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ifonlyyuweremine · 5 months ago

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Captain’s Girl. [Part I]

John Price x Reader (Call of Duty)

Synopsis: After Laswell pitches you a favor to join 141, you're left with no choice but to accept. The only problem arises when you and the Captain start to butt heads, but if the two of you hate each other as much as you say, then why is the rest of the team calling you his girl?

Tags: Enemies to lovers, tension, military romance, forbidden love, smut, fighting, secret feelings, slow burn.

Word count? You know the drill, it’s long.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

‘Captain John Price.’ You skimmed the document again, his name catching your eye for the third or fourth time. The black ink seemed to bleed together against the crisp paper of your enrollment documents into Special Forces Task Force 141. It was a promotion, and an honor at that, special forces to begin with were selective.

But 141 was almost unheard of, a combination of British special forces and American special forces. They were one of the best, and you were about to become a part of it. You read the documents again.

‘All personnel will be working under John Price and answering to Kate Laswell, respectively-’ Your eyes trailed further along the mess of columned words, making sense of the legality aspects of transferring to a new team. You hadn't expected to be transferred over, not until Kate had contacted you with an offer. You could tell she was put under pressure by the way her voice strained against the receiver…

“Look, I need you here. Ever since Shepard went rogue, we've been a bit tight over here. John has stepped in as commanding officer; technically, we already have a sharpshooter on 141. But we could use a hand, just until we sort out our bearings. Then, if you'd like, I can transfer you back to your current team…”

You'd raised an eyebrow, “Laswell, you're acting like I'm the only one who can fill these shoes. Why don't you hire a private contractor from KorTac? I'm sure they have more experience anyway.” You heard her blow out air from her nose, amused. “[Name], I don't think I have to tell you how much these guys hate private contractors. We need someone who can work as a collective team, you know… integrate themselves for the time being.”

You pursed your lips together, weighing out the pros and cons. However, Laswell was one of the best people you had ever met, a long-time friend since the baby days of your recruitment. She was a woman of her word, and she had your back. And if she said this team needed someone, she was being serious. You sighed, leaning back, “Okay, send me the details, Laswell. I'll think about it.”

…You read the contract one last time; it was simple enough. You would be transferred to 141 at the end of the month; it was a year-long contract. Which, in a way, made you a private contractor, too. The rest of 141 was under the impression that you were there to stay, everyone except the Captain and, of course, Laswell, not that she was on 141. If they decided they didn't need you before the contract ended, you could pick to stay for the remainder of the year or transfer back to your original task force.

A sigh left your mouth; you picked up your pen and flipped to the last page. Etching your signature into the blank line. You had till the end of the month; as of that moment, you were officially a member of 141.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Well, you had to give Laswell credit where credit was due. It had been a few weeks since your arrival and you fit in quite smoothly into 141; you believe she called it “integrating.” To nobody's surprise, the team was almost entirely men, aside from Ferrah, who was stationed elsewhere. It hadn't been long since your arrival until you were bound to run into someone; Jhonny was the first…

It was later in the day and you were wandering about; transferring to a new location was something you never got used to, so you tried to get a head start on mapping out the place. Everything was similar to your last base, but you still felt a bit alien. A small room tucked off to the side caught your eye, and you followed in that direction. It was a small break room, a kitchen, and a fridge tucked away in the side; there were a few cupboards and a single run-down couch.

You mosied over to the kitchen, opening cupboards and looking inside drawers. You found the usual silverware, mugs, napkins, junk, and tea bags. You stopped; tea actually sounded pretty good. Sitting on the counter was one of those electric tea kettles; you reached for it.

Waiting until the water was boiling, you grabbed the first mug you saw in the cupboard. As you dipped one of the tea bags into the scalding liquid, the door handle jostled across the room. You heard him before you saw him; his voice was deep, a bit raspy, with a thick Scottish accent. Walking through the door came a man dressed in sweatpants and a military-issued shirt. His head was shaved aside from a cropped mohawk of brown hair. His face was pulled into a subtle frown with his eyebrows furrowed. A phone pressed against his head by his shoulder.

You locked eyes with him, the pale spheres of his eyes boring into yours. You could tell he was studying you, maybe trying to deduce if he had seen you before or if you were a stranger. Suddenly, you heard muffled talking coming from the receiver of his phone. You looked down at your tea, not wanting to be considered rude for staring.

The man's voice came again, but it was almost unreadable. It was like a different language, probably Scottish, and then it stopped. When you looked back up, he was standing a few feet away from you, reaching into one of the cupboards.

“Sisters.”

You blinked; it took you a moment to understand he was talking to you. “I-What?” You asked, caught off guard by his comment. He looked back at you, holding up his phone. “S’who I was talking to.” Your eyebrows furrowed, and you nodded slowly; it was an odd way of making conversation. “Oh, okay…You uh- don't look too happy about it, family troubles?” You asked, his lips cracked into a soft smile, and he shook his head. “Nah, she's just a bit dafty. She's auld, so she feels the need to boss me around from time to time.”

You nodded along, trying to use context clues to understand some of his choice words. You watched him fill his mug with some water you had just boiled. “Ah, I see. I'm not sure I can relate; I'm the oldest sibling, so maybe I do all the bossing around.” He nodded, one of his thick eyebrows rasing, “How many siblings?”

You smiled, “Just two, a brother and sister.” The man hummed, looking down at his tea. “Gotcha…” A silence enveloped the room, and after another agonizing moment, he spoke up again. “You a new hire around here? Can't say I would forget a face like yours, lass.” You nodded, glad that the silence had been put to rest, a smile growing on your face at his comment. “Yeah, new transfer to 141.” Suddenly, his eyes grew more comprehensive, “You're the newbie?” He said, astonished.

You chuckled softly, “I wouldn't say newbie; I'm just a transfer from another unit.” His face cracked into a grin, “No kidding, apologies, didn't mean to come off as rude.” He held his hand out to you, “Johnny McTavish, team calls me Soap.”

Your eyebrows raised, “You're a part of 141?” His smile didn't fade as he nodded, “Aye, sharpshooter and sniper.” You felt a grin creeping up on your face; this Soap guy was friendly. Way friendlier than you thought the people on 141 would be. “I’m [Name]. I'm also a sharpshooter, but I also work with mechanics and firearms. Soap is…uh pretty interesting call sign, any meaning behind it?” You saw something in his eye; maybe it was pride, or perhaps something more sinister, “Well, when you clean out a room as fast as I do, people notice. You ain't got a callsign, Bonnie?”

You shook your head, “No, I guess my name has always just done the job.” Soap pat you on the shoulder, “Don’t worry, we’ll get you one.” You and Soap just talked for the next few minutes; it was nice. The conversation ebbed and flowed without problem; he nodded to the door after your tea was nearly empty. “Aye, Bonnie, why don’t I take you to meet the rest of the team? Give you a head start on the meet and greet.”

You smiled, “Yeah, why not?”

…The more time you spent with the team, the easier it got; it helped that they made good conversation. Jhonny was…well, Johnny, good sense of humor but never knew when to quit. Ghost was quieter; he didn't trust you immediately, but you'd managed to pull a few chuckles from him and the occasional polite conversation.

Kyle Garrick, or ‘Gaz,’ was an all-around good guy, funny, polite, and incredibly talented. You could never get over the time that you had gotten drunk off your ass, and Ghost told you a story of when Gaz fell out from a helicopter and was shooting at people while he was swinging from the airborne vehicle.

And then there was Price. Captain John Price, you'd met Price a day after Soap introduced you to the rest of the boys. To say the atmosphere was tense between you would be an understatement. From the minute he laid his eyes on you, they went stiff. His whole demeanor around you reminded you of a rock; it was like he didn't even want you on the team. His voice went curt, and whenever you spoke, his eyes bore holes into your head like he wanted to shoot lasers into your brain by just staring.

You'd talk about it to the rest of the team, but they shrugged it off. “Maybe he ain't used to you yet; it takes a while for the lad to trust anyone. He usually puts on the tough guy act for new recruits.” Ghost had said; Jhonny snorted at that. “Tough guy act? Dinnae, nothing bout that; when I first joined, the man made me want to pull out my hair. Think that's more than a tough guy act L.T.”

Usually, this wouldn't have bothered you as much as it did. But for some odd reason, he got under your skin like nobody else could. And believe, you were no stranger to difficult co-workers and bosses. Even worse, your first interaction with him was incredibly awkward, and you couldn't have left a good impression even if you had tried. It was almost etched into your mind like a stone tablet…

It was your last day to set up, get used to the team and your surroundings before you started working. The three days you had to relax were mostly spent either in the base gym, or eating in the cafeteria. What could you say, you were a creature of habit.

Until this point, you had met almost the entire team besides the captain. Technically, you weren’t required to meet him until you started working, but you'd already met everyone else. So, you figured it wouldn't hurt to get acquainted. You pried the information about Price’s whereabouts from Gaz: “I haven't seen him up and about today; usually, he's around. It probably means he's hauled up in his piss-poor office. The guy hates it there but usually locks himself up there when he's in a bad mood or has paperwork.”

Despite his warning, you went ahead and searched for Price’s office. That was mistake number one. After a minute or two of searching, you came across a door with the engraving “Price” carved into the wood in neat lettering. You reached for the door and tried to turn the handle, but nothing. It was locked; you frowned and tried again. But to nobody's surprise, the door remained shut.

So, you resorted to the next best thing. You knocked a few times but were met with radio silence. Maybe he wasn't in there, you chewed on your lip, thinking. There was a small window in the door, but it was covered by blinds. You squinted, pressing your hands to the wood and moving your face inches from the glass; you tried to peer inside despite the closed blinds. That was mistake number two.

“Can I help you?”

You jumped. The voice came from behind you. It was deep with a smooth British accent; you whirled around to face the person. Your eyes met what was possibly, in your opinion, sex on two legs. The man was tall and built like a tank, judging from how his biceps and chest filled out his cotton shirt. His face was stern, with short-cropped brown hair and a muttonchop beard. His eyes a deep shade of blue, you swallowed.

Damn.

You didn't believe you had a type, but this guy probably would've checked off all the boxes if you did. You stood there like a gaping fish for a moment; when he raised his eyebrow, you snapped out of your trance-like state. “I’m-uh looking for Captain Price. I thought I'd check his office, but I don't think he's there.” You cringed; your voice was rushed, a pitch higher, too.

The man crossed his arms; god, he could probably pop your head like a balloon with those things alone. “Well, you found him.” He said plainly. You stared at him briefly; of course, he was the captain. Why else would he be here? You wanted to punch yourself in the gut. “Oh,” you breathed, “great then. I wanted to introduce myself; I'm the new transfer.” You tried to muster up a confident smile, which most likely had the opposite effect, given he was looking at you like you'd grown a second head.

“[Name], I know. I read your file.” He deadpanned. His voice caught you a little off guard; he wasn't irritated per se, but he didn't seem happy about this introduction. You cleared your throat, “Great then, I'm sure Laswell told you I was coming?” You were grasping at strings here, trying to prolong the conversation.

“Yes. I'm well aware you are here. Laswell has a way of inserting help into my team.” You paused; well, that wasn't meant to be a compliment. Your smile faltered, and you looked around the room like this was some prank. “She said you guys needed someone…?”

Price nodded, his demeanor unsettlingly calm, “That’s her opinion. Now, I respect Laswell; she knows what she's doing. That doesn't mean I always agree with her; 141 was just fine, this is just a precaution on her part.”

You felt your eye twitch a little; you transferred from your other unit, the unit you were extremely close to, mind you… for this? You joined out of the kindness of your heart, only for this jackass to say you were ‘just a precaution.’ “Well, I hope you won't hold a grudge.” You said a bit curtly. Price pursed his lips together in a tight line.

“Wouldn't dream of it; a year is an awful long time to hold a grudge.” He said, the malice and ego coming off his tongue so strong you could almost taste it. What was this guy's problem with you? You did the nice thing and took time out of your day to introduce yourself to him. And he was treating you like you'd personally wronged him. “Good, then I won't either.” You breathed, frustrated. Price looked down at you, his eyes devoid of any emotion. “Well, that's good to hear; now, are you going to let me into my own office or keep standing there like a human blockade?”

This guy.

Your palms squeezed into fists, shooting him a nasty glare. You forgot you were standing right in front of the door, the embarrassment making the tips of your ears heat up. You pushed yourself to walk away, “It was nice meeting you, Captain.” You spit, venom in your tone, walking away like a wounded animal.

Suddenly, you somehow forgot about how hot he was; at that moment, you wanted to smash his gorgeous face into a wall. You liked your new Captain a lot more when he didn't speak. But the reality set in: John Price hated you for some unknown reason, and you were starting to hate him back.

…You had calmed down since that first encounter. Maybe it was a one-off thing; after all, you did go when Gaz warned you that he may already be in a bad mood. Maybe you had jumped the gun? and Price didn't hate you.

News flash: He hated you, and it was not a one-off encounter.

You were now a month into your new job, and if it weren't for Price, you would've actually been enjoying your time with 141. Everyone else was great; they were warming up to the idea of having you as a teammate. The training was hard on you, but you expected that, you were improving day to day. But no matter how well you did, you always had Price’s voice in your ear telling you that you could've done better. The man was running circles around you.

Slowly, you started to lose patience with him; when he laid out the bait, you bit. It was getting easier to react instead of keeping calm and passive-aggressively telling him you were grateful for the friendly criticism.

Even the team started to watch every interaction you had with the Captain keenly. They would tease you ruthlessly, saying his name while your back was turned just to laugh at the way your whole body seemed to go as stiff as a board.

“I swear the two of ya seem to bicker like an auld married couple. It's like watching my parents fight.” Soap had said to you once after an agitated conversation you'd had with Price moments before.

Was it your fault for causing some of the arguments between you two? Possibly. But he instigated just as much as you did; it was like a competition of who could get under the other's skin the most. And you couldn't even avoid him; Gaz wasn't kidding when he said he was out and about when Price wasn't in his office. He was like your shadow.

You were in the cafeteria? Oh, so was Price. You were in the gym? That's funny; Price was just about to do his workout. Training? He was practically glued to you and nitpicking everything you did. You were trying to go for a fucking walk around base past lights out? Price couldn't sleep, and as your captain, it was his obligation to make sure you didn't do anything stupid.

Intrusively, you wondered if he had implanted a tracker into you while you were sleeping. That had to be it; there was no way you just happened to experience so many ‘coincidences’ back to back.

Eleven more months, you had eleven more months stuck with him. Maybe in that time, you could come up with a detailed plan on how you would murder, hide, and successfully get away with killing your Captain.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It was one of those off days where you didn’t have much to do. Like the calm before the storm, 141 had an incoming operation; plans were laid out, and everyone knew what to do. All that was left was playing the waiting game before you loaded into the helicopter and landed in a checkpoint base in Urzikstan.

With nothing to do, you figured it wouldn't hurt to hide away in the break room with some tea and scroll on your phone. You rarely had time to yourself, so you might as well make the best of it. You peeked into the break room and smiled when you found it was empty. You made a beeline to the small kitchen counter; you'd managed to snag some different types of tea for yourself over the few weeks you had been at base. It was the floral and sweet kind that nobody touched, despite Ghost's comment that: “It's not real tea.” You found it incredibly enjoyable.

As you turned on the electric kettle, the doorknob jostled. You looked up, and your eyes met Price. Well, shit. He made eye contact with you. Obviously, the feeling between you two was mutual based on how his lips dropped into a frown when he saw you. You stared at each other for a beat before you turned your head away.

You weren't doing this today; you were too tired to bicker with your captain over something useless. You stared at the counter, waiting for him to leave or speak. But he did neither. Instead, he walked over to the counter and grabbed a mug. The silence between you was so loud that the room might've been quieter if you were arguing.

He was close, not enough that you were touching, but enough that his presence almost tickled your skin.

You just continued to watch the counter and your mug. Glancing at the kettle, you almost grimaced; it was barely bubbling. When did boiling water take so long? The tension was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife. But, Price was the first to crack.

“Interesting mug,” he commented, his voice as it always was when he spoke to you. Dry. You debated not responding, but the silence was killing you just as much. “It's my favorite.” You said back, matching his tone. However, your eyes were soft as you looked at the mug before you. It was ceramic, with hand-painted fish drawn onto it. Cod, salmon, tuna, and swordfish, too, their colors vibrant compared to the barren beige of the rest of the cup.

He made a low hum sound, almost like he didn't believe you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you finally turned to look at him. You stopped briefly; his eyes had heavier bags than the last time you'd seen him. He didn't look as stern or unshakeable as usual; rather, he looked more weary, human. You forgot you were going to say something to him, “What?” You said, suspicious.

His eyes broke away from yours, looking down at his hands as they tore away the top of an instant coffee packet. Price emptied its contents into his plain white mug and cleared his throat. “Nothing, s’just that's my mug.” He said; his voice wasn't mad or accusatory. Instead, it was just like he was stating a fact.

You frowned, your eyebrows sinking further down your face. What was he talking about? You'd been using this mug for weeks; in fact, this was the first mug you'd used here, back when you first met Jhonny and the rest of the team. “That's not true; all the mugs in the cupboard are communal.” You pointed out, looking at him like you'd caught him in a bad lie.

He looked back at you, an almost smugness to his gaze. “Look at the bottom of the cup.” He said plainly. Your frown deepened, but you grabbed the mug and turned it over in your hands out of curiosity.

JP. It was painted in small lettering in the middle of the circular bottom. Your face dropped. Oh. JP, standing for John Price. It was his mug. Your face reddened as you realized you had been drinking out of his cup for the past month. Why hadn’t he said anything about it to you before now? He obviously knew, considering he'd seen you drink from it before.

You opened your mouth, trying to come up with a good defense. “But- Jhonny told me all the mugs in the break room were for everyone. Including this one.” You said, pointing at the mug in your hands.

Price raised one eyebrow, “And you believed him?” He said. The gears in your head started to turn; the guy had a point. Why had you trusted him of all people? You pinched the bridge of your nose between your fingers, “fucking christ Soap.” You muttered, primarily to yourself.

The steaming whistle of the kettle broke your train of thought, and your head snapped in its direction. You looked from the boiling kettle to the mug in your hand, a sigh exiting your chest. You held out the mug to him, “Here. It's yours, I'll get another one.”

Price looked surprised for a beat before his face went neutral again. He shook his head, pushing the mug back towards you. “No need; I've already got this one.” He grunted, nodding to the plain white mug sitting on his side of the counter. Before you could protest, he grabbed the kettle, pouring the hot water into his mug. Your nose scrunched as the aroma of instant coffee hit you.

He raised an eyebrow at your visceral reaction, “Not a fan of coffee now, are we?”

You cleared your throat, looking away from the blackening devil concoction. “I like coffee-” You clarified, “-just not that instant crap; it tastes like sewer water.” The curve of his lip twitched into a half-amused smile. Bringing the mug to his lips and taking a hearty sip, “noted.” Price hummed. You reached out to grab the kettle, but he handed it over to you before you could.

You raised your eyebrow; this was the closest thing you'd ever had to a friendly conversation with your Captain. You skeptically took it, breathing a ‘thanks’ to him. A comfortable silence fell on the both of you; Price could drink his coffee while you waited for your tea to brew.

Your eyes seemed to pull towards his direction as you waited, observing the curve of his lips, his nose that was just a bit crooked, and the coarse hair of his beard that thinned into stubble the further down his neck it went. You watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed his drink and how his large hand seemed to make the mug seem small. He somehow pulled off looking like he hadn't slept in weeks, which ticked you off somewhat.

He shot you a sideways glance, “You're staring.” Price said flatly; you looked like a deer caught in headlights. “I was…zoning out. And for the record, I was looking at the-uh wall behind you.” You cringed at yourself; the long pauses and uhs weren't adding to your credibility.

Price gave you a funny look, turning to look at the refrigerator behind him, which was most definitely not a wall. He turned back to you, “The wall you said?”

Well, shit, thanks, captain obvious. You frowned, giving up, “It doesn't matter-” you huffed, “Point is, I was zoned out.”

That answer seemed to satisfy him or at least force him to drop the subject; Price shrugged and took another sip from his mug. “Let's hope you don't make a habit out of it. Wouldn't want to add that to the other list of…qualities you have.” Here we go again. You raised an eyebrow, the edge in his tone all too familiar. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “Which are?”

Price cleared his throat, gesturing his mug to you and your tea. “Theavory, for one.” Well, he got you there. You blew out air from your nose, the closest thing to a laugh you'd let him pull from you.

“Funny.” You said sarcastically.

A small smile tugged at his lips, “Yeah, well, just trying to lighten the mood between us.”

There was a pause.

The way he said ‘between us’ didn't sit right with you; what he said had undertones of bitterness, almost similar to the layers of an onion. Now, was it possible that you were reading too much into this? Yes. Was it also a tone-deaf thing to say, considering he was the primary reason you two didn't like each other in the first place? Also yes.

Don't bite the bait; don't bite the bait, “The mood you created?” You bit the bait.

He glanced at you, one of his eyebrows arching. For a second, it was silent, like he was mulling over whether it was worth it to engage. Price sighed, setting his drink down. “Look… [Name], if this is about that time when we first met, I was in a bad mood. I wasn't trying to be harsh; I'd just had a shit day. Nothing personal on you.” He craned his neck to the side, sliding a hand over his nape.

You crossed your arms. “You could've apologized,” you pointed out. Price paused, staring at you quizzically, “Why would I need to apologize?”

You almost gaped at him; his ego seemed to know no bounds. If it wasn't so irritating, it might have been comical, “You called my job a ‘precaution,’ and me, a ‘human blockade-’” You deadpanned, “-I don't like when someone downplays my whole career.” Price just stared at you blankly, his face morphing into more confusion.

“But you are a precaution.” He said, “That's the whole reason why Laswell put you here.” It was like he was explaining something to a child.

You huffed, “Captain. With all due respect, I'm a part of this team whether we like it or not. I don't want to be treated like an outsider- everyone else here seems to treat me like I belong here so why don't you? What's not to trust?” You questioned, your eyebrows pinched together and your lips pressed into a not-so-subtle frown.

“You don't belong here, though,” Price said frostily. “You're here for a year [Name], no more, no less. You belong to a different task force, so excuse me if I treat you as such.”

You stood there, stunned for a moment. A familiar feeling of resentment bubbling up inside you like the electric tea kettle. Your hands squeezed the ceramic of your mug, “Just because I'm not here to stay doesn't mean I'm any less committed to my job. I work my ass off every day to show you that I belong here. I just don’t understand why you’re too stubborn to even see that.” You huffed.

Price pursed his lips into a tight line, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer. “I don't have time to micro-manage everything you do. That's not stubborn; it's having other responsibilities besides making you feel included.”

Well, if he hadn't made you feel like a toddler before, he definitely was now. “Well, that's funny because you seem to do a perfectly good job at micromanaging everything I do despite your ‘lack of free time.’ And- I’m not asking you to make me feel included; I’m not an infant. I’m asking you to treat me with the same respect you treat everyone else with.” You hissed.

It didn’t surprise you how quickly the polite interaction with him turned into another bitter argument. When it came to Price, emotions ran high. Higher than you would like to admit.

“Maybe if you stopped acting like a child, I would respect you more.” He bit back, and you groaned, throwing your hands up in the air.

“I’m not though- I’m clearly telling you the problem between us. But since you have this…this grudge against me you won’t even listen to me.” You huffed.

Price shot you a look that said, ' I'm winning this argument, and there is nothing you can say to stop that.’

Internally, you wondered if getting dishonorably discharged was worth throwing hot tea into your captain's stupid face. Instead, you decided to look away, setting your mug on the counter with a sharp ‘clank.’ “Fine then, don't listen to me. That works, too.” You breathed through your teeth.

Price downed the rest of his coffee, throwing his head back and then setting his mug upside down in the small sink. He turned his whole body to you, crossing his arms. His blue eyes narrowed, and his eyebrows pinched together in scrutiny. “You want me to listen? Go ahead. Say what you want; I'm all ears.”

Your voice died in your throat. As much as you wanted to give him a piece of your mind, you didn't put up much of a fight against him, especially not with his ‘I'm the Captain, and you are one word away from cleaning toilets’ voice.

You pressed your lips together in a tight line, and the silence between you hung dangerously quiet for another moment. “Nothing, Captain.” You said through your teeth.

Price nodded, his eyes drilling holes into you, “That's what I thought. Now, it better stay that way for the duration of the next week or so help me; I will take away every privilege you have.” With that, he promptly turned on his heel and stormed out. Leaving you, a seething statue.

You looked down at his mug, still held tightly in your hand. You glared at the painted fish, “Fuck you.” You whispered to the watercolor salmon. Your frown deepened, substantially disappointed that whispering ‘fuck you’ to your Captain's mug didn't carry the same satisfaction you'd feel if you said it straight to his face.

Arguing with him was like arguing with a brick wall. Scratch that. Arguing with Price was worse than arguing a brick wall, a brick wall wouldn't intimidate you and then storm off.

You didn't feel like finishing your tea anymore. You grit your teeth together, dumping the liquid into the sink and watching as it slides down the drain. You had a few days before the mission, and you were going to make sure that you didn't fuck anything up. Lest you suffer the wrath of Price and your own self-doubt.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“Shit!”

Your head snapped toward the voice, even with the night vision gear you had everything was difficult to identify. It was safe to say you weren't a fan.

It had been 72 hours since you landed in Urzikstan, and 4 hours since you left the checkpoint base. If you had to guess, it was most likely around 0300 standard military time. Which meant you and the rest of 141 only had another two hours before you had to evacuate and hop on the trucks back to the checkpoint.

Your orders were simple enough, break into the compound and locate the underground terror group that was allegedly creating a bio-warfare laboratory. While it wasn't concreated information British and American SAS couldn't risk not sending a team to see if the tip was accurate. Being the genuine pigs of the situation didn't sit right with you but you weren't employed for your opinion on what the government chose to do and not do.

Still, being sent on a wild goose chase or worse into a trap made you more on edge. Everyone had paired up in case this was a setup and because the universe could never let you win you were grouped with Price. Which brought you back to the present moment.

“Price whats going on? talk to me.” You said in response to his curse. Trying to keep your voice as low as you could while still being audible. You weren't an expert but typically someone hissing ‘shit!’ wasn't a good sign.

In the split second before he could respond you heard the click. Along with the sound of Price’s footsteps trying to get out of the way, then came the sharp boom of a gun being fired. Only after the sound had left the barrel of the gun did you see it. The building wasn't finished, half of the construction was halted, leaving rooms unfinished, walk-offs, and random piles of rubble. Hidden behind a cement pillar a floor above, looking down at you was a person. More importantly a person behind a giant ass gun.

Shit!

You immediately threw yourself out of the way, ducking yourself behind a large amount of rubble. Your eyes scanned for Price in the darkness, frantically making sense of the objects around you. Another fire. Followed by another one. You didn't have time to look for Price. You turned your body, shielded by the debris, and pointed your gun up. It didn't take long before you locked onto the figure, you drew your breath in and pulled the trigger. The firing stopped.

You peered up over the rubble just in time to see the limp body flop over the drop-off and slam into the concrete. You were met with a deafening silence, “Price you copy?”

After a moment you heard someone move, “Yeah-” Your shoulders dropped, a breath you didn't realize you were holding escaped. You never thought hearing that deep British voice would ever make you this relieved. “Yeah, I copy.” He breathed. You stood, carefully making your way over to the corpse of your attacker. Looking down at the body, their face hidden by a cloth and glazed-over eyes looking up at the ceiling.

You grimaced, it was like looking at a dead fish. You looked up, nobody else was above. The only thing remaining was the unaccompanied sniper.

“This guy was alone.” You said, eyebrows furrowing. “And his aim was shit.” You deadpanned. Your head turned, expecting to meet Price. But were only greeted by an empty space, “Price?” You asked looking around.

“Over here.” He gruffed, you turned around. Price was standing next to a wall, his palm flat against its surface. It was like he was leaning against it, your eyes narrowed. His left leg was slightly raised off the ground, something wasn't right.

You jogged over to him, “What's the matter?” you asked, because of the night vision goggles coupled with the amount of gear he was wearing you couldn't see his face well. However, you didn't miss the way his jaw flexed. Before he could respond you pinpointed the issue. The leg that was raised had a small bullet-sized hole in his boot.

“Shit.” You breathed.

This really wasn't what you needed. You and Price had to be out of the compound in the next hour and a half, being shot in the foot was a major problem. At least it wasn't an organ, you thought. “Can you still walk?” You asked.

Price put his foot on the ground, putting his weight on it. You cringed as he let out a quiet hiss, “Yeah just fuckin’ hurts like hell.” He took a step, he was limping but he could walk. Which was a small win for both of you. Just as you opened your mouth someone spoke in your ear piece.

“[Name], Price, you copy? We heard shots.” The voice was grave, deep, with a thick British accent. Ghost.

Price answered, “We’re fine. Bastard with a sniper nicked my foot. Did any of you find the lab yet?” He said through clenched teeth, despite your dislike of your captain you felt a little guilty. If you'd seen the shooter before Price would probably be fine.

“We just found it, nobody’s here. S’a fuckin’ ghost town… no pun intended.” Ghost’s staticky voice rang in your ear, if you were in a better situation you might have laughed. Your eyebrows furrowed and you frowned.

“That makes no sense.” You chimed in, “If this guy was here there should be more people. It doesn't make sense for only one person to be set up here.” You looked at Price. His head was already turned to look at you. It was a beat before anyone spoke again.

“Price.” A raspy Scottish accent this time. Soap. “The labs empty, no inventory at all. Everything is sterile.” You felt your throat run dry, the silence on the radio spoke louder than anything you or anyone else could say. Either they evacuated before the team had gotten there or the whole building was a ruse.

You looked back at the corpse lying a few feet away from you and Price. “They knew we were coming.” You breathed. The weight of your words seemed to carry for miles, but the implications might have been worse. You looked at Price, the same thoughts you had probably already running through his head. “We need to fucking leave, right now.”

Price gave a small nod, “Everyone get out. Gaz, call for emergency evac now. Leave the same way we came do not under any circumstances go further into this building.” Price demanded. Which was followed by a series of ‘copies.’ You started for the way you entered, just as you reached the empty doorframe you heard a grunt behind you. You looked back, fuck. You forgot Price was hurt, fuck, fuck, fuck. He could walk but there was no way he could run with his foot.

You doubled back, and as you ran to him Price raised his hands. Almost in protest, “I can keep up, I'm not immobile.” He exhaled, and you shot him an unimpressed look. The situation was bad enough, you weren't going to deal with this. You couldn't waste time and walking on a bad foot would only worsen it for Price in the long run.

You grabbed his arm and slung it over your shoulder, one arm grabbed the back of his vest, holding his side up so his injured foot didn't hit the floor. It wasn't the most comfortable but it worked.

Price opened his mouth but you spoke before he could get a word in. “You can't keep up and you know it. Whatever problems we have don't matter right now, we've got to get out of here. God knows what the people who were here before us did to this place. But we don't have time to think about that-” Your eyes met his, the red hue of the night vision goggles making his navy eyes seem black. “-I’d much rather keep you alive but I would gladly die with you than have it be my fault that you die. So shut the fuck up and move.”

That seemed to do the trick because Price did in fact, shut the fuck up. You quickly exited with Price. It wasn't as fast as you would've liked to leave but it was the best you could do with a six-foot tank of a man leaning against you.

A few minutes later you and Price successfully made it out. The rest of the team was already waiting a ways away from the building, you let out a relieved sigh. Just being out of the compound seemed to lift a weight off your chest and calm your racing heart. Price seemed to feel the same way judging by his taunt muscles relaxing slightly.

You made your way over to the team, Ghost was the first to notice you. He did a slight double-take as he saw Price, “Thought you said the bloke nicked you?” He commented, you gently released Price letting him lean against the outside wall of an abandoned house.

Price grunted, “Yeah well he nicked me good.” He said back, Ghost nodded. Soap and Gaz peered at the bloody hole in his boot, “That’s gonna be a pain to heal I’ll tell you that.” Soap commented, and Gaz nodded along. “No kidding.”

Price’s frown deepened, and he let out a breath. “Gaz how long till evac trucks pick us up?” Gaz looked out at the open area then looked back, “I’d say twenty minutes give or take.” That answer seemed to give Price a little peace.

A few minutes had gone by, and Soap, Ghost, and Gaz were all talking with you while Price leaned against the wall silently. You glanced at your Captain, gingerly making your way over you leaned against the wall a few inches away from him. You didn't know what to say if you should say anything for that matter. Making conversation with Price wasn't your strong suit, but you felt bad.

“So…you okay?” You asked dumbly, Price gave you a look that made you want to go right back to the others. He was silent for a beat before speaking. “I got shot in the foot [Name], you tell me.” He deadpanned.

You swallowed, nodding. Asshole. No matter, you decided to take it in stride, “Right.” You breathed, “I just… wanted to check.” On second thought maybe you really should leave, it was like you were communicating with an alien. And after your last argument with Price, you walked on eggshells whenever you were around him.

The stretch of silence between the two of you lasted longer than you would've liked. But after a moment Price cleared his throat and nodded, “Thank you.” He said.

You did a bit of a double-take, thank you? Price never thanked you. It was like he was allergic to congratulating or acknowledging you in any form that wasn't to reprimand you. You must've looked as confused as you felt by the way he glanced at you and then went on. “For helping me out of there, you were prepared for the worst back there and you still had my back. I appreciate that-”

“-you uh, you did good.” He clarified.

Your mouth was probably hanging open at this point, ‘you did good.’ The words hung in the air around you, filling your ears with cotton. Price your captain, Price your mortal enemy had praised you. He gave you a sideways glance, “Don't look so shocked [Name], you're still on thin ice.”

Ah, there it was, your shoulders slumped. It was better than nothing though, “Right, uhm thank you.” You said a bit awkwardly, Price gave you a small nod in return. It wasn't much, but it was acknowledgment.

After some time passed by you and the rest of 141 loaded into the trucks, starting the long drive to the checkpoint base. You tried to lean your head back and get just a little bit of rest, but after thirty minutes of failing to do so, you gave up. There was just too much in your head, too many unanswered questions. You thought about the man you'd killed, why was he there? What was the use of evacuating a building if you just left a single sniper with terrible aim lying in wait for someone to come looking around?

Did that mean they didn't know 141 specifically was coming? The question that worried you the most was the fact that if they did plan for you to raid the lab, who on the inside was feeding these people your team's operations? You shuddered. It was bad enough that commanding officer Shepard went rogue a few months prior. The SAS really didn't need another mole. Especially considering the amount of enemies the American and British military had made.

Your shoulders slumped, it didn’t really matter, what mattered was that everyone made it out. You didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened if the previous occupants had left explosives inside the building. It was better to just be thankful that nothing happened.

Your first operation with 141 had been a bust, but considering the circumstances you thought it went as well as it could’ve. Not counting Price’s foot.

Subconsciously your eyes drifted over to Price, his boot had been taken off and his foot was wrapped in white garb. Just until someone could look at it properly, everyone had taken their night visions and helmets off to get some shut-eye. Your gaze drifted up until they met his face, navy eyes met yours. You froze, you hadn't realized Price was awake. The two of you didn't break eye contact for a minute, almost like a challenge of who would be the first to look away.

“You make a habit of staring at people or is it just me?” He deadpanned. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, he could never let you catch a break, could he?

“I wasn't staring, and you were looking at me too.” You defended, it didn't matter if you were staring, he wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing you confess that. One of his thick eyebrows raised, “I glanced at you. There's a difference, you just happened to look up at the same time.” He said back, calm as ever.

You half rolled your eyes, he could word it however he wanted to, but in the end, it was pretty much the same thing. “Okay, keep telling yourself that.” You hummed, matching his nonchalance. Your gaze dropped back down to his bandaged foot, “How’s the foot?” You asked, hoping he wouldn't catch you changing the subject.

Price grunted, his head lulling back onto the seat. You shot a glance at his adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down before averting your eyes. “Feels like I got shot in the foot, so…not great. It's better than an organ so I won't complain that much.” He breathed.

You nodded, “You ever been shot before?” you asked, what could you say? You were curious. He nodded, clearing his throat he cast his head down to look at his chest. One of his hands pulled up his bullet vest and shirt revealing the beginnings of his abdomen, right above his hip bone there was a small scar. “Two years ago, caught me while I was down. Took forever to heal, fuckin’ hurt like hell too.”

You zeroed in on the exposed skin, it was all muscle, no surprises there. The man was built like a 4x6 brick, his skin was shiny with sweat, and from what you could see his bullet scar wasn't the only one that littered his skin. Just below the dipped fabric of his shirt was the start of a happy trail. You swallowed.

What the fuck was wrong with you? A few days ago you were plotting how you could murder him and now you're ogling a sliver of his stomach like a horny teen girl.

You absolutely did not find a single part of your boss attractive. Forget your first interaction with him when you were practically gaping over him like a fish. That didn't count. This was Price you were talking about. Sure, he was conventionally attractive with just the right amount of ruggish charm to make him mysterious. And yeah, he was built like a tank, so what? And you couldn't forget about his stupid fucking British accent, who the hell was into British accents anyways? (You were. Embarrassingly so.)

Price looked up at you, the silence making you raise an eyebrow. “See something you like aye?” He said, amusement dripping from his voice. Your eyes immediately snapped back to his face, embarrassment churning away at your insides.

“You wish,” You said back. So maybe you found some parts of your Captain hot, that didn't matter. In the end, it was still Price. And the flames of hatred don't die out just because one's enemy is a little (a lot) attractive.

Price breathed out what sounded like a laugh, he dropped the shirt. “Keep telling yourself that [Name].” Your fists squeezed together as he threw your words back at you.

You glared at him, “You're so full of it you know that?” You breathed, which only seemed to pique his interest further. You were glad the rest of the team was either sleeping or so used to your fighting that at this point they tuned you out. Jumping off a cliff seemed nice in comparison to the ruthless teasing that Soap and Ghost would enact if they found out you'd been caught ogling Price.

��Didn't realize this would strike a nerve, any particular reason why?” He said, you grimaced. You could almost taste the smugness from his tongue like syrup, “It didn't.” You said through your teeth, “Then again, egotistical men are a pain to be around. Especially ones that think everyone around them wants them.” You grumbled.

Your words seemed to have the opposite effect, Price straightened. A small tug at his lip made you want to slap that smirk right off. “I never said you wanted me, but liars always do have a way of telling on themselves don't they?” He grinned.

Something flashed in his eyes, you didn't have time to see what it was. But right now, all your willpower was devoted to not picking up your gun and giving him a matching hole in his right foot. “I think I'd rather shoot myself than be anything but professional with you.” You said frostily.

Price hummed, the smirk never leaving his face and he leaned back. “Glad the feeling is mutual.” He spoke calmly.

Your eye twitched, he was pulling that card now. Reverse physiology or whatever it was, the ‘I don't have to want you but you have to want me.’ Well too bad you didn't care, you couldn't care less. If Price didn't want you that was great-better even.

“Yeah,” You huffed, “Super glad.” You turned your head away so you didn't have to look in his direction. Maybe you should've left him in that building, it was a tempting thought. The rest of the drive back to the checkpoint was spent in silence.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The base felt dreary, everyone was still in a funk from the previous night. Everything felt just a bit more surreal, nobody was talking about what happened either. Not that there really was anything to discuss.

The checkpoint base wasn't as nice as your previous base. It wasn't even a full building, there were a few small ones but those were mostly used to store weapons. Everything else was industrial-sized tents, making privacy a luxury. It didn't even have a proper barracks, just a large tent with several stretcher-like beds placed in rows. To be completely honest the entire thing was a pile of shit. But it was a roof over your head so there was that.

You sat at a bench in the ‘commons,’ a poor excuse for food sitting in front of you. Gaz sat next to you while Ghost and Jhonny sat across from you. They all had similar grimaces plastered on their faces as they ate their protein paste.

“If I have to eat this shite for another day I'm going to go into that food storage room and light the thing up. They got us eating like dogs.” Ghost said after draining the last of his rations. You half-heartedly agreed, humming a sound of approval that was accompanied by Gaz’s small chuckle.

Soap grinned, “Don't get yer panties in a twist just yet L.T, heard they're serving dessert paste too. Courtesy of Price’s injury.”

You shivered, it sounded just as bad if not worse. Then a thought popped up, you looked around the common space. “Hey, you guys seen Price? Isn't he eating?” You hadn't seen him for almost the entire day, which was a blessing for you but it did strike you as odd when normally you couldn't get rid of him.

Gaz shrugged, “He was in the medical tent last time I saw him. The guy was getting his foot looked at, he’ll probably show up soon.”

Ghost turned his head to face you, while it was a little hard to tell with his balaclava, one of his eyebrows raised. “Awful concerned about Price aren't you? Thought you hated the man.” Your lips curled into an exasperated frown.

“I'm not. And I do hate him. I was just curious.” You brushed him off, trying to avoid his stony gaze. Soap and Gaz exchanged looks that made your eyebrows furrow.

Gaz looked at you, “What about the other day when you helped him out of the building?” Soap was next to chime in, “Or that you use his mug all the time and he lets you?”

You shot Gaz a glare, “First, he's still my Captain I'm not going to leave him in a building where I think he's going to die.” Then you directed a similar glare at Soap, “Second, I didn't know it was his mug because you tricked me into thinking the mugs were communal.” You said through your teeth.

Ghost smirked, “Sounds like you care.”

Your hands gripped the table with unnecessary force. “I do not.” You defended, the looks exchanged between them made you want to crawl into a hole. Suddenly you weren't as inclined to finish your meal. You stood, grabbing your tray of half-eaten food and trash. “I'm not hungry anymore.” You said dryly.

Soap laughed, faking a disappointed frown. “Come on lass we were just getting started with ya. Where's the fun in leaving before the real jokes start?” You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the bench and walking towards the trash.

“Jokes are supposed to be funny,” you replied as you dumped the remanence of your ‘lunch’ in the trash. Just as you were exiting the tent Soap's voice called out to you.

“Oh, if you see the old fart, tell him his dessert paste is waiting for him!” That earned an amused tug at the corner of your lips, shaking your head in exasperation as you pushed past the floppy tent entrance.

You didn't even make it a foot outside before your momentum was halted by a larger mass. Your face met something hard, but also somehow soft at the same time. You stumbled back, gaining back your balance from the force of running into something. Or more specifically, someone. You looked up in dismay to see what kind of idiot ran into you.

It was Price, because of fucking course it was.

But it was Price with the addition of a single crutch and a newly wrapped foot. Your eyes slowly crept up to his face, the mortifying reality that you slammed right into his chest setting in. What’s worse was that the previous conversation with the guys was still very fresh in your mind.

‘Sounds like you do care,’ Ghost’s words echoed in your mind, haunting you like a…well a ghost. Ironic.

“Do you mind?” Price's words snapped you out of your trance. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. It was silent for a moment before your vocal cords decided to actually comply and let you speak.

“You ran into me.” You said lamely, the tips of your ears felt hot. Like lava was slowly being poured onto your head. Price’s eyebrows furrowed, his navy eyes studying you. Even on one crutch, he seemed to tower over you in a way that made you antsy.

“Why are you red?” He asked, the question caught you off guard. Making you falter for a second time, “I-What?”

Price’s eyes narrowed a bit, a finger pointed directly at you. “Your face. It's red,” It wasn't a jab, more like he was observing a simple fact. Suddenly you became hyper-aware of the heat spreading across your face. You touched your cheek, and the pads of your fingers burned at the touch.

Oh my god.

Your face was hot, it was flushed. You were blushing. Blushing. In front of Price.

You swallowed, feeling a bob in your throat. It was like you were in one of those dreams where you showed up to school naked. “I'm allergic-” You blurted out.

A beat of silence ensued, and Price raised a single brow. “Allergic?” He said, to which you responded with a hard nod. Think, think- what was a believable lie? “Yes… to the dessert paste.”

Price didn't look skeptical now, he just looked downright confused. “What the hell is dessert paste?” He questioned, while a good question, you didn't want to stand around to explain it to him while your face looked like the cover of a period ad. You shook your head, steering around him like a robot.

“Ask soap.” You said as you made your escape, “I'm going to the med tent so I don't go into anaphylactic shock.”

That was a lie, you were going to the bathroom to rethink your career and splash cold water on your face. Leaving Price a standing statue, a perplexed look on his face.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

A pack of 8 beers was slammed down onto the small table in front of where you were sitting. The bottles lightly clanked together, you looked up. “What’s this?” You asked, Soap stood in front of you with a confident grin.

“This is how we’re going to make it through our last 10 hours in this shit hole.” He proclaimed, his hands on his hips.

It was late, everyone but Price was in the sleeping tent. True to Soap’s words, in 10 hours you and the rest of 141 were finally going to load up into the heli and return to the original base. Thank goodness too, you didn't think you could stomach another meal here. Ghost looked over from his cott, “The hell did you get that from?”

Soap waved him off, smoothing over his poor example of a mohawk. “A magician never reveals his secrets.” He fished into his pant pocket and pulled out a pocket knife, grabbing one of the bottles he flicked the cap off with a soft pop’ “Since it is our last night, why not celebrate?” He went on.

You eyed the pack suspiciously, if it came from here it was probably shit beer. But it was still something, you shrugged. You reached for one, “I'll take what I can get.” You sighed.

Grabbing a bottle you snatched Soap’s knife to knock off the cap. Throwing your head back as you took a generous swig, it burned down your throat. The pungent flavor making your nose scrunch and your mouth curl. Soap did the same, smacking his lips as he swallowed. “Well…It could be worse.” He muttered.

Ghost and Gaz followed suit, walking over to your space and grabbing two bottles. After some time had passed the four of you had settled into a sort of circle, you were two beers in and things were already getting fuzzy. You didn't normally drink, mostly because you were a lightweight. But when you did drink, you got drunk. You were tipping your head back with laughter at every story, the warmth in your stomach making the tent somehow feel cozy.

Soap reached for his third bottle but Gaz swatted his hand away, “Leave some for Price Jhonny.” He scolded, Soap simply rolled his eyes and groaned. “The old man won't care, he only drinks at those shitty pubs. He's a stickler bout not drinkin’ on base, something about ‘not mixing business with pleasure’” He mocked, doing in your opinion, a decent Price impression. You chucked.

“I don't think Price takes ‘pleasure’ in anything, he's such a stick up the ass he wouldn't know fun if it hit him in the face.” You breathed, and while not the most articulate thing to say, your tongue and thoughts were loose enough that you didn't care.

Ghost’s mouth curled into a knowing smirk, “For someone who hates Price, you sure do love to talk about him any chance someone brings him up.” He said smugly, earning snickers from both Soap and Gaz.

“Oh fuck off will you?” You grumbled to Ghost, this whole teasing you about Price thing was getting old fast. “I say one thing and you guys act like I have some schoolgirl crush on him.”

Soap grinned, “You said it lass, not us.” He coughed abruptly when you smacked him in the stomach, making him lean forward to catch his breath. You glanced at Ghost who’s hands were now raised in surrender.

“Come off it [Name], we’re just teasing, you're not doing yourself any favors by acting with him the way you do.” He commented, which only confused you. All you did was argue with him, where was there room for speculation? The look on your face must've told them everything they needed to know.

“What do I do that gives off that impression even remotely?” You said defensively, they all exchanged looks.

Soap spoke up, “It's not just you bonnie, Price acts differently around you too. It just gives off a certain impression. Some people just take it the wrong way.” There was an underlying uncomfortableness to his words that you didn't miss. And who were ‘some people??’

Ghost smacked him upside the head, earning a startled grunt. “Fuckin’ twat, Soap doesn't know what he's saying.” Ghost said facing you. “He's already tipsy, don't take what he's saying to heart.” Soap was holding his head, shooting a glare at the lieutenant.

You shook your head, not ready to let it go. “No, who's some people? And what did you mean when you said ‘taking it the wrong way?’” Your eyes narrowed in on all three of them, waiting for someone to speak first. Gaz looked away, immediately giving him away as the weakest link. “Gaz what's he talking about?” You asked firmly.

He tensed up, glancing at Ghost and then back to you. “It's really nothing, it's just a silly rumor.” Ghost shot him a firm look, “Kyle-” He warned.

A rumor? What the hell was there to talk about? The last time you'd heard of a rumor going around about yourself was in high school, it wasn't a pleasant experience, to say the least. Your lips pursed into a tight line, something about how secretive they were being set you off. “What rumor?” You said, after a minute of silence, you slowly got more frustrated. “If it's about me I deserve to know.”

Ghost didn't speak, neither did Gaz, but Soap did. He blew out a sigh, glancing back at Ghost who was maintaining strict eye contact with you. “There is a bit of a widespread rumor back at base that you've been shaggin’ the boss. People started calling you Captain’s Girl.”

The pit of your stomach dropped.

You felt dizzy, looking between the three of them. Waiting for one of them to break, to smile and say ‘got you!’ but it never came. “You're joking right?” You said, laughing nervously, the longer the silence the more nauseous you became.

Ghost shook his head, his eyes hard but his demeanor a bit solemn. “We didn't want you to know for obvious reasons. Thought it would make things worse between the two of ya’ and it was just too far.” You swallowed, this was a joke. This was a joke and they were just teasing. When nobody spoke after the reality set in.

Of course, this would happen to you, you worked your ass off just to be respected in a field dominated by men. You were asked to be a part of 141. But all people saw was a slut who worked her way up the ladder by playing Miss ‘Hard to Get.’

“We tried to stop it as best we could trust us, it's just a little hard to keep quiet when word spreads fast,” Gaz interjected, his eyebrows scrunched in…guilt? Second-hand embarrassment? Sadness? You couldn't tell.

You sat there in silence, processing everything. “But- but I'm not. I'm not sleeping with him.” You sputtered.

Soap placed a hand on your shoulder, “We know you ain't. You don't need to listen to those people anyways, it's just barrack talk, people needing a story to make their lives more interesting.” A well of emotions started to flood your senses, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the gravity of the situation hitting you.

Captain’s girl.

What. The. Fuck.

This was Price’s fault. It had to have been, Soap said he was acting weird. Maybe this was all his elaborate plan to destroy your career and kick you off 141 for fraternization. It had to have been him, right? You weren't thinking as clearly as you would have liked considering you were borderline drunk, but that didn't matter. You shot up from where you were sitting, making Soap jump.

Stumbling you started to make a beeline for the entrance, Gaz also got up and followed you, much to your chagrin. “[Name]? Where are you going??” He called after you.

“To find Price!” (And kill him.) You shouted back angrily, storming outside before Gaz had the chance to stop you. Obviously, you didn't think this through enough because it was pitch dark outside. And Price was nowhere in sight, fuck.

Whatever, you could search this place for hours if you had to. He was bound to pop up somewhere, like how the tide is drawn to the moon you and Price always had a way of being pulled into each other. You stormed through the dark, almost tripping on your own feet once or twice in the process.

You'd been there long enough that you could tell what area was what. Even in the pitch-black cloak of the dark, you could feel your heartbeat in your head. It was like your body was pulsing with the rhythm of your anger. Just as you were about to start shouting his name a light caught your eye. You swiveled your neck so fast it burned the muscles in your nape. Low and behold it was Price walking out of the medical tent with his single crutch.

He stopped when he noticed you, his face a mix of confusion. “What are you doing? I thought I told you guys not to go outside after lights out?”

You felt every emotion rush back to you at the sound of his voice, the sight of his face, the fucking absurdity of the whole situation. Your hands clenched into fists, “What the fuck is wrong with you?! I thought you sucked before but I underestimated how much of a jackass you could be!”

Price stood there like a deer caught in headlights, so baffled he couldn't even speak. “Excuse me?”

You marched straight up to him, “You heard me. Apparently making my life a living hell wasn't enough for you was it? You sadistic fuck. Do you get off on torturing me? Is that it?” You spat. The heat in your face rising with each word.

He didn't say anything, his navy eyes looking at you like you belonged in an insane asylum. After a minute of silence, he breathed, “[Name]. Realistically I should be laying into you right now and giving you every single punishment there is for the rest of your stay here for cursing me out after lights out with no provocation on my end. But, I'm going to give you one chance to explain why you're acting like a screaming banshee before I send your ass straight to the bins.”

His words only ticked you off further, well two could play dumb. “You know exactly why I'm angry! No provocation is such bullshit. You- You just think I'm so stupid don't you?!” You were stumbling, your mouth felt heavy. It was like your mind was moving faster than your body could keep up with.

“Are you drunk?” He asked incredulously. You shook your head, “No! I mean yes I had a few drinks but I'm not drunk. Stop deflecting-” You rambled on.

His eyes turned to narrow slits, “I don't even know what I'm deflecting- you can't just start making a scene and expect me to know why you're angry. I'm not a mind reader.” He groaned.

“The name! The rumor- whatever you call it. You spread a rumor about me to the entire base that I'm sleeping with you! People are calling me your girl! The guys told me, everyone thinks I'm some slut because of you!” Everything in your body was burning, it felt good to finally yell at him but the words hit you hard.

You were labeled as the slut. No matter what you did there was always going to be a man overshadowing you just because of a preemptive notion that you were weaker. Something you'd spent your life fighting was now your reality.

Price’s eyes went wide, he almost resembled a wooden board. For a moment his eyes softened, like he was taking pity on you. “That's what this is about.” He breathed, “Look, I’m just as upset about that rumor and the name as you are. I don't know who started it but I can give you my word it wasn't me. You can ask any one of the guys and they will tell you the same thing.”

You started to speak but he raised a hand to stop you, “-I know it's not fair. But the damage has already been done, the thing about rumors is that they pass. And nobody thinks you're a slut. You're just as capable as anyone else on this team.” He said calmly.

It was silent for a moment. You didn't really know what to do or what to believe. All you had to go on was his word, which wouldn't normally hold much weight but something about him seemed so genuine. “I- how do I know you're not lying to my face? You hate me. And I’m just supposed to believe a random person made this rumor up when you've been trying to kick me off the team from the start.”

Price halted for a moment, his face reflecting a series of conflicting emotions. “I don't hate you, and I am not trying to kick you off.”

“Well, it sure as hell doesn't seem that way, even Soap said you act differently around me. I don't understand why you fucking hate me so much when almost all I ever do is try and suck up to you!” You shouted, your voice slightly slurring with how fast the words escaped your lips.

A vein bulged in Price’s temple, his jaw working with his growing temperament. “I don't know how often we have to go through this same conversation before you get it through your thick head. I don't hate you, I'm hard on you. There's a difference.”

“Well, that's not what it looks like to me. Especially not to the mystery person who just conjured a rumor that we’re sleeping together out of thin air.” You seethed, until now you'd been standing a few feet away from him. But somehow, amid the argument, you found yourself now uncomfortably close.

Price scowled down at you, “What do you want me to say to you?! That I'm sorry I also got caught up in some dumb rumor. That I'm sorry you got your feelings hurt because I was a little harsh.”

Your mind was telling you to communicate your feelings like a normal person. The alcohol and your heart told you your fist connecting with his face was the better option. And right now, your heart (plus the alcohol) was winning.

“I want you to fucking show me you don't hate me! You can say all you want that I'm just being dramatic but there's obviously a reason why I think you hate me.” You fired back.

The two of you stood there for a moment, his eyes drilling into yours. A scowl on Price’s lips and his eyebrows pinched together, there was something about the heat of the moment that made you more on edge. You were hyperaware of everything around you, most importantly you were hyperaware of your proximity to him. The night air was cold but you were on fire.

“You want me to show you? Fine.” He grit out, and before you had time to react he was on you.

His hand was on your neck, thick and warm. Pulling you close so that his lips captured yours in what you could only describe as ‘a hungry kiss.’ The coarse hair of his beard tickled your skin and before you even knew what you were doing, you started kissing him back.

Fuck. He tasted like smoke and whiskey, a woody smell clung to him like sap. Greedily your hands pulled at him, your fingers bunching the cotton of his shirt like he'd disappear. You'd kissed men before but never in your life had anyone kissed you like this. The kiss was hot, desperate, almost angry. His tongue slid along yours, you felt the drag of his teeth nip at your bottom lip and his throaty groan when you only pulled him closer.

You couldn't remember why he was kissing you, or why you started kissing him back. You didn't know why you were so angry, nor did you pay mind to the chance that anyone could walk outside and see the two of you.

You heard his crutch absentmindedly fall to the ground, clattering against the hard dirt. Price's other hand snaked to the back of your head, curling his thick digits into the locks of your hair. His nose brushed against yours, he felt so warm. Asshole or not this man knew how to kiss.

“[Name]!”

Gaz’s voice broke you out of the trance you seemed to have been under. Immediately you and Price tore apart, your heart jackhammered in your ribcage. You looked at Price, he looked at you.

His blue eyes were blown wide, his lips parted and shiny with the reminisce of your spit. A reddish tinge colored his ears and cheeks. He looked horrified.

You didn't fair much better. You probably looked like a gaping fish. You'd just kissed Price. Price had kissed you. You two had been kissing. Holy shit.

Footsteps snapped your attention away from him, Gaz ran to meet you. His breath heavy like he’d been running around for a good amount of time. “[Name] Price didn’t start the rumor- you left before I could tell you. I-” He stopped, his eyes darting between both you and Price. You probably looked as guilty as you felt. “I…uhm I guess you two worked it out?”

There was an awkward silence before anyone spoke, Price cleared his throat, quickly wiping his lips. “She’s aware… You two go back to the tent, it’s late. We leave early tomorrow so get a good sleep.”

You were still in shock, could you even move your limbs? Another silence hovered over the three of you like a looming dust cloud. Gaz awkwardly shuffled to you, patting your shoulder as if to say ‘party's over, let��s go.’ He nodded at Price, “Right, see you in the morning Cap.”

Before you knew it, your legs were moving as Gaz led you back to the tent. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, “You alright?” He said hesitantly. You didn't know what to say to him, you didn't even know what you were feeling. And you doubted saying, ‘Honestly I don't know because two seconds ago Price's tongue was down my throat and I can't tell if I'm turned on or horrified,’ was appropriate.

So, you settled for a simple: “I’m fine.” Gaz gave you a skeptical look, but he chose not to comment on it. Once you got back to the tent Soap and Ghost had already started to get into their respective cots. Soap gave you a funny look over his shoulder, “What happened to you? You look shell-shocked.” He laughed.

You didn't even have the energy to respond, giving him a disgruntled grimace in return. You fell into your cot, burying your face into the thick sleeping bag. Your cheeks burned, and the taste of Price still lingered on your lips.

Apart of you wished that you were blackout drunk, then maybe it would be easier knowing whatever happened would disappear by the morning. But his groans, his hands in your hair, his lips, they were carved into your brain. And they weren't leaving.

You had to grapple with the reality that Price had kissed you. And you had kissed him back.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Hey, wait! Don't go!

Well… hello there. It's me again! To those of you who aren't familiar, you can call me Baebae. And to those who are welcome back! I've written fanfiction a bit before (check out my other stuff on my home page) but nothing like this. So that makes this special, and I'm happy you can join me while I embark on this new journey.

There is no spice in this chapter but it is coming in the next part. There are only two parts to this so you won’t have to wait that long. Trust me I am trying my best to crank out the next one so I’ll try my best to be quick!!

I would be so, so, so, soooo grateful if you would like, follow, or repost. Don't feel any pressure but I love hearing any feedback you can provide as I am relatively new to this and it spurs me on to know people enjoy what I put out. If you so choose you can message me or comment if you'd like me to @ you in the next part so you're notified. <3

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this and I'll see you in the next part. Toodles! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Part II of Captains Girl!

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

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aomiiine · 22 days ago

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I COULD HAVE YOU ANY TIME

OFFICE ROMANCE WITH … CEO!zayne x secretary fem!reader warning(s) -> nsfw, MDNI (18+ only), smut w little plot !! dom-ish zayne, established relationship (husband/wife), jealous-ish zayne, fingering, orgasm denial, discipline-ish vibes, impact play, sir kink, creampie, petnames: darling, my love/love, dove, brief dry humping, romantic/fluffy intimacy, not proofread wordcount. 2.2k (i love him, this is my way of making up for the horndog i was for caleb) taglist. @jellysix @tinycatharsis @wonuwuuuuu @wonryllis @tsukkisukkii

ZAYNE KNEW HIS WIFE was a gorgeous creature, the epitome of a woman’s essence—it was only natural for others to covet her, to feel the same infatuation he had with her. Except, he placed his band on her first.

3PM in the afternoon, Zayne had a meeting with investors at a resort’s hall. You, as his secretary, were obligated to come with him.

Negotiations went smoothly, transactions mutually agreed and satisfactory. But for some reason, Zayne left the room feeling more agitated than he should be.

He returned to the company’s headquarters in silence, barely talking much on the way, not even to you. He was awfully silent even when you two arrived. Unable to think much about your husband during business hours, you focused on work as you knew he would like you to.

you did exactly that for the rest of the hours, the day fleeting briefly until night fell in a blink of an eye. Finally, Zayne wanted to see you.

“You called, sir?” You greeted formally, aware that the rest of the staff hadn’t left yet. They knew you were married but still, you wanted to maintain some professionalism at work.

“I did, love. Close the door,” Zayne replied cooly, standing beside his desk chair, arms crossed as he stared out the ceiling-to-floor windows showing a view of Linkon City’s centre buzzing roads and buildings.

you did as you were asked, of course, shutting the door behind you with a click.

“What is it, Zayne?” You approached him with ease now, expression softening to a look of curiosity at his sudden summoning after an entire day of silence.

“Those investors we met earlier today, what did you think of them?” he asked suddenly, turning to you once you reached his side, soft hands sliding up his arm gently. His own reached to circle around your waist, gently pulling you flush against his body. His eyes seemed to darken behind his glasses seated firmly on the bridge of his nose, your head tilting in confusion.

“They were.. generous, I suppose. Respectful, and wise in their business handlings. Why do you ask?” You lifted another hand to hold his bicep, eyes searching for his in the dimly lit room of his office, his warm breath brushing against your skin.

“Respectful? Hah.. Were they?” Zayne muttered to himself more than to you, eyes drifting from yours for a second. His hand on your waist tightens for a milisecond before he relaxes again, brows furrowing deep in return.

“They were practically ogling you, my love. Didn’t you notice?”

You raised a brow at him.

“They were? Really?” You queried, genuinely baffled at the revelation that you missed something like that. His hold clenches harder.

“Feigning ignorance now? Not a smart move, darling,” Zayne tested, eye twitching with unbearable irritation that those men got away with eyeing his wife up and down like meat at a wagyu restaurant.

“Zayne, I seriously didn’t notice,” you reassured, hands clinging onto him in hopes he’d see the sincerity in your eyes. You heard him exhale a huff, hold loosening on your waist, fingers rubbing idly over your clothes.

“.. Very well,” the man grunted, eyes closing shut for a moment as if attempting the ever churning turmoil inside him that formed since that same meeting earlier today. “But I’m not satisfied with just that, sweetheart.” Zayne shook his head simultaneously, tugging on your hand to lead you toward his desk, turning you around and placing your palm flat against the surface of his desk.

He manoeuvred to stand behind you, using the advantage he had by the brief moment of shock he gave you, the way your breath hitched, just by cupping his other hand onto curve of your waist, the one of yours holding you down firmly to prevent chances of escape. Though, he fully doubted you’d dare such a thing while knowing the consequences.

“Don’t get me wrong.. I know you’re all mine, darling. This is simply.. extra measures,” Zayne’s husky words from behind you only fed the anticipation coiling in your lower belly, feeling his hand leave your waist to unzip your pencil skirt with practiced ease, fingers tugging them down until they fell to the floor.

He left you trembling from the sharp cold of the air-conditioner, the thin lace of your panties doing little to prevent the heat from his skin to seep into you—specially, the rigid curve of his cock that strained in his pants brushing against your ass whenever he leaned in, motions calculated to have you dripping with arousal for him.

“Punishment or reward—I bet they’re both the same for you at this point, hm? Pleasurable regardless.. and you’ll take it all like a good girl, yes?” Zayne’s low yet clear mutter were accompanied by a drifting hand, leaving your side to travel to your behind, fingers hooking beneath your panties to tuck them into the cleft of your ass, making sure to leave the firm globes of your rear exposed for him to see, and touch.

A moment of silence passes, save for your shaky breathing that hitched when a sharp smack rang in the room from the impact his firm palm made with one of your ass cheeks, earning a yelp from your dry mouth.

“What do you say when your punishment is given?”

“I.. I’m sorry, sir.” Your head dips down, eyes searching to fixate on the details of the documents and papers scattered on his desk.

“And if a reward is given?”

“Thank you, sir,” you breathed, brows knitting and lips parting for a silent moan when his thick fingers drift lower between your legs, settling to grab the plump flesh of your thigh, thick fingers dangerously close to your folds.

He kneaded your inner thigh, fingers tightening to earn yet another reaction from you—your hips that lifted further to meet his touch, back arching for the mere reminder of the hard on you effortlessly gave him.

“Your ‘thank you’ sounds much sweeter, dove. I think I’ll settle for giving you a reward for now,” zayne decided, looming further towards your bowing back, fingers on top of yours curling to delve between them. His head lowered to rest a kiss onto your tense shoulder, inhaling and exhaling your scent as much as he could, swearing it was the only aphrodisiac and vice capable of making him fall into addiction.

just then, his hand holding your inner thigh loosened, shifting its trajectory upwards to tug on the flimsy fabric of your undergarment, skilled fingers sinking past your folds to find your already wet pussy. The man exerted little to no effort to penetrate your tight cunt, digits burying knuckle-deep into your heat.

Zayne held your hand the entire time, lips and defined nose nuzzled against your shoulder with his hand holding yours on his desk still. The mewls and moans he drew from your throat did little to settle the hungry desire within him, only feeding his desperate need to bring you to the heights of pleasure once again.

“Forgive me for being overbearing at times, my dear.. I just… can’t help myself around you when such intense feelings burn so painfully in my heart,” Zayne began behind your ear, fingers pistoning in and out of your thigh channel, feeling your velvety walls clamp down around his digits when he spoke. It seemed like he caught your attention even in the middle of a heated session such as this one.

“Mmhh, don’t you dare apologise for that—nnh” you murmured between short breaths, swallowing the saliva that collected in your mouth to stifle the moans clawing to be released. As much as you loved being vocal, you couldn’t forget that you were still in office.

zayne with his glasses previously perched on his nose bridge now beginning to slip down the slope of his nose, hummed softly at your response, leaning further to hold you close, nails digging into the soft skin of your palm on the table.

“Too kind for your own good yet again, huh..” he whispered more to himself than to you. Zayne’s fingers continued their clever strokes of your fluttering cunt, the increase of pitch in your hidden moans telling him more than he needed to know about your climax

“I am just being grateful for my loving husband.. like any other would if they had someone as good as you,” you huffed, voice slightly strained from the continuous pleasure he offered from his callous fingers, along with the never fading heat radiating from his hard cock that’s been rubbing against your ass the entire time.

“No, never any other.. There’s only ever you, my love,” he corrected, sounding unshakeably confident as he always when you mentioned the mere notion of any other person taking your place in his life.

Your husband wasn’t subtle, no. He relished in the thought of showing you how much he wanted you, needed you. His actions always spoke louder than his words did, but he balanced it off with verbal affirmation every time you two were done.

“Hmph.. persistent..” you muttered, turning your head away from where he was behind you to hide your face now the you felt heat creeping onto your cheeks at his smooth words.

“I’m only persistent on making you see and believe the truth,” zayne insisted, fingers pulling out of your squelching pussy the moment he felt you inching too close to the edge. He couldn’t help but chuckle lowly at the whimper you made when he left your sopping pussy empty, clamping down on air.

“W-wait, what’re you doing?” you whined, head lifting to turn over your shoulder, searching for him, his touch, anything. Instead, you were greeted with a demanding glare, thick brow raised at you as the sound of his metal buckle finally reached your ears. You turned away once again, not wanting him to change his mind.

“Flustered or scared—I can’t tell with you,” Zayne finally spoke after breaking the brief eye-contact he made with you earlier, undoing his belt and tugging the zipper of his pants down, repeating the same motion to push his boxer down just enough to reveal his fully erect cock.

His hand circled around his length, giving it a few lazy strokes, smearing the buds of pre-cum with his thumb around his tip before he positioned himself behind you, aligning his cock along your entrance. Zayne’s cockhead notched past your slit, hips surging forward slowly to sink his painfully aroused cock into your narrow channel, not bothering to stop until he was balls deep.

While one hand was held with yours still, the free one held tightly onto your hip, holding your squirming self in place before he began to fuck you, his breathing escalating along with his thrusts. Zayne could tell you were barely a few strokes away from cumming due to earlier foreplay, but at least it was reasonable.

Him on the other hand, he was embarrassingly an arm’s length away from his orgasm without even a touch to his dick, surviving from measly humps against your firm ass cheek whilst bringing out those pretty moans from your lips for all the staff and receptionists outside to hear when they got a few steps too close to his office doors.

“You’re too good a—haah— at this, darling.. make me cum too damn easily,” he mumbled, words barely coherent from the mingle of groans and moans in his throat as he fucked his needy cock into you silly, juices dripping down to coat his balls when they slapped against your clit. His grasp on your waist was equally unforgiving—thumb pressing down on the shallow of your spine, preventing your greedy cunt from fucking back into him.

your lips parted in an ‘o’ shape, unable to form a syllable of any other word that wasn’t his name— Zayne. And every time you did it, cried out for him between sobs or whorish moans, you could’ve swore he pulsed inside you, just waiting for the perfect time to spill its pent up load. And you craved it so terribly—the feeling of his hot, thick cum painting every crevice of your insides, feeling it swirl inside you whenever his thrusts would continue to ride out his orgasm.

Just as you wished in your blank, lust-dazed state, Zayne’s climax hit him like a freight-train, offering you the same effect when his grip became bruisingly firm, the first spurt of viscous, white semen hit your clenching inner-walls.

“Cumming— Zayne, ‘s too much, your cum’s gonna make me cum, fuck!” you wailed in erotic panic, nails scraping on the surface of his desk and his fingers nestled between yours, threatening to pierce the skin with the strength.

Right then, your orgasm hit you, overwhelming your already quivering body as squelch after squelch were made within his office when your juices flowed freely, creaming in a perfect mess around his cock.

Zayne’s chest heaved with exhaustion, strands of his groomed hair falling over his eyes as he collapsed onto you half-heartedly, still making an effort to not lay the entirety of his weight onto you shaking body.

“That’s my girl.. my wife,” he cooed softly by your ear once he collected himself a bit, breath still bated. Zayne kissed your shoulder once before hiding his face deep into your crook of your neck, lips peppering tender kisses onto your sweat sheened skin all the while his fingers laced with yours fidgeted with the cold metal of the wedding ring he placed onto you when he proposed.

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zoomclown · 6 months ago

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thinking about Jonathan Sims and Samama Khalid.

Thinking about how, by all laws of Horror Story Trope, Jon should not be the protagonist. If I'd never heard of tma and you showed me a lineup of the archives crew and asked me to guess who died first I would have pointed to Jon. He's the paranoid professor archetype. The one who dies discovering some crucial bit of information at the beginning to push the plot forward. He's unfriendly, cowardly, insecure, and makes other people do his investigation for him for all of season 1. He doesn't do anything even remotely heroic until the second half of the show. He has no interest in romance for the first half of the show. The audience wasn't even aware Jon had a dark past until he starts telling us about A Guest for Mr. Spider. But he is *Chosen.* Despite the fact that he has no actual qualities of a hero, he's chosen as the eyes special boy. Over the course of the show he starts to become more and more like an actual protagonist. He starts trying to save the world, resist the eye, all that jazz. For one reason or another, being the Archivist turns Jonathan "definition of a side character" Sims into the main character.

Then we have Sam. Sam starts acting like a horror/mystery protagonist almost immediately. He is young, charming, has a mysterious past (that we are made aware of pretty much right away) and a curiosity that causes him to frequently put himself personally in the path of The Horrors. He pokes around where he doesn't belong and looks for clues. He's the center of an office love triangle for goodness sake. He has a strong sense of duty to others and will put himself in harms way to protect those he loves. He exudes main character energy. He has everything a horror protagonist needs to push the plot along. But Sam wasn't *Chosen.* Despite being exactly the person you'd expect the plot to follow. And I can't help but wonder if, in the same way that the narrative made Jon important, it's going to make Sam unimportant. Irrelevant. If, with his rejection from The Magnus Institute, Sam is going to disappear completely. Become a mystery.

Because at the end of the day, so much of your life, your impact on the world, your relevance, has absolutely nothing to do with you. So much of it has everything to do with those in power, and whether they decide you're important.

It all comes down to your own rotten luck.

#the magnus archives #the magnus protocol pod #tma #Tmagp #The Magnus protocol #tma podcast #jonathan sims #samama khalid #the magnus archives podcast #Their only similarities is their general lack of self preservation instincts #And their guaranteed uselessness in a fight

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 10 months ago

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just for tonight

a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).

summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?”

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4907

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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”

“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always.

“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”

Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing.

But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side.

It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow.

Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking.

You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.

“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you.

“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips.

“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.”

A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”

The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late.

You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.

“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”

“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you.

A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you.

The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit.

Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep.

When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed.

Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form.

But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.

“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut.

And so, he didn’t.

Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed.

Barely an hour passed before you woke.

Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain.

Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath.

“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times.

“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.”

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”

As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”

Your eyes then widened, “I did?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug.

Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you.

“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked.

“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.”

A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.”

Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door.

Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”

He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.

When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine.

As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.

And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer.

But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back.

“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”

“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”

“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”

A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”

“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”

“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.”

Can’t or won’t?

Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?”

As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips.

It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen.

As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.

Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks.

With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features.

“Yes,” you whispered swiftly.

But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”

“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin.

“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone.

“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core.

“To what, huh?”

“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth.

“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.

“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you.

“Say it again,” he tilted his chin.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks.

“I want you to fuck me, please!”

With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.

Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra.

Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.

Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well.

You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off.

Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours.

Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle.

The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff.

When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch.

Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy.

A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit.

“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch.

“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”

“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.”

Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.

Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess.

“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.

Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper.

When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity.

Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him.

With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him.

The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you.

Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him.

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”

Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up.

Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic.

When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free.

“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal.

Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?”

“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.”

“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.

“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh.

“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.”

“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…”

“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times.

“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach.

Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.

“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets.

“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.

“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately.

“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”

“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside.

His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him.

Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open.

Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him.

Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.

“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”

One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach.

“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”

“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up.

A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable.

He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth.

“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”

With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below.

Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit.

The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.

“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own.

“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.

Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace.

The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back.

“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”

“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half.

“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.”

And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.

His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own.

You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.

After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table.

“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.

“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south.

“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?”

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darkst4lker · 4 months ago

Text

detention. // remus lupin

professor!lupin x fem!reader

plot: on your last day of sixth year, you get detention with professor lupin, developing a huge crush on him since then. two years later, you graduated from hogwarts and were invited to join the order of phoenix by the weasley twins, so you arrive at the black family house where you've been provided with a place to stay by the order after recently being kicked out of your home. is then when you discovered that you would have to live under the same roof not only with sirius, but also with your big crush from years ago, remus lupin.

tw: professor x ex-student, nothing inappropriate happened when y/n was a minor, like a huge age gap (reader is 19, almost 20), mostly romance/fluff i guess, a little angst, mentions of the reader being a slytherin, reader is friends with the twins but she's older than them by a year, mentions of smoking, sirius black being sirius black it's his own warning, low caps on purpose.

notes: english is not my first language, thank you for the support on the other one-shots!!! ALSO HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! ♡♡ xoxo.

ps: i wrote this listening to speak now (the whole album) by taylor swift and it was an INTENSE experience.

it was your last day of sixth year and you couldn't believe that your last hours before dinner and taking the train were going to be spent on remus lupin office. now you really regretted following the twin's ideas for once.

in your eyes it was an innocent last-day-of-school prank, but it ended up with you three accidentally setting the whopping willow aflame for like twenty seconds before the three of you managed to stop the fire. yet, professor snape was the one to see the whole sequence of events, meaning he was completely livid and not so forgiving as others professors could be so he sent you and the twins straight to detention.

and that's how you ended up in professor lupin empty classroom, in detention, for three hours. of course snape separated you from the twins, so not only you were going to be sitting in one of the classroom benches for a long time, you were also alone.

remus was finishing getting some papers in order as he supervised you, and you sat quietly in the front row, completely bored as you looked at what he was doing to entertain yourself. in one moment, his eyes went to you, noticing your clearly irritated face.

the moment snape appeared in his door grabbing you and made him take care of your detention time (only to put more work on him last minute, he believed) you made him remember the times he used to do the same stupid shit with sirius, james and peter.

so, for the sake of the old times and the fact this was the last day of school, he decided to make your detention a little bit more entertaining.

“miss (l/n).” he called you, his voice calm as always.

“professor lupin.” you answered, still irritated but with the energy to speak ironically.

“what were you trying to do with the twins?” remus asked you, a subtle smile on his lips. he was looking at his work while he talked to you.

“when?” you answered smiling, trying to play dumb because the fact that the prank went terribly wrong embarrassed the hell out of you.

remus stopped organizing his paperwork as he raised his eyes from his work to give you a serious “don't pretend you don't understand” look, making you sigh in redemption.

“okay, im sorry professor, stop looking at me like that. it frightens me a bit.” you admitted as you rolled your eyes. “we were trying to set fireworks that were meant to activate when everyone went outside to take the carriages.”

his eyes relaxed when he got and answer and he continued with his work. he seemed to be just minutes away to finishing with his paperwork, though.

“you know, when i was your age i did the same kind of things with my friends.” remus said, chuckling a bit.

“no way.” you answered, clearly in disbelief. remus looked at you smiling softly for a moment.

“i swear” he added, and you instantly laughed.

“for merlin's sake!” you exclaimed, enjoying his confession and now feeling less alone than before. “the mysterious and innocent looking professor lupin ended up being a troublemaker, who could have guessed it?” you said, laughing.

he smiled as you laughed, still working on his papers.

“mysterious?” remus asked, an eyebrow raising in curiosity.

“y'know, what the other girls always say about you.” you added, trying to reference the constant things you heard from your classmates. “that you're mysterious because of your-... y'know.” you pointed at your face to reference his scars with all the delicacy you had. being a slytherin didn't helped a lot with having much tact, but for remus you tried. remus on the other hand, was usually uncomfortable with his scars but it warmed his heart a little that his students didn't think his face was completely unpleasant, as he did.

“they also say that you appear to be sweet and kind” you kept enlisting what you always heard, things that you also thought. things, that you firmly believed he didn't needed to know you thought. “and of course what i consider a classic at this point: that you're beautiful.” you ended up, a little smile on your lips.

remus stayed silent for a second before answering. a yawn scaped your lips as you were really tired. the whole thing with snape scolding you and the twins into oblivion had left you exahusted, yet you guessed remus wouldn't let you sleep on detention.

“those are all the things they say about me?” he asked, calmly. his apparently soft lips giving you a warm smile. somehow inside your chest you knew he wasn't as pure as he appeared.

in your eyes, remus had the look of a wounded man who couldn't afford to be innocent because he was already rotting since long ago, his soul marked with the kiss of something beautiful enough to torture a man.

there had to be a reason for the way this man was always looking like he knew something you didn't.

“yes. i think all the girls have a crush on you.” you said, answering his question like if your mind wasn't lingering on the way his fingers moved while manipulating every paper in his desk. that's what finally made you realize that in some point you were included in the affirmation you said, because remus lupin was too kind with everything and everyone for you to not end up completely mesmerized.

yet, you thought it was natural for you to develop a crush when this man guided your hand with his in class and whispered sweet instructions in your ear when he picked you to make a demonstration. i mean, who would not feel butterflies around him was the right question.

“i never noticed.” he lied, because in fact he did noticed, but it was fun to have someone gossiping with him about the class rumours. not that remus specifically enjoyed them though, but sometimes he felt like a gossip when discussing with, for example, minerva about all the things other students commented about him.

and right now, you were the one making him feel like a gossip. he honestly believed that you were his funniest student but also the most oblivious one.

oblivious, because you truly believed he didn't noticed you were one of the girls crushing on him too.

you smiled at remus, looking at him for a moment. you were aware that he probably lied about not noticing what the girls commented of him. he had this delicate demeanor in his face features that you couldn't fully explain, even if his skin was full of scars.

and every single one of those scars felt like a whole mistery waiting for you to solve. what you didn't knew yet, was that his scars were a prophecy of his damnation.

“i thought every teacher noticed.” you stated, smiling tiredly at him. as your thoughts became a little cloudy, you could notice that you were about to fall asleep, so you felt like you had to ask remus if you could rest a moment, or at least warn him. “professor lupin” you called him.

“yes, (y/n)?” remus answered, using your name. a chuckle settled in his lips as he used the same ironic tone you used earlier when he called your name.

maybe it was the fact that you were sixteen at the time, and your hormones were crazy or the way you suddenly started struggling to stay awake, but something in the way your name came out of his lips made you feel like you had a cloud of furious butterflies inside your body, eager to come out of you. his voice made your name sound so elegant that every letter curled in your guts and twisted your heart like a siren call straight from the deepest ocean.

a subtle blush settled on your cheeks, and you took a deep breath as you noticed how his smell was all over the classroom: chocolate, parchment, coffee, old book pages. autumn.

being in sixth grade meant that the amortentia was on your class program, and after some time alone with professor lupin, you quickly connected the dots of what was exactly the scent you smelt that one time snape put a calderon full of amortentia in front of your class and asked what was it.

yet you were getting too sleepy to deal with the huge crush you just realized you had with remus lupin in that moment. « i'll handle it next year » you thought, like if he wasn't in your amortentia scent, before finally answering him.

“nothing, i was just going to ask if it would be possible for me to take a quick nap here” you asked him, smiling clearly tired. “please professor lupin, snape exahusted the hell out of me.” you added, as if the plea would do something to help your case.

remus looked at you clearly trying not to laugh at the things you said. if you only knew he detested him just as you did, and that he always got exahusted from dealing with severus too.

he let out a deep breath before answering.

“go ahead. you do seem tired.” he said, having a little mercy on you. “i'll wake you when detention it's over.” remus added, now having finished with his paperwork and opening a book he had in his desk. it was the last day of school, and he felt like you deserved a little of good will from him.

you rested your head on your arms against the bench, closing your eyes softly.

“thank you professor, that's why you're my favourite.” you said, finally letting the sleep trap you in his arms.

remus watched over your dreams with the affection only him could possess. the sweetness he lacked as a wolf, he had it as a human.

so, when you had sleep over almost all your detention time, remus stood up from his desk chair and walked over you to finally woke you from your well deserved nap, fifteen minutes before dinner.

“y/n” he said, calmly. “y/n” he repeated.

you opened your eyes, moved your head a bit and looked up at him, standing up in front of you.

“good evening, professor.” your answer came out sleepy, pieces of your dreams lingering on your body.

“good evening, y/n.” he smiled at you from above. “here, take this.” remus said, placing a piece of chocolate in your bench, next to your head. “it'll wake you up a little.”

you didn't answer, as you were still trying to keep your eyes open.

“i need to get all these papers to my office, please leave the classroom door closed when you go to the great hall” he added, ruffling your hair with kindness before grabbing a pile of papers on his desk and leaving you alone in the classroom with the piece of chocolate as his only remain.

when you were awake enough, in the solitude of the classroom, you ate the chocolate piece and left, too excited and flustered with what just happened to remember that you had to leave the class door closed.

after that day you went home, spent your vacations there until your seventh year started, and when you got to hogwarts and dumbledore announced that your new professor of defense against dark arts was going to be alastor moody, your stomach dropped to your feet in deception.

that was the exact moment you damned your sleepy ass and how you thought you could do something about your crush «next year». you couldn't. you wouldn't.

and the worst part is that you knew that even if remus were there, nothing would have ever happen. he was a good man, and you were just a stupid girl thinking you stood a single chance with him. or maybe not, but still you wanted to see him every day again if it was possible.

the first night of your seventh year you cried like a heartbroken girl in your bed because you thought you wouldn't see remus again, and none of your dorm mates knew what happened to you or how they could help.

the only ones who knew what was happening to you were fred and george, because they were your best friends, and even if they did everything to make you feel better you were still crying for weeks like if someone had died.

and, being aware that harry potter surely would know what happened with lupin, the twins borderline interrogated him for days until he spilled out what he knew. so fred and george came back to you with the whole story: lupin was a werewolf and he had to quit because snape sniched on him with the students parents. obviously, you scolded them because harry had enough to think about with someone slipping his name into the goblet of fire but you were extremely grateful, and now you had an excuse to murder snape.

yet, you also had an answer to all the questions you had about remus. why his face was full of scars, why he looked so emotionally wounded, why he always seemed to know something you didn't, why he disappeared once per month. he was a werewolf.

so, settling with the fact that you would probably never hear of him again you kept your broken heart and your silly little crush in a box, graduated from hogwarts and went home. until one day, an owl with a letter woke you up early in the morning crashing into your window. you recognized fred's messy calligraphy.

« dear (y/n):

well that sounded awful. anyways, how is it going? be kind enough to write us a letter one of these days, we've been missing you.

since you're sooo good doing crazy shit with your wand (almost like us) me and george fred george recommended you to our parents for a little organization that's starting to rise again. we cannot explain more since y'know, the ministry is intercepting owls like crazy.

please come on september 9th at night to 12 grimmauld place. don't use flu. or maybe just come to our house first and we can take you there. yes, that's it, come to our home and we'll go together to grimmauld place.

we expect a letter to confirm your answer. or maybe just a letter telling us about you. please write us we're desperate!! and we miss you!!

ps: lupin will be there ;) SO SAY YES!!

sincerely yours,

fred george george and fred fred and george weasley »

you laughed at the whole letter, and when you read about remus being there, you decided to do what they asked you. you quickly wrote an answer and sent the owl back to them saying yes, but your parents ended up finding their letter.

your parents weren't the most tolerant people, being wizards with an opulent life and purist ideas just like the malfoys, so of course they weren't happy about you receiving a letter not from one but two weasleys. and for once you stood up to fight them back, confessing you planned to go with your friends.

that was the last straw, and days before of what fred and george stated, you were in their front door because your parents kicked you out of home with promises of disinherit you. you were a blood traitor on their eyes now.

the weasleys kindly received you and finally explained for what organization they were trying to recruit you: the order of the phoenix.

you agreed to join gladly, out of rage for your parents ideals and out of impotence because you openly believed what harry said: voldemort was back.

and, just as fred and george promised, on september 9th everyone went to grimmauld place, you included. it was a shiny full moon night and when you and the weasleys stood in front of the door, for a second you wondered if remus was okay. if his transformations were painful, if he was going to be comforted after.

when you got inside the house, the weasleys revealed to you that the plan was for you to stay at grimmauld place, and keep sirius black (who you recently found out that was an innocent) company the most part of the year. you were told that everyone would pass from time to time and that remus was probably going to be staying there the most of the time too.

so, you met sirius, who guided you to his deseaced mother's room and told you to leave your things there since you were going to be living there full time. you settled up and after a lovely dinner that molly prepared, you officially joined the order.

it almost felt like a fever dream, days ago you were at your parents house, and now you were joining a resistance and just hours away from seeing remus lupin again. a part of you was excited and other was scared of falling in love with him, heartbeat going crazy just at the idea of sharing a home with him.

you went to bed in the middle of a haze, the sheets embraced you with tenderness as you closed your eyes and the fatigue of all the events clouding your life catched up with you. you had a dreamless sleep until a scream suddenly waked you.

you didn't found time to change as you got out of bed almost running, worried that something had happened. yet, the moment you went down the stairs you saw arthur, sirius, moody and molly (who was clearly agitated and you guessed she was also the one who screamed) looking at someone laying in the sofa of the living room.

it was late for you to go back unnoticed, as sirius instantly saw you.

“(y/n)” he said, tenderly. “i apologize if we woke you.”

you didn't answered because in the exact moment he talked to you, arthur moved from his place and you saw the face you never thought you would ever see again.

remus layed on the sofa, his face was extremely pale and full of scraches, he had a nasty wound on his chest and in general, he looked sick. molly was helping to treat the deep cut on his chest and you quickly realized that was probably what made her scream.

you looked at sirius, your expression soaked in concern for remus state. it was almost unrealistic seeing him like this but you finally understood the violence involved in being cursed by the moon.

it was the first time you saw him in two years but your eyes couldn't fully believe what they were seeing. the one you adored so much in deep secret, was injured and almost unconscious.

a part of you knew you didn't had to seem extremely worried if you intended to keep your secret, but it was hard for you to restrain your feelings.

“is he-...” you doubted before the words escaped your lips. “is he going to be alright?”

no one but sirius payed attention to your presence as they were focused on remus. he looked at you with reassurance as you stood on the doorframe.

“yes, yes. do not worry, he has been worse.” sirius answered, giving you a calm smile. “go back to sleep, tomorrow it's going to be a long day and we'll have a meeting.” he added, as his attention went back to remus.

your feet refused to move for a couple of seconds and just when you were about to turn back and go to bed, remus eyes met yours. his gaze subtly widened and you felt like a deer in lights, provoking you to almost run upstairs just the way you did a couple minutes ago.

but as you left, remus felt ashamed of himself. after not seeing you for so long, suddenly now you knew what he was, who he was. what the beast inside of him provoked every full moon.

at the same time everyone treated his wounds, trying to make him feel better, in his mind he cursed his lycanthropy. remus couldn't help but feel like a constant burden, a beast who had to be kept captive.

as a couple of days went by, you didn't saw remus at all. molly insisted on him resting some days in bed since he was injured and his transformation had been quite violent so you only heard the news that she or sirius brought back of remus state when they went to check on him.

until one night you couldn't sleep, and you decided to go downstairs for a cup of tea. you tried to be silent as you got out of your room in your pajamas and went to the kitchen.

but oblivious as you always were, you didn't noticed that as you prepared your tea, your back facing the doorframe, someone else was also getting into the kitchen but with the intention to get a coffee.

“good evening, miss (l/n)” you jumped back as the teasing voice of remus lupin scared you, making you drop a bit of tea over the counter.

“shit-... prof- sorry-...” you said, surprised and nervous. the words struggled to find an order while coming out of your lips but you realized in time that remus wasn't you professor anymore and that he was probably joking.

the way he said your last name scratched your brain in a oddly specific way. or well, everything he said had that effect on you.

“im sorry, i didn't meant to-...” remus started to say but you interrupted his words, turning to face him.

“don't worry it's okay, i didn't thought someone else would be awake.” you answered, smiling at him.

the moment you looked at him you noticed that remus had the same loving and sweet gaze he had two years ago. all this time you believed that you may had been delusional about your crush over him, that maybe you had set a extremely high standard or that this was all a product of the idealized remus you had on your brain, but no.

as you saw him standing there, a comfortable brown sweater on his body and his now healed scratches on his face you realized that the man you've been crushing on was as wounded and broken as you once remembered. the same tender look on his eyes being a constant reminder of the cruelty of his destiny at the hands of the moonlight.

“you can call me remus, by the way.” he clarified, smiling at you and you nodded.

“remus... sounds good. better than professor lupin.” your answer was a little bold but you felt relief when he chuckled. “so, what are you doing here this late?” you asked as the cup of tea went to your lips and you took a sip, testing the temperature.

“i could ask you the same, you know?” remus smiled as he walked closer to the counter, meaning he was closer to you too. “i was craving coffee, and since the days after the full moon i can never sleep, a night coffee it seemed like a good idea.” he added, as he started preparing one. “also this is the only place in the house where molly allows me to smoke.” he said whispering playful like if he was telling you a secret.

then you gave a quick look at the ceiling and noticed that had some stains. stains caused by the cigarette smoke, you guessed.

you smiled at him and took another sip of your tea.

“are you feeling better, then?” you finally asked him, curious and nervous. the question had been repressed in your chest for a couple of days.

“well, sirius and molly took good care of me.” remus said, still preparing his coffee. “i feel a little numb this time, though. it was more intense than usually.”

“i was a bit worried.” you admitted, looking at his hot coffee on the counter, and then directing your eyes to his.

“i know, i saw you. and i heard you.” he answered, now grabbing a cigarette he had tucked behind his ear. “i thought you were scared of me, by the way you ran upstairs when i looked at you.” remus smiled a bit while speaking, but it became a melancholic smile when he said those last sentences. then he put he cigarette on his lips like a tender death kiss.

you realized how he was probably insecure about his nature. for him, a death omen. but for you, it felt like the moon loved him so much she needed to have him for herself once a month. but it was a exhausting love, the kind of love that consumes you to the core of your being and hurts your soul.

yet you wondered what kind of love remus had to offer, and if he indeed had feelings for someone inside his chest, who would be the one blessed with remus love.

when remus lighted the cigarette, he took a deep drag and released the smoke with a certain elegance that you couldn't explain.

“no, i could never-...” you stopped yourself from saying something you would probably regret. “i wasn't scared, i was embarrassed. i thought i was being intrusive. it was one hell of a entrance after not seeing you for two years, though.”

he smiled at you, more relaxed than before as he leant against the kitchen counter. the hand that didn't held the cigarette was now grabbing his coffee and your eyes quickly made their way to his fingers against the cup. you felt like you were sixteen again, looking at his hands.

when he answered your gaze found his again.

“you're right, it's been a long time.” remus took a sip of his coffee. “i hope you didn't got in much trouble after i left.”

“i became a bit worse.” you admitted. then your lips kept moving, saying things you didn't thought you would ever admit. “i used to have a crush on you, back in hogwarts. i was sad when you left.”

remus smirked, the cigarette separating from his lips before he responded.

“i know, the twins told me some weeks ago, before one of the meetings.” he confessed, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “they said you cried.”

a deep blush crept into your cheeks, and a intense feeling of embarrassment settled in your stomach. you left the tea on the counter, and covered your face.

“oh for merlin's sake, i can't believe they told you.” your hands left your face and you stared at the floor for a second.

“if it makes you feel better, i already knew.” remus said, finishing his cigarette.

you stared at him in disbelief.

“since when?” you asked, feeling like you could die of embarrassment.

“since the day you had detention with me.” he answered, calmly. “it is true? you cried?” remus curiosity won over him.

you sighed, defeated.

“yes, i cried.” your words were shy, but then you became a little confident. “fred and george told me snape was the one that made you quit, so he became my pranks target and i got a lot of detention time.”

remus laughed, and that made you blush even more and your heartbeat raised to the ceiling. he finished his coffee and spoke.

“i pity him, i wouldn't dare to provoke the rage of a young woman.” remus answered. “even less yours.”

“why-...?” you were about to grab your cup of tea again as you responded but his hand moved to the kitchen counter counter in that exact moment, meeting your hand with his.

when your hands touched, it felt like a shock of electricity running through your whole body. you instantly pulled back from his contact, looking at the floor.

feeling like you had your heart stuck in your throat, an inevitable realization came to you like a rush of adrenaline. you were too far gone for this to be only a crush. you've spent two years loving him endlessly, and now that you were with him you could only wonder if you would've kept loving remus like this if the twins hadn't recruited you, and he weren't beside you in this exact moment.

the typical boldness that layed on your chest had left you for a moment and you needed to take a deep breath. when the words came to you, they were far more brave that you could ever imagine.

“what if this crush never faded?” your voice trembled for a second. “what if it became worse?”

remus sighed and took his hand to your chin and forced you to look a him in the eyes in a sweet gesture.

“we can't, i'm too old for you.” he said, almost in a whisper.

“i never cared about that.” you answered in a heartbeat.

“well, i do care. it's not only the age, it's-...” he made a brief pause. “i'm dangerous, (y/n). im not good for you at all.”

“i don't care, remus. i'm not scared of you.” you moved closer, you could be in front of him.

remus was taller than you, a detail that never failed to make you weak before him. you looked up at his eyes.

“you don't even know me properly.” his voice sounded a bit shaky.

“i never thought i did, yet i always had the desire to do so.” everything he had to said, you've already had thought an argument ages ago thinking of all the things he could say if this situation happened.

and you never thought it would, but luckily the gods or whatever above heard the constant plea of your heart.

“i can't keep a job because i'm a werewolf, (y/n) please think of what you're saying for a second-...” you interrupted him.

“you could say your face will turn green every night and i wouldn't care. please, just give me one chance.” you said, almost in a whisper. a sweet plea for him to spare your heart.

remus thought you were a beautiful woman, brave, ambitious and oddly astute. an intelligence made for chaos and not exactly for books, but he knew better than to ruin you and in his eyes just even trying to date you would feel like setting on fire to your promising life.

he was a monster, fearful that his lycanthropy could hurt you or affect you forever, not to mention he was frightened that his children could end up being cursed like him.

but then he looked at you, so willing to have him, so in love and he felt his heart melting.

maybe you could try, right? just a try.

“i-...” remus began to say. “i think we can try.”

you sighed in relief as you got closer to him, your chest almost touching his.

his smell clouded your mind the same way it did years ago and you knew in your insides that if you someone put amortentia in fron of you, you would feel his scent as you once did: chocolate, parchment, coffee, old book pages. the smell of autumn itself.

his eyes, his voice, his smell, all of him provoked your chest to feel like it was about to explode, enchanting your mind like if some sort of love spell was being casted on your soul.

and now, he was yours. all yours.

one of your wildest dreams came true, and you knew your heart needed to seal the moment the best way you could. there was a gift, an offering to be made at the altar of your love.

there was something you never dared to give anyone else before, because no man was like him.

“you know, i saved something special for a moment like this.” the confession came out of your lips as you grabbed his face to lure him like a beautiful nymph and make him lean into your direction.

and even if he didn't say anything. your words hit remus straight on the face, twisting his guts and he just couldn't believe how nervous he was.

when his eyes looked at you as you grabbed his face and got closer, to him you looked divine just as a superior being could be.

in the moment you kissed him, it was a sweet kiss that made remus shiver from head to toe and take his hands to your waist almost like if you were made of glass.

the first time you kissed someone and it was him. it felt like you were putting a blessing on his soul, fixing even if it was just fo a second, the damage of his eternal curse.

remus wondered if he was the one who would fell in love deeper, noticing the control you had over him just with a kiss, how he suddenly could fall to his knees if you asked.

the soft exchange between your lips ended when a voice interrupted you both.

“for merlin's beard, moony.” sirius voice spoke from the doorframe. as remus avoided his look ashamed, you looked at him a bit irritated for interrupting. “don't look at me like that, (y/n). i didn't expected to find people kissing inside my kitchen when i came here to drink water.” he smirked, mocking you both

after a couple of seconds you laughed at his words, and remus followed you. the first fifteen minutes into this uncommon thing you had and you were already laughing at sirius together.

remus felt relieved and for a moment he believed that any difficulties you could have, you'll both be able to work it out together.

maybe it didn't matter if he was a werewolf or if you were this younger, or if he was frightened to hurt you.

because maybe remus wasn't as cursed as he thought.

i hope you enjoyed this, i spent DAYS writing it and im glad i got to release it for halloween!!! xoxo.

1K notes · View notes

darkmatilda · 18 days ago

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𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: each of you—especially spencer—knew that the words let's split up never ended well. yet, they still escaped his lips, something he would regret for the rest of his days. now, held captive, you must decide whether to place your hope in being rescued by the team or to start a psychological game with the unsub and escape on your own.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x bau!female reader, kidnapping, psychological and physical torture, captivity, bloodletting, reader attempting to commit s (to end their suffering), split narrative, performing a ritual, mention of sexual abuse, everything being broadcasted live by the unsub, incestous relationship, sad but not tragic ending

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 14.8 k

𝐚/𝐧: i admit, there’s not much romance in this, and yep, probably the freakiest shit i've written so far. a slightly modified request from an anon—really hope you like it. i hate how i described this investigation. please overlook the absolute lack of logic at times (especially in the beginning) (in my defense i've never kidnapped anyone lol). oh, almost forgot, happy valentine's day (to those who celebrate) <3

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/ˌmetəˈmɔːfəsɪs/ a change of the form or nature of a thing or person into a completely different one

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You took a step back when your friend threw herself at you with a joyful squeal, wrapping her arms around your neck.

"Happy, happy birthday, my dearest!" Penelope exclaimed.

"My dearest?" you echoed, raising an eyebrow. A wide smile stretched across your face as you remained in her firm embrace, breathing in the pleasant scent of her sweet perfume. "Wait till Morgan hears that..."

"I heard," a deep voice sounded behind you. "But just for today, I'll let it slide. Happy birthday, kid."

Turning around, you spotted Morgan and Prentiss stepping out of the office elevator, each holding an identical cup of coffee. Both had smiles on their faces, and both pulled you into tight hugs while Garcia and Rossi were providing a cappella, completely off-key performance of Happy Birthday

In seconds your hands were full—two gift bags and a box, and you hadn’t even managed to take off your coat yet. You thanked everyone with genuine warmth and gratitude but didn’t want to drag out the moment too long. It was still morning before work officially started, and you were already running later than usual. JJ had practically begged you to stop by first thing because your godson, Henry, simply couldn’t wait to give you his gift and wish you a happy birthday.

Either way, you had already been hugged by everyone—except…

“Come back in five minutes,” Hotch instructed the two of you, nodding at the rest of the team. “We need to get started on the case.”

And just like that, you and Reid were left alone—a surprisingly thoughtful decision from your boss. You were just friends, of course. Just like the rest of the team…okay, maybe a little closer than that.

“Here, let me help,” he offered, watching with a soft smile as Garcia’s massive gift nearly slipped from your grasp. True to his word, he carefully took it from you and placed it on your desk with the kind of caution usually reserved for handling evidence.

“Are you doing this because you’re an altruist,” you teased, “or because you’re afraid Pen would murder you if her present got damaged on your watch?”

“Why do you assume she’d only murder me?”

“Because I have a birthday,” you said matter-of-factly. “It’s weird to hurt someone on their birthday, don’t you think? Pretty sure even savoir vivre has something to say about that.”

Reid let out a short laugh, but whatever he was about to say next seemed to get caught in his throat. Under different circumstances, he probably would have kept talking, but time wasn’t on your side. In five minutes, you’d both have to return to a world filled with kidnappings, murders, and violence.

“So…” he started, briefly glancing down at his shoes before slowly reaching into the pocket of his blazer. “Oh—first and foremost, happy birthday. I know you’ve already heard that about a hundred times today, but…”

“But not from you.”

“Happy birthday,” he exhaled, almost nervously.

You frowned slightly, wondering why he seemed so worked up over this.

“Sorry, I just…I spent a lot of time trying to figure out if you’d like this gift, and I really wanted to see your reaction. So much so that I kind of forgot to actually say happy birthday.” He let out a nervous chuckle. “Anyway, I hope that…”

He stopped short at the look on your face.

For a moment, you just stared at what he was holding, lips slightly parted, completely silent. Then, slowly, a delighted smile spread across your face.

“You hope I’ll like it?” you repeated, shaking your head in disbelief. “Tickets to Heathers? Spence, of course I love it! You know how much I love musicals, and oh my god, I wanted to see this so badly…”

You opened your arms to hug him—but then hesitated.

You knew he was one of those people who tended to avoid physical contact, and his comfort had always been your priority. Even after all these years of friendship, you had only truly hugged a handful of times. And by truly, you meant something more than the brief, passing embraces that came with birthdays or other celebrations.

Spencer caught your gaze, his lips parting slightly as if he was about to say something. But instead, he simply gave a small nod—and wrapped his arms around you. The corners of your lips lifted again—though, honestly, you weren’t sure they’d ever really dropped. Not that he could see it, not with your hands resting against the fabric of his sweater and his chin lightly hovering over your shoulder.

You let out a soft sigh as you pulled away, reluctant but aware that time was chasing you both. Besides, you had something to show him.

There was a quiet tension in the air as you slowly stepped back, just barely out of his arms. Spencer watched intently as you reached into your coat pocket.

“Henry gave me this this morning,” you said, handing him the homemade card your godson had made. A small, knowing smile tugged at Spencer’s lips even before he took it, his gaze dropping to the stick figure that was supposed to be you. “He said I’m his favorite aunt in the whole world,” you added, a playful lilt in your voice. “But I’m not supposed to tell Uncle Spence because it might make him sad.”

He placed a dramatic hand on his chest, his eyes flickering between the card and you, back and forth.

"That would have really hurt my feelings," he began, "if he hadn't told me the exact same thing on my birthday."

You burst into laughter. With a small nod, you gestured that you should head back to the rest of the team. Walking side by side, you made your way in the right direction.

"Should we tell JJ that there's a little liar growing up under her roof?" you asked along the way.

"Well, the lying phase is actually a natural stage of child development," he mused. "A lack of distinction between fantasy and reality, a desire to please adults—there are various reasons. So I think we can spare her that particular worry. At least he's empathetic."

You had already reached the door to the briefing room, but before either of you could grab the handle, Spencer stepped forward slightly, stopping you in your tracks. You looked at him, a bit surprised by the gesture.

"And by the way..." he began, his tone drastically different from the one you'd been using just moments ago. You saw him swallow, carefully choosing his words. "Are...are you okay? The case we're working on...it seems to be affecting you a lot. You have dark circles under your eyes."

You had the urge to scoff defensively and sarcastically thank him for the compliment. You probably would have with anyone else—but with him, you never felt the need to hide your worries. It was easier to admit to them. Easier, but not easy.

You took a deep breath, lowering your gaze as you nodded.

"I just really want to catch these people," you admitted quietly, truthfully. "It's been going on for too long. They've hurt too many girls..." You clenched your eyes shut, avoiding his gaze, which was filled with concern. You nodded toward the door in front of you. "Come on."

He watched you for a brief moment before sighing and stepping aside to let you go first.

Soon all of you were seated around the long table, noses buried in the case files. Penelope was briefing you on a new discovery related to the case you were working on—the one that, as Reid had noted, had been keeping you up at night. She kept her gaze averted from the image on the screen, never able to handle such sights well. And the body of a young woman, drained of every last drop of blood, was particularly disturbing.

"Just like in the previous cases, abandoned seven days after the abduction," she announced, clasping her hands at stomach level. "I’ve been tracking them—I mean, really staring at my screen for hours, even more than usual—but our twins haven’t streamed a single broadcast since then."

"We've entered the transition phase," Hotch said quietly, though his rough voice, as always, carried enough weight to reach even you and Reid, seated farthest from him. "Their ritual failed. They disposed of the body and now need time to prepare for the next one. Restocking supplies, medications, medical equipment."

"This is when we should strike," Prentiss said, leaning both elbows on the table. "They're out of their hideout, likely making transactions, meeting with suppliers. It's all illegal, of course, but the underground market, or at least part of it is under our surveillance…"

This case was difficult.

Usually, you followed a certain pattern. First, there was the crime. Then, piece by piece, you uncovered the missing fragments of a complex puzzle, eventually identifying the unsub. Or unsubs, as in this case. When dealing with an abduction, the final step was typically locating the victim’s holding site.

And that was exactly where you were stuck—on this fucking last step—for yet another week.

In the meantime, one of the unsubs had launched a career as a streamer, broadcasting their actions—at least fragments of them—on the dark web. The streams started at irregular hours, lasted for inconsistent amounts of time, and seemed almost spontaneous. He had to believe that he would attract psychos like himself and his sister—people who would be fascinated by the process.

As strange as it sounded, moving the crime online had actually filled you with a twisted sense of hope.

You thought it would make everything simple. Garcia would trace their location, or maybe, by watching the streams, you’d catch some clue that would lead you right to them.

Nothing could have been further from the truth.

He only ever showed you that one room—a space resembling a hospital ward that could have been anywhere. It could have been hidden in the basement of any house in the country, inside some abandoned warehouse, on a remote farm miles away from civilization. Anywhere.

The only thing that had changed was that now you could see the victims' faces. You could watch the hope drain from their eyes as they realized no one was coming to save them.

And that thought drove you to madness.

How you even uncovered their identities and names was an even more complicated story. It all started with an offhand theory Reid had muttered under his breath—one that no one had paid much attention to at first, but which later escalated into the truth.

You had already known there were two unsubs. Their names were Lavinia and Leon Schuyler—thirty-three-year-old twins. Well, technically, triplets.

Piecing together fragments of their lives, you discovered they had another sister, Lydia. The three of them had spent their childhood deeply bonded, drifting from one dysfunctional foster home to another. Since the third sibling wasn’t involved in their crimes, you concluded she had recently died. That theory was reinforced by the fact that their victims all resembled her—and that during the streams, Leon addressed them by one name Lydia.

And, once again, through analysis, you realized what all of this was leading to.

The twins believed they could bring their sister back to life.

You had all of this. But until you had their location, it was as if you had nothing at all.

"Prentiss is right," Derek announced, his hand tightening around his coffee cup. "Our best chance is to track them now, while they’re searching for their next victim. Because we all agree there will be another, right?"

He wasn’t looking for confirmation—everyone knew cases like this didn’t just end.

Hotch nodded thoughtfully. "That’s our job for today," he began. "Not just today—we keep looking until we find them. We need to reach out to our informants, track down their supplier for drugs and medical equipment. And we need to pinpoint the location where the transaction might take place."

With a quiet sigh, you rubbed your forehead, fully aware that the next few hours would be pure informational chaos. But you were completely prepared to dive into it—anything to finally bring this case, the one that had been keeping you up at night, to an end.

In a perfect scenario, that would happen before another victim was taken.

♊︎

"Guess this isn’t how you planned to spend your birthday evening?" Reid asked.

With your hands resting on the steering wheel, you gave a small shrug. He might not have even seen the gesture in the dimly lit car, the empty road ahead reflecting the brief flashes of headlights cutting through the night.

"I wasn't in the mood to celebrate anyway," you admitted.

Under different circumstances, you might have let your teammates drag you to a bar or invited them over, picking up a cheap cake from the first bakery you passed on the way home. But from the moment you came across the information about a human blood sale taking place that night in an abandoned ruin—once a shopping mall—you all knew there would be no chance to catch your breath anytime soon.

You were almost certain that the twins would be one of the parties involved in the transaction.

At first, it filled you with doubt. Human blood? Why would they need to buy it when they were kidnapping all these women for that very purpose? Every body had been drained of it—whatever ritual they believed they were performing revolved entirely around blood.

"Maybe it's a form of experimentation," Reid had tried to explain a few hours earlier at the office, his furrowed gaze fixed on the board cluttered with all the data you'd been compiling. He paused, thinking. "Our unsubs are deeply delusional. They believe their actions will bring their sister back to life. So far, they've tried twice and failed. But instead of admitting that what they're doing is utterly irrational and illogical—because, of course, a blood transfusion into a dead body won't resurrect it—they'd rather blame the process itself, look for errors in their methods. Buying blood allows them to practice, to refine their approach without wasting what they truly desire—the blood of their victims."

"Actually, the fact that I'll finally get to see Heathers soon totally makes up for having to do... this on my birthday," you added after a moment of silence, gesturing toward your bulletproof vest.

Spencer didn’t respond—he was listening intently to Hotch’s voice coming through the car radio. A brief summary of what was unfolding at the ambush site.

You had your doubts about it, ones you kept to yourself. This was your best shot; you had to believe it would work. There hadn’t been enough time to prepare. You didn’t even have up-to-date blueprints of the place.

The abandoned building was in such a state of decay that most people driving past probably had no idea it had once been a shopping mall. The floor was coated in dust and shards of shattered storefront glass. Water from a leaking roof had seeped into the walls, leaving behind dark stains. Plastic tables from the long-defunct food court lay overturned and filthy. From what you’d managed to gather, a lot of people from the local underworld—mostly dealers—had passed through here at least once in their careers.

You didn’t feel that you were properly prepared, nor did you like your role in all of this. Your job was to circle the area in an unmarked car, providing backup in case your unsub somehow managed to slip away. That meant you had no direct view of the ambush and had to rely entirely on the descriptions and updates from your teammates. So far, though, no one had shown up.

"Hm, Spence?" you suddenly said into the space between you, a little uncertain. You kept your eyes on the road as you drove, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw him tilt his head questioningly. You fell silent for a moment, trying to keep your tone casual. "I got two tickets from you…and, you know, I was wondering if maybe you’d want to, well…see it with me?"

You had no idea why you suddenly felt so tense. After all, you were friends, and friends went places together sometimes. Just the two of them.

"Are you sure?" Reid asked, making you shift in surprise. Was he going to say no? He quickly added, "I mean, I don’t want you to think I expected you to invite me just because I gave you the tickets…It’s a gift, and if you’d rather take someone else, a friend or…"

"I want to take you," you interrupted, shifting your gaze to him.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the glint of your eyes visible in the dark car. Spencer gave a small, gentle smile.

"She's here. Alone. We're waiting in position until she goes inside," Morgan's voice informed you.

You both straightened up, as if brought back down to earth. The sense of satisfaction, even excitement, that had grown within you after he agreed suddenly took a backseat. You remained silent, listening for further instructions. Sitting there in the car, you felt utterly useless. She’s here. Just Lavinia? What about her brother? Did she come alone? Had they suspected something was off and decided not to risk being caught together? Your breath caught in your chest for several long minutes, stretching into a quarter of an hour.

“Fuck”

Your grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“Fuck! She got away. She was alone, and she still managed to slip through…there must be a hidden exit in the warehouse…”

Reid brought the radio to his lips.

“We’re nearby—we might be able to catch her. Did she come on foot? If so, her car could be parked somewhere close, maybe with her brother waiting. She’s probably heading straight there.” A faint crease formed between his brows, the mark of complete focus. “Garcia, you got me? Check the maps. Find anywhere they might have stopped…”

“How the fuck did she slip through?” you hissed under your breath, your heart hammering against your bulletproof vest.

You weren’t there—you had no right to judge. But for god’s sake, it was one woman against a trained FBI team!

“Guys, I think I’ve got something!” Penelope’s tense whisper crackled through the radio. “An abandoned parking lot, I’ll guide you there…”

You shoved your anger and confusion aside for the moment, yanking the wheel sharply as you turned toward the location Garcia had given. Cracks in the concrete had been overtaken by tufts of grass, something you noticed the moment you stepped out of the car, the door slamming shut behind you. It was nighttime, and darkness sprawled between the trees ahead, swallowing up what little visibility you had. The entire area was unlit, making it hard to see much—except for the single parked car standing out in the gloom.

You and Reid didn’t need to discuss your next move. A brief exchange of glances was enough—a silent reminder to stay cautious. Weapons drawn, you approached the vehicle from opposite sides, moving in sync without a word. You expected to see the face of the man you had been staring at endlessly over the past few days of the investigation. You hoped to find him in the driver’s seat, to yank him out with a firm pull, slam him against the hood, and cuff his wrists as his face met the cold metal.

But the car’s interior was empty.

“Damn it,” you muttered, lowering your gun. “Is this even their car? Maybe we came here for nothing…”

“Let’s find out,” Reid murmured, scanning the area cautiously before tugging on the surprisingly unlocked front door. His brows lifted—he seemed just as surprised as you.

You circled around the vehicle to join him on the same side, resting a hand on the open door as you watched him pull on a pair of gloves. He reached for the glove compartment, likely expecting to find some documents inside.

“Nothing,” he sighed after a long moment, disappointment lacing his voice.

He turned his face toward you, his tense jaw easing as he parted his lips to say something else.

Then everything was drowned out by the sharp crack of gunfire. One shot. Then another. Bullets slammed into the hood of the car with a metallic clang.

It all happened too fast.

You spun around, your flashlight beam cutting through the darkness—and landing on her. Blonde hair wild around her face, cheeks flushed from a desperate sprint.

Her gun was raised. Her finger tight on the trigger.

And you.

Most of your body shielded behind the open car door.

Most of it.

But not your head.

Then—Reid’s hands gripping your waist. Yanking you down.

The bullet shattered the window, glass exploding around you. Instinctively, you both ducked, heads low as sharp fragments rained down.

Curled up together, arms tangled, you locked eyes—both of you breathing hard, lips parted in shock. It had only been seconds, but in his gaze, that raw flash of fear stretched endlessly.

Your fingers dug into the fabric of his vest, gripping onto the solid warmth of his body as the world tilted. The ringing in your ears was deafening, the gunshot echoing in your skull, stretching time unbearably—like a warning of the next shot to come.

But it didn’t.

And when another second passed. Then another—

You moved.

Ignoring Reid’s sharp inhale, his hand reaching to hold you back, you pushed up onto your feet. The flashlight beam managed to catch Lavinia for a brief moment before she disappeared entirely into the stretch of trees between you. You couldn't let her escape and make it back to their hideout, the one you had been struggling to locate for so long.

Following her trail, you shot across the parking lot like an arrow. Reid was a fraction slower to react, but he wasn’t about to let you go after her alone. You could hear his footsteps behind you as you ran forward with determination, nearly tripping more than once over scattered rocks and branches along the forest path. You knew the flashlight was giving away your position, but you kept it on, scanning the surroundings for one of the unsubs.

It was as if she had vanished into thin air. As if the trees had swallowed her whole, even though the narrow, mostly overgrown path led only forward. You stopped, desperately looking around. You had no idea how far you had run, but your breath had become uneven, despite your excellent physical condition as an FBI agent. You couldn't accept the fact that she had slipped away from you twice, that she would soon meet up with her brother and together start planning the abduction of another victim…

Reid's hands reached for yours to turn off the flashlight you were clutching. In one moment, his face was right in front of yours, perfectly lit with squinted eyes, and in the next, it disappeared. You could still sense his presence just in front of you, his heavy breathing when he spoke.

"We have to..." he started in a slightly hoarse, quiet voice.

"We have to catch her," you interrupted through clenched teeth. You pulled away, moving forward again, but then he grabbed your wrist tightly.

"This is pointless," he replied, to which you immediately snorted in response. You wanted to argue, but then his finger landed on your lips, stopping you from speaking. "It's pointless for both of us to chase her like this," he explained, finally calming his breath. "Give me the flashlight, I'll go on alone. You head back to the car and take the other route. The forest is small; she'll have to come out on the other side soon. And above all, notify the team about everything."

His hand pulled back only after he finished explaining the plan. At that point, you no longer had the desire to protest. Everything he said made sense, even though something deep inside you screamed that you shouldn’t split up. You ignored it and forced yourself to nod. You handed him your flashlight and, after a last exchange of glances, you jogged back.

“Spence,” you turned suddenly after taking only a couple of steps. He also looked at you, clearly surprised. “Be careful.”

Reid nodded.

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured you. “Be careful too. We’ll meet up in a bit.��

It was only when you were running back to the car that you realized just how far your pursuit had gone. Anxiety clung to your back and didn’t let go, even as you emerged from between the gnarly trees. You gripped your gun tightly and tucked it back into your waistband as you sat behind the wheel of your car, not even pausing to catch your breath. Without hesitation, you leaned over to the radio, but before you could get a word out, something flashed in the corner of your eye.

You froze at the sight of the gun aimed at the driver’s side window.

You didn’t even fully turn to the side, you didn’t wait. You knew what was expected of you. With slow, almost rigid movements, you opened the door and stepped outside. You dragged out the process, analyzing the stance of the man, the second of your unsub suspects. He wasn’t a tall man, and after reviewing his history, you knew he had no significant experience with weapons or combat skills you had mastered long ago.

You almost smiled when you managed to use the element of surprise, grabbing his hand and redirecting the gun to the side. The shot rang out.

Leon Schuyler hissed with satisfaction, as if he had expected it all along. Then, before you could slam your knee into his groin, another sound escaped his lips. It was possible you had misheard it, but it sounded very much like a goodnight.

And after that, a sharp needle of a syringe pierced your neck with precision.

♊︎

It wasn’t until morning that Spencer began to grasp what had actually happened.

And even then, not fully. He felt as if he were blankly staring at the script of a play—one whose plot and themes filled him with such deep discomfort that he wanted nothing more than to leave the theater without so much as murmuring an apology to the people he passed. Yet at the same time, his entire body was nailed to that rough seat, his head immobilized, unable to look away. He wanted to run onto the stage and shout, enough, to put an end to it all—but he had no such power.

Who did?

The ambush for the twins had been set around midnight. About an hour later, they had both taken off after the fleeing woman. Then they had split up.

He didn’t remember much after that—not until five in the morning, when the entire team finally stopped scouring the area, clinging to the desperate hope that they might stumble upon the unsub by sheer accident. For the first time, Spencer felt so detached from the passage of time that even when he looked at his watch, the position of the hands made no real sense to him.

Hotch had announced that they needed to return to the office. To regroup. To think carefully about their next move.

They were the first to arrive—Spencer trailing behind Hotch more like a shadow than an actual participant in events. Others followed, one by one. Shaken. Furious. Devastated. But most of all, still bewildered, still unable to accept what had happened.

The sun had begun to rise, but even that seemed slower than usual, reluctant to banish the wretched darkness still clinging to these walls.

Spencer realized he was staring blankly out the window instead of using his so-called genius to find a solution. His mind felt empty, and the shame of it hit him like a physical blow, followed by something even more tangible.

A pair of hands shoved against his chest, forcing him backward.

“JJ…”

Derek was between them in an instant, stepping in to hold her back.

She froze, staring at her own hands as if surprised by what they had just done. Then she clenched them tightly across her chest, her gaze locked onto Spencer, raw and overflowing with emotion.

“How could you…how could you even suggest splitting up?” Her voice trembled, her head shaking in disbelief. Her chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths. She had been the last to arrive, the one who stayed out searching the longest—desperate, frantic, chasing down any possible lead that could tell her where they had taken her best friend, the godmother of her son. “You know this never ends well, Spencer. You know that. You should have known that…”

"Enough" Emily appeared beside them, gently wrapping her arms around JJ’s shoulders.

JJ slumped, a single tear glistening in her eye for the first time.

"This isn’t helping," Emily said softly. "We need to focus on finding her as quickly as possible. They… they don’t kill their victims. Not right away. We still have a chance…"

"They don’t kill their victims," JJ repeated blankly, wiping her eye with a stiff movement. She didn’t look at any of them. "They just keep them locked up for days, drain their blood, and throw them away like garbage."

She took a breath.

"I need to see Penelope."

She tore herself from Emily’s grasp and walked away without looking back.

Her words lingered, filling the space, stretching the silence into something unbearable.

Spencer felt like he might throw up if he even tried to swallow

By accident, his gaze met Emily’s. Her brown eyes were surprisingly gentle.

He looked away.

Facing JJ’s fury had been easier—it was just a fraction of the hatred he felt toward himself. But he couldn’t stand any attempt to soften just how badly he had fucked up. He opened his mouth, maybe to apologize, before realizing just how meaningless it would be. What would his apology change? The only thing he could do at that moment was pull himself together and find her.

“I need to focus,” he said, his throat so dry the words barely made it out. He wanted to leave the room, to be back among the case files, to lose himself in analysis and overlapping thought patterns, to check everything—literally everything.

But then Penelope appeared in the doorway, the color drained completely from her face.

“Guys, you need to see this…” she choked out.

For a second, everyone froze—until, led by Spencer, they rushed toward her office.

"Just like in the previous cases, I can’t trace this transmission," Penelope explained frantically, nearly running beside him on her high heels. They burst into the dimly lit room full of screens, where JJ was already inside—motionless. She was biting her thumb, staring at one of the monitors in a trance. "They’re using satellite internet, masking the signal, and constantly jumping between servers..."

Behind them, Prentiss let out a strangled sound.

The whole thing was being streamed via a handheld camera, mostly fixed on one point—the face of their teammate. It seemed to be set down on something, maybe a table, because if someone were holding it, the frame would be shaking.

Hotch stepped in as close as possible, his eyes shutting for a brief moment. He was reliving it all over again. Once more, one of them had been taken, and the rest were forced to watch, helpless.

But if Tobias Hankel had left behind anything remotely useful, it was that they knew how to handle this.

Silently, painfully, they all gathered around Garcia, absorbing the footage—no, the live feed.

"Is recording this really fucking necessary?" a woman's voice snapped—it belonged to Lavinia.

Spencer's mind flickered with the image of her face—those empty green eyes staring down the barrel of a gun aimed directly at them. Her brow furrowed. She had no visible injuries on her face. She was lying on a stark white bed, the kind that looked like it belonged in a hospital, covered by an equally white blanket up to her waist. She wasn’t wearing a bulletproof vest anymore—just a loose nightgown that ended at her elbows. Her eyes were half-lidded, blinking slowly—probably just waking up.

"We already talked about this. It is," her brother replied. "What are you doing?"

Lavinia stepped into the frame. They weren’t wearing masks, weren’t bothering to hide their identities—fully aware that law enforcement already knew their names.

One of her hands clamped down on the captive’s, pulling it toward her with little care before pricking the tip of one finger.

Confusion rippled through everyone watching. Spencer might have rushed to explain if not for the fact that he couldn’t force a single word out. He couldn’t even look away.

"I'm checking her blood type, what else?" she scoffed. "You kidnapped her without running it by me, and you should know that if this bitch has the wrong blood type, I’m not wasting our time on her."

"Pay attention to the way they speak to each other," Hotch started, bracing a hand against the desk. "There's tension—some kind of conflict…"

"Hotch," Spencer cut in, his eyes shut tightly. Nausea churned in his stomach. Keeping his eyes closed was the only way to stay on his feet.

Lavinia's words pounded against his skull on repeat. If this bitch has the wrong blood type, I’m not wasting our time on her.

"…That's a good thing. It means they're less coordinated, and it's more likely they'll make a mistake..."

"Hotch," he tried again.

This time, it was almost a plea.

"…We should—"

"She’s AB Rh+."

Hotch finally turned to look at him. So did the rest.

They froze—silent, motionless—not because they didn’t understand what it meant, but because they refused to accept it.

AB Rh+, a blood type that could only be transfused to someone with the same.

All the previous victims had type A blood.

I’m not wasting our time on her.

Prentiss sank into the nearest chair, as if her knees had simply given out beneath her.

So this was how it was going to end?

Before they could do anything to help her? Before he could even come up with a single idea on how to save her?

A single tear slipped down Penelope’s cheek. She didn’t even try to wipe it away.

“Let me check,” Leon, the male unsub, suddenly offered. “Go turn the heat up. Even I’m cold, and I’ve got a jacket on.”

His sister hesitated for a moment before she agreed.

Spencer finally opened his eyes—not to torture himself with the helplessness on his colleagues’ faces, but to force his gaze onto the screen. He fixed his eyes on her half-conscious face, searching for any sign of understanding. Did she get it? Had she already connected the dots?

Breathing started to hurt.

He wanted so badly to apologize. It wouldn’t fix anything, but maybe—maybe—it would dull the ache.

Him. Spencer Reid. And his stupid idea to split up.

He had sent her back to the car.

He had sent her to die.

That thought was dangerous, but maybe it was a good thing that the end was so close. That she wouldn’t have to endure days of suffering, uncertainty, and fear. He knew that feeling. He knew it all too well—praying for his own death when the pain became unbearable when fear and exhaustion drained the last of his strength. He didn’t want her to go through that.

He didn’t want her to go through any of this.

But that…that especially.

"And?" Lavinia returned to the room after a long moment.

"Well, what can I say? I’ve got a good eye," her brother said lightly. "O Rh-, a universal donor. We couldn’t have asked for a better match. You know what this means? That this time, we might finally succeed."

Everyone exchanged glances, utterly confused.

“Spencer…” JJ looked at him for the first time since their argument. “You said…you yourself said that she—”

“Because she is,” he interrupted. “He lied.”

Prentiss snapped her head up, a spark of hope flickering in her eyes. Spencer didn’t share her optimism. He did feel some relief, that much was true. But he was painfully aware that this wasn’t over. The nightmare was only beginning, and it was up to them to end it—before it was too late.

♊︎

You were afraid to be afraid.

Absurd—you were well aware of that. But ever since you woke up in that hospital-like room, hooked up to an EEG and an IV, with a pulse oximeter clipped to your finger, your thoughts had focused solely on one thing. Not panicking. Calmness gave you a sense of control. Of course, you had none whatsoever—you were entirely at the mercy of two lunatics who believed they could bring someone back to life. But if they could be delusional, then so could you.

You knew this room from the recordings. For the longest time, you couldn’t determine where exactly it might be located. Was it a repurposed basement? A cabin in the middle of nowhere? Even now, being here in person, you couldn’t say for sure.

The moment you were left alone, you seized the opportunity to unhook yourself from all the machines and pressed your ear against the wall.

Once, your team had found a victim’s location by identifying the sound of a plane taking off in the background of a ransom call. You hoped for something similar to happen now. But you quickly realized the grey walls were lined with soundproofing foam. The floor, covered in rubber, absorbed footsteps completely. You didn’t even hear anyone approaching until a flat palm struck you across the face so hard that you collapsed back onto the bed.

Lavinia was ridiculously strong.

“If you get up without permission again, I’ll cuff you to the damn bed,” she said, tossing a bottle of water onto the mattress beside you. “Drink. You’ll get food when you do something for me.”

"As if I have anywhere to run," you muttered under your breath, reluctantly reaching for the water. "What do you want me to do? What time is it?"

Every time one of the twins visited you, you asked for the time. You needed to know how long you had been there. But with the constant doses of sedatives they were giving you, you couldn’t even estimate it.

Deep inside, you felt like it had been no more than a day.

The others had been kept for seven days before…

You shook your head. You couldn’t think about the others if you wanted to hold on to what was left of your sanity.

“Good night,” Lavinia muttered, messing with the IV drip.

“But you said I had to do something…” You frowned in confusion.

The blonde shrugged. She was wearing a green coat with fur on the hood. Both she and her brother always came to see you dressed warmly, even though the temperature in your little prison was relatively comfortable.

They had changed you into a thin nightgown that ended just above your knees and at your elbows, but curled up under the blanket, you were relatively warm.

That led you to one conclusion—wherever you were, the rest of the building wasn’t as well-heated. It was cold enough that they needed extra layers.

Whatever was in the IV worked.

You woke up on the floor. And freezing. Oh God, it was so cold. Your entire body immediately started shaking.

When you tried to push yourself up at your own sluggish pace, someone simply yanked you upright, like pulling a vegetable from the ground. You hissed in pain, instinctively trying to push the woman away, but all that did was earn you another hit.

Lavinia didn’t hold back.

The previous victims hadn’t been beaten this badly, so you assumed she particularly disliked the fact that her brother had chosen to kidnap you.

Leon, unlike her, didn’t hit you.

He just kept shoving the camera in your face.

Honestly, you preferred a busted lip and bruises over the fact that your team was seeing what was happening to you.

That awareness hurt a thousand times more than any torture ever could.

You managed to take a look around this new room before you were shoved toward the bed.

Unlike yours, it didn’t look like a mad doctor’s operating room but rather an ordinary, slightly old-fashioned bedroom. Dark wooden floors, a wardrobe with ornate handles in the corner, no windows—just like your room. Bottle-green walls.

Your gaze finally fell on the bed, and you barely managed to choke back a scream.

Suddenly, you understood why it was so unbearably cold in the room.

In front of you lay the body of a woman, her eyes closed, but her face was so unnaturally blue that you could never have believed she was merely sleeping. If not for the fact that she had been dead for—what you estimated to be—several weeks, she would have been identical to Lavinia.

Only after the initial shock of the sight wore off did her name come back to you.

Lydia.

The last of the triplets. The one who had died. The one they were trying to bring back with their…ritual.

As an FBI agent and profiler, you were accustomed to seeing dead bodies—but this one unsettled you in a way you couldn’t quite rationalize.

Lavinia approached the corpse and smiled down at it with an affection so genuine, so reverent, that it sent a shiver down your spine. It was the kind of smile only mothers gave their children. Then, without hesitation, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to Lydia’s cold, gray cheek.

The dead woman’s short blonde hair fanned out across the pillow like a halo. Her hands were folded neatly atop the blanket, eerily reminiscent of someone in prayer. You were shaking, and it probably wasn’t just because of the cold.

"From now on, you will take care of our sister twice a day," Lavinia began, opening the drawer of the bedside table. She took out a hair comb, a bottle of some liquid, and a silk cloth. "Brush her hair and wipe her body."

As she spoke, she demonstratively rolled up one of Lydia’s sleeves. She was dressed in a nightgown similar to yours, but with lace at the collar and long sleeves reaching down to her wrists. You couldn’t suppress a shudder at the sight of her exposed skin. You were trembling too much from the cold for Lavinia to notice.

Lydia’s veins were dark. The blood transfusions into her lifeless body had caused it to clot. Small lumps had formed where the blood had thickened, and her arms were covered in scars and puncture marks.

“W-why do I have to do this?” you asked, clenching your teeth to stop them from chattering.

Lavinia shrugged as she wiped her sister’s skin with the cloth.

“Someone has to take care of her,” she said. “By doing this, you’re building a bond with her. Here, try it. Just be gentle.”

For a moment, you just stared at her. You were now certain—absolutely certain—that both Lavinia and Leon had crossed the threshold of madness and were living in a world where logic held no place.

Her gaze hardened as she shoved the cloth into your hands. It almost slipped from your trembling fingers.

You looked down at the body and hesitantly wiped its surface…a violent gag reflex hit you so hard that you staggered.

You heard a contemptuous scoff.

“If you throw up on her, you have no idea what I’ll do to you,” she warned.

This was sick. Sick, sick, sick.

Your breath caught in your chest—you couldn’t look at Lydia, laid out in bed as if merely asleep. Taking care of her as if she were alive. But another warning glance and the flash of a weapon beneath Lavinia’s coat forced you to keep going. You started wiping down each of her limbs, one by one.

She was a small woman, barely any weight to her, and yet it felt like the task stretched into eternity.

Sick, sick, sick.

When you were done, a comb was shoved into your hand. Its teeth were wide-set, meant to avoid damaging the delicate hair of a corpse. Lavinia kept hissing softer through gritted teeth every few seconds.

Sick.

You forced yourself to set the comb down calmly instead of flinging it away like it burned you. Following instructions, you reached for Lydia’s hands, gently folding them back into the same position as before. As you did, your gaze lingered on her wrists for a long, drawn-out moment. The deep, jagged wounds. So that’s how she died? Suicide?

Lavinia stabbed you with a syringe.

♊︎

You lay in bed, your body still trembling.

You weren’t cold anymore, yet you curled up under the blanket. Just as Lavinia had warned, she forced you to do it again a few hours later. Taking care of Lydia’s body now dictated when morning came and when night fell. Not once had you fallen asleep on your own—there were always the drugs, injected mostly when they needed to move you to another room. You wondered why you couldn’t just walk there yourself.

Not that you would have been able to sleep anyway. You made sure not to close your eyes. When you did, your mind conjured sick visions—of the corpse lying right beside you, feeding off your blood, slowly consuming you the way mold devours fresh fruit.

You were afraid to be afraid, yet fear was beginning to take hold of you.

You were still searching for a way out of all this… You knew the team was looking for you too, doing everything they could, but you couldn’t just sit and wait. You had to find a way to gain some sort of advantage over the unsubs. There was no use trying with Lavinia, but Leon…

He was the weaker link in this duo.

He had lied about your blood type, which meant he wanted to keep you here.

You heard him enter the room. They usually took turns coming to see you, rarely together. His arrival was always preceded by the small wheeled table carrying all the electronic equipment and streaming cables. If only Garcia could trace it…

“How are you feeling?” Leon asked, sitting on the edge of your bed, keeping his distance, the camera aimed directly at your face. You tried to turn your head so the bruise under your eye—courtesy of his sister—was out of view. A poor attempt. Your lip was swollen too. “You look weak. My sister told me to bring you something to eat, but… you know, Lydia is smaller than you.”

You raised your eyebrows. So what, was he planning to starve you until you resembled his sister’s corpse? You didn’t even try to understand it anymore. It wasn’t worth the effort for your exhausted mind. You didn’t answer, unsure of what you even should say. But you wanted to keep the conversation going.

“Why…why are you even recording all of this?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing directly into the camera. It was impossible that the whole team was watching the stream. You hoped as few of them as possible were seeing you like this. Especially not Penelope—she wasn’t built for this. Not JJ, your best friend. And definitely not Spencer.

On second thought, you didn’t want any of them to be watching.

Leon cleared his throat.

“Well, we’re doing something incredible. People want to see it. They’re curious if we’ll succeed.”

You’re doing something sick. Freaks want to watch it. They’re fascinated by it, you corrected him in your head.

“So, I have fans?” You tried to sound playful, friendly.

Leon was surprised by the warmth in your voice. Pleasantly surprised. His pale face, green eyes brightened slightly.

“Yes. I guess you do,” he admitted. He almost seemed shy, as if he hadn’t kidnapped you. “Can I…can I talk to you? Maybe they’d like to know something about you. The previous ones…the previous ones didn’t really want to say much. Mostly, they just screamed.”

You used all your strength not to flinch.

“Sure,” you replied, forcing a soft smile. It was just a game, a mask. You tried to observe the conversation from the outside, detached, clear-headed—while pretending you didn’t hate him. “What do you want to know?”

He didn’t move closer, but he shifted slightly to make sure the camera captured as much of you as possible.

“I know you’re a fed,” he began. “I even looked you up. I know your name. How old you are. But nowhere did it say what you like. You know, what you do. In your free time.”

You hesitated for a moment. You were kidnapped. If it were someone else in your position, you’d tell them to be as human as possible—honest, even. Make your captor see you as a person with feelings, desires, dreams.

So you took a breath and tried to answer truthfully, even though it hurt.

“I love musicals,” you finally said.

You thought about the two tickets—Spencer’s gift.

It hurt unbelievably much.

You prayed he wasn’t watching. That he wouldn’t hear this.

You told Leon a little about the last musical you had seen. It had been a long time—your job left you no time for such things. You looked him straight in the eyes as you spoke, because the sheer disgust you felt toward him was the only thing keeping your tears from spilling over. You felt so fragile, talking about something you loved to a man who, in just a few days, planned to drain you of blood.

You didn’t want to die like this. You refused to.

“Do you want kids?” he asked suddenly.

The question was so unexpected that you didn’t even have time to think.

"I guess…I guess so," you said.

But your surprised mind quickly sharpened, pulling up information from their biography. You knew that the twins' mother had died in childbirth. You didn't know what was driving him to ask this question, but you preferred to be cautious.

"I mean, no. I don’t know, actually. Maybe. To continue the species."

Or to have a loving family, but of course, you weren’t about to say something so personal out loud.

Leon remained still for a moment, then suddenly laughed. You pretended to laugh along, but you couldn’t stop the sharp flinch when he suddenly moved closer, touching your cheek with his hand. He lowered the camera—it was now pointing at the floor.

"You're so funny," he said with strange tenderness. "Just like Lydia. She…she was the same way."

For the first time, he referred to her in the past tense instead of the present. Was he starting to realize that she was gone?

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Another question.

"No."

"Have you ever loved someone?"

"What…what really happened to Lydia?"

The team had never found that out. But you had seen the wounds on her wrists and figured it out yourself. Still, you wanted to hear what he had to say about it. Because by now, you were starting to suspect.

"She passed away because of an illness," he said shortly, enigmatically, cutting off any further questions. Then, he repeated himself. "Have you ever loved?"

"In what way? Romantically, like a sibling, like family…?"

"It doesn’t matter."

Your posture became more alert, analytical. Leon withdrew his hand from your face, but he didn’t point the camera back at you, as if he had forgotten he was even holding it.

"Of course, I’ve loved," you said quietly. "And I still do. And you loved Lydia, right?"

The man nodded, a certain longing filling his green eyes.

"It’s late," he announced after a moment of silence. "I should go."

But before he even moved to stand, he leaned in. His lips brushed the top of your head, hesitant. You fought the urge to push him away. You had to keep up the act, continue this game. Wrap him around your finger, so that the very thought of hurting you would terrify him.

"Goodnight, Lydia."

♊︎

A certain force kept him bound to that chair, watching each broadcast over and over again.

He believed that, eventually, he would spot some previously overlooked detail—one that would immediately allow him to pinpoint the location. But in part, he also wanted to punish himself. Because what could hurt more than watching the face of one of the most important women in his life grow paler and more bruised with each passing moment?

A woman he himself had condemned to this fate.

But he didn’t stay in the office for another night just to drown in his own guilt. He was capable of multitasking, so while the weight of it pressed down on him, he poured everything that came to mind onto paper.

He noted the exact moments the streams began, measured their precise duration, wrote down every single word spoken, and searched for any hidden meaning.

Maybe, somewhere in one of those conversations, she had hidden a message meant for their team—a clue to help them find her.

Three days had passed. Logically, it made sense to assume they were following the same pattern as in previous cases. And that meant nearly half of their time was already gone.

Spencer kept thinking about Leon’s cryptic words—that his sister had supposedly died of an illness. He wondered if that was true or if the twins had chosen to live in denial. Maybe it was easier for them to accept that fate, a cruel and indifferent universe, had taken her—rather than the possibility that she had done it to herself.

He rubbed his tired eyes and let out a heavy sigh when he realized he was getting nowhere.

Garcia had allowed him to stay in her office alone—something that, under any other circumstances, would have gotten him killed. She hated when anyone touched her keyboard.

But time was relentlessly moving forward, and they all had to sleep at some point. Usually, only one or two of them were assigned to monitoring the broadcasts at a time, while the rest focused on other search efforts. They worked nonstop.

They had already experienced a moment of sheer terror at the very start, forced to confront the brutal reality that she could die. And they were determined not to let that happen.

Especially Spencer.

Not just because he owed it to her. It wasn’t only about guilt—the fact that he had been the one to suggest they split up. Even if he had nothing to do with her current situation, he would still be glued to this chair in the dimly lit room, illuminated only by the glow of the screens, a single desk lamp, and the rhythmic ticking of the clock.

Because she was his friend. Because she was an inseparable part of his life.

Because she was someone he could say, without a doubt, that he loved.

Whether that love was purely platonic or something more didn’t matter right now.

The only thing that mattered was the silent promise in his mind—that he would make sure they watched that musical together.

Hundreds of them, if she wanted.

He drank surprisingly little coffee. What kept him on his feet and his mind sharp weren’t the stimulants but the occasional glances at the drawing Henry had made—a gift she had left in the office, intending to take it home after work. To pin it to her fridge with a cat-shaped magnet. Of course, Henry had no idea what had happened to the best aunt in the world.

He drifted off in thought for a moment, only to be pulled back by movement on the screen.

The stream was starting.

Spencer immediately straightened in his seat, giving his cheek a light slap to wake himself up, to force himself into absolute focus.

Like every time, something clenched painfully in his chest.

He barely recognized her, even though the light in her room was on.

Several details hit him all at once.

First, the wound on her cheek—one that hadn’t been there before. Second, her hair. It had been cut to the exact same length Lydia’s had been in the photos he’d seen of her. The association filled his mind in an instant, vivid and unshakable. Third… the bandages wrapped around her wrists. Both of them. His hand shot toward his phone to alert the team, to wake everyone up. Or maybe someone else had already done it—he wasn’t entirely present in his own body.

But before he could move, before he could do anything at all, his breath caught in his throat. A thought began to scroll across his mind like a news ticker.

Metamorphosis had already begun.

♊︎

When Leon cut your hair, you took advantage of his momentary distraction—his mind entirely consumed by memories of his sister—and stole the scissors, slipping them under your pillow.

You wished you could say it was part of some greater plan. But in reality, you were exhausted, your strength fading more and more—not just physically, but mentally too. If your calculations were right, at least three days had passed. Twice a day, they drugged you and moved you to a room so cold that you lost all feeling in your limbs for hours, forced to care for a dead body. Staring into Lydia’s empty eyes, at the bluish veins beneath her lifeless skin, you couldn’t stop imagining yourself the same way—discarded by the roadside, drained of every last drop of blood.

You didn’t want to go like that. You wanted to go on your own terms.

You seized your chance that evening, when they left you alone without sedatives. You hesitated. But what if the team had finally tracked you down? What if they were already on their way? Wait or don’t wait? They would understand. You knew that. You were relieved that the camera hadn’t been on you 24/7. You had at least spared them from witnessing this, the desperation and terror slipping from your wrists along with your blood.

It was Leon who found you. He collapsed to his knees beside you, consumed by sheer panic, screaming Lydia’s name over and over, begging her not to leave him again. His cries alerted Lavinia. You had hoped that despite her medical experience as a nurse, she wouldn’t reach you in time.

You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting their faces to be the last thing you saw before death. With the last remnants of your strength, you struggled against their grasp as they tried to lift you from the floor.

Then, everything faded away.

"Leon, this is a waste of time."

The blurred words drifted into your consciousness, floating there like debris on the surface of water. You observed them with closed eyelids, seeing nothing, feeling little, barely understanding anything.

"She…maybe we should just get rid of her. Find a new one."

"We can’t," her brother responded firmly. You had never heard him speak in such a commanding tone before. "We can’t take that risk. They’re on our tail. Police…FBI. If we try again…this is our last chance. She is our last chance, and this time, it will work. I can feel it"

He paused.

"She’s just like Lydia."

His twin remained silent for a moment before letting out a weary, resigned sigh.

"I guess you're right," she finally replied. "I'll go refill the boat's fuel. Keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't do anything stupid. And when she wakes up, take her to Lydia. They need to…they need to bond. A stronger bond. Right now, she's too weak."

"Be careful," her brother warned her gently.

You opened your eyes only after Lavinia left the room. The light stabbed at them painfully. For a moment, the helplessness consuming you was utterly devastating. You wanted to scream, to wail—it took everything in you not to beg the man to put you to sleep again. If even death couldn’t save you from this fate, then what could?

Leon didn’t say a word to you. After a while, he simply helped you up, touching your body as if it were made of fragile porcelain, then guided you into the hallway, offering light support. You were weak, horribly weak, but the moment you left your room, a flicker of strength began to return.

For the first time, they allowed you to walk to Lydia on your own instead of carrying you there unconscious. That gave you a chance to take in your surroundings more clearly. You were so surprised by this newfound freedom that, for a moment, you forgot how unsteady your legs were.

You stepped into what seemed like a corridor. Instead of soundproof foam, the walls were lined with metal, rust creeping along some of the panels. The air carried a certain chill—not the biting cold of Lydia’s room, but something more natural, like a draft seeping through an imperfect structure. And then there was another sound, layered beneath the whisper of wind slipping through the cracks—a faint, steady noise.

Rushing water.

Leon kept leading you forward. You crossed a threshold, and that was when you saw it—an old window at the end of the corridor. Something inside you surged forward, an instinctual pull. You wanted—needed—to press yourself against the glass, to look outside, to at least see where you were. The unfamiliar sounds and the stark change in environment stirred something deep within you.

The will to survive.

You thought it had died back there, on the floor, when you miraculously lived. But it hadn’t. It had only been waiting.

Leon pulled you along more forcefully. For the first time, you thought about hurting him. He wasn’t as strong as his sister—if you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck at just the right angle…You were alone there, Lavnia had gone… You tried to recall her blurred words. Refill the fuel in the boat? A boat? So your intuition had been right—you were somewhere on the water.

You had done this so many times that he didn’t need to hand you the cloth or the comb; you already knew where to find them. As you opened the drawer, you could feel Leon’s gaze on your back. You moved slowly, hoping to find something sharp. Anything. Even the comb would do…

You turned around and saw Leon sitting on the table by the bed, his forehead resting on his sister’s lifeless hands.

A perfect opportunity. Perfect circumstances. He was distracted, not paying attention to you.

Unfortunately, you weren’t fully focused either. His sobbing…

"My beautiful Lydia," he wept softly into his sister’s body, burying his face in it as if hoping she would embrace him, stroke his head. "My dear Lydia. I loved her, you know. I love her."

You didn’t move, clutching the comb in your hands. You barely felt the cold, even though your body registered it perfectly, making you shiver. And although rage filled you—a wild, feral madness—you wanted to lunge at him. Yet somehow, you found a sense of calm, a sliver of reason.

You remembered your previous strategy. Leon, the weakest link.

Leaning in, you gently ran your fingers through his blond hair.

“I love you too,” you replied with difficulty.

The man stopped sobbing, remaining still for a moment. With a slow inhale, he straightened up, his wide-open eyes locking onto your face. A slight shiver ran down your spine.

It was possible that you had just made the worst mistake imaginable.

But there was no turning back now. You held his gaze, refusing to look away. You couldn’t tell what emotions were flickering behind his stare. Was it shock? Suddenly, he stood up abruptly. Instinctively, you flinched, raising your hands to shield yourself, bracing for the kind of blow his twin sister had delivered so many times before.

But it never came.

Instead, without a word, he simply turned on his heel and left. He didn’t call for you to follow. He didn’t say anything at all. For a moment, you stood motionless before slowly setting the comb back onto the table. Your feet barely lifted off the ground as you moved toward the door, only to freeze once you reached it. Seconds passed. Then minutes.

You pushed it. And it opened.

A strange wave rolled through your chest.You were alone at the threshold of an open door. Alone on your own feet, not tethered to anything that could put you to sleep at a moment’s notice. You didn’t think long.

You ran.

The world spun violently from the sudden movement, your weak body barely managing to stop in time to avoid crashing into the window. Your heart pounded furiously, drowning out your thoughts.

You would regret it. In fact, you already did a second later.

Your gaze had barely locked onto the space outside the window when strong arms seized your clothes, yanking you back and slamming you to the ground. You landed hard on your elbow, too disoriented to even feel the pain. Lavinia stood over you, clad in a jacket, her hands clenched into fists. But before she could take a step toward you, her brother moved between you, shaking his head.

"Don't hurt her," he pleaded.

He reached out to touch her, but she slapped his hand away, redirecting her fury toward him instead.

"Don't hurt her?" she echoed mockingly. "And how else is she supposed to learn that she can't just go running off? Why did you even let her?"

"Sorry, it's my fault. I forgot to lock the door," he said.

You didn’t even care whether he was telling the truth. Your mind was spinning too much, especially as you tried to push yourself up.

"But she's our sister, and you can't keep hitting her."

At those words, both you and Lavinia froze.

You looked at her face—pure shock, trembling lips. You were surprised too, but… the corners of your mouth twitched. You masked it quickly, pretending there wasn’t even a trace of satisfaction in you. That your plan wasn’t starting to fall into place.

“Get her out of my sight,” Lavinia said coldly, her voice devoid of emotion.

You watched as Leon slowly stepped toward you, helping you to your feet. As he led you back to your room, you caught a glimpse of Lavinia hiding her face in her hands. You stayed silent for a long time, watching him carefully. It hit you—this was the first time you were with him when he didn’t have his camera.

Slowly, you sat down on the bed, waiting to see if he would sit next to you. And he did.

You swallowed. You couldn’t let yourself feel too confident yet—you still had to be careful, still had to watch every step you took.

“You defended me,” you noted gently.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked just as bewildered as you felt. You hoped he wasn’t starting to regret calling you that. You hoped his own delusions were wreaking havoc in his mind—to your advantage.

“Thank you,” you added.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said. He straightened up, turning his head toward you. There was a strange devotion in his green eyes. “You’re my sister. Of course, I have to protect you.”

You nodded gently.

"I am your sister," you repeated clearly, locking eyes with him, willing these words to sink deep into his very core. "I am already your sister, Leon. Lydia. But… our other sister wants to hurt me."

As you spoke, you reached out your bandaged hand, lightly touching his arm. He stiffened under your touch, staring at you with growing astonishment. In fact, he looked almost in awe. As if you had just descended from the heavens. You took that as a good sign.

"You know what she wants to do to me. To drain my blood. How many days do I have left?"

His breathing grew heavier.

"Tomorrow," he answered. "Tomorrow at midnight."

"Tomorrow…" you trailed off, shaking your head. You forced panic to take hold of you. You must have been unconscious longer than you'd thought. "But I am already her. Can't you see?" You ran your fingers through your hair, smiling brightly. "We’re together again. We love each other again. And she wants to tear us apart."

You saw hesitation creeping onto his face, the subtle furrow of his brow betraying his uncertainty. You had forgotten—Lavinia was his sister too. He loved her as well. Turning him against her wouldn’t be that simple.

Swallowing your nerves, you spoke again.

"We have to convince her that I have truly become Lydia. But for that to happen…you know, there’s something still holding me back. An anchor. Two anchors, actually. They keep me from letting go of who I used to be."

He gazed at you with growing intrigue. A metaphor like that had to be especially stimulating for his deranged mind.

"What are these anchors?" he asked, a readiness in his voice, as if he was already prepared to rid you of them.

"One of them," you began slowly, carefully choosing your words—mostly because you hadn't fully thought this through yet. "One of them is…I need to say goodbye. One last farewell that will sever all ties to my previous life. I wish I could let go without it, but…Leon, I’m afraid it’s necessary. It’s holding me back against my will."

You could see him absorbing everything you were saying.

"Say goodbye…to whom?"

There were many names you could have given him. But you chose the one that would strike straight at his orphaned heart.

"To Mom. I don’t need to see her. Just…just a short phone call would be enough."

The silence between you was so heavy, you genuinely feared he might hear your heartbeat. And it was raging in your chest, pounding so fiercely that your limbs trembled. You waited. Everything depended on his answer.

Leon averted his gaze, staring blankly into the distance. You prayed you had reached him. That his desire to have Lydia back was strong enough.

"Tomorrow, I will bring you a phone. One that can't be traced," he finally said.

Okay, that was not part of the plan.

"But tomorrow, Lavinia will…"

"She won't," he cut you off. "I won’t let her… We’ll get rid of the anchor, and she’ll understand that you’re already here."

You could have argued, but you were too afraid of accidentally undoing everything you had achieved so far. So, you agreed. Even an untraceable call was better than nothing. Especially since, in that brief moment you had stood by the window, an idea had begun to form in your mind.

Leaning in, you pressed a grateful kiss to Leon’s cheek. He allowed himself a brief smile.

"And what is the second anchor?"

You told him.

♊︎

When you woke up, you knew it was morning.

Lavinia had dragged you to Lydia’s room the old way—while you were unconscious. At the same time, she had announced that this was the last time and that you had better start getting it right. So, you wiped the woman’s body with as much care as possible. For the first time, you were able to look directly into her eyes.

This was going to end soon.

She would finally end up in a grave, those two would be in prison, and you…

You tried not to fantasize too much. You had to stay focused.

You slowly combed through Lydia’s short hair. Time passed, but Lavinia did not return. You had grown somewhat accustomed to the fridge-like cold, but you had never stayed here longer than fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. You waited for someone to come, but when the chill became unbearable, you approached the door and started pounding on it. Your frozen hands didn’t even register the pain.

"I’m still here!" you shouted.

Had they forgotten about you?

"And that’s where you’ll stay," Lavinia’s voice answered from the other side.

You frowned, hugging your trembling body.

"You’ll stay there until the ritual. I’ll come for you before midnight."

"But it’s morning!" you screamed.

No response.

You slammed your fists against the door again. Harder. Again and again, until blood coated your knuckles and your lungs burned from breathing in the freezing air. One moment, you had everything—a plan to keep yourself alive. The next, you doubted you’d survive the next few hours in this cold.

Had the previous victims gone through the same? Or were you the exception because Lavinia wanted to make sure you never made it out?

You paced around the room, hoping that movement would warm you up. Meanwhile, thoughts of hypothermia and its fatal consequences circled in your mind. You wavered between determination to survive and pure despair, convinced that you wouldn’t make it. You had no idea how many minutes had passed before your gaze landed on the wardrobe that had been standing in the corner of the room the entire time.

With almost blissful relief, you layered on piece after piece of clothing found inside. You knew you would make it until nightfall.

What came next remained uncertain.

♊︎

Leon found you curled up inside the wardrobe, so accustomed to trembling that it felt like a natural state for your body.

“Come on, we have to hurry,” he said, offering his hand to help you out.

You clung to him tightly, as your legs refused to support you.

“What…where…Lavinia…the phone…” you mumbled, your frozen body unable to form coherent sentences.

“I have the phone, but we need to move fast. I got here just before her to give it to you. Come on.”

He led you out of the room. You turned your head toward Lydia lying on the bed, wondering if this was the last time you would see her.

When you were back in your own room, you wrapped yourself tightly in the blanket, leaving only your head and hand exposed—the hand in which Leon pressed the phone. Your body slowly began returning to its optimal temperature. You couldn’t believe this was really happening.

Leon crossed his arms over his chest. He had no intention of leaving you alone with the phone—he was going to listen to the call. But you were prepared for that possibility.

Instead of frantically dialing, you looked at him. He didn’t have his camera with him.

“Don’t you want to show… this moment to your fans?” Your voice still trembled slightly, your tongue struggling to cooperate. He frowned, not seeming to understand what you meant. You had always avoided the camera before. “Well, you k-know…the final moment before my complete metamorphosis. They’ve followed you for so long…I’d think they…they’d want to see it.”

"You're right. Absolutely right. Wait here."

Not that you had anywhere to go.

He returned, as always, pushing his small table along and clutching his camera in his hand. His fingers trembled slightly. Acting behind his sister’s back must have been stressing him out, but his desire to get Lydia back was too strong. At that moment, you were certain he would do whatever you told him to. With stiff fingers, you dialed the number twice before getting it right. You were calling your mother to say goodbye. That was the official version.

There weren’t many numbers you knew by heart, but Spencer’s was one of them.

Under Leon's watchful eye, you pressed the phone tightly against your ear to make sure he wouldn't hear a male voice—one that was definitely not maternal. The camera was aimed straight at your face, and you stared into it without blinking, as if challenging it to a contest of who would break first.

If the team wasn’t watching this, you might as well smash the phone against the floor.

"Hi, Mom," you said the moment the call connected.

You didn’t breathe. The fear of ruining everything made your throat tighten, and you swallowed hard against the lump. For a moment, there was only silence on the other end.

You didn’t look away from the camera, your senses sharpening from the sheer intensity of your focus. The adrenaline burning through you kept you warm.

Still, no response.

"Hi, sweetheart," a woman’s voice finally said—JJ’s voice.

Tears stung at your eyes, and you worried they would give you away in front of Leon. You made a mistake while blinking and you bit down hard on your tongue as punishment.

JJ was pretending to be your mother.

"I don't have much time, Mom," you began. "I'm just calling... just to ask how you're doing. Is everything okay?"

"Garcia, can you trace where this call is coming from?"

Spencer’s voice.

Another mistake.

Your next breath felt like choking, and you had to steady yourself. You needed to do one more thing—just in case this didn’t work.

"That's great," you threw in a random half-sentence to make the conversation sound real for Leon. "Uh-huh...I'm glad everything's fine. Yes, I'm okay too, don’t worry"

You fell silent for a second, too long. Leon raised an eyebrow. You were supposed to be saying goodbye.

"I...I...Mom, do you remember my favorite mug? The one you accidentally broke last time?"

You swallowed hard, never breaking eye contact with the camera. You couldn't come up with any other cover story besides the mug, so it had to be enough.

"I...I kinda yelled at you back then. Sorry. It was my favorite, but now I...I know it wasn’t your fault."

Your voice grew weaker as you spoke.

Don't cry, you warned yourself.

"It wasn’t your fault, Mom. Not your fault, S—Mom."

Terrified, you glanced at Leon, hoping he hadn't caught it. But he only waved his hand impatiently, urging you to hurry.

You swallowed hard, and before anyone on the team could say anything else, you spoke your final words.

"I love you. Goodbye."

Then you hung up.

For a moment, you stared at each other without moving, until he turned off the camera and you handed the phone back to him. Hearing their voices—possibly for the last time—tightened something in your chest, a pressure you struggled to release.

"Thank you, brother," you said softly. You nodded slightly, grounding yourself, pulling yourself back to the plan. You had to act, to keep moving before Lavinia returned. "You know what we have to do now, right?"

Leon nodded.

♊︎

“What was that about the mug?” Prentiss asked as the call ended.

JJ closed her eyes for a long moment. The rest of the team, gathered around the computer where the stream had played just moments ago, looked utterly confused.

“You think she was trying to send a message? A hidden clue?”

“Garcia, can you play it from the beginning?” Spencer cut in, leaning toward the screen.

The first time he watched it, emotions had taken control, clouding his focus. He had been stupid, so incredibly stupid. Most of his attention had latched onto the repeated words it’s not your fault which only deepened the devastation in his mind. But a small part of him had registered the way her eyes moved.

“Sure, just a sec…” Penelope’s fingers flew over the keyboard, and soon the footage played again.

“Do you understand what she was trying to say?” Rossi asked.

Spencer shook his head. A rush of adrenaline, almost intoxicating, coursed through him.

“She didn’t hide a message in her words,” he explained, straightening up. His gaze darted around Garcia’s desk, searching for something to write with. He grabbed a notebook with a pink, glittery cover and a pencil topped with a fluffy pom-pom. “Look at the way she’s blinking. It’s Morse code.”

Everyone fixed their eyes on the screen, trying to see it for themselves.

Everyone except JJ.

She was looking at Spencer, no trace of anger in her expression—just hope.

Reid wrote down the message she had sent.

Oil rig.

♊︎

The cold was almost liberating.

You stood with Leon at the edge of the oil rig. Ever since you managed to reach the window, you'd been trying to figure out where they had kept you. The realization had come to you slowly. The sound of water surrounded you both, and the wind played with your freshly cut hair. It felt so good that, for a brief moment, you closed your eyes.

But only for a moment.

You couldn't celebrate victory when you hadn't won yet.

Your gaze shifted to the man beside you, then to Lydia’s body, wrapped in a bedsheet and lying just a few steps away. This was the last anchor—the one you had convinced him needed to go.

Lavinia would be back any second. It had to happen now.

Of course, it was never really about anchors. The whole story about your mother had been nothing more than a way to send a message—one you hoped your team had understood and was already acting on. And the one about Lydia? That was just to bring Leon to the edge of the oil rig.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he said, nodding slightly and exhaling as his eyes lingered on his sister’s body.

You pushed him.

When you planned this, you hadn’t accounted for how weak you would be.

Leon staggered, yes—but he didn’t disappear beneath the waves. Instead, his hand caught the thin fabric of your nightgown, and with a short, startled yell, he yanked you both down onto the floor.

You groaned as your body slammed against the hard surface.

“You… bitch,” he said, almost in despair, realizing you had been lying to him all along.

You kicked him in the face with your bare foot and pushed yourself up onto your elbows. He let out a sharp gasp of pain—you heard the crunch of his nose breaking—and for a fleeting second, you thought you were on the fast track to escape.

But then his hand clamped around your ankle, yanking you down again.

You let out a frustrated sound as his knee pinned you to the ground. You struggled to shove him off. He wasn’t like Lavinia, but he also wasn’t as weak as a starved woman who had spent nearly an entire day in a freezer.

Right. He wasn’t like her.

He was fucked up, but not enough. Not enough madness in him.

Your nails clawed blindly at his skin while your other hand fumbled against the surface, searching for anything. You felt like you could kill him with a feather if you had to. But you found something far more practical than a feather.

A brick.

Leon collapsed when it struck his temple. But that wasn’t enough. With a pained breath, you pushed yourself up over him and swung again. You kept swinging, not caring that your fingers were sticky with blood and the brick was beginning to slip from your grip. You kept striking longer than necessary.

Leon had been dead for a while.

You threw the brick aside, gasping for air. Everything felt so unreal, so distant. For a moment, you closed your eyes, still kneeling over his motionless body. When you opened them, ready to face the sight before you, your gaze accidentally met someone else's.

Lavinia stood a few steps away, disbelief and slowly growing fury in her eyes.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, neither of you fully grasping what had just happened.

Then it hit her—you had killed her brother.

And it hit you—that you were absolutely screwed.

Well, that thought only truly settled in once she tackled you to the ground. Punch after punch rained down on your face, so relentless that you couldn’t think, couldn’t come up with an escape plan. Was there even one? Your hands fell limply to your sides, no longer attempting to fight back. The ends of her blonde hair mixed with yours, strands stained red from the blood streaming down your face.

When she stopped, for a brief moment, you thought you were dead.

You had always imagined death as a very quiet experience. Peaceful.

But instead, you could hear her ragged, frantic breathing, a sound almost like a sob, and barely intelligible words cutting through the air.

"I’ll finish this."

During your entire time in that place, she had always moved you from one location to another by knocking you out with sedatives first. But this time, it wasn’t necessary. Your body was so battered that all she had to do was grab you by the leg and drag you along, not caring that your skin scraped against the rough surface.

When your vision finally sharpened and you realized you were back in that same cursed room where it had all begun, for a moment, you thought the recent events had been nothing more than a dream.

But then—

One glance at your bloodstained hands.

One glance to the side, at the neighboring bed and the lifeless body of Lydia resting upon it.

One glance at the IV lines piercing the crooks of your elbows, the slow, steady flow of liquid passing through them.

Your blood.

The only thing that brought you solace was the slowly creeping realization that, at the very least, you had managed to say goodbye to those closest to you. They had seen your face, the raw pain and love in your eyes as you whispered your final goodbye. At least you had assured Spencer that none of this was his fault. You could only hope that, in time, he would start to believe it. At least partially.

You had long drifted off when the door to the room burst open with a bang.

♊︎

She was saved by the fact that she was a universal recipient.

Still, by the time they found her—after Garcia had finally tracked down the illegally sold oil rig through a bankrupt extraction company—she was already weak. Very weak. So much so that the following hours were filled with even greater fear than the past few days.

She couldn’t slip away from them now that she had been rescued. Or rather, now that she had rescued herself. Spencer had no intention of taking credit—nor letting anyone else take credit—for her brilliant moves and meticulous plan.

He sat in the hospital corridor, while JJ rested her elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand. Her leg trembled, and with it, her entire body. Emily held her other hand tightly.

"Spence," she finally said. Her gaze had been fixed on the floor, and it took effort to lift it to him. But it was necessary for what she was about to say. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. For how I reacted, for how I treated you these past few days."

He wasn’t quite sure what to say, so he just gave a small nod.

“She’s your friend. It’s normal that—”

“She’s your friend too. Ours. We should have been supporting each other this whole time instead of yelling at one another.”

“You were the one yelling.”

The words slipped out before he could stop them. JJ opened her mouth but said nothing.He hadn’t meant to throw it in her face—he didn’t even feel angry. Back then, he had only cared about one thing. One person. But before he could add, retract, or clarify his words, a nurse approached them, informing them that someone could go inside. The entire team stirred in their seats, but only two people were allowed in at a time.

Spencer sat back down, nodding toward JJ and Emily.

Emily raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Reid. Of course, it has to be you.”

Although he had been ready to step aside, a faint, grateful smile crossed his lips.

He followed JJ into the hospital room, his steps slowing as they approached her bed. Unpleasant flashbacks flooded his mind—seeing her like this on a screen, the helplessness that had gripped him then. It took him a moment to shake off the feeling, to ground himself in the realization that he was here now. That she was right in front of him.

A sudden chill of panic ran down his spine. What was he supposed to say to her? Was he even capable of opening his mouth without turning into a pathetic, guilt-ridden mess, mumbling endless apologies and self-deprecating confessions? JJ spoke first, sparing him from his spiraling thoughts. She started with something simple—a quiet whisper of her name.

She said it again, and slowly, her eyelids fluttered open. Spencer felt something tighten in his chest. A relief so immense it almost hurt.

She murmured something weakly.

Both he and JJ stepped closer, and this time, he was the one to say her name.

“Don’t call me that,” she rasped. Her eyes shut again, and she turned her head to the side, as if refusing to look at them. Shutting them out. “That’s not my name,” she whispered.

“I’m Lydia.”

post-reading author’s note:

if you survived reading such a long fic—CONGRATULATIONS and THANK YOU and also im SORRY. i know there wasn’t much reid not much of the team and honestly it had very little to do with canon—it was mostly just a product of my imagination. i hope you’re not disappointed.

if any topic in this fic triggered you, i apologize. i tried to include everything in the tw but i might have missed something.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spence reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n

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hees-theman · 4 months ago

Text

BECOMING MRS. SIM

Title: Becoming Mrs. Sim

Pairing: Boss!jake x F!secretaryreader

Genre: Romance, drama, contract-to-real marriage

Summary: To ensure his position in the company, Jake proposed to you in front of his dad. What started of as a fake marriage, slowly turns into real romance with a bit of drama.

Contents warning: Cursing, mention of 'kys', implied sh, may or may not make you puke due to the fluff, suggestive, mention of third party, a tiny bit of angst (like as big as one virus)

Word Count: 16k

A/n: Ngl, this is the first time I wrote so much for a fanfic. Even I was surprised I managed to go passed 10k lmao. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it ^^

Taglist: @sumzysworld @dreamiestay @heeverseblog @originalladymilkshake @bookloversomuch @laurradoesloveu @niniissus

—

"We need to find you a wife."

There you go - a sentence that Jake has been waiting to hear from his dad.

Jake was born with a golden spoon in his mouth. Despite being wealthy, he chose to live just like the others. He would prefer to do a lot of things by himself. He finds satisfaction in it.

Sim family is known to have one of the largest businesses in Asia and the examples for others. So, when Jake has finally reached 'the age', it's natural to expect him to become the next successor.

Jake has an older brother. However, he chose to venture into different field, leaving Jake as his dad's only hope to take over the company.

But, in order for his dad to grant the status to Jake, he has to get married. It was his dad's main condition.

His dad had always been living with the principle of behind every successful man, there is his wife. According to his dad, being married motivates him to be better both personally and career-wise so that he can provide more for his wife and his children.

On the contrary, Jake believes in independency. No, it's not that he hates love or relationship. In fact, he was in a relationship back then. Unfortunately, things happened, and they drifted away from each other. Nobody really knows about it and Jake wished to keep it that way.

"Is it really necessary, dad," he asked his dad.

"Of course. Getting married and loving your wife with all your heart will help you in gaining people's trust better - rather than be single. You will appear more... capable and trustworthy."

"But-"

Just as Jake was about to say something, his dad cut him off by placing a file on the coffee table between both of them.

"This is Kim's eldest daughter. I heard that she graduated from fashion designing with good result. Personally, I think that she is a perfect woman to be your wife."

Jake looks at the file and at his dad with a raised brow.

"Really? A blind date?"

Mr. Sim just shrugs his shoulder. "Well, it's not like you will ever introduce anyone to me, right?"

Jake leans his back against the couch and let out a deep sigh. God, one thing he doesn't like is going on a blind date which is arranged by others without his consent.

He don't like it when people tell him to do stuff that he doesn't want to do. It makes him feel like he is being force to do things. Last thing he wants is to hurt an innocent woman.

As Jake is in deep thought, there's a knock coming from outside Mr. Sim's office.

"Come in," his dad said.

You turn the knob and enter the room with a tray of coffee cups in your hand. You bow your head slightly at both Jake and Mr. Sim before walking towards the table and place the cups on it.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Sim?"

Jake's dad shakes his head at you. "That's all for now. Thank you, Ms. Y/LN."

You bow your head for the second time before walking away from both of them. But just as you were about to turn the knob, Jake calls out your name.

"Ms. Y/LN."

You turn your head to him.

"Yes?"

Jake flashes a small smile to you.

"Can you come here for a while, please?"

Your head tilts slightly but still turning your heels around and walk towards Jake.

"Yes, Mr. Sim. May I help you?"

A few seconds passed by before Jake looks up at you with a wider smile. He then turns to his dad.

"Dad, actually, I'm planning to marry Ms. Y/LN."

"WHAT?!"

Both you and his dad said in unison. As if on cue, both of you also look at each other with eyes widened.

"I-"

"Y/n..."

Jake cut you off by calling your name softly, making you turn to him with the same widened eyes.

"I'm sorry I had to propose to you this way when I already had plan to surprised you. I promise I'll make it up to you, okay."

You and Jake are not really strangers. Both of you went to the same high school back then and reunited when you first entered the company as Mr. Sim's - his dad's - secretary.

The difference is that both of you barely talk to each other. You only know each other's name, and that's it. So, when Jake suddenly confessed to his dad that he wants to marry you, it makes you dumbstruck.

"I never knew you and Jake are dating, Ms. Y/LN."

You turn your head to Mr. Sim and open your mouth to say something. But nothing seems to come out.

"I asked her to keep it private since it had only been a few months since we got together."

Jake told another lie. You turn to Jake to say something. But, before you can do anything, he reaches out to hold your hand and flashing a soft smile to you.

"But every time I'm with her, I felt nothing but love, warmth, and comfort. That's how I know she's the one for me."

God, if you didn't know any better, you would have said that he's telling the truth. Anyone would coo at how adorable Jake is despite he is telling a lie. That is how good all of this is.

To tell the truth, you have always found Jake attractive just like other girls. Although both of you have never talk to one another, you did observe him from time to time.

Just like any other schools, there will always be at least a heartthrob - and Jake happened to be one of it during high school along with his other two friends.

As much as you would like to mind your own business, you can't help your eyes to look at him from afar. Every time he's around his friends, he will always have that big happy smile that can melt any hearts around him.

You find it cute and adorable at the same time. But that was it. He was only your eye candy back in high school.

Yet, here you are, in his car as his out-of-nowhere fiancé.

After he - somehow - proposed to you in front of his dad, he asked for Mr. Sim's permission to bring you out for the day, saying that he wants to make it up to you.

Of course, being the loving understanding dad, he allowed it without knowing that it was all just a scam.

"Where are we going, Mr. Sim?" You asked.

"Somewhere other than the office." Jake gave a simple answer.

Just like that, both of you are back in the silence. You turn your head to look out the window as Jake continue to focus on his driving. As much you want to say something, you feel like it's best to give each other some space.

You don't know how long have passed by but the way the cityscape suddenly changed into beach view proved to you that Jake has brought you somewhere far. Probably an hour or two.

Jake slows down the speed as the car reaching to its destination. He pulled the hand brake and turn the gear into 'P'. He let out a deep sigh before unbuckling his seatbelt and open the door.

You watch as Jake exits the car and walk towards the sandy area. After a while, you decide to follow him. You open the door and walk towards the man, standing beside him.

You were about to speak when suddenly Jake cut you off.

"I'm sorry."

You just keep quiet, allowing Jake to continue his words.

"I'm sorry I pulled you into this mess. I dislike the idea of anyone forcing me to date, let alone get married."

"Then, why didn't you say so?"

Jake bites his lower lips. "I can't. I know I'm the only heir that my dad has left. If I didn't take over, God knows what will happen to the company."

You turn towards Jake. "Then, why me? Am I not being forced to get married with you?"

Jake's eyes soften at your words. You're right. He did force you to do something you don't want to when he himself hate when someone did that to him.

What a hypocrite.

"Y/n. I know we don't really know each other that much. But I need your help. Just this once. After I become the CEO, we will discuss the next step. Is that okay?"

You look into Jake's eyes. This is the first time in your whole life have you seen him looking so desperate. His demeanour used to be confident. It's almost as if he got everything under control.

But today, today is different. He looks like someone who is willing to do anything just so he could keep his title. Just the thought of it makes you scoff lightly.

"Okay, I will help you just this once. You owe me big time, Mr. Sim."

You held out your hand for Jake to shake.

"You won't be disappointed, Ms. Y/L/N."

Flashback:

Finally, lunch hour, students' favourite time of the day. As usual, Jake would spend his time with his best friends - Jay and Sunghoon.

"Should we go on a trip during summer?" Sunghoon asked.

"What about Jeju?"

"We've been there a lot of times, Jay," Jake said.

Jay poked his rice using the spoon as a pout formed on his face.

"But I like it there. The view is beautiful."

Jake and Sunghoon looked at each other before laughing together.

"You're so cute when you're sulking," the youngest among them teased.

As Jay and Sunghoon were having their normal banters, Jake's eyes fell upon a girl. A girl in her ponytail, eating her food with her friends around her. From time to time, she would engage with the conversation as well by joining them or simply laughed at her friend's joke.

Jake saw her for the first time when he was walking out the infirmary. He was not feeling well that day, so he decided to take a rest.

Coincidentally, she was walking towards the infirmary as well. She stopped on her track when she saw him.

"Are you okay," she asked.

Jake nodded his head at her. "I'm good."

She smiled softly at him. "That's a relief. Take a break when you need it. Don't push yourself too much. You deserve some break."

She walked away after conveying her message, leaving Jake at the hallway.

Ever since then, he would see her almost everywhere at school. Wherever he went to, she would be there as well. It was as if fate was trying to match them together.

"You're staring again," Jay said as he nudged Jake's shoulder.

"You should really just talk to her at this point."

Jake shook his head lightly. "No, I like it like this. It's better like this."

Sunghoon let out a sigh and Jay shrugged his shoulder before both of them continue eating their foods.

Jay, Sunghoon, and Jake had always been together ever since they were little. Yet, ever since Jake met her, it was as if a new side of Jake appeared right before their eyes. Surprisingly, it only appeared whenever the girl was around. Whenever you were around.

Jake claimed that it was him admiring someone. But to Jay and Sunghoon, it was definitely more than that.

—

“I never knew this day would come.”

You just smile at your dad’s words as you continue to eat your food with Jake beside you.

Two weeks after the so-called-proposal that Jake pulled in front of his dad, both of you decided to visit your parents to lay out the message. Well, technically you told Jake to meet your parents. If they approved of him, then you’re good to go.

“Thank you, uncle and auntie, for allowing me inside this beautiful house of yours.”

Your mom let out a soft laugh. “Our house is small compared to yours. It is our honour that you are willing to come to our house instead.”

True to your mom’s words, you were not born with golden spoon. Compared to Jake’s family, yours are more of in the middle class. Your family didn’t gain as much as Sim’s family, but it's already more than enough.

“How do you find the foods, Jake?”

Jake looks up to your mom and flashes her a happy grin.

So cute, just like a kid, you thought to yourself.

“It’s so delicious. It’s true what they said. No foods can ever be compared to a mother’s cooking.”

Everyone including you laugh at his words. You missed being in this environment. So warm, so full of love and affections. No, you don’t have bad blood with your family. You were just rarely home due to your work.

But now that you’re here, you aren’t going to miss a chance to spend more time with your family as much as you can.

As the night came, your dad and Jake decided to spend their time together at the backyard of your house, giving you a chance to spend time with your mom.

Your dad sips on the coffee that he made earlier.

“Why did you choose Y/n?”

Jake turns his head to look at the elder man beside him. With a small smile on his face, Jake lifts his head to the sky.

“Y/n is a nice woman. She cares for others a lot. She would do anything to make everyone around her happy. She will give her 100% towards something that matters to her.”

Jake lets out a soft sigh, almost dreamily.

“Before I know it, I want to be with her. I want to be there for her. I want to do things for her. I want to care for her. I want to protect her.”

Jake swallows his saliva, trying to maintain his composure in front of his soon-to-be father-in-law.

“So, you want to marry my daughter just because she is nice?”

Your dad’s question makes Jake look at him, who is already looking at Jake. Jake smile to himself before shaking his head.

“No, I did not ask for her hand simply because she is nice. I want to marry her because she makes me better as a human being. Everything seems smooth every time we are together. Before I know it, I can’t imagine myself with anyone but her. She is the only woman I want to have a future with. No one else, but y/n.”

Your dad considered his words carefully. He then put his hand on Jake’s shoulder.

“Y/n… she is our only child. She had always done things by herself. There are times where we would feel worried for her. Well, up until now, we still are. So, when she brought you back home, her mom and I felt better. At least we know that she won’t be alone forever.”

Jake just smiles at your dad’s words. Oh, how would he feel if he knew our marriage is only for a while, he thought.

“Thank you, Jake, for looking after our angel. She is everything to us. I hope you feel the same as well.”

Jake just nods his head at your dad’s words before both of them drink the coffee from their own cup.

Making you as his everything; will Jake be able to do that?

Flashback:

Jake had lost count on how many drinks he had tonight. As he tried to reach for another one, Jay hit his hand, making him groaned in pain.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Jake? You looked like a mess.”

Jake just scoffed at Jay’s words. He looked up at his friends and gritted his teeth.

“Easy for you to say. You didn’t go through what I went through. It hurts. It fucking hurts.”

Sunghoon sigh for the nth times for the night. Both him and Jay had been trying to understand Jake's situation. But the only thing Jake revealed was that he broke up with his girlfriend. That was it. He didn’t say how nor why. No matter how many times they asked him, he kept his mouth shut.

“I really love her, guys. I don’t think I can live without her.”

Jay rubbed his forehead, trying to calm himself down from exploding to the drunken man. The words “he’s my friend” keep on chanting in his head. He was about to open his mouth, but Sunghoon cut him off.

“Die then.”

Jake looked up at his friend’s words. His eyes widened, surprised at the sudden reaction.

“The fuck did you just say to me?!”

Sunghoon shrugged his shoulder. “You said you can’t live without her. So, go on and die. It’s easy.”

Jake’s eyes that were filled with tears turned into anger. He stood up from his seat and grabbed Sunghoon’s collar, making everyone including Jay surprised.

“You think you are better than me?!”

Sunghoon held Jake’s hand with his before smirking at him.

“I am. I’m not the drunk one here.”

Jake’s hand turned into a fist. God, he hated Sunghoon at this moment. He fucking hates the guy in front of him. He was about to punch Sunghoon, but Jay managed to stop it by pushing his fist away and broke off his grip from Sunghoon’s collar.

“Enough! Both of you, out!”

They stared at each other angrily before walking out of the premise with Jay following behind.

Minutes have passed since they were sitting outside of a convenience store. Not long after, Jay walked out of the store with canned coffees and a water bottle in his hands. He gave one of the coffees to Sunghoon and the water bottle to Jake.

The three of them continued to stay in silence before Jake decided to break it first.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t lash out to you.”

Sunghoon pursued his lips. “I’m sorry too. It was immature of me trying to stir you up.”

Jay just looked at both of his friends with a smile. This is the friendship that the three always had. Countless of fights, countless of apologies. It’s hard sometimes, but this friendship is important to them, and they knew they need each other.

“I just… I don’t know if I can love other person the way I love her.”

Jay reached out to pat his friend’s back.

“You will bro. You will. Trust me.”

Jake just nodded his head, too tired to even say anything at this point. All he knew was that he loved his now ex-girlfriend with all his heart. He gave her everything that he could give. Time, presents, everything.

Yet, it still ended this way. Four years of relationship, ended just like that. Jake really thought that she would be his forever. Well, he thought wrong. Maybe it’s time for him to focus on himself. He had been focusing on others for too long. He deserved his own peaceful time.

“Ah, right. We heard that y/n got into your dad’s company as his secretary.”

Sunghoon’s words interrupted Jake from his own thoughts. Jake’s brows frowned at the sudden mention of your name.

“Yeah, why?”

Jay who was silent suddenly sat up straight on his chair and looked at Jake.

“Really?! Y/n is working with your dad? The y/n?”

Jake nodded his head slowly.

“Yeah. It’s almost a month now if I’m not mistaken.”

Jay let out a relief sigh before patting Jake’s shoulder.

“That’s nice. You get to work with the one you admired before.”

Right. You were the woman that he admired up until the end of high school. After both of you graduated, you and Jake parted ways, following your own dream. It’s not like both of you had special connections anyway. The interactions that you had with him were not enough for both of you to be considered as a friend.

But now that Jay and Sunghoon mentioned about it, Jake was reminded of the first day you stepped into the company.

He would never admit in front of his friends that he actually got excited when he saw you walking into the office. It had been so long since he last saw you.

You looked more mature than when you were in high school. The outfit that you had on was professional, yet it made you look beautiful. As beautiful as Jake remembered.

You might slowly lose your teenage features, but you still managed to turn Jake’s head effortlessly – just like when both of you were in high school.

—

Three months after the proposal and a day after the wedding ceremony, you found yourself entering an unfamiliar house – Jake’s house. It's official. You are now Mrs. Sim Y/n.

You look around the living room. You did not expect his house to look neat and cozy at the same time. With all the furniture being white in colour, it made the interior looks more spacious than it already is.

You never thought of him as a guy who would pay much attention to the interior. He looked like the type of guy that might hire any designer and let them do their magic.

"Having fun?"

You whip your head to the voice behind you. There he is, standing in all his glory, your - now - husband.

"You have good eyes."

Your compliment makes Jake's lips curl up into a smile. A smile that you used to see since high school.

"Thanks."

He walks towards you. Before you could do anything, his hand reaches for yours and he bring it up to his face, enough to look at the ring on your finger.

He looks at how it sparkles with a small smile before kissing it softly, a small gasp escapes your lips but not enough to reach Jake's ears.

“Thank you for marrying me, y/n,” he said sincerely.

Your heart soften at his words. Unconsciously, you rub his hand that is holding yours since earlier.

“It’s nothing. Besides, it will only be for a while, right?”

Jake just hums softly at your words. Of course, he didn’t forget about it. Heck, he was the one who came up with all of these. Contract marriage – and it will last up until he got his title as the CEO.

"Just so you know y/n, although it is only for a while, I will still perform my duty as your husband until the end of it."

You look into Jake's eyes, trying to see if there is any hidden agenda. But all you can see is honesty and sincerity.

Jake is known as a man of his words. He is not someone who would turn away from his promise, let alone lying. Heck, he doesn't even know how to lie.

You've seen his attempts to lie during high school and it always ended with him stuttering and his cheeks slowly turning crimson. His lips jutted out into a cute pout, resembling a puppy sulking.

Everyone was telling you that ‘you're so lucky to have him as your husband’, not knowing that this marriage has its own expiry date. Sooner or later, both of you will put this into an end. You know that.

And yet, you can't help but feel a little tug on your heart when Jake said the last few words.

Refused to let your emotion to get the best of you, you flash him a small smile.

"I will do my best as Mrs. Sim as well while it last."

Ever since then, Jake and you have done nothing but keep your words.

Every morning before going to work, you would prepare him breakfast and eat together with him. Then, both of you would go to the office together. When both of you are done with your job, he would wait for you in the car to go back home together.

After you’re done with your shower, you would prepare dinner while waiting for Jake to finish washing up. Then, both of you would sit together and have dinner while having a small talk in between.

During the weekends, Jake will ask you if you have any plans. Sometimes you would tell him that you want to go out, sometimes you just want to stay at home.

If you chose to go out, he would go with you, spending his time and money for you the entire day. Not gonna lie, you've made countless attempts to pay for yourself. But Jake will always be two steps ahead from you. Guess it's the perks of marrying the Sim Jaeyun.

If you decided to stay at home, he would be there as well. Sometimes he would help you cooking – or more like purposely disturbing you. When you are reading a book, he would join you with cup of teas in hand.

Before you know it, you and Jake have become closer and more comfortable with each other. What used to be only standing side-by-side turns into walking together while holding hands. During grocery shopping, he would stand behind you and push the trolley together with you in front of him while walking through aisle by aisle. When you are watching a movie in the living room, he would lay his head on your lap and ask for your attention – just like a puppy would.

Everyone with eyes is envious of your relationship. Both of you totally looks like a happy couple. It’s as if the world belongs to both of you, and only to both of you.

Honestly, you would say the same thing to yourself as well. Jake had been nothing but a loving caring husband. He takes good care of you, always be there for you. He’s really the man of his words.

However, there are times where he can be an annoying ass. Such as right now.

You are putting on your make up to go out with him and he’s just… there, staring at you since God knows when. It was something that he would do every single time you’re getting ready be it to go to the mall or to the office. As you are finishing your touch on your blush, you let out a soft sigh and turn your head to him.

“Yes, is there anything I can help you with, Mr. Sim?”

Jake just shakes his head lightly. His lips curl up into a small smirk.

“Nothing. Just admiring my beautiful wife.”

There he goes again, teasing you. These past few weeks, he had been calling you names and giving you compliments. And he would say it with affections. Every time he did that, your heart beat for him.

God, am I in love with this man?

You roll your eyes, trying to hide the fact that he made you shy. Thanks to your blush as well that he won’t notice that your cheeks turn red because of him.

“Enough with that, Jake. Let’s go. We’ll be late.”

Jake bites his lower lips to avoid grinning too widely. Obviously, he knows how he makes you feel. You are not the only one who have been watching him since high school. He also did the same to you. Probably a tad bit more than you did – and you don’t need to know that.

So, he would know how you look when you’re happy and upset. He knows the difference between your real and fake smile. He knows about it.

He might not say it out loud but ever since he told you he would do his part as your husband; he didn’t think it will be this far. At first, he thought he would just provide for you and that’s it.

But he was wrong. The more he spends his time with you, the more he knows the real you. The more he talks to you, the more he craves for your affection. He used to sleep on his side the first few days after marriage. Now, he can’t imagine not having you in his arms at night. He might not even be able to sleep if you were not there for him to hug.

He knew it would be easy to get married to you. You won’t cause him troubles. You won’t stress him out. You know how to take care of yourself. You know how to do things on your own.

But he didn’t expect that it would be this easy for him to be himself around you. He didn’t know it would be easy for him to accept you into his new life. Most importantly, he didn’t know that he could love again like how he used to.

Actually, scratch that. He loves you more than he used to love anyone in his life. That speaks volume. If Jay and Sunghoon are here, they would give him the ‘I told you so’ look.

I love y/n. I really love this woman with all my heart.

“Y/n?”

You and Jake were walking with your arm around his when suddenly a voice called out for you. You turn to your back, and your jaw dropped instantly at your sight. Without second thought, you let go of your husband and run towards the person.

“Sunoo! What are you doing here?”

You pulled Sunoo into a hug, and he reciprocates by wrapping his arms around your waist. Your husband’s eyes widened at the sight.

Did she forget she has a husband?! Jake thought to himself.

You released Sunoo from the hug so that he can reply to you better.

“I was just walking around. Didn’t expect you to be here as well.”

You nod your head at him. After a few seconds, you turn to Jake and call him using your hand gesture.

Jake walks beside you. His eyes shooting hole into Sunoo’s face as his jaw tighten.

“I know you’ve met him before, but this is Jake, my husband.”

You introduced the man to Sunoo and lands your head against your husband’s shoulder, completely oblivious at how pissed Jake looked right now.

Unlike you, Sunoo as a man, can see how jealous the man in front of him is. I mean, which husband won’t be jealous when his wife hugs another guy right in front of his face. Smiling to himself, Sunoo politely held out his hand towards Jake.

“Hey, we met at the wedding but I’m Sunoo, y/n’s friend.”

Jake didn’t say anything but shakes Sunoo’s hand, for the sake of you. He pulls his hand away almost instantly, making the other man’s lips curl into a small smirk.

“Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds behind. Don’t want to interrupt the date. See you when I see you, y/n.”

Sunoo pats your arm and give Jake a courtesy nod before walking away, leaving you together with your husband.

You were about to say something when Jake beat you to it.

“Is it fun being friendly with another guy in front of your husband’s face?”

You blink your eyes at the sudden burst of jealousy from Jake. You study his face properly. His cheeks are red as a result of him trying to hold back his anger. His lips forming a pout, the same one that you’ve witnessed since high school.

Jake looks so adorable right now that he makes you snort lightly.

“Oh? Is my husband jealous?”

Jake squints his eyes at you before turning his head away.

“Any husband would hate to see his wife being all over a guy other than him.”

He is jealous, you thought to yourself. You were about to console him, but before you could say anything, Jake decided to walk ahead of you, purposely leaving you as a sign of protest.

His action makes you scoff. Despite his height being taller than you and not to mention his status higher than you, he still acts like a kid. You shake your head before chasing after him.

“Where are you going~” you asked him teasingly.

“Away from you.”

You let out a soft ‘ooh’ before continuing to chase after him. When you are within the reach, you hold his hand, stopping him from his track. Although his body is facing you, his head is still facing the other side.

You bring his hand to your lips and leave a soft kiss against his knuckle. You can feel him stiffen at your sudden action, but he still refuses to face you. You let out a soft sigh before your lips curl up into a smile.

It’s usually the husband you have to persuade his wife, but now, it’s the other way around – and you are not complaining about it.

“You don’t have to worry about it, Jake. I’m not his type.”

Your words manage to make Jake faces you. His brows that were frowning earlier become deeper as he heard your sentences.

“Why? You are beautiful. You are nice. Anyone would want you. How can you not be his ideal type? Does he think that he’s better than y-”

Jake’s mouth was stopped by your finger against it. If only he’s not upset with you, he might as well kiss it. But his ego got the best of him, so he just stands there silently.

“It’s not like that. What I mean to say is… women are not his type.”

Your husband nods his head when you explain-

“Wait. So, Sunoo is…”

He doesn’t need to complete his sentence when you’re already nodding your head, knowing what he was about to ask. Unconsciously, Jake let out a loud sigh of relief. He thought that someone was about to sweep you off your feet.

Well, even if Sunoo did, he knows he will make sure to bring you back into his arms one way or another.

Jake looks at you who is now smiling innocently at him.

Fuck, how can she look so adorable.

Refused to back down, he clears his throat and pinch your nose lightly, making sure it won’t hurt you. You scrunch your nose at him. You were about to pinch his cheek as a revenge, but he managed to stop your hand.

He then leans his face close to yours.

“But I still don’t like how you left and hug him in front of me. Don’t do that again, alright.”

Your lips form a pout, but you nod obediently at his words. Of course, you should know that no matter how close you are with your guy friends, you must remember that you have a husband to take care of.

“Okay. I’m sorry for leaving you and hug him like that.”

Jake’s lips curl up into a smile, hearing your apologies. He takes your hand that was in his earlier and kiss it lovingly. Your eyes turn to the other side, an attempt to hide away your shyness. Jake just chuckles lightly at your actions before planting another kiss on top of your head.

“Shall we get going now?”

—

Two months later, you and Jake are attending the company’s annual gala night. However, this gala night is special because it is also the night that Mr. Sim, your father-in-law, will pass down the responsibilities as CEO to his son.

Although you are excited for Jake, you can’t seem to throw away the thoughts that your marriage will come to an end. Yes, both you and Jake are happy with each other. Happier than you had been in your life. But it still doesn’t change the fact that he got married to you just so he could gain the title as his dad’s successor.

A tap on your shoulder wakes you up from your thoughts. You look to your side, just to see your husband tilting his head slightly.

“What is this? Are you thinking about other man than me?”

He squints his eyes at you like how he would usually do. You hiss at him and hit his shoulder lightly.

“Why should I think about other people, when my husband is with me?”

You wrap your arm around his as your other hand rub against the spot that you hit earlier gently. Jake smiles softly at you before pecking your forehead softly, making sure not to ruin your make up and hairdo.

You and Jake continue to greet the guests. From time to time, you would join in their conversation but mostly you let Jake do the talking.

Suddenly, the hall light shuts down and a spotlight shine at the centre of the stage. There, stand Mr. Sim on the podium, getting ready to deliver his speech. Everyone’s attention diverts to the man.

He clears his throat and run his eyes across the hall.

“Good evening to everyone. I would like to thank all of you for your time tonight. I believe we already know the purpose of tonight considering that we did this every year.”

Everyone including you laugh at Mr. Sim’s greetings.

“As mentioned, we held the gala night annually without fail. Personally, it’s a way for me to appreciate everyone’s effort in making this business grow bigger each year.”

The hall is filled with claps.

“But tonight is different than before. Unlike the previous gala night, we are not only here to have fun. It is also the night where I will make an important announcement that will change the company into a better one.”

You look to your side, just to see that Jake is fidgeting and gulping nervously. You smile to yourself before leaning to his ear.

“You will be fine, Jake. I’m here with you.”

Jake turns to look at you, who is already smiling at him. Just like that, he can feel his anxiousness slowly tone down. It’s funny how before this Jake is so opposed to getting married just for the title.

Now, he understands why his dad said what he said to him before. True to his words, behind every successful man, there’s his wife. Jake never thought that he will see the day where there’s a woman behind him.

But with you supporting him directly, he believes that he can go through all the challenges and difficulties that he will face in the future. No matter how hard it is, he’s willing to go through it as long as you are with him.

Just like that, from this moment, Jake vow to himself that he will never, ever, let you go.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Without further ado, I present to you, the Sim’s new successor, Sim Jaeyun.”

The sound of claps filled the hall once again for the night. A spotlight pointed to Jake. He looks around the hall with a proud smile and bow his head politely. Before he walks up the stage, he turns towards you and hold your hands. Without second thought, he brings your hands and place a long kiss against it, making everyone looks at both of you with awe.

You nudge your hand lightly against his lips, making him look up at your crimson red face.

“Faster go,” you mouthed at him. He grins widely at you and flash you a wink before letting go of your hands and walks up onto the stage.

You just watch the view in front of you with a proud smile. Your husband is hugging your father-in-law so tightly. He is so proud of his own son, just like how he is proud with Jake’s older brother when he saw how successful he had become.

“Congratulations Mrs. Sim for your achievement.”

A voice said beside you, making your head turn to the owner. Turns out the owner of the voice belongs to Sunghoon as he stands next to you.

“You must be so proud of him.”

Another voice said on your other side, and you know it belongs to Jay. You just shake your head lightly at both of their remarks.

“Of course I’m proud of him. But I didn’t do anything for you to congratulate me.”

Jay looks at you for a short while before turning back to the stage. Both of his hands are in his pocket as he watches Jake giving his thank you speech.

“No, you deserve the wish as well. In fact, we must thank you for everything that you’ve done for Jake.”

You frown slightly at Jay’s words. You don’t quite understand what he meant by that. But, as you were about to ask, Sunghoon cut you off.

“Yeah, he’s a better man now, because of you.”

Despite your confusion, both of the men’s words still manage to soften your heart. Before you know it, tears escaped your cheeks. That was the nicest thing someone has ever tell you. You didn’t know that you needed until tonight.

Being recognized by Jake’s best friend just hit a certain spot in you. You made a mental note to ask about it later. But for now, you decide to focus on the man’s speech.

“… And to my wife, know that I will not be able to do this without you. You have been nothing but my strength and my support. You were there through ups and downs. I thank you so much. You are my woman and will always be my woman.”

Everyone howls at Jake’s words and the two men besides you whistle proudly. You just shake your head while letting out a chuckle and clap your hands. Jake is so silly. Your husband is so silly – and you will never ask for anything better than this.

After the end of the speech, you and Jake continue to talk to the guests with his arm circling around your waist the entire time. They all congratulate both of you for Jake’s achievements in becoming the new CEO. It is safe to say that the night went smoothly.

But nothing in this world is perfect, right?

“Congratulations, Jake.”

There, standing in front of you, a beautiful, mesmerizing woman in a gorgeous emerald green dress. She looks so breathtakingly beautiful to the point that your jaw drops slightly at her presence.

Unlike you, Jake’s smile falls upon seeing her. He clenches his jaw and tighten his grips against your waist. He forgot that her parents were invited to the gala by his dad. So naturally, she would be here as well.

“Thanks, Yunjin.”

The woman’s smile widens at the way Jake called her name. Her eyes then shift to you, who is still lost in her beauty. Yunjin let out a chuckle.

“Hi, my name is Yunjin, Jake’s friend.”

Bullshit, he thought.

You blink your eyes for a few seconds, trying to wake up from your own daze.

“Ah, I see. I’m y/n, Jake’s wife. He never mentions that he has such a beautiful friend as you.”

Yunjin looks at Jake for a few moments before letting out another chuckle. Her cheeks are now a bit red from your compliment.

Her laugh also sounds beautiful like her, you thought to yourself.

“Please don't say that. You are more beautiful, y/n. Besides, it’s been so long since we last met each other as well,” she said before her eyes fall upon Jake once again for the night, just to see that Jake is already looking at her.

Your eyes turn to look at Jake and Yunjin back and forth. Jake is staring at her with an expression that you don’t quite understand, while Yunjin is looking at him softly, exactly like a woman missing her partner.

That’s when it clicked in your head. You’ve heard that Jake had a girlfriend the first day you joined the company. If your guess is right, Yunjin is his ex-girlfriend. Saying that she is just a friend is a way of her being considerate of your feelings.

You don’t know what happened, but deep inside, you know that there are some unfinished businesses. You felt it through the tension that is slowly building up between them. Not even the sharpest knife can cut through it.

Before you know it, your gaze drops to the floor. Clearly, you are upset with the situation. But who are you to say anything. They had their own past. It was all just an old story. It was his past.

That’s what you keep telling yourself.

“Well, I better get going. You guys must have a lot of things to do.”

Yunjin’s words manage to pull you into reality.

“See you around, y/n.”

You try your best to smile sincerely, doing your best to show that none of these are affecting you.

“See you around, Yunjin.”

With the same previous smile on her face, she nods her head at you before once again turning to face Jake.

“Jake.”

She called out his name, but the only thing he did was nods his head towards her as his eyes turns somewhere else, refusing to meet her eyes.

Yunjin then walks away from you. You didn’t know how long it had been but the sigh that you let out indicating that you’ve been holding your breath for quite a while now. Your heart beats so loud as if it’s about to jump out of your body.

You swallow your saliva to calm yourself down before excusing yourself from your husband, saying that you need to go to the washroom.

Just like that, Jake is left alone in the middle of the hall. He frowns at the situation. Fuck, he said to himself. He should have handled it better.

Jake knows that you are upset. Going to the washroom was just a way for you to walk away from the previous commotion. As if meeting his ex-girlfriend is not the worse part of the night, his best friend came to him, probably to lecture him.

“What happened, Jake,” the older one asked.

Jake bites his lower lips.

“She came and greet us…”

“And?” Sunghoon encouraged Jake to continue his words.

“And I didn’t know how to react to it. I thought that if I said something, I might… I might…”

I might lose control and y/n might hate me for it, Jake continued inside his mind.

Jay drapes his arm around Jake’s shoulder, pulling him into a side hug in hopes it can at least comfort him after what just happened.

The guys know that it’s not easy for Jake to communicate with his ex, considering that they had a good time together just for it to end all of a sudden. But they can’t also invalid your feelings.

As a wife, they knew you must have figured out that they had something going on back then. It’s understandable that you would be upset over it even though it already ended long time ago.

“I don’t know what’s going on between you and Yunjin, but I want you to remember that you have y/n now. One thing I can see from her is that she’s loyal and sincere. She’s a woman, your wife. Whatever you want to do, consider her feelings as well.”

Jake nods his head at Sunghoon’s words. He inhales deeply and exhale, trying to calm himself down. He puffs out his cheeks as he collects his inner thoughts.

“Do you think I can be a good husband to y/n?”

Jay and Sunghoon steal a glance to each other before their lips curl up into a smirk.

“It’s up to you, man. But I think you have always been waiting for her. Ever since high school, you’ve wait for her. Now that she’s in front of you, why not grab your chance?”

Jake looks up at Jay as the older one encouraged him to move forward. Jay nods his head at Jake.

“And a little birdie told me that she is also waiting for you at the balcony just outside of the hall,” Sunghoon said as he pointed the place with his face to Jake.

Jake scoffs at himself. He can’t believe he is down bad for you. The fact that his best friends had been his witnesses made him feel even more dumb than he already is. He then pulls both Jay and Sunghoon into a hug.

They hug the man back and their hug last for quite a while. It was at this moment that reminds Jake once again just how important Sunghoon and Jay are in his life. His ride or die. The one who would be there to give him facts, no matter how hurtful it is. The one who would give motivations for him whenever he needs it. And he would gladly do the same to them as well.

Jake let go of his friends. With a deep breath, he walks towards the balcony where you are leaning against railing.

Although your back is facing him, he can’t deny the fact that you look glowing in your white dress. The way your head tilted slightly to the sky, allowing the moon to shine its light to you. You look better than his dreams.

With careful steps, he walks towards you.

“What are you thinking, princess?”

You turn your head slightly at the voice, before facing forwards again.

“Nothing important.”

“Then, why do you look like a damsel in distress, my lady?”

The closeness of his voice startled you. You didn’t realize when it happened, but his arms are already on your side, trapping you against the balcony. Slowly, you turn your back towards him. Your eyes move from down and up to his face.

You’ve always thought Jake as a handsome man. But right now, he looks even better than before. His face is so close that you can see the length of his eyelashes. His nose that would occasionally bump into your head and cheeks as he leaves pecks here and there. His lips… the same lips that would kiss you everywhere but your lips.

The last time you felt it against yours was when you were pronounced as husband and wife. It was a short one, but you can still feel it tingling against yours. You would do anything just to feel that lips once again.

However, you know you can’t. Not when he was about to divorce you right here, right now. Mustering your courage, you look into his eyes. Although your tears are threatening to escape, you’re trying your best to hold it in by burying your nails into your hand.

“Jake, congratulations. You’re finally where you want to be now. You’ve been working so hard to prove that you’re worth it. Now, you got it.”

Jake’s eyes soften at your words and his grip weakens. You sniff before continuing your words.

“Thank you for being a husband for me. A real one at that. I didn’t know anyone would do anything for me aside from my parents. There is not a single moment where I regret having you as my husband. Thank you for everything that you did for me. I will cherish all the memories until the end of my life.”

As you finished your sentence, the tears that you’ve been holding back finally roll down your cheeks. You have said everything that you want to say. Whatever happens after this, you will accept it with all your heart. When Jake decides to stop everything with you, you will have to be ready to let him go.

Jake’s hands move up to cup your face. You close your eyes at what about to happen.

Do it. I’ll be fine. I can take it.

You can feel his thumbs brushes your tears away, but then you feel his lips against your forehead. You open your eyes and look up at him, just to see him looking at you with a loving smile. His tears run down his cheeks, mirroring yours. Jake takes a deep breath. He then looks at you again with the same smile.

“Let’s end this.”

He said it. He finally said it. The words that you were waiting to hear from him. He said it. You thought that you could handle it, but your reaction proves you wrong.

You burst into crying in his hands. Every emotion that you’ve been holding back are showing itself. You are not okay. You will never be okay. Call you selfish, but you want to be with him always and forever. You need Jake, even if he didn’t need you.

Or so you thought.

“Let’s stop pretending, and love each other for real.”

His words managed to make you look at him with your eyes widened. The expression of your face clearly shows Jake that it was not what you expected to hear tonight. You thought that he would divorce you. After he got the position as CEO, he would put this to an end. That’s how it should be.

You try to breath properly. Looking at how difficult it is for you to calm down, he moves one of his hands and rubs your back while his other hand caressing your cheeks softly. Jake inhale and exhale along with you, in hopes for you to follow his breathing pattern.

When you’ve finally calm down, you blink your tears away from your eyes, trying to see Jake in a clear view.

“But you told me that you would end this marriage after you get the title.”

Jake looks at you for a few seconds before letting out a soft laugh. He didn’t miss the pout that is forming on your face, making you look like a little girl crying for her lollipop. He shakes his head.

“I may have implied that, and I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes never leave Jake as you wait for him to continue his words.

“I thought that whatever we had between us will merely be another fleeting moment. But the more I’m with you, the greedier I became. What started of as pretending, I want it to be real. All of the moments that I had with you was everything I could imagine. Hell, it was better than my imaginations. You made it so easy to be with you. To cherish you. To care for you. Before I knew it, I want you all to myself.”

Jake’s arm that was on your back quickly circles your waist, pulling you close to his body. Slowly, he leans to your face, just enough for his lips to brush against yours.

“You are my lady. You are my woman. You are my wife. You are mine, and I’m not letting you go, ever.”

You gasp at his words. You can’t think straight after what you just heard. Who knows a guy like Jake can also be this romantic towards someone. Even more towards you. You, who just happened to study in the same school and work in the same place as he is. There are thousands of women he could go for, and yet he chose to settle down with you. At this point, you can die happily.

“So, what do you say, Mrs. Sim? Are you in for it, or you want to run away? But just so you know, I will chase you to the end of the world if you choose the latter.”

Your eyes search for his, just to see that he’s already gazing at you with sincerity, passion, and a hint of something you’ve never seen before. The guy that you’ve been watching and only watching are in front of you with his arm clinging onto your waist protectively.

You know that if you try to say anything, your voice will betray you. So, you opt for the easier choice – nodding your head, indicating that you’re saying yes to him.

The corner of Jake’s lips curls up into a small smirk before he claims your lips with his. After holding back for so long, he finally has you in his arms as his one and only. Good things always come to those who wait. Jake might have to study more about the philosophies considering that it had been proven real to him.

The kiss that both of you shares are filled with a lot of passion and affections. All the restrains that you and Jake put onto yourself are now broken. His hands are now rubbing on your side as he turns his head to the other side, deepening the kiss. You let Jake lead the kiss as you circle your arms around his neck to prevent you from falling.

You are not surprised that his kiss will make you weak at your knees. You have always known he would be a good kisser. But you didn’t expect that he will kiss you as if his life depends on it.

A moan escapes from you when Jake purposely bites your lower lips. Both of you pull away slightly to take a breath. Looking at Jake’s expression, you finally understand the meaning behind his gaze earlier.

As for Jake, he is staring at you. You look more beautiful than you already are with your lips slightly swollen because of him – and he takes pride in it. He was planning to tease you when he bit you earlier. He didn’t know that you would make a sound that could awakened something in him. He knew that he won’t be able to take it if he didn’t control himself, so he put your kiss into a halt.

Jake brushes his nose gently against yours, making you look up to him. His hand moves up to caress your cheek once again.

“All the time spent of me looking at you from afar back in school, I knew it’s going to be worth it.”

Your cheeks turn bright red at his words, but it didn’t fail to make you frown in confusion.

“Looking at me? You were looking at me the whole time?! I thought I was the one doing that to you?”

Jake chuckles at your words before placing a soft peck against your nose.

“You weren’t the only one who have great eyes.”

He winks at you, making you laugh along with him. You didn’t know that he was doing the same thing that you did to him. Maybe you are fated for him, just like he thought when he met you for the first time.

“I love you, Mrs. Sim Y/n.”

“I love you too, Mr. Sim Jaeyun.”

Both of you stay in silent, just admiring each other before Jake decided to break it.

“So, shall we go and continue this somewhere else? I don’t think I can hold myself longer.”

Your jaw dropped at his words before hitting his chest. He winces in pain and rubs the spot before turning to you and steals a kiss on your lips. He then picks you up bridal style and bring you back home, where you will be spending time with him all night long, skin-to-skin.

—

It had been months since Jake was announced as the new CEO of the infamous Sim’s company. The business starts to grow even more. A lot of international clients are interested to work alongside with Jake. He is compatible, responsible, and most importantly, he knows what he wants, and he knows he will get it.

But of course, you were there with him the whole time. Ever since you and Jake confessed to each other, both of you are becoming more and more clingy and loving towards each other. Nevertheless, you know the difference between professionalism and personal, considering that you are now working as your husband’s secretary.

You tried to deny his offer a lot of times before, saying that it will be a talk of the office if she becomes his secretary. But knowing Jake, he wants to make sure that you are with him all the time. Well, he wishes for you to be with him every time.

Until he has a business trip to attend to.

“Are you sure you don’t want to follow me? You can rest there,” Jake tried to persuade you for the nth times to follow him to the trip. His lips keep on placing kisses to yours with his arms around your waist, an attempt to melt your down.

“But you will be working, my love. I don’t want to go anywhere without you. It will feel incomplete without you by my side.”

Jake groans softly at your words, but he can’t deny it as well. You are telling the truth. He will be working all day and will only come back at night. If he were at your shoes, he would refuse to go as well. What’s the point of going on a trip with your spouse if you can’t spend time together properly.

But it doesn’t change the fact that Jake is still sad, thinking about not having you with him for three days straight. Naturally, a pout forms on his face, showing that he’s still upset.

You let out a soft sigh as you look at your husband. You then stand on your toe and kiss his pout away.

“Let’s put it this way – the sooner you take off, the sooner you will be back with me. Does that sound better to you?”

Jake just nods his head obediently, once again resembling a puppy. He then pulls you into a tight hug.

“I love you, Mrs. Sim. Remember that, okay?”

The corner of your lips curls up into a smile as your rub your husband’s back up and down.

“I love you too, Mr. Sim. Always and forever.”

Both of you let go of each other, yet your hands are still intertwined with one another. The sight makes you chuckle a bit.

“You need to go. Don’t want you to miss the flight.”

Jake nods his head once again. After leaving kisses on your head, down to your forehead, eyes, nose and lips, he finally walks into the gate, waving his hand at you. You wave back to him with a reassuring smile on your face.

Once he is gone from your sight, you start to miss his presence. This is the first time you had to separate with him ever since your marriage. He was always there with you, whether to comfort you, love you, or even annoy the hell out of you.

But as his wife, you know he needs your full support for him to move forward and bringing you along with him on this journey. You need to be in your optimum energy to help him achieve his dreams.

That is why you are currently in the bakery nearby your house. You can’t be energetic if you are hungry. You were scanning through all of the options when someone called your name from behind.

“Y/n?”

You turn to the owner of the voice, just to see Yunjin, looking effortlessly beautiful like she always does.

“I never thought I would bump into you here. Are you alone?”

Her question bothers you a bit, not going to lie. But you remind yourself that it was all in the past. Jake is yours, and only yours.

With a genuine smile, you look up at her. “Yeah. Jake is on a trip for a few days. I’m just running a quick errand.”

Yunjin nods her head at you. Her eyes soften at the sight of you.

“Jake is so lucky to have a wife like you. So beautiful yet so diligent.”

You look down at Yunjin’s sudden compliments. Your cheeks are slowly turning into crimson red. It makes it impossible for Yunjin not to find you adorable.

“Ah, how about we hang out whenever we have time. Here’s my number.”

Yunjin holds out her business card. You look at it. Huh Yunjin, the owner of YJ Fashion House. You knew Yunjin is an amazing woman, and her status just increase her level in your head. You take the card and keep it safely in your bag.

“Sure. Thank you for the offer Yunjin.”

She just nods her head to you. As you were about to bid her goodbye, she put you into a halt.

“Oh also, can we take a picture together? I’ve been dying to have one with you ever since we met that day.”

Your eyes twinkles at the thought of a brilliant woman such as Yunjin, wanting to take pictures with you, who are just merely a secretary to your husband. You then nod your head at her, giving her your approval.

She grins widely, showing how happy she is. Using her phone, she flips the camera so that you and Yunjin can take a few selfies.

“I will send the pictures to you later. It was nice meeting you again, y/n.”

“It was nice meeting you as well, Yunjin.”

Just like that, both of you part your ways to your own destinations, not knowing that a storm will be coming your way soon.

—

After three full days of dealing with works, Jake finally returns to your arms during the weekends. At first, Jake insists to bring you out. But you don’t want him to force himself as he needs rest.

So, during the weekends, you decided to just stay inside and pamper Jake to the fullest. Of course, being the clingy needy husband he is, he don't mind it at all. For two days straight you pay attention to him and only him, and he did the same to you.

No talking about work. Just small talks from time to time. Most of the time though you spend your time with Jake snuggling and cuddling you. You love the fact that he is not afraid to show his vulnerable side to you. He may look like he got it together in front of people, but with you, he’s still a kid stuck in a grown-up body.

But of course, that doesn’t last longer. There are times when he wants more than just be close to you – and he did just that. You don’t know how you can handle it considering that his drives are quite high.

Just like that, the weekends passed by quickly and you are back to being his secretary once again. As usual, you would inform his schedule and relay messages that you received on behalf of Jake while he was away. The files that are in need of his actions had been laid out neatly on his table.

“Can I get you anything, Mr. Sim?” You asked after you’ve finished conveying everything that he needs to know.

Jake hums softly. “Can you tell Mrs. Sim that she looks ravishing today?”

You roll your eyes at his remarks as he flashes an innocent smile at you.

“I will let her know, Mr. Sim. If there’s nothing, I will make my way.”

You bow your head respectfully before sending him a playful wink and walk out of his office.

Jake being Jake decides to follow you – specifically your butt – with his eyes until you are out of his sight. This have happened countless times before. If he ignores the professionalism between both of you, he knows he would have you in his office any time he wanted.

Without wasting any more time, Jake’s hands move across the files and papers on his tray. He lets out a soft sigh looking at the amount of works that he needs to review. Well, he did ask for it so he can’t say anything about it.

But what really catches his attention is a brown envelope, sealed perfectly. The only thing written on the envelope is Jake’s name. He takes the envelope and turn it. There, he could see the word ‘private and confidential’.

He tilts his head to the side. He doesn’t recall any agreements that he needs to sign that is confidential. With a shrug of his shoulder, he unseals the envelope. He inserts his hand into it and take out what seems to be pictures.

His curiosity changed into anger as fast as lightning at the view in front of him. His eyes are brimming with tears, threaten to fall. With shaking hands, he pressed the intercom and called you into his office.

He doesn’t sound good. You’ve known him long enough to know that he is upset just by his voice through the speaker. Without a second thought, you knock on his door and enter his office when he approves of you.

You look at his state with a frown. His face is hidden behind his arms that was connected as he clasps his hand together. If you could make a guess, you would say that he looks miserable. You were about to ask him, but he decided to speak up first.

“What were you doing when I wasn’t around?”

Your frown grows deeper at his question.

“I was at the office in the morning and went back home in the evening. I didn’t go anywhere except for grocery stores to buy a few stuffs for our home.”

Jake scoffs at your last two words. Our home.

“Our home, where you were fucking someone else in our bed?”

Your jaws dropped at his words. This is unfair. Did he really think that low of you? That you would simply having fun with other guys when he’s not around? This is ridiculous.

One thing you can’t stand is when people falsely blaming you on something that you didn’t do. Slowly, you can feel yourself getting fired up.

"You, out of people, accused me of cheating on you?"

Jake lifts his head up to look at you. His eyes are red from all the crying that he did before you stepped into the office.

"Well, explain these then?"

Jake threw the pictures in his hands on the table. You bend down to get a better view of it. In those pictures, it was you and a man, tangled to one another in various positions.

Your eyes widened at the images in front of you. You knew it wasn't you. Although it was your face in there, but you didn't do all of that. You would never betray the trust of the man in front of you. You didn’t even think of betraying him in the first place.

But how, how can the woman in the picture looks a lot like you, when you know you have never slept with any man other than him.

"I don't know about this Jake, but I swear I have never done all of these. Please, believe me."

Your eyes are glistening with tears as you look at him, begging for him to trust you.

But you know it was no use. The way he looks at you is no longer like how he used to. It was filled with love and affection ever since the day both of you said, 'I do'.

Now, it was as if whatever he felt for you has vanished. The only emotion that he could feel is numbness and emptiness. He thought that you would be different than others. Turns out you're just the same.

You're just another woman, staying by his side just for the benefits.

Without saying anything, Jake grabs his blazer and walks out of the office, leaving you standing in the room, crying your heart out.

This isn't what you imagined how it's going to be. You thought everything would be fine the moment Jake kissed you that day. That you would finally experience your first and true love.

You didn't expect for all of these to happen. Your mind suddenly drifts off to the night of the gala. Were you and Jake not supposed to have your happy ending? If only one of you end this marriage like how it should, would any of this still happened?

Right, this all happened because of you. You selfishly want to be in this marriage despite knowing that it has to come to an end. You have no one to blame but yourself.

You thought that you finally had him for yourself. The man that you have always been attracted to. The man that never fails to make your heart feels full. You were stupid enough to believe that.

As you are left alone in the office, you thought to yourself, ‘I should’ve let my fairytale remain as a fairytale'.

—

“Huh, it’s surprising to see that you are not drunk. Guess you really changed.”

Jay’s disclaimer receives a glare from Jake. His expression clearly shows that he is not in the mood for jokes or anything stupid.

“And what do you mean by that?”

“When you broke up last time, you almost got into a fight with me,” Sunghoon answered on behalf of Jay.

Jake turns to Sunghoon before letting out a scoff.

“In my defence, you started it.”

Sunghoon raise one of his brows. He decides to ignore the remarks to avoid any arguments... again. He raises his glass to his lips and drink from it.

“So, what is it this time?”

Jake sigh at Jay’s question. He contemplates whether to tell his friends the truth or not. His friends on the other hand, knows him too well.

Despite getting hurt or betrayed, Jake had always been selective in giving out details about his personal life. For him, it’s supposed to be kept in minimal. Whatever happened inside the house, stays inside the house.

As much as his friends respect him for that, sometimes they wish that Jake could open up just a bit, so that they can help him in any way they feel necessary.

“Let’s just say that our marriage is getting too... crowded.”

Jay and Sunghoon look at each other. It wasn’t that direct, but it’s not indirect either. Everyone has their own interpretation. In this case, Jake seems to imply that there is a third party involved in their relationship.

However, Jay and Sunghoon found it hard to believe because you don’t look like someone who would go out there and cheat on a man that truly love you for who you are. But then, they might be wrong as well.

“Are you sure y/n would do that to you?”

Jake shrugs his shoulders at Jake’s question. He lifts his glass to his lips and gulp down the remaining liquid.

“As much as I would like to deny it, I’m not sure if I can do that with the evidence that I have.”

Sunghoon nods his head in understanding manner. He then pats Jake’s shoulder and flash him a small smile.

“You do what you got to do man. We’ll be here for you, always.”

Jake replies Sunghoon with a smile. He’s truly blessed for having such understanding best friends. He might not be lucky in love, but he knows he won lottery with friendship. So, it’s okay.

He’s going to be okay.

I'm going to be okay.

When Jake enters the dark room, suddenly everything feels empty. It feels like his life is crumbling down again. The thought that he kept repeating like a mantra before vanished just like that.

He knows he can’t possibly go back home. Not with his current state. He needs to get away from all of these. He wants to forget about everything.

Unconsciously, he walks towards his office desk. The pictures were still scattered like how he left them earlier. The pictures are enough to ignite his anger. He has never felt so deeply disappointed in someone before.

He thought that he knows you enough to not be suspicious of you. But he never knew that you’re just another wolf in sheep’s skin.

Jake picks up one of the pictures. If only he could get hold onto the man in the picture, he knew he would beat him up until no one could recognize him ever again.

Maybe he should’ve ended their relationship according to the original plan. Jake sighs to himself. He has no one to blame but himself. He trusts you too easily. In the end, he is the one who got fooled.

He examines the picture one last time for the night as he’s thinking of a solution to all of this.

When he finally found an answer, the corner of his lips curls up into a smirk. Bingo.

—

Hundreds of calls, thousands of messages, and you still haven’t heard anything from Jake.

You know that he needs some time to calm down. Yet you can’t help but to feel worried for him. The least you want to know is where would he spend the night and if he’s eaten anything.

But there is nothing you can do. You must let him be for the night. To be fair, no one would be okay if out of nowhere there’s a picture of your partner being intimate with another person – let alone tons of pictures of it.

Your tears had dried down from all the crying that you did earlier. As soon as Jake stormed out of the office, you made the decision to empty out his schedule for the day, claiming that he was on sick leave.

As for you, you requested to take a week leave and informed Mr. Sim – your father-in-law – about it. You didn’t say for what but by the look on your face, he could guess there is something going on between you and Jake.

“Things are bound to happen. Take a break. I promise you it will be fine. Sooner or later, it will get better.”

You smile at his words. You are not sure if you and Jake will ever be fine after the incident but at least your father-in-law's words managed to bring up your spirit.

As much as you are still upset about everything, you want to get everything right. You will make it right again.

You are sitting on the couch in the living room with a picture in your hand. You managed to steal one of it from the pile in Jake’s office earlier.

Biting your lower lips, you lift the picture to your face so you can see it more clearly. That’s when you notice something different about the picture.

Without second thought, you grab your phone and dial a number. After a few rings, the receiver picks up the phone.

“Hey, can we meet up tomorrow?”

—

“So, what do you think?”

Sunoo hums to himself and look at you. He hands the picture that you gave earlier.

“You’re right. It’s edited. Most probably AI.”

You tilt your head in confusion.

“AI?”

“Artificial Intelligence. It was programmed to help human in various ways – workforce, study, music – you name it.”

You nod your head before a frown form on your face.

“But what does that have to do with my case?”

Sunoo smirks to himself. He pulls out his phone and type something on his phone before showing you a picture. You take his phone and identify it. You don’t know why but the picture looks very familiar to you. It was as if you have been there.

That’s when it clicks in your head. You look at the person’s face closer and you see that the person resembles Sunoo but he’s wearing the outfit that you used to wear back in college.

“Isn’t this my picture? Why does this look like you?”

Sunoo smiles at your reaction.

“That’s also an AI. I just chose a picture of my face and replaced it with yours. It didn’t copy my face 100% but the resemblance is there.”

His smile fades away as he leans forward to you.

“The same thing with your case. Whoever edited it must have your picture as well. Yes, AI can be helpful to us. But some people use it for other purposes – framing, blackmailing, humiliation. At the end of the day, it depends on the person’s intention.”

You think to yourself, trying to figure out the possible suspect. As far as you know, none of the people in your circle is suspicious considering. There’s only Sunoo, few of your college friends, and-

Your eyes widen at the realization. You look up at Sunoo.

“It couldn’t be…”

—

“Jake!”

Jake turns his head towards the owner of the voice. There, stand his ex-girlfriend, looking like how she normally would.

“It’s been a long time since we last talk to each other, right,” she said before inviting herself to sit across him.

Jake didn’t do anything except following her movements with his eyes.

“So, what’s the sudden occasion? I thought you blocked me already.”

He let out a soft chuckle at Yunjin’s remarks before shaking his head and flashing her a small smile.

“Nothing. Just thought that it would be nice to meet you again.”

Yunjin bites her lower lips, holding back herself from smiling too widely at the possibility of Jake missing her like how she missed him.

“Don’t say it like that. If your wife heard you, she would think that we had something going on.”

Jake’s face fell at the mention of his wife, and Yunjin didn’t miss that. Her expression changed to worry when she saw Jake frowns his brows.

“Hey, did anything happen?”

Jake swallows his saliva, a bit too loud for her liking. He then shakes his head, trying to not make Yunjin ask further questions about it.

She sighs softly at Jake. He’s always so nice. Yunjin was used to this side of Jake. Just like his friends, she too knows that Jake isn’t someone who would simply talk about his life to anyone.

But looking at his state now, Yunjin wishes nothing but for Jake to at least share a bit of the burden with her. She wishes that she can take care of him, like how she used to back then.

Yunjin reaches her hand to Jake’s on the table, making the guy lifts his face to look at her. She flashes him a soft smile as she caresses his hand.

“Don’t worry. I’m here for you, Jake. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

Jake looks down at her hand. Without thinking, he holds her hand and bring it close to his face.

Yunjin was stunned at the sudden gesture. She could feel his breath against her skin. Oh, how she missed it. She missed Jake so much. She missed being loved by him. She missed loving him as well. If only he knows that she would do anything to have him back.

“I thought you don’t like tattoo.”

Jake’s remarks pull Yunjin out from her daydream. Her eyes then fall onto her inner forefinger where she planted her tattoo. Her lips curl into a soft smile.

“I got it after we broke up. I was devastated so I did it.”

Jake nods his head and flashes her a smile before his eyes fall back onto the tattoo.

Both of them stay in silent, with Jake still gazing at her tattoo. She thought that it was cute how Jake never seems to take his eyes from it. Not to mention her pride when he notices the small details about her – just like when they used to be together before.

Before Yunjin could stop herself, she confessed to Jake.

“I miss you, Jake. I always have.”

—

It was raining heavily outside. Today, marks the third day of Jake not coming back home. You’ve tried to reach him, but it seems like he has blocked you.

You asked Jay and Sunghoon about Jake, yet the only thing that they could say was to give him space and time. Speaking of loyal friends, huh.

You miss Jake a lot. You miss Jake so much to the point that you still cooked for him, even though the chance of him coming back home to you is thin. Aside from meeting Sunoo, you didn’t go anywhere else.

You only wait for Jake, day and night, without fail. You didn’t bother to sleep in the bedroom anymore. You just stay in the living room, wanting to greet him whenever he chooses to come back home.

Turns out, your effort does not go in vain.

As the clock strikes 12 midnight, Jake opens the door and enter the house. He takes off his shoes and put it in the cupboard.

“Welcome home, Jake.”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he chooses to ignore you and walk up the stairs. You stand up from the couch and call his name, stopping him on his track.

“Where were you?”

He stays silence.

“Have you eaten?”

Again, nothing.

“Did you meet Yunjin-“

“It’s none of your business.”

You look at Jake, whose back is facing you before letting out a scoff. Of course, he will only talk to you if you mention her name. The name that he can’t seem to let go. The name that used to be his sweetheart for four years.

Betrayal and hurt dominates your heart. The softness in you is now gone. You did not just wait in the house, waiting for him to come just to find out that he’s out there with his ex-girlfriend.

“I knew it. You can’t forget about her, right? After all these years, she’s still the one in your mind.”

Your eyes slowly tear up.

“I’m just the replacement. A woman you used to climb up to your title.”

That’s not it.

“A woman that you can use as your trophy.”

That’s not true.

“A woman that you will throw away once you’re done using her to fulfil your needs-”

“Enough!”

You gasp at the sudden scream from Jake. The head that were facing the opposite side is now looking straight at you. His hands form into fist, with his thumbs hiding against his palms. His lips tremble from the anger that build up in him.

It was wrong. It was all wrong. Whatever you said about yourself, it was wrong. Jake has never seen you as trophy. He never wants to take advantage of your kindness. He loved you with all his heart and soul.

The worst part is, he still does.

“Jake…”

Jake’s face softens at the sound of your voice calling his name for the second time tonight. He missed it. He missed you. A lot. He wants to be with you again like how it used to be. He wants to get pampered by you. He wants to give you all the loves and affections that you deserve.

But he can’t because he promised himself he will end it tomorrow.

“Do you still love her?”

His breath hitched at your question. His eyes move to look at you, just to see that your eyes are red from all the crying that you did for the past few days. The thought of you crying for him while he wasn’t around makes him sick.

He can’t help but blame himself for putting you in such situation. You didn’t deserve all of these. You deserve to be with a man that can make you happy and showers you with all the things the world could offer.

Not with a guy like him who will only make you sad and cry all the time. You shouldn’t be here. He didn’t deserve you at all.

Without any words, Jake turns his head back to the stairs. He continues to walk up the stairs and into the bedroom, leaving you standing in the living room with tears falling down your cheeks.

As soon as you hear the door closes, you fall on your knees to the floor. You’re tired. You’ve reached your limit. You don’t think you can keep up with this any longer.

Jake doesn’t care about you anymore. You’ve been worried sick about him. He didn’t come back home. He didn’t go to office either. Sunghoon and Jay also said that they didn’t know where he is.

But he doesn’t care. After all these times, the only thing that he spoke to you was in the form of anger.

You feel pity for yourself. You’re worthless. You can feel your body slowly fall on the ground, and you just let it happen.

Right at that moment, your eyes fall upon the ring at your hand. The sparkles are still there, as if it’s still new.

Will it still look the same if it was on her hand, or will it look better?

As your eyes close for the night, you thought to yourself, I will end it tomorrow.

It will end tomorrow.

—

“Did I make you wait too long?”

Yunjin was drinking from her cup before you appear in front of her. She put down her drink and shakes her head with a smile on her face.

“No, I don’t mind. I understand you must have business to attend to.”

Despite looking all innocent, you can sense the sarcasm behind her voice. Your eyebrows lift slightly in amusement.

Huh, so this is the real Yunjin.

You sit across Yunjin as she picks up her cup and drink from it again.

“So, what do you want to talk about?”

You pursue your lips at her. You think to yourself to decide the method that you want to go for.

After a few seconds, your hands move to unzip your bag to take out a picture of ‘you’ and the unknown man. Without hesitation, you place the picture on the table and slide it to her.

“I will cut to the chaste. That woman… it’s you. Am I right?”

Yunjin takes the picture in her hand before letting out a historical laugh, enough to get everyone’s attention.

Humiliation. That is how Yunjin wants to play.

“Are you blind? It’s your face in the picture. Not mine.”

You can hear people starts murmuring about the scene that is about to unfold in front of them. But you pay them no attention. You are determined to end everything today. Right here, right now.

“The face does belong to me. But not the body.”

Yunjin’s eyes twitch at your counter. You tilt your head to the side, studying her reaction.

“Look at it properly. That tattoo on the inner side of the finger; it matches yours, right?”

Her face fell when you mention about it. Yunjin bring the picture closer to her and scan the picture. That’s when she saw the tattoo.

How could she forget to remove it before printing it? How could she be so careless? The fact that you even know the tattoo belongs to her… How can it be possible? You’ve only met her twice. That’s not enough for anyone to actually notice something as small as this.

“I’ve always been good in observing people. It doesn’t take me long to notice your tattoo considering that it’s on the same hand that you shook mine with back at the gala night.”

Yunjin feels like a huge rock has hit her head. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!

The whispers around you increase more and more as time passed by.

I can’t believe someone as beautiful as her can be so ugly deep inside.

So pathetic. Slept with a guy and blame others for it.

She’s nothing but a whore.

Yunjin’s lips tremble at the words thrown to her. This is not how she planned it to be. She wants to humiliate you, but it went to her instead. It doesn’t make sense. If only you didn’t marry Jake, none of this would happen and she would still be with him by his side.

She is supposed to hold the title of Mrs. Sim. She is much more worthy as his wife. But it all went down because of you.

However, she didn’t plan to give up. At least not today.

Yunjin gathers her composure before leaning her back against her chair.

“You could’ve purposely placed the tattoo in the picture. Isn’t it easier that way?”

With only those sentence, the people’s opinion suddenly changed.

Why can’t she leave the woman alone?

She must be hungry for attention. That’s why she purposely blames the other woman.

A woman who betrays its own kind should not be labelled as a woman at all.

The corner of Yunjin’s lips curl up into a smirk. People are easily manipulated. All you need to do is to say a few things and they will instantly believe you whether it’s real or fake.

She has won. The victory is hers.

Unfortunately for her, the success doesn’t last long. You knew she would say that which is why you’ve been keeping another strong evidence to prove that it’s not you in the picture.

As you reach inside your bag, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You look up at the owner of the hand. Your eyes widened at the sight of Jake.

You didn’t expect him to be here - so does Yunjin. He is not supposed to know you’re here. What is he even doing here? Did he make another appointment with Yunjin?

“You want another proof that it’s not her? Here, I bring the real guy from the picture.”

Jake said to Yunjin before moving to the side slightly, revealing a man named K standing behind him. Her eyes instantly widened at the sight of him. The exact same guy that she paid to frame you. The exact same guy that she slept with, just for the sake of destroying your marriage with Jake.

Yunjin shakes his head to herself.

“No. I don't know this guy. I didn’t do anything.”

“You slept with me, and you said you didn’t do it? Did you forgot that I also have the original picture?”

Yunjin’s eyes move to K, and she stood up from the chair.

“I paid you to keep quiet!”

K scoffs at her.

“No. You paid me to sleep with you. That’s it.”

Yunjin bites her lips before letting out a frustrated groan. She turns to Jake and tries to grab his hands, but Jake avoided her advanced towards him.

“Jake, I have a reason. I did all of this for you. I love you, Jake. I love you so much.”

You don’t like the view in front of you. As a woman, you feel pitiful towards Yunjin. One would never think a beauty such as herself would go low just for the sake of love. Refusing to witness how pathetic Yunjin is, you hug yourself and look to your side.

Jake on the other hand can read your body language. He knows you want to run away from the commotion. As your husband, he wants nothing more than fulfilling your wish and needs. So, he must end it now.

“Do you know why I broke up with you, Yunjin?”

Jake’s question makes Yunjin frown in confusion. Jake clears his throat, and his lips form a straight line.

“That day, I just got back from studying. When I walked into our room, I saw you sleeping soundly, with another guy next to you. I don’t need to know that you both are naked under the blanket considering that clothes were scattered on the floor. You claimed that you love me, but you still had the guts to cheat on me. That’s why I broke up with you...”

Jake turns to look at you for a few seconds before facing Yunjin once again.

“... That’s why I will never ever be with you.”

At that, Jake pulls you up and circles his arm around your waist, before bringing you out of the place, leaving Yunjin faced the humiliation that she created.

—

As soon as you enter the house, Jake closes the door behind you and bring you to sit down in the living room. He then excuses himself to the kitchen to get two glasses of water. He brings the waters to the living room and put it on the table before sitting down next to you.

Both of you stay in silence for a while. You puff your cheeks before grabbing the glass and drink the water.

“How did you know I was there?”

Jake clears his throat. Now, it’s his turn to drink the water before answering your question.

“I... followed you?”

You turn to face Jake, blinking your eyes at his words.

“Really? You followed me? Since when?”

Jake rubs the back of his neck and flashes you a sheepish smile.

“Well, that day when I stormed off from office, I came back later that night. When I wanted to throw away the pictures, I felt something was off. That’s when I realized that the face does resembles you, but not totally you. Not to mention the hint of tattoo on the finger...”

His hands move to hold your hand gently. He brings up your hand to his face before smiling to himself.

“...I’ve kissed this same hand countless times to know that you’ve never had tattoo, my love.”

All emotions come at you at the same time when he called you, my love. Tears brimming at your eyes as you suddenly recalled those nights without Jake in your arms. The way he raised his voice for the first time at you are still fresh in your mind, considering it just happened yesterday.

“You hurt me, Jake. You hurt me so much.”

Jake looks at your teary eyes before leaning his forehead against yours, making you burst into tears as soon as it touches. He had always known that you are a soft person, and you prove him right.

He knows that he has hurt you so bad. Although it was only a few days, the pain in your heart will still need time to heal. He won’t blame you for hating him or anything. He deserves it.

“I know baby, I know. I left you alone, crying to yourself for days. I am a bad husband, and I am sorry for the way I behave. I should’ve believed you because you are my wife. My wife will never cheat on me, and I should know better.”

You just nod your head, agreeing to his words as tears still flowing down your cheeks.

Jake’s hands move up to caress your arms to your shoulder and up to your face. His thumbs wipe away your tears, even though a lot are still threatening to fall.

“Please, forgive me. You can take as much time as you need, but please, don’t leave me, y/n. I want no one but you to be my wife. You are the only one for me. No one can change that.”

You open your eyes to look at Jake, just to find out that he is quietly sobbing. You can’t believe that there will be a day where Jake would cry in front of you. It just shows that he truly cares for you and whatever he said earlier is nothing but the truth.

Although a part of you is still upset with him, you can’t deny that your heart yearns to love and be loved by him. Just like him, you can’t imagine any other man as your lover, let alone your husband. You want him, and only him.

Your hand reaches up to cup his face, his eyes are now looking into yours. You could feel his breath against your skin, and that’s enough to tell you that he’s in front of you.

Without wasting time, you lean to Jake, pressing your lips against his, in which he responds with open heart. Both of you could taste each other’s tears, but you don’t care.

You and Jake have been spending time away from each other for too long ever since you got married to him. All the pent-up emotion and frustration can be felt with the way you and Jake can’t seem to let go of one another.

Suddenly, everything feels right all over again. The pieces that were scattered are now together once again. Your life had always been normal. But somehow, being together with Jake makes your life more colourful than it already is.

Deep in the heart, you and Jake promise to not leave one another anymore for both of you can’t live without each other. Jake needs you as much as you need Jake. No one in the world can ever change that.

As you are lost in Jake’s arms, you thank the universe for shaping you into Jake’s one and only, Mrs. Sim, forever.

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