hand holding a glass cup, and you felt the urge to jerk your head back to see his face.

thinking “this is someone to take my mind off him!!”, you turn your head and your wild imagination completely halts. you feel your eyes widen and your pupils might as well fall onto the ground - it’s your ex.

thank god you just got your hair done a few days back and you were head down, focusing on your phone the whole time, so he didn’t even glance at you. your heart completely dropped and skipped a beat, and you rushed into the bathroom to freshen up.

after you walked out of the restroom, you carefully scanned every table for his silhouette, after locating the target, you walked a good lap around his booth to eye him out. fairly, he wasn’t hard to look for, judging by his clean undercut under those dark brown locks, and his perfect complexions, everyone seemed to notice him the way you did. you spot two girls walking up to him, offering him drinks in exchange for his number.

you were now more than certain that this was your ex… and you’re also certain that you’ll never get over how attractive he is.

once you’ve fallen for jeon jungkook, you’ll never fall out.

on the way home you remembered how hard you worked to get him to date you, it was almost rejection after rejection. and then you dumped him?! gosh, now it will be even more difficult to get his attention.

you feel like giving up instantly at that thought, but you cannot help yourself texting your mutual friend yerin: “did jungkook come back?”

your friend did not respond, which leads to whatever you’re doing right now - sitting on your couch, stalking through social media accounts. it was not under his old username, which made it difficult to find. but you remembered his dog’s name.

after typing bam’s name into the search bar, it only took a few scrolls to find a decent amount of photos and videos of the brown doberman. after clicking into his account, you sigh. he never posts himself, just some more dog posts and a few random scenery shots.

continuing to watch every single video of bam, you see that the newest video of the cute dog was taken in another location that didn’t look like the place from the video from before. clicking on the comments, one from his friend reads “you moved?” he replied: “yeah”

you moved, or did you come back?

just realizing what you’ve been doing stupidly for the last 20 minutes, you lock your screen and toss your phone onto the coffee table. your friend responded right after the phone dropped onto the surface.

“yeah, he quit his job last month, he probably came back”

did he quit his job?

although he moved to a different city after the breakup, he still worked for the same company you worked for - that could’ve been a reason to reconnect. but now that he has quit that job, it makes it impossible for you to even have an excuse to hit him up.

yerin double-texted, “what’s up abt jungkook?”

you: i think i saw him recently

you: he’s still so fine

yerin understood your tone extremely well, responding immediately: do you want me to plan a group dinner or something this week

you: yes please, i’m free every night this week

yerin: y/n, i meant ONLY group dinner…nothing else.

you: of course just dinner…what were you thinking?

yerin: i know you way too well

yerin: you obviously don’t only want dinner

you: hm

yerin was very speedy with her planning skills, the dinner was booked to be this friday night, it wasn’t weird at all since you and jungkook did have the same social circle for years, and considering he just came back, it was just more of a couple of friends and coworkers gathering together to celebrate. but yerin did not hint to him that you were also going to attend this dinner at all.

you stood in front of the mirror, your outfit was carefully picked out, and you spent almost 2 hours doing your makeup- in these years, your style has changed drastically, but you still wore the same fragrance he gifted you.

to create your ‘grand entrance’, you decided to show up late by 20 minutes, just so you can look casual and not too prepared to see jungkook. when you were on the road, you received a speedy text from yerin: be mentally prepared for what’s coming.

huh? be prepared for what?

when you were led to the table of the reservation, you realized what she meant.

you recognised every single face, except one. there was an unfamiliar girl seated right next to jungkook. jungkook wore a casual black hoodie, his hair slightly fluffing out. looking almost too soft to touch. you tried very hard not to lay your eyes on him for too long - since you already got a very personal look from the girl that was seated next to him.

yerin mutters under her breath when you seat yourself next to her, which is right across him. “he brought that random girl over.”

you keep that in mind, starting to greet your friends, then shooting a look back at yerin, then whispering “if you told me this was gonna happen i would’ve turned around on the spot and sprinted back home!!!”

(yerin did tell you after the meal that the second you walked into the room, there were almost no expressions on his face. you don’t know if he was already expecting you, or if he just did not care about you whatsoever.)

you hope it’s not the second option.

the dinner was french cuisine, everyone had already ordered some sort of grilled steak while you decided to order sole fish fillets. sipping your chardonnay, you oversee the girl nudge jungkook’s arm, softly asking, gesturing at your transparent drink: “kook, what did that girl order?” he puts his glass down, responding with a gentle tone: “white wine. you pair white wine with fish. wine with red meats.” “so that's why you ordered red wine for me?” she nods before asking again.

“mhm.” he nods in response, taking a sip of water, with his very charming and endearing smile.

you almost knock over your wine glass when slamming it back down on the table with aggression, suddenly this chardonnay tastes like fucking ass.

you listen quietly to everyone talking about careers and how they’ve been doing recently, jungkook occasionally opens his mouth to input or say something. you realize how mature he has grown over these years, he speaks like a logical, grown man, and is completely not the person you were with a while back. you remember the old gatherings when you and he were dating - he barely says a word during the whole meal. not going to lie, this well-spoken jungkook is super attractive.

the main course came very fast after the drinks. you gasp at the fancy plating. the girl in front of you takes her knife and fork, struggling to slice the red meat. she slowly glances over to jungkook, and he notices her stare, speedily finishing up cutting up his plate, and offering her his already perfectly sliced steak, taking her uncut serving for himself.

after that, you put down the knife and fork, containing yourself to not roll your eyes.

that was an eyeful. might as well just not eat this shitty meal.

after that awful meal, they all planned to go for a second round, but jungkook said that he couldn’t go because he had to drive the girl home. after hearing that, you lost every interest you had in going for shots, which caused you to head straight home on a friday evening at 9 pm. how eventful.

taking a thoughtful and steamy shower, you decided to put a face mask on. a notification from no other than yerin broke the night’s silence.

yerin: jungkook’s here

you bounced up from your bed, replying within a millisecond.

y/n: huh? why is he there?

yerin: he’s sitting on the table next to ours

yerin: u coming?

you close your eyes, every single imagination you had got crushed today when you saw the girl that he brought. it was almost hurtful now that you think about it.

yerin continued to add: he didn't bring the girl, if that’s what you’re wondering

hm…you hesitated for a while, but gave up. you can’t be interested in someone with a girlfriend-

yerin: and!! tae was being nosy so he asked him

yerin: turns out that the girl was just a blind date his mum arranged

yerin: not his gf

yerin: u still have a chance yk!!

you yanked the face mask off, rushing to redo your makeup again. you didn’t even bother to drive there, calling an uber instead. before entering the bar, you ensured yerin grabbed jungkook to sit at the same table.

just when everything was planned beautifully and you were ready to make your grand entrance pt2, you bumped into a client who was by the bar table. how can you reject a business client? quick answer: you can’t. it’s a business client.

having to sit with a stranger by the bar table, but unable to walk to that table with your friends (and your ex) might be the biggest struggle you’ve ever gotten yourself into. by the time you and the client had finished chatting and drinking, jungkook had left not only the table but the entire nightclub.

oh my gosh, you are going to lose your mind! a whole full stomach of alcohol and yet you still haven’t gotten to use your flirting tactics on your ex that you’ve been missing. you did not feel like staying at all, dragging yerin to get out of this hellhole.

but who knew you’d see him again in the parking lot?

every cloud has a silver lining.

and there jungkook stood, leaning against his flashy black mercedes, phone to his ear. the second you saw him, you knew what to do. you were going to fake being drunk. you link arms with yerin, stumbling your steps and attempting to slur your words. yerin has to straighten you up manually when she goes over to jungkook. “hey jungkook! i thought you already left.” jungkook puts the phone back into his pocket. “i was just about to.”

yerin wasn’t hesitant at all, almost shoving you at him, thinking he’d help grab onto you, but he did not move a single muscle. her last resort was to lean you against the car. “perfect! can you drive y/n home? the girls are still waiting for me so…”

he opened his mouth to speak, you figured he was going to reject yerin. before a single sound came out of his mouth, yerin quickly interrupted him, “amazing! thanks so much, dude!! okayimjustgonnago-!” from your peripheral vision, you could see her almost sprint from the parking lot back into the front door of the club.

all that was left was you, who was faking drunk, and jungkook, with his brows, knitted, looking down at you.

judging from how rapidly yerin ran away from you, jungkook knows he can’t do anything else other than drive you home. he sighed and held open the passenger’s door for you. he raised his chin, gesturing you to hop in.“get in yourself.” he heard you chuckle at his words, turning to him and giving him a judging glance, then getting into the seat.

jungkook was extremely confused, and only realized the reason when he got into the driver's seat.

you seemed to not let that joke go, “i’m in, what now?” jungkook keeps a straight face while starting the engine. “seatbelt.”

he drove out of the parking lot, and he immediately hit a left turn, driving towards the direction of your house. after a few moments, he turned his head towards her at a red light. “where do you live?” your eyes were shut, leaning back on the seat, not wanting to respond to him.

jungkook does not want you to know that he still remembers your address off by heart like an idiot, so he turns into a random street on his right and keeps on driving. after feeling the car stopping, you open your eyes, peeking out the window.

the hotel?? he drove you to a hotel?? you kept your eyes shut, as a silent protest to not get out of the car. you knew jungkook too well, he probably wanted to just leave your ass in the hotel, and you won’t get to ever see him again if you went with that.

jungkook nudges you with a finger hesitantly. you didn’t even budge. after a deep sigh from the man in the driver's seat, you hear the engine start again.

he always drove at a perfect steady pace. you swear you almost dozed off when you felt the car stop in the underground parking garage.

jungkook gently held onto you up the elevator, you heard the sound of a door unlocking, and your ears perked up when the sound of the door opening was followed by a loud bark from bam.

he brought you back to his place. that perfectly goes with your plan!!

you behaved the entire way home just for this moment. all that acting led up to this moment. he locked the front door, then squatted in front of you to help you take off your black heels. you were going to be using the moment wisely- when jungkook carried you over to the couch to put you down, you scratched his lower torso aggressively with your right hand.

it was a strong scratch, causing the person carrying you to let a harsh hiss under his breath. he looked down at your sharply shaped nails, then at the girl in his hands right now, your eyes were shut, lashes slightly fluttering.

he always liked working out and had an almost daily streak of hitting up the gym, resulting in his body being super in shape. he had the perfect model figure- abs, pecs, shoulders, you name it. he has it. you look back on how great he was at using his strength advantage in bed, gosh, he was perfect.

even being able to leave a little scratch on his skin could do something to you right now.

jungkook goes straight into the kitchen to pour you a cup of water. the first thing he did though, was lift up his hoodie and inspect the scratch. and under the hoodie, lay two vivid red scratch marks on his lower abdomen. the bright marks went from his veins into his spank bank, the vivid images of you under his control, he reminisces how you always loved scratching his back, his neck, and his shoulders when he hit your soft spots. jungkook’s skin was always very sensitive, making it effortless to leave marks and bruises for days. he recalls his friends making fun of the scratch marks you left on his back ever so often during the few summers when you and he were dating.

by the time he recollected himself and brought you the glass of water, you were already fast asleep on his leather couch. he watches you for a while and realizes you still look the same after this many years. more mature, but still the appearance he could never forget, even in his dreams. his eyes fall on your delicate ears before he puts a stop to his mind.

he clears his throat. “go sleep in the bedroom.”

your eyelashes flutter as you turn to face the other side of the couch, mumbling something inaudible to yourself before getting back into your dreamland.

jungkook: “y/n?”

his ears catching a delicate airy whine leave your mouth.

jungkook isn’t too fond of whatever game you are playing, but he knows what you want to do to him. he’s matured and grown now, not the loverboy that was wrapped around your pinky finger anymore. he can read expressions off your face very accurately. considering the fact that it has been years since the breakup, and you had never broken the non-contact thing.

and suddenly after he got back into town, a reuniting dinner was planned, you showed up to the clubs, and whatever yerin was trying to do, and now- you are in his house, on his couch. he knows exactly what you’re trying to do.

this is exactly the little tricks you used to play, and he fell head-first into it last time.

he promised himself that he would never fall into the same hole twice!

but of course, he won’t let you sleep on his couch for the whole night. this two-seater leather couch is extremely small for anyone to find comfort in. your figure is curled up in the soft seats, and he notices your legs almost dangling out from the couch.

he bends down to swoop you up, and by instinct, your arms find his neck. he slowly makes his way towards the bedroom, not wanting to wake up the girl in his arms.

considering this was a brand-new apartment, jungkook doesn’t have a bed yet- it’s just a mattress in the middle of the floor. he lowers his body carefully and places you in the centre of the bed, thinking your arms would instantly unwrap themselves from your neck, he tries to stand back up. but your grip on him was way too tight, jungkook almost lost his balance, but his reaction was fast enough for him to use his arm strength to hold on both sides of the bed, keeping a small dangerous distance from falling on top of you. his warm breath lands on your exposed neck, and you feel the warmth melting on your collarbones.

you had to keep everything within yourself to not pull him closer, hoping he would find his balance to move away from you, instead, it’s almost as if he bowed his head lower, leaving more burning breath marks on your collarbones. the itchy feeling almost numbing. you couldn’t help but slightly peel your eyes open discreetly- through your lashes, you realise he was already on his feet again, simply pulling the covers up for you.

the soft quilt falls on top of your lower torso, and his warm hand ‘accidentally’ brushes against your thigh before he completely gets up. he watches your reaction for a short while, but nothing from your side. he knew if it this was two years ago, you would’ve absolutely gone for it right now. he remembers even if his hand slightly rested on your thigh while driving, you would immediately get him to pull up on the side of the road for a heated makeout session. but it looks like, y/n is not the y/n he remembered.

jungkook turned off the big light, leaving a small night lamp on by the bedside table before patting bam to follow him back to the living room, planning to deal with the couch for the night.

honestly speaking, if he stayed for even one more single second, you wouldn’t be sure what you’re capable of doing to him.

painful, very painful.

it was almost 4 am when you opened your eyes, trying to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. your eyes land on the agape bedroom door. from where you’re resting, you can clearly see most of the living room. there he lay, on the couch.

jungkook normally sleeps just in his boxers, but considering the fact that you’re in the residence, he had to grab a pair of sweats to cover up. you observe the man on the couch, he is lying on his back, and you end up studying his figure. you could tell he was wearing nothing under those grey sweats- gosh the grey sweats and his shirtless body?!

you shut your eyes and sigh. contain yourself y/n.

if you weren’t already, you’re surely hungry for jeon jungkook now.

but you must control yourself now- jungkook knows what game you’re playing, and so do you. he’s such a slippery fish to catch- you can’t just pull the rod as soon as you hook him?

and, it looks like he wasn’t going to give in tonight that easily too.

this can be a fun game to play.

you watch him for a little longer, he turns his body to sleep on his right side, now his body fully facing you. well- this is awful. it took no time for you to fall asleep for the millionth time, this time- it was a heavy sleep. the scent of his bed surrounding you.

you decide to stay in his bed for a little longer because you know you have to leave the second you wake up.

jungkook also stayed home today, heading into the bathroom to clean up, then making breakfast, following up with feeding bam, and lastly back to the couch, attending a business call meeting.

if you didn’t have to use the bathroom so urgently, you could stay in his bed until noon. you crawled out of bed to stretch, then mentally prepared yourself to walk out of his room. well, you can’t fake drunk anymore, can you?

after coming out of the washroom, you slowly walk to jungkook, trying not to interrupt him. “...do you know where my phone went…?”

his gaze did not leave the laptop screen, his chin raised slightly, directing you to the device on the coffee table- where your phone lay. you hesitantly collect your phone, wanting to thank him about yesterday, but the sight of him so focused stops you. you didn’t have the heart to interrupt him, making way to the entrance.

you put your heels on while watching bam play with his ball on the side. the doberman notices you, walking over to you while cocking his head which reminds you of how jungkook would always do. you reach a hand out to pat his head but bam back up immediately out of caution.

feeling a little butthurt, you ask: “don’t remember me?”

not only forgetting about you, but bam also leaves to sit next to the man on the couch. jungkook gives bam an endearing rub, then looks up at you, standing by the door.

wow, bam. he always preferred jungkook over you, even when you and him were together.

you glance at the black-brown dog….but now you have a reason to contact him again.

although finding his social media account was a hassle, his phone number never changed. the same night after leaving his house, you found the number that you almost accidentally texted.

y/n: can i pick bam up from yours

he replied almost instantly: and you are?

you let out a light laugh in unbelief before texting back: y/n

then it took a good 30 minutes to get a text back. “sure thing, but only if he wants to go home with you.”

you roll your eyes at the obvious fact that: of course bam doesn’t want to go home with you?! considering the cold shoulder he gave you this morning.

but it’s okay since the cute dog was never the target to go for in the first place.

the day after the text, you went straight to his apartment after work, not bothering to change out of your work outfit- because you knew he was very into this specific set. it was a simple creamy white formal skirt set with black opaque tights.( and he loved this set. so much to the point by the time you normally got back home, he would press you onto the couch immediately. your skirt would usually be wrinkly by the time you two were done.)

jungkook answered the door, his eyes instantaneously landing on the girl in front of him, his eyes slightly widened for a split second. he has to admit, that you recognize his preferences a little too well.

it's not because he likes the pantyhose with skirt look, but more because it is on you. especially because he would watch you get ready for work all seriously, and you would get home and find his shoulders immediately, draping on top of him all tired and worn out from socializing. and he was a whore for it.

he’s literally hooked for you.

he opened the door wide open for you, he didn’t have any spare slippers in the house, so before you could take your slip heels off, he stopped you. “no need.”

after shutting the door, he opened his mouth: “you didn’t bring anything?”

you’re here to pick up bam, and yet you came empty-handed, causing bam to only take one glance at you before jumping on the couch, disinterested.

jungkook brought bam’s toys and treats over to you, yet bam didn’t even budge, to the point where he had to physically carry him over to you. it seemed like bam wasn't having any of this, not even giving you any sort of attention. jungkook had to give him a big encouraging talk before handing the medium-sized dog over to you.

you needed a lot of strength to hold the doberman in your arms while jungkook went to get a dog leash. the second bam saw the leash in jungkook’s hands,he started to struggle out of your grasp, struggling to get out of your embrace.

you weren’t prepared for the dog to be so strong, before you could let go of him, he had already left a faint bite mark on your arm, you winced under your breath while watching bam hop over to jungkook’s feet. jungkook hurried to drop the leash, coming up to you. “are you all good?”

“just a bite.” you brought your arm to his eye level, it wasn’t bleeding or anything, just a clear bite. “i’ve got some antibiotic ointment. you want some?”

you nodded your head. “sure.”

“...do you want to those off then?”

“hm?” you followed his eyes, looking down at your tights, a hole had been scratched open too, and you didn’t realize that maybe bam had also scratched you on the leg while trying to get out of your grasp. “yeah- yeah. i’ll do that.” you answered after excusing yourself to the bathroom. taking off the nylons, you threw them into the laundry basket before checking the scratch.

it was nothing but a pink line, you hurried out of the room, scared that by the time you headed out, it would already have faded.

jungkook was already seated on the familiar couch by the time you finished taking your tights off. you went over and seated down extremely close to him. pressing your thigh against his knee to show him the faint mark. he kept a very straight face while taking out the otc ointment from the first aid kit. he treated the few marks, you don't know if it was intentional or not, but he applied way too much on the injuries, leaving a big patch of your skin covered in ointment.

you look at him, who is now putting the cream back into the box. he clears the silence, “it doesn’t seem like he wants to go with you.”

you let out a sigh, looking at the dog resting by jungkook’s side. “it’s a shame that he completely forgot about me.”

“it’s been too long since he last saw you, that’s why.” he gives loving pats to bam, and you find an endearing smile creeping on your face at the scene. you muttered under your breath, “i missed him, i definitely wanted to live with him.” jungkook turned his head from the dog to you, adding “i take great care of him, and he likes me more.”

you went silent. that’s an unarguable fact. the silence went on for another minute when he spoke again. “gotta rebuild the trust again.”

your ears perk up at his comment…does this mean you can come to visit more often…to build the relationship again?

but you know it’s petty unlike for bam to like you again, lowering your head slightly, you mention, “i don’t think so,” you look up into his glassy, pure eyes, “i don’t want to force it. he looks way more comfortable with you anyway.” you’re not sure if jungkook wanted to hear that, but his brows slightly knot as he slowly opens his mouth to speak. “you’re giving up? even just being friends?”

your eyes immediately widen- you’re not sure if he meant being friends with bam…or him. he subconsciously avoids eye contact with you, looking back down at bam. “since i- no, bam, can consider you as a co-owner.”

you like the sound of that.

this is something you could get used to.

jungkook didn’t seem like he minded you staying, so you obviously did not have any intentions of leaving just yet. you’re playing with bam (surprisingly you and bam have gotten quite along within an hour) when his takeout arrives. he hesitantly asked you if you wanted to have dinner together, which you agreed happily to. he walked into the kitchen to cook something extra for the two of you.

you weren’t too hungry, but you had to admit you desperately missed his cooking. it was already 9 pm when you and him had finished dinner. the entire time it was filled with small talk and comfortable silence. you left right after dinner, saying farewell to bam, and received a slight nod from jungkook.

after getting home, your phone buzzed with a notification from jungkook’s number. it was an image of your tights in his laundry basket. you locked the phone without replying and hopped into the shower.

after doing your skincare, you casually replied: “chuck it in the trash”

jungkook sent a photo of the tights in the rubbish bin with no other caption.

you decided to tease him a little: or you can keep it if you want

jungkook: ……i’m not that gross

as if he has never touched your tights. you don't even remember how many pairs of your stockings he had ripped during the time when you two were together.

as if he could read your mind, he sent a full 2-minute video of him taking the rubbish bag outside, followed by him throwing the plastic bag into the rubbish bin with no remorse. you watch the video on a loop for a few minutes, chuckling to yourself.

you weren’t sure what got into your mind the next day. after taking a relaxing bubble bath after work, something within you told you to find jungkook. although you were very rough from working, you still felt energized to prepare yourself. after putting on a tank top and a skirt- you made your way out.

your hair still damp, you decided to pick some snacks on the way to his house. with confident and happy steps, you knocked on his door.

no answer.

you stood outside the locked door, dialing his number: he picked up within two rings, voice relaxed and soft. “what’s up?”

“are you not at home?”

he paused for a split second “you’re coming over?”

you hummed in response, “i brought fried chicken too.”

“i’m out fishing.” jungkook said, then changed to a softer tone. “since…it didn’t look like you were coming over tonight.”

you suppressed your laughter, teasingly asked: “so you were waiting for me then?”

the other side of the phone remained silent, causing you to let out a giggle. “i’ll come find you, share your location.”

he hung up, sharing his location with you right after- a freshwater lake close by. you made your way to his location with no hesitation.

bro he’s actually fishing on this fine evening.

it was extremely dark by the lakeside, but you could make out the figure of many middle-aged men sitting by the lake. turning your phone flashlight on, you spot your familiar ex-boyfriend in the middle of many men.

he stood up to borrow a foldable stool from the man next to him. you tidied your skirt before sitting real close to him, your arm pressing against his. he looked at you on his side, “it’s too hot.” he muttered. you didn’t move away at all, instead, you decided to lean your head on his broad shoulder. he didn’t move away either.

you didn’t understand the joy of fishing but still watched him the whole time quietly. it felt peaceful to have him against you by the dark, calming lake.

instead, jungkook felt slightly heated - how is it possible to focus on his rod when he had you leaning on him? it only took him half an hour to start packing his equipment, he couldn’t stand you next to him! you’re such a distraction! (not that he’s complaining…)

after leaving the lake, you two stood under the road lights, he glanced at you under the warm streetlights. he noticed your glassy eyes of discomfort. he looked down at the few itchy bites on your arms. oh shit- he forgot to remind you about that.

the lake was surrounded by grassy areas, he was smart by wearing a long sleeve and sweatpants, but he forgot to warn you about the mosquitoes before sending you his location. it was only around 30 minutes, but he could spot a few reddish marks on your arm, waist, and legs.

you didn’t realise this when you were by the lake, but now that you’re under the light, you can see the spots clear as day. jungkook takes your hand to lead you to his car, occasionally having to stop you from touching the mosquito bites. “don’t scratch them, we’ll be home soon.” he tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, before stopping to caress your earlobe for a slight second.

“but it’s itchy.”

“patient.”

you bite down on your lip. patient. you should’ve been patient when you were taking that damn bath!!! this is what you get when you’re too eager for jeon jungkook.

jungkook took you back to his, immediately using a cold damp towel to caress over the little scattered bites. the mosquitos that were by the lakeside were deadly- the small pink dots had turned into a few red swollen bumps.

you were in his embrace, feeling nothing but defeated. this is literally his second time treating your injuries within two days. a familiar feeling you feel before tearing up runs up your nose, triggering your eyes to start to build up with tears. oh, you feel so guilty right now. almost weeping in his lap, he comforts you on the back while the other hand applies ointment on the bumps, he pulls out a handheld fan to relieve the itching.

“there’s more on the legs.” you tugged on his sleeve, speaking through sulking. jungkook moves to search for the rest of the bites, not expecting you to lift up your skirt to reveal the red mark on the inside of your left thigh. jungkook hesitates for a split second before applying some of the white ointment on his fingertip, his heart seems to be beating faster than usual - his head spinning, but he ignores it.

when his hands move closer to the spot, you close your legs slightly out of discomfort, just enough to cover the mark with your panties. jungkook feels his breathing fasten, he uses his middle finger to push the fabric of the underwear out of the way, rubbing the treatment on the spot. he wasn’t too sure what he touched, but he was sure he saw a slight reaction from your body, causing your hand that was holding the skirt to slightly twitch. feeling a twinge of playfulness creep up, he holds the small fan to the spot, turning it on with the press of a button.

you immediately close your legs out of sensitivity, giving him an alarming look. the second your legs squeezed against each other, jungkook swore he touched your core with his hand. he felt a numb shoot from his hand, through his veins, then right to his scalp.

you noticed his reaction on his face, and downwards. half of you wanted to take the rare opportunity- but you listened to the other half that told you to slow this down. you decided to leave after that interaction, not giving the both of you what you two obviously want from each other.

plus, he has the whole night to deal with that problem. and plenty of time to think about you.

talking about giving him time, you made the cruel decision to not contact him for the next few days. not to remind you, there was a load of work you had to do for this week for your job.

you knew jungkook would never break the ‘no contact’ type of thing either, but through some late-night stalking, you did find him updating his social media a little too frequently. either it was some workout progress pictures or his dinner with bam. weird.

the weekend came by fast, yerin texted you wondering if you wanted to go bowling with her, you hesitated, wanting to use tomorrow getting ready to see jungkook and bam. but she added that jungkook was going to be there- and you were immediately sold.

yerin’s boyfriend was decent friends with jungkook, they always hung out together, but right after you and jungkook ended things roughly, her boyfriend did not seem to like you very much. which is very reasonable since you did break up with him over text and whatever. which is something that has been keeping you awake at night lately.

arriving at the bowling alley, you see someone familiar with jungkook…the blind date girl. she had two bottles of sprite in her hands while sitting on the side benches. you can’t help but notice the pair of matching sneakers they had on.

you watch with widened eyes as jungkook goes over to her to converse, his eyes glistening with a smile that you haven’t seen in a while.

you do not like jeon jungkook very much right now.

yerin drags you to go say hi to her boyfriend and jungkook, you get a hesitant and sly “hey” from yerin’s boyfriend while jungkook on the side spares you a glance, just one single glance, to instantly turn back to the girl, the two chatting away. oh okay, so he’s going to do this now.

out of annoyance, you decided to cheer and clap for every other guy that is up bowling. you immediately caught the attention of one boy, he walked up to you, asking for your number with redness rising from his ears. naturally, you couldn’t reject him right now, giving your number in a swift motion right in front of jungkook.

still no acknowledgement from him.

finding a spot next to him on the benches, you intentionally sat closer to him. he gave you one warning look before scooting to the other side.

the girl on his right seemed to notice you, sparing you a cautious look while handing jungkook a pre-opened sprite bottle- he took it easily, raising the bottle to his mouth to take a sip out of it.

you slightly raised your arm, bumping the bottle with some strength just before his lips touched the bottle's mouth…causing a few drops to splatter out and onto the collar of his t-shirt, and his face.

as this was not expected at all, the other girl lets out a sharp gasp before pulling a pack of tissues out of her purse, and he takes it urgently to wipe the liquid off his face. you feel him turning to look at you, head cocked, his tongue poking around his mouth. you decided to play dumb, “shit, i’m so sorry kook, i didn't mean to do that.”

the girl on the other side kept calling jungkook by kook the whole time, hearing the nickname leave your mouth, he knows exactly what you’re doing. you’re doing this again.

jungkook didn’t make a single sound, while yerin’s boyfriend couldn’t help but let out a chuckle out his mouth at your actions.

when he got the chance to bowl, he took it very seriously, pins knocked after pins. yerin nudges you to capture your attention: “it’s definitely because he wants to show off to someone he’s interested in.”

you: “can’t be that blind-dating girl, can it?”

yerin: “well it’s not you…not after all that…”

you commented sourly: “she’s not his type.”

yerin gives you a knowing smile. “y/n oh y/n.”

“i know yerin, i’m being very stupid. but i can’t help it.”

you fully understand what “the grass is always greener on the other side” means now. you want what you can’t have.

the loud sound of many pins being knocked down, this is his second strike in a row- a turkey, if you will. your eyes darted towards him after the ‘STRIKE’ was displayed on the screen, but he was looking at the girl sitting on the bench, currently giving him two thumbs-ups.

he responded with a boyish smile.

and that was your cue to leave. you told yerin you felt like leaving early, and she grabbed your arm before you could go. “we’re nearly done then we’re getting dinner, you really wanna leave?” “yeah, i’m going…” you replied, uninterested anymore.

driving home, your phone buzzed many times when you hit a red light. yerin notified you that once you left, it seemed like jungkook also lost his energy to continue playing, hitting only a few pins before leaving with the girl without staying afterwards.

an idea popped into your head, causing you to spin the wheel and turn back- to his house.

this will be the final time you’ll ever willingly go to his house if this does not work out the way you wanted.

when you arrive at the familiar door, you know he probably hasn’t gotten home just yet. you decided to wait outside. the thought that what if he brought the girl home? races through your mind as you suddenly shoot up, contemplating whether you should just hop into the elevator and go home before you vividly see that image happen in front of your eyes.

you are now facing the closed elevator, a shaky finger hovering over the “↓” button. just before physically pressing it, the ‘ding’ from the elevator pulled you back to reality from your thoughts. you watch the door open at a snail's pace, revealing the figure of one specific person- just one, thank god.

jungkook has his phone in one hand, scrolling through emails when he notices that a person is standing outside of the elevator. and it was you. his girl.

eyes meet. he holds strong eye contact, and you could look right through those brown eyes. no words were needed at this moment. the distance between the two of you closes when he hurries to unlock the door, takes your purse and throws it onto the couch, pushing you against the back of the door. everything just simply felt right. his right hand immediately found itself slightly pinching the soft flesh of your earlobe- as if it was made to rest on top of your lobe.

you seriously missed being this close to him, feeling your knees weaken as he pressed his soft lips on you, he tasted like exactly what you’ve been missing for these years. it feels almost like what you feel when you’re in love. you pulled away when bam nudged your foot, but he was more forceful than ever, lifting your chin to meet your lips with his again. you only needed to focus on jungkook at this moment.

right when your hands were finding their way into his shirt, he pulled away, gazing at you. “i got to shower first.” he said, slightly out of breath.

jungkook rushed home after dropping that girl off, planning to take a shower before driving to your place. he had nothing to lose at this point- he doesn’t care if you know that he still remembers your address; he doesn’t care if he’s the one outside your door this time. the way he should’ve been two years ago.

but he was taken by surprise when he saw you outside his front door.

he couldn’t keep lying to himself that he doesn’t think about you, because you’re all he’s been missing about every single day. you, you, and only you.

you couldn’t let go of him at all, scared that he’d just slip away if you didn’t have your hands on him. “we can shower together.”

…the ‘shower’ took almost a whole hour. the bathroom echoed with your whines. many times, jungkook had to wrap his hand around your mouth, softly reminding you through his own pleasurable groans “the walls are thin in the bathroom, darl.”

carrying you to his bed, you were surprised at how effortlessly the mattress allowed him to move all over you. at first, you did not realize, but he was being way too harsh with you.

he was rough when he wanted to be, but he was never this rough?!! jungkook had no hesitation in marking you, pinching your waist when you moved in his rhythm, every single push inside of you made you feel like he wanted to pin you straight into the bed. not to mention- your entire body has been scattered with bites and signs of his touch. you’re definitely not complaining about how perfect he felt when he mended into you, and you had to admit, he was so fucking hot when he is rutting himself inside of you out of pure desire and frustration.

jungkook did not want to hurt you in any way, and you both knew that.

but you did not need him knowing that this was the most passionate, satisfying sex you’ve ever had. so you made the bold decision to start putting your underwear on right after the sensual fuck. not giving him any time for aftercare.

jungkook was lying comfortably on the bed when he noticed that you wanted to leave, his quick reaction caused him to sit up, large hands holding down your waist as he pressed you back down into the mattress. his bright eyes stared at you, “where are you heading to? hm?”

“back home,” you maintain deep eye contact, it’s hard not to kiss him when his soft, pretty lips are at a reachable distance in front of you. “i obviously can’t stay the night…”

jungkook’s grip on your waist tightened, you swear you saw the light in his eyes die out almost immediately. almost a fog covers his pupils and you figure maybe you were a little too extreme with that answer.

a delicate emotion runs across his face and he almost looks hurt when he finally gathers his words, “so…you waited outside my house…just to sleep with me?”

in that moment, you felt like the biggest cunt in the world.

you couldn’t find the right answer, if you said yes, you are the biggest cunt in the world confirmed- if you said no, you don’t think that’s a correct answer either way.

after not collecting a response from you, jungkook lets go, plopping back onto the bed, it’s almost like he took that silence from you as a confirmation of his theory. he laughs to himself, “fuck, why do i keep falling for these games you play?”

he moves his eyes away from you, to a random object in the room. “if you could’ve told me you’re real intention to simply just sleep with me ages ago, we wouldn’t be like this at all, y/n.”

you close your eyes, remaining in your position on his bed.

in the start, you were definitely in it just for a quick fuck. but it looks like you’re now in deep waters. jungkook is irresistible- and you might’ve gone way too far with this one.

“don’t say that.” you move to his side, “i seriously loved you back then.”

“if you loved me, i don’t think you would’ve sent me off to a different city, y/n.”

“i told you it was an opportunity…i know you’d be better off if you got that job, even if we broke up, i wanted you to be successful, and not- stay in this small city…being stuck with me.” you replied, hoping he would meet eye with you again.

jungkook was tired of arguing about this. he knew the both of you weren’t the best when it came to communicating, he didn’t want to leave your city because you were in it, but he knew it might’ve been the end when he saw his name on the office announcement. he told you he couldn’t accept doing long distance, while you simply replied over text “then let’s just end it all. no matter if you go or not. let’s just end it here.” and that ruined him.

it was almost like you just desperately wanted to get rid of him.

if only he had the balls to drive to your house to talk this out, but he didn’t.

he absolutely should’ve, but he didn’t.

“look at this! it’s painful.” he stopped in his thoughts when your head found his chest, you were pointing to the bruises he had left on your thigh. “jungkook! bruises.”

jungkook didn’t want to respond at all, but couldn’t help looking down on your pretty body. many parts of your skin were turning red from his roughness. he knew he didn’t use much strength at all, your skin was just easily sensitive. but he couldn’t help but feel his heart soften slightly when he heard your voice full of sulk.

he spoke with a gentle tone “sorry,” while circling an arm around your waist, massaging your hips. “does it still hurt?”

“yeah.”

jungkook adjusted his position, hovering over you, he kissed every single mark he made on your body, making sure every single area on your skin was being loved.

“what now?”

you knew exactly what he was asking about. what now? us? but you played dumb once again. “what?”

looking down at you his tongue ran over his pillow lips, he remained silent.

“you explain the matching sneakers first.” you raised your eyebrows.

“i bought them on purpose after i saw her wearing them after friday dinner. to piss you off.” jungkook replied.

but he didn’t include the part where he rejected her forwardly and blatantly the first night when he drove her home after dinner. he didn’t include the part where he asked her the night before going bowling if she could help him with a favor. he didn’t include the part where the favor was to ask her if she could come and help him act this way to piss you off.

you couldn’t help but let a giggle slip when he stared at you with a straight face. “okay, now i like you a whole lot again.”

after receiving a satisfying answer, a smile of relief crept onto his face, feeling his jaw unclench. “so you’re not just in it for one single fuck?” he teased.

“one won’t be enough.”

“give me an amount then.”

“i don’t know…until you’re bored of me? i guess?” you replied, intertwining your hand with his.

i will never get bored of you, he thought to himself. he looked at your soft hand interlocked with his, not only will he never get bored of you, but he’ll also never let go of this hand ever again.

his other hand reached for your earlobe.

after getting back together with jungkook, you’ve realized how different this man has become over this time.

you remember him sometimes being very unreasonable, overprotective, almost overwhelming- of a boyfriend. and of course, sometimes jealousy is cute! you get that, but he was over the top about it. but now- now this is different.

it’s the indifferences that make a relationship cute!

occasionally you still pull a cheeky lie, telling him that you’re going home to rest- but bumping into him in a local bar. he wouldn’t be angry at all, unlike before. instead, he would drag you with a teasing smile to come drink at his table. that’s when you know you’re in for a long night back at his house.

but there was something you really wanted to talk out with him.

one summer night, when the cold wind was blowing through his large window, you turned your body to face him- there was something that was keeping you up tonight. he felt your movement next to him, “what’s up?”

“it’s been like…two months since we got back together, right?”

“right.”

“i think i want to talk some things out.”

thank god the night was dim, and jungkook was grateful because of that, he knows the expression on his face is not very charming. if this was a face-to-face conversation, he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to handle it.

“yeah?” there was a hint of calmness in his voice, almost like he was forcing it. jungkook doesn’t know what to expect. he thought there would be a different result this time- he’s a different person! he finds himself desperately praying with his aching heart that this will not be another heart-shattering break-up again.

at least, this time it's in person, right?

right?

he was lost in panic when your hand squeezed him under the quilt.

“jungkook, do you think i broke up with you because i wanted to get rid of you?”

was it not? the three words were stuck in his throat, but he wanted to hear your voice more than his own right now.

“well, it wasn’t. it was for a more stupid reason- not because you were clingy, and whatever you thought. i wanted you to be successful, of course. but it was all out of my stupidity, i texted that out of anger, i didn’t actually mean it. i just wanted to see if you would come find me. come talk it out. i know we both weren’t good with words.”

you lowered your voice, “stupidly, a selfish part of me- even though i wanted you to get the job- a little bit of me still wished that you would’ve picked me over that.” after your little statement, you felt a heavy rock was lifted from your chest.

the hand that you held slightly twitched under your grip. he fully moved to face you. you turned away out of embarrassment.

to honestly admit that you love jeon jungkook, is a harder thing than you thought.

you felt the mattress vibrate, and then you realize he was now laughing at you. “i believe everything you say, even if you lied to my face, i would trust you without a doubt, y/n.”

“that was all my honest words!!!”

“i know. i know.” he said through chuckles. you turned towards him, embracing your urge to touch your lips with his. with muffled laughter, he moves right on top of you, locking both sides of your body with his strong thighs.

it’s annoying how he’s still smiling….when he’s peeling your pyjamas off you.

his eyes are glassy and glowy under the reflection of the moonlight, you could get lost in them for days.

“i don’t care what you say,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, “i’ve always loved you more than you did me. y/n.”

“okay then.” you replied, not wanting to argue with the man who was currently pressing lovebites on your neck.

jungkook smirks against your neck,

way, way more. (end)

here is my masterlist if you want to enjoy some more of my writing!

and until next time, kae.

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papergirllife · 2 months ago

Text

Lee Taeyong (M)

‘I beg you don't embarrass me, motherfucker.’ But there's always exceptions when it comes to love right?

Taeyong x Bartender! Reader

Wordcount: 6.7k

Warnings: in this fic Taeyong has impulsive tendencies and physical aggression (not towards reader), light b*ndage, or*l play, slight or*l fixation, grinding, penetrati*on, Taeyong is very much down bad in this fic so lots of fluff.

The party is so boring, no one’s dancing even though they’re dressed to the nines in this extravagant hotel ballroom that could rival any celebrity’s expensive wedding, but instead all they’re doing is talking business, but the worst of them, are gossiping, and of course, to your downtrodden luck, you’re the gossip of the night.

“He’s going to be bored of her soon, I just know it, just look at her, so different from his ex and usual type.”

You’re not the type to be affected by being shit talked, however, you do have your worries, and frankly, heartbreak is one thing, but your ego? That’s another, you think to yourself as you sip on your glass of scotch. You sigh as you recall how you ended up in this predicament in the first place.

Maybe you should’ve thought through this more thoroughly, you think to yourself after seeing people go in and out of the supply closet, which is obviously a disguise for the illegal casino beneath the pub you’re working at, though, some people do really come for just drinks, but most of them are customers of both businesses under this roof and since you’ve been here for a week plus now, you recognise some of the regulars by now, but a man you don’t recognise is suddenly taking a seat right in front of you, usually customers prefer to go to your colleagues who have been here far longer and know what customers want, only helping out more on weekends where more people come in for a drink.

You rise from your stool, yes, one great thing about working here means workers don’t have to meaninglessly stand the whole night.

“You’re new here?” the man asks, and if you were being honest, he’s probably the prettiest man you’ve seen, but you screw a neutral expression on your face, one should never let their guard down around a man of all things.

“Yup, what can I get you to drink?” you ask as you take in his appearance, dripping in designer, a pretty loose blouse that accentuates his sharp facial features, earrings hanging off his earlobes, the designs feminine compared to what most men wear.

“Scotch on the rocks, please,” he says while he leans back to make himself comfortable, his arms crossed, usually clients would be looking around for someone to take home by now, the usual ‘pub guard’ scanning, you like to call it, but for the ones that want a drink before going down to gamble, they usually have this impatient look in their eyes, not that it affects you, your skin is as thick as a cheese wheel.

However, this man just sits and observes you. Is he part of the mafia and is scared that someone’s going to poison him at any moment? Or is he a cop and is trying to make you cave to tell him about the illegal casino downstairs? You’re just going to act like you had no idea, you’re not working in the casino itself, they can’t charge you on any terms as long as your boss has an alcohol licence, which is what they promised you when you interviewed, if they’re lying you’re gonna have to kick someone’s ass.

When you pass him his drink, he just sits back and takes a sip, his obnoxiously large eyes still looking at you, they’re pretty eyes, but you’ve never kept someone’s attention for this long, though, in most cases, you could walk away, like those creepy men on the subway, you’re not sure if this guy’s a creepy guy, he hasn’t tried grabbing your hand yet, if he did then you’re viable to call security, but he’s just watching you.

“So, what brings you here?” he asks, a hand mindlessly swirling the glass in his hand.

“Needed money, Seoul isn’t getting cheaper by the day,” you say, a general answer.

“How old are you?” he asks, prodding, why is he still prodding?

“In my early twenties, above the legal age to serve you drinks, what about you?” it’s time for you to prod, engage with customers a bit, your manager always tells you, be a little friendlier.

“28. You look older than early twenties, not that it’s a bad thing, of course,” he says, and with the way he says it, you know he doesn’t mean it in a demeaning way, not that you mind, you swore off men long ago, people always tell you there’s better fish in the sea, but all you manage to fish are trash.

“Thanks, I did my makeup to look older,” you reply as out of the corner of your eye you catch a group of men walking in the pub.

“Why?” he asks, oh men, they’re so innocent to the things women go through everyday.

“So people would take me seriously,” you answer honestly before you excuse yourself to make drinks for the customers, you don’t want your manager to think you’re slacking off within a month.

However, after only finishing their second order, your colleague says she’d take over from you, thinking the customers are her regulars, you move away without questioning.

So you go back to talking to the man, this time round, he finally reveals his name to be Taeyong, he even orders a second drink of your choice.

“A negroni?” he asks with the expression of a kicked puppy, smacking his lips distastefully before he requests for a glass of water.

“Wanted to try it out myself one of these days, but I was unsure, guess I’m quite certain I won’t ever try it now I guess,” you say with a shrug and a chuckle at how comical his expressions are, a little bit of betrayal and a tinge of shock, which makes him look more human in your eyes.

A new customer makes his way to the bar in the meantime, but Taeyong’s brows scrunch up when he sees you’re about to step away to serve the customer.

“Let other people handle him, you just stay here with me,” he suggests.

“Taeyong, as nice it is talking to you, I’d like to remind you that this is a strictly professional relationship, please respect the boundaries between a bartender and a customer-

“Missy, who do you think you are talking to him like that, do you know who he is-

“It’s fine Ms Choi, she’s right, I’m merely a regular, I need to respect her boundaries,” Taeyong says, cutting off your manager.

Your manager looks flabbergasted before she composes herself, bowing to Taeyong before she drags you away from the bar to the small staff area on the side.

“I'm warning you since you're new here, Mr Lee is a VIP, don't do anything stupid, he's not the type to pull dumb shit, so you have nothing to worry about. Alright, that's all, get back to work,” she says before dismissing you.

“If you're worried about getting less tips then you don't have to worry, I'll tip you accordingly for the time spent talking to me,” Taeyong says when you get back to your spot.

“It's not that, I’m getting paid anyways, tips are just an extra, I'm still getting paid a base salary talking to you and not doing anything, so a win is a win, I guess,” you brush off, it's not that busy today anyways.

“No, I'm a responsible customer, how about you make me another drink? One that you fancy?” Taeyong suggests.

Hence for the whole night, you indulge in the lengthy conversation the two of you share, and with every night he comes in, you find comfort in this growing friendship, the only hiccup being that he tips you too much money and he won't take no for an answer.

Months go by and the lines between you and Taeyong start to blur, but you're still quite hesitant, you haven't committed in a relationship since a long time ago and if you're honest, you don't know much about Taeyong other than the fact that he's a businessman, but of what sort of business? You don't have the foggiest idea.

Tonight is a Friday night, which means the bar is busier than usual. Surprisingly enough, Taeyong hasn't dropped in tonight, he doesn't come in every night, but he'd never miss Friday nights.

“Hey, can we get two martinis,” a customer asks, distracting you from your wandering thoughts, and you quickly get to work, but out of the corner of your eye, you see a familiar silhouette heading towards the direction of the fake storage room where the underground casino entrance is located, but the customers asked for something on top of their drinks and you were distracted once again.

After a few more customers, Jiun, a bottle girl and your fellow colleague, rushes to your area of the counter in distress.

“Table 5 wants 6 Coronas in a bucket but I think I just got my period, is it okay if you bring it to them?” she asks, and how can you say no to a woman who's in need of help?

“Sure thing, do you need a pad?” you ask, just in case, you're sure you have some in your locker if she doesn't.

“No, I have one on me, but thank you so much,” she says before scurrying off to the direction of the bathroom.

After putting together the order, you quickly make your way to the table with the customers’ drinks, placing down the bucket on the table.

“You new here, pretty girl? Never seen you around before?” one of the men at the table asks.

“Nope, just helping out my coworker,” you replied as you began to make your way back to the counter.

“What a shame, a pretty face like yours should be admired more, why grind behind a boring counter?” another asks, this one's nearer to you, standing up from his seat to get closer to you.

“Sorry, I have to get back to my job now,” you say, trying to excuse yourself, but the man grabs your arm, telling you to not rush and sit down and have a bottle.

Suddenly, you feel a presence behind you and then you feel someone pulling you by the strap of your money pouch.

“She said no, unhand her,” you'd recognise that voice anywhere, and looking to your side, you see Taeyong next to you, his usually round boba eyes now appearing in a sharp warning stare.

“Fuck off, dude, we were here first, shouldn't we have first dibs on her-

Before you could react to being demeaned in such a way, Taeyong's fist connects with his ugly face, and to your horror, both of them start fighting.

You quickly try pulling them apart but Taeyong pushes himself and the man out of your way, telling you to get security, you didn't want to leave his side, but thankfully, security were already making their way to your direction, blocked by a few drunken customers, his friend, takes the chance to jump in on the fight, and who are you to stand there and do nothing? Taeyong might be handling one guy on his own just fine, but you can't watch him get beaten to a pulp in your name, and you did the most logical thing you could think of by kicking the guy's head with your thick heeled boots and to your astonishment, he seems a bit disorientated by the ordeal, security finally made their way to Taeyong to pull the guy off him and escort him out the pub.

“Are you okay?” you ask Taeyong, but when you inspect his condition a bit closer, you cringe at his busted lip and bruised cheek.

However, before you could suggest accompanying him to the hospital, police arrive at the scene and next thing you know, you’re being escorted to the police station for questioning along with the asshole and Taeyong.

They finished up with you quick, they were a bit sceptical about Taeyong merely defending you, but you played it up a little by lying about how scared you were and maybe you chalked up a little bit on how his hands felt like they were everywhere on you, but it's the least you can do for Taeyong, and it's not like there were cameras anywhere.

“How long is he going to be questioned, officer?” you ask the policeman who had questioned you.

“Probably not long, seeing that his lawyer is here,” he points to the entrance, where a tall man in a suit walks in and follows the lead of an officer into the room Taeyong is being questioned in.

Knowing that he has a lawyer with him, you sigh a breath of relief and sit down on a nearby bench, the coolness of the plastic material digging into your skin, you regret wearing your beloved black velvet shorts now.

Fortunately, true to his words, Taeyong came out soon after, heading to a nearby desk to finish up some paperwork with his lawyer, so you get to your feet and head over to him.

“Brawling in your own pub is a new low, Lee, just let your boys handle shit like this next time,” the officer says.

“Wait, what do you mean your own pub?” the question flies out of your lips and Taeyong looks up, stunned, not knowing that you were still here.

“Leave the questions for later, just finish signing the papers and head out,” the officer orders, with a roll of your eyes, you stand right there, waiting for Taeyong to explain himself, his lawyer trying his best not to laugh.

“So? Care to explain yourself why you've been lying to me this whole time? Regular my ass,” you mutter the last part to yourself as you walk out the police station, cursing when you realise you don't have your coat with you, it's bearable now that it's creeping into June, but you've always preferred being warm.

“I'm going to get going, my cab's here,” his lawyer says, grasping this small window to leave before he gets caught up in a lover's quarrel, passing Taeyong something, to which you identify as car keys.

“Thank you, Johnny,” he says before turning to you with a sigh, his lips sit in a thin line, looking a bit lost at the sight of you, your usual smile wiped from your face as your pretty eyes stare daggers into his face, arms folded, and that's when he notices the goosebumps littering your arm.

“I didn't tell you that I was the boss because I wanted to get to know you without the label and pressure of me being your boss,” Taeyong explains as he shrugs off his coat to hang it on your shoulders before he directs you to a luxury SUV parked nearby.

“You could've told me sooner, asshole. And, why did you pull that shit tonight? You could've gotten yourself beaten to a pulp if I didn't literally step in and step on his head,” you lament, expressing your dissatisfaction with your entire body to the point of swinging your beloved Coach bag that you told Taeyong you were saving up weeks for, and Taeyong thinks you're so cute when you're angry, but he does have to make an effort to dodge the angry swing of your bag as he helps you climb up the passenger seat of his car.

“I know, and thank you for saving my ass but I need to shut the door and get going now, princess,” Taeyong says and does so before you could protest his usage of endearments when you're mad at him.

“How about we get some food before I drive you back to your place?” he suggest when he starts the car, seeing that you're now giving him the silent treatment, face turned to the side to look out to not see him, but the word ‘fine’ uttered from your lips has Taeyong breathing a sigh of relief as he confidently drives into a familiar street where he knows a convenience store is located.

After getting and heating up noodles and onigiris to share, the two of you take a seat in the empty store.

“Don't do embarrassing shit like this on my behalf ever again,” you warn before digging into your cup noodles, the spicy warm soup bringing instant comfort and familiarity after such a hectic night.

“It doesn't matter if it's on your behalf, that fucker deserved it,” Taeyong reasoned as he peels off the plastic wrapping of his onigiri, taking a huge bite of the delicious rice ball he was craving.

“Just don't do anything stupid anymore, if I couldn't handle myself I could've called security, you doing something stupid embarrasses me too, you know, I don't want to end up in the police station with you ever again, my friends are going to think I'm dating a crook,” you say offhandedly, but Taeyong’s eyes are as wide as saucers as he takes in your words.

“Wait, what do you mean dating?” he asks with the biggest smile on his face, onigiri placed on the side, suddenly he's not hungry anymore.

“Don't tell me you're not taking responsibility, I'm literally wearing your jacket and risked jail time for your ass,” you say so casually that Taeyong feels like he's having a fever dream, not even his best fantasies would he ever depict himself being labelled as your significant other.

“No, never, I'm definitely taking full responsibility, and I promise, no more doing stupid shit to embarrass you, I swear,” Taeyong pledges, his hand coming up to salute you, the goofy gesture finally getting the first laugh out of you for the night.

“Though, to prevent me from doing stupid shit, I have a proposition, you have a marketing degree right? I know you said you're against working for big corps cause you hate how they practically steal money off of people's needs, but I do have a few establishments, restaurants of a few cuisines, that need a proper marketer to oversee and promote, so if you're not opposed to letting go your bartending job…” and before Taeyong could finish, you were quick to say yes.

Boy, do the days go by so fast after that, your new job is mostly online, you have two coworkers, a graphic designer –Mark Lee and a social media manager, or better known as the restaurants’ staffs’ biggest fear, Lee Haechan. A small department compared to the two finance departments, one for clean money and one for dirty money, but if anyone asks, you'd say you didn’t have a clue.

Starting out a new job wasn't easy, nor was it too difficult, being a ‘quite fresh’ graduate meant you still recall plenty of the knowledge you've studied in college, but the huge funds you had was of great assistance, which brings you to this party hosted by his friend.

Taeyong said he wanted to bring Yuta, his omakase chef who had just earned his first three Michelin stars under his new restaurant, thanks to your hard work in marketing to attract new rich customers and food critics.

However, people on the top of the food chain always had a reputation of being absolute dickheads.

“She’s literally younger than him, his ex was older by five years at least, and she was one of us, I did some digging, this girl isn’t even from one of the SKY universities,” one of them comments, and it’s true, you’re not that smart and you weren’t born with a silver spoon in your mouth, but what has you freezing in your spot is what comes out of their mouths next.

“I heard he got into a fight at his own bar for her and ended up getting detained for a bit, she’s just going to have him end up locked up if he stays with her, people like her bring nothing but bad omens.”

“Don’t tell me you’re letting their words get to you,” Yuta says, popping out of nowhere beside you.

“Even the strongest trees waver under the pressure of the winds, Yuta,” you say before finishing your glass.

Yuta and you have grown close after you had worked closely to promote the restaurant, and he values your opinion of which presentation you prefer, which is rare for chefs, especially the ones you've worked with with many years of experience and a reputation.

“Yeah, but who gives a fuck about some shitty pretentious university, that shit don’t matter as long as you land a job, plus, their faces are so botched, you look way better, Taeyong would never pick these shitty pick mes over you,” Yuta comments way too loudly for your comfort, but thankfully the girls were loudly squealing at the fact that their friend is finally here, welcoming her, unbeknownst of Yuta’s lethal words.

“Pick who over my sweetheart?” Taeyong asks, a hand coming to rest around your waist.

“I said you wouldn't, but someone’s doubting after hearing a few snarky remarks,” Yuta says, which has you freezing in your spot, Taeyong’s always been very protective and defensive about you, you don’t want to witness him fucking someone up tonight at such a prestigious party.

“Yeah, trust me, man to man, he’s definitely just fucking her on the down low, he’d never go for someone lower class, she’s most probably just a cheap fuck,” you look over Yuta’s shoulder to see a man standing next to one of the girls who were talking shit about you, two people were blocking their sight of your little group, so they hadn’t seen Taeyong coming back.

And to your horror, Taeyong leaves your side, walking up to the little clique.

“Oh god, he’s going to embarrass me,” you say with a groan before you quickly follow Taeyong as fast as you can in your Louboutins.

With a swing and the cracking of bones, you see the guy hunched over immediately, cursing as he holds his bloodied nose in his hand, when you finally got to the scene, the music had been cut, the place drowning in shocked silence no thanks to your heels, sue you, but you didn’t expect to need to run tonight, it was just two feet but these heels are so unwalkable.

“Don’t let me catch you assholes talking about my girlfriend ever again, you don’t want to know what I can do beyond breaking your nose,” Taeyong threatens as the guy quickly cowers on his spot on the floor.

“I wouldn’t mess with him if I were you,” someone says as they walk towards the scene, his name is Woozi, Taeyong had told you about the host of this party being a close friend of his who he had helped out when he had just taken over his father’s empire, you had no idea how much that meant to Woozi, but seeing them interacting now, you understand that if you mess with one of them, the other one immediately retaliates, “you wouldn’t want to go against him or me,” he says, elaborating no further, you hadn’t ask Taeyong what Woozi’s empire entails, but you think the less you know, the better.

“No, no, please, I was stupid, I’m sorry, miss,” he apologises to you before quickly escaping the scene, the girls leaving as well, tails tucked between their legs as they scramble, it’s quite an amusing scene.

“Thank you for standing up for me, Woozi, it’s nice to finally meet the host of this amazing party,” you say before sticking out your hand for him to shake.

“The honour’s all mine,” Woozi says as he takes your hand, “and nice to finally meet you, it’s nice to finally put a face to the person hyung’s been gushing about nonstop,” Woozi teases, which then earns him a light playful slap from Taeyong.

“Gushing is perfectly fine, I just wish he’d stop embarrassing himself and me on my behalf,” you say with an annoyed sigh as you turn to stare daggers into your boyfriend.

“Oh come on, I couldn’t just stand them and let them belittle you, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t do anything?” Taeyong retorts with a sheepish expression, he knows you don’t like it when he goes out of his way for you to this point, but he couldn’t help it, he loves you so dearly.

“You’re just proving them right by reacting, Yong, we talked about this,” you say, exasperated as you toss your arms up in defeat, you don’t know how to get this through his head at all.

“Proving what? Baby,” Taeyong calls out as you take off to the exit too, you have decided that tonight has been too much for you, you're tired of all this glitz and glamour with this thick layer of utter bullshit with their grade school playground gimmicks.

“Help me keep an eye on Yuta, I need to talk to her,” Taeyong quickly says to Woozi before he picks up the pace to follow you, ending up out at the lobby of the hotel, you were talking to the valet, and he distantly hears you asking for the keys.

“Baby, come on, don’t be mad, I’m sorry, I was stupidly acting on impulse, you know how defensive I get when it comes to you,” Taeyong reasons, but you keep quiet, trying to compose your thoughts, your car that you share with Taeyong pulls up, and immediately Taeyong tries taking the keys from the valet.

“You drank,” you say before pushing his hand away to retrieve your key, you did too, but Taeyong’s alcohol tolerance is much lower than yours, god knows he shouldn’t be driving.

Taeyong’s heart warms when he registers the chastise from you, you still care about him, you still love him, and so with a love stricken smile on his face and a slight bounce in his step, he's a giggly drunk so this happens all the time, though when he gets in the car, he worries once more when he sees how you chose to not play any music nor talk whilst driving.

When the two of you finally reached home, you immediately retreated into your shared bedroom, not sparing Taeyong a glance, not even when he offered to remove your heels for you.

Taeyong sighs to himself as he follows you upstairs, you had locked yourself in the bathroom as of now, probably cleaning your face free off makeup, he knows how you much you hate the texture of it on your skin despite loving to doll up, and he can’t blame you, even bb cream feels a tad bit too thick for Taeyong when you had applied it on him for fun.

Taeyong quickly changes into his house clothes and leaves the bedroom, just in case you need more space, he never wants to intrude when you want some alone time, even if he craves your affection, you’ll come around soon, you always do, Taeyong reassures himself.

When Taeyong was about to turn on the telly to kill some time, he hears you walking down the stairs, turning back to look over the sofa, Taeyong’s jaw drops at the sight of you.

Adorned in a beautiful lingerie set with a delicate crystal chain hanging around your upper left thigh, your face without a smidge of product, but he thinks you look best like this, but what finally has his cock twitching was what you had in your hold, a familiar pair of handcuffs.

“Sweetheart…” Taeyong mutters as thoughts of endless possibilities of how the night would play out runs through his head, but you silence him with the tip of your finger placed on his lips.

“Just let me do my thing, sit back and enjoy,” you say before you drop to your knees, your sultry eyes watching Taeyong’s every expression, and the sight of his Adam's apple bobbing has you cracking a smile as you lock his hand into the handcuffs.

Taeyong feels like he’s being hypnotised when your eyes stay on his whilst sliding his pants and boxers down, he almost didn’t feel his cock twitching from the cold air, but before he could even register the cold in its entirety, you take him into your mouth, the sudden action has Taeyong cursing, he would’ve bucked into your mouth if it wasn’t for your hands holding his hips down, he breathes a slightly frustrated sigh from the restriction, but like the little minx you are, you quickly hollow your cheeks after sinking in deeper, the tip of his length hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck!” Taeyong curses as he grows tense at your ministrations, he swears he almost came right then and there when he felt the constriction of your throat, his fingers turn white from grasping against the cuffs to anchor himself.

You take in the sight of him struggling to not cum and take pity on him, your mouth leaving his cock with a pop with a sly smile on your lips before your hands grasp him tightly, making sure he doesn’t cum too soon, the pressure sending a jolt down Taeyong’s spine, his usual round boba eyes now hooded but he scrunches them shut on impulse when you push back the foreskin, exposing the sensitive tip, giving it quick kitten licks before you suck on it like a lollipop, your tongue placed underneath his tip and you suck hard, and that’s when Taeyong goes over the edge, his body seizing up, you quickly take him down your throat, smiling around the edges of his cock when you feel the familiar warmth running down your throat, you keep him in your mouth until he stops, pulling off of him with a slight giggle when you see his chest heaving, limp against the couch, all from your undoing, and what a power trip that gives you, a rich and powerful man succumbing to your actions.

“How are you holding up, baby? Need a break?” you ask as you straddle him, tossing over your leg to situate yourself perfectly between his thighs, the lace material coming into contact with his cock, twitching back to life when it feels the slight warmth and moisture of your heat.

“More, please,” Taeyong utters as he tries his best to move his hips, and so you indulge him, rotating your hips until he hardens underneath you again.

You hear the clinks of his cuffs when you stand up, ceasing all physical contact, giggling when you hear him beg for you to come back, but he goes mute when he sees you shift the crotch of your lingerie to the side, climbing back into his embrace.

“You’re gonna ride me all dressed up prettily, sweetheart?” Taeyong asks, head tilted to the side as he takes in the sight of you, eyes locked onto his as you stare down at him, and he can’t help himself, lowering his head to litter kisses on your arm as he inhales your scent, call him a madman, but your scent might as well be as addictive as nicotine itself, the way he can’t seem to get enough of it.

Taeyong then shifts his head to the valley of your breasts, mouthing at your cleavage, pulling down the flimsy coverage by its thin straps to gain access to your bare chest, goosebumps rise on your skin when he finally takes a nipple into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks on it like his life depends on it, like he really wants to eat you up, the action has you chasing for more pleasure, grinding your clit on the tip of his length before you can't take it anymore, reaching down with shaking hands to position him to your core, moaning his name as you finally slide down, slowly taking him inside you inch by inch, Taeyong's succumbed to the sweet feeling of your warm walls, giving up on worshipping your boobs, instead he's gripping onto your hips hard as he focuses on being engulfed in your heat, he's kind of slobbering on your right boob, but you find it arousing, the way he's so lost in pleasure, his eyes shut, brows furrowed as he mutters a string of sweet nothings as you make your way down to the hilt.

An almost delirious smile makes its way onto Taeyong’s face when you squeeze around him, head dipped low as he curses from your actions, you tilt his chin up with your fingertips, ego inflating at the sight of how wrecked he is and you barely even started.

“It’s been so long and you’re still reacting this way,” you noted as you caressed the side of his face.

“For you? Forever,” Taeyong says with full honesty, eyes overflowing with lust as he confesses, looking so vulnerable, underneath you like you’re his god, and in a way, you might just be, if Taeyong had it his way, he’d build a palace just for you and dedicate his life to you.

“I know,” you say with a row of your hips, cursing in unison with your lover when you feel him penetrate the deepest parts of your heat, that sensitive spot that has your toes curling.

Spurred on by Taeyong’s ever vocal devotion towards you, you raise your hips before slamming down once again, and the moan of your name escaping his lips has you doing it again and again, the quick drag of his length against your flesh has the whole house filled with the sound of sex resonating within its walls, you’re grateful Taeyong’s unit is the penthouse, because Taeyong’s always been so vocal in bed, his voice pitched much higher than it usually is, and as much as you revel in the feeling of people admiring your man, you don’t want anyone else hearing how beautiful he sounds when he’s laid bare underneath you.

With how fast you’re going, you’re sure there’s indentations of the sofa’s legs on the expensive wooden flooring, but fuck it, you’re so close, but you’re to blame for that, clenching on him every time you sink down, just so you could see the way he tries the very hardest not to cum way too early, not that you’d mind, it happened many times before, and you still find it so hot.

Deciding to not prolong the torture any longer, you reach down to rub quick circles on your clit as you grind the tip of his cock to that one spot deep inside, that perfect 12 o'clock angle that has your legs turning jelly, with a hiss of Taeyong’s name and a spasm of your walls from the shocks of pleasure coursing through your entire body, you finally reach your peak, your body sagging in sweet relief, your sensitive nipples feel so good against his skin, but after having a quick moment to yourself, you quickly slide off of him with a loud squelch that got a giggle out of you even in this heated state, getting down on your knees and take him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and suck, lips stretched, with his dick lodge at the back of your throat when you see his legs buckle and soon after, splashes of his warm release drip down your throat once again, when the flow ceases, you pull off of him with a deafening pop.

“Good boy,” you say after getting up brushing his cheek softly with those tender eyes that make Taeyong weak in the knees, only he gets to see this tender side of you, and it drives him mad sometimes, that it’s only reserve for him, of everyone you could choose to dote on, you chose him, and he hopes you’ll keep choosing him till the end of time.

With a quick click, he feels the cuffs being loosened and tossed away, instantly his arms are around your figure, pulling you into a deep kiss, the taste of himself on your lips spurs him on, but he wills himself to get his shit together, he knows you must be tired from doing all the work tonight, and there’s something that needs to be addressed soon, and so he pulls away from your lips, his hand placed on your right cheek, thumb brushing against the curvature of your cheek bone.

“Do you feel better now? Are you still angry at me or do I need to do more than letting you ravage my body like that?” Taeyong jokes with a laugh, but he immediately sobers up when he sees you sigh and climb off his sturdy legs.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten mad like that,” you say as you cringe as you recall how you acted out earlier today, you know no one’s perfect, but when you slip up, it reminds you too much of your own mother, throwing a tantrum and running away, and you swear you’d never be like her, but at the end of the day, you’re a work of progress, and fortunately, Taeyong understands.

“Do you want to tell me what triggered you?” Taeyong asks, his tone gentle, he never directs his aggression at you, no matter the situation, he loves you too much to ever even think of doing that.

“They said some things, and they’re not entirely wrong-” but you’re being cut off by an irritated sigh, Taeyong hates it when you demean yourself this way. “Before you get mad, hear me out, they said how I’d always get you in trouble, and when you think about it, they’re not wrong, I literally landed you in jail the first night we got together, Yong, and the shit they said about me not being from one of the prestigious universities, they’re not wrong about that, it’s just facts, I’m just not part of this elite social ladder, that isn’t the point. The point is that I feel like I’m tarnishing your reputation and in relation, your businesses,” you finish off with another sigh, you haven’t been sighing this much these days, so this feels oddly familiar in the worst ways possible, Taeyong’s been making your life more comfortable every single day, but you on the other hand, are contributing to his troubles.

“Don’t let them get to your head, you’re literally bringing in so much profit for me, sweetheart, next time I’ll throw a party just to show everyone how our numbers are doing, it’ll blow them away, also, you’re doing all that without a goddamn degree from those snobbish colleges. Lastly, you don’t get me in trouble, it’s just part and parcel of protecting the person I love, something they’d never understand with how shallow they are, don’t let people with an EQ of 0 determine how you live, and I know what you want to say,” Taeyong says when he sees you open your mouth to protest, “I’ll try my best to not get in trouble and keep my temper in check, but I do hope you understand that if it isn’t me, I’m just gonna have someone else do the dirty job of beating them up,” Taeyong says, compromising, that’s how his father and mother did it, he always believes that’s the key to a long lasting marriage, which is something he’d want with you in the near future.

“Fine,” you say with a sigh, but he sees the ghost of a smile on your face as you lean down to rest your head on his broad shoulder, littering kisses from his neck to the end of his shoulder, Taeyong lets himself bask in your affection for a bit, knowing that you thrive off giving physical affection, but he's a clean freak at the end of the day, getting the both of you clean is still a priority.

“Come, let’s have a bath, my love,” Taeyong suggests as he carries you the direction of your bedroom, and you let him, soaking up the feeling of being loved, maybe Taeyong’s right, nothing matters when you have a love as cosmic as the one you share with Taeyong.

#nct smut #nct fluff #nct #nct imagines #taeyong smut #taeyong fluff #taeyong #taeyong imagines #nct x reader #taeyong x reader #nct 127 scenarios #taeyong scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct 127 #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fanfic #taeyong fanfic

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tswhiisftteedr · 10 months ago

Text

Good Pup ☆ One Shot

☆Mean!Sciences Proffesor!Divus Crewel x College Freshman!Fem!Reader:

After seeing you excel in his class, Professor Crewel interest had peeked. You were not from this world, and your academic knowledge was far too different from what was taught here, too different for it to be considered fair for you to study such material at the college level, a lost cause, he thought at first. And yet, he couldn't help but feel proud as you quickly rose to become one of the top students in his class. One day after potionology you had forgotten your textbook behind, and being the great teacher that Divus Crewel is, he ought to give back to you. After looking around for a bit, then spotting in a hallway talking with your friends, he happens to overhear about your secret thoughts on him…

Based on this ask and poll.

Warnings: Mature Content, Swearing/Explicit Language, Spanking(of ass, thigh, and pussy, by hand and pointer), Choking(on dick lol), degrading names, pet play ig?(just names like pup, dog and mutt but not anything else in that area). READER IS A COLLEGE FRESHMAN AS NCR IS ONE IN THIS FIC SO THEY ARE AT LEAST 18, CREWEL IS CANONICALLY 32 SO KEEP THAT IN MIND BEFORE ENGAGING.

Note: This is sort of a remake of ‘Personal Training’ but instead of Professor Vargas, it’s our dear sadistic Divus Crewel. Like a different Au, so the encounter between reader and professor Vargas didn’t happen here. Also why are all the proffesror mean you may ask, well the answer is quite simple… I like to bullied by authority figures/people in charge and those fics self indulgence 🤪✌️. Also for future request, if not precise what type of behaviour you want for the love interest, i will default to writing mean!dom!character or pervy!dom!character cuz that’s i like lol.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Ever since starting classes at NCR Wonderland, you felt off about begin your academic journey as a college Freshman. Sure you were the right age for it, but wasn’t it a bit to much of an ask to start with college courses, especially with most of the mediums being different from your world? But at last you had no choice but sucking it up, working harder than any other student in your year to keep up. Though you did enjoy some of the classes, just because they had familiar concept. Magic analysis was like any other analysis class you had taken before the topic was just different, you also had music which was the same as back home, and of course there was Potionology…

That class was your beacon of hope each week. You genuinely enjoyed it, not only because it resembled chemistry, making the 'laboratory process' easier to grasp, but it was also the only class where you could actually use magic! The mixtures you created could do things you could only dream of in your world. Moreover, making such complex and potent elixirs made you feel useful. You felt competent with this world's materials because of it, even if Crowley didn't find a way for you to return home, you possibly could get around. Of course, there was another tiny reason why you loved the class so much, actually it was a pretty significant one. Even in your own thoughts, you couldn't deny that you were practically drooling at your professor each time you entered his classroom.

But how could you resist? That man was incredibly hot, smoking even. And his voice, god! It was undeniably sexy. Plus, the way he addressed you was so appealing: Generally, he would call you a 'pup', 'good girl' or 'good dog' when you did something right or answered a question correctly. He'd say 'bad dog' or 'bad girl' if you made a mistake.

He would also refer to himself as your trainer, at some point asking of you and Grim to address him as "O Great Crewel" or "Master/Master Crewel" instead of "Professor Crewel", as a form of discipline.

And fuck was that hot, honestly that was the primary reason you worked so diligently in his class. Hearing his praise and being able to call him "Master" only served to fuel your fantasies.

You wondered how he could discipline you in a more 'physical' way. Would he use his pointer or his hands on your thighs and ass when spanking you? Would he continue to use the usual nicknames, or would he resort to degrading names like 'slut', 'whore', ‘needy bitch in heady’ or perhaps 'greedy pup'? The curiosity from it was driving you mad, to the point where you even considered pulling your panties to the side and touch yourself at the sound of his voice, as taught class unbeknownst to it all.

Naturally, you wouldn't actually do it. After all, even if your noises didn't give you away, the smell certainly would. (You were certain the beastman in your class would detect something like that.) However, there was a certain allure in to the scenario.

Perhaps a classmate would inform your professor, leading to a public reprimand. You picture your professor criticizing your behavior while you stand in an embarrassing position for all to see. Your skirt would lifted and he would be abusing your behind, probably edge you during the spend of the whole lesson. Then right before the bell rang, he would touch your sweet spot one last time, and right around his fingers you would squir-

Oh, right, the bell. Class had just ended. You snapped back to reality and turn to your friends. From their expressions, it's clear they've been trying to get your attention for a while.

Hastily gathering your things, stuff them into your backpack, and follow your friends out of the classroom. Unbeknownst to you, the potionology textbook you need for tonight's homework is left behind on your desk.

You soon reach the hallway where you and your friends usually sat at a break. It's lunchtime, and as per your routine, you start your daily rant about your professor to Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, and Sebek. Grim is also there, but as always, he is so focused on his food that he isn't paying attention.

Meanwhile, Divus was getting ready to head to the teachers' lounge to enjoy his lunch when he noticed the Potionology textbook on your desk.

Even if he didn't know where you sat during class time, he could tell that it belonged to you by the fact that it had small pawprint stickers surrounding your name on the book’s bridge. The memory of you telling him that customizing the book that way was the best resurfaced. After all you were a "good pup, so why not add the paw prints to match the statement.”, you had told him when he inquired about the decorations.

That comment made him chuckle, which brought a bright grin to your face. While it's true that he would refer to his students by such names, at no point in his career did a student use the term to address themselves. To be honest, he finds it cute that you adore the name that most of your peers detested. You simply smile and giggle anytime he uses it to compliment you, and you pout like a real puppy when he corrects you. ‘Truly adorable.’

He actually liked you. Regardless of how your entourage behaved, you were an excellent student who did not cause any problems. You paid attention in class and worked really hard to achieve the highest grades not only in his class but in others, but it appeared to him that you were more interested in the course that he taught compared to the rest. In non-magical courses, you received an average of 70-80, and your sciences marks were in the 90s, slightly higher grades.

Divus also liked how, despite the restricted male uniform, you had altered the uniform to be more fashionable with the consent of the headmaster. Instead of the dull pants that came with it, you wore a skirt that was little longer than mid-thigh but did not reach the knee. It was elegantly embroidered with a swirly thorn pattern, and you wore stockings to match it. A work of art in the man's eyes, which made you even more favourable to him; he adored when someone had a true sense of fashion.

Despite your puppy-like demeanour when he spoke to you, there was a gleam in your eyes, a lustful one at that. You looked at him as if you wanted him to bend you over your desk that very instant, practically eye fucking him throughout the lecture. You may not realize that he noticed, but as a desirable man, he was highly aware of such things. He observed as you unconsciously rub your thighs together, while he chewed you up for a small error; he 'was expecting better from such a bright girl like yourself, this was extremely disappointing'.

Even though he kept it to himself, attempting to maintain professionalism, him still being your teacher and all. Maybe you weren't as horny as he believed, just slightly flustered by the charming way he addressed you, especially coming from a handsome man like himself. However, no matter how sweet you were, you couldn't fulfill his desires. He craved someone he could dominate and control, someone who to basically bully into submission. You were far too innocent and gentle for that. He assumed that if you did have any sexual thoughts about him, your fantasies would be quite vanilla in nature.

‘And oh, boy, was he wrong!’ That was his thoughts when he overheard the conversation between you and your friends, having finally reach the hallway you usually frequented, your potionology textbook book in hand.

A bit earlier,

You and your friends had started eating and you were babbling;

“Okay, lisent, like hear me out-“ you begin,

“I am not hearing, YOU out. You’ve already said enough.” Sebek quickly retorts.

“Valid point, but, but think about it. Hot mean teacher disciplines you with a spanking while degrading you.” You suggest,

“NO!” Sebek tells you horrified.

"Come on, Sebek, don't be so ip tight. I may not be into that kinda of stuff, but Y/N has a point. I don't get the appeal, but Professor Crewel does fit her type.” Ace tells the distress crocodile.

“But he's a teacher, OUR teacher. I don't understand how people can have crushes on their teachers, but openly lusting for them should be prohibited! Also, not discussed like any other normal subject!” Sebek tells the card soldier.

“I agree with Sebek, you should keep such intimate thoughts to yourself.” Jack adds on,

“Ya say that but chur tail be waggin' like an exited puppy. It’s obvious ya like hearin' bout the naughty stuff from missy over there!” Epel comments.

“That’s not-“ Jack begins, but cuts himself off, like Epel said his tail was wagging crazy so he couldn’t deny anything. So “whatever!” was all he said, followed by a huff and a frustrated growl.

"Look, I'm not saying people should go out of their way to fuck their teachers; it's just that the man who potentially would fulfills all of my desires and fantasies happens to be my teacher. And, honestly, he must be aware that his nicknames and actions would turn some students.” You say to the group,

“What? How’s that?” Deuce questions.

“Come on, it's not like you can't go to NCR if you're into things like pet play or bdsm. He must have known that each year would have some students who fit that description. Don't tell me you thought he was completely clueless towards that?” You explain,

“Well when you put it like that, I guess Professor Crewel probably knows about it.” Deuce sorta agrees.

“He’s probably just ignoring it, pushing it to the back of his mind and pretending that it’s not real.” Ace comments,

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too. But at the end of day, the fact that he’s aware doesn’t change much, I still won’t get him to bend me over his desk” you say with a dramatic sigh, making both Epel and Ace laugh.

“Honestly even if there was some stellar chance that he could be into me, he’s probably in a relationship already. If he isn't married, he is most likely casually dating someone.” You add on.

“Yeah, too bad for ya!” Epel says with a snicker.

Unknown to you and your friend group, the same professor you were discussing was right around the corner, listening in on you thirsting over him.

And truthfully this was a shock to him. Sure he might have found you attractive, but also he had convinced himself that you couldn’t fulfill his desires. Now turns out both of your fantasies aligned, and he was going to make good use of that knowledge.

Now heading towards your group the clacking sounds of Divus’s heels made all of you turn around. Some of their expression where terror, some confusion but Ace and Epel looked like they were holding in a laugh.

Clearing his voice, “Miss.L/n, just the person I was looking for. You had forgotten your potionology textbook in my class, so I went looking for youu in to hand it back, you wouldn’t want to miss tonight’s homework, now would you?” He told, as passed you the book.

“Oh, um, thanks professor Crewel!” You exclaimed a bit distraught, ‘did he hear what I’ve been saying or what?’

“Try again. You know that’s not the appropriate way to address me, now is it.” He states making you rethink your words,

“Right, sorry, Master Crewel...” You spoke out.

“That’s much better. Now come along pup.” He said as he turn around and started walking,

“What- why?” you ask confused. And he turns his head to gaze at you.

“Well isn’t it obvious, you and I got much to discuss. Do not question me anymore today, or any day for that matter. Stand up and follow me right now, otherwise you will suffer greater repercussions than I originally planned to make you endure.”

“Oh, okay.” You squeak out and grab your belongs, now trailing right behind your dear professor Crewel, ‘oh, right, O Great Crewel.’

You returned to your classroom, Divus locked the doors behind you. He had been sitting at his laptop for the past 10 minutes. You were sitting on a chair, on the opposite side of your desk.

"I have magi-mailed your other professors, they have cleared your itinerary for the afternoon. Lucky for us, today was the one I had spares in the afternoon as well." He informs you.

"But if this talk was going to take a while, I could have just come back after class," you say.

"No, I must have a chat with you right this instant.” Divus replies.

You only nod, turning to gaze out of the window to ease your nerves. Of course he noticed, so he turned his lamp desk on, it was bright, then magically closed all the blinds. He moved from his seat to your side of the desk, resting on it as he looked down at you.

“Now, let’s start this talk. Do you know why I brought you here?” He inquires.

“I’m sorry sir I don’t know.” Honestly you weren’t sure maybe he overheard you or maybe this was about something else.

“Not don’t play coy pup.” He told you sternly,

“Perhaps my grades sir…” you croak out, barely above a whisper.

“I guess you decide to persevere in your bad dog act, stand up.” He tells you, sounding exasperated.

“Wh-What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself mutt!”

Without a word you did as you were, the suddenly felt a had push on your back, not protesting anymore you just expect your fate as you were now folded upon the wooden desk.

“Looks like your not completely hopeless, but that one time show of obedience won’t exempt you from your punishment.” He said, you felt a somewhat thin metallic object glide up your right leg, you guessed it was his pointer. “Spread” was all you heard before the words were followed by a swift whip of the pointer.

You were dazed by the feeling, not completely registering the given order. This seem to irritate Divus, as another strike came down, but this time you react right on impact, now having your legs nicely spread out. ‘Your head was slightly dizzy, was this going the way you thought it was?’

But before you could linger on that thought, you felt Divus's hands remove your panties from your hips, letting them drop to your ankles. Your ass and cunt were now exposed to him. You heard a little shuffling, then his soft breath was in your ear. "Listen, since I'm not going to say it twice. I overheard you being a little slut, talking to your friends about how much you want me to hurt you. So that's exactly what I'm going to do, I'm going to discipline you to never forget how to address me, to never talk so lewdly in front of another man, and to make you incapable of living a functional life without me in it. Now, if you understand, say, ‘Yes, sir.’”

“Yes!..sir—!”

"Good. Now I'm going to spank you, and you must count after each hit and thank me for it, you may only address me as Sir or Master, if anything other than what I've instructed comes out of your mouth or you mess up the count, we'll start over and add 10 more strikes for you to go over. Also, you aren’t to touch me unless instructed otherwise.”

By the time he reached strike 29, your bottom was a of deeper color than your regular skin tone, covered in marks and bruises. Your thighs were quivering from the constant impact of his hand on your sensitive areas. "Twenty-eight... Thank you, sir..." You panted heavily, biting down on your lower lip to suppress any further sounds of discomfort.

Crewel stopped suddenly, taking a moment to admire his work. He ran his fingers gently over your bruised ass cheeks, leaving trails of coolness where they brushed against your heated skin. "That’s wrong," he spoke out, a spank from his hand came down your ass this time. "You already said 28, this means we have to start over. But this time, we’re going up to 40."

You whimpered softly, your eyes widening in terror as you realized what this meant for your already sore ass. "N-No! Please, I apologize, sir! I'll count better!" Your pleas fell on deaf ears as Crewel resumed his merciless assault on your sensitive flesh. Each strike landed harder than before, leaving deep marks that would surely become bruises soon.

"One... Two... Three... Four..." Eventually, you reached number 40. The last blow sent waves of agony coursing through your entire body, and you let out a strangled cry. Tears trickled down your cheeks, streaming down your face as you struggled to catch your breath. "Thank you, sir..." You managed to choke out between heavy breaths.

After giving you a moment to recover, Crewel noticed the wetness between your legs and smirked cruelly. "You enjoyed that didn't you, filthy slut?" he growled, his voice lower than usual, almost seductive.

Grabbing hold of your waist and lifting you slightly before slapping your sensitive folds forcefully. The sudden contact caused a sharp gasp to escape your lips, followed by a moan of mixed pain and pleasure.

"What did you just say, mutt?" he demanded, his voice dripping with malice. "No, don't answer," he continued before continuing his barrage on your sensitive areas, alternating between your lips and clit, ensuring that you wouldn't forget this lesson anytime soon.

After several minutes of relentless punishment, he finally stop the smacking of your privates. Following it by cupping your dripping folds in his hand, rubbing them roughly, spreading your juices over your sensitive flesh.

Than bringing his fingers in view for you to see, sticky liquids all over them."You see how much you enjoy this, don't you?" he growled, his voice low and menacing.

Your body had shook after every blow, your moans had turned into sobs as you struggled to maintain composure. Through tears and gasps for air, you managed to choke out between breaths, "Y-Yes, sir... I love it!" your tone was desperate, pleading for more even though your body ached in pain. You couldn't deny the intense pleasure mixed with the agony.

“That’s it," he praised, his voice dripping with false approval. Reaching between your spread legs once more, he inserted one finger into your tight entrance, stretching you further than you could with your own. Despite the pain, a soft moan escaped your lips involuntarily.

"Now, beg me to cum, you needy bitch in heat," he commanded gruffly, his tone harsh yet somehow erotic. Your mind was a mess of conflicting emotions; part of you begged for release, while another part of you wanted to defy him and deny him what he sought.

You forced yourself to focus on the burning sensation of his finger probing deeper into your sensitive core, trying hard not to move or squirm too Your your body ached everywhere from the brutal punishment you had endured thus far. "P-Please... sir... I need you to..." your voice trailed off as he thrust another finger inside you, stretching your even further.

"More, please!" you managed to croak out between gasps for air. Your hips involuntarily bucked against him, seeking more contact, more stimulation. Despite the pain, the combination of humiliation and arousal was becoming too much for you to handle.

Crewel chuckled darkly, enjoying the sight of you squirming and begging for more. Slowly, he began to move his fingers in and out of your tight entrance, teasing your sensitive spots with precise strokes. "Good," he praised again, his voice laced with malice. "Now, beg me for your orgasm properly."

Ultimately, survival instinct kicked in, and you forced out a broken plea, "Please, sir... I need to cum... Please..." your voice cracked on the last word, betraying both your desperation and submission.

His pace picked up slightly, thrusting faster and harder into your tight passageway. Your moans turned into high-pitched cries of pleasure as you neared the edge of ecstasy. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he stopped abruptly, leaving you hanging on the brink of orgasm.

"Not yet, don’t tell me you thought you would get what you want that easily, did you?" he growled, his voice cold and commanding. "You haven't earned it yet." With a final taunt, he pulled out both fingers, leaving your dripping. "Clean yourself up, mutt," he ordered harshly, before turning away from your exposed body.

You were a mess, your body trembling in pre-orgasmic bliss and frustration. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you begged him through sobs, "P-Please, sir... I'll do anything... Just let me cum!"

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Divus turned back to you, grabbing you by your hair and making you drop to your knees in front of him. Reaching down, he unfastened his pants and slid them down, revealing his massive cock, hard and throbbing with desire through his boxer. It flapped against his stomach as pulled his garment down, it was veined and pulsing with need. "Much better," he said coldly. "Now, show me how much you want it."

Swallowing thickly, you raised your head and tentatively wrapped your lips around the tip of his member, taking as much of it into your mouth as you could without gagging. Your tongue flicked out, tracing the head of his cock, seeking more sensation. You began to suck greedily, your throat stretching around his thickness.

Divus groaned, his hands grasping your hair tightly as he began to thrust his hips forward, forcing more of his cock into your willing mouth. Your gagging and choking sounds only fueled his desire further. "That's a good mutt," he praised between heavy breaths. "You take my cock so well, you filthy dog."

You struggled to breathe as he continued his brutal assault on your throat, your eyes watering from the burn in your nose and throat. Despite the pain, you relish the feeling of being completely owned by him, your body becoming nothing more than a vessel for his pleasure. You moaned around his cock, hardly able to form coherent words between the constant thrusts.

As he continued to pound into your throat, your body shook with each powerful thrust. your hands reached up, grasping at his thighs for support as you struggled to keep him in your mouth. The combination of pain and pleasure was overwhelming, causing your mind to spiral into a hazy fog of desire.

Eventually, Divus slowed down, pulling out just enough for you to catch a brief moment of air before plunging back in deeper than before. "Are you ready for your reward, whore?" he growled, his voice low and menacing yet laced with promise.

Without waiting for a response, he unloaded his seed into your waiting mouth, filling it to the brim with hot, sticky semen. You gagged violently, struggling to swallow every drop, your eyes watering from the intensity of the sensation.

He held your head in place until his orgasm subsided, then pulled out, leaving your filled with his essence.

Your vision spun as you coughed and gagged, your body still trembling from the intense asphyxiation. Slowly, you felt your body being raised, finding yourself laying on Divus's desk, your legs folded and spread wide open, exposing your wet and swollen folds to his hungry mouth. Before you good connect 1 and 2 together, he was already between your legs, his tongue darting out to trace along your dripping entrance.

"Oh sevens..." you whimpered, arching your hips upwards, begging for more contact. Pulling away slightly, he teased your sensitive flesh with light touches before finally plunging his tongue deep inside your core, sucking and lapping at your juices voraciously. His fingers found your clit, pinching and rubbing it harshly, eliciting another moan of pleasure mixed with pain.

Your body trembled on the verge of orgasm once more, as he continued to torture your sensitive spots. Your nails scratched at the desk to avoid grabbing his head, you were sure you would get reprimanded for it, the wood was left with white lines shaky lines on it. "P-Please, sir... I need you to—!" you managed to choke out between gasps for air before you was cut off by a powerful moan.

Divus pulled away from your dripping folds, his face covered in your juices. "Mhm is that so," he growled, his voice dark and menacing. "Sadly for you, I don’t feel like letting you climax quite yet, you greedy pup." He teased.

Your body shook with frustration and need, your entire being aching for release. "P-Please... sir..." you begged pathetically, your voice barely more than a whimper. Hips bucking upwards, seeking more contact, more stimulation.

For what felt like a millennium, he continued to tease your sensitive spots, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy only to pull away just when you thought you could bear no more. Sweat trickled down your back, staining the cool surface of his desk beneath you.

Finally, feeling that it was enough, Divus thrust two fingers back inside your dripping entrance, simultaneously rubbing your swollen clit with his thumb. “Now cum.”

The combination of sensations was too much for you to handle, and you cried out in pure bliss as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure washed over your. Your pussy contracted tightly around his fingers, cumming so hard to be able to see stars.

Smiling down at you, he gave your cunt a small peck. Crewel smirked cruelly yet something sweet behind his eyes. "Seems like you’re beginning to learn your place well, pup," he said before moving closer again, his lips brushing against yours roughly. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, claiming ownership over your mouth once more, as well as your mind. He tongues wrestled violently, your saliva mixing together in a sickening dance, tasting each other on the other’s tongue.

After breaking the kiss, he stood up straight, looking down at you battered form with satisfaction. "Now, go home and get yourself cleaned up. We're finished for today." With that command, he help her up and walk her out of the school building, trying to avoid anything prying eyes. At her professor was kind enough to accompany her out, but she was on her when it came to walking home.

“See you on Saturday in my classroom, Miss. Y/n” was all he said as he turned and left for school once more. Leaving you alone to recover from the brutal punishment she had endured.

You only replied by a weak “See you sir”, but only when arrive at your door front did it click ‘Wait we don’t have class on the weekends, does that mean��‘

Thanks anon for requesting!

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elihermit · 1 month ago

Text

let’s ruin the friendship

— part one

pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!reader

summary: 118 throws a party for their station. You started working there 3 months ago and already feel like a part of the family. Buck caught feelings for you, but still need to confess them. How will the weekend end?

word count: 1,5k

author’s note: i’m actually obsessed with this fic🧘🏻‍♀️ hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it

p.s. i see all your requests, i’m in the process of writing them🫧

Malibu. You're sitting by the ocean and looking at the sky. You take a deep breath and feel your lungs fill with sea air, this real sea smell. The wind blows your hair, the warm sand tickles your toes and your head is free of thoughts.

118 decided to make a party for your station and you rented a house in Malibu on the Pacific Ocean. Three days of rest and fun with friends, what could be better?

And you needed it. You've been working at 118 for three months now and it's really a dream job. But because you're still new to this: it's hard, demanding and emotional at times. So getting out of this for a couple of days sounded very tempting.

The whole 118 team received you very warmly. Bobby is the best captain you could ask for. He literally became your second dad, mentor and wise friend. He taught you to take any difficulty as a valuable lesson that will lead you to a better version of yourself. Hen, Chimney and Eddie have become a resource of light. You never thought that colleagues at work could become family, but they showed you this. They are always happy to see you in their homes, put a smile on your face every shift and support you when something gets too much.

And Buck. You chuckled and admitted that you fell for him. You're not usually the type to get attached to people quickly. Honestly, you don't even know if you ever really loved. And it was Evan who made you feel things you'd never felt before. Butterflies in your stomach, counting the minutes before your shift starts to see him, “accidental” touches, stolen glances and a blush on your cheeks when he compliments you.

You looked up at the sky once more, where the stars were shining. Your dress was covered in sand, but you didn't care, because it was those moments that gave you a sense of carelessness. You were the very first to arrive at the house that you all rented and realized that this was a great opportunity to be alone with yourself. It was just you and the ocean.

“You're early as always.” — of course it was Buck. You chuckled to yourself and weren't even surprised that it was him. It's like he always appears when you think about him.

“Yeah, I didn't really calculate the time right and got here without traffic jams.”

You felt Buck sit down next to you on the sand and you both looked out into the boundless ocean.

“Aren't you afraid to get your pants dirty?”

“I wouldn't have become a firefighter if I was afraid of that. Plus, I'm willing to get my pants dirty if it means sitting in peace and quiet next to you.”

The next day went better than you imagined. You were all swimming, barbecuing, making cocktails, chatting and laughing a lot. Adults, but behaved like children, and this is exactly what everyone needed — to forget about adult responsibilities for a while and give themselves up to impulsive desires.

The day was nearing sunset and you split up. Men were playing volleyball, women were sitting by the pool with glasses of wine.

“If such a weekend becomes a tradition at your station, then I will have to change my place of work.” — Karen said and sipped her wine.

“Oh honey, we don’t have to. We are the wives of firefighters, we will always have the privilege for such parties.” — Athena said, doing a little dance.

Everyone laughed and agreed with this statement. You adored the women around you: strong, beautiful, and knowing how to have fun, even working such hard jobs.

“So (Y/N), any plans on making this official?” — Hen raised her eyebrows, pointing at you.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on girl, we all see how you and Buck literally devour each other with eyes.”

“We’re just friends.”

You close your eyes, pull on your sunglasses and lie down on a beach chair. You do everything so that no one sees how your cheeks started to turn red.

“Yeah, I'm sure that friends dance in each other's arms, go to places for couples in the evenings and make local jokes that no one else understands.” — Maddie came back to the pool and put another cocktail in front of you. “It’s from Buck by the way, he said he made it just how you like it.” — she highlighted the last words and looked at you meaningfully before laughing.

“Okay you all, I don't recall using the services of a matchmaker, so I’m going to swim.” — you said, standing from your beach chair. “Anyone wants to go with me?”

“Hell yeah.”

You hear Buck's voice behind you and turn to him.

“Where did you come from?”

“I was on my way to grab some water, but swimming sounds more tempting.”

You took a towel and you went for a swim together.

“Okay, guys, I'm taking bets on whether they kiss now or not.” — Hen had a feeling that after this swim there will be one more couple on their station.

You and Evan came to the ocean and stopped at the shore. You have a feeling of deja vu, because exactly 24 hours ago you were sitting in the same place. The sun was almost below the horizon, it was getting darker and you liked it, there was always something magical about swimming at night.

“I would very much appreciate it if you stayed by my side, because rescuing you wasn’t on my bucket list today.”

“Then you’ll have to catch me, Buckley.”

You didn't wait a second and ran into the water. The warm water caressed your body, the sounds of the waves stupefied your head, the lowering sun left tempting reflections on your body.

You began to swim slowly and enjoy how the water relaxes your muscles and the taste of salt envelops your lips. In a second you were in strong hands.

“Got ya.” — Buck's warm breath was on your ear and reflexively you wrapped your legs around his torso.

“I don't think you gave me a chance to break away from you.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to.”

“How is it fair then?”

“It’s not, but it’s also unfair how you try to slide away from me every time.”

You looked into Evan's eyes and froze. You never tried to run away from him, you just didn't know if your feelings were mutual. And confessing your feelings is like going through fire for you, even though you do it almost every day. And it's still dangerous and scary.

His lips were two centimeters from yours and you fought with every part of your body not to succumb to temptation.

“I was just waiting for you to stop me from running away.”

“Let’s ruin the friendship.”

And he kissed you. A thousand fireworks exploded in your chest and your heart started pounding faster. You ran your hands through his hair, and he pulled you closer to him. You have to say that there was nothing innocent about that kiss. But it wasn't lust either. It was sensual, intimate, mixed with a long desire to be with each other.

You parted your lips and let his tongue enter inside, dancing with your tongue in unison. Buck put his hands on your hips and squeezed them, a soft moan escaped from your lips. Desire and need have awakened in the bottom of your stomach.

“I don’t think we need to give such a performance to our friends.” — even though you didn’t care right now, you knew it would be quite embarrassing after.

“You’re probably right, but I've been waiting for this since the first time I saw you.”

“You’re definitely a keeper.”

“I can’t keep denying every minute I think of you. I need to call you mine.”

“Claim me yours.”

And just like that, he kissed you again. This time gently and with all the love he had. You could both feel the invisible strings that intertwine your hearts and lives.

The feelings that flared up no longer frightened, but forced him to look into the future without doubt. Evan has been burned in a relationship so many times, but now he sees clearly — life without you is a thousand times more destructive.

You've been imagining events for so long that could lead to the beginning of your relationship, and none of them were the way you're experiencing now. You're with Buck in the ocean, your bodies are pressed against each other and you can't break the kiss because you can't get enough.

“Fuck, you’re all I ever dreamed of.” — Buck broke the kiss and said it into your lips.

You were walking back to the house and holding hands. What's the point of hiding that you're a couple now if everyone's been waiting for this?

You and Buck walked past the pool giggling and went into the house to change your clothes and most likely it won't end there.

“Okay, ladies, each of you now owns me 10 dollars.” — sipping from her glass, Hen knew she would win this bet.

Let me know if you want part 2 🫧

#911 abc #911 fanfic #911 fic #911 imagine #911 x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley x fem!reader #evan buck buckely #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley x you #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #eddie diaz #eddie diaz imagine #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz x you #evan buckley fluff #911 x you

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verysium · 11 months ago

Note

if you had to associate a city from the world w any bllk character of your liking which cities with who and why? sorry for the odd question lmao it just crossed my mind. love ur works btw!💗

i love unconventional questions like these cus then i have to really think hard to come up with a good answer. i will admit i am slightly biased because i feel that the current teams they play for already represent them well, so some of these might be a repeat. also i am not that well-travelled (wish i could if i had the money), so i'm merely going off the reputed description of each city.

rin would be paris. i know it sounds unoriginal, but pxg rin has already grown 10x prettier than he was during the u-20 arc, so something in that city air must be doing him right. also i feel like he just dresses like a stereotypical european lol. the winter coat and scarf combo plus the perpetual scowl on his face. he probably walks super quickly down the metro too. i have this fic in the drafts where rin and reader meet up at his shitty parisian apartment and eat hotpot and smoke cigs on a random sidewalk in winter. rin is also high class. it just comes naturally to him. like if u ever take a walk near place charles de gaulle (the arc de triomphe area), there's this quiet luxury that is prominent in the fancy hotels and brand stores that make up the vicinity. even better if u go during christmas time because they have these intricately detailed light fixtures. i remember seeing this one cartier store with a giant glittering jaguar on the front. not to mention their swarovski christmas tree. rin's like that. i feel like in a few years once he goes fully professional, the media would go wild over his poise and refined grace. he just has that subtly enticing aura, like a silent glamour.

sae would be madrid. not just because it's canon but also because i feel like the city is just the polar opposite of him. madrid is one of the hottest cities in europe, and sae's just perpetually cold. even in the literal sense, i feel like he would have cold hands and feet too. if u see those wes anderson style travel commercials of madrid, it's always some variation of pastel houses, sunshine, and bikini beaches. that is exactly what sae is not like. i also chose this for...*ahem* spoiler reasons in my upcoming fic chapter which i'm not going to delve too much into. but the gist is that the contrast is why sae fits so well in madrid and also why it's a bit tragic to see how drastically he has to change in order to adapt to a new environment. if not spain, i feel like he'd still end up somewhere with a large coastline because of how fundamental the sea is to him throughout his childhood. it's sort of his safe space. if i had the choice to assign two cities, i'd also include his hometown of kamakura since he seems like the type to be secretly sentimental. i picture sae as someone who values his roots even though he constantly says he has bigger and better places to be. like he would tell everyone that he was born in the wrong country but then proceed to sigh melodramatically whenever he actually misses home.

kaiser is a weird mix of munich, new york, and las vegas. i chose munich largely because of his german roots. i also picture him as bavarian. new york and las vegas are mostly attributed to the duality of his character. when we first see kaiser, he's this figure of flamboyance. his entrance was hands-down the most theatrically dramatic one, and there are theatre motifs throughout his dialogue (eg. roles on a stage, rejecting yoichi's script/play). i feel like this would fit well with the extravagant nightlife las vegas is known for and, of course, broadway in NYC. furthermore, kaiser is this prime example of clawing your way to the top. he seems charismatic and welcoming at first, but then we see his internal motives and well...it's something. he is cutthroat when it comes to competition, and he's not afraid of using others in his ascent to the top. i mean...he literally holds people by the hair as if they're mere objects. that seems pretty ruthless and machiavellian to me. i doubt he even humanizes any of his rivals; rather, he views them as opponents to his ideology. there's also a reason why they say if you make it in new york, you can make it anywhere. there's a highly individualistic mindset, and if you really want something, the resources are there for you to achieve it. kaiser is like that in the sense he is willing to put his all into getting something he desires, even up to an obsessive degree.

yukimiya is london. like u know what taylor swift said about the english? that's yukimiya for you. he treats his mother right, sleeps 8 hours a day, and said his first love was when his friend's 16-year-old sister kissed him on the forehead. he cannot be any more perfect. not to mention he's a literal model. like hello? IMG is calling.

shidou is somewhere in ohio. i'm not going to elaborate. the man's just weird.

isagi is somewhere rural. idk why but he strikes me as a country boy. probably helps his parents on the rice farm and bikes long distances to school. i found a lot of parallels between him and hinata shoyo from haikyu mostly because they're both from a smaller, lesser known neighborhood, have a pretty ordinary childhood, and become inspired by this influential role model. my secondary reason is just that isagi doesn't seem like he'd even be familiar with the urban landscape. he's lived his life in humble origins, so i think there might be some culture shock once he actually gets to the city. like...boy was genuinely amazed when he entered that blue lock facility. never seen so much high-end equipment and technology in his life.

ego lives in a sewer. i cannot tell u his precise location just that he probably hasn't washed his hair in 45 days and is still surviving off processed ramen noodles. please pray for him.

barou is los angeles and if not socal, then he's from the bay area. i took one good look at his artificially dyed red hair and the answer was clear. he is not immune to trends guys. it's almost embarrassing. furthermore, i think the general silicon valley area is known to be hardworking, and that encapsulates barou pretty well. he is disciplined to the core, and he knows that success is not going to come to him without him actively trying to reach it. he's also...(let's be real guys)...just a teensy weensy bit arrogant. he calls himself a king, as in a literal monarch. and he says this in the most serious tone too. now he rightfully earned that title, but it doesn't erase the secondhand cringe i felt from reading that dialogue LOL.

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supercriminalbean · 1 year ago

Note

Hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request Hotch x Male reader, the team get a case that leads back to an old unsolved case of a group of children going missing and start showing up dead at different ages from sever injuries from fighting(?)

Reader is part of the bau but has alot of secrets to hide including being one of the younger children that went missing and managed to escape but not without physical and emotional scars (being forced to play a cruel game of survival of the fittest for the entertainment of the Unsub who streamed the gruesome cruelty)

Maybe the unsub captures reader cause he was the one that got away and the team start to peice together reader was one of the missing kids by how fast reader state of mind went to a primal kill or die (like readers afraid he'll die there and no one will ever find him or know or care so when they do he's relived and breaks down but another part of him think he doesn't deserve it cause of what he's done to survive)

Hotch being there for reader

FIGHT CLUB

Aaron Hotchner x Male!Reader.

Summary: The reader is trying to find the group that ruin his life, but keeping it a secret from his team is differcult when he has to ask them for help.

Warning: Dark fic. Blood, fighting, death, abuse, kidnapping, swearing, drugs, unsub violence, bad eatting habits, bad self care, scars, angst. This whole fic is just dark and strange the ask it self is amazing and may help you know if this is something you can handle. (Any other warnings let me know xx)

Words: 9.4k

A/N: Hiiii! Omg this ask 😍😍 I love you!! I had to split this into a couple different parts due to I'm up to 12k words and got so much more i wanna add to it right now. Next part will be posted next week (hopefully!!) I just couldn't wait to post this. I did change it a little and hope this is what you were after. 🖤🖤 thank you for the request my love.

Part two. Part three. Part four.

Another body has shown up, and if you're right another kid will go missing in just a couple hours a few towns over from the latest body. You know it's just a matter of time as you read the article, one that barely has any information of the latest victim found, another teen boy. While the article prints out you give the detective on the case a call, you know you shouldn't, you should just let this go until your team is called in properly. But hey, there is no harm in asking innocent questions, is there?

“Hello, this is Detective Rose,” An older man answers.

“Hello Detective, I'm with the FBI, SSA agent (Y/L) from the Bau unit” Your voice comes out sharp as you hold back the emotions swirling in your mind. If this is the group you believe it is, you're going to have to bring your team in, but no way could they know just how long you have been looking for them.

“Oh Agent, how can I help?” The man's voice is filled with confusion.

“I heard you found a body of a teenage boy, I read in the report he was badly injured and a

John doe, look I think he might be connected to a case I'm working and I need you to send me all the information and photos of this boy you have as soon as you can” You don’t have time to explain to him, nor the patience.

“Case, but there's only one body?” There's a small arrogance laying under his tone as he speaks his next words. “Plus he seems to be a runaway, he doesn’t seem like the type anyone would be after”

“Excuse me” You can’t help but sneer into the phone, anger filling you up. “How dare you, he is a child, someone has to be missing him and even if not he deserves justice, so I figure you better send me what I asked for before I called your boss” Venom seems to drip from your words as your grip the phone like your life depends on it. Silence fills the other end and your patience seems to dry up, opening your mouth to send him another order when he finally speaks up again.

“Of course we don’t need that, files and photos have been sent, reach out again if I —” You hang up before he finishes speaking, you don’t need anything more from him.

~~~

Sitting on your couch, your mind spinning as you go through the new photos of the crime scene you have received. This is it, this is them, no doubt about it. He fits the victimology, he’s the right age, fit and covered in so many cuts and bruises it’s impossible to see his face. What makes your heart drop the most is the cut on his left forearm, two other previous victims also had it. You know how they got it, hell you got one quite similar to it. Which means you know where they are being kept and where they are going next which means it's time to bring your team in. Grabbing the pile of older files, ones that you have collected over the years, pulling the top few files off the top for the team to see, placing the older ones at the bottom of your to go bag. You can’t let your team know just how long you have been investigating this case. If you do things could unravel and your past could be exposed, the one thing that could never happen, because if it does you might not have a job any more.

Your phone starts dinging, your alarm going off. Great you pulled another all nighter, something you have been warned against many times in the past month.

~~~

Hotch has been on your ass a lot lately about looking after yourself, he’s the only one who can tell when you're struggling. Maybe that's why you're having a hard time figuring out how to bring this case to him. You know he’s going to know this isn’t just a regular case for you, you might be good at hiding your personal life and emotions from the team but that doesn’t include Aaron. You're not sure how you grew close to your boss, you two have hangout, outside of work many times, even including getting to know Jack and spending many weekends watching his soccer games, and of course getting ice cream afterwards as a reward. Somehow Aaron managed to get you to join them both for movie nights and your friendship has never been stronger than that night. But then you had to go and ruin it, pulling yourself away from him, when things started feeling real. You started feeling like you belong and not just with him, but with the team you're surrounded by. Belonging somewhere is something you have never felt before and it's terrifying, so you pull away from them all. Space is a good thing plus there were only a few reasons you took this job a few years ago and you need to remember that.

~~~

You're the first one at the office that morning, even beating Hotch to the office for once. You wait at your desk, your desk is different from the others. They all have personal items on their desk, things that make their desk seem more welcoming and comforting. Except yours, its fill of paperwork and a small fake desk plant that Garcia placed there one day that you just didn’t have the heart to move. Aaron arrives not long after you. Aaron stops by the glass door when he spots you, and he’s glad you're facing the other way so he can just watch you for a moment. He can’t help but feel something is wrong, the last few weeks you have been more off than normal. You're someone who keeps to themself and he knows that, maybe that's why he was surprised when you were spending a lot of your time with him and Jack. Not that he minded at all, he loves spending time with you, maybe more than a boss should but he shouldn’t be blamed when it comes to you, you're different. But when he was spending time with you, he managed to figure out your tell, and how you go inside your own mind when things aren’t right. Maybe that's why, even when you started putting more distance between you both, he couldn't help but remind you to get some sleep or remind you to eat, the two things you always seem to forget about. Aaron lets out a small breath, preparing himself for whatever the reason is that you're the first one here. The glass doors open and within a second you're spinning around in your chair, and the first thing Aaron notices is the files in your hands and then the bags underneath your determined eyes.

“Good Morning Hotch” Your voice is full of energy, which he can only put down to the empty coffee cup beside you.

“Morning, you’re here early” Aaron stares at you questionably, raising his eyebrow when you don’t respond. “Is there a reason why?”

“I need to talk to you, it's important” You jump up quickly, meeting him in the middle of the room.

“Alright, my office then” He bites back a sigh as you nod enthusiastically, climbing up the stairs before him. He can’t help himself but compare you to a puppy, one who uses up all their energy but still refuses to back down when it's time to rest. He’s waiting for you to burn out, it may have been three years with you on the team, but he can’t help but wait for you to break. He doesn’t understand how anyone could keep going at the pace you do without any consequences.

~~~

You both enter his office, Aaron places his bag down before taking a seat at his desk, signalling you to do the same, so you do.

“Okay so I found—” You can’t help but start, holding your own homemade files,your leg bouncing as you speak.

“Stop” Hotch holds his hand up to silence you, dread fills your eyes as you do. “Did you sleep last night?” Accusation dripping from his words, his stern stare digging straight into your sole, making a strange shiver roll down your spine.

“That's not important” The confidence seems to slip by as he stares at you longer, you can’t help but sink in your chair, the uncomfortableness just making you want to run.

“But it is, I need to know my agents are looking after themself” Aaron holds back the proper lectures he wants to give you. Sometimes he wonders how you managed to become a full functioning adult with the way you treat your body, running yourself so low he wonders how you're alive at all.

“I look after myself perfectly fine Aaron” You have to physically bite your tongue to hold back the taunt you want to say instead, but you need him to listen to you instead.

“Do you, because you didn’t sleep last night, and can you even tell me the last time you ate something homemade?”

“Last night” Smirking cockily at him, you indeed did make something last night so he can suck it.

“It doesn’t count if it was your usual cheese on toast” Aaron smirks as yours slowly disappears.

“Okay, uncalled for Hotch” Grumbling as you place the files down before crossing your arms. “Look I get it, I need to improve, but I need your help on something much more important, please?” Your mask starts dropping, the fear and doubtfulness visible for just a few seconds, before you pull yourself together again, your face hardening up again.

~~~

“Tell me what this is?” Hotch reaches for the files, the pile alot bigger than he first thought it was.

“Someone is kidnapping teenages all over the country, and just hours surrounded the kidnapping another teenage is found dead a few towns over from the new victim, I have found about seven different cases over the course of 18 months so far, but the dead victims are never the ones from the recent kidnappings, they look older almost like they could have been kidnapped years prior maybe, they all have the same marks all over their body, the victimology is the same” You take a deep breath as Hotch flicks throughs the file. “The ones being taken are either from abusive households or already living on the street, they aim for the ones who are strong but not confident, they seem to find the quiet ones are go after them, but they are quick, they don’t leave much room for the kids to escape, they move fast” Your words seem to run from your mouth, the rush to get out of your mind and into Aarons ear makes you forget to breathe. The urgency is great and he just doesn't understand.

“You keep saying they” Hotch looks up the files, his boss face activated, his lips pursed together. His eyes burn into you once more, you have to do everything in your power to not physically respond to that call out, unfortunately your body straightens up, your throat clutching.

“I believe it has to be at least two unsubs if not more, and one of them could possibly be a woman” You take a deeper breath as your heart starts to pace, your mind screaming at you to stop as Aaron's eyes narrow more.

“And why do you think that?”

“Because they're fast, they move around the country, and according to the autopsy the kids are well nutritious, they cause of death is mainly blood lose, or hits to the head, I think—-” You quickly cut yourself off. No you can’t say that, you can’t let that detail out quite yet, he won’t understand, no one will understand not yet. “I think they must be keeping them somewhere safe before they dispose of them” You change the words that almost slip out quickly, but not fast enough for Hotch to not notice. Hotch watches you closely as you grow quiet, waiting for his response. Your leg bouncing as your nails dig into your arms, your eyes begging him to say something, just anything.

“What do you think they are doing to them if they are keeping them for so long then?” His question is innocent enough, but oh lord. Your stomach is now on fire, your eyes darken with anger as you speak.

“Training them to fight each other, fight to the death and then they keep the strong ones for who knows what” Oh but you know, oh you know too well what they are keeping them for and that makes you want to be sick.

~~~

Silence fills the office as he stares at you, the anger that fills your eyes is something he hasn’t seen before, and he has seen you angry. But this is different, this is almost a murderous glaze in your eyes, something that makes Aaron uncomfortable.

He knows what he has to do, even if he doesn’t like it.

“How long have you been investigating this, how did you manage to get all of this information?” His voice is low as he speaks, his words filling with disappointment as he speaks.

“A few months” A lie, you both know that. But Aaron knows better than to question that right now, the can of worms that could open could be too hard to close.

“Why are you just bringing this to me now?” His voice raises, the disappointment sweeping out. “You should of came to me as soon as you saw a pattern forming”

“I know I should have, but I wanted to see if I was right, maybe see if I could find any clues before bringing the team into a goose chase” You try to reason with him, gulping as if you know what you have to say. “I think I found them, and if I'm right another person was taken last night and I have a feeling that another body will be found near the state line of Nebraska and Wyoming, we need to take this case, we need to save them” A shaky breath leaves you as you lean forward, placing your hands on the desk, your eyes pleading.

“Aar, please trust me on this” Gulping thickly as you see his eye flash with something unreadable as you say his old nickname, one you haven’t used in months.

“I need to make a few phone calls” He looks away from you as he picks up the phone. Standing up you smile slightly at him, thanking him quietly as you make your way out.

~~~

The team soon arrives within the hour, where hotch is up in his office on the phone the whole time. Your body is on edge, sipping on your third cup of coffee as your mind runs. The team all stood around, talking and laughing as they usually do. Of course they try to get you to join in, but with one glance at you, they know this morning is not the time to get you to join in with them. It's Dave that talks to you this morning, his eyes couldn’t help but keep drifting to you as the team standing around teasing Reid and his crosswords.

“Hey kiddo” Dave stands in front of you, pulling you from your mind, and mainly your eyes off Aarons offices.

“Ah, Morning Sir” Forcing a small smile as you do your best to focus on him, and not whatever conversation is going on inside the office right now.

“How many times have I told you Rossi, or Dave is fine? '' He smile’s down at you, hating to see the bags underneath your eyes, or the fresh scratch mask around your wrist. You wear long sleeves half the time, but that doesn’t stop the team from seeing the way your scratch at your arms when you get overwhelmed.

“Right sorry” Pushing a small chuckle out, as you give him a weak smile. “My bad”

“It's okay, are you doing alright?” Rossi looks down at you worriedly, you weren’t the most talkative but right now you don’t even seem to know how to be your regular self.

“Fine si– Rossi” Your body tenses at the slip up, your eyes flicker back up to Aaron's office.

“Alright, if you ever need to talk kiddo you know I'm around” He smiles at you, one that's full of concern. A part of him wants to reach out, place a hand on your shoulder so you get the message, but he knows it won’t work with you. You don’t react well to physical touch, you jump when someone gets too close. The team remembers the first time Garica tried to give you a hug, you jumped back, hiding behind Morgan who was closest to you in that moment. She touched your shoulders, and you have never moved so fast, your body tensing your hands rolling into fist. You apologised as soon as you calmed down, you gave them no reasoning as to why. But they understood and no one has tried to touch you since, they even became your human shields when random people would try to hug you as a thank you. You were extremely grateful for that, it's been like that for three years now and still no one asks you why and you owe them so much for that.

~~~

Hotch finally emerges from his office after another hour, a sour look plastered across his face, and when you catch his eyes you know why. They found the body.

“We got a case” Hotch calls out to his team, everyone's head shoots up to him. A deep unnerving tension seems to fill the room due to the seriousness on his face, and the way his eyes never leave yours. The air seems to leave your lungs as you stand up, grabbing your notebook off your desk before following the team into the conference room. Hotch waits by the door as the team walks in, placing his hand up in front of you to stop you.

“One moment” His voice is low as he speaks, not wishing for the team to overhear.

“We found two bodies, one of them is Jason Ducan” Aaron speaks softly, as he watches your face flicker with recognition at that name.

“They found a body” You stare up at him, your eyes now empty of emotions, putting them on the backboard as you prepare for this case.

“Jason Ducan, he was my first missing kid when I worked here” Your breathing hitches as fear flashes through your mind, doing your best to keep your poker face on. Do they know where you work, have they been keeping tabs on you for the last three years? Or maybe they never stop keeping tabs on you.

“He doesn’t fit the profile, he was seven, from a good family. He was too young there is no way they would take someone from a family like that, it would be too difficult” Your mind spins as you speak, your words speeding up, slipping over each other in a hurry. Hotch hates the far away look that creeps into your eyes, almost more than he hates the numbness that dominates inside you. Taking a deep breath, hoping he doesn’t make it worse, Aaron slowly reaches out to you, placing his hand gently on your shoulder. You flinch sharply, your eyes narrowing on his hand, on his familiar touch. Aaron is the only one allowed to touch you, and only at certain times, only when you're ready for it, and normally you welcome his touch. Today is not the day you welcome it, his touch feels like fire, it sends painful memories of your past through your mind.

“Don’t” Your voice is low and full of danger, a shaky breath follows as he doesnt let go immediately.

“You need to tell me if this case gets too much, okay” Aaron words hold no judgement as he lets you go and just like he expected you stroll straight past him, anger radiating off you, as you fall into the chair beside Morgan.

~~~

Hotch starts the briefing, grabbing the team's attention with your homemade files. He informs them of everything you had told him that morning, minus your theories.

“So you made these files?” It was Morgan who asked the question. The one thing that had confused the whole team, because this screamed to them as an off the books case, something Hotch would never do.

“No I did” You speak up, leaning forward. You almost feel bored as Hotch gives the team the basic information, information you have been sitting on for many years. Everyone's heads turn straight to you, curiosity and surprised looks all over them. The quiet one who normally seems to keep to themself, is investigating a crime alone, and somehow convince Hotch to make it a real case. Oh you could feel the questions and doubt spreading throughout the room, and all you do is smirk at them as you lean forward.

“I didn’t think much of it at first, but something didn’t feel right so once I saw a second body drop in the same way. I started investigating a bit more, but I was always weeks behind, so in my time of hoping for new leads I went back and searched months back trying to find anything” You give them a brief explanation, making sure you don’t make eye contact with anyone, not needing to lose your nerve right now. The room stays quiet, giving you the confidence to keep talking, so taking a deep calming breath you continue.

“After I got an alert last night of a kid going missing, I knew it was them. Conor Blue, he fits the description that the unsubs go after. He’s between the age of Nine and fourteen, he came from an abusive household and he’s into sports which isn’t always a go to, but something I see they prefer” You speak slower than this morning, remembering to breathe as you do. Hotch might be hard to convince, but making sure the whole team has your back on this case, is something you didn’t think through. You needed their help, because without the team, you can’t get close enough to get rid of them for good.

“How long have you been looking into this?” Emily asks, looking over at you with concern. She can see ghosts in your eyes, and whatever answer you give her, she’s not going to believe you.

“About four months” Your lie is solided, you know that, you made sure all the files you gave them only look that old. Even if they have older information inside you can say it's from research.

“He came to me this morning, and I have been on the phone with a few detectives” Aaron glances at you as he says that, your stomach drops. He knows you used your FBI statues to gather information you weren’t supposed to have, opps. “And It seems to be happening all over the country, so we need to make a fast move on this case, two new bodies were discovered this morning” Hotch continues, the team watches you instead of Hotch. They all notice the tense look on your face, the way your eyes darken, your lips tightening as a way to stop yourself from interrupting the boss. Photos pop up on the screen as Hotch keeps speaking, your eyes land on the photos, your stomach twisting. Jason laid in the dirt, his body covered in bruises and blood, a hopeless look in his eyes. But what makes your mind ache is the body laying beside the ten year old boy. A 20 year old guy. He looks strong, someone who you know could only live that long in that place, if they were extremely strong and brave. The marks around his neck send a shiver down your body, your stomach swooshes so much you think you're going to be ill. He’s the only one that ages with that mark, and there is only one guy who would do that. He’s still there, and that's all your fault.

~~~

“So (Y/n), any theories?” Rossi the one to ask you, his eyes on the notebook that you're clutching tightly.

“Quite a few” You glance up at Hotch, silently asking for permission to take over, he gives a quick nod and with that it's your turn. “It's a team, I want to say at least two older ones that have been doing this for many, many years, and if anyone has lasted long enough they would train them to join them, using them to find more opposition. They need a good routine of fighters, more opportunity for them to grow” You speak in a matter of fact, your fingers tapping away at the table.

“What makes you think they are fighting each other?” JJ glances at you from the photos.

“Easy, look at them, there is only one way someone can get that many bruises and cuts on them. Also not to mention the autopsy results mention multiple broken bones that have healed, internal bleeding due to multiple blunt force trauma” Your not sure why but air soon becomes harder to inhale, it feels thick and the room starts heating up. Everyones eyes are on you, but you can’t look at them so you're focusing on the files in front of you instead. “Also look at their hands, they aren’t just defensive wounds, they fit back, also they are strong, it's like they train them. Plus they are well nourished so I guess someone is looking after them, my guess is a women is one of our unsubs”

“That’s one hell of a theory” Morgan says, his eyes burning into you. His gut is full of distrust when it comes to you with this case, something doesn't seem right.

“I know, but have a look and you will see why I’m right, also this case is nothing like we are use to, I have many theories and most of them are strange but, you can see why” You speak from gritting teeth, your hand now gripping the table in front of you.

“We are going to Nebraska, wheels up in thirty” Aaron eyes stay on you as you zoom out of the room, dying for some fresh air.

~~~

“Jupiter wake up” Her viciouses voice fills your ears, as a piercing pain invades your side. A sharp hiss slips through your lips as your eyes shoot open, your body shooting up into a sitting position, pushing the thin blanket to the side. Inside you feel numb, nothing inside you is alive anymore, years of training has made you the perfect soldier.

“Morning Ma’am” Your voice is emotionless, your eyes are dead as you stand up looking up at her. Keeping your hands behind you, your head slightly bent.

“We have a new comer, you are to welcome them this morning, I don’t care if they live or die just clean up your mess” Her voice is assertive, a cunning look on her face as she leads you down the hall and past the other trainee soldiers. Some of them are still asleep, most of them without blankets, only winners get comfort items. You stroll past the training room where your fellow soldiers are lifting weights before being allowed to eat. You glance at them a part of you wishing you could join them, but that's not your task this morning. Instead you get to fight, and you get to choose the outcome, oh you do enjoy these fights. You always win, and even better, it doesn’t take much effort. Ma’am leads you to the empty swimming pool, where most fights to the death take place. As you walk over to the edge you spot your opponent, he looks small and extremely frightened, barely a challenge. He’s already got blood over his face as he hides on the corner of the pool, the area where the bloodstains seem to be less. A small chuckle leaves you as you check him out, the thoughts of destroying him winding you up. Licking your lips softly before glancing over at Ma’am waiting for permission to go down.

“Go on, but try and make it fair” She laughs softly, enjoying the murderous gaze in your eyes. In a matter of seconds you're jumping into the pool, smirking darkly as you make your way over to him. The boy looks to be about 14 or 15, a couple years or so younger than you. He looks up at you, a confused and scared look plastered over his face, it grows when you stop a few metres back from him.

“Y you… you're alive” His whisper is barely audible, but it makes you freeze. That voice, you know that voice, how?

“Come here, now” You growl at him, gritting your teeth as you stare into his eyes.

“I thought you died (Y/n)” He takes a small step forward staring at you with hope. Oh how wrong that looks for a place like this.

“That's not my name” You spit at him, a horrible shiver dripping down your spine.

“Yes it is” He speaks more confidently as he steps closer. “Your name is (Y/n), we used to be friends” That name, why do you know that name, it's wrong, it's so wrong.

“I don’t know you” You sneer at him, taking a step towards him, dangour radiating off you.

“Yes you do, we used to be best friends, (Y/n) please you have to remember me, its Ryan” He begs you to remember. You freeze, Ryan. You know a Ryan, but he’s younger than him, Ryan was ten last time you saw him. But this can’t be him, because that part of your life is long gone, and who the hell does this guy think he is turning up claiming to be a part of that time. You react quickly with a sharp growl escaping you as you launch yourself on him.

“I don’t know you!” You scream as you grab him by his neck, and punch him repeatedly with your other hand. You're a lot stronger than him, using all your strength to pound into him. You let go of his neck, he falls forward with a gasp, begging you to stop but it falls on deaf ears. You knee him in the stomach as he falls forward, grabbing his hair holding him in place as you let him have it.

“I don't know you” You scream as your anger explodes. “I don’t know (Y/n)!” You shove him into the wall, his body slides down, so you kick him, as you scream repeatedly. “I don't know Ryan” You keep screaming, blood starts to pile around him, as you lose control. “I don’t know you!”

~~~

“I don’t know you!” A scream invades the quietness of the jet. Everyone's head turns towards the scream full of pain, landing on you. You're asleep at the back of the jet, shaking violently with tears streaming down your face. Aaron is up in a matter of seconds, running quickly towards you. The team stays quiet, letting Hotch take control of this situation. He drops to his knees beside you, small whimpers and cries leaves you as you stay dead asleep.

“(Y/n), wake up” He places his hand firmly on your arm, giving you a rough shake. But nothing, you stay asleep but your cries get louder.

(Y/n), open your eyes” Aaron shakes you again sharper and luck is on his side. Your eyes shoot open, breathing heavily as you scan your surroundings. The jet, you're on the jet, with your team. Oh shit your team, everyone is watching you, they stare at you with unreadable emotions on their faces, and you hate it. Soon you let your eyes drop down to the man beside you, fear enters you quickly, yanking away from his touch you straighten up quickly.

“Sir, I’m so sorry sir I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I am extremely sorry sir It won’t happen again” Your words fly out of you with fear, your breathing picking up, your hands shaking uncontrollably as you watch him, waiting for the punishment.

“It's okay” Aaron gulps, hating the fear you're experiencing, the panic attack that’s consuming you. “You are okay, you are safe here” Aaron speaks calmly, taking the chance to place his hand on yours, he’s grateful you don’t pull back.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep” Your voice grows quiet, your lip quivering as the adrenaline dies down.

“It's okay you're allowed to fall asleep” Aaron reassures you, his thumb running over the back of your hand smoothly.

“I am?” You look up at him hopeful, your eyes full of tears. You almost seem child-like as you ask that simple question.

“Yes you are, I only woke you because you were having a nightmare” Aaron smiles softly at you, hoping he doesn’t embarrass you as he informs you.

“Oh no” You yank away from his touch, panic filling you. You know you sleep talk occasionally, what the hell did you say?

“We all get them, its okay”

“No.. what did I say?” You stare at him with a look of horror. Aaron's face drops, he knows that look, he’s seen it almost everyday of this job. A look victims have when they open up to much of their past, scared their abusiver will come back for them.

“You didn’t say much” He tries his best to comfort you but he knows that determined look in your eyes. “You said ‘I don't know you’ ”

A small sigh leaves you as you lean your head back in relief, that's all you said then you are fine, you can recover from that. “Thank you” You force a small smile, before raising your voice, turning to look at your coworkers who all seem to be pretending not to pay attention anymore.

“Sorry for disturbing you”

“You're not disturbing us” Hotch is quick to correct you, hating to think that you would think you're a bother. “If you want to talk about it–”

“No thank you, I’m fine” You interpret him quickly, a sharp glare and turning your back to him is all the dismissal he needs.

~~~

You're in the SUV with Morgan and Rossi, heading downtown to the morgue. You sat in the back seat, reading through the Jason Ducan files, before sighing loudly and laying your head back. The two men in the front seat share some curious looks before glancing back at you.

“You alright back there” Morgan questions you, a small smile on his face.

“Not at all, this makes no sense at all” rubbing your forehead as the frustration causes another headache. “Why the hell did they take Jason Ducan three years ago he doesn’t fit the profile and they wouldn’t of dumped him like that he would of hide the body better, you would think they know not to show of the bodies we are investigating” You can’t hide the frustration and anger invading you, your hand squeezing into fist and you think back. He was a clue back then yet you were so focused on moving on you didn’t see it, this is bad.

“Maybe your profile is wrong” Dave shrugs as he speaks, as if it's a casual thing.

“My profile is not wrong!” You snap at him, the anger burning away at your chest.

“I still don’t understand your interest in this case” Derek turns around to face you, a distrustful look in his eyes, one you can’t help but return.

“Well, no one was looking into it, someone has to care. I'm sorry if that irritates you Derek” Glaring deadly at him, as his eyes widen just slightly at your comeback before turning back to the front.

“I was just asking.'' He grumbles before glancing at Dave who is staring at you through the rearview mirror, watching as your face drops as you cross your arms.

~~~

You are shown the bodies and as the doctor talks you can’t hear her, the words flying over your head as you grab some gloves and start touching the bodies. Three pairs of eyes on you, watching like a hawk as you move like lightning. Your hands travel around the older unnamed victim's neck. The dark unformed bruises with a slight cut you can tell were made with wire, your stomach spinning as you move away from it and down to his feet.

“His neck wound was made by wire” You state as you kneel down by his feet, anger flooding through you as you see the scars. They are doing it again. “Holy shit” Your words are barely audible, but Morgan catches them, his eyebrow narrowing as he watches you.

“What did you find (Y/l)” Morgan makes his way over to you, spotting fear deep inside your eyes before you quickly mask the emotion once more.

“You need to ring Garcia” You look up at him, gulping thickly. “I think they are recording them”

“What, how can you tell?” It's Rossi that asks as he walks over, joining you and Morgan at the feet of the victims.

“Look at this” You show them the bottom of the left foot of the victim, where a big L is cut into along with the name victory which looks like it has been tried to be cut out.

“Okay” Morgan looks at you puzzled. “How did you get that they recorded them from this?”

“The L, It means they lost, I bet they showed this to the camera to show them that they truly did lose this time” Maybe what you said doesn’t make sense to the profilers, but it's what they do. But they stopped, you know they stopped. You couldn’t find them on the dark web so they had to have stopped but you never relooked when the bodies started dropping again.

“You can’t know that” Morgan goes to argue with you, a hand on his arm stops him. He turns his head to see Dave shaking his head at him. Morgan stares at him stumped wanting to argue but he can read that look in Dave’s eyes, there is something more going on here.

“It makes sense, they can earn money this way and also they are sick twisted little fuckers who can find other twisted fuckers to enjoy in on their torment as well” You speak quickly as you pull your phone out, taking photos of his foot.

“Okay I guess I’ll call Penelope then” Morgan sighs glancing at the dead set look on your face before walking out. You go to move onto Jason Ducan, touching his foot lightly before freezing. You stare at him for a few moments, your body frozen in place. He’s too young, his family loved him. How could they take him from them? It doesn't make sense.

“(Y/n), do you want me to do it?” Dave calls out to you kindly, breaking up your thoughts.

“No I got it” You reply letting out a small breath before pulling back his foot and taking a photo. A small W has been crossed out and replaced with a L, your heart crashing into your stomach as you see it. In a flash you're pulling away and making your way outside for some fresh air.

~~~

You lean against the SUV as you ring Reid, who is driving to see the other body that was discovered last night.

“Hey (Y/l), You're on speaker phone” You can hear Reid smile through the phone.

“Hey guys, are you at the body yet?” You focus on slowly your racing heart beat as you speak to them, readying yourself to pass on the information.

“Not yet, we are still two and half hours out from the town” Emily response, glancing at the phone as she drives.

“Okay that's fine, I just have a few things I need you to look at when you get there” Taking a breath as you think back to the cut on Jason's foot. “On his left foot I need you to see if there is anything cut into it, I am sending you a photo of the other two victims' feet okay” You quickly send them the photos.

“Okay I got it” Reid replies after a few moments.

“Oh that's gross” Emily groans.

“That's because you hate feet” Smirking just a little at her reaction.

“It's not my fault they are smelly and gross” She laughs just a little.

“Also you two should be driving through a small town called Cobar, it's a small town with a big population of homeless teenages It might pay to stop and talk to them, see if they have seen anything out of place lately” You take a sharp breath as a strange feeling starts filling you as you think about that place.

“Sure we can do that” Emily nods, her face tightening into a frown. “Hey, um are you okay?”

“I'm good, why?” Your lips pull into a thin line as you line.

“Because this case seems to be weighing on you alot” She explains, tapping her finger on the steering wheel.

“Nope It's just another case, I gotta go” You quickly hang up before she can ask more questions. Reid and Prentiss share some strange and concerning looks as the phone beeps.

“What is he hiding?” Emily mumbles to herself as she stares out at the road.

~~~

The rest of the day goes by quickly, you three end up meeting up with JJ and Hotch back at the precinct. Rossi and Morgan go and talk with Jason Duncan's parents once they arrive trying to get more information from them. JJ works with other precincts where the other bodies and missing boys have been reported, trying to get all the information she can. You and Hotch work together trying to organise a timeline for the last 12 months, and with all the information you already have some parts are easy to fill in. Until he starts questioning you on the one part you can’t answer.

“They shouldn’t be here, they should have gone east” Hotch sighs as you both stare at the map laid across the table.

“I agree but they didn’t” You don’t agree with that, but according to the timeline it makes sense.

“But do you agree?” Hotch looks up at you, doubt playing across his face.

“What are you getting at Hotch?” Huffing little as you pick up your coffee, staring back at him.

“You said they would be coming this way, so why would you think that?” There’s his stern look eating at you. Making your stomach sink as you hide the truth from him. The truth is, you know their base is around here. This town is the first thing you remember when you escape but you can’t tell him that, no one can know.

“I don't know” You lie, and it's a bad one.

“Don’t lie to me”

“I'm not lying!” You don’t mean to snap at him, but fear and guilt were eating away at you and you can’t contain it anymore.

“Then tell me the truth” His words are sharp and to the point, but his face stays calm, his eyes soft and caring as he stares at you.

“Fine, I had a feeling like this town means something, because look at the pattern here Aaron” Your shoulders tenses up as you lean forward, pointing at the map. “Look, they always avoid this town, and they always avoided leaving bodies in this state until last night so since they did that I decided to take a risk and wait for them to leave us something around here and do you want to know what I’m thinking right now” A smirk slips onto your lips as you speak, a feeling of excitement spreads throughout you as you share your idea.

“You think their base is around here” Aaron finishes your thought, not liking that smirk on your face.

“Exactly and if they left us this breadcrumb it only means two things, one they are somehow becoming sloppy or two—”

“They know you are investigating them” He finishes your sentence again, dread filling him due to just how close you are to this investigation.

“Not me, but someone yes and we can use that”

“How?”

Luckily Aaron's phone rings just before you have to answer that.

“It's Garcia” He glances at you before answering it, placing it on speaker. “Hey Garcia, what do you got?”

“Well boss man, I got good news and some gross news” Penelope's sweet voice floats through the phone.

“What's the good news Garica?” You straighten up as you hope.

“Well our unnamed victim is Liam Clark, he’s 19 years old and went missing five years ago in florida” Garcia informs you both just as the door to the conference room opens and the rest of the team walks in.

“Alright, can you send through his family information please” You sigh, leaning backwards in your chair, the stress of the case becoming too much.

“Will do my love, now are we ready for some more information?” Her voice starts filling with dread as she types aways.

“Hit us with the good stuff baby girl” Morgan speaks up, coming to sit on the edge of the table by the phone.

“Oh I wish it was good news chocolate thunder, but (Y/n) was right.” She sighs as Aaron phones dings. “I found their profile on the dark web and all their live streams have been saved, there are hundreds of them, maybe even closer to a thousand, and they got back many, many years” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “I haven’t looked at them all yet but there are some that are over 25 years old”

Your heart sinks, your palms becoming sweaty as realisation sits in. Your videos are still up, your team could find out in a matter of seconds what you are.

“25 years…” Your voice is as quiet as a mouse, your throat tightening up as your team glances over at you. “How did no one see this?” Your voice gets louder, filling with anger as you jump to your feet.

“They hide their tracks well” Reid speaks up, his eyes focused on you.

“Bullshit, no one can hide their tracks that well!”

“Okay you need to take a breath” Hotch gets up, walking closer to you. Watching the anger firing up inside your eyes.

“No, we need to find these monsters and make them pay, they have hurt and ruined so many innocent people's lives” You spit the words out, your hands squeezing into fist.

“Is that all?” Morgan questions you, getting up, standing uncomfortably close to you.

“What's that meant to mean!?” Your body is already in defensive mode, locking itself down as Morgan has a determined look inside his own.

“Well you seem to be hiding something from us and I would like to know what that is?” His questioning is dangerous, he steps closer to you. The rest of the room falls quiet, your eyes burning into his.

“How about, none of your damn business Morgan”

“It is my business when you drag us into it” He huffs back at you. “Just tell us what you're hiding” He steps closer, his breath lingering on your skin.

“Back the fuck up Derek” Your voice is lower, and full of danger. You can feel yourself about to snap and if you do, you don’t think you will be able to stop.

“We barely know you, so why don’t you just tell us what the hell is going on” Derek demands to know “What is wrong with you (Y/n)?” His hand raises up, and before you can process what is happening. Bam. Your fist collides with his mouth and you see red as he stumbles backwards. You follow him, a low growl leaves you as you punch him again, this time aiming for his eyes. He manages to block, trying to hold you back, but you don’t stop trying to get a blow on him. You can hear voices all around you but you can’t hear past the blood rushing in your ears. Soon there are arms wrapping around you from behind, pulling you away from Morgan. You struggle against them trying to break free as you stare daggering at Morgan who is being confronted by three people of your team, you don’t recognize them. Soon there is another person in your way, your body tenses as you see them. They quickly place their hands on your cheeks which make you freeze, the anger vanishing from inside you. Your vision starts easing up and faces start becoming recognizable. The person who is holding your face gently, has beautiful eyes, and a soft smile.

“Your safe (Y/n)” JJ speaks softly, “Just take some breaths” You stare at her, and soon start copying her breathing. Rossi lets you go, moving towards the rest of the team as you calm down.

“Let me go JJ” Your words are as cold as ice, the numb empty look in your eyes being replaced by guilt and anger.

“Okay” She takes a breath before removing her hands and as soon as she does you bolt out the door.

~~~

You keep running once you get outside, you don’t stop, you can’t, you just can’t. Your mind is spinning and the only way you know how to get it to become quiet again, is to run. So that's what you do, you run. The sun is already set so you enjoy the darkness as you run. You can’t believe you lost it and punch Morgan, but what the hell is he getting at? Now what the hell are you meant to say, what lie are you meant to produce that will cover your ass. You're not sure how long you have been running for, but you're running out of breath when you see a corner store and think oh why not. Checking you have your wallet you head inside grabbing a bottle of water and a pack of cigarettes. Walking back out you open it, throwing the rubbish in the bin before lighting it and taking a long drag. Closing your eyes as you inhale it, it's been a long time since you last smoked and god does it just hit right tonight. Slowly you begin walking back to the precinct, enjoying the nicotine hit. You know you're about halfway to the precinct when you decide to check your phone after feeling it ring a few times.

Missed phone calls: Aaron Hotchner (6)

Penelope Garcia (3)

You're not sure how many smokes you have consumed already but the pack is way lighter than it used to be. You really should ring them back instead of lighting another one, but oh well you think as you bring one more to your lips. Pulling out the lighter just as a car pulls up beside you, groaning softly as you recognize it. You keep walking, not caring to look at him as he rolls the window down.

“Get in the car” Hotch yells at you, following you.

“Nope” You go to light the smoke instead when he stops the car and gets out.

“We are an hour walk from the precinct, get the hell in” Aaron doesn’t bother to hide his anger, holding himself back from grabbing that cigarette from your hand.

“Or what?”

“Or you're fired, and I’ll leave you here” He huffs angrily, seeing you weighing up your options.

“Fine” You take a long drag on your smoke before stomping it out and climbing in.

~~~

The ride back is quiet, as you stare out the window.

“How angry is everyone?” Your voice is quiet and empty. Almost empty because Aaron can detect a small trail of sadness and fear in your words.

“Morgan winded you up on purpose, he pushed you too far. That wasn’t okay what either of you two did” Hotch ignored your question, because he knew you wouldn’t accept that fact no one is angry. No, everyone is just worried and concerned about you, something you don’t know how to spot or accept when it comes to yourself. He wishes you could just trust the team, trust him enough to let them help.

“I have a past” You pull yourself closer as you stare out the window, thinking about your next words carefully.

“You don’t have to tell me” Aaron quickly tells you softly, needing you to know there is no rush.

“And if I do want to tell you?” You glance at him quickly, and for a moment you forget he is your boss and see him in the light of your friend.

“Then I'm here to listen” He smiles lightly at you. You nod quickly looking back out the window, and then slowly you move your hand towards him, which he happily takes sliding his fingers between yours.

“I was abused growing up, no one cared and nobody knew, I never told anyone” You stare out the window, emotions settling down as you speak. “This case brings back memories I never wanted to relieve back up, I have to find these people so that we can save these kids” Your voice is sweet as you speak, this is a side no one but Aaron ever gets to see.

“And we will get them and we will get them help” Aaron smiles weakly as he pulls up. “But once this case is over we need to get you some help too, okay?” His thumb slides over your hand as you glance at him. If only he knew that nothing on earth can help you, and at the end of this case you don’t think you will still be on this team.

“Okay” You nod forcing a small smile before pulling away and making your way inside.

~~~

You walk in quietly, followed by Aaron. The team is staring up at the tv, watching some of the latest fights. You freeze as you catch a glance of his face on the screen. You knew he was still there but the look in his eyes is killing you. He's gone, replaced by a murderous robot, his skills are fast and sharp.

“Ryan” His name slips off your tongue before you can stop it, your body tenses up as you stare at the screen and the way he gets his opponent down in one quick move. Emily pauses it as everyone's head turns to you once more. This time everyone looks at you with concern as they see the tears forming in your eyes, which you quickly push away once you let everyone get a good look.

“You know him?” Reid asks you, tilting his head as he asks you.

“Um y yeah..” You take a deep breath. “I went to school with him” It's a lie, but you know it's golden. “He went missing when he was around 15 years old, we were best friends then one day he didn't turn up to school and well” You take a deep breath as Aaron leads you to a chair, your arms shaking just a little. “He was officially determined missing a week later, his parents were absent, they didn’t care for him” That wasn’t a lie, he told you about his parents and how much they hurt him and how they were barely at home.

“Oh (Y/n)” JJ places her hand softly on the table beside your hand, not touching but showing you she is here for you. You give her a soft smile in response.

“If he’s been there this whole time it's been twelve years” Twelve years, he is never going to be the same.

“Jesus christ” Morgan groans with regret as he looks at you. “That's what you were hiding?”

“I had a feeling he was there.. I was just hoping I was wrong” Your voice is weak and tiredness is starting to take over. It's been almost 48 hours since you last slept.

“Now we got a lead, tomorrow we get Garcia to look into him but let's call it a night it's late we all need sleep” Hotch states, everyone nodding in agreement including you as you stare at Ryan's face on the screen. That's all your fault.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x male!reader #aaron hotcher dark fic #aaron hotcher fic #bau x reader #bau x male reader

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solxamber · 26 days ago

Note

That Leona fic was extremely good

Most folks don't write him like that fic, they hone in on his aggression, his quips and how he snarks at stuff. How he naps. But most folks don't write him like this, don't write about his depression and his apathy. They sometimes write a bit of it, usually in the sense of him being cynical

But that's not quite the way leona expresses his depression.

The way you wrote it captures it really well. Like i said, a lot of fics tend to make him either a suave sarcastic guy or an aggressive confident dude (both with a penchant for naps)

But this fic

This fic really gets into why he does the things he does

It's really good

Because

Leona is tired, he's a guy who's essentially always ended up second, and he has expectations placed upon him that he didn't want and that people simultaneously want him to fulfill but don't think he will and then they get pissy about it. it's usually played off like "oh that's just leona haha, he never does anything and he'll do it complaining" and then that's that. He's treated like he's lazy and uncaring but truly, if he really didn't care and didn't want to, then it wouldn't have affected him so much. Why would he get so competitive if he didn't yearn to be something more, why would he help his dorm mates if he didn't care, why would he have overblotted if he didn't so desperately wish to be something more, to be seen as Leona. To be recognized, to be acknowledged, to be seen. To be seen as Leona. Not Prince, not Housewarden, not the Royal or the Lazy Lion. He's lived a life time of being told he was the second, of being treated like the second. A lifetime of these expectations- plus the underlying expectations of failure it seems- and the isolation from all of this. The titles, the expectations. Of course he put up those walls, of course he's like that. With all that he goes through, Is it any wonder? He's tired of reaching out only to get burned, tired of the disappointment of hope, it hurts to have that type of failed anticipation. You can only get let down so much before you stop wanting to get back up.

You wrote it so wonderfully

(hope this makes sense, I'm tired and aaaa)

Anyways good fic. I don't really like leona fics (usually cause of the way he ends up getting characterized in fandom versus how he is in the manga and novel and game, but i really really enjoyed the Leona fic)

thank you so so much that means so much to me! 🫶🫶

Leona is really dear to me; mostly because when I finally burnt out from being the "gifted child", I showed the same signs he does and I know its easy to call it lazy and rude and just move on. But the bitterness and the exhaustion from being second best is maddening. I had people to help me out of it quickly but Leona did not and I feel really strongly about the way he's characterised.

And you're exactly right, he wouldn't have overblotted if he didn't care. And he clearly cares.

It makes perfect sense and thank you for your analysis! 🫶

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d3adp00ls · 1 year ago

Text

skateboards, bruises, and spiders

Summary: While Peter is supposed to be teaching you how to skateboard you notice a new bruise on his face leading you to confront him about it (the summary sucks I know i couldn't think of a good one)

Warnings: mentions of an attempt of robbing an old lady, Peter has a bruise (but that's normal for him), honestly there aren't any real warnings this was just smth I put together cuz I was bored but it's just fluffy.

Word count: it’s short. But you can count and tell me if you want ☺️☺️

A/N: I need to make a new masterlist later but I'm too lazy to do it rn but here's this fic while we can all pretend I definitely didn't forget or give up on my other series 🤭🤭🤭. ALSO, this could be seen as a platonic type of thing but in my mind, they both like each other but won't say anything (yet)

........

A bunch screaming, crying, and laughing that's all you could hear while you waited for your best friend who was supposed to be here over 10 minutes ago, Peter told you he wanted to hang out as much as possible this summer so when you brought up the fact that you were trying to learn how to skate he right away told you he would help teach you and you agreed to it embarrassingly fast though. Your patience was wearing thin and you had sent a few texts to Peter none of which he responded to or even saw. You rub your face and let out a sigh as you press his contact and call him and let it ring.

“Hello?”

“Peter! Hey, it's Y/n you know? Your friend? The one you were supposed to meet up with at the park over 15 minutes ago? Are you still coming or what man?”

You hear him curse on the other side of the phone and it causes your jaw to clench thinking he forgot about you.

“If you forgot it's fine we can do it some other ti-”

You hear shuffling on the other end before he cuts you off.

“No! I mean no I didn't forget- I mean I kind of forgot- what I mean is I just lost track of time but I'm on my way right now.”

You stay quiet for a moment as you listen to him move around through the phone You swear you hear you hear cop sirens that sound way too close to be outside his room but you choose to ignore it before you lean back on the bench and let your skateboard rest on your lap

“Alright, I’m by that playground near the bathrooms and the vegan food place,” you say into the phone and you hear him hum in response before you hang up.

........

It took Peter about 7 minutes to finally get to you and when he did he realized he forgot his skateboard so you both had to walk back to his aunt's apartment to get it, now you were both back at the park. You were watching him as he explained how to maintain balance while you push yourself and blah blah blah, you were just nodding your head pretending to listen while you stared at the new bruise below his eye that definitely wasn't there the last time you saw him

“Okay so then you’re gonna push like- Y/n/n? Y/n? Are you even listening to me?”

You blink a few times trying to think of what he was saying to you.

“Um…” Peter sighs before you can even come up with an excuse.

“Y/n, you asked for my help but you're not even paying attention, were you even listening at all-”

“How’d you get that bruise?” You cut him off

Peter's eyes go wide for a moment before he looks down at his foot playing with the skateboard in front of him.

“Are you trying to change the subject?”

“No…I just wanted to know,” You scratch the back of your neck as you look around you “I mean you didn't have it the last time I saw you and I'm just curious.”

You hear Peter hum, “I fell off my skateboard the other day.”

Now it was your turn to hum, “Oh really? That's weird…cause I've had that same kind of bruise before…and it was when someone punched me…”

“Someone punched you-” “Not recently, and plus that's not the point, Peter, that was a long time ago, but someone definitely punched you recently.”

You watch him scratch his neck as he tries to think of an excuse before he sighs.

“No one punched me I just ran into a pole-” “You're a horrible liar Parker, Who punched you? Was it Flash again? I thought you guys were friends now… Or was it that one kid-” “It doesn't matter Y/n-” “It does matter, you’re hurt-” “I'm fine” “But you’re bruised-” “It doesn't even hurt anymore-” “Okay but it did at some point.”

He stares at you in bewilderment at how you wouldn't drop this conversation and how you were actually worried about him.

“Y/n, I’m fine I swear, some guy was trying to rob this old lady and jumped in and stopped him, he was able to land a hit on my face before I could get him on the ground though.” He says with a shrug.

You sigh and shake your head.

“You could've just told me that instead of lying,” “Yeah I know but it was fun seeing you all worried about me.” He nudges you with his arm before laughing when you glare at him

“I wasn't ‘all worried’ about you I just wanted to know whether or not it had something to do with the police I heard through the phone early.” After you say this you can see him tense and his eyes widen.

“What police?” “Peter don't play dumb when we were on the call I literally heard police sirens going off in the background, at first I thought maybe it was just from outside but then I realize they were too loud and that you were in fact near them,” “I don't remember hearing any police sirens when I was on the phone with you-” “Okay peter whatever you say man, but the way you're all tensed up and sweating it just proves my point more and more.” “And what point is that?” You smile when he asks you that and you can see his brows furrow when you lean closer to him so you could whisper to him, “That you’re Spider-man.”

Peter jumps back his eyes wide and his mouth agape as he stares at you as if you had just told him Victoria’s Secret, “Spider-man?!” he shouts but when you both notice people looking toward you he calms down slightly and leans back in “Spider-man? That’s crazy- how could I- no way- I'm not him- he's not me- that's a crazy idea-” You only stare at him with a raised brow as he continues to rant about how he could never be the vigilante that swings around new york city every day.

Eventually, you get bored of listening to him try to deny his alter ego and you pick up your own skateboard and start to walk away.

“-And plus if I was Spider-Man- hey wait where are you going?”

“We came here to skate Parker, not to talk about your secret double life that, by the way, is definitely real, and as much as I would love to stuff in your face how I've figured you out I also wanna learn how to do tricks on this thing.” You lift your skateboard up before letting it drop on the ground and getting on it and skating away.

“Hey wait!” Peter quickly got on his before trying to catch up with you.

“When did you even learn to skate!?”

...…..

A/n: Bro ik it’s short like I said 😒 I was just bored and made this 🤭🤭🤭but yo I think I did good I told my friend I would probably finished at 3am it’s only 1 so I’m good now. OH ALSO MY REQUEST ARE OPEN (but specifically for PETER PARKER ONLY!!!) SO PLEASE SEND IN SMTH IM BORED AND ITS ONLY 1AM

(Also please leave a like if you enjoyed and if you’re feeling ever so generous a reblog as well 🫶🏾🫶🏾)

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #peter parker x yn #peter parker x you #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm!peter x reader #andrew garfield x reader #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker #andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #fem!reader #black!reader #bisexual!reader #peter parker x fem!reader #andrew!peter x reader #andrew!peter parker #spiderman x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader

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queenofthekings · 8 months ago

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ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜰɪʀᴇ, ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ (ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ)

Summary: You are part of the biggest girl group on the planet, Eddie is the face of the biggest rock band of the century. A chance meeting at Coachella sends both of you into what would be the biggest love affair in music history; if only people knew about it.

Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie x K-Pop Idol!Reader

Author's note: My love for K-Pop and Stranger Things/Eddie Munson in one fic? It's more likely than you think. If you don't know much/anything about the K-Pop world, not to worry, I'll be going over some of it in this fic! I'll try to keep the Korean honorific names to a minimum but I do wanna try to keep things as plausible as possible.

Disclaimer: In this fic, I have specified that Reader is not Korean or Asian. As someone who is white; I didn't feel it was right to write a POC character. Please be respectful.

CW: 18+, mentions of unhealthy eating habits, obsessive fan behaviour, toxic work environments, swearing, a little NSFW content, sexting, no use of Y/N but Reader's stage name is Luna.

Tagging: @munsonsbtch @impmunson @binickmiller @ali-r3n @stevesjockstrap

Word count: 2.6k

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

APRIL 2019

Coachella was the biggest music festival in the world and playing there was an honour and a privilege; and while Eddie knew this, he found a lot of the hype around it insufferable. He never felt like his band belonged up there with the lights of Beyonce and Justin Bieber, even when Corroded Coffin had exploded with popularity, the larger venues they’d play out would never compare to the smaller shows.

Disliking Coachella when you perform there is one story, disliking Coachella and ending up in the crowd of one of the most talked about acts of the whole festival another matter entirely. But somehow, Gareth had convinced him to leave the tour bus to watch one performance. Only one.

“Why are we even here?” Eddie yelled into Gareth’s ear, trying to make sure he was heard over the screaming and cheering fans that surrounded them. The show hadn’t even started yet but the crowd was already at deafening levels.

“I thought it was high time you experienced a new genre of music,” Gareth yelled back, giving him a smug grin. “Plus, I hear one of the members of the group is a fan of ours.”

Eddie shrugged, knowing that Gareth was right in saying it was time to experience some new music outside of his usual comfort zone. And given the way the stage was set, the flags and lightsticks people were waving and demographic of the crowd; this was definitely outside of his comfort zone. “Who even are they?” he asked, grabbing his phone from his pocket.

Before he had a chance to type a single letter into Google, Gareth took his phone and pulled up a Wikipedia page for the group. “This is them. And before say anything, don’t judge the group before you listen to them.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at his bandmate before looking at the page, giving Gareth even more of the side-eye.

Chain Reaction is a South Korean girl group formed by YG Entertainment, consisting of members Yoohyeon, Luna, Dahyun, and Yuqi. The group debuted in August 2016 with the digital single “Whistle”.

“K-Pop? Really, Gareth?”

“I said not to judge!” Gareth shrugged, just as the music began starting, causing both of them to look up. Eddie’s ears were already beginning to ring from how loud the fans were screaming; he was used to hearing fans through his in-ear during shows, but this was on a whole other level. Eddie didn’t pay much attention until he noticed the cropped t-shirt on one of the members, recognising the design and logo.

His heart skipped a beat, his mouth dropping open as he looked at Gareth who took the words right out of his mouth, leaning over to shout directly into his ear. “Yup, that’s a Corroded Coffin shirt, she’s a massive fan.”

Eddie chuckled a little to himself, shouting back into Gareth’s ear. “Maybe this won’t be so bad.”

After a couple of songs, the group began their introduction, all speaking in perfect unison and bowing to the still screaming audience. “Hello, we are Chain Reaction!”

A girl with dyed dark blue hair spoke up first, clearly showing her leader position. “Hello, Coachella, my name is Yoohyeon and I’m so thankful you all came out to see us!”

The crowd screamed as a response, causing the group to laugh and clap long. Then you spoke up, your long blonde hair making you stand out against the other members. “Hello, everyone,” you began, and Eddie’s heart instantly melted at your soft voice, especially at your accent. “My name is Luna, and I hope you enjoy the show.” You bowed a little, pulling down your shirt a little to make sure it wasn’t exposing too much.

As the other members introduced themselves, Eddie could hardly focus on them, he was far too interested in staring at you. He vaguely knew Yuqi had natural dark brown hair and Dahyun had dark purple hair – the only way he knew he could remember to tell them apart, probably a move from their manager so people could tell the difference.

Gareth noticed him staring, giving him a nudge. “Somebody’s got a crush.”

He glared back. “I just think she’s cute, completely not my type.”

Gareth gave him the look of “yeah, we’ll see about that”, already knowing that Eddie would at least attempt to hook up with you after the show. It was inevitable, it happened at any event or show he attended. The only thing Eddie Munson loved more than music, was women. It was rare if his hotel room didn’t have a groupie in it; and being the biggest rock band in the world meant there was an abundance of them wherever they went, Eddie would always have one on his arm by the end of the night.

Although the idea of you and Eddie together was adorable – a rock legend and a pop princess together? You’d be media darlings – although Gareth knew it would be like playing with fire. The fans of both of your groups would rip both of you and the relationship apart, the constant invasion of privacy from fans and the press alike would be almost unbearable.

But that’s the downside to being a public figure and dating someone just as well-known as you are.

Eddie wasn’t known for long term dating, either. The longest relationship Gareth had ever seen him in was his “high school sweetheart”, Chrissy Cunningham, only ended up lasting less than a year. Every other girl he’d been with wouldn’t last longer than a few weeks, he’d always blame it on his career, but Gareth knew that in reality, Eddie just didn’t want to be tied down to one person.

You, on the other hand, had no public relationship history. Being a K-Pop idol left almost no time for dating or even much of a social life outside of groupmates; and if a female idol was seen with a male idol outside of activities, fans would go wild and instantly assume they’re dating and usually boycott the idols for “betraying” them.

Once the group finished their final song; the crowd screamed and cheered, causing almost every member to look as if they were ready to burst into tears of happiness. The four of you joined hands to bow towards the audience as a thank you before you spoke up. “Coachella, we have been Chain Reaction; thank you very much and goodnight!”

Eddie kept his eyes on you, almost unable to take his eyes off you. You gave one last smile to the crowd, waving as you turned to lock eyes with Eddie. Even through the pandemonium that surrounded both of you, it all seemed to dissolve as if you were the only ones there.

You had to be almost dragged off the stage by your bandmates otherwise you would’ve spent all night just staring at Eddie. But even while you were being dragged off stage, you were desperately trying to find Eddie’s eyes again. You hoped you would be able to properly talk to him, even if you had to do it behind your manager’s back.

Backstage, the staff were cheering and applauding you and the band, giving their congratulations, and offering fans and water. You sprinted towards Yoohyeon, wrapping your arms tightly around your senior. The pair of you hugged tightly as you both broke down in floods of tears.

“This is all we ever dreamed of, unnie,” you sobbed, taking a tissue from a staff member to dab at your eyes, being careful not to ruin your makeup. Yoohyeon took the tissue from you and began trying to stop your tears. “I’m so proud of you.”

Yoohyeon laughed through her own tears, not caring if they ruined her makeup. “I’m proud of us, we’ve worked so hard for this, and you were perfect.”

You laughed a little through your tears, turning to the other two members and motioning them to come over and join in a group hug. Although there was only about a month between the two of you; Yoohyeon was definitely the older sister and mother of the group, and you were the baby sister who needed looking after and a lot of hugs.

You’d always been extremely close, even since your trainee days. Every night, you would tell each other that you’d debut together, no matter how hard you’d have to train or what you had to sacrifice.

But every member had sacrificed so much even to just get past the first audition; you’d given up school, friends, family, any chance of a normal life for one tiny shot at making it. But in that moment, all four of you knew that all the blood, sweat and tears you’d all poured into training was worth it. You’d all made it.

Walking arm in arm with Yoohyeon, the pair of you walked down the stairs to the artists area away from the stage, always looking back every few moments to check your younger bandmates were following behind both of you. You tapped Yoohyeon’s arm to stop her to let your members catch up, so all four of you could give your manager, Steve a celebratory hug.

As soon as you stepped into the artists area and saw Steve, you couldn’t control the excitement and relief of the performance; you screamed and sprinted towards him, jumping into his arms, and barely giving him enough time to catch you. You got on well with Steve, he became like a big brother to you and your fellow band members, even if he was a little strict with the four of you, but it certainly came out of a place of love and wanting the best for all of you.

“You were amazing out there,” Steve hugged you tightly, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he slowly let you down out of his arms and handed you a water bottle with a straw in the top.

“Think we won ‘em over, boss?” You asked, smirking as you placed the straw in the side of your lips.

“Won them over? You guys have done more than that, Twitter is exploding, you’re the top five trends on Naver, you guys are all anyone’s talking about,” Steve grinned.

“We’ve made it!” You shouted in unison with your band mates, before all of you laughed and hugged. Sure, Chain Reaction was very successful in South Korea, but this was a whole new level of success and recognition. All eyes were on your group and despite that new level of pressure, you all thrived under it; the challenge was exciting to all of you.

Your bandmates took their seats and chatted excitedly amongst themselves, while you leaned against the wall, taking in every moment around you. You hadn’t even realised you’d zoned out until Eddie was stood in front of you. “I know I’m beautiful, but you could at least take a picture if you’re gonna look that much,” he smirked.

You blinked a million times in a second, partly to snap yourself out of your zoned out state but also partly because you could hardly believe your eyes that Eddie Munson – the Eddie Munson – was stood in front of you. You’d been starstruck almost ever since you arrived in California several days beforehand, but this was on a whole other level.

The memories of listening to Corroded Coffin late at night during your trainee days flashed through your mind a million miles an hour, how much their lyrics kept you going when you thought you might quit and how you’d spend so much of your free time watching their performances, hooked on Eddie’s stage presence.

And now he was here in front of you, talking to you.

It was all so surreal.

You blinked again, clearing your throat. “Sorry, I completely zoned out.”

Eddie laughed, nodding his head. “Happens to a lot of people, did you wanna get out of here? Go somewhere a little quieter?”

You nodded and before you could even say a word, Eddie took your hand and led you out of the area and around the back of the crowds of staff and tents, towards Corroded Coffin’s tour bus. You somewhat wanted to protest but you weren’t about to stop this once in a lifetime chance to talk with Eddie, so you kept your mouth shut as he opened the door for you to get inside before following you inside.

“Don’t worry, everyone else is enjoying the festival, they’re not gonna be back for a while. Can I get you a drink?” He asked, moving past you towards a small fridge.

You bit your bottom lip as you walked through the bus, taking a seat at the table. “Just some water… or a Coke if you have it.”

“Lucky for you,” he pulled the fridge door open and pulled out a water bottle and a small can of Coke, placing both on the table before sitting down opposite you. “I have both.”

You smiled softly as you took both drinks, taking a long sip of the cold water. “I suppose I haven’t really introduced myself; everyone calls me Luna,” you held out your hand towards Eddie.

Instead of shaking it, he took it and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “And what’s the name your mother gave you? Not the name the company gave you.”

Blushing darkly, you whispered out your birth name. It had been so long since anyone had even asked your real name that “Luna” more or less became your real name. But Eddie seemed to actually want to get to know you, the kiss on the hand was just a cherry on top.

“Beautiful name,” he mused. “It suits you better than the crappy stage name they gave you. How’d you even allow it to happen?”

You laughed softly as you took your hand back, wrapping it around the Coke can. “I was sixteen and very naïve when I came to Korea.”

“You were only sixteen?”

You nodded. “I auditioned for the company when I was about sixteen and then I moved to South Korea a few months later, it all happened pretty fast when I look back at it. I debuted when I was twenty.”

He sat back in the chair. “Looks like we debuted at the same age, I was twenty when our first album came out.”

“I never realised that! I listened to you guys throughout my whole trainee period, it really helped keep the passion for music alive for me.”

He smiled softly. “Well I’m glad it helped at least one person, that’s all that matters honestly. So… tell me more about you.”

You smiled back at him, leaning forward in your chair to get closer to him, beginning to babble about yourself, all the while he just looked at you with such care in his eyes, hooked on your every word.

After almost an hour, talk got to your company and just how hard it was being an idol. “Under contract, we’re not allowed to; drive, buy a car, smoke, drink, date, go clubbing, get plastic surgery, get tattoos, travel for a holiday, write and produce our own music, have control over our own money or our image. We can’t even show our faces in vlogs our friends have made.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure that’s slavery.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Trust me, this is heaven compared to how contracts used to be.”

He chuckled a little, placing a hand over yours. “Listen, I should let you get back to your members or your manager might have my head, but could I get your number and we could do this again sometime?”

You smiled, nodding. “Of course.”

#spilled ink #playing with fire #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #joseph quinn #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader

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the-s1lly-corner · 1 year ago

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Hey thanks for accepting this ask. So what I wanted to ask is how the amazing digital circus crew would react to a reader who's a strong hero...that's incredibly optimistic, dense and Guilable thinking that the world acts like a cartoon/comic sometimes

TADC cast x comic hero type reader!

meant to start knocking out these last two requests earlier this morning but i had to clean up the house a bit; but im finally getting onto it! reminder that requests are currently closed and any requests sent in will not be answered and will be deleted to keep the inbox clean; so please keep your requests until i announce theyre open again! plan on taking a day or two off to rest my brain n back as well as catching up on art and my own personal fic. the requests being answered currently were sent in prior to requests closing with that said, i hope you enjoy this anon!!

CAINE:

honestly i think caine would be the same way, not exactly but i think he would some of the cluelessness in terms of how the real world works... except its mostly with the non digital real world; call it inexperience or something! lets you play hero during the IHA.. honestly you kind of fit right in with your personality, with tropes and being a stereotypical comic book hero, if not a little naïve. pretends he doesnt recognize you when you walk around in your "citizens disguise"

likes coming up with villain npcs for you to fight during adventures

POMNI:

initial confusion when she sees you just walking around with a tie plastered to your chest, asks you what its for as well as dropping your name. even more shocked that youre shocked that she knows who you are. kind of just accepts this is a thing you do and doesnt question it, especially as she settles into the digital world.. at least youre handy during IHA.. i think during my little break i might try to figure out how i wish to right pomni because i really do wish i made her stuff more... interesting

RAGATHA:

honestly i think she would make you stuff to add to your disguise. doesnt want to shatter the illusion for you so she just tries to casually give you stuff out of the kindness of her heart... which isnt... totally wrong.. honestly i dont think she would try to change you or bring up the bad disguise thing so long as its not somehow putting you in danger. in fact i think she finds your whole hero personality endearing, you guys are both optimistic and its nice to be around someone who isnt just. losing their marbles or being a dick.. plus, you arent technically wrong to view the digital world as a cartoon, i mean, look at it and look at the physics of the world and all

JAX:

oh he is going to be a menace, probably makes a joke villain persona to mess with you only for you to immediately gun for him and deal with his "evil antics",, i mean hey as long as jax doesnt put his silly little villain mask back on you wouldnt suspect a thing... maybe... i think he would roll his eyes at some of the things you say, since youre way more optimistic and out there than ragatha... probably uses your gullible..ness... as a means to trick you

KINGER:

honestly the "as a royal myself" line he dropped in the pilot makes me think that at some level he believes himself to be a real king; or maybe he was just REALLY playing into his whole theming and he knows hes just some dude but was trying to appeal to the gloink queen... what im trying to say is that i think there might actually be a solid chance he fully leans into your hero thing, and perhaps even falls for your disguise (if him constantly forgetting gangle is standing right next to him says anything about his observation skills and/or mental state)

ZOOBLE:

similar to jax but also not. finds your optimism a little too much sometimes; especially if youre very outwardly social and friendly so its not like you swoop in to do your hero duties but you also stop to talk to the 'civilians' of the circus.. though unlike jax they wouldnt try to trick you, nor do i think they would exactly be mean to you. a little irritable by your energy and attitude, maybe, but i think zooble gets irritated by almost everyone in the circus.. reluctantly plays along with your disguise

GANGLE:

i think she would be into it, probably draws you in your non-disguise outfit. you get fanart, yay! probably similar to pomni in the whole, just accepts how you are both as a person and with your antics, but i think she just accepts everything everyone else does! not much to say, shes a fan of it and if you stand up for her when jax is mean thats just an added bonus for her

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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asimplearchivist · 5 months ago

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𝑪𝑯. 𝑽𝑰 — 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑺𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑹.

𝐂𝐇. 𝐕𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary 🕷️ ⤏ you reflect on your history with miguel—both your husband and your new…colleague. pairing 🕷️ miguel o’hara/spider!reader word count 🕷️ 5.8k a/n 🕷️ [gif credit] ⤏ the chapter I had planned previously just didn’t fit right yet, plus my poll ruled that so I decided to go a different direction since my muse was being a capricious bitch like usual. we’ll hit the levity another day boys.⤏ I sprinkled in the little bit of comic lore that I’ve absorbed through fanfics and the wiki while tweaking it all to fit the timeline of my fanon for this fic, but I tried not to go into too much detail bc ATSV!Miguel’s history is still so vague. please correct me if there are any glaring mistakes.⤏ please mind the tags in the masterpost linked below. here be stupid (albeit lore accurate) decisions. 🕷️ MASTERPOST 🕷️ 🕷️ PREVIOUS CHAPTER ⤎ 🕷️ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER 🕷️

Considering how odd your life had proven to be until present, you shouldn’t really have been surprised by how quickly you were able to adapt to your new circumstances.

Receiving high enough marks in your earliest years that you were hand-selected to be sent to Alchemax’s glorified drone factory of a school, steadily ascending through the ranks of your peers as your intellect was honed and sharpened with heavy instruction and endless study, and working your ass off through the highest levels of education in hopes of becoming successful enough to live comfortably all culminating in you meeting the love of your life in the process was only the start.

Your Miguel had been an undesirable individual, one to whom you hadn’t initially been attracted due to the history that preceded him (mostly because you had roomed with Xina for a time). He’d been a cocksure player with mommy and daddy issues, as well as an arrogant attitude and smart mouth in equal measure—playing himself off as the typical bad boy to hide all the scarred wounds he nursed underneath his standoffish exterior.

You hadn’t been able to stand him at first. The first time you’d met him, when he’d stopped by the dorm to pick Xina up for a date very early on in their relationship, you’d waited up apprehensively until she got home that night. You’d told her that he was bad news, that you only saw trouble branded across that massive forehead of his, and that she should drop him like a hot potato.

“But I like hot potatoes,” she’d said, eyes twinkling as she’d undressed for bed. “I’ve known him for a long time—since we were kids. He’s really a sweetheart once you get to know him. He’s standoffish to everyone he meets at first, but once he warms up to you, he’s really nice. Just wait, you’ll see. Let him get used to you.”

The first time he’d hung out at the dorm, you’d waited until Xina had slipped into the restroom before leveling him with a glare full of hellfire.

“You break her heart and I’ll break that stupidly fucking perfect nose of yours,” you’d growled, jabbing a finger in his slackened face. “Don’t think you’re fooling me, O’Hara. I know your type, I’ve read your mail—you think you can get away with everything you set your mind to just because you feel like you’re entitled. But I’m warning you right now—don’t test me. She deserves someone who will treat her right. I will not hesitate to wreck your shit, tú hijo de puta*.”

He’d only stared at you, jaw slack as he’d continued to lounge on the couch—taking up nearly half its width with his wide wingspan and those ridiculously long legs he’d sprattled out as though he owned the place. He hadn’t had the chance to respond before Xina had trotted back into the main room. You’d set down the drink on the coffee table that you’d used a guise to get closer and had moved back over to the kitchenette to resume cooking supper as though not a word had been uttered. He hadn’t said another thing to you the rest of the night save a mumbled, “Good night,” when he’d left, averting his eyes from yours the entire time.

Xina had given you a suspicious look once she’d shut and locked the door behind him, but hadn’t brought anything about it up until days later.

“Mig said he really liked your tacos,” she’d remarked casually while the pair of you’d worked on your assignments, sprawled on the floor in the warm afternoon sunshine spilling through the window. “He hasn’t had his mother’s cooking in a while, but he said it reminded him of home. He wanted me to thank you.”

You’d hummed noncommittally, scribbling away at your notes. “Is that all?”

“And he said you threatened him within an inch of his life.”

You’d tipped your head, casting her a glance through your lashes. You’d expected her to get irritated about it, but instead she’d looked…amused. “And…?”

“He also said,” she’d continued, lowering her tablet and folding her arms to prop herself up, “that he’s glad I’ve got someone loyal like you to look after me.”

“Someone has to,” you’d responded evenly, returning your attention to your handwriting. “You’d be up a creek with no paddle without me.”

“He wanted to know if you’d be okay with him coming over again.”

You’d looked back up to her, raising an incredulous brow. “I’m not your keeper, Xi. You can do whatever the hell you want with him.”

She’d mirrored your expression. “I think he’d just like some assurance that you won’t gnaw on his ankles the next time he hits the door.”

Rolling your eyes, you’d shaken your head. “I’m fine. I got my bluff in. I’ll even make him churros if it’ll get him to crack just one smile.”

“Careful, he’ll probably hold you to that. That man has a sweet tooth worse than anyone I’ve ever met.”

He’d orbited you like a small child would a large dog (despite the size comparison being the exact opposite) for a long time after that, only daring to venture closer when you had brandished food at him like peace offerings. How you had managed to actually intimidate him was beyond you (and a part of you had always wondered if he had only acted like it for your benefit), but you had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth—so to have had all six foot five of Miguel O’Hara give you as wide of a berth as one would a bear when you so much as stepped into the room was a power trip you’d tried not to let get to your head.

He wasn’t as bad as you’d first anticipated. He did warm up to you over time, and you’d discovered that his curt demeanor stemmed primarily from his awkwardness. He didn’t talk much because he didn’t know how to talk. He had a difficult time parsing his true meanings and feelings, often stumbling over words or being unintentionally blunt or misleading in the process—if he got frustrated enough, he’d even stutter a bit. He was still an asshole sometimes, certainly—especially around other people he didn’t know or just plainly didn't like, as well as when he’d been in a foul mood after a bad day—but he was, admittedly, pleasant enough company to keep around.

He’d inhale any food you’d set down in front of him, anyway, and cooking had always been your biggest love language, so that had made you feel a bit better about him, at least. A complete dickbag would have complained about your heavy-handedness for powdered thyme and salt, but Miguel had only ever asked for seconds (and sometimes thirds) and had expressed his gratitude by bullying his way in front of the sink to help clean up the dishes.

“He’s like that,” Xina had laughed when you’d griped at her about it. “Can’t thank anyone to save his life, but he’ll be damned if he lets you do anything yourself. Very much an ‘acts of service’ type of guy.”

He had a really dumb sense of humor, unexpectedly simple for one as intelligent as he was—and you knew he’d had to have been keen of mind in order to catch Xina’s eye in the first place, as she didn’t tolerate ignorance in the slightest—but the plainness of his puns and quips and jokes always caught you by surprise. You hadn’t ever been able to bestow a name upon the glitter of mirth in his eyes when he’d managed to make you laugh until Xina had pointed it out.

“He likes you, you know,” she’d said casually over coffee somewhere near the university. “He asks about you all the time, wants to know more about you. I think it would help if you’d give him a little more than the time of day.”

You’d given her a wry smirk. “You want me to be chatty with your boyfriend?”

“Just enough to convince him that you’re not some weird cryptid that lives in my pantry,” she’d sighed, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know how many times he’s asked me how we never met you growing up in school.”

“I’m younger than both of you by a couple of years,” you’d reminded her longsufferingly. “I got bumped up to graduate early. I’m lucky I qualified.”

“No luck about it. You’re a smart cookie, cupcake.” She’d sipped her coffee, eyes cutting out to the street on the other side of the glass, then had pursed her lips. “You know, he…didn’t have a great childhood. He’s been through a lot.” She hadn’t met your puzzled expression. “Just…cut him some slack, will you? He’s a good guy.”

“I don’t have anything against him,” you’d assured her. “He’s just not really the type of person I usually gravitate towards.”

“Oh, yeah, and you’re all about those mousy little nerds who can’t pick up a sack of flour,” she’d laughed, rolling her eyes. “I mean it. He likes you. I can’t say that for a whole lot of people, you know. It takes a lot for him to open up as it is, and he’s really making an effort to try. I don’t know what it is about you, but I’ve never seen him so invested in getting to know someone new—he’s got his little posse and that’s about the extent of his centrism.”

You’d frowned. “You’re not worried about that?”

“Nah.” She’d shaken her head. “Mig’s a lot of things, but duplicitous isn’t one of them. I think you just made a really strong impression on him. Maybe all that bad bitch energy you’ve got oozing off of you is actually toning him down some.”

Eventually, he’d offered to help you cook, too. He’d helped Xina pick up around the dorm when you were out. He’d even helped you study for the biochemistry exam you’d convinced yourself that you’d fail, and you’d ended up making an A. He’d interwoven himself inextricably into your lives and daily routine, resulting in those orbiting your immediate social circle referring to you as the ‘dumbass trio’. Wherever Miguel and Xina went, you often weren’t far behind—not of your own volition, of course, as they often roped you into whatever they were doing unless it was strictly a couple’s thing. Xina had sworn up and down that they had mutually agreed to include you on most things so you wouldn’t feel left out, which you’d appreciated a bit more than you’d ever have readily admitted.

You did make him churros for Christmas, and he had, indeed, smiled—so sincere and sweet in the tight, enveloping hug that he’d given you in lieu of thanks with Xina’s laughter tittering over the pounding of your heart in your ears. You’d patted him awkwardly on the back as he’d released you, turning to the tray to pluck up one of the sweets while you’d been too busy resisting the urge to watch his thick fingers disappear past those impossibly plush lips for his tongue to collect the sugar crystals lingering there—you’d managed it (barely), but you’d spent a little too long that night huffing the collar of your sweater while stripping in the bathroom to shower because his cologne had seeped into the chunky knit and you had never before smelled anything so divine.

Eventually, you met Gabriel, too, who had flirted so shamelessly with you that first time Miguel’d had his face buried in his hands throughout the entire ordeal, muttering curses to himself in Spanish that you hadn’t been able to quite catch (but hadn’t necessarily had to—the mortification in his eyes had been clear).

You and Miguel had spent time together, too. Sometimes he’d come to the dorm when Xina was busy elsewhere just to catch a break. He’d told you that he enjoyed the quiet, and that you were relaxing to be around. Having gradually gathered bits and pieces of his past through the various off-handed remarks that Xina had made about his parents, you’d taken that as an utmost compliment. He was, truly, a sweetheart beneath all those bristles he brandished to most. He trusted next to no one, but was loyal to a fault to those select few that he did.

Your best friend’s boyfriend had weaseled his way into your heart, you’d had to admit, and had wormed into your good graces. Over time, you’d learned his eccentricities and mannerisms and colloquialisms. You’d gotten used to him. You’d grown comfortable around him. You’d go so far as to say that you’d liked him, too.

Then he’d cheated with his brother’s girl, a stunt just like you’d initially feared.

You kept your promise. When he’d stopped by the dorm (while Xina was out—the point of which had been clearly made to assure lack of contact on both of their parts) to exchange the meager few belongings of hers that had ended up at his place with his own, you’d broken his nose with a solid jab that he hadn’t even had a chance to block due to his surprise. Luckily, he had set the box down first, and your rage had delayed just long enough to make sure nothing of Xina’s was broken in the process.

He’d bled all over the front of his shirt. You’d shoved a wad of toilet tissue into his sticky, crimson-stained hands, and with stinging eyes and a tight throat you’d slammed the door shut in his teary, crestfallen face.

You didn’t see him for a long time after that. Xina had buckled down and nearly worked herself to death to finish her classes and graduated early. You’d followed the year after her, transitioning into Alchemax’s robotics department, specializing in nanotech, but flexible enough that you ended up working all over the department when the various teams needed an extra set of hands. You’d secured a lease on a nice apartment thanks to your wages, had caught your future by the tail, and had settled in to enjoy your newfound independence and freedom.

Miguel had shown up on your doorstep a couple of years later holding a box brimming with tamales and a bottle of your favorite wine a couple of years later, eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot, overall looking like the definition—the epitome—of shattered.

You’d almost turned him away—had almost laughed about how karma was a bitch—but the half-circle bruises under his eyes, the welling split in his lip, and the tears gathering on his lash line as he’d croaked out a hoarse and utterly pitiful, “I really fucked up, pastelita**,” had stayed your instinctual cruelty.

So, with an exasperated sigh, you’d stepped away from the doorpost to gesture him inside. Within minutes, he’d set himself down on the very edge of the end of the couch, shoulders hunched in and downwards, knees clamped together to take up as little space as possible while you’d brought a couple of chipped coffee mugs from your cabinet into which to pour the borderline cloyingly sweet strawberry wine. He hadn’t touched any of the tamales until you’d demolished three, but you’d been able to tell that he was only eating to have something on his stomach. He’d looked ill, and if it weren’t for his confession you’d have been pressing the back of your palm to that massive forehead of his.

Dana had flipped the script on him—had grown bored of the lack of thrill for the affair once Gabriel had caught wind and cut all ties to leave her with his older brother in favor of pursuing an older, richer man further up the hierarchy at Alchemax—and Miguel had no one else to whom he could turn to wallow in his sorrows.

You hadn’t given him an inch. You’d told him just what he’d done to Xina, how you hadn’t had a full conversation with her beyond a handful of texts in the last six months because she’d buried herself so deeply in her work so she wouldn’t have to think about how she felt. You’d told him how big of a dick he’d been to ruin the trust not only for his childhood best friend and girlfriend, but also his brother. You’d told him that you were still pissed enough now, a couple of years later, that he was lucky he wasn’t getting a full sixteen ounces of fermented fruit juice in the eyes. You’d told him that he’d hurt you, too, because you’d ended up losing both of the only friends you’d ever managed to make that had tolerated you enough to keep you around in the process.

He’d taken it all with a lowered gaze but in good faith. He’d admitted that he’d done wrong, and that he’d never be able to truly forgive himself for it. He’d said that he deserved every bit of misfortunate that had riddled his life ever since he’d made that irreparable mistake. He’d also told you that he’d reached out to Xina in attempts to make amends, and had at least convinced her to talk for a few minutes to let her know how sorry he was, that he didn’t expect her to forgive him, and that he would like to make it up to her by remaining friends on somewhat good terms if she wanted.

That had surprised you. Miguel didn’t admit he was wrong. Ever. That he’d go so far as to give someone room to think that indefinitely had proven to you then and there and he had actually realized how badly he’d made a mess of things and had genuinely wanted to change his trajectory.

So you’d shared your homemade salsa with him, had watched at least seven more tamales disappear down his ravenous gullet, and had told him that you could make them better with an arm tied behind your back and blindfolded. You’d managed to leverage a wet, quiet chuckle out of him when you’d told him how ugly he was when he cried—which was really a complete, bald-faced lie. You’d never seen a man look more gorgeous than Miguel O’Hara sobbing into a mug comically small clutched in his mitt of a hand stating proudly in gold calligraphy on a turquoise glaze that, ‘I’m too cute to compute,’ about how uncertain he was that he’d ever be able to fix everything good in his life that he’d broken with his stupidity and recklessness.

You’d bundled him up in your favorite, heaviest blanket after three mugs of wine and had tipped him over to stretch across the woefully ill-fitting length of your couch well past midnight. You’d shoved a pillow under his head, had pulled off his shoes (with his feet dangling off the opposite arm, it only made him look twice as tall), and had slept in the armchair next to him so he wouldn’t wake up alone.

Perhaps you’d been too easy on him. Perhaps you shouldn’t have entertained him after everything he’d done, much less forgive him after one sob story. But you’d missed him, too—like crazy, like hell. You’d missed his sullen pouts at being teased about his forehead and his stupid jokes about mitochondria and the way his smile was just a bit too wide and lopsided, like he didn’t know how to measure it once someone did manage to crack his solemn facade.

You’d called Xina the next morning to explain your end of the story (whatever details Miguel had elected to share with you, even while intoxicated, you held in strict confidence—just like hers were secrets you’d carry to your grave). She’d sighed and said she knew everything, and that she didn’t want to have drama. It would take a long time for them to salvage their relationship and reconcile, but she’d admitted that she’d missed him, too, and just wanted him back as one of her best friends.

Miguel had spent significantly more time with you after that. He came over with food after work once he’d made sure you were home, fussing you right out of the kitchen and letting you pick whatever the pair of you would watch—even if he sighed when you would, inevitably, pick another romcom from a century prior.

It had been a slow process, patching those wounds. Miguel had changed a lot in the time you’d lost, had matured more than you’d ever imagined he would. He cleared the air with Gabriel, and that Christmas all four of you spent the holidays comfortably together eating too many sweets and exchanging gifts. You baked him pan dulce and he brought you cinnamon rolls that he’d made all by himself—although they had been a bit gooey, not quite baked long enough, you’d eaten half the pan yourself.

A year passed. Things got easier. You had no longer felt anxious, hurt, or resentful upon seeing him walk through the door—excitement, affection, and fondness took their places instead. He had made amends as best as he was able, working endlessly to patch up the wounds he’d so carelessly inflicted while also fixing his own issues to prevent it from happening again.

…He’d confessed his feelings for you entirely by accident. It had just slipped one night, after a few too many drinks and continuous bumping into each other while washing and drying and storing the dishes, that he’d liked you for a long time—since he’d met you, really—and he wouldn’t have added the fact that him seeking your company had long since slipped from avoiding loneliness into wanting to stay close to you if you hadn’t nearly pried the words from his clenched jaw with increasingly creative and outlandish threats of nonviolence.

He had intended to never say a word, you’d learned. After everything he’d done and gone through, he’d convinced himself that he was undeserving of love and utterly incapable of nurturing it into anything remotely palpable, healthy, and long-term. He was terrified of losing for good what little bit of love that he’d managed to salvage from the only people he’d had in his life that genuinely cared for him unconditionally, having already ruined his first serious relationship with a night of foolhardy negligence. Despite his ardent adoration of you and how you had changed his flaws into virtues, he had resigned himself to remaining your friend for the rest of his list so he would never risk fucking up his chances at happiness again—he would have taken that to the grave, had his restraint not wavered with your nonchalant, half-teasing confession of him being the most important—and favorite—person in your life.

(Except it hadn’t been a joke. You’d realized, in the span of a breath after you’d uttered those baring words, that it was entirely true—even your close friendship with Xina paled in comparison for the bond that you and Miguel had painstakingly built throughout the trials and crises you’d faced together. Despite his grievous errors, he’d remained steadfast in the face of resolving them—a trait so rarely seen that you’d stood by his side in support without question.)

In a blind panic at your prolonged, shocked silence, he’d thus fallen into a continuous spiel that contained more words than he’d ever spoken throughout your entire acquaintance combined. He vomited his childhood traumas and adolescent hardships and formative follies up as if he were lancing an infected wound, and the underlying explanations behind his personality, behavior, and insecurities became all too apparent in that moment. It didn’t excuse any of his actions, by any means—he’d acknowledged that much vehemently without you even having to open your mouth—and he’d known that he would never truly be able to reconcile all the shit he’d brought upon himself, which had resulted, in turn, in him inflicting misery and heartache upon others entirely undeserving of it. He’d apologized profusely for every slight he’d made at you, had begged that you disregard him ever having said those three damning words in order for everything to stay as it was, to go back to normal, so he wouldn’t lose you, too, for a second time.

…He had never been anyone’s favorite in his entire life. That idea had broken your heart.

But it had been a lot to swallow all at once, too. You’d shoved an ice cube into his mouth to calm his hammering heart and to stifle his anxious rambling, as well as to give yourself a couple of minutes to regather your bearings. You hadn’t been able to form a coherent thought, much to your chagrin—too caught up in the all-to-recent memory of him gazing down at you with such softness and reverence that one would have thought that you had strung up the constellations before murmuring with as much conviction as one would a benediction, “I love you,” emblazoned onto the backs of your eyelids and ringing in your ears.

Once the ice cube had melted, he’d tried to start talking again. You’d hushed him by placing your fingertips over his chapped, chewed lips and saying softly, “I love you, too, tonto.* I have for a while, I just…didn’t know how I felt about it, and wasn’t sure about bringing it up.” You’d cupped his jaw, then, and had stroked the pad of your thumb along the crease of his gaping mouth.

The wake of his relief had crashed over him so hard that he’d cried. You’d armed him up as best as you were able, given your size difference, and had held him until he’d soaked your shoulder, rubbing his back in soothing circles all the while. You’d never felt more at ease in someone’s embrace as you had with him, despite the emotional turmoil involved and the uncertainties the pair of you now faced.

But, as before, you’d worked through the complications together. Xina and Gabe had both supported you, after a bit of surprise (and exchanging money not-so-subtly under the table the next time you all had gotten together for dinner—Gabriel complaining about being out fifty dollars falling short of Xina’s smug, knowing look had not gone unnoticed). Dating felt no different from the comfortable, borderline domestic rhythm you’d already—unwittingly—fallen into that past year since his plea for mercy, except that he now had no holds barred around you.

While you’d suspected that he’d never be big on PDA or sweet nothings, Miguel had shown his ardency for you in other ways. All the issues with your apartment magically resolved themselves whenever you’d complain about them. Your closets, cabinets, and pantry had stayed stocked even when you ran out of time to make grocery runs after grueling nights at the lab. He’d insisted on paying for everything, had hardly ever let you lift a finger, and had spoiled you absolutely rotten. He’d done his damnedest to redeem the second chance that you’d granted him, and you’d been a little amazed at how seriously he had taken the whole affair.

Xina hadn’t been miffed about it in the slightest. “He’s a different man, now—a better man,” she’d told you, “and you’re to thank for that. I never could get through to him like you can, and that’s okay. It’s wonderful, actually. I’m so proud of him and I’m so, so very happy for you. You deserve the world and I think he’s doing his best to give it to you…if you’ll let him try.”

Your strict intolerance for his vices had polished off his roughened edges with friction. Your high expectations had driven up the standards he’d long since set for himself. Your hopes had helped him to accept what he had thought were his weaker qualities, but were, in fact, what you had considered his greatest strengths. You’d mended his aching soul and he had given you everything that you could ever have asked for in return.

The wedding had been a cozy, intimate affair. The honeymoon, despite the lavish PTO and cushiony funds you’d both accrued over the course of your shared workaholic employment, hadn’t lasted nearly long enough, in your opinion. Finding a penthouse to lease together with your joint salaries afforded you a breathtaking view of Nueva York in the mornings and evenings, and after a short time it had become a home.

You were thankful to have experienced all the good times, as well as the bad. You would’ve endured those tragedies all over again to experience that devoted love once more.

You still missed your husband like hell some days, though. Much of your life now had grown around the grief that used to suffocate you, gently laying over tender roots for new experiences, but there were still times that you had to spritz his old pillow with his slowly diminishing bottle of cologne and recluse yourself inside your bedroom until the ache loosened enough for you to rise and greet the life you now had to live without him. You no longer felt the urge to visit his grave anymore, except for his birthday and your anniversary, however, knowing that he wasn’t truly there, but in your heart—and you considered that the ultimate step forward.

You wondered at the odd twist of fate, though, to be tossed by sheer chance into a league of multidimensional Spider-People like yourself, led by a copy of the man whom you’d have sacrificed your own life in exchange for his (and still would without question nor consideration). You saw much of that initially wounded, derisive man in this new Miguel—but instead of ever finding healing and bettering himself, he had seemingly gotten worse. (Or something had made him worse. You were uncertain of which was the case.)

You couldn’t entirely blame him for it. While he hadn’t revealed the details (and was under no obligations to do so whatsoever), you’d gotten enough of the gist that he’d struggled through some horrific circumstances…and had just barely made it out the other side, if your perception of his underlying misery was to be believed.

He softened up somewhat after that raw, quiet conversation in his lab, at least with you. He no longer acted as though he walked on eggshells around you—no longer rigid and on edge when you were remotely close to his proximity. He wasn’t as guarded, either, relaxing just enough to reveal his calmer, quieter nature. Being the leader of the Society was tedious, stressful, endless work, and having to wrangle so many odds and ends ranging from mischievous to volatile would render anyone’s nerves to short fuses. You figured out that he’d whittled himself down to the bone, yet refused to accept any help from the likes of his most valued associates, despite Jess and Peter B.’s prodding and insistence otherwise.

So, since you hadn’t been around long enough to even know where to start making headway in the mountain of anomalous analytics or projection reports with which he had to deal with every day, you opted to try to help him in the few areas where you confidently could.

You coaxed him out to grab meals in the cafeteria when LYLA told you he’d been cooped up in his lab alone for too long, you organized his tools and things when he did happen to be out so he’d have a clean and tidy workspace to come back to, and you continued your accidentally established tradition of bringing him a sweet upon your daily deliveries of leftover baked goods from your shop every evening. He’d started to grumble at you about the lattermost habit, remarking that he had a strict diet that he’d maximized for his metabolism and physical activity, but you’d told him that the treats wouldn’t stay on his physique as busy as he stayed.

“In fact,” you’d argued playfully, “I think it’s been doing wonders for improving your mood. The newbies aren’t running for the hills whenever you walk through the foyer anymore.”

He’d stopped bringing it up after that, didn’t quibble with you about it anymore, and you’d noticed that the corner of his mouth had started to pinch when you’d press the crinkling sack into his not-so-reluctantly awaiting palm. You hoped that it was a restricted smile and not a grimace, like you had feared initially.

(…Had he ever smiled around you? You couldn’t recall a single instance of it happening. You’d have to work on rectifying that.)

You enjoyed learning about the other Spiders, too. Nothing fascinated you more than to delve into deep discussions about the state of their respective universes—the time periods, technology, and history all relative to yours—as well as their personal differences. To all be the same type of hero, you were amazed by how vastly different each and every single one was. All were bound, however, by a common story, punctuated by tragedies that defined every purpose.

You still hadn’t been able to figure out this Miguel, though. You would never intentionally pry into his story, even though he had consented to his bio to be uploaded to the Society’s network for transparency’s sake—you felt that it was something he would tell you personally if it was that important, or if he trusted you enough to be inclined to do so. You were vastly curious about his physiological characteristics, however, so you’d spent an entire afternoon mentally compiling a comparison and contrast between your late husband and what you had gathered about his multidimensional counterpart.

Taller, bulkier, with all the added traits of spider-abilities overwhelmingly evident, but the same features otherwise. Red eyes with perfect vision that seemed extremely sensitive to light (the only explanation for why he kept his lab so damned dark all the time, and also how he could read with perfect clarity from so far away). Fangs and talons that could tear through just about anything. Same frown when concentrating on something, same sullen pout when teased. More soft-spoken, significantly shorter in patience and temper, extremely antisocial…that lattermost fact, at least, remained exactly the same. In so many ways, he was still the person you had known best, even if he wasn’t yours.

You decided soon enough that, despite the rocky start of your acquaintance, that if no one else would get through to him, you’d do your damnedest to try breaking down the walls he’d so meticulously built up around himself. It was the least you could do, by helping to mend another version of him back together again, to repay your husband—the man you’d loved most—for giving you the best years of your comparatively drab and lonely life, even if this Miguel were to fight you tooth and nail every step of the way. He deserved to be safe and sound just like everyone else ever did.

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allmoshnobrain · 3 months ago

Note

Hi love!! Since requests are open, can I request Cronos trying to out-drink the reader but she manages to out-drink him and he’s super impressed? Thank you!

🌻🌻

𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

cronos (venom) x fem!reader | word count: 2,6k | requests are open! send yours here

“Yeah?” he chuckled, seemingly unfazed by your annoyance. “Why don’t you prove it then, love?” Oh, you thought. He’s not the type who likes being challenged. Somehow, that information piqued your interest. You looked at him, your eyes meeting for a moment as the smile on his lips grew a bit more mischievous; was he playing with you?

✦ on this fic: cronos (venom) x fem!reader, language, drinking

✦ a/n: i've been DYING to write for cronos for a while and i'm glad i finally did! this was such a fun request and honestly i'm kind of in love with him on this one lol i may make this an au bc i already have a few ideas for future parts so requests and suggestions are appreciated. hope you guys like it! ❤

You had to admit; going back home from uni for your first holidays felt a bit weird.

Not because anything had changed back home, but because you felt like a totally different person than you were just a few months ago, before you’d left. Plus, bringing your best mate Laura to meet your family had to be a bit unusual, right? But Laura’s parents were too busy traveling the world without her again, so you just had to do something. That’s just how you were.

Of course, being home meant one thing: dealing with your older twin brother, Philip. Which wasn’t all bad, except for that lovely old rivalry that made you compete over pretty much everything. You just hoped the days at home would be a nice mix of peace and fun. You needed a break, after all.

You should’ve known it wouldn’t be that simple.

“Hey, there!” your brother called out as you walked in, a half-empty beer bottle in hand. You could hear the TV blaring from the living room, probably a sports match. “Was starting to think you wouldn’t show up.”

“Yeah, our bus got delayed,” you said. “This is Laura, by the way,” you added, pointing to your friend, who gave your brother a shy smile. You frowned, noticing Philip seemed to be home alone. “So, where’s Mum and Dad?”

“Oh, they haven’t told you? They’re on a business trip, but they’ll be back by Monday,” Philip said casually, and you sighed. Well, they could’ve mentioned it, but Monday wasn’t that far off. It was Saturday morning, so you’d only have to wait two days to see your parents again. “They asked me to tell you to ring them as soon as you got home, though. I’ve got their hotel number.”

“Okay, will do. Just let me and Laura take our bags upstairs and change into something more comfy.”

“Oh, and…” Philip hesitated, and you looked at him, an eyebrow raised. You just knew when your brother talked like that, it meant trouble. “Uh, I’ve invited some of the boys over today for a small, like, party? If that’s alright.”

“Phil, what the hell? A party?” you exclaimed. “Have you told Mum and Dad?”

“Course not,” he snorted. “Come on, it’ll be fun. You and Laura can join in. I told them I’d have some hot birds over anyway.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you shoved him softly before heading for the stairs. “I’m not cleaning up any of your mates’ mess, you hear me?”

“Love you too,” he yelled as you walked upstairs. You rolled your eyes, and Laura giggled.

“What?” you asked, and she shrugged.

“You two are cute,” she smiled, and you huffed. “So, guess we’re having a party tonight, then?”

“Looks like we’ve got no choice,” you mumbled.

“Come on, it’s not like you don’t enjoy a good party yourself! It can’t be that bad, can it?” she tried to cheer you up. You sighed.

“Ugh, it’s just… I was expecting to get home, see Mum and Dad, maybe watch some chick flicks and eat some ice cream. Not to have loud music and drinks all night. I’m still knackered from our last pub crawl, alright?”

“Alright, grumpy,” Laura chuckled. “You should definitely grab something to eat. I know a hungry girl when I see one.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. You knew Laura was right — you were knackered, but after a hot shower and some food, you’d probably get excited about the party later. Even though your brother’s friends were… chaotic, at best. Phil worked at a small music venue across town, so most of his friends were into the music scene in some way, which made for quite the interesting crowd.

The day flew by, and before you knew it, people started showing up at your place. You and Laura were finishing getting ready when you heard the familiar sound of distorted guitars coming from downstairs. You should’ve known a party with Phil’s friends would be a heavy metal one.

“What’s that racket?” Laura asked, looking shocked by your brother’s musical tastes, which made you chuckle.

“Heavy metal. Phil’s a fan, you know,” you said, focusing on finishing your eyeliner. You watched Laura’s reflection as she rummaged through her luggage. “Hope you like Iron Maiden.”

When you finally got downstairs, the house was already packed. You sighed, biting your lower lip softly as you searched for your older brother in the growing crowd. If he was going to throw a party on your first day back from uni, you hoped he at least had the sense to get you something to drink.

You found him in the kitchen, laughing loudly with two guys you’d never seen before. One was blonde, with a mustache and a cigarette in hand, while the other was this tall, dark-haired guy with massive arms, leaning against the wall. He looked up when you walked in, and your eyes met for a brief moment, but you ignored him, heading straight for your brother.

“Oi, fuckhead,” you called out, and Phil raised an eyebrow. “What kind of party has no booze?”

“Oh, so now you’re in a partying mood?” he grinned. “Course we got drinks. You think we’d have a party without any booze, especially with this lad?” He slapped the dark-haired guy’s shoulder, who chuckled, his eyes meeting yours for a moment again. “He’s the biggest drinker I know!”

“You’re joking, right?” Laura cut in, and Phil looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “You’re saying he’s the biggest drinker you know when your sister’s right here?”

“Laura!” you exclaimed, feeling your cheeks flush.

“What? You’re the biggest drinker I know, no contest. No one can compete with you at a party, girl.”

“Nice to know that,” Phil said, and you looked back at him, seeing a cheeky smile on his lips that made you huff and roll your eyes. “I wonder what Mum and Dad would think of that, eh?”

“You’re not telling them, unless you want me to spill about your little party,” you grumbled.

“Yeah, well, I’m not telling them because I don’t believe it,” he teased. “No way you’re a bigger drinker than Cronos.”

Cronos. That was a curious name, but you figured it had to be a stage name, right? No way someone would actually be called that. You bit your lower lip, frowning. With the way Phil was sucking up, you knew the guy had to be someone important, at least in the metal scene. Maybe he was a musician? He definitely looked the type.

“Come on, mate,” the dark-haired guy, Cronos, finally spoke, a small smile on his lips. You could tell he was loving the attention your brother was giving him, which only made you more annoyed. “No need to put your sis down because of me.”

“You don’t need to defend me,” you blurted out, and Cronos raised an eyebrow. “Phil’s just being his usual daft self,” you looked at your brother, who scoffed at you. “Besides, I’m probably a better drinker than you, anyway.”

“Yeah?” he chuckled, seemingly unfazed by your annoyance. “Why don’t you prove it then, love?”

Oh, you thought. He’s not the type who likes being challenged. Somehow, that information piqued your interest. You looked at him, your eyes meeting for a moment as the smile on his lips grew a bit more mischievous; was he playing with you?

“Is this a dare?” you asked.

“If you say so,” he said, his grin widening.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Laura giggled. “So, are we having a drinking contest or what?”

“Alright,” Phil grinned in that oh-boy-you’re-so-gonna-lose way that always wound you up when he dared you to do something. “I’ll get the glasses and the beer.”

You waited while Phil rummaged around the kitchen for some pint glasses and got everything sorted. You bit your lip, trying to stop the blush creeping onto your cheeks as you felt Cronos’ eyes on you. Maybe you shouldn’t have challenged him — you barely knew the man. But Phil’s endless ways of winding you up made it hard not to. Your annoyance often spilled over onto his loud friends, his loud music, his loud everything. You loved your brother, sure, but sometimes it felt like he still saw you as the shy little kid you used to be.

And you were ready to prove him wrong again.

“Right, here we go,” Phil said, plonking two pint glasses on the table, then cracking open a beer and pouring it into one of them. “How about we bet on who finishes these first? Winner gets, I don’t know, we’ll think about something.”

“Maybe the loser should have to do anything the winner wants,” Cronos suggested, that same cheeky grin on his face. The way he said it made your cheeks burn, and you rolled your eyes as Laura giggled.

“Mate, if you’re trying to pull my sister, you’ll need a better plan,” Phil laughed. “Good luck getting her to do anything after she loses to you.”

“Can you stop talking about me like I’m not here?” you snapped, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks. “Besides, I’m not losing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Phil said, waving you off as he finished pouring the beers. “Well, here we go. Grab your glasses, everyone, this is gonna be fun!”

You grabbed your pint glass, feeling the cold against your palm. You knew being the fastest drinker didn’t really mean being the biggest drinker, but you weren’t about to lose to Phil and his stupid rivalry, his stupid parties, and his stupid friends. You wanted to win, to wipe that cheeky grin off his face — and Cronos’ face too. If he thought he could use you for a laugh, he had another thing coming. It was time to channel every bit of determination and experience you’d gained in the drinking department since starting uni and win this.

“Ready… Set… Go!” Phil yelled, and you quickly lifted the glass to your lips. You closed your eyes, trying to down as much beer as you could, as fast as you could. You could hear Laura cheering you on, and, as quickly as it had started, it was over. You slammed the empty glass down, trying to catch your breath as you wiped off some of the beer that had dribbled down your chin, a triumphant smile spreading across your face as you saw Cronos finishing his beer — a good ten seconds after you.

“Ha!” you shouted, looking at Phil. “Told you I’d win! Maybe next time don’t use your mates to try and beat me.”

“Oh, shut it,” Phil grumbled. “Never knew going to uni would turn you into a lush.”

“You’re such a sore loser,” you laughed.

“It’s alright, mate,” Cronos cut in, putting a hand on Phil’s shoulder. He looked at you, the cheeky grin now gone, replaced by an impressed look in his eyes. “Your sister’s cool, you know? Maybe you should be a bit nicer to her.”

You and Phil stared at him, surprised. You could see Phil was also a bit miffed that his friend was taking your side, but hey, you weren’t going to complain when Phil’s antics had been winding you up all day.

“Yeah, whatever,” Phil grumbled and stomped out of the kitchen. You rolled your eyes — he was probably off to sulk somewhere, and you weren’t about to chase after him. Sometimes it felt like you were the older one, not him.

You looked around the kitchen, trying to spot Laura and ask if she fancied going somewhere else — maybe to a pub. But then you realized she wasn’t in the kitchen anymore. Neither was the blonde guy you’d seen around with Phil and Cronos earlier.

Suddenly, it was just you and him.

“So,” Cronos said, and you quickly looked up at him, blushing when he stepped closer. “What do you want me to do?”

“W... What?” you stammered, and he chuckled.

“I said whoever lost should do whatever the winner wanted, didn’t I? You won.”

“I don’t want anything. It was just a stupid game,” you said, and he chuckled.

“You sure about that?” he asked, and you blushed as he took another step. He was tall, much taller than you, and the way he moved nearer made your heart race a bit faster. You’d found him annoying pretty much from the get-go, just like you always did with Phil’s friends, but now that he was closer you could notice the curve of his lips and the way his eyes sparkled with a playful, almost tender glint.

Maybe necking all that beer at once wasn’t the best idea, after all.

“You could tell me your name,” you said, more to break the silence than anything. He blinked, looking a bit confused, and you chuckled nervously. “I mean, is it really Cronos? That’s such a different name.”

“Oh. Oh, no, that’s a stage name,” he laughed. You could see the cheeky grin soften into something a bit more genuine for a moment — still playful, but more real. It made you curious again, wanting to know more about him. “I’m in a band, you know. My real name’s Conrad.”

“That’s a cool name, too,” you said, and he smiled.

“You sure you don’t want anything else?” he asked, his voice almost hopeful, making you blush. Well, you were on your own in the kitchen, weren’t you? For a moment, you wondered what might happen if you asked him to…

No. What the hell were you thinking?

“I’m good,” you mumbled, your cheeks burning.

“Alright then,” he said, and you let out a small sigh as he stepped back. “I’m heading back to the party to grab something stronger. Fancy coming with?”

“Yeah, sure. I need to track down Laura anyway,” you agreed, then paused before looking at him. “Um, it was nice meeting you.”

“Likewise,” he grinned. You felt your heart race when he placed a hand on the small of your back. “Shall we?”

You headed back into the living room, which was now packed. The place was definitely heaving. Cronos gave you a grin before joining his friends, and you scanned the room until you spotted Laura, sitting on the couch with a polite but bored smile while some long-haired guy chatted her up.

“Oh, my friend’s back!” she said when she spotted you. She stood up and linked her arm with yours. “Sorry, I’ve gotta run. Nice chat!” she added, and you bit back a laugh at the look of frustration on the guy’s face.

“You left the poor man hanging,” you said, and she giggled.

“Oh, he started going on and on about his favorite band as soon as I mentioned I didn’t know them,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Are all your brother’s friends like this?”

“Not all of them,” you replied, glancing up to see Cronos laughing loudly with his blonde friend. Laura’s eyes followed yours, and she grinned.

“So?” she asked, her voice full of expectation. “Did you two kiss or what?”

“Did we what? What are you talking about?” you asked, blushing, and she laughed.

“Seriously, did you not see the way he was eyeing you up? That’s why I left you alone — thought he might’ve tried to kiss you or something.”

You blinked, shocked. It’s not like you hadn’t noticed his clear interest in you, but you thought maybe he was just curious. Curious like you were about him — you could tell he was an interesting guy. But you obviously didn’t expect him to be into you, even though the way he had looked at you while you were alone made your stomach flutter with unexpected butterflies.

“Don’t be silly, Laura. Of course we didn’t kiss,” you muttered.

But when he glanced over at you from across the room and your eyes met, you couldn’t help but maybe wish he had.

Wouldn’t be wrong to have just a taste, would it?

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