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floralseokjin · 4 years ago

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⊶ final sleigh (m). ⊷

You took an (almost) immediate dislike to Seokjin during his first week at the office and six months later that distaste is not only still going strong, but also mutual. Working in sales, you view one another as competition, so what happens when you’re forced to organise the Christmas office party together? It’s a recipe for disaster, but one thing’s for sure, it doesn’t end the way you imagined it...

(Spoiler alert: you don’t wind up murdering him.)

pairing; kim seokjin x reader au/genre/warnings; workplace/office au, enemies/rivals to lovers, starts off as a holiday au but drabbles further develop the story, rom-com, hoseok, namjoon, jungkook and yoongi make appearances, smut; drunk grinding, drunk kissing, workplace (oral) sex, storeroom (oral) sex, oral sex (male & female receiving), fingering, dirty talk, jin has a big dick (obv) words; 23,363

continuing drabbles found here

Every year without fail you organised the office Christmas party at Jung&Co. As part of the office party committee it was of course a given. There were only two of you but as a workplace of just 12 that was ample enough. This year however, things were a little different, no matter how marginally. Joy was on maternity leave so you were now on your own this time around. Not that you minded. You could hold the fort no problem until she came back in January and you had to plan Creed, the quality assurance director’s birthday party.

Only Hoseok, your manager didn’t see it that simple. Insisted you needed an extra set of helping hands. Who? Was your first thought. No one had ever offered to help in the past three years and why would they start now? However, you were forgetting something… or should you say, someone. A new someone who you were sure had been transferred here to make your life a total misery. It was like someone up there had it in for you, and you couldn’t think of one explanation why. You were a good person; you donated to a cat shelter every month, you paid your taxes, you were always helpful and friendly, amazing at your job… The list went on. In fact, you were the best damn sales rep at this branch, high above the rest – Well… That was until he showed up.

“I’ll do it.” You heard Seokjin offer indifferently, as if he didn’t care a damn about the Christmas party. You knew he didn’t.

You swung around immediately, your chair squeaking against the wooden flooring with the force. You scoffed patronisingly. “Pfft. You?” You had never heard anything so unbelievable in your whole life.

Seokjin regarded you from where he sat in the back row. Hoseok had called a meeting this morning, needing to find a replacement for Joy as time was creeping up. it was a month until Christmas closure. The day the party was held, and he knew how much you liked to keep on top of things. You weren’t to be rushed.

“Yes. Me.” Of course he was smirking. “Why? Got a problem?”

Beside him, Jungkook the intern, looked between you both unsurely. No doubt the rest of your co-workers were too. This had become the norm now. They stayed silent every time you and he started squabbling. The past few months had been one big whirlwind of bickering and rivalry. Seokjin was your biggest competition. He was also the thorn in your side. Ever since he’d transferred branches from his hometown six months ago life in the office hadn’t been the same for you. It didn’t help that your desks were also situated next to one another. You had to sit opposite his annoying face 8 hours a day, five days a week. It was a living hell. And now you’d be forced to spend even more time with him? Over your dead body.

“No.” You folded your arms, still looking over at him from where you sat in the front. He wouldn’t win. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he was successfully getting to you. “You want to organise the office Christmas party?”

Of course you were calling his bluff. He was 100% doing this to piss you off. You were certain.

He chuckled. “I don’t know why it’s so unbelievable.”

You scoffed, growing frustrated. “You’re a guy!”

He raised one of his eyebrows. “Excuse me? Is that sexism I detect?” One corner of his mouth twitched. “Do I have to report you to Tim?”

Tim, the HR rep went to speak up, no doubt trying to pacify the situation, but already out of hand, you spoke over him, voice shrill. “Oh shut up, Seokjin.” Damn it, you’d bitten, hadn’t you? He was holding back his laughter. He knew what you meant. Your wording came out wrong, so you needed to correct yourself.

“I’m just saying, you don’t seem like a guy who loves to party plan in his spare time.”

He grinned widely, as smug as ever. “Well, I’m full of surprises, baby.”

Unimpressed you stared him down. “Do I need to report you to Tim for harassment?”

You weren’t paying attention to Tim this time around but no doubt he looked lost. He was an older, quiet man who seemed unsure what he was doing here most of the time. Seokjin didn’t help matters.

“For what?” He exclaimed. “Calling you baby? It’s a term of endearment.”

“Not from you it isn’t.”

Jungkook sniggered at that and you felt a little smug. Seokjin went to open his mouth, no doubt a clever comeback hot on his tongue, but Hoseok interrupted.

“Guys. Stop bickering or neither of you will be planning this party.”

You immediately spun around, facing the front. Seokjin wasn’t fucking this up for you. Although you didn’t think Hoseok would ever take that role away from you. He might have been your manager – and the CEO’s son – but you saw him as a friend. He never threw his authority around.

You crossed your arms as his attention fell to Seokjin, silently huffing. “Jin, please tell us why you nominated yourself.”

“Well,” he started his spiel, laying it on thick. You refused to look his way, even as everyone else in the conference room gave him their attention. “I love Christmas and I love organising things.” He made it sound so simple. Infuriating bastard. “I was always the person they counted on back home. I know how to throw a paaar-tayyyy!”

At his holler, he and Jungkook gave one another a high five, whooping at each other like a pair of idiots. It was impossible to think that Seokjin was the same age as you, a whole five years older than Jungkook. They obviously shared the same mental age.

“Well you’re not back home now.” You couldn’t help yourself, whipping around to tell him what was what. “I’m the one in charge here. I have the final say.” Sneering, you added, “You’d just be the help.”

Seokjin’s jaw twitched. You were irritating him now. You took great joy in that. “Hoseok said it was 50/50.”

“More like 75/25 where you’re concerned.”

“In my favour, yes.”

You felt your anger flare. “Hoseokkk,” you whined, turning your back to Seokjerk. “You can’t be serious letting him join the party planning committee?”

You knew he was doing it on purpose. He had no interest in helping you – he just wanted to annoy you, to take over.

Hoseok looked at you sympathetically. “Do you see anyone else offering to help, Y/N? Besides, it’s just for Christmas.” When you didn’t relent, he sighed. “You can’t do it all on your own.”

You held your arms tight across your chest, pouting like a big kid. “Watch me.”

“Impossible,” he chuckled softly. “You should be thanking Seokjin for being so helpful.”

Men. They were all traitors. Of course Hoseok would be in Seokjin’s favour, they once worked together back at the other branch just before Hoseok became manager here.

“Yeah, Y/N,” Seokjin called. You just knew he had that shit eating grin spread across his face, the one that plagued your nightmares – You could hear it in his tone. “You should be thanking me. But take your time, I know admitting defeat is hard for you.”

You breathed deeply through your nose, reminding yourself to stay calm, else he’d end up throttled by the time this party rolled around…

“Chop, chop!”

From your peripheral you could see Seokjin stood over you, clapping his hands, his crotch obscenely eye level. You pursed your mouth and continued typing up your report that needed to be in by today. You couldn’t bear to look at him, still mad from yesterday, and no doubt he just wanted to annoy you some more – his sole purpose it seemed. What a sad little life he lived.

“Y/N,” he prompted. You bit the inside of your cheek, exhaling through your nose. He wasn’t relenting, but lucky for you, lunch was in just over an hour. You could grin and bear him until then, surely?

“What?” You snapped, beginning to turn your head.

“We have our first meeting in five.”

You mouth grew dry as you made eye contact, but it wasn’t because of what he said, actually you barely had time to register it, his pearly whites pretty much dazzling you as he grinned.

You might have forgotten to mention a tiny detail about Seokjin, one you tried your best to forget, and tiny it was because it barely had an effect on you… Begrudgingly, you had to admit he was objectively handsome. Before you had taken that almost instantaneous dislike to him six months ago, you will confess that the first sighting of him had turned you a little weak at the knees. You were only human after all and you could appreciate a good looking face when you saw one. He even made Beryl and Michelle, who well into their sixties, giddy with a simple Good Morning – and he knew it. He knew how hot he was, which for you, just added to his overall lack of appeal.

However, sometimes he caught you off guard.

Like now.

You swallowed with some difficulty, willing saliva to coat the inside of your mouth, and ignoring the way the crisp white dress shirt hugged his waist, tucked into those very well fitting black pants of his (maybe too well fitting…), you let his words piece together.

“…Meeting?”

You furrowed your eyebrows slightly, what was he talking about? Hoseok hadn’t announced anything this morning. Was he just messing with you? You weren’t Jungkook. Those two might love playing pranks on one another, but you were actually mature in the workplace.

At the thought of Jungkook, you could hear him giggling up at the front of the office with the receptionist, Mina. How Hoseok hadn’t gathered they were sleeping together yet was beyond you. Actually, you were sure the rest of the office were slow to catch on too, but you maybe you had a clear (dis)advantage. You had to hear him and Seokjin discussing it more or less every single day – because men were dense and didn’t realise that no matter how low they spoke, a metre distance would not stop you from overhearing.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about the Christmas party already?” Seokjin continued to grin – and that’s when you realised it wasn’t of the friendly kind. It was of the provoking kind, because he wanted to piss you off. “I thought this was your area of expertise.”

You could feel your blood beginning to boil, your work forgotten on the screen. “You called a meeting without telling me?”

He shrugged. “What am I doing right now?” What, mere seconds before it started? You really were going to end up killing him one of these days. “I booked the conference room this morning.”

You grit your teeth together. “I organise the meetings.”

“Get a life.” He scoffed, judging you hard. “Besides, you’re a bit slow on the ball, aren’t you?”

“The party isn’t for another month.”

“Three weeks and 6 days actually,” he corrected. Then with a wink, he added, “I like being on top of things.”

You ignored his shitty (and inappropriate) innuendo with a roll of your eyes. “I was going to wait until Monday.” How dare he suggest you were unorganised.

With another lazy roll of his shoulders, he started to walk off, towards the small conference room situated in the office. “You snooze you lose.” Turning back casually, he pointed a finger to your desk. “Bring a notebook.”

Trying to laser through him with your best death glare you grabbed your notebook and stood up. He was treading on thin ice.

“This thing sounds dry as the Sahara,” Seokjin wailed loudly, hanging his head towards his (blank) notebook on the desk.

“Well you know where the door is,” you smiled. “I’m perfectly capable of organising this party on my own.”

Actually, if he didn’t like how you celebrated Christmas here, he could leave entirely. You wouldn’t miss him, and the others would surely get over it. You didn’t understand why they thought he was so amazing anyway. His sense of humour was grating to say the least – as well as his overall personality. He was nothing but a glorified salesman who walked the walk and talked the talk. You actually cared about your clients. All he cared about was numbers to help him boast, even if that meant stealing –

Never mind. That was in the past. You were the bigger person, you reminded yourself.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Seokjin scoffed, turning to look at you. He’d insisted you sat next to him even though you had been quite happy to sit at the furthest end of the table. “This place needs some Seokjin zest. Add a little flavour – a little spice.”

You dropped your head, muttering arrogant bastard under your breath as you picked up your pen to start brainstorming some ideas.

“What was that?” He asked, obviously hearing you.

You played dumb. “What was what?”

Thankfully, for the next ten minutes a very much welcomed silence fell over you as you both jotted down some ideas, although you were pretty sure Seokjin was just doodling at this point. Probably stickmen like the five year old he was. In between planning you threw a few texts your best friend’s way.

(12:14pm) You: Remind me why we tolerate men again? (12:15pm) Ana: For their dicks (12:15pm) Ana: But only if they’re pretty and they know how to use it (12:15pm) Ana: What’s up? (12:17pm) You: Guess who organised the first Christmas party meeting without telling me first 🙂 (12:18pm) Ana: Oh (12:19pm) You: Exactly (12:19pm) Ana: Dick cheese (12:20pm) Ana: Definitely not tolerable

You snorted at the mention of Seokjin’s nickname. Ana knew all about your very vocal disdain for the guy – in fact, she’d had to hear it all over again last night when you’d called her to complain about the very unfortunate turn in Christmas party planning events.

“Is that work or party related?”

Frustratingly, your obvious amusement had caught Dick cheese’s attention. “Shut up,” you muttered, but you did hide your phone from view, placing it screen down on the table. Hopefully he hadn’t caught a glimpse at anything dick and cheese related. He was definitely the type to report you to Tim for workplace bullying.

You turned to look at him, childishly taking great pleasure in the way a piece of his brown hair had bunched up on top of his head – probably from where’d he’d been itching, racking his pea-sized brain for ideas. He hadn’t noticed, and you weren’t going to point it out. He’d realise soon enough when he had to use the restroom – unless he didn’t wash his hands afterwards, which wouldn’t surprise you.

“We’re in a meeting, save texting your boyfriend for lunch.”

“I’m not texting – never mind.” You stopped yourself. There was no point biting. He wanted you to do that, knowing the insinuating tone he’d used would surely get you mad. As if you’d ever have a boyfriend, ha ha, very funny and original – NOT. He needed better jokes.

“If you were actually bringing something to the table I wouldn’t be bored enough to get distracted,” you shot instead.

He looked wholeheartedly offended. “I’m not the only one involved in this. You think of some ideas.”

“I have been.” You replied loudly. “It’s the same process every year, okay? Theme, food and Secret Santa. That’s all we need to organise.” You’d already been through this.

“So fucking boring,” he groaned slowly.

“You’re wrong.”

He snorted, visibly amused by your insistence. “And that Y/N, is why you are a square.”

“You don’t even know me!” You exclaimed.

“I know enough. I’ve sat opposite you for the past six months.”

“Yeah, and don’t I know it,” you muttered. You had not known peace since.

He laughed then, surprising you enough to make you jump a little. “Babe, are you ever going to forgive me for Rosal & Steinar?”

You glared at him. How dare he bring that up. It was a very sensitive topic, one you wanted to forget about because each time it popped up inside your brain you wanted to kick him – aggressively and relentlessly.

Seokjin’s first week here had not been good for you. First, he had made you weak at the knees by just casually existing, then, Hoseok had introduced him as Jung&Co.’s best salesperson, and lastly, after being struck down with a terrible cold, you’d been sent home from work on the morning of your biggest client’s renewal day. Hoseok had insisted that you couldn’t sell stationary without a voice. You had claimed you could, but it wasn’t good enough. You were sick and needed to go before you infected anyone else.

The following Monday, still snorting sinus spray like it was cocaine, you’d arrived at work to find out that Rosal & Steinar had renewed their contract… with Seokjin. Life couldn’t have been going anymore wrong. In the past month you’d had to deal with the guilt of breaking off a two year relationship, acquiring a new competition in your place of work that had ultimately already lost you your best client, and you’d gotten sick for the first time in four years.

You blamed Seokjin. He’d been sent to curse you. (Although, admittedly the breakup had happened before you’d known of his existence… Not that it mattered.)

That’s why it was now your life’s goal to become Jung&Co.’s best salesperson, because Hoseok’s opinion didn’t mean shit, and one way or another you were going to take down Seokjin.

So yeah, no matter how much you insisted that the past was in the past, it obviously wasn’t.

You raised an eyebrow, choosing to ignore his question. “What did I say about reporting you?” You weren’t his babe. Or baby. Or whatever else he liked to use.

“Sorry,” he apologised, rather genuinely at that, which was surprising. “It was a slip of the tongue.”

You let out a short sigh. “Let’s just get on with this. There’s half an hour until lunch and I need to leave on time to meet my friend.” Neither of you had thought of anything solid yet.

“Is that who you were messaging?”

Seokjin seemed curious – interested? You couldn’t think of the correct word. Either way he was getting too friendly and pushing boundaries you’d rather not have him cross. “Is that any of your business?”

He shrugged, unaffected, and got back down to business. “Why can’t we just rent out a venue? Nothing is fun without any booze.”

“We don’t do that anymore,” you answered.

“How come?”

You inwardly groaned. You didn’t really want to get into it, this meeting had already been a complete and utter flop, but you guessed if you told him why you no longer celebrated outside of office hours he’d understand and shut up about the damn office party.

“It was a while ago. Before Hoseok was manager.” You began. “We used to all have Christmas lunch and then go out for drinks… and it was fun, don’t get me wrong,” you emphasised, knowing that he was just itching to call you boring. “But the last time we did it, our manager at the time ended up sleeping with the married receptionist and –”

“Mina?!” Seokjin exclaimed, interrupting story time.

“No, not Mina,” you cried. As if Jungkook would be oblivious to the fact she was married, but then again, he was pretty dumb. He’d been here eight months already and still didn’t know how to photocopy properly.

“Before her.” You stressed, noticing the shock on Seokjin’s face disappear. “They were both wasted but it was still no excuse. Her husband found out, charged into the office Monday morning.��

“Oh, fuck.” Seokjin chuckled, obviously enjoying the drama.

“He was ready to fight but it didn’t end well, because… our manager was a black belt.”

You winced at the memory, remembering that morning very well. The initial shock, the screams, your manager morphing into the Hulk… the punches… the blood… It was crazy to say the least, and after Christmas you never saw the man again. Devin, the CFO, informed you he’d “moved on” by his own willing but you didn’t really believe that. Hoseok was his replacement. Mina was hired shortly after when Kevin couldn’t handle the stress of being an accountant and a receptionist on the side.

“Brilliant,” Seokjin laughed, clapping his hands together. “So, the guy who’d gotten cheated on had the shit kicked out of him in front of the whole office?”

“Pretty much,” you nodded, still feeling a little sad for the man even though it was three years ago now – and you didn’t even know his name. “Ever since then it’s been a buffet in the conference room kind of thing.”

Looking over at Seokjin then, you suddenly had the urge to add, “It’s safer. No one ends up fucking that way.”

His eyes bulged and he broke into a little cough at the shock of the word falling from your mouth so easily, choking on his own laugh. “Fuck…” He went to repeat, only petering off last minute, shaking his head in disbelief.

You tried not to feel smug about it but you couldn’t help it. Lame, yes you were.

“Fine,” Seokjin sighed, resignation in his tone. “Stupid fricking office party it is.”

“I’m glad that we finally agree on something.”

He just rolled his eyes at you.

The next couple of weeks went by quite fast and slowly, in between work, you and Seokjin actually got somewhere with the party planning – surprisingly. At first he’d been adamant to separate each job between you, but that was only because he wanted to be in charge of the theme. You’d point-blank refused. As much as you hated it, you needed to work together as a team, so that meant making decisions together. Star Wars at Christmas wasn’t exactly something you agreed on, but neither was Christmas cats. (“You need to get laid ASAP”, had been his words when you’d suggested such an idea… but he didn’t really have a leg to stand on as a Star Wars fan, so…).

Finally, after just over a week of brainstorming (and bickering), you decided on something: Family Christmas. It wasn’t the most original idea, but it was something, and you’d already thought of a bunch of things to do ready for it, which involved Jungkook getting his camera out and everyone dressing up in their holiday pyjamas.

It was a Monday afternoon right now, an hour until you went home for the day, and you and he were making use of some spare time you had – making a list of all the decorations you needed to purchase. He’d dragged his chair over to your desk which you weren’t very happy about but what could you do? Sometimes sacrifices had to be made, especially when it came down to Christmas.

“It was my birthday over the weekend,” Seokjin told you casually.

“Oh, was it?”

You could feel his gaze on your face as you scribbled down in your notebook. “Didn’t you see on Facebook? Everyone was wishing me happy birthday.”

“Were they?” You said impassively, now aware he was itching for some attention. “I don’t go on there that much.” Why you’d accepted his friend request still baffled you, but you were always the bigger, better person in life. Plus, you’d stopped logging in months ago.

There was a pause. Ahh, lovely, silence. What bliss –

“I mentioned it Friday too.”

You sighed, turning to look at him. “Happy belated birthday, Seokjin. I hope you had a good day.”

He grinned. There it was, what he’d been after. He was such a kid. “Thanks. I did actually, I went –”

“Is Hoseok around?”

Your attention was stolen by the sound of someone’s voice – Namjoon’s voice, and you looked to the reception desk to see him stood beside it. You swooned a little at the sight of him; legs long enough to climb, a butt hard enough to crack walnuts with – chest too. Namjoon was the foreman of the warehouse on the ground floor. He was handsome, charming, and genuinely a nice person. You hadn’t seen him for a while, so you were definitely caught by surprise.

“Yeah, he’s in his office,” Mina replied with a smile, watching his ass as he turned and started walking away. You didn’t blame her.

“Hi, Y/N.” He gave you a dazzling smile as he noticed you, bypassing your boss’ office to make his way over.

“Hi, Joon.” You greeted, unable to stop smiling like an idiot. “How are you?”

“Busy, he shrugged. Leaning in, you felt your pulse begin to quicken. “You don’t go clubbing anymore? I haven’t seen you around.”

“Ana got pretty bored of it.”

That was a lie actually. One you’d thought of on the spot. It wasn’t that you disliked going out, although you did feel too old for it now – the hangovers just kept getting worse – but when you’d started meeting up with Namjoon and his friends in the summer you’d been on a little Quest for Fun. You blamed it on the breakup. Now that you were over it, and had been for quite some time, clubbing wasn’t near as appealing as it used to be. You much preferred staying in and sitting in front of the television.

“That shouldn’t stop you. I can always be your company if you’re lonely,” he smirked, that pesky dimple sending your heart a flutter. He always did this. Flirting came so natural to him, he was great at it.

You heard someone clearing their throat to the side of you. Namjoon and you both looked over at the same time. Oh, right… Seokjin was here. You’d actually forgotten about him.

“Hey, man,” Namjoon smiled politely. They didn’t know each other too well, but that didn’t stop Namjoon from being friendly. He looked down at your notebook. “What are you guys up to?”

The question was definitely directed to you but Seokjin answered anyway. “Organising the office Christmas party.”

“Ahhh.” Namjoon nodded, smirking your way, Seokjin once again forgotten. “Do I get an invite?”

You smiled, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you always?” He and the guys downstairs always popped up and joined in on the celebrations, but yes, okay, maybe you were flirting too… You couldn’t help it, not after what happened last –

“Namjoon?”

Hoseok’s voice interrupted your thoughts and you looked over Namjoon’s shoulder, seeing him stood in his doorway.

Namjoon sighed, taking a step backwards. “I gotta go, business calls, beautiful. See you around.” Turning his back to you he started to walk off, only to glance over his shoulder last minute, shooting you a wink. “Remember, if you’re ever feeling lonely…”

You giggled, giving him a wave and watched him follow Hoseok into his office.

“What was that?” Seokjin asked, sounding absolutely baffled.

“What was what?” You shot, now realising you’d turned to mush right in front of him.

“That,” he exclaimed. “You and Namjoon all over one another.” He paused to pull a face. “I’ve come all over all queasy.”

“Shut up,” you brushed off. “We weren’t.”

He looked at you as if you’d gone mad. “The looks! The winking. The way your voice went all high-pitched… Do you like him?”

“As a friend,” you stressed. Although, what was it to him?!

He stared at you. “So nothing’s going on between the two of you?”

“No.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t expect you to do anything,” you shook your head, laughing in confusion. “I don’t care if you believe me or not.”

Seokjin dropped it thankfully and you got back to your list, jotting down a few more things you needed. It was until Namjoon reappeared from Hoseok’s office and waved goodbye to you that Seokjin couldn’t contain himself any longer.

“What?” You demanded when you heard him scoff to himself.

“He definitely wants to fuck you.” He shook his head. “Trust me. I have a males sixth sense when it comes to that.”

You could feel yourself growing mad. That’s why you ultimately ended up spilling. As stupid as it was. “Maybe he already has…”

It took a moment for Seokjin to make sense of your words. “W-what?” You could physically see when the penny dropped, it was actually quite amusing. You liked making him speechless. “You and Namjoon already… When?!”

You shrugged, feeling mildly embarrassed. “It was during the summer.” You tried to think of more things you’d need for this party but your mind was now a blur and Seokjin wouldn’t let you anyway.

“You can’t just drop that and not give me details,” he cried.

“Keep your voice down,” you hissed. Nobody knew bar Ana. Who had been the with you the night you and Namjoon had hooked up. It wasn’t exactly a secret, but you didn’t want the whole office knowing your business.

Seokjin looked at you wide-eyed, patiently – or not so – waiting for you to explain yourself. You grumbled, not quite believing you were about to tell him, you didn’t want him knowing your business, but then again, it was a great feeling knowing that you’d shocked him. “I’d just… I’d just broken up with my boyfriend and I wanted to… let loose a little. It was just a one time thing.”

But it had been good – amazing, actually. A repeat had never shown itself, but you were happy enough for it to be a onetime thing.

“You have one night stands?” Seokjin asked, although you were sure it was rhetorical.

“It happened once.”

He wasn’t listening. “And here I was thinking you were a prude.”

“Like I said before, you don’t know me.”

Seokjin chuckled, amused by your attitude. It sent your insides a little jittery – but only for a split second – and it could’ve very well been annoyance. “So… How was it?”

“Excuse me?”

“How was the sex?”

“I’m not answering that,” you refused.

“Why not?” He looked puzzled. “What’s a bit of hook up talk amongst friends?”

“Friends?” You repeated with a chortle. “Good one.”

He ignored you. “Come on. I’ll tell you about the sex I had over the weekend. Birthday sex is always the best. One hook up story for another.”

You pulled a face, unsure why the idea of Seokjin getting in on was so unpleasant, but then he laughed. It was loud, and partly squeaky. Contagious too. You couldn’t help but join in. “Go away.” You whined, pushing at his shoulder. You were not going into detail, palming him off. “I can’t even remember it.”

“Ouch.” Seokjin sniggered. “Don’t tell him that. It seems like he thinks about it every goddamn night.”

Pfftt. You doubted that. “I mean, it was ages ago.”

“That shouldn’t matter, babe,” Seokjin tutted. “You never forget a good time.”

“Are you purposely trying to be an asshole?” If he called you babe one more time, you swore to God…

“I’m not trying.” He smirked, face falling as he realised that hadn’t been worded correctly. “…Wait.”

Okay then, he was just a natural asshole. Good to know.

Begrudgingly, you had to admit you and Seokjin made a pretty good team once you put aside your issues with one another. With the theme decided, it was easy enough to get everything in place. Jungkook took the “family” photos you needed of the staff and you went to get them professionally printed, shoving them in frames ready to place around the office in preparation. Seokjin found a lot of the decorations needed, which was actually very helpful of him. You were so impressed you even agreed to let him decorate the conference room all by himself when the time came. The office was already overflowing with tinsel, the Christmas tree up, but the conference room was always left for the day of the party, the last Friday before the company closed for Christmas.

Secret Santa had been organised too. Quite unfortunately you’d pulled out Seokjin’s name (see, you were cursed,) but you’d bought the first pair of cufflinks you’d found in the department store last week, so you didn’t have to worry about that for long. All that was left now was the buffet. And that’s how you found yourself sat in Seokjin’s kitchen on a Friday night, a week to go until D-Day…

There hadn’t been time to look over the restaurant’s menu in work hours, and you’d given up trying to organise things over Skype with him. The first and last time you’d tried that, Seokjin had added Jungkook into the call, both of them getting ready to game. It had been a mess to say the least, so the only other option was to meet up after work. Seokjin had been the first to invite you over, so here you were. It wasn’t as if you purposely didn’t want him to step foot inside your home. He wasn’t that bad.

His apartment wasn’t either… He lived with his best friend, an interior architect, which made a lot of sense once Seokjin told you. Unless you were confusing it for an interior designer, which you probably were – either way, this place was cool. And spotless. It smelt nice too. Always a plus.

You were halfway done picking through the menu when his phone started ringing. You noticed him hesitate, as if he wondering if he should pick up but ultimately decided to after a few rings.

“Hey mom,” he greeted, glancing over at you to mouth sorry.

You shook your head to tell him it was okay and pulled out your phone from your hoody pocket, taking the break to scroll through social media. A text pinged through from Ana, wondering what dress she should wear tomorrow night when you went out for drinks. Every year you went out just before Christmas, despite how much you complained. It was mandatory now, but undeniably Ana took it a lot more serious than you. You had no idea what you’d be wearing tomorrow and wouldn’t until an hour before the Uber came to get you.

“I know that, but I just can’t leave him,” Seokjin sighed beside you. You paused, having never heard him sound quite like that before. He sounded… serious for one. And frustrated. You replied to Ana quickly, trying your best not to overhear anymore – which was difficult. You were practically brushing shoulders at the kitchen table.

“I don’t think he wants to come. He said he doesn’t even want to celebrate this year.”

Again, you were doing a terrible job at this. Whatever this was about, you were beginning to feel rude listening in. But then again, if Seokjin didn’t want you to hear then surely he would’ve stepped into the living room. You were being a goddamn worrier.

“Okay, I’ll speak to you soon, bye. Love you.”

Love you? Seokjin told his mom he loved her? The revelation caught you off guard, forgetting that he was off the phone now and as you heard him clear his throat, shoving the device into his sweatpants pocket, you jumped, copying and slipping yours back inside your hoody.

“Sorry about that,” he apologised. “It was my mom.”

“It’s fine.” You reassured. He sounded a little dejected all of a sudden, a far cry from ten minutes ago when he’d been laughing over the word vol-au-vent. You hesitated, wondering if you should ask if everything was okay? You felt a little awkward, as if you were pushing boundaries, but surprisingly he told you himself without any prompting.

“She really wants me to come home for Christmas but I can’t leave Yoongi.” He definitely sounded exasperated now.

“Yoongi?” You repeated, a little lost.

Seokjin glanced at you, narrowing his eyes as if he was trying to guess if you were messing around or not. “My best friend…” He said slowly. “Y’know, the one I live with…”

“Oh.”

You fool. Now it looked like you hadn’t been listening to him. You had been, you really had, the name just slipped your mind momentarily. After only an hour… “Sorry,” you murmured.

He shrugged, carrying on. “I kinda owe him one.”

“How come?” The menu now laid forgotten.

Seokjin sighed. “It’s kind of a long story.” You waited to see if he’d care to explain, although of course he didn’t have to if he didn’t want to. “His girlfriend broke up with him about a month ago and he’s been pretty cut up ever since.”

He wanted to. You listened politely, aware this was the first time either of you’d had a conversation very much deemed as serious.

“I’m going to stay here with him because well,” he hesitated, glancing at you briefly. He seemed a little embarrassed but decided to continue. “He let me move in with him after my ex and I split up. He was there for me so it’s only fair that I’m there for him.” He finished with a rushed smile, reaching to rub the back of his neck bashfully.

The action was pretty endearing.

“Is that why you transferred?” You asked, aware the conversation was straying but you couldn’t help it. The surprise of finding out he’d moved here after the breakdown of his relationship was distracting to say the least. You’d always pegged Seokjin as a guy who’d never been in a serious relationship – judgemental, yes, but they were the type of vibes he gave out. Maybe you just couldn’t imagine him settled down and in love. He was such a free spirit, never serious enough – although, right now he was...

Possibly, you didn’t know him at all…

Seokjin nodded. “Yeah, I wanted a fresh start. Yoongi said this city was nice, so.”

There was a beat of silence and afraid it would become awkward you rushed to say something of worth. “Break ups are tough.”

God, that sounded a lot cheesier than you intended.

“They are,” he agreed. “Although... I don’t know how yours went – mine was okay, sad but mutual. We just didn’t love each other anymore. Yoongi’s on the other had… He got cheated on.”

“That sucks.” You empathised, before shrugging softly. “Mine was okay too. As break ups go.”

Were you bonding? Bonding with Seokjin? Ludicrous. However, what was even more unbelievable was how normal and comfortable it felt…

“How are you spending Christmas this year?” He asked, continuing to make conversation.

“Well, I usually visit my parents too but they’re going to be abroad this year so I’ll just spend it with my friend Ana’s family.” It was all planned, they lived super close by so at least this year would be easy.

He sniggered, eyes twinkling as opened his mouth to tease you. “Ditched by your own parents, embarrassing.”

“Hey,” you exclaimed, whacking his arm just before you burst into laughter.

He laughed along for a moment before growing semi-serious again. But just for a moment. “It’s actually going to be my first Christmas away from my family. It feels kind of weird but I can’t bring Yoongi along, he’ll bum out the atmosphere.”

You scoffed, voice filled with sarcasm. “You’re such a great friend, Seokjin.”

He chuckled, opening his mouth to reply, but just as he did you both heard the door in the entry way opening, footsteps sounding. You guessed Yoongi was back home. Not long after, a black haired man came into view and Seokjin moved, cool air filling the gap. You realised just how close you’d been sat together. When had that happened?

“Hey Yoongi,” Seokjin smiled. Yoongi raised a hand. “This is Y/N, my co-worker. You’ve heard me talk about her before, right?”

Huh? Whining about you, no doubt…

“Oh... yeah.” Yoongi’s eyes travelled to yours, a small smile upturning one corner of his mouth. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“Hey,” you returned his smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“How was work?” Seokjin asked. He sounded… concerned? That was sweet.

Yoongi shrugged. “Fine. Had an appointment with a client.” Silence. He was a man of very few words. You liked it. “I’m going to my room, have fun planning that Christmas party.”

Of course. That’s why Yoongi knew about you, Seokjin had told him about the party planning…

You waved him bye, and then, once you’d heard him make his way upstairs, Seokjin turned to you. “See? Bums out the atmosphere.”

“What atmosphere?” You joked. “No, but he seemed okay, considering…” Yes, his shoulders were a little slumped, as if he was carrying the whole world on them, but who knows, that could’ve been a thing before the breakup… He had sort of smiled at you…

“Yeah…” Seokjin agreed, before pausing and raising an eyebrow. “Maybe he liked what he saw. You could always do me a solid and try to cheer him up for me.”

You puzzled, unsure what he was getting at.

“You know, like Namjoon did for you…”

“SEOKJIN,” you yelled, jaw dropping in shock. “What the hell is wrong with you?” It wasn’t funny.

He squeaked a laugh. “I’m just messing around, don’t worry. I don’t want you to sleep with Yoongi. That would just be weird. Besides,” he added as an afterthought, smirking mischievously. “You’re too boring.”

He was trying to tease you again, wanting you to bite. Well, it wasn’t going to happen.

“I wouldn’t touch any of your friends,” you shot instead. “They’re tainted by default.”

Seokjin chuckled softly, shaking his head from side to side as he began to study the menu again.

“You ladies have a couple of admirers,” the waiter grinned as he placed two white wine spritzers on your table.

Ana squealed, taking one of the glasses immediately. “Where?”

You’d only been out barely an hour, already in your second bar, but even you had to admit the thought of someone buying you a drink was a little exciting. You followed the waiter’s hand to a booth across the floor, anticipation pumping through your veins only to be thoroughly disappointed when you recognised one of the faces – well, both faces actually, but you’d only been acquainted with the second yesterday…

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you groaned.

“What?” Ana asked mildly confused, waving off the waiter with a thanks. “What’s wrong? They are so hot!”

“That’s dick cheese and his friend!”

“Wha–The guy you work with?” Your best friend sounded flabbergasted. “Which one is dick cheese? Although I wouldn’t kick either out of bed…”

“Ana!” You hissed, taking another glance at the booth. Seokjin waved at you wildly, an obnoxious grin on his face. You grumbled. “He’s the one on the left.”

“Oh, fuck.” She waved back, much to your annoyance. “No wonder he gets you so angry.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You were confused. Enough to not realise when she stood up, making a beeline for their booth. “Wait–Ana! Where are you going?!”

She didn’t bother to look back as she replied. “I’m going to say thanks, duh.”

And that’s how you found yourself well on the way to Drunksville. You were only supposed to get tipsy tonight, knowing you’d pay for anything more in the morning, but well, you’d moved onto a club down the road and the drinks kept coming, and as much as you hated to admit it, hanging out with Seokjin and Yoongi was actually pretty enjoyable. Although, no matter how much fun you were having, it wasn’t enough to stay on the dancefloor for too long.

“Hey,” you greeted Yoongi, slipping inside and around the booth to slump down next to him. Dancing couldn’t have been his cup of tea either because he’d given up way before you had. Seokjin and Ana were still going strong out there.

You downed what was left of your drink, willing yourself to cool down as you huffed and puffed. God, you were drunk.

“Are you okay?” He chuckled.

You smiled. You liked Yoongi. He was nice, quiet – you liked quiet. “So, tell me,” you wondered, eager to understand something. “How’s a guy like you friends with Seokjin?”

Yoongi’s forehead creased. “What do you mean?”

Shrugging, you bit back a hiccup. “You seem normal, he’s…” What was Seokjin again? You could usually come up with a million and one (not so nice) words to describe him but the room was slightly spinning and your brain came up blank.

Yoongi understood you anyway, laughing as he replied. “He can just seem that way at first, it’s the nerves. They make him act up.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Nerves?” What did that mean? You could never imagine a nervous Seokjin. He was always so sure of himself.

Yoongi didn’t clarify. “Me and him are actually very similar. Annoying little shits when we want to be,” he laughed, before hesitating, “I’m…I’m a little injured right now, that’s why I seem a lot more subdued.”

“Oh,” you murmured, hoping you didn’t come off as condescending. “Yeah, Seokjin told me about your breakup. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“You seem a lot happier tonight though,” you offered. Happier than yesterday evening.

“It’s called alcohol,” he grinned, bringing his glass up to his lips. He paused. “Y’know, he’s pretty cool once you get to know him.” It took you a second to realise he was talking about Seokjin. “He’s a great person.”

You shrugged slightly. “He’s okay.” What did it matter what you thought anyway? Seokjin definitely didn’t care.

“He likes to joke around, I admit, but it seems to make you laugh, so.” Yoongi smirked slightly and tilted his head, taking a took a sip of his beer.

Taken aback, you tried to think. Had you been laughing with Seokjin all night? Maybe laughing at him was a better way to describe it…

“What are you guys talking about?”

You jumped when you heard a familiar loud voice and looked up to see Seokjin leaning over the table, four shots balanced between the fingers of both hands – two in each. His face was flushed, redder than you’d ever seen it – he’d obviously had enough of dancing too.

“Nothing,” Yoongi replied smoothly. He stood up, finishing his drink. “I’m uh, I’m going outside for some fresh air.”

“But I got us shots,” Seokjin complained.

Yoongi looked over at you and smiled before tapping Seokjin on the shoulder. “I’m sure you and Y/N will make good use of them.”

Hm… Everyone was drunk and acting weird. Not that you had time to contemplate it because immediately Yoongi had gone and Seokjin was taking his seat next to you. His cologne hit you. It was different to usual, you’d realised instantly earlier in the night.

“Where’s Ana?” You asked. They’d both been dancing together when you’d left them.

He shrugged as he handed you a shot. “I don’t know, lost her on the dancefloor.”

You hesitated. Should you have more to drink? The shots might push you over the edge. But… you were having fun. It was one night out, you might as well do it properly. So quickly you downed the shot, smirking Seokjin’s way as you picked up another. “I’ll have hers then.”

He grinned slowly before scoffing as you choked. That shit burned, and you might have been able to handle the first shot no problem but this time your eyes watered and your throat screamed.

“Seems like you’re trying to prove a point,” he laughed.

“What do you mean?” You demanded, already feeling more lightheaded.

He didn’t care to explain, instead doing his two shots straight after the other, able to handle them with just a wince. “What do you think of Yoongi?” He asked, barely giving the liquid time to slip down his throat.

“Huh?”

“Do you like him?”

You shrugged, confused as to why he was asking you. “He seems nice, yeah.”

“So, you like him?”

You froze. “Are you still trying to hook us up? I don’t like him like that.” You didn’t even know him.

“No, no,” Seokjin rushed. “I wasn’t trying to… never mind.” He shook his head, changing the subject. “So who did you get for Secret Santa?”

“I’m not telling you,” you huffed, pushing his shoulder.

“That means it’s me.”

“Seokjiiin,” you whined, leaning into him as you nudged him once more.

He laughed, looking a little surprised by your sudden affection – however unintentional. “I think you’re drunk.”

…Maybe those shots were a bad idea, you’d only get worse…

“Should we go and look for Yoongi and Ana?” Seokjin asked, checking his watch.

You’d been sat together for a while now, conversation coming surprisingly easy. It was nonsense mostly – you might or might not have helped Seokjin with some festive ideas to prank Jungkook with – but Ana hadn’t come back from the dancing yet, and Yoongi was still outside – unless he’d done a runner, which was highly probable according to Seokjin. So it was probably best you both went to look for your friends.

You followed closely behind Seokjin as you searched through the club and at one point he reached for your hand, helping you through a large group of people. His grip was warm and oddly gentle, but you didn’t have time to think about it too much as he’d already let go. He waited for you as you checked the restroom, but your best friend was nowhere to be found. It was probably the alcohol in your system but you started to get a little worried, especially when your text went ignored. Seokjin seemed to notice.

“Stay here, okay? I’m going to check outside. I don’t want you to freeze to death.” He told you, having to practically shout in your ear the music was so loud in this area.

You found yourself a little touched by his concern, no matter how small it was and listened, clutching your purse to your middle. You were in a black mini dress after all, your arms barely covered. You still had the perfect view of him though, able to watch him step out the building and look down the road. You noticed the concern on his features slowly turn into shock, his mouth dropping open, and you frowned. What the hell had he seen?

“Seokjin!” You called, which was pretty useless. He couldn’t hear a damn thing. You could barely hear yourself. You rushed forward. “Seokjin?” You pushed your way past some people who had clogged up the entry way and dashed down the stone steps. “What is it?”

The winter air hit you instantly. It was fucking freezing. Seokjin still looked in shock, glued to the spot and you grew frustrated, stopping right beside him. “What?” You demanded. “What’s going on?!”

You followed his line of vision, and immediately you were positive your expression matched his. A little down the road, up against the wall, Yoongi and Ana were wrapped around one another, attached at the mouth. You were speechless, the cold no longer a problem.

“Let’s not interrupt them,” Seokjin said suddenly, taking you by the hand once again to drag you back inside. (Your feet honestly wouldn’t work.)

The instant heat got your blood pumping again, although the music did nothing for your whirring head. “What did we just witness?” You turned to him and asked (shouted).

Seokjin still looked just as shocked, but he managed a joke, wrinkling his nose up. “Ew, what if our friends start dating? I’ll be stuck with you forever.”

“Grow up,” you rolled your eyes, before randomly taking in the sight of him. How wasn’t he melting to death? The guy was in a fuzzy Christmas sweater. Actually, an even more important question; how hadn’t he electrocuted himself? The reindeer on his chest lit up. If one drop of sweat got into that hidden battery pack he was done for, surely?

“I thought you’d be saving that jumper for Friday,” you commented (yelled), quite honestly in a daze. You were drunk, in absolute shock, toes frozen, and somehow you were stood with Seokjin making conversation about Christmas jumpers.

“Who says I don’t have a whole drawer full of the festive fuckers. I did say I loved Christmas, no?” He laughed.

You joined in. “I thought you were bullshitting.”

“Of course you did.” He said with a small smile, shaking his head a little.

“I can’t believe we caught them kissing.” You couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Seokjin wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “They’re probably doing more than that by now.”

“Shut up.” You whined. “Wait. Do you think he told her about the breakup?”

“What?” Seokjin asked you to repeat, leaning in slightly, unable to hear you properly above the music.

“Do you think she knows he’s on the rebound?”

Seokjin shrugged. “Maybe. Who cares.”

“I care!” You exclaimed causing him to wince because you’d accidentally shouted in his ear. “Ana’s my best friend!”

Seokjin rolled his eyes slightly. “I thought you of all people would know people can just fuck with no strings attached.”

“Will you ever drop that,” you deadpanned. Your hook up with Namjoon happened so long ago now, you barely even thought about it unless you saw him at work, which was pretty rare anyway.

“Nope.” The way the sound of the p popped off his lips annoyed you.

“What about you?” You asked, changing the subject from you. “No getting lucky tonight? Is Christmas sex not on par with birthday sex?”

He burst out laughing. “I’d say it is, yeah, but I still have a couple of weeks to make it happen, so ask me then.”

His answer almost annoyed you more and you couldn’t place why. He was just being stupid, classic old Seokjin. You should be used to it by now.

“Come on,” he winked, stepping forward, towards the middle of the club and his hand cupped your elbow. “Let’s dance!”

“No, no, no,” you immediately refused, grabbing his hand to stop him.

“Pleaseee,” he pleaded, eyes wide. “I want to dance with you. You’ve hardly been on the floor all night.”

Oh. Your heart did a little flip inside your chest. Maybe it was the tequila making its way back up your body…

“Come on,” he chuckled, not giving up. “It’ll warm you up.” On cue both of his hands lifted and he started rubbing your shoulders. “I told you not to come outside. Now we both have the mental image of Yoongi sucking face stuck behind our eyelids and you’ve got frost bite.”

You giggled, but still wouldn’t relent. He could stay here warming you up for the rest of the night if he wanted… Dancing made you sweaty.

He tilted his head, giving you a look. “Y/N, do you want me to call you boring again?”

And just like that you wanted to prove him wrong… You were a sucker. He knew what he was doing.

Only, the second round of shots for some Dutch courage were probably a bad idea. Your idea, but a very bad one, nevertheless. The dancefloor seemed to be stickier than it was an hour ago – and busier. It was packed and loud, which worked to distract you from how drunk you were.

Seokjin could move. You hadn’t realised earlier, not really paying attention as you’d danced with Ana instead, but with just the two of you left you let him embarrass the hell out of you on the floor. At first it was definitely on purpose; he pulled the largest, wackiest moves that you begged him to stop, but soon enough he had you dying of laughter, so he continued, your amusement spurring him on. And then drunk you had to join in…

“You know what? You’re actually pretty fun once you loosen up,” Seokjin yelled above the music, his hands somehow having found their way to your hips as you both snaked them to the beat.

“I’m always fun,” you informed him, your breath fanning across his face as you lifted your arms in the air. “You just only know work me.”

He smiled. “Well, I don’t know, I think I’m getting to know normal you lately…”

You snorted some type of noise. “That’s what you think!”

He went to open his mouth to argue but you spun around, your back pressed to him as you continued to sway. Your skin was hot to the touch, too many bodies cramped in this small space, but you loved the feeling of Seokjin’s hands on your hips, even more so when they slowly inched up your waist. You flung your arms back, looping them around his neck to pull him closer. It had been a long time since you’d danced with a guy like this. Not even Namjoon. Not even your ex.

You could feel how boiling he was too, a thin layer of sweat coating the back of his neck, and as you ran your fingers through his slightly wavy hair he let out a little groan. It was extremely quiet, would’ve gone unnoticed if his mouth wasn’t hovering by your ear, but now you’d heard it and it changed everything. Something exploded inside your chest, fresh heat prickling your skin and you found yourself pushing into him further, grinding in a small circle.

The dancefloor was full of couples like this so no one took any notice. But Seokjin did. He froze, as if he was sure he’d imagined it, so ever so carefully you did it again. This time he knew his drunk mind wasn’t playing tricks on him and after a slight hesitation his hands slid to your hips again, gripping them tighter. He let you grind against him, but didn’t reciprocate, he just kept dancing to the music, which seemed to turn you even braver.

With the bass of the music pumping through your body you moved back and forth against his crotch, hearing his breath get shallower and shallower. It was addictive and you were chasing the feeling before you knew it, bold and finding yourself getting more turned on by the second. It wasn’t long before you began to feel him grow hard against your ass, and even though surprised, you still carried on, loving it.

“Y/N,” he murmured against your ear, sounding out of breath. You circled your hips again. This time he couldn’t help but push back. “It’s getting late.” His voice faltered. “You’re drunk. I’m drunk.”

You frowned to yourself. What was he trying to say? You felt his hands leave your hips, reaching for your arms around his neck to slide them away. He was trying to get you to face him. He was still half hard in his pants but he ignored it.

“You’re drunk,” he repeated, as if it was some sort of answer, some sort of reason. He started to twist you his way but you tripped, falling into him. “Definitely drunk,” he chuckled, tugging his hands off your waist from where he’d caught you. “It’s time to go home.”

“I don’t want to go home,” you pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck. You went to push your body into him but he angled away from you, creating distance.

“You need to go home,” he laughed. It sounded awkward. “Think of that hangover tomorrow.”

“I will,” you shrugged, “tomorrow.”

Seokjin stared at you, his brown eyes wavering slightly. They were darker than usual, swimming with something that made your belly flip, but he steeled himself, holding strong. “Come on,” he pressed. “We can share an Uber.”

“It’s fine.” You muttered, disappointed for some reason. You were unsure how he could hear you above the music, but he did. “I’ll find Ana.”

He chuckled. “Ana’s definitely gone by now. Don’t you remember what we caught her doing?”

Oh.

He was right.

Damn your best friend.

You didn’t remember much of the Uber ride home, the sudden departure from the club had brought deafening silence and you were now very aware of how much your head was spinning. Your bed was calling you – your warm, cosy, king sized bed… However, you took one look at Seokjin as he helped you out of the car and all that became forgotten.

You clung to his jumper, voice still loud despite there being no music now. “Do you want to come in?”

“Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” He replied carefully, chuckling. “Sober you definitely doesn’t want me in your apartment.”

You reached forward, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes and giving him what you hoped was your best smile. “Drunk me does.”

He held your stare for a moment, searching long enough to see something that made him make up his mind. “Fine,” he sighed lightly, bending down into the car to talk to the driver. You were barely listening, looking up at the stars, but Seokjin held your hand tightly, keeping your heels rooted to the ground.

“Keep this thing running, I’ll be back in five.”

“That’s gonna cost you, my friend.”

“It’s fine.” Another sigh. “Just– stay? I won’t be long.”

It took you a couple of minutes to get through your door, Seokjin had to open it in the end, and he followed you in, a respectable distance behind you. He closed the door quietly, smiling when you turned back to look at him as you kicked off your shoes.

“Okay, you’re home safe now. I’m just going to go, see you Monday, okay?”

“No, don’t go,” you bemoaned, closing the distance to cling to him once again. In your drunken state you couldn’t place why you wanted him to stay so bad. All you knew was that you did.

He sighed again, lifting his hands to clasp over your wrists in an attempt to move you away. He looked and sounded torn. “Y/N, the Uber’s running. I’m going to end up paying double to get home.”

You shrugged. “Tell him to leave then.”

He closed his eyes and exhaled, it sounded like a whimper. “What are you doing to me?” He murmured, but you were barely paying attention, swaying where you stood. He noticed and groaned. “You’re so drunk!”

“Am not.”

He laughed, genuinely amused, and if your drunk mind didn’t know any better it sounded as if he was endeared by you. He shook your shoulders lightly. “Look at me.” You couldn’t quite focus. He cupped your face instead, laughing louder as he angled you to stare straight into his eyes. “Look at me. You are so out of it.”

You just grumbled, but warmth fluttered through your body. It felt good to be touched by him. You thought back to the dancefloor, the way you’d been pressed up against his body. Your mouth parted, suddenly thirsty. Really thirsty. But for what?

“Can you even make out my face?” Seokjin asked, continuing to be amused.

“Of course,” you snapped, fingers reaching for him. “There’s your hair,” – You ran your fingers through the dark brown locks – “your eyes... nose…” He let you poke his eyelids gently and then you bopped his nose.

“Get offf.” He snorted softly.

And then your attention fell to his mouth. Those plump, deep pink lips that were opened and slightly wet from where he’d been swiping his tongue across them. You swallowed, hands cupping his jaw. “Your lips –”

You dove before you knew what you were really doing, pressing your mouth to his, taking him by surprise. Not a second later he was pulling back, holding you at arm’s length. “Woah, woah.” He chuckled in surprise, but his voice wavered. “Not the time, Y/N. Trust me.”

You frowned, annoyance spiking and you shook him off. “What? So you’ve suddenly turned chivalrous now?” Scoffing, you felt like an idiot – upset and embarrassed, you spoke without thinking. “Or do you just not want me?”

Something flashed across Seokjin’s face. He looked irritated. Sounded it too when he replied. “Of course I fucking want you.” You froze. Huh? However, you didn’t have time to think about what he’d said before he was striding towards you, backing you up against the wall. You gripped the tops of his arms on instinct, looking up at him as he loomed over you, hair falling into his dark eyes. They were the same colour as they had been back at the club – when you’d been grinding all over him. Your breath caught.

“Ever wondered why you frustrate me so much?” He rasped.

Something inside you screamed. Not that you had time to realise because immediately his mouth was on yours. Each press of his lips was rushed, as if he was acting on instinct and all you could do was cling to him and try to keep up. You let out a moan when you felt his tongue attempt to push past the seam of your lips and you let him in, moaning louder when the wet muscles clashed together, the dam now broken.

It was contagious. Seokjin grunted against you, throatier than you were expecting, noises so unlike him your whole body burned in desire. Actually, it was on fire. It started to crave him, the feeling so strong all you could do was let it take you. You yelped when his hands curled around your ass, giving you one strong push and you promptly jumped into his arms. He caught you effortlessly and you wrapped your legs around him.

By God, he was strong. He crashed you into the wall, mouth still hungry as he ground his crotch into yours. The skirt of your dress had ridden up to your waist, your underwear the only thing protecting you as he rubbed you against his dick. Which was hard again – very hard. Maybe he’d had a semi the whole car ride home, which was a thought that got you moaning louder inside his mouth, your tongues getting messy, your teeth clashing.

“Seok-jin,” you whimpered. Your core tingled, hot to the touch and you could feel your arousal beginning to pool against the lace of your thong. You wanted him – no, you needed him. “Pleaseee. Please.”

He grunted, your begging fucking with his head and you felt his arms give way. He stumbled forward, no other option but to ease you down to the floor, but his mouth didn’t relent; he kissed you just as needy as before, sliding down your chin to make his way to your throat.

You gasped at the new sensation, his tongue licking strips up your skin, his teeth nipping. Your legs shook under you, nothing to do with the alcohol you’d consumed, it was all him. He was driving you wild, and you needed him to fuck you. You knew that much.

Your hand reached between your bodies, loving the sound of Seokjin heavy breathing against your ear as he now sucked on your lobe, and you wrapped your palm around his clothed cock. He was solid. Rock hard.. It had to be painful, surely? You got to work, rubbing him back and forth in an attempt to relieve some of his discomfort.

“Fuck,” he muttered, and you jutted your hips into him too, mistaking the cursing for his enjoyment. “Y/N, wait,” he said, pulling back and stopping the movements of your hand, his long fingers circling your wrist. You tried reaching for his mouth again, still oblivious to his sudden change in demeaner.

“Not like this,” he murmured, trying his best not to kiss you back, no matter how hard you pecked his mouth.

“Why?” You asked, giving up. Your lips were wet and swollen. They prickled. God, you were so turned on your voice shook. His too.

“Do you even know what you’re doing right now?” He sounded uncertain, looking you in the eyes as he chuckled bitterly. “You hate my guts. You don’t want my dick.”

You frowned. What was he talking about? You’d been practically dry humping him. Of course you wanted his dick. “I do,” you insisted, leaning into him to tug at his belt. He didn’t give in. “Seokjin, just give me your dick.”

He stared down at you, his hand still clutching your wrist, breathing still ragged, his eyes still black… but despite how much he obviously wanted this, he composed himself, his expression softening. You felt him reach behind you and gently pull your dress down over your ass.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay?” He hummed softly, voice still visibly affected by you. “When you’re sober. When we’re both sober…”

You awoke suddenly, peaceful and serene for all of two seconds before you groaned, burrowing your face into your pillow. It felt as if someone was stomping on top of your head. What the hell happened last night? Wait… How had you even gotten home? Why couldn’t you remember anything?!

You blindly reached for your nightstand, praying your cell phone was there, fingers stretched as far as they would allow until you felt the familiar belonging. You grabbed it and burrowed further under the covers. You needed to call Ana. She’d fill you in – make you remember.

Wait –

At the thought of your best friend you suddenly remembered a few things. Seokjin and Yoongi had been at the club too. They’d bought you drinks, you’d sat at their table, drunk more. Tequila must have been involved for you to be this clueless. Enough of it and you could forget your own name come morning. You’d always been the same since college. Squinting at the brightness of the screen, your head throbbing even harder if that was possible, you started to call Ana. It rang and rang… Frustrated you gave up. She could sleep through the end of the world so why were you surprised. You hoped she woke up with the world’s largest and longest hangover, serves her right for not – Oh. OH.

You shot up, in immediate regret when the entirety of your head spasmed. Groaning you tried to fight through the pain, wishing you had some calm so you could actually piece together your memories. Ana and Yoongi. Outside. All over one another. Making out against the wall.

What. The. Fuck.

No wonder why she wasn’t picking up.

The memories were hazy, but it was something. You continued to wrack your brain… You and Seokjin had found them, but they hadn’t been aware and then you’d gone back inside. He asked you to dance and that’s when you’d suggested more shot… Shots. Tequila shots. You were an idiot. Try as you might you couldn’t remember anything after that. It was all one big blur. How had you gotten from the club to your apartment?

You moved to sit on the side of your bed, soles of your feet pressing into the carpet. Your stomach churned a little. No, you couldn’t be sick. You hated being sick. Rubbing your stomach in an attempt to soothe it you looked down and realised you were still wearing your dress. Gross. You’d gotten into bed with your clothes on? You groaned weakly. You better have washed your hands before knocking out… although, you highly doubted it.

Looking at your phone again, you knew there was only one thing you could do. If you wanted answers you needed to ask the right person…

(10:34am) You: How the hell did I get home last night?

No more than a minute later three dots appeared on the screen, signalling Seokjin’s reply. But he was taking his time with it. Jesus. They kept disappearing for a few moments just to pop up again. Why was it such a hard question?!

(10:37am) Seokjin: You can’t remember?

Really? Three minutes to type three words?

(10:37am) You: Obviously not I wouldn’t be asking you otherwise (10:38am) You: We saw Ana and Yoongi kissing... We had shots... We danced

You talked him through what you did recall, and once again, he played that irritating game with those three dots. You knew he wasn’t typing up an essay.

(10:41am) Seokjin: And then I took you home

You raised both your eyebrows. He took you home? Why did that surprise you so much?

(10:41am) You: Thanks (10:42am) Seokjin: How’s your head? (10:43am) You: Hurts (10:43am) You: Everything hurts (10:43am) Seokjin: 🤣

Rolling your eyes, you threw your phone on the bed and managed to stand up. You were done talking to him of he was just going to laugh at your misery. Besides, he’d told you all you needed to know. The mystery was solved. Next, you needed to shower.

Immediately.

You were still feeling extremely fragile the next morning but managed to get into the office at 9am sharp with the help of coffee. You’d spent the night on the phone to Ana, getting all the nitty gritty details about her hook up with Yoongi. Apparently, they’d bumped into each other outside after she’d slipped out for some fresh air and had gotten talking. He’d told her about his recent breakup, and having been cheated on before, naturally Ana and he had bonded, and said bonding had led to kissing. Lots of it. Which had then led to lots of sex back at her apartment. (Yes, he did know how to use his dick if anyone was curious, and yes, it was very pretty.)

You’d expected to hear about it from Seokjin this morning but he was actually uncharacteristically quiet. Although, it might have been because he was partially blindsided when he got into the office. First, he was late, which had never happened before. No matter what you thought of Seokjin, he was always punctual and professional (when it was called for). And second, there was a surprise waiting for him.

Jungkook had draped his entire desk and chair in strings of fairy lights. Everything was lit up. It was a lot, but even you had to admit it was funny, and you hated their pranking war with a burning passion. Mainly because you were always caught in the middle. Seokjin however, seemed a little out of it. You mean, he still laughed, tried to wrestle Jungkook in the middle of Hoseok’s good morning greeting, but something about him seemed off. You couldn’t put a finger on it, it was almost like he was forcing it.

He hardly looked at you when you asked him what he had planned for payback. Shrugging his shoulders as he rolled his chair out and slumped in it – lights still twinkling. “Who knows.”

“I thought you had a bunch of ideas up your sleeve?” You’d spent a good half an hour discussing them Saturday night.

That got his attention. He raised an eyebrow as he stared at you. “You remember that? I thought everything was a blur?”

“Yeah, anything after we caught our best friends getting freaky on the streets.” You chuckled, feeling a little uneasy by the way he was still looking at you, as if he was suspicious of something.

After a moment he gave up…Possibly? Upturning his shoulder he gave you a small smile. “Lightweight.” He didn’t meet your eyes though and leaned over to start pulling at a string of lights that laid between your desks.

You reached over on instinct, placing your hand over his to stop him. He recoiled a little and you pulled back. What was that reaction for? “Keep them up,” you told him, choosing to ignore whatever had just happened. “It’s Christmas after all.”

You dropped your hand under the desk, it tingled a little. Seokjin’s hand had felt warm, familiar? The inklings of something floated around the sides of your brain but you couldn’t place your finger on it.

“Just don’t blow us up,” you joked.

Wait. Seokjin’s stupid Christmas jumper from Saturday night. You remembered now. It had lit up and you’d wondered how he hadn’t set himself on fire yet. That was it. What was trying to seep into your brain just now. Hopefully things were coming back to you slowly… You’d remember everything in no time, you were sure of it.

Meanwhile Seokjin nodded slowly, retreating his hand as he smiled at you slightly.

Was he feeling okay? You thought about asking him. Maybe his mom was still taking it bad that he wouldn’t make Christmas this year? You opened your mouth, full intentions to check in on him, but stopped yourself. It wasn’t really your place. You didn’t know his personal life all too well. You mean, yeah, he’d told you some things lately, but you didn’t want to overstep the mark. He was probably just having a bad day. Everyone had them.

However, you had to admit there was something quite unnerving about seeing him so downcast. It didn’t suit him.

What on earth could have happened?

The last week of work flew by. It was always the same, the office in a rush to finish up all loose ends before the two week holiday. You and Seokjin had one last meeting on Wednesday morning, just to check in and make sure everything was ready for Friday. The buffet was getting delivered the morning of and that’s when Seokjin was going to decorate the conference room. You’d been in charge of the Christmas playlist but he didn’t seem to have much interest when you’d shown him your choices. In fact, he was still acting a little strange.

He was quiet, not his usual self, as in, he wasn’t constantly finding ways to annoy you. In fact, you barely spoke unless you had to, which before this Christmas party would’ve been great – the norm actually. However now, things were different. Had you done something to upset him? You couldn’t think what. Maybe you’d offended him when you were drunk and couldn’t remember? You thought about asking him but couldn’t find the nerve. Besides, Seokjin didn’t seem the type to get offended by trivial things. You and he tended to be at one another’s throats most (all) of the time, but it was all done in jest. You didn’t despise him, he just got on your nerves – like you got on his. You couldn’t imagine yourself saying anything terrible to him, especially because from what you could remember of that night, you’d both had fun… Hanging out with Seokjin wasn’t too bad, drunk or sober.

So, things continued to remain a mystery, until that was, the next day…

“Here, I got you something.”

You looked away from your computer at the sound of Seokjin’s voice, finding him stood above you, his winter coat nearly buttoned all the way up. It was just after lunch on Thursday but Seokjin and Hoseok had to head off for an emergency meeting with a client who wanted to discuss something before Christmas.

Your forehead furrowed when you saw he was holding out a small glittery gift bag and when you took too long to take it he shook it. You reacted, taking it from him but still questioning him with your eyes. “Seokjin, Secret Santa is tomorrow.”

“No, it’s not for that,” he informed you, his voice oddly quiet. Now you were even more confused. Why had he gotten you a gift? You felt oddly embarrassed as you played with the ribbon handles nervously.

“I got Beryl,” he grumbled, easily making you ease up and chuckle. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what he’d purchased a sixty year old grandma… A bar of soap probably.

As if you couldn’t stop it, your fingers were opening up the gift. Seokjin noticed and started babbling immediately. “I saw it when I was out shopping for decorations and it made me think of you… I hope you like it. Sorry if you don’t.”

You awed as you pulled out a small Christmas bauble, green and gold in colour with the painting of a black cat in the centre, complete with a Christmas hat between its ears. It was beautiful and quirky – and totally unexpected. You’d gotten him a damn pair of lame ass cufflinks.

“You can hang it on your tree at home or something,” you heard him suggest.

You looked up at him, still a little speechless but you managed to get something out. “Thank you, Seokjin. I love it.”

His face lit up at that. The first time you’d seen him genuinely smile all week. “You do?”

You nodded, finding yourself unable to otherwise reply. Your heart felt a little funny. It was good to see him a cheerful, you’d missed it. He always looked good when he smiled…

He was looking at you, and you didn’t know whether you’d been staring first, but he was watching you carefully now, gaze slightly intense, as if he was trying to work something out, to find something. You dropped your chin, feeling embarrassed, cheeks hot. Why did you feel so strange? You were making it obvious.

“You really don’t remember Saturday night?” He spoke suddenly, tone soft, careful.

You froze. Straitening to look at him again you shook your head. “Nope.” You forced out a laugh. “It’s still a total blank. Can you believe it? Tequila is my mortal enemy.”

One side of Seokjin’s mouth raised into a half smile, but he didn’t look too amused. You felt something trickle down your spine – a bad feeling. “Seokjin?” You questioned, finding courage. “Why? What happened?” You needed to know.

“Hm?” He hummed, lost in thought. His face was serious once again.

“What happened Saturday night?”

He shook his head, squeezing out a small chuckle. It had fake written all over it. “Nothing.”

“Something must’ve happened,” you insisted, growing a little frustrated. Whatever it was had something to do with his odd behaviour.

He shrugged, hands in his pockets. His cheeks were growing flushed but that just annoyed you. “It’s nothing. You were just wasted.”

“Tell me now!” You hissed, careful to keep your voice down. The office was pretty empty at the moment, some still in the staffroom, others busy around the building, but you still didn’t want anyone overhearing something personal.

“No.” He refused. He looked stressed out.

“Seokjin!” He was stressing you out now. What the hell had you done that night?!

“I don’t want to.”

“Why?” You practically wailed.

“It’s embarrassing.”

“What happened?” You were losing it now, thinking the worst. “What did I do?”

He sighed loudly, finally giving in. “You kissed me.”

Silence.

The colour drained from your face at his revelation, dread instantly filling you. What? You hadn’t been expecting that. Whatever your mind had thought up, it definitely wasn’t that.

“We kissed, okay?” He continued. “I took you home, you practically begged me to come inside and we kissed.”

“Oh, my god,” you replied weakly, head now in your hands. You took a deep breath, trying to wrack your brains for any memories. How could you have forgotten such a major thing?! You invited Seokjin into your apartment? You kissed him? No wonder he’d been acting so strange this past week. You’d put him in such an awkward position. He was embarrassed and now so were you…

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin apologised, down to a whisper. “I should’ve told you but I just didn’t know how. I wasn’t expecting you to forget everything and I didn’t know how to –” He stopped himself with a groan, going around in circles.

Meanwhile, things were coming back to you. Not memories as such, more like hazy images and the faintest of sensations. His words had dislodged something. Dancing together, his hands on your body, his breath on your neck. The uber ride home. Stood in your entry way. Your hands on his arms. The feeling of his body pressed into yours. Your mouths attached and hungry. You felt yourself burn, unclear recollections stirring something hidden inside of you.

“…Y/N?” Seokjin prompted. You managed to look at him but that was it. You mouth wouldn’t work, and what could you say anyway? How could you explain yourself when you couldn’t remember all the details?

“It’s fine.” He told you suddenly, thinking he was reassuring you. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“Seokjin, you ready?”

You both startled at the sound of Hoseok’s voice and looked up to see him stood in his office doorway, buttoning up his coat.

Seokjin nodded, a little dazed. “Uh, yeah, coming. Won’t be a minute.”

“Last minute party planning, huh?” Hoseok grinned. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

“Look, I gotta go,” Seokjin told you once Hoseok had strolled off. “You’ll probably be gone by the time I get back, so I’ll see you tomorrow.” He spoke in a rush, not giving you time to respond. Your mouth opened, but he cut in. “It’s fine, Y/N. Trust me.”

And then he was gone.

You looked down at the Christmas bauble on your desk, so mortified you felt like crying.

Crying might have been a tad dramatic, you admit. So you didn’t. You were a mixture of embarrassed and confused, unable to concentrate properly the rest of the afternoon. How had you kissed Seokjin and just forgotten about it? It was scary to think something like that could happen, a blind spot in your memory. His revelation had helped you remember some bits but there was nothing concrete. You spent your evening forcing yourself to recall more details, talking things over with Ana on the phone. You couldn’t not tell her. Not when you were in the middle of having a mini breakdown.

She was interested in a lot more than just remembering the kiss though…

“So if you remember him kissing you back what does that mean?” She demanded.

You groaned. “I don’t even know if I’m remembering it correctly.” But why would your mind play tricks on you? Although, false memories were a thing…

“Of course you are! Dick cheese likes you. It’s obvious! Classic high school bullshit.”

“Ana, please,” you sighed. Now wasn’t the time for her theories. “He was drunk too,” you reasoned. “Just because we kissed doesn’t mean he likes me. I don’t like him, do I?” Yet, you’d grinded all over him on the dancefloor. (The memories of that were now clearer, and they made your cheeks burn…)

“Hmm.” She didn’t sound too convinced.

“Ana, come on!” You cried. “It was a stupid mistake, and now I’ve just made things super awkward between us.”

No wonder Seokjin had been acting weird all week, and there you’d been completely oblivious! The thought was enough to make you groan out loud. How could you go to work tomorrow? Host a party with him when things were so awkward?!

“I mean… You two need to talk about it properly. Make sure there’s no crossed wires. If you’re both on the same page then there’s no need for things to be awkward between you.”

You rolled your eyes. She made it seem so easy. She wasn’t the one who’d made out with her co-worker. She never had to see her hook up ever again. While you had to look yours in the eye five days a week for the rest of your life quite possibly.

“You guys didn’t even hook up,” Ana screeched when you told her just that. “A slight fumble in your hallway isn’t exactly something you need to relocate for. Just talk to him.”

Simple, right?

But nothing ever was...

“Let’s just forget about it,” Seokjin smiled your way as you both helped carry in the buffet food the next morning. He was holding the building’s door open for you with his back, letting you slip in first as you cradled the cardboard box filled with things you couldn’t even remember ordering. Too preoccupied with trying to bring up yesterday.

You paused, not expecting him to shrug it off like that. In fact, it got you pretty speechless. Were you hurt? As much as Ana’s idea had made you want the earth to open up and swallow you, it made sense to talk things out with him.

This morning you’d remembered even more while you’d brushed your teeth… Seokjin helping you slip the skirt of your dress down, finding your kitchen to get you some water… You were slowly piecing things together and it was confusing the hell out of you… You wished more than anything you could remember the whole thing. To know what was going on inside your head at the time, because right now you were a mess.

But hearing Seokjin sound so flippant, so unfazed made you a little deflated… What if you didn’t want to forget about it?

“I mean, you did already, so,” he gave a shrug and you followed him into the elevator in a daze.

“Oh, yeah, okay,” you forced yourself to say, hitting the third floor button. You turned to look at him and plastered a smile onto your face. It hurt. “Good idea.”

“Where is he?” Jungkook whined like a big kid. (The Christmas jumper he was wearing with a giant teddy bear in the centre didn’t help things…) “He knows I’m starving. Been saving myself all day for this.”

You raised a judgemental eyebrow. “You didn’t even have breakfast?”

He looked at you, shooting you a quick wink. “I’m treating this buffet like it deserves to be treated. Like it’s my one and only.” At his side, Mina giggled.

“Let’s just open up,” Hoseok suggested, reaching for the handle of the conference door.

“No!” You exclaimed, standing in front of it.

You were all waiting around like a bunch of lemons, Seokjin having done a disappearing act just before the party was due to start. Jungkook had already tried to call him three times but his phone was engaged. Everyone was getting impatient, but he needed to be here to see everyone’s reactions to his decorating. He’d been in there all morning, blinds closed, not even you knew what it looked like in there.

“Y/N, come on,” Jungkook cried dramatically. “He won’t mind, let’s just get in there!”

“Fine,” you gave in, turning around to open up. You didn’t really have a choice, everyone was gearing up to trample you…

One look inside had you a little speechless. It was beautiful, the room decorated like Santa’s Grotto. Seokjin had done an amazing job, and you felt bad for ever doubting his skill. For ever doubting his sincerity when it came to planning this entire party…

“Oh, whoa,” Jungkook gasped behind you, sounding wholly surprised. “Jin did so well on the decorations.” You turned back to agree but saw him smirking. “You must be pissed.”

“Shut up,” you scoffed and immediately swatted his hand away from a tray of sandwiches. “No! You have to wait!”

Jungkook made a noise of agony, practically flaking out in one of the chairs. “I’m this close to passing out!”

You sighed at his dramatics. “I’ll go and look for him.” He can’t have gone far, surely? You pointed at everyone as you stepped out, expression stern. “No starting this party until I find him – and no eating food.”

Jungkook whimpered.

As you walked out of the office and down one flight of stairs you started to grow worried. What if something was wrong? Maybe there’d been an emergency and he’d had to leave…? Only, those thoughts didn’t have a chance to go too far as you spotted him almost immediately a little down the hallway. The second floor was unoccupied, most of the rooms either used for storage or ominously locked. He was stood with a shoulder against the wall, his back to you. The Santa’s hat he’d been wearing earlier was shoved into his back pocket. You’d caught him just in time, he was finishing up a phone call before staring at the screen, deep in thought it seemed.

You suddenly felt nervous… You hadn’t been alone together at all since this morning and you’d been slightly miserable ever since then. Ever since he’d shut down the conversation you so badly wanted. You caught him staring your way a few times, when he was coming in and out of the conference room mid decorating – or maybe he was catching you staring. Who knew anymore. Your head was a mess, confused and unexplainably disappointed.

But you needed to suck it up. There was a Christmas party to pull off, and it needed both its hosts…

“Seokjin?” You called, walking closer.

He turned around with a start, shoving his phone into his jeans pocket. “Oh, hey.”

You took a moment to admire his Christmas jumper – a dabbing Santa Claus, which was pretty 2016 now, but whatever. You were wearing one similar to the bauble he’d gifted you yesterday, a cat wearing a Christmas hat, but you’d paired it with a Mrs. Claus skirt you wore every year without fail. Oh. You suddenly remembered something. Seokjin telling you he had a whole drawer full of Christmas sweaters. The thought should’ve made you laugh but you were still so nervous. You heart felt a little funny as you stared up at him.

One thing was for certain, you didn’t think you could forget about the kiss.

Could you excuse yourself to run away and call Ana? But then there’d be zero hosts at the party and Jungkook would disintegrate from hunger… You needed to power on.

“Everyone’s wondering where you went,” you said, voice sounding strange as you spoke into the unsettling silence.

You really didn’t want things to be awkward. You would hate it so much. You understood you didn’t have the best of relationships, but it worked for you both. Now it could all be ruined, and you didn’t want that. You didn’t know what you wanted…

Seokjin hesitated before tapping his pocket. “Sorry, phone call. Some type of insurance sales shit.”

You nodded, unsure why you didn’t quite believe him, but chose to ignore it, giving him a short smile. “We should hurry up. Jungkook is salivating in there. He’s two seconds away from devouring the whole buffet.”

Seokjin chuckled lightly at that. “Expected. He’s been fasting since 7pm last night.”

Why didn’t that surprise you?

“He’s already forced his way inside. Sorry. I tried to hold them off for as long as possible.”

“That’s my own fault.” He shrugged, then gave you a gentle smile. “Thanks for trying.”

Your heart did a little flip. You tried to ignore it. “You did a great job on decorating by the way.”

“You sound surprised,” he teased. “How many times do I have to say I lo–

“You love Christmas, yes, okay, I believe you now.” You interrupted with a laugh. You remembered that from Saturday night, but you wanted to remember all of it.

You opened your mouth, you needed to tell him. You needed to tell him you didn’t want to forget. “Seokjin,” you began, unsure how to continue. You didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. However it seemed he had things to say himself…

“I lied.”

Huh?

His admission caught you off guard. He could probably tell by your face. He lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his neck, looking awkward. “I lied about the phone call. It was Yoongi. He was giving me a pep talk.”

“A pep talk?” You repeated, now aware you could hear your own heartbeat.

He took a step forward and let out a deep breath, gearing himself up. “I can’t stop thinking about last weekend, Y/N.” Your heart was thudding now. “I know I said we should forget about it but I can’t. You don’t remember it and I know you regret it and I’m sorry for,” he stopped to sigh in frustration. “I don’t know, I just feel really guilty. Because I really enjoyed kissing you.”

He was staring straight into your eyes, no more than a foot between you. He looked nervous and remorseful. You didn’t like it.

Firm, you held his gaze. “I don’t regret it.” That thought had never crossed your mind. Even through all the shock and mortification. Yes, your memories were extremely vague, but you didn’t regret the kiss. If anything you were curious. Even more curious now.

Seokjin paused, not expecting your reply, but he sounded hopeful. “You don’t?”

You shook your head. “I was embarrassed when you told me, yes, but that was because I thought I’d made a fool of myself – I mean, I still did, but if you enjoyed kissing me I guess it was worth it.”

Seokjin had enjoyed kissing you, and from your foggy memories, you’d enjoyed kissing him too. You smiled. It was contagious as he grinned your way too.

“You didn’t make a fool of yourself. At all.” He stressed. “Do you remember anything now?” He sounded concerned, still unsure how to go about this.

“Bits and pieces, yeah.” You admitted. “You got me a glass of water and then left…”

He looked guilty. “I lost myself a little, I admit, but I couldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t go through with it because you were so drunk and I was pretty sure you hated me and I could never take advantage of you like that.”

Your heart fluttered. Genuine Seokjin was dangerous for you. “I don’t hate you,” you told him pointedly, crossing your arms across your chest, the beginnings of a smirk itching to appear. “You annoy me to no end but that’s sort of your charm, I guess.”

He cocked an eyebrow, sensing the change in atmosphere as he asked smugly, “My charm?”

“Don’t ruin it,” you snipped, feeling brave as you stepped closer to him to tilt your head and run a hand down his chest – down the dabbing Santa… “So, you liked kissing me?”

He nodded enthusiastically, curiously watching your movements. “It felt good. And not just in my dick but like, everywhere.”

“Seokjin!” You exclaimed, rendered speechless.

“What?” He asked, eyes wide. He grabbed your hips pulling you closer and you couldn’t help but squeal, reaching for his shoulders. He felt good. Big and warm and familiar. “I’m trying to talk about my feelings here.”

He was teasing you, sure, but he was also telling the truth. You knew that. Feelings was a scary word, an uncertain word, but you thought you liked the way it made you feel. Maybe Ana was correct… Maybe a part of you did like Seokjin. It sure felt like it right now…

“Kiss me,” you whispered, gaze on his mouth before it flickered to his eyes. “I’m sober now and I want to see if I like it too.”

You already knew the answer. He did too by the smirk on his face, but he listened anyway, closing the distance between your mouths. His lips felt instantly familiar, making you feel at ease as they pressed into yours. Fluttering his eyes closed you followed suit and he moved gently, tentatively, as if he couldn’t believe it – as if he didn’t want to ruin anything. From the back of your mind vague memories started to wind their way forward, his kiss drawing them out.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body into his ever so slightly with a soft sigh. The tip of his tongue found yours, hints of it joining each drag of his mouth and something lit up inside of you. So you were inevitably disappointed when he pulled back, giving your hips a soft squeeze.

“So?” He grinned.

You hummed out loud, running your fingers through the hair against the nape of his neck. He liked that. You remembered running them through his hair on the dancefloor, his hands on your body. Stomach doing somersaults, you wanted more – needed more. “Maybe a bit more tongue and I’ll give you an answer…”

He breathed out a shaky laugh and you thought he might hit back with something but there was no time for talking, not when he couldn’t bear to be away from your lips. Listening, he licked into your mouth, moving with a lot more confidence now. He held you tight before one of his hands came up to softly cup your cheek, the quietest of noises escaping his throat – showing just how much he was enjoying himself. You joined him, moaning gently into the kiss, your tongues untiring as the air around you shifted.

It was when your back hit the wall did you truly let yourself leave go, hands exploring the expanse of his back as he crowded you, humming greedily against your lips, his hands holding your face as if he couldn’t bear to leave you and come up for air. More memories fluttered their way past your eyelids, a lot more vivid now, Seokjin’s tongue beckoning them to the forefront of your mind.

You remembered your kiss was hot and heavy, up against your entry way wall. You had wanted him so bad in that moment and here wasn’t much different. It was like you had been thrown right back there – that eagerness, that want. The only reason you pulled away eventually was because you literally needed to breath. You didn’t fancy passing out, enjoying yourself way too much…

“I can’t believe you said to forget about this,” you managed to speak, breathless, lips wet and flush as you ran your hands across the broadness of his shoulders. God. You couldn’t stop touching him.

“I can’t believe you did forget about this,” he exclaimed. He was breathing heavy, just like at the club when you’d grinded all over him. Your memory was on your side now. All it had needed was a prod.

He did have you there. Your bad. But – “In my defence you supplied the tequila shots.” Although, you had suggested a second round…

He chuckled, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip. “Stop giving me attitude. It’s turning me on.”

You stomach flipped, your fingernails digging into the wool blend of his jumper as you held him to you. You wanted to kiss him for hours, because now that you’d started you didn’t want to stop.

“Should we head back now?” Seokjin asked against a curl of your tongue, one hand against the wall, the other stroking your jaw line. “They’re probably wondering where we both are.”

“In a moment,” you murmured, a hand of yours bravely dragging down his side. You hit the waistband of his jeans and curled a finger through a belt loop, nudging his crotch flush to yours. Your mouth did the rest of the talking. Sober you wanted what drunk you had missed out on.

“Fuck,” you heard him mutter, immediately understanding where you wanted this to lead. “Or we can just ditch those losers and go to my place?” He drew back to catch your reaction. “Your place?”

“We can’t do that.” As tempting as that sounded, you couldn’t not attend your own Christmas party you’d spent weeks organising. Seokjin was hot, but he wasn’t that hot. Plus, it would way too suspicious if you both just disappeared…

Seokjin agreed with a little sigh. “Yeah, you’re right.”

That didn’t mean you couldn’t think of other ideas though…

“What are you doing?” Seokjin asked, moving back slightly as you wrestled for your phone in your skirt pocket. He watched you search for Jungkook’s name in your phonebook – you were sure you still had his number from when you’d had to “mentor” him the first week he’d arrived. Success! You did! You hurriedly text him.

(13:31pm) You: I can’t find him. Start without us but LEAVE me some food

He replied immediately. He was probably withering away by now, the poor boy.

(13:32pm) Jungkook: Oh man Jin is so fucking dead (13:32pm) Jungkook: Tell him I love him before you stick the knife in 🤪 (13:32pm) You: Sure thing

You looked up at Seokjin and grinned. “Just bought us half an hour.”

He looked impressed, an eyebrow cocked as he regarded you. “What are we going to do in half hour? – and please don’t say kill me.”

You giggled – actually giggled. Damn him. You reached for his belt loop again, tugging it gently. “Whatever it is, we can’t do it out in the hallway.”

You were playing a very dangerous game here. Out in the open, at your place of work. The storeroom was probably an even sillier idea – but that’s where you ended up dragging him into, flipping on the light to save being surrounded in darkness. You were 99% sure the surveillance cameras didn’t work on this floor anyway, so…

“You’re crazy,” he laughed weakly in disbelief, stumbling over an (empty) mop bucket as he went to reach for you.

“And you love it,” you smirked against his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck.

The urge took over again, now in the privacy of the storage cupboard you were free to do whatever you liked. Seokjin grew hard against you quickly, your mouths locked together in haste as his palms felt up your ass. It wasn’t long before he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his middle as he continued to kiss you greedily against the wall. His hands slipped under your skirt, cupping your ass and you tried to circle your hips as best you could, feeling his erection through the layers of your tights and underwear, both of you straining out moans and grunts.

“I’m having déjà vu,” he grinned, lowering his mouth to nip at your neck. You gasped, pushing into him and he took the opportunity to begin to kiss your throat. Just like last time… Déjà vu, indeed.

Breaking away he looked between your bodies, the band of white wool along your skirt protecting your modesty, but only just. “You weren’t dressed as Mrs. Claus though.” He sunk his teeth into your neck once more, a little harder this time and you jerked, yelping as you squeezed the tops of his arms. He liked that reaction, licking a broad strip up the column of your throat, getting you all kinds of wet and sticky.

No doubt between your legs matched. You were hot, and impatient, and Seokjin’s mouth was evil. Especially when he lifted his head, dark fringe in his eyes, and smirked at you. Fuck, you really wanted him. Your heart was doing somersaults.

“A fucking sexy Mrs. Claus.”

You immediately rolled your eyes. Why was he ruining it? You were not about to partake in some sordid Christmas roleplay fantasy of his… “Just shut up and kiss me.”

He didn’t really feel like answering back.

A few minutes later you were placed back on the floor, your legs a little shaky as you clung to him, mouths still unrelenting. You were both heavy breathed and burning with desire. He pinned you to the wall with his thigh, separating your legs and giving you something else to grind against as his lips trailed the expanse of your throat, his fingers digging into the meat of your ass so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if he teared your hosiery.

You were weak, slick against your underwear and desperate for some sort of release. Seokjin panted against your ear. “Do you remember what you said that night?” Moaning was all you could give in reply. “You wanted my dick. You were begging for it.”

Hearing him speak like that drove you wild. “Mmhm. Remind me.” You could vaguely remember, too pent up to get embarrassed.

He moved his thigh, pressing his crotch flush to yours and hooked a finger under your chin, lifting your face so he could kiss you again. You could feel his erection and unable to hold off any longer you reached between you and wrapped your hand around him. You could recall doing this before, Seokjin stopping you, but this time he did no such thing. Instead, he pushed into your touch, his voice thick with something that made you shiver as he spoke.

“You drive me crazy… Every god damn day…”

Your mind was a little too preoccupied to truly concentrate on his words but they seemed to stir something inside of you. Nudge something that had been forgotten. You couldn’t place it, but it had to do with last weekend. Something he’d said to you… before he’d kissed you… You couldn’t remember but the faintest of memories made you glow.

“W-we should really just head to my place,” Seokjin stammered slightly, keening into your touch. You were sure his thighs were trembling, all the blood in his dick turning him weak.

“There’s no need,” you breezed, and before you could take a moment to reconsider you were dropping to your knees.

“Fuck, what are you doing?” He was practically beside himself, fingers digging into your shoulders as he watched you reach for the buttons on his jeans.

“What do you think?”

He sighed exhaustedly, a red flush beginning to travel its way up his neck, peeking above the collar of his sweater. “You’re trying to kill me.”

Whatever he’d been expecting to happen in here hadn’t been you sucking his dick, you could tell. You took great pleasure in that. It was fun getting this kind of reaction from him. Truth was, when the mood struck, the mood struck, and you wanted him – badly.

He watched you unbutton him, his black underwear coming into view – Calvin Klein, the band told you, and above that, where his jumper had ridden up, you could see a sliver of smooth tan skin – You just knew he was hiding a great body under there, but now wasn’t the time for stripping. You needed to be quick.

You tugged his jeans down a little past his hips, enough for easy access. “You really want to kill–ughgh –!”

He broke off with a surprised moan, your hand reaching inside his boxers to pull out his dick. Wrapping your palm around the base you gripped automatically, staring at what you could only describe as his third leg, with a slack jaw. “Of course you have a fucking massive dick,” you muttered, feeling a little unnerved.

Surprise immediately dissipating, Seokjin gave you a smirk. “That obvious, huh?”

You breathed heavily through your nose, beginning to run your fist along his length on instinct. It was a good looking dick, you’d give him that. Tense at your sudden movements, Seokjin soon eased up, watching you carefully. You looked up at him, giving him a tiny, slightly shy smile… There really was no going back now. Not that you wanted to. Things had changed and they were going to change even more after this…

“Come on,” he murmured, a hand reaching out to stroke your cheek. His voice sounded dangerous, low and honeyed as he gazed at you on your knees for him. “Suck it like I know you want to…”

You scoffed, although surely he could see the effect he had on you. You weren’t bluffing anybody, not even yourself. “Don’t rush me.”

Seokjin looked amused, but that soon changed when you swiped your tongue across the head of his cock in one fluid and determined motion. His knees pretty much buckled, a hand reaching for the side of your head, his fingers weaving into your hair. You chuckled a little mischievously, your lips wrapped around him, knowing the vibrations would fuck with his head some more. Seokjin laughed stiffly along, knowing what you were up to – knowing you loved having this sort of effect on him – but it sounded strained, wavering in the middle as his eyes locked with yours, the veins in his neck beginning to bulge with the strain.

You moved, wrapping your lips around him further, your tongue washing against the hot skin and he stumbled forward a little, a grunt slipping from his mouth. That fuelled you, slipping him deeper, your tongue tracing patterns along the underside before you pulled back and repeated. You weren’t kidding when you said he had a massive dick, it was almost daunting, but you found a way around it, massaging your fist along the base of him in time with your mouth until you found a confident rhythm.

“Oh, fuck.”

That boosted your ego too, taking great pleasure in the way you seemed to have stunned Seokjin into more or less complete silence. He wasn’t very cocky right now, was he? If you had known sucking his dick would shut him up, you’d have done it long ago – or maybe that was your own horniness talking… Who knew right now.

You popped off him, running your palm wider, further along to circle over the head, your saliva acting as lubrication, quiet squelching noises slipping from between your fingers. You smirked up at him, “Am I still boring?”

It took him a moment to process your question, his body hunched, surrendering to the pleasure, and you admired the way his lips parted, each breath audible as he stared down at you, dark eyes glazed over. God, he was hot. How had you been so unbothered by him for so long?

Shaking his head, he halfway came to. “Sucking my dick in a storeroom, can’t get any wilder than this. Well done, you proved me wrong.”

That was nice to hear. You liked it when he was wrong, mainly because you loved being right. You wrapped your free hand around the top of his thigh, needing the support as you took his dick in your mouth again. Feeling ambitious you willed yourself to relax as you eased along him, taking him deeper, beginning to bob back and forth, the faintest of noises escaping the back of your throat.

It drove him crazy, his head falling back as he whined. “If this is all just to prove a point and you stop before I cum, I’m going to cry like a motherfucking baby.”

You tried to laugh but ended up choking, gagging on his cock – unflattering surely, but he seemed to love it, his eyes flashing as he cupped your hand that gripped his girth, gently pulling it away to place on his other thigh. He didn’t want his view obstructed he watched. Besides, you didn’t need your hand as a safety net anymore anyway…

“Fu-ck, you look so good sucking my dick,” he awed, his voice hoarse. He tightened the hold he had on your hair, the fingers of his other hand brushing rouge strands out of your face. You looked up at him, mouth stuffed and he smirked. It made your core pulse. “On your knees. You couldn’t get down there quick enough.”

A moan slipped from your throat, pulsating against his cock. Of course the guy had a filthy mouth, it should’ve been obvious. What was shocking though, was the effect it had on you. Dirty talk was cringeworthy in your eyes, not many men could pull it off – not even Namjoon – but words like that coming from Seokjin?! You were sure you’d just freshly drenched your underwear. It would surely be a slip ‘n’ slide down there when he finally got his hands on you – If he got his hands on you. Fuck, he better.

A nudge of his hips cut short your momentary distraction, realising that Seokjin was beginning to thrust ever so slightly into your mouth. He noticed your attention on him and asked hesitantly, “This okay?”

“Mhmmhmm,” you hummed, gurgling a little which seemed to drive him a little crazy. You let him take control, concentrating on breathing through your nose and pleasuring him with your tongue as he gently fucked your mouth.

You were losing your mind, hazy pleasure blurring your vision and clouding your thoughts. Rationality was out the window long ago, all that you knew was the red, hot want you had for him. The Christmas party and the fact you were risking your job right now didn’t come into play, all you cared about was chasing that desire.

Looking up at Seokjin you noticed his eyes were closed now, his chin tilted towards the ceiling, expression contorted with pleasure as the quietest of moans escaped his throat with each rugged breath he took. You pulsed down below, only this time the urge burned its way up your body, getting hotter as he quickened his motions, seemingly losing himself, seemingly pursuing his end.

He pulled back abruptly during one withdraw, breath shaky as he kept the tip of his cock inside your mouth, as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from the warm wetness. You sucked firmly, catching his gaze and he just about lost it, eyes rolling into the back of his skull.

“Shit,” he cursed, ever so slightly nudging further into you, edging himself almost. You darted the tip of your tongue along his slit, earning yourself a soft hiss. His thighs were trembling, you could feel the vibrations under your palm and his neck was thick and tense with strain, patched red, as he tried his might to gain some control over the pleasure you were giving him. “J-Just checking, there’s no chance we’ll have sex in here, right?”

His voice trembled too, all light and airy and so unlike his voice that you were familiar with. His eyes were blow wide as he gaped down at you, his lips plumper than you’d ever seen them before. He was beautiful. Damn, you really wanted to kiss him again…

You slid away, cupping your hand around his dick to jerk him off ever so slowly, a couple of inches along the base. He was more than slick now, coated in your spit, flesh veiny and angry red. Shifting on your knees, ignoring the cricks to power on through, you shrugged. “Not unless you carry condoms with you at work.”

He pondered for a moment. “I can’t say I do.” That caused you to chuckle, leaning in to curl your tongue against the side of his cock. He startled, a loud moan escaping that was surely unnecessary, but it did wonders for your ego.

He tightened his hold on your head, angling you to the tip of his dick, desperate to get back into your warmth. “So you won’t be disappointed when I inevitably bust a nut?”

You raised an eyebrow, his cock drawing translucent patterns against your lips as you replied. “That’s why I’m down here.”

He whimpered, the sheer thought of coming exciting him further. You slipped him back inside, feeling him grip his fingers into your hair, anchoring himself – and you, in preparation.

“Oh, ffuck,” he muttered, watching you begin to meet every thrust his hips gave you. You were determined, eager for him to cum. You hadn’t sucked dick in so long but now you were in your element, each reaction from Seokjin, no matter how small, encouraging you. The fact he was hiding a foot long in his pants was now no issue at all. You were a pro, just like in all aspects of life.

A strange sound left the back of Seokjin’s throat, almost as if he was getting strangled and his shoulders slumped, the rest of him growing stiff. “Where am I doing this?” He asked weakly. “Y/N?” He demanded pretty shrilly when you didn’t reply.

You weren’t relenting, somehow pushing him deeper into your mouth and down your throat and he groaned loudly, blunt nails digging into your scalp. “You want me to cum down your throat?”

Ding Ding. Clever Seokjin.

You nodded widely around his girth, gagging a little a process, but this time you owned it. He loved it.

“Fuck.” He grunted, spreading his feet a little, planting himself to the tiles. “You really want my fucking cum.”

You moaned, sending a fire of vibrations up his dick and you knew you had him. His hips stilled almost instantly, his cock rammed inside your mouth and you readjusted, using your tongue to coax his release. He came with a deep exhale like moan, stumbling forward with a surprised grunt as one of his hands reached out to slam into the wall behind you. You held him steady with your hands flat against his thighs, swallowing his cum down quickly because you definitely had a love hate relationship with the stuff. Dealt with swiftly, you more than welcomed it.

Seokjin softly chuckled down at you as he fell from your mouth, now well on his way to growing flaccid and eased off as you straightened your back and made motions to stand (on shaky legs). He tucked himself back inside his underwear, the snap of the waistband making you flutter. Flutter where you wanted him to touch the most.

You felt warmth as he hooked a hand around your hip, pulling you to him with a bashful grin. “That was worth getting fired for.”

You giggled, wiping the sides of your mouth with the back of your hand before cupping the back of his neck, dragging him closer as you backed up against the wall. You liked when he crowded around you, liked feeling him against your body. Your body that was screaming for him right now…

“No one’s getting fired,” you reassured, voice a murmur and then either you or he connected your mouths again. Couldn’t tell who – it was probably both of you. It was amusing that you were the one assuring him, Miss. Uptight who worried about every single little thing. He was the one was supposed to be carefree, yet this had all been your idea.

Your hand dragged down his chest, feeling the hardness of his pecs, and for a split second you thought about taking him up on the offer of ditching the party and driving to his place. You wanted to get him naked, wanted to see what you could feel, and you really wanted to fuck him. Yet, you knew it was a bad idea. Even worse than sucking dick on the second floor of the office building. Possibly.

“How long do you think we have before they throw a search party?” Seokjin asked, cupping your face with one hand as the other snaked down to your ass.

“We still have time.”

You and Seokjin were always at one another’s throats, no one would guess you were actually getting it on directly underneath them… You were positive.

“Hm. Enough for me to return the favour?” He contemplated.

You made a noise of agreement, nodding eagerly as you stretched for his mouth, unable to just. Stop. Kissing. Him.

It turned hot and heavy immediately, decision now made, and you grasped at one another, kissing wildly. “I love touching you,” he grunted against your tongue, hands gripping anything he could. You had to agree, especially his shoulders. You’d never felt anything like them in your entire life, no wonder he had the upper body strength to hold you up. He was big. Big big, and it was driving you crazy.

“This ass,” he growled, pulling away from your lips as both hands cupped the rounds of flesh, giving them a very keen and firm squeeze. Skirt bunched up at your hips he had the perfect access. You moaned, the heat between your bodies becoming unbearable and you nearly collapsed into him when one of his hands found its way to your core, cupping the sensitive flesh hesitantly. That was until he felt how soaked you were. It had seeped through your underwear, dampening your tights. It felt heavy and uncomfortable but you guessed that was soon to change now that he’d gotten his hands on you…

“So fucking wet,” he purred, dropping his height a little to meet your eyes. His fingers slipped inside your panties, his index and middle finger running along your folds before a knuckle found your clit, your hips bucking. He rubbed the bundle of nerves rather lightly, but it was enough. You were beside yourself, any pleasure, however slight, blowing your mind. You moaned sweetly, hot air puffing against Seokjin’s lips. He smirked. “Someone’s very responsive.”

“Please,” you moaned, however you weren’t too sure what you needed to beg for.

He loved it though, smirking wider. “There she is.”

“Please, Seokjin,” you repeated, clutching to the neck of his sweater. Hazy memories of last weekend drifted into the forefront of your mind. Begging him for his dick. Sadly, you couldn’t have that right now, but there was always second best.

Leaning in as if to kiss you he pulled back last minute, a teasing lilt to his tone as he asked you a question. “What do you want, baby?”

You moaned again, the pet name not so bad after all and pressed into his touch, the headiness in his voice making you tremble with need. Your answer was simple. “Your fingers.”

Seokjin wasted no time, yanking his hand away to tug at your hosiery. They didn’t budge, so he moved his other hand from your ass to help. Maybe the light sheen of sweat that painted your skin had stuck tight the nylon – or maybe he was just useless…

“What the hell are these?” He huffed, clearly impatient.

“Stop, you’re going to rip them,” you told him off. All you needed was to walk back inside the office with laddered tights… How very unsuspicious…

“They’re dumb.”

“I’m sorry,” you exclaimed, “wasn’t expecting us to be getting it on today.”

Seokjin paused what he was doing to shoot you a look of sheer judgement. “Getting it on?”

“Shut up,” you grumbled. Yes, maybe your choice of words were lame, but it still stood. You were getting it on right now!

He laughed and tugged at the waistband one last time, finally succeeding but also yanking down your underwear in the process.

“Let me see you,” he strained out, gripping your hips and you had no time to feel embarrassed by your sudden waist-down nakedness. His eyes drunk up your soaked core, before he looked up at your face again, his right hand reaching for you, each brush of his fingertips turning you boneless. “Fuck. You have the best pussy I’ve ever seen.”

He was kissing you again, pushing you further into the wall. Pussy. Under all circumstances that word was just yuck, but once again, coming from Seokjin it didn’t seem so bad anymore. It made your core leap, but that might have been something to do with the way he was nestling a deft, long finger inside of you. Your walls clenched around the intrusion as you moaned into his mouth and you gripped at his shoulders, rolling your hips as he started to curl the digit against your warmth.

Ever so carefully he added a second finger, the burn easing quickly as pleasure took over. His thumb rubbed messy circles against your clit, your arousal beginning to squelch audibly inside the small room. You hooked your arms around his neck instead, pulling him closer and he grunted into your mouth, sounding unlike himself.

“Seokjin–!” You mewled, falling from his mouth to catch your breath.

“Yeah, me,” he smirked, his free had rubbing small circles into your hip as he continued to give you what you wanted. “I love it when you say my name.” His lips landed on your throat and you pushed your head to the side, pretty sure you were moaning too loudly now but the stimulation was too good to ignore. You grew wetter. His fingers easily sliding in and out of you as he started to finger you quicker, the lewd squelching sticking inside your ears.

“You’re soaked, Y/N. Did I do this?” He murmured against your ear before nibbling your lobe. You shuddered. “Sucking my dick made you so horny.” The hand on your hip slid to your ass, and he squeezed the meat hard, using it as leverage to go even faster. You squeezed around his fingers tightly, crying out.

But then there was nothing but emptiness as he pulled them out, making you gasp out in shock. He looked playfully smug. “What’s up? Lost your voice?”

This fucker. Jungkook was right, you were going to murder him. Only not for going AWOL but for not giving you the orgasm you craved. Seokjin’s wet hand massaged the inside of your thigh, and you squeezed your legs together trying your best to ease the tension that was building up.

“Seokjin, don’t fuck around.” You told him sternly, although your voice was anything but calm.

“Am I fucking around?” He asked, grinning from ear to ear as he lowered his shoulders and stole another look at your needy heat. Something inside him changed then, as he let out a curse. “Shit. I wanna taste you.” His eyes pleaded with you. “Can taste you?”

You were nodding before you realised, although you weren’t about to say please again –

you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Instead you exhaled out a shaky yes.

Squatting immediately he pulled the nylon passed your knees, lifting a foot to slip off one of your heels, the leg of your hosiery following soon after. You wobbled as he raised your foot higher and you reached out for his shoulders to steady yourself.

“I got you,” he reassured. “I just need to spread you a little.” Hooking your foot on the bottom shelf of the cabinet next to you, your legs widened, giving him perfect access to where you needed him the most. “There,” he said, looking pleased with himself.

His gaze soon darkened when he got a look at you and you braced yourself against the wall as he stalked nearer, a palm cupping your thigh before he followed the curve with his mouth, kissing his way closer and closer to your core. You groaned softly when his lips parted around your clit, warmth flooding you, slowly inking its way through your veins and darting his tongue out he brushed it against you slowly, repeating with the same rhythm until you were squirming, a hand reaching for his hair just for something to grip.

He sped up, learning what your body liked quickly, dropping to one knee to sink further into you. You moaned pretty loudly when you felt his fingers press against your entrance, slipping inside, and you took him greedily and nosily, pushing into his tongue that had now curled around your clit as he sucked softly.

You fell to pieces. Fingernails dragging along his scalp as you tugged at his hair. Which he seemed to love, by the way. If his grunting was anything to go by, his movements more determined, firmer. Each time he sucked, point of his tongue flicking against you, you lost it a bit more, gasping out in pleasure. Boy knew how to use his mouth, you were pleasantly surprised.

He pulled back, his breath a little ragged and replaced his tongue with the pad of his thumb, rubbing tight, firm circles against your sticky clit. “You like getting your clit sucked. Noted.” He grinned, sending your stomach flipping. His mouth and chin were covered in your arousal, which he made no attempt to clean off. In fact, he went immediately back for seconds, licking a wide strip up your whole core, noises of satisfaction leaving him.

“God, Seokjin,” you murmured weakly, dizzy and trembling. If he kept this up you were going to cum very soon. Especially with the way his fingers caressed your insides, pressing deep until he hit something that had you yelping.

He looked triumphant as he dropped to both knees now, looking up at you, watching your reaction as he repeatedly curled against your g-spot. You squirmed around, pleasure becoming a little unbearable but oh, so addictive.

“So, no one ends up fucking at the office Christmas party, huh?” He asked nonchalantly. This fucker was really having a casual conversation with you as he tried to bring you to your knees. By his smug grin, he knew what he was doing.

Well, not on your watch.

You bit back a moan, and shrugged, trying your best to sound normal. “We’re not going all the way so technically, that still stands.”

He laughed loudly, genuinely amused, but his fingers had other ideas. He pulled out halfway, straightening his digits to fuck into you – hard. You choked out, feeling him slowly withdraw, letting you catch your breath before he repeated. And repeated. And repeated…

You were close to seeing stars, the moans rolling freely from your mouth as you clung to his hair. He was evil. “Seok–oh, shit,” you cursed, feeling him deep inside you yet again. “Seokjinnn.”

“What is it, babe?” He asked, acting oblivious. At the name you clenched around his soaked fingers. “I knew you loved it when I called you that.” You didn’t have time to chew him out because his tongue was washing against your clit again, curling around it, prodding it, sucking it… Your eyes rolled back, a thin sheen of sweat coating your neck and chest, and you knew you weren’t long for this world. You were ten seconds away from becoming a puddle on the floor.

“Gonna cum, baby?” You squeezed around his fingers again, clit pulsing against his tongue. “You love that too.” You could feel his shit eating grin against you but didn’t care.

“Don’t stop,” you demanded, out of breath.

“Not planning on it,” he affronted, licking up your folds once again. You gasped loudly, clenching your eyes tightly closed. You were hanging over the pinnacle, just a little more and you’d fall. You were this close to coming and you might explode in the process.

“I’m going to make this pussy cum so good. So fucking good,” Seokjin almost goaded, which was in fact, what pushed you over the edge. You came with a loud, strained cry, white hot pleasure that exploded behind your eyelids.

He made sure to rinse you for all you were worth, until you were writhing out of his grip, your grasp on his hair easing and then he was jumping to his feet, his mouth suddenly on yours with a grunt, kissing you like crazy. You couldn’t tell who was out of breath more.

“Tonight.” He announced ferociously. “Tonight. Please come over and let me fuck you.”

You moaned at the thought, your tongues turning messy as you tried to concentrate and form words. “My place. I live alone. We can be as loud as we like.”

Five minutes later you were back in your tights, knees wobbling together as you tried to slip into your shoe. There wasn’t time for more chitchat – or kissing, you needed to get back to the office before someone came looking for you both.

“So does that mean you forgive me over Rosal & Steinar?” Seokjin asked curiously, still fairly out of breath. He’d wiped his mouth now, in attempt to clean himself up, but his bangs were slightly kinked, forehead shiny and his cheeks were very much still red.

You turned to him and smirked. “Another orgasm and maybe.”

He chuckled. “I’m positive that can be arranged.” You didn’t doubt it. “No, but really,” he carried on, taking you by surprise when he clasped your hand, rooting you to the spot. “You know I had to do it, right? I felt terrible but there weren’t many options.”

His eyes pooled with sincerity and you found yourself softening, growing touched. It was nice to know he hadn’t done it out of spite – although why he would have seemed pretty ludicrous to believe now… No, you’d just been bitter.

“I know, Seokjin,” you smiled, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’ve forgotten about it.” He looked a little sceptical. “I forgive you,” you insisted with a laugh. It was either he closed the deal or they found another company… They were legitimately the only two options. You got it.

He returned your smile, finally accepting your reassurance, and you tugged at his hand, opening the storeroom door. You needed to leave. Now.

But –

Turning back at him over your shoulder, you shot him a playful grin. “Doesn’t mean I won’t steal them back next year though.”

His eyes widened in surprise before they lit up, his laughter loud down the empty hallway.

“Game on, baby.”

“Do I look acceptable?”

You and Seokjin were mere inches from the door leading into the office, your whispers nervous as you hesitated about going inside. You needed to get your best lying face on. ASAP.

“Hang on,” you said, reaching up to adjust his Santa’s hat. The flush on his face had paled, thankfully. “There we go. What about me?”

“Hm.” He pondered, cupping your face to stare down at you, worrying you actually. “I still think we look like we were giving mad head in the storeroom.”

“Stop,” you groaned, pulling away from him as you realised he was only teasing. You were still pretty sticky downstairs, but you were sure you looked visibly presentable. “You’re going to make it obvious.”

Finally plucking up the courage, you pushed the door open and stepped inside, Seokjin following. Your Christmas playlist grew louder instantly and of course, the first person you saw was Jungkook, ass perched on your desk for some reason, snacking on a bowl of olives. He popped them like they were grapes. He better not have dripped olive oil over your keyboard, you’d kill him.

“Ah, look who turned up to their own party,” he exclaimed, standing up. He dropped the bowl right next to your desktop and wiped his fingers into his jeans, striding towards you both.

You took a deep breath and went for that Oscar. “Blame Seokjin,” you fumed.

“Where the hell did you disappear to?” He laughed, directing his question to Seokjin who stood behind you still.

“I, uh... I...”

You rolled your eyes inwardly. If he fucked this up, well then, he wasn’t fucking you tonight…

“I went to grab a cake.”

A fucking cake. He’d walked in empty handed. Great white lie there, Seokjin…

Jungkook looked back and forth between you, his face contorting in confusion. “So... Where is the cake?”

“Uh.”

You needed to save this idiot. “Dummy forgot to order it,” you sneered, walking past Jungkook to grab the bowl of olives.

“Hey,” Seokjin exclaimed, sounding way too offended for it to be acting, just as Jungkook burst into laughter. You didn’t know what Seokjin expected, he’d walked straight into that one.

“I really thought she’d killed you,” Jungkook told his friend, whacking his shoulder. Seokjin’s eyes widened in warning, a hand coming out to karate slice the younger guy’s neck.

“I went easy on him,” you grinned, stopping them before they started wrestling for real. “– Y’know, Christmas spirit and all that.”

That caught Seokjin’s attention. You looked at one another properly for the first time since you’d stepped inside. Eyebrows raised he looked entertained. “You went easy on me?”

“Yup,” you nodded, unable to hide your smirk.

His expression changed for a split second, a glimmer in his eyes that made you mildly feverish at the thought of him getting his hands on you later on.

“Duly noted,” was all he replied, and you shared a smile before Jungkook interrupted.

“I saved you both some food. Come on,” he motioned with his hand.

“Thanks, JK,” Seokjin bellowed, clapping his back.

You followed behind them, nerves easing up. “Yeah, thanks, Jungkook.”

If anything, Seokjin was the one who got grilled the most during the rest of the party, he had been the one to disappear after all, so it was fun watching him squirm as Hoseok demanded answers. He looked a right fool for “forgetting” to order a cake, but he’d brought it all on himself so you couldn’t feel too sorry for him…

He was also risking a lot when he felt up your ass as you were finding his stupid Secret Santa gift in your desk drawer, ready to exchange with everyone. You straightened up immediately, pushing his hand away just in case anyone noticed – Mina was literally a desk away from you, although she was too busy giggling at Jungkook who was acting up on the karaoke machine to notice anything.

Seokjin winked as you glared at him. “Can’t wait for tonight.”

You pointed your index finger between his eyes. “Behave or I’ll cancel.”

But, you both knew you were just talking shit…

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #seokjin smut #bts smut #jin smut #jin fanfic #floralseokjin:writings #fic:final sleigh

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 4 years ago

Text

Honest and Truly

Summary: Spencer has his prom 10 years late, but none of that matters when it's with the girl of his dreams.

Word Count: 4.8 k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female (She/Her)-- Fluff

CW: Minimal vulgar language (PG-13)

Author's Note: This just might be my most favorite thing I've written in a very long time :) Also listen to the song I linked, it makes the title and the ending make more sense! thank you to @spookydrreid and @writhingintheroses for helping me a particular scene!!

Add yourself to my taglist! It makes it much easier for me :)

Honest and Truly

“A prom?” Spencer asks, realizing that the conversation had entered uncharted territory, a territory in which he had not a single clue how to navigate. Spencer, being a preteen in high school, never attended prom.

“Yes, Reid. A prom,” Penelope says, staring at him over the many monitors and stuffed cats that littered her desk, “It’s going to be so much fun!” she says, excitedly.

“That sounds like, uh, I’ll have plans that night,” Spencer tells Penelope, spinning around in the swivel chair as he eats his turkey and cheese sandwich. He usually enjoys their lunches together, but when Penelope gets an idea in her head, there’s no stopping her.

@s“Now I don’t believe that for a second, Reid. The only time that you have plans is when you’re with Y/N. And Y/N is going to be at this prom,” Garcia says, her pink glasses sliding down her nose. She winks at Reid, almost like she enjoys watching him squirm.

“How do you know that she’s going? Did she say she’s going?” Spencer asks, unable to conceal his eagerness that Y/N could be attending. Spencer might hate dancing and those fancy shoes that are too tight on his toes, but all that can be talked away if Y/N is there.

“Yes, she’s going because you’re asking her. That and I’m making everyone go,” Penelope says matter of factly.

Spencer opens his mouth, attempting to talk away Penelope’s suggestion. But Spencer Reid is a smart man and he knows better than trying to argue his way out with Penelope. Especially when it comes to Y/N. He might have an excellent poker face, but Spencer can’t hide his love for Y/N.

“I’m not going to ask her. You know she’ll think it’s because-” Spencer says, prepping for a long winded rant before the door of Penelope’s office swings open.

Y/N, with two coffees in hand, floats into the room like she’s walking on air. Or maybe it’s Spencer’s mind that’s floating when Y/N walks in. He can never tell. Whenever he’s near her, it’s like everything is sweeter, lighter and airier. Wordlessly, she passes the coffee to Spencer. Feeling her fingertips graze his reminds him of how pathetic he must be. He nods, telling her thanks, knowing that he’s unable to fully articulate just how grateful he is for the littlest things.

“Who are you not going to ask and to where, Spence?” Y/N says, leaning against the filing cabinets and sipping her coffee. Penelope, never one to be quiet, silently watches as Spencer and Y/N converse. Spencer looks up at her, feeling that light and airy feeling again. He brushes his hair that falls against his forehead nervously thinking of an answer.

“I- uh, I was thinking of asking my mother to come stay with me for a couple of weeks. You know, she hasn’t seen DC in a couple of years. And I do have some personal days banked,” Spencer says, telling Y/N a small white lie.

“She’s in Vegas, right?” Y/N asks, interested in what Spencer is saying, which is something that he’s still not used to. Spencer nods, smiling awkwardly.

“Yeah, she says that she likes the heat,” Spencer says, hating how formal and cold the conversation sounds. It’s normally flowing with easy and familiarity, but something is wedged between them. Penelope, long forgotten by the pair, types rapidly on her keyboard.

“You know, Spence. If you’re up for it maybe we can have lunch or meet at Elmwood Park. I’d love to meet the woman that made my favorite person,” she says, staring directly into Spencer’s eyes. Her stare is so intense that it’s like she’s looking into his soul. He thinks that if she looks deep enough she’ll see her own reflection because his soul belongs to her.

“I-I uh,” Spencer says, immediately thinking that he should actually invite his mother out for a visit, “I think that’s a good idea. She likes the sites and all,” he tells her nervously, trying to ease his beating heart.

He’s her favorite person.

Out of all the people in this city, this world. He’s her favorite person. Spencer, a lover of math, is tempted to figure out the odds of being his favorite person’s favorite person. He knows it’s slim. He knows it’s rare. It’s something magical and Spencer is terrified he’s going to ruin it. He’s terrified he’s going to fuck something up that’s not even his.

“It’s a date,” Y/N says, turning to Penelope, who’s still long forgotten, “Oh, Penny, you need to yell at Morgan for me. He ate my leftovers,” she tells Penelope, who feigns horror, “And now I don’t have lunch”

“How dare he!” Penelope says, her exaggerated response inciting chuckles, “he can get away with murder because he’s pretty,” she says, shaking her head.

He knows that she’s pretending to be disappointed, but he still doesn’t like to see it. Spencer unwraps the other half of his turkey and cheese sandwich and hands it to Y/N. She looks surprised, as if Spencer just handed her a million bucks.

“Spence, you don’t have to,” Y/N says, softly, handing back the half of the sandwich, “It’s your sandwich, I don’t want you to feel-”

“Eat it, Y/N,” Spencer says firmly, looking straight at Y/N, “You need to eat something. We both live off coffee as it is,” he says, hoping that Y/N will take the sandwich.

He’s looking straight at her and she’s looking straight at him. Spencer wonders if he looks deep enough he’ll reach her soul. He dares to think that if he can find her soul, he’ll stare at his face. He’s her favorite person after all, that’s got to count for something.

“Thanks, Spence,” Y/N says, smiling softly, “You make the best sandwiches,” she tells him, taking a bite of the sandwich as Garcia’s eyes flit from Spencer to Y/N. Back and forth, she watches the pair engage in the world’s best miscommunication.

“Y/N, did you hear? I’m throwing a prom!” Garcia says excitedly, hoping that Y/N’s reaction will be more enthusiastic than Spencer’s.

“A prom?” Y/N asks, unconvincingly, “God, I hated my prom. I got punched spilled all over my dress and my date tried to sneak alcohol into the banquet hall. It was a shitshow,” Y/N says, remembering the less than happy memories from high school.

“I didn’t go to prom. You know, between being a 12 year old and a dork,” Spencer says, self deprecatingly, “It’s not the ideal scenario, but I am familiar with the cultural significance of proms in American high school,” Spencer says, speaking to no one in particular, yet looking at Y/N directly.

“Maybe we’ll both get the prom night we deserve, Spence,” Y/N offers, tossing out her wax paper wrapper. She walks past him and it’s like the air is sweeter. He believes in science, but loves magic. Y/N is magic.

“Maybe,” Spencer says, refusing to make eye contact with Penelope, “you know, sorry to uh, cut this short. I have some paperwork to finish. Hotch’s been on me all day about it. So, uh, see you later,” he says, walking out of Penelope's office like a bat out of hell.

He tries to ignore the knowing stares from Penelope and Y/N’s confusion as he ducks out and walks into the bullpen. Spencer doesn’t have paperwork. He finished all his paperwork by 11:12 am. But what Spencer does have is a flight from Vegas to Quantico to book.

And prom shopping.

___

As it turns out, Spencer doesn’t know much about teenage American culture. Sure he’s seen 90s movies that Y/N forced him to watch. But it was quite difficult to pay attention when all he could feel was Y/N’s fingers brushing up against his in their shared bucket of popcorn or her head laying against his shoulder when she got tired.

He doesn’t know much of anything when it comes to romance. But he knows that he loves Y/N— and hopefully that’s enough. He still hasn’t asked her if she’d go with him. Honestly, he’s not too sure why he even has to ask her in the first place. She’s going to be there already, but Garcia and Morgan convinced him that it’s part of the so-called “Prom Experience”

“Spence,” Y/N says, she’s perched on the tall bar stool and rests her elbows on her kitchen island, “did you find a suit yet? I was thinking that we can go to that vintage store on Rock Ave. They have a surprisingly good size selection, and I think that this whole vintage thing fits your aesthetic really well,”

“My aesthetic?” Spencer questions, again lost at sea.

“You know, you’re like nerdy chic. Equal parts dorky and equal parts handsome,” she tells him. He feels his cheeks burn at her words.

Handsome

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not,” Spencer says, eyeing Y/N over the rim of his hot coffee.

“It is,” Y/N says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like him being handsome is just as obvious as him being dorky, “And get your wallet. We’re going to the vintage store,”

Spencer has a hate-love relationship with weekends. He loves spending time with Y/N where it was so easy to pretend that she loves him as he loves her. He hates the weekends for the same reason he loves them. Spencer knows that it’s all fake. It’s a façade of the truth.

“Spence! You’d look great in this,” Y/N suggests, holding up a gray sports coat, “I think it will match your eyes perfectly,”

“If you think so, Y/N,” Spencer says, nodding his head in agreement. She continues eyeing him as if she’s imagining what he’d look like in the jacket. He has to admit, it’s a very nice jacket.

“Come on, Spence. There’s a mirror over in the corner. Try it on for me,” she requests and not even a second later Spencer finds himself being dragged by the hand to try on the suit jacket.

Y/N holds the jacket open for him as he slips it on through his arms. He’s surprised to realize that it fits perfectly. He looks into the mirror, staring at his face and Y/N, who tugs and smooths the jacket. Spencer can’t look too much longer because if he does the lines between reality and fantasy will be difficult to distinguish. As much as he wants to stare into the mirror all day long, pretending that this is real, he much rather it actually be real. But wishing and dreaming only ends up with battle wounds and broken hearts.

“You look very handsome, Spencer. Very handsome,” Y/N says, staring into the mirror too now. But she’s not looking at the jacket, she’s looking at him. The beat of silence lasts longer than what’s comfortable, “Um, I think, I saw some pants that would look good on you, with this jacket, I mean,” she says, stumbling over her words. She’s not looking in the mirror any more, her gaze is noticeably away from Spencer and the mirror.

“Okay, uh, whatever you think, Y/N,” Spencer says, “I’m not even sure why I agreed to this thing. I don’t dance,” he says, regretting his choice to go to Penelope’s prom, but feeling guilty for maybe disappointing Y/N all in one breath.

“Did you ask her yet?” Y/N asks, holding up a pair of similarly gray colored pants. She must notice his confusion, “You know Austin, the woman you heroically saved. Does any of it ring a bell, Spence?” Y/N teases. Spencer feels his cheeks burn and his heart tighten, that happens a lot around Y/N.

“Oh Austin, uh no. She wasn’t interested in me, after all,” Spencer says, shifting his weight and staring at his converse, “I mean, I should have seen it coming. It’s transference, that’s like Psych 101,” he says, feeling strange. It was odd when Austin broke up with him, even if you can consider it breaking up. He felt a strange sense of relief when it happened, like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

Y/N clicks her tongue in annoyance as she walks over to Spencer. Tugging slightly on the sleeves of the jacket she says, “well she’s not as smart as I thought she was. You have to be a complete fool to let someone like you go,” she says quietly. She’s standing too close, looking too beautiful, and seeming too perfect for Spencer to not be completely enamoured.

Then it breaks, like shattered glass. The rosey glasses are lifted, leaving only cheeks that sting with nervousness and hearts the yearn for something a little more tangible.

“Stop staring at me and go try it on,” Y/N says, handing him the pair of pants, “Oh and I’m going to look for a vest and a tie to match. This store is unbelievable,” she tells him, pushing him into the makeshift dressing room.

Spencer puts on the pants, which fit, despite being maybe an inch or two loose in the waist. He looks into the tall mirror, which is noticeably empty without Y/N standing with him. A floating hand, belonging to Y/N appears. She holds a burgundy tie and a dark brown vest, both of which are very Spencer. He smiles slightly, strangely happy that Y/N has picked something out that’s perfect for him.

“Tell me when you’re decent,” she says, her voice muffled by the curtain that separates them. He sticks his head out of the curtain, his eyes immediately finding Y/N’s.

“Ohh, Spence, you look amazing. Very handsome,” she says, her hands clasped around the tie, tugging just like she did with his suit jacket before, “What do you think?” she asks, looking at him curiously.

“It’s nice,” Spencer offers, approaching this like he does everything: cautiously, “I do like the texture,” he says, running his hands up and down the sleeves of the jacket.

“You look more than nice, Spence. I know I’ve said it like 30 times, but you look very handsome,” she says. Spencer hopes that she means it. He needs something to be real. Sometimes besides what he feels, because what he feels is the realest thing in the world.

“It’s nice to hear,” Spencer says, “you know from someone who’s not my mother,” he jokes, shrugging off the jacket and grabbing the hanger from Y/N.

“You deserve to hear it,” Y/N says so softly Spencer wonders if she’s saying it all. That beat of silence, followed by the awkwardness is back.

“So, uh, I saw a dress that I’m going to try on,” Y/N tells him, her gaze shifting everywhere but Spencer’s eyes.

“I’ll go pay for this,” Spencer says, walking back into the dressing room and the mirror that lies to his face.

___

Back in Y/N’s car, Spencer shifts in the passenger seat trying to find a way to sit comfortably while holding his suit jacket, pants and vest. Y/N hangs up her dress, that’s wrapped in a gown bag. She wouldn’t let Spencer see the dress, despite her practically picking out his entire outfit.

“So what’s next,” Spencer asks, as Y/N gets into the car. She smiles over at him sheepishly, leading Spencer to think she’s got another trick up her sleeve.

“I’ve got a confession, Spence. And please don’t hate me for it,” Y/N says, her voice coming out a little nervous as she eyes Spencer.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, even if I tried. And I’m certain I’ll never have to,” he says softly, resting his hand over hers on the console. He rubs the back of her hand gently, thinking about just how easy things are with her. If he could only be a little braver, maybe then the mirror wouldn’t be so empty.

“Okay. I knew that things didn’t work out with you and Austin. I overheard you telling Derek,” Y/N confesses, “And I know that it makes me a horrible friend or whatever, but I’m sorry that I eavesdropped,”

“Oh, uh how much did you hear?” Spencer asks, suddenly quite nervous. He can feel his heart drop, waiting for the moment when Y/N laughs at the thought of her loving him. He knows that it’s not fair to her, but then again all is fair is love and war.

“Enough to know that you’re still hung up or or someone else. I left once my conscience got the better of me. Once a Girl Scout, always a Girl Scout,” she says, making the three finger salute that’s common in scouting, “I just wanted to hear it from you, you know you’re my favorite person and all,” she says, a frown forming.

“I think, uh,” Spencer says, “That I was just a little embarrassed. You know how Derek and Penelope and Emily and JJ can get. It’s basically just you and Hotch who aren’t jumping down my throat about being, you know, alone,” he says, chuckling awkwardly.

“They just want to help you, Spence. In their own ways, but I’m always on Team Spencer. You never got to worry about that,” Y/N offers, squeezing his hand.

He considers what she says, not responding verbally, but nodding his head. He hasn’t ever had someone on his “team”, so it’s strange. But a good kind of strange.

“Spence, you okay? I wanted to give you something. To be truthful, I’ve been thinking about how I was going to do this for awhile,”

“Ask me what?” he questions, wondering what she has in store. He watches as Y/N rummages in his bag, clearly looking for something. He’s thoroughly confused when she pulls out a TI-84.

“What on earth?” Spencer says, as she places the calculator in his hands. Her sly grin, beaming up at him only further proves his point: his heart just beats faster around her.

“Just shut and press the on button. You’d think that a genius would know how to work a calculator,” she comments, rolling her eyes playfully.

“You know, I never used these. I can just do it in my head faster,” Spencer says, winking at Y/N when she pushes him teasingly.

“God, Spencer just turn it on!” she demands, very apparently getting more and more impatient.

He turns the calculator on and is brought to a green screen that has a picture of a graph. Spencer raises his eyebrow, as if to ask Y/N for the next direction.

“Press the graph button,” she says, getting quieter as Spencer looks at her.

He presses the button that she said to, waiting for whatever is supposed to happen. Spencer watches as the screen draws four black lines running parallel to each other. A curved line is drawn on the first two black lines, forming the letters “P” and “R”. The screen continues to draw, making an oval that looks like an “O” and the last two parallel lines are joined together with a “v” shape, forming the letter “M”. He takes a second glance, reading the 4 letter word slowly.

P-R-O-M

“Well?” she asks, waiting for his answer.

He’s speechless. Spencer blinks. It’s like his brain has stopped working. It’s a prom, a stupid prom that’s 10 years too late. But it’s the girl of dreams that’s asking him. And that’s the stuff those rom-coms he couldn’t pay attention to are made of.

“I mean, of course. Of course, Y/N,” Spencer says, dropping the calculator into the cup holder and leaning in to hug Y/N.

His heart stops again. Falling into that tricky habit of either speeding up or stopping when she’s around. He thinks he’s ready to implode when she pecks his cheek. Her lips don’t linger, hardly touching his skin for it to be considered a kiss.

“I don’t think I’d want to go with anyone else,” she says, mumbling into his skin. She seals his fate with her lips against his skin. Never again will Spencer imagine what it’s like to have her lips against his skin. Even though it’s a fraction of the time he’d want, it’s tattooed in his mind.

“I’m not much of a dancer, by the way,” Spencer says, reluctantly letting go and sitting back into the passenger’s seat, “so don’t expect too much,” he jokes.

“Oh you better watch it, Doctor Reid. I’m getting you on the dance floor, even if you hate it,” Y/N says, smiling as she backs out of the parking spot and turns into the street.

Spencer looks out the window, thinking to himself that there’s probably nothing he can hate if he’s doing it with Y/N.

Spencer didn’t go to prom in high school. He didn’t do a lot of the traditional things that most former high schoolers reminisce about at his age. He didn’t go to football games or have a best friend to make lifelong memories with.

He didn’t have any of that, until now.

But it’s prom night, 10 years late. His hands are sweaty and his mouth feels dry. Spencer wasn’t this nervous for even his first day at the BAU all those years ago. He tries to fix the burgundy tie that Y/N picked out at the vintage store. It looks crooked and twisted. Nothing like when Y/N tied perfectly in the store for him. He supposes that he can wait till she comes to pick him up.

The mirror, again, is noticeably empty without Y/N standing beside him. He can get lost in there, thinking about her standing with him. He does, because it feels like seconds later when he hears a rapid knocking on his apartment door.

Standing on the other side of the door is Y/N. She wears a sage green dress that looks like it’s made of softest silk. He smiles at her, not sure if he can trust his words. Spencer doesn’t think he’ll be able to do much thinking when all he can focus on is the tiny straps that rest on her shoulders or how the sage green compliments her skin tone.

“You look, god. You’re beautiful,” Spencer says, partly under his breath partly aloud to Y/N, “so beautiful,” he says again, focusing on her eyes.

“And you’re looking very dashing in that suit, Spence,” she says, pushing her way in, “do you need help with your tie?” she asks, looking at the tie he holds in his hand.

“Yes, please,” he says sheepishly. He holds out the burgundy colored tie, but takes his hand back as an idea crosses his mind, “oh wait here, I’ll be right back,” Spencer says, walking quickly to his bedroom.

“Alright,” Y/N says sceptically, “Don’t ditch me, Reid!” she calls out from the living room.

Spencer returns, hiding the new tie behind his back. He places an olive green tie with dusty blue and pink flowers in her hands. He notices her smile grow, realizing that he’s picking a new tie for a reason.

“I might not know much about prom, but I think that we’re supposed to match. You know, since we’re going together,” he offers, “but I need help putting it on,” he says.

“We’re going to match!” Y/N says excitedly. As she unbuttons the first button on Spencer’s cream colored shirt he holds his breath. He can’t breathe when she’s this close. Her fingers are quick and nimble as they feed the tie around his neck and elegantly create a knot. If Spencer wasn’t already in love, he knows that watching her eyes twinkle and her tongue poke out as she concentrates would make him declare it then and there.

“So handsome,” she says, using that quiet voice that makes it seem like she’s talking to herself rather than him, “I can’t wait to dance with you,” she tells him tugging the tie.

“I’m not going to be good, Y/N. I’m going to be a fool,” Spencer says, lamenting already about what an idiot he’s going to look like in front of Y/N.

“That’s nonsense, Spence,” Y/N says, waving him away with a toss of her hand, “You’re going to be the best dancer there,” she tells him rubbing her hand up and down his arm, like she did at the store.

“Would you believe it, if I told you I never danced with anyone?” Spencer says, being the most honest and true he’s ever been.

“We can change that,” Y/N says, stepping towards Spencer and linking her hand in his. She squeezes, restarting and stopping his heart all in one go, “oh wait we need music,” she says, feeling around for where her phone usually is.

“I got it,” Spencer says, stepping away from Y/N. He walks over to the small record player in the corner of his living room. He doesn’t play it too often, the records he has were once his mother’s and they’re too painful to play most days. But Spencer’s sure that he can make every exception to all his rules for Y/N. Maybe he’ll get some happy memories out of it.

“Going old school I see,” Y/N says, teasingly as Spencer walks over grabbing both his hands in hers, “everything about you is very charming, Doctor Reid,” she says, softly swaying to the jazzy tunes of Sarah Vaughan.

“I’m not too sure about that,” Spencer says, following Y/N’s lead as she floats around his living room, carrying him everywhere she goes. She rests her head against his chest and Spencer swears that she’s going to get a concussion from how hard his heart beats.

They’re alone, no audience to witness the moment that Spencer wonders if he can dare to call intimate. It’s intimate to him because every moment with Y/N is intimate. Maybe if someone had told Spencer that dancing like this could bring pure paradise all the way from your fingertips to your eyelashes, maybe he would have done it sooner.

“You’re quite the romantic, Spencer,” Y/N says as the song comes to a close. The record player stops, but they don’t stop swaying, “And you told me you couldn’t dance,” she scoffs lightly, with her head still resting against his chest.

“Is that okay with you?” He asks, “me being romantic,”

“I don’t think that I’d want it any other way, Spencer,” Y/N says, removing her head from his chest and her hand from his. She cups his face, touching him lightly. Y/N holds him like he aches to be held. It’s gentle and tender, yet leaves him desiring more.

“Honest?” Spencer asks, daring to be brave.

“Truly,” she responds.

Spencer shifted slightly, so he can also hold her face in his hands. Y/N drops her hands though, wrapping them around Spencer’s waist to pull them closer together. Spencer’s phantom fingers are like that dance around that dance around Y/N’s skin.

It’s Y/N that initiates the kiss. She moves in slowly and tenuously, looking just as nervous as Spencer is. He’s shaky slightly, the anticipation getting to his head when all he can see is Y/N’s eyes looking into his and all he can think about is how soft her skin is. It’s all he’s ever wanted to think about. Her lips are soft and pillowy.

But it’s more than that.

Kissing her is everything to Spencer. It’s the breathy sighs she lets out as he moves his hands and rests them securely behind her neck. It’s the peachy scent of her perfume that’s so sweet and strong it should be overwhelming when all it is, is intoxicating. Kissing her is dizzying and terrifying, but wonderful and sweet. He can’t tell where his lips start and where her’s end, but it doesn’t matter.

He doesn’t open his eyes because he knows he’s facing the mirror. But unlike before, he doesn’t need a mirror to know what he’s looking at. He can look into his soul for that.

“Very romantic,” Y/N says, smiling through the quick kisses she plants on his jawline, “I always thought you’d be a romantic,” he tells him.

Spencer brushes his thumb over Y/N’s bottom lip. It’s puffy and bitten from his kisses, but he thinks that it would be a shame to not bite and kiss it some more. He smiles so hard he knows that he’ll wake up in the morning and his mouth will hurt. But that’s the least of his worries if Y/N’s there to kiss it better.

“Honest?” Spencer says, calling back to the song, that’s now their song.

“Truly,”

---

TAGLIST (ADD YOURSELF HERE)

@shemarmooresfedora @willowrose99 @calm-and-doctor @spideygenius @measure-in-pain @nomajdetective @spencerreid9 @saspencereid @laurakirsten0502 @winifrede @muffin-cup @idonotexiste @pastelbabygirl19 @strawberryspence @g0lden-cth @spookydrreid

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fics #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader happy ending #spencer reid x reader one shot #spencer reid deserved a happy ending #criminal minds fanfiction

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neoheros · 5 years ago

Text

sneaking out headcanons feat. gym 3 squad ♡ — also this is all gonna be set in an au before or without the quarantine, so don’t leave your house please!! social distancing is important and people are dying!!

kuroo tetsuro

listen LISTEN

sneaking out is terrible and you should never do it because it’s dangerous and risky

and you as the woke and understanding gen z that you are definitely respected that

but , BUT , BUUUUT !

the minute your boyfriend snapped you a photo of him in his car with him rubbing his tired eyes captioned “couldn’t sleep, dreamt of u”

your morals were OUT THE WINDOW and now it was your turn >:// !!!

kuroo: i know it’s 4 am but what’re the chances you’d hop out for a quick trip to chick-fil-a 👉👈

you, purposely taking two minutes to reply: why are you still awake

kuroo, who knows you like the back of his hand: babe don’t lie to me, it’s embarrassing for the both of us x

so you agree !! because it was kuroo, the love of your life, the man you’d simp for, and he’s paying for food so hell fricken yeah

you throw on a hoodie, lock your doors, fluff up the bed to make it look like someone was sleeping in it just in case and you gently make your way towards your window

due to personal reasons, you want to pass away

you suddenly remember why you hated sneaking out and boy — the food kuroo was buying you better be worth it

the only way you were actually gonna get down from your two story house that idiotically doesn’t have a roof ledge was if you grab onto the tv satellite that latched by the sill

from your window you see kuroo’s car parked by the trash cans near your house and he’s got his windshield down signaling at you

mfer pulled out his phone from his pocket and waved as he zooms closer to your figure and he SMILED ?

you were in a dilemma?? and he had the audacity???? the fricken audacity???

kuroo, snapping you the vid he took: babe please you’re so cute you look like a tiny gremlin

you: had me in the first half, not gonna lie

it was a MOMENT for you !! but you just say what the hell and go for it anyways because you only live once apparently and sneaking out with your boyfriend at 4 am was better than sleeping

you grab onto the satellite ridge and you pray for mercy that it doesn’t make a sound or loosen up because if anyone found out you were doing this it was definitely kuroo’s ass on the line

while you’re struggling to get down, kuroo’s just in the car ??? laughing his ass off at your current state and you swear that he’s still taking photos

you get down on the cement safely and instead of him pulling up closer to your drive way naaaah he makes you walk to where he was at 😤

you, getting in the car: if i dump you by the end of tonight, just know that the only reason why i didn’t do it sooner is because i wanted food

kuroo, putting on your seatbelt: we’ll get back together in the morning, i’m not worried

so the two of you make your way to chick-fil-a, get food via drivethru and eat in the parking lot with the doors open and the windows down

he still looks very tired and before you even realize it it’s already 6 in the morning

you catch him yawn every few minutes and he always reassures you that he didn’t mind staying up this late :(

he’s baby

kuroo: lets get you home, are you gonna dump me yet?

you, kissing his cheek: no, i kinda love you

kuroo, less sleepy with a lazy smile on his face: aha simp

tsukishima kei

bro if you think he’s a goody two shoes boy who won’t ask you to sneak out at like 2 in the morning , you are so wrong

canonically, he is the most devious and logical character in the entire anime and if he wants to go out with you before the crack of dawn — he fricken will !!

he’s gonna be so sly about it too, nah, he gon make you think it’s your idea to sneak out

tsukki, texting you a tiktok of homemade shrimp rotini at 2:35 am: look what yamaguchi sent me

yamaguchi, who fell asleep three hours ago and absolutely is not in any state to send tiktoks:

so you’re there like ??????

bruv you were just tryna scroll through your twitter feed in peace, why the hell would he send you that like that’s so uncool

because now you were sleep deprived and hungry

you, close to tears: does your house in hell have a pool or

tsukishima, unnerved: i don’t like the concept of swimming

he’s gonna go on about how he didn’t realize what he did and how he’s kinda sorry for waking your hunger but you weren’t born yesterday !! you smelled BS !!

so you facetime him, ready to go off on how unsorry he is and you can already imagine the shit eating grin he must’ve had on

he answers after three rings and he’s in a MFING yellow hoodie with the dinosaur print in the middle, his hair neatly tucked and you just know that he’s got his keys on his fingertips

you, defeated: i’ve been played

tsukishima, heading out the front door: i deny all accusations

you’re not even upset though because this was a perfect opportunity to try the stability of your roof ledge and tbh? who wasn’t unreasonably hungry at 3 am

turns out climbing out your window was harder than you thought and you may or may not have gotten two new bruises on your wrist just by trying

safe to assume that you fell on your ass and since the universe has a particular hatred towards you, your boyfriend arrived at the perfect time to witness all of it

tsukishima: how are you gonna kiss me when you’re too busy kissing the ground

you, tears on your cheeks: if i wanted a bully instead of a boyfriend i would’ve SAID SO

when you get in his car, the first thing he does is ask if you’re okay though and he’s checking your wrists and hands for any scratches or bleeding because 🥺

tsukki: you’re such a clumsy idiot what the hell

tsukki, kicking down the pavement when you’re not paying attention: 💢🪓

you guys end up going to numerous places because most of the drivethrus in town were already closed

you see him get tired behind the steering wheel and you almost have the urge to offer to drive but you didn’t really feel like crashing his car any day soon so

you: lets just head to starbucks hm? get some coffee?

tsukishima, feeling bad because he knows you wanted to get food: we don’t have to

you, in love with him: if you say no i will willingly walk all the way to starbucks by myself , what , you think i won’t do it

so you guys go there and order a couple double shot espressos with a side of scones and muffins and the entire time you’re just trying not to shiver because name one starbucks you’ve been to that hasn’t been unreasonably cold huh i dare you

he notices this and he gives you his hoodie and ITS JUST THE SOFTEST THING OKAY BECAUSE HE’S COLD TOO BUT HE JUST WANTS YOU WARM

you: i knew it, you love me too huh 😌

tsukishima: unfortunately so

akaashi keiji

AKAASHI IS LEGALLY THE BEST BOYFRIEND IN THE WORLD !!

like he cannot be a bad boyfriend ?? it’s impossible for him to be so ?????? he’s just built that way ????

he’s the ultimate mixture of respect and self love , god was just like “let’s make this one perfect !!”

he’s DRIPPING in love each other juice and he eats kindness for breakfast so ha !

he physically cannot say no to you because he flat out adores you

( except when he feels like you’re wrong or being irrational to which he’ll politely correct you and educate you because that’s on what? that’s on having a healthy relationship ♡ )

so when you hit him up at 5:23 in the morning after a series of tiktoks that he has yet to see and react to you about, he’s kinda alarmed

but then again he’s also not ?? because let’s face it, at this point, he’s used to you spamming his inbox

the last thing you sent him two minutes ago was a text saying “bro just imagine this: you and me at a maccas drivethru with two oreo flurry’s and a box of 20 piece chicken nuggets — immaculate”

and you didn’t really expect him to reply?

it was five am and you were absolutely shit talking but when you saw his face time status go online you were just like ?????

akaashi, snapping you a pic of him under his covers with very tired eyes: it’s 5:27 am

you, sending him back a photo of you and the 2000 piece puzzle you spent the last two hours doing: that’s not a no 💅

he doesn’t reply and you’re not really upset by it because he probably just fell asleep and that was really cute to you so !!

but then two minutes later he’s facetiming you and you JUMP at the sudden ringing

he’s all tired and his voice is groggy and tight but he’s still smiling as he says “i’ll see you in ten”

YOU ARE !!!! PUMPED !!!!!

you won the boyfriend lottery , holy hell

now the only thing keeping you from seeing your man and the mcdonald’s sign was the eleven foot gap between your window and the solid concrete

you’d usually take the stairs but you just know that your mom would absolutely murder you for trying to sneak out when you should be asleep 💆‍♀️

it was either climbing out by clawing through the pipes or not being able to give akaashi a hug and you were not gonna let that second one happen

akaashi, after reading your two paragraph rant on how unnatural it was for your window to be that high: please be careful

you, haven’t slept in 32 hours: screw careful ! i embody elegance !!

in which elegance was screaming every time your pipes squeaked because dear mercy you did not want to die yet

akaashi, who just pulled up your drive way and is now seeing you almost fall to the ground:

you, on the verge of tears: please catch me

AND he does 🥺

it was a close call and he barely even made it to you when you chose to let go but HE DID ANYWAYS

you kinda fell on him rather than landing smoothly in his arms but that’s okay you were just glad you didn’t die

when you both get in his car, he just takes a hot sec to dust you off and ask if you’re okay and he’s so concerned please tell him you’re fine

he’s such a baby please i can’t believe this shit

the two of you end up in a mcdonald’s parking lot with doja cat blaring on the radio and you guys do your best to hold back your laughter as you eat

it was pretty cold and the sun was rising but honestly you couldn’t find the urge to care since the moment just felt so surreal

you: i’m sorry for waking you btw 🥺

akaashi, showing you his new lock screen which is the picture he took of you when he first saw you climb out the window:

you: i’m less sorry

bokuto koutaro

BOYFRIEND OF THE MFING YEAR

i accept no arguments, go cry about it

i literally don’t care what anyone has to say, bokuto is the only man ever ? he’s so deserving of every right on earth i’ll cry

the way that this is the third night in a row he’s stayed up til 4 am and he’s not even alarmed about it

like at this point he’s just accepted that he is nocturnal and that’s that on that !

before he actually had the idea to ask you to sneak out for him, he debated whether or not it was worth it

you needed sleep and you barely got any so when he knew you were resting he absolutely refused to message you :(

but then he also thought about how you would love to have a large dunkin iced coffee right now

and he was already getting ready for his morning fix so why not just ask harmlessly?

if you weren’t going to respond then he’d be okay with that because he knew that you were resting well

but if you were going to answer his consecutive texts with a positive reply then HE IS 🥺 over the moon

you, barely awake: can we get a venti triple shot latté instead , my caffeine tolerance is SHOT

bokuto, snapping you back within a minute: babe you are delusional if you think i’m gonna let you drink that

so it’s 5 am and your parents are in the other room asleep but you know that their jobs start pretty early so you had to get a move on

your room wasn’t that high from the ground to be honest, so you weren’t really worried about falling off

what you were worried about was how dizzy and out of depth the melatonin gummies made you because in order to fall asleep you took 3 and now that you basically forced yourself out of a self induced coma, your body was on the verge of passing away

bokuto tells you that he doesn’t mind if you’re not up for the trip and he’d just bring you back your coffee BUT NAH

you’re not a quitter 🤬 you miss your boyfriend and you are gonna do whatever it takes to spend some quality morning time with him !!!!!

so you throw on a proper outfit, make your way through your window and gently do your best to refrain from yelping every time your hand would slip from the railing that’s keeping your balance

bokuto, pulling up seeing you on your roof: you’re so strong 🥺👉👈

you, barely alive: all for you baby ❤️

he helps you get down from where you stood and he had the prettiest smile on earth i SWEAR when you immediately sank in his cold chest

he apologizes for making you sneak out like that BUT NUH UH YOU DO NOT LET HIM

he is a gift !!! and you knew how tired he must’ve been too since he kept yawning but he still took the time and energy to pick you up 🥺

he fastens your seatbelt in the car and puts the windows up because he knew that the air would get in your face and you didn’t like that

he even brought you a spare hoodie of his because he remembered how much you swooned over this particular fabric

bokuto: we’ll get you some coffee but you can sleep while i drive, ok babe?

you, trying not to cry: are you single because i really want to kiss you

bokuto, kissing your cheek: i’m dating someone i’m sorry

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noritoshiikamo · 4 years ago

Note

Headcanons for the cursed womb siblings when they ship you and choso please 🌝 but choso is like a “job first, love later” kind of guy. He is responsible👏 He wants to support his siblings first👏 But they want nothing more than for their brother to have a lover.

modern au! office worker choso x reader no warning, just fluff. death painting brothers are normal humans, choso is just oblivious, reader is in love anywaysssss okay, i know it said headcanon but i went overboard and i cant help it anymore, choso brainrot tagging: @booksweet , @fushigurocockslut, @lazy10ieiri, @sassyeahhhh, @cotton-curse, @thevoidwriting, @dukinaxael

- job first, love later

you were the first girl choso ever brought home.

except it was by accident. your car had broken down in front of the office and you being typically you, had no idea what had happened to your shit car. “stupid, stupid!” you cursed, opening the front of your car, watching as puff of smoke escaped. you panicked, you never had anyone told you what to do with your car and such.

you were the only child in your family, your mother passed away when you were just a child and your father disappeared. you were sent away to a distance relative, the gojo where you grew up with satoru and his adoptive brother, megumi. but they are useless as a lump of coal. “y/n, are you okay?” you whipped up your head, wiping the dripping sweat off your worried head as you were greeting by a familiar face.

“oh, choso, thank god, do you know anything about car? i cant figure out why wont it start,” you cried clutching on his white sleeve before shrieking. you watched at your fingers left black smudges on his shirt, panicked overwhelmed you as you realised you just ruined the chance for help by ruining your savior’s shirt. but choso only laughed, brushing your panicked look aside and handed you his briefcase. “how long has it been like this?” he asked as he rolled his sleeves, you shrugged. “10 minutes? i think.”

“do you have any cloth i can use to check the coolant?” he asked. you nodded and headed to back, throwing the briefcase in the backseat. coming back with an old rag, you were surprise when choso grabbed your wrists. your face warmed up as he twisted and turned your hand, “did the steam hit your hand?” he asked, glancing up to your face. you shook your head and handed him the cloth. you watched as he did his thing, in 5 minutes he had the engine running and the temperature meter down.

“please, cho, let me sent you home. as a thank you!”

he smiled, “you don’t have too, i can take the subway.”

“i insisted!” you exclaimed, “plus i have your briefcase! aha, you need it so if you want it you have to let me drive you home. please?” you insisted, throwing a puppy face as you clutched both hands to your chest. he exhale heavily, before holding out his hand. your brow shot up in confusion, you placed your hand on his larger palm. you looked up to the older man, a small smile on his face. he was holding his laugh. “your car keys, y/n. lemme me drive you home at least,” he clarified, causing you to mentally slap yourself. the keys exchanged hands and you get in the passenger’s seat. he's a careful driver, he used the blinker and didn’t speed, you felt instantly safe under his care.

“do you live alone, choso?” you asked your coworker. he shook his head, “i live with my younger brothers, eso and chizu. our parents died a long time ago.”

“oh, same. my parents died a long time ago. i’m their only child. my uncle took me in, he’s like a brother to me,” you explained, reminded of your childhood growing up with satoru. he might not be an ideal father figure but he loves you like his own sister. the car slowed down in front of block A of some apartment. “you live here?” you asked glancing around. his apartment is definitely on the lower class scale, the building looks like it could be hundred years old with the chipped paint.

“yeah, i’ve been raising my brothers alone. money’s a bit tight, they are still studying,” he explained grabbing his case from the back. “thank you for helping me with my car,” you stopped him, placing your hand on his, “please let me replace your shirt. just tell me the brand and i’ll buy a new one, i’m so sorry.”

choso offered her a smile, waving his hand dismissively. “it’s okay, i can get the grease off easily. i should thank you for the ride instead. i owe you for that.”

“in that case, can i see your home?”

choso looked at you in amusement, his hand reached forward to ruffled your head, “you’re weird, y/n. but okay. a cup of tea won’t hurt.” he was sure that none of his siblings are home, parked the car and let you trailed him as you both entered the lift up to the 5th floor. you didn’t seemed to be bothered by the surrounding, the stray cats and the random pile of garbage, eyes only trained on his back as you trailed him. his house were around the corner of the stairs, further from the elevator with number 532 on the blue door. he pulled out his keys but the door was already opened.

“chizu won’t throw out the trash,” a shirtless guy with a mohawk greeted them, he was instead more surprised to see you hiding behind the man, “oh, who is this?”

“my coworker. she drove me home, i offered her some tea. i thought you two aren't home, clearly i was mistaken,” he mumbled, annoyed that his brothers were actually home. he turned to you who was looking away, he could see speckle of warmth on your face. "y/n, this is eso. eso, go be a decent human being and put on some shirt," choso ushered the man away before calling you in. you could see panic in his face when eso instead announced that choso was bring his girlfriend home to the other brother.

you couldn't help but to laugh.

you stood in front of door 532 ringing the door bell.

you could hear some yelling. someone was telling to get the door, someone yelled that they were busy in the bathroom and someone was angry in the kitchen. you felt conscious, maybe this was a bad time. you placed the paper bag on the floor and prayed you can make it to the stair but door opened. a voice greeted you.

"y/n?"

your steps halted. you turned around, flustered that you got caught. choso stood by the door, apron covering half of his bare body with a spatula in the other. "uh hi, i was just here to drop you something," you pointed to the bag on the floor, absolutely refusing to look up, why is he being so attractive in that stupid apron for, you cussed, "i'm sorry for disturbing your sunday, i'll go."

"is that y/n?" a voice in the background called.

choso looked back and nodding, "yup, it is her." you could see the desperate look on his face before another head popped out from the door. it was his younger brother chizu. he took a bite of the pancake, a wide smile on his face, "what's up, big sis?" the boy with the blue hair greeted her. you shrugged, pointing to the bag that's now in choso's hand. "i was just dropping something, i don't want to disturb your sunday," you shook your head but chizu insisted that you stay for breakfast.

"come on big sis, choso rarely bring any girl over, it actually is exciting to finally talk to someone who isn't as annoying as eso," chizu laced his arm around yours and dragged you through the door. you look at choso for help, the man could only shoot you a sympathetic smile before shutting the door. he followed you, leaning against the door frame of the kitchen as he watched you sat by the table. eso started filling your plate with fresh batch of pancakes while chizu started talking about this band he started to listen. you listened to it attentively, thanking eso for the syrup before he took a seat beside you.

choso took a peak of the paper bag, a small smile on his face when he realised there's a brand-new shirt in it with a sticky note on top of it. i'm sorry, hope this one fits you- the note said. he looked up to back to the table, you started to look like you belong there. the house has always been empty, it was just him and his brothers. you're just like a bouquet of fresh flowers sitting in a vase in the middle of the table; breath of fresh air to the kusozu family.

"pancakes, choso?"

your voice disturbed his thoughts. "tchh, choso, why you're looking at y/n-chan like that?" eso threw a spoon playfully at the older sibling as he walked to the table, "say, y/n, choso didn't do anything sexual to you or anything right? as your brother i'm worried," your eyes widened as you choked on your drink. chaos ensued in the house as choso threatened to murder the middle child, chizu could only sit back and enjoyed as you tried to calm him down while eso's obnoxious laugh echoed the small apartment.

"you better apologize, you broomhead or i'll murder you!"

eso stuck out his tongue, dodging the flying cup, "never!"

"i got something for chizu. would you mind giving it to him?"

you peaked your head in his office, waving another paperbag in hand. choso took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose, "you don't have to spoil my brothers, y/n. they are already a brat without you." you rolled your eyes and placed the bag on his pile of paperworks. "my younger brother, gumi- he knew the band's drummer, y'know the band he's been talking about and got a signed album for me. i'm not a fan so i figured chizu would've enjoyed it better than me." he peaked through the paper bag, a small smile on his face as he thanked you. you both sat in silence, you felt like you were disturbing the man so you excused yourself.

"y/n," your hand froze on the handle, "how can i pay up for everything nice you've done to us? i feel like it's unfair that you're doing all this nice things and i don't want to owe you anything." your turn and watched as the man walked close to you. choso looks handsome as usual, the blue tie matched his eyes while his slightly longer hair is slicked back. you recognized the shirt he's wearing, you bought it for him and it was nice of him to wear it to work.

"would like to go for a coffee with me?" you asked boldly.

"it's a date."

"it's not a date," choso sighed, combing his hair back.

"it is," eso crossed his arms on his chest, "she asked for a coffee and you said it's a date. bro, it is a date." the younger brother shook his head, motioned for him to part his hair. "slicked back make you look like you're going to office, yuck. if we wanna impressed big sis, you gotta look better than this."

"it's still not a date," choso protested, "it's just a coffee meet up."

the doorbell rang.

"yeah, it's not a date when you spend an hour worrying over your hair, cho," chizu ran to the front door, waiting at the door was you. you didn't have to go up and fetch him at the door, but you actually enjoyed meeting his brothers you didn't mind the hassle anymore. "damn, y/n, you dress better when you're not going to office," chizu complemented you. you could only shake your head, pocketing your hands in the plaid skirt that fell just at your knees, "i only dress up to important stuff, job sucks ass, i ain't spending my good outfits going to work," you kicked off your boots and walked in.

"you listen to that cho, at least she knew that this that is important!"

your eyes widened at his word and the younger brother dodged your fist easily. choso peaked through the door, a smile grew on his face when his eyes caught yours, "huh, i didn't realise we are going to colour coordinate," he said, stepping out. you realised that you both had accidentally matched each other's outfit, speckles of warmth spread all over your face when you noticed how it looks like. chizu, being the loose lip took the words right out of your head, "you both look like you're dating."

"we are not dating!" both of you exclaimed immediately only for eso and chizu to share a look.

"stop that," choso warned, disappearing into the kitchen, "tea, y/n?" you yelled a yes before following him. "don't mind them, they are being an idiot." you watched as he poured sugar in a cup with teabag, before putting the kettle on. "i don't mind," you shrugged it off, fidgeting nervously with the corner of your blouse. the comforting silence that engulfed both of you were short lived.

"oh, choso, i actually want to tell you that i like you!"

chizu's soft voice easily imitated your voice, something you took offended off. you turned around to see the two brothers perched on the kitchen hatch. "i do not sound like that!" you gasped. it was eso's turn, coming through with his rendition of choso.

"oh, y/n! i like you too, but i'm just dumbass and refuse to admit my feeling!"

"i will not hesitate to sent you back to mom and dad," choso warned.

"i also think that eso is way good looking that i am, but i'm scared that he will swoop you away from me," eso continued, at this point even you couldn't hold your laughter as you pressed your palm over your mouth. "what you laughing for, y/n?" choso's eyes narrowed as he glanced at you, huffing in annoyance. "hey! don't be mad at me for laughing, he did it well." you could see his own cheeks growing redder and redder with every mocking.

"go away, boys," you shushed them, walking to choso's side as he poured the hot water in the cup. resting against the counter, you thanked him when the cup exchanged hands, looking down on the swirling liquid that you didn't realise choso's fingers hooking under your chin, tilting your face up. all you realised was his soft lips against yours.

you are kissing your coworker in his kitchen.

"cho-" you whispered between the kiss but he hushed you, his hand now resting against your waist pulling your closer, deepening his kiss, "don't mind them." you tasted like your chapstick, his kiss was soft but it was enough to leave you breathless in his arms. you look in each other's eyes, a new realization to what had just happened had you both flustered.

"god, if our shit imitation would've finally made you both realise that you two dumbass like each other, we would've done this months ago," eso snickered. the two brothers had moved from the hatch to the table, heads resting on hands watching the new lovebird. "would you mind waiting for 5 minutes while i murder my brother? i promise it won't take long, then we'll continue with our date," choso asked quietly, brushing a stray hair off your cheek as you brought the mug to your lips, hiding the small smile behind the cup as you nodded. you watched amusingly, sipping on your tea as the two brothers ran around the small apartment, yelling profanities while chizu hugged you.

"welcome to the family, big sis."

you ruffled his blue hair, your cheeks hurt but you just couldn't stop smiling, "if it wasn't to you, i don't think i wouldn't even dare to speak my feelings. so, thank you. the voice acting was shit tho."

"you thank us, you hate us, geez, big sis, make up your mind," chizu teased you, winking as he brushed it off as a joke, "you help us a lot, i never seen choso so happy before. he worries a lot. about us, money. it was good sometimes to see him put himself first," chizu shrugged, cheek resting on your shoulder, "we survived before, we'll survive now. choso has nothing to worry about. you too, we are alright, okay?"

you nodded, resting your cheek on his head, heart overwhelmed with love for you newly found family, you felt belonged here.

#writing: request answered #writing: fics #choso #choso x reader #choso x y/n #choso fluff #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso imagine

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serendipitous-posts · 4 years ago

Text

Sacrifice you for nothing

Tubbo and Ranboo get a history lesson

title from Ain’t No Crying by Derivakat

"Damn" Tubbo says, staring up at the ceiling. "That chandelier really is fighting you every step of the way, huh?"

"And it's winning" Ranboo adds.

Foolish, hanging from the ceiling as he fixes the corner piece, glares down at him. "It is not winning" he hisses "I won't let it win." That declaration would have been a lot more solid had he not squeaked as the chandelier rocked dangerously.

If that fell and broke he would actually lose it.

Tubbo has no mercy for him. "You must hate that chandelier right now" he mocks "must be your least favourite thing in the world."

"Nah" Foolish grips a small chunk of gold carefully in his teeth to avoid breaking it "that would be cults" he mumbles. There's a brief bit of quiet below and then;

"Oh yeah, I heard that the Eggpire wrecked your buildings or something."

Chandelier finally fixed (for now) Foolish drops to the floor, a fall that would have shattered anyone elses ankles but just leaves him slightly winded. "Nah" he says "I've run into cults before; one's way worse than this one."

"Worse?!" Ranboo exclaims "worse than the parasitic chicken embryo?!"

"Far worse" Foolish confirms body language completely relaxed despite such a dark topic

(but outside the seas begin to froth and bubbles, rapids forming and pushing and pulling, crashing against teeth sharp rocks and punching away at the cliffs surrounding it.)

"they seem to keep popping up wherever I go. I-

(hate them hates them with everything he is and everything he is supposed to be divine blood in his body but he can't save them can't protect everyone can't heal everything some things can't be reversed)

"really don't like them. They suck."

(I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so so sorry, I can take your broken pieces and stitch them back, back together and it won't be the same but it will be similar and that is all I can give you)

(the totem in Ranboo's back pocket begins to burn)

"I'll say" Tubbo agrees, then, with childlike curiosity and teenage macabre "which one would would you say is the worst?"

Foolish falls still.

(the sea falls still. the totems stop burning.)

(it is somehow worse)

"Probably the one made for me" he says at last.

The story goes like this; there's a village that prays to him daily. It's not that uncommon really; he's the God of the Ocean and the Undead. People pray to him for safe passage on the seas or to help them find a totem.

But the people in this village are- to put it bluntly- really fucking annoying.

It's not uncommon for people without totems to pray to him for hours on end, begging him to revive their loved ones, but these guys have turned it into an art form, any and all hours of the day, banging around in his head.

And when words don't work, they turn to physical ways to show their devotion to their God.

Silly little mortals, trying to gain his favour with dead animals and trinkets, trying to gain his favour. He already gave them a way to cheat death, all they have to do is grab a totem. Why do they want another?

They have all they need to survive. He painstakingly carved those totems. He will not give too much of himself.

(lord foolish please my mother is gone i want her back lord foolish you can bring my husband back lord foolish fix this fix her i know you can)

So he ignores the animal sacrifices and the pretty trinkets offered to him in exchange for reviving a daughter, a son, a wife, a husband. He cannot revive the long dead, he learned that a long time ago.

The only real bearable one in the village is the child, and he doesn't even think the child knows what he is the God of, really, which is odd considering the inordinate amount of statues in the town. Whenever the child prays to Foolish, it's never about a dead loved one or the sea, it's always about what the child did that day. Foolish feels more like a diary than a God in those moments.

And at least that's interesting

(mister foolish i learned how to spell flower the other day f-l-o-u-u-e-r mister foolish i saw a dead cat on the side of the road the other day)

(mister foolish are you ever lonely)

The humans grow more and more frustrated with his complete and utter radio silence, and while he's out their festivals to him grow more and more complex, the animals growing bigger, rarer, more impressive.

(i offer you this ender dragon egg this elytra this nether star this emerald ore this music disc)

He's not gonna lie; the person who built that beautiful cottage had him for a solid minute.

But he's not really paying attention to any of that; he's not the only God to have festivals and sacrifices in his name. Definitely not gonna be the last.

(what do we have to do to bring back our loved ones?)

He's just happy to build.

Bargaining is a stage of grief, but so is acceptance, and they must learn to accept this.

(except their not accepting it, the town is just growing angrier, more desperate, going bigger and bigger, hunting animals around them to extinction.)

The first time they kill a human, he's pretty sure it's an accident. An old man, long past his time, probably just died from shock or disease.

They put his body on the altar and offer him up to him, not to revive but as a sacrifice. He arrives, cloaked in illusions as thick as the fog around the town. He still sees Death though, watching sedately from where she's sitting on the wall, her angel beside her.

They're gone in the next moment.

The town never buries the old man, keeps him on the altar, and, after three days, Foolish takes him, takes him far away to an old field and buries him there.

(the leader of the town finds the missing body and smiles. their god has accepted their gift)

He hopes it's a one time thing

(because what did they do to that man how could they these humans these ants small and painfully easy to kill but flocking together working together how could they turn on one of their own)

(because what would he do then?)

(after the man disappears from the altar, the child prays to him again, telling him the man's name, and how he once stopped the child from getting a rash from poisonous flowers. he liked violets the child tells him)

(maybe the child really does know what he's the god of. maybe the child's just lonely.)

He doesn't know what exactly triggered it. Maybe they saw the child trying to make conversation with a God instead of praying to one. Maybe the child, in the way all children are, said something controversial, maybe about the man who was left on the altar to rot.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

He isn't there when the child is dragged out onto the streets, and dumped at the feet of the altar in front of the whole town, trembling and shaking. And the child is a child but is no fool, has seen the sacrifices has seen what has happened, and does what any scared child will do-try to run.

And at the same time the child tried to back away, the leader swung his sword, and the whole town watched as the child screamed, eyes bloodied and slashed from the blade.

(he had been aiming for the neck)

(not a fighter, that leader)

"A life for a life!" The leader exclaimed and swung again.

(the child collapsed on the floor and the crowd pressed in, eager to watch as they choked and gagged on the blood spilling out of their torn open throat, arms scrabbling into the ground like a beetle like a cockroach like an ant whose colony had turned on it)

And- and then-

And at the same time the child tried to back away and the leader swung his sword, the child had had one last panicked, desperate thought.

(mister foolish, they're gonna kill me)

And at the same time-

And at the same time the leader slit the child's throat, a golden clawed hand grabbed him by his.

"So yeah" Foolish says. "Cults are, like, the worst."

Ranboo and Tubbo continue to stare at him. "Uh" Ranboo says, then promptly stops talking.

"Did you . . kill them?"

He nods, bouncing on his feet a little. "Yeah" he smiles "good times."

The two teenagers both look like they don't know what to do with that.

"Well, at least they deserved it" Tubbo offers up attentively, and Ranboo nods

"Can't believe they executed a child. Nobody deserves to die like that" Ranboo mutters and Tubbo winces beside him.

"Y-yeah" Tubbo agrees nervously, twining his hands together "that poor kid. Hope it was peaceful."

Foolish blinks at them. "Wait, what?" Then he replays their entire conversation and laughs.

"Laughing at a kid's death" Ranboo notes, before turning to Tubbo "why are we letting him near Michael again."

"No, no" Foolish waves his hands "you misunderstood me; the child didn't die."

"You guys do remember I'm the God of Undying, right?" He raises an eyebrow at them both. "I healed the kid's neck wound right up." Ranboo just blinks at him in that slightly unsettling way that only an enderman can do.

"I thought you didn't revive people personally."

Foolish glances outside, past the both of them. "This was different" he says "this was-"

(my fault my fault i turned a blind eye i could have stopped this sooner you choked and gagged and cried out for anyone to save you but in the end the motivation for your murder had to step in.)

"-an exception."

"Good for you!" Tubbo cheers, shooting his hands in the air vehemently "the whole stinking town is gone and you and the child lived!"

Foolish makes a noise in the back of his throat. "Except the other towns had heard about the towns rituals. And it began to spread."

Tubbo's hands drop. "Oh."

"Yeah" he agrees "oh. But the worst part was the damage done to the child."

"Let me guess" Ranboo says, dry as Egypt. "Traumatised?"

"To put it mildly."

(the child had turned blind eyes towards him, and when he had reached out to grasp the pudgy hand it had recoiled, the small body curling up away from him and he had burned)

(the child hadn't seen or felt the tsunami that destroyed the entire town. but the screams- they had ears)

"But uh" he shifts awkwardly from foot to foot "not just that. I'm the God of Undying, so I can heal other's mortal injuries."

A long pause.

"Their mortal injuries" he repeats.

"Oh!" Tubbo jerks back "oh God! The child's eyes-"

"I healed them" he says, then winces "tried to heal them" he corrects. Better. "But uh, because they weren't fatal they weren't exactly, uh, restored."

(the mirror is broken and the cracks will show even when it's put back together and you'll never see the same way again my fault my fault i'm sorry i'm so so so sorry)

(this is all i can give you i am so sorry only child lonely child i cant take all you pain away but i promise you here and now you will be lonely no more)

"Damn." The closest Ranboo will ever get to a swear.

"It gets worse" Foolish chirps "the other towns found out that a child had been blessed by the Totem God himself. Were very interested in what exactly this child could do."

A long pause.

Then. "Cults" Ranboo says faintly.

"Cults" Foolish agrees cheerfully, thinking of a child screaming in agony with bloodstained eyes and a gashed throat as others looked on, indifferent.

Cults Foolish thinks grimly as that same child is dragged up to be executed by the Eggpire.

#dream smp #c!tubbo #tubbo #ranboo #c!ranboo #foolish gamers #c!foolish #mumza #philza #like #it's not explicitly said but it's implied #eggpire #eret #c!eret #dsmp fanfic #dsmp fic #dream smp fic

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crimsonbastard · 4 years ago

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Okay, Time to deal with this Slut-Shaming thing once and for all!

'Ah … reading magazines under the table as well?' Snape added, snatching up the copy of Witch Weekly. ‘A further ten points from Gryffindor … oh, but of course …’ Snape’s black eyes glittered as they fell on Rita Skeeter’s article. ‘Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings …’ The dungeon rang with the Slytherins’ laughter, and an unpleasant smile curled Snape’s thin mouth. To Harry’s fury, he began to read the article aloud.

“… Harry Potter’s well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart upon a worthier candidate. How very touching,’ sneered Snape, rolling up the magazine to continued gales of laughter from the Slytherins. ‘Well, I think I had better separate the three of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than your tangled love lives.”

“You might be labouring under the delusion that the entire wizarding world is impressed with you,’ Snape went on, so quietly that no one else could hear him, ‘but I don’t care how many times your picture appears in the papers. To me, Potter, you are nothing but a nasty little boy who considers rules to be beneath him.”

This Part clearly states that Snape was trying to rile up Harry alone. He was clearly directing his attention towards Harry and was trying to embarrass him.

Also this is not the first time someone read that Article. Witch Weekly is a popular article created for witches so of course it would've circulated around school and many students and staff might've read it and started forming their own opinions.

To Snape it was disobedience, instead of paying attention to his class the trio were reading magazines. Yes it was unnecessary to read it out loud but calling it Slut Shaming?? Even though he was directing his attention towards Harry?? It is ridiculous.

Molly Weasley herself believed that Article and sent Hermione the smallest Easter Egg there is.

Also it's Snape's job to Protect Harry and he knows that Voldemort is returning as his Dark Mark has started to burn, so his stress was elevated. And now that Harry has entered the Tri Wizard Tournament either Voluntarily or In-Voluntarily, In which chances of getting killed are high Snape got even more fed up, thus explaining his nasty mood in Book Four.

In fact the only incident where a character's Supposed Promiscuity was pointed out was when the Weasley Twins and Ron accused Ginny, their own sister for allegedly being a Slut:

HBP Chapter 6:

Ginny raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Do they work?" she asked.

"Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question--"

"-- and the attractiveness of the girl," said George, reappearing suddenly at their side. "But we're not selling them to our sister," he added, becoming suddenly stern, "not when she's already got about five boys on the go from what we've--"

"Whatever you've heard from Ron is a big fat lie," said Ginny calmly, leaning forward to take a small pink pot off the shelf.

And this is not the only instance,

HBP Chapter 14

“Right,” said Ginny, tossing her long red hair out of her face and glaring at Ron, “let's get this straight once and for all. It is none of your business who I go out with or what I do with them, Ron—”

“Yeah, it is!” said Ron, just as angrily. “D’ you think I want people saying my sister’s a—”

“A what?” shouted Ginny, drawing her wand. “A what, exactly?”

“He doesn't mean anything, Ginny—” said Harry automatically, though the monster was roaring its approval of Ron's words.

“Oh yes he does!” she said, flaring up at Harry. “Just because he’s never snogged anyone in his life, just because the best kiss he’s ever had is from our Auntie Muriel—”

“Shut your mouth!” bellowed Ron, bypassing red and turning maroon.

“No, I will not!” yelled Ginny, beside herself. “I’ve seen you with Phlegm, hoping she’ll kiss you on the cheek every time you see her, it’s pathetic! If you went out and got a bit of snogging done yourself, you wouldn’t mind so much that everyone else does it!”

Ron had pulled out his wand too; Harry stepped swiftly between them.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Ron roared, trying to get a clear shot at Ginny around Harry, who was now standing in front of her with his arms outstretched. “Just because I don’t do it in public—”

Ginny screamed with derisive laughter, trying to push Harry out of the way.

“Been kissing Pigwidgeon, have you? Or have you got a picture of Auntie Muriel stashed under your pillow?”

“You—”

A streak of orange light flew under Harry’s left arm and missed Ginny by inches; Harry pushed Ron up against the wall.

“Don’t be stupid—”

“Harry’s snogged Cho Chang!” shouted Ginny, who sounded close to tears now. “And Hermione snogged Viktor Krum, it’s only you who acts like it’s something disgusting, Ron, and that’s because you’ve got about as much experience as a twelve-year-old!”

And with that, she stormed away. Harry quickly let go of Ron; the look on his face was murderous. They both stood there, breathing heavily, until Mrs. Norris, Filch’s cat, appeared around the corner, which broke the tension.

#pro snape #pro severus snape #snape fandom #snape community #anti snaters #snape defence #snape meta #snape deserved better

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 5 years ago

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The Sight of You (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer’s disturbing dreams about his childhood bring him back to Las Vegas to face two of his childhood’s greatest enemies: his estranged father and his ex best friend.

AN: it’s a friends to enemies to lovers fic! Set in the episode “Memoriam” 4x07

Content Warnings: usual Criminal Minds stuff, mentions of child death, childhood trauma, descriptions of a dead body. Let me know if I missed anything!

Despite seeing Spencer around Pre-k, Y/N did not trot over to talk to him with their brightly coloured rucksack swinging vigorously and violently behind them. They walked faster instead once their parents had dropped them off. Spencer did his best to catch up to Y/N but lost them around the corner in the sea of students seeking their next class. He was meant to be one of them. Adjusting his glasses as they slipped down his nose, Spencer noted that he needed a new prescription before entering his own class and preparing to focus on a subject he was already well-versed in.

It was lunch time when Spencer finally found Y/N. They were sitting at the furthest end of the table in the canteen. But Y/N cowered away from him, his shoulders drawn up defensively.

“Are you OK, Y/N?” Spencer asked before getting to what was more significant to him: “Do you know when you will be free to play again?”

The next sentence out of Y/N’s mouth stung like a nettle. They stood up, their face contorted in their fit, and they pushed Spencer hard on the shoulders.

“Go away! I can’t look at you! You make me feel sick, you and your family!” They cried.

They went silent when Spencer was laughed at by those who heard what was said. Just grabbed their lunch and moved away, leaving Spencer spellbound in the middle of the canteen, heartbroken and with a new opening for a potential chess partner. Maybe that man they saw last week at the park would be kind enough to join him again.

But there was no replacement for Y/N, who now never said a word when they caught a glimpse of Spencer being bullied – only dithering about on the spot before fleeing the scene moments before a teacher would show up.

Spencer was hurt; that hurt warped into hatred when he was next out with his mother and father. They were at the shopping mall and had just bought Spencer his new glasses. Going down the escalator, he saw Y/N. They were smiling and skipping between their parents, a new pair of shoes shiny on their feet.

The second they spotted the Reids, Y/N ducked behind their parents. Spencer could still see their face: brow furrowed, eyes squinting, hands shaking now that nothing was holding them. Their parents didn’t seem to notice. They kept talking and walking even as Y/N stopped in time with the Reids stepping off the escalator.

Sudden footsteps running away was what dragged the public’s attention to a suddenly absent child.

“Y/N!” The parents called out as they chased after the four-year-old. They were quick past the Reids, not stopping to say ‘hello’.

Spencer kept his eyes trained after Y/N’s fleeing form, right until his mother’s face came into view. Diana looked saddened; she too was staring after the L/Ns. Turned to his father. William was composed but his eyes were turned down and watering.

For making his parents react like that to their mere presence, Spencer despised Y/N.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

The burning hatred from adolescence staled once Spencer reached adulthood. The protective nature that spawned from it for his mother remained.

Which is why, when Diana Reid casually mentioned Y/N when asked about Riley Jenkins, Spencer froze up.

“You remember Y/N?” He said stiffly.

Diana didn’t notice her son’s change in tone, “Of course, you two were opposites but you got on so well. So sad what happened to them.”

The first guess was that she was referring Y/N’s repeated attempts at running away before Reid cut contact with neighbourhood gossip at age fourteen. He didn’t bother with a second attempt to understand what his mother meant.

“I don’t care about Y/N. I want to know if you remember Riley.”

“And I told you: Riley was a boy you made up.”

“No, Mom, he was a real boy who lived in our neighbourhood, and somebody killed him. And, I don't know, I think-- I think that dad might have had something to do with it.”

“He was real?”

“Yes. And...”

“He was on that little league team, too.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

The whole case was surreal - “case” being a very loose term.

When they got into his office, Spencer thought that perhaps things might simmer down a little. Unfortunately, as soon as his father spoke about their history of similarity in appearance, Spencer’s usual comfort of statistics and facts on the elderly and pets failed to conceal his abandonment issues.

William Reid was clearly affected by Spencer’s accusations, calling the idea of fitting the profile thus being Riley’s killer “absurd”. Furthermore, he was confrontational when asked for access to his files and demanded a warrant. Coupled with Lou Jenkins’ absolute certainty that William was not involved in Riley’s murder and Penelope asking him “you sure about this?” concerning invading the aforementioned files, Spencer was very close to snapping.

“I really wish people would stop asking me that.”

Then there was the envelope posted beneath his motel room door. Suspicious timing aside, there was a brand-new suspect basically handed over on a silver platter. One Gary Michaels whom Spencer couldn’t remember him but he couldn’t be sure that he didn’t know him. Uncertainty being the feeling he hated the most.

This man could fit the profile; his previous of exposing himself to a minor was a precursor to molestation. But that wasn’t what Spencer wanted to hear from the shady file slipped to direct his attention away from William.

Garcia reported back about his father’s drives, “No kiddie porn, no membership to illicit websites, no dubious emails, no chat room history.”

“What about his finances?”

Hotch joined the conversation, “We went back ten years. No questionable transactions that we can find.”

Spencer sighed while Emily decided to crack a joke: “Well, he did buy a ticket to see Celine Dion six months ago, but I think we can overlook that.”

“He’s smart. Is it possible he kept things under the table?” Spencer persisted.

“Well, of course,” Hotch answered, “But from what we can tell, Reid, he doesn’t fit the profile.”

“We can tell you other things about him, if you want to know.”

A peace offering on behalf of Emily. Clearly she had improved after her night out and subsequent hangover. Spencer gave the go-ahead and Emily listed her profile:

“He's a workaholic, he actually logs more hours than we do. He makes decent money, but he doesn't spend a lot of it. He has a modest house. He drives a hybrid. He doesn't travel much. He stays away from the casinos. Um, and according to his veterinary bills, he has a very sick cat.”

“He appears to spend most of his free time alone,” Hotch added, “He goes to the movies a lot, and he reads. And from his collection of first editions, it seems his favourite author is-”

Spencer interrupted his boss, “Isaac Asimov, I remember that one.” He pressed his lips together. They were right; William Reid did not fit the profile.

Garcia piped up once more, “He does have one other major interest. On his home computer, he's archived, like, a ka-jillion things on one common subject.”

“What?”

“You, kiddo. He's got, like, everything that's been published online. Every article you've been quoted in, pieces you've written for behavioural science journals, He even has a copy of your dissertation.”

“He's keeping tabs on you,” Rossi said, That's saying something.”

But Spencer smoothly dismissed this attempt to make excuses for his father, “Yeah, he googled me. That makes up for everything. I'm going to get some air.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

After getting said air, Spencer went to the local bar and began playing an computerised poker game. His paying attention was only to distract himself, clear his head with something he knew he could control. And thankfully, a chance interaction with a lady at the bar spawned the inspiration for a sporadic hypnosis session.

Doctor Jan Mohikian allowed them a session. Reminded of the limitations that a four-year old’s memory could provide, not including the bias he already had as a son and a profiler, Spencer lay on the couch. His feet hung over the end so that his head could be comfortable in a pillow. There was no time for self-consciousness with Rossi in the room observing. He closed his eyes and felt his hand be placed upon Doctor Mohikian’s body.

She spoke low and calmingly, “I want you to hold my wrist in your left hand. And if you should feel any fear, I want you to squeeze, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Go back to the night you were just telling me about. You're at home, in your room. You can't sleep because your parents are arguing.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

His eyes were closed still, but the couch shifted into a bed. His bed. A floor below, the faint shouting between his mother and father was heard. There was someone else there too. A child wailing, and it wasn’t him.

Suddenly his father was at his side, touching his arm, saying, “I know you’re awake. Daddy loves you; you know that?”

Spencer didn’t want to be there, and then it was the following morning.

Putting his glasses, the room fell into focus. His mother was there, she didn’t see him because she was too busy looking out the window. Her body language told him that this was not a meltdown, but what she saw was distressing. She’d been crying. As she walked away into the house, she hid her face as if she knew Spencer was watching and she wanted to hide her reaction from him.

Spencer ran to the window the second Diana had left the room.

His father was in the back garden and burning clothes. A bloody shirt, a tiny cardigan, landed on top of the pile already set alight.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and wake.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

And Spencer was shocked out of the scene, back to the doctor’s couch and gripping her wrist with an iron grip. Rossi was by his side, bringing him back to peace with his voice.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Derek was clearly disturbed that Spencer was very set on his father being a paedophilic murderer as much as he had been that Spencer was taking something that was said after his mother’s fit seriously. He continued however to assist with Rossi in Spencer’s investigation.

As if everything else hadn’t been hard enough, the captain took some time to agree to holding William Reid in custody. Finally, he settled for twenty-four hours. William was as resistant to the questions as he had been upon the initial reunion. All he could say was that he didn’t hurt Riley. Spencer wore him down, getting him to drop the Gary Michaels bomb plus the threat that he “didn’t want to go down that road”.

Garcia’s search of Gary Michaels’ DNA on the databases brought to light that their suspect was dead. Buried across state lines, beat over the head with a pipe or bat, and the body was discovered in 2001.

“Maybe it wasn’t Riley’s blood on the clothes he was burning.” Derek was about to hang up when Garcia began to speak again, a new discovery ready for her team.

“Also, Todd found something in your father’s finances. There was a standing order for a therapist, specifically a child therapist from 1985 to 1995. I thought it was for Spencer, but William left when you were twelve, and these sessions continue irregularly after he left you!”

“Who was the patient?”

“One Y/N L/N. Local to North Vegas, born 1980 to Shelly and Finley L/N.”

Both Rossi and Derek looked away from the phone to Spencer and he knew. He knew he’d have to face another villain from the past – like a knight in one of Y/N’s stories.

“Still alive?”

“Yep, already pulling up an address. There’s a lot of short leases attached to this name. Lucky for you, they keep going back to live with their parents.”

Spencer wasn’t entirely sure that he could handle two bitter reunions in one day.

“We’ll send off the fingerprint while we visit Y/N. They could have been a potential victim of Michaels before he died. They might know something.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

It was a normal home in a normal neighbourhood. Spencer had never visited Y/N’s house. Their play-dates were always at the park.

“Hello, Mr L/N,” held up their badges, “I’m Agent Derek Morgan, this is Agent David Rossi and Doctor Spencer Reid. May we come in and ask you some questions?”

“Sure. My wife is uh out at work at the moment,” Finley opened the door wider and stepped aside for the trio to enter, “I’m the house husband as it were.”

Looking about the kitchen, Spencer spied several photos of an adult Y/N but very few of them as a toddler and even less as a teenager.

“You have a child, Mr L/N?” Rossi asked.

“All grown up now, Y/N,” Finley smiled with a nod. Then he squinted at Spencer, “You’re not related to William Reid by chance, are you?”

Masking his bitterness, Spencer said shortly, “He’s my father.”

Finley seemed in awe at the prospect, so Derek redirected the conversation back to the matter at hand, “What was Y/N like as a child?”

Nodding still, like a bobble head, Finley looked weary at the notion, “Troubled. They were very young when they withdrew into themselves. Used to run away from home a lot. I don’t know what happened, but Y/N never told us.” He then jumped to protect his child’s reputation at present, “They’re doing better now, went to therapy and they’re doing very well for themselves.”

“I’m glad to hear.” Rossi replied.

Finley continued his defence of Y/N, “They’re a published author, they write fantasy things for kids and young adults. We’re very proud of them.”

“Did Y/N know Riley Jenkins when they were a child?”

“Riley Jenkins, that’s Lou’s kid who died, right?” Finley sought confirmation and, when he had it, he spoke, “Not personally. I think they might have played at the park once or twice. Before he died, Y/N would play with anyone. But you… you know that.” And Finley gestured to Spencer, much to his disgust.

“Is Y/N in the area?” Spencer asked briskly.

“Well, they’re due for a visit in a few hours. They went on holiday.”

“They still live with you?”

“A month ago, they got a new flat in the city. But they’ve got their own room here, for whenever they need it.”

“May we see it?”

The wallpaper was barely visible beneath exam revision notes, posters of Fresh sheets on the bed and the clear space on the floor were the only tidy things about the place. It was a haven of organised clutter.

A chess set caught Spencer’s eye. It sat upon the windowsill, recently dusted. The pieces were not that of a classic set; each was painted prettily but with enough error to indicate it was a personal touch.

“You and Y/N were close then?” Derek was holding up a photo album. Upon inspection, the photograph the page was open on was of Spencer and Y/N dressed up for Halloween as Doctor Frankenstein and the Monster respectively – accurate to the book of course.

“Yeah, ‘were’,” Spencer turned back to the chess set. He didn’t bother to ask when his friends had figured out he knew Y/N.

Rossi decided to further test the waters, “You think that Y/N could have killed Riley?”

“Of course not. A four-year-old couldn’t kidnap, tie up, rape, and kill a boy their own age. No violent history that indicates they would ever do something like this. Do I think that Y/N knows something about what happened and my father is trying to keep them quiet? Yes.”

Rossi moved beside Spencer, picking up the knight. Except it wasn’t a knight. It was a wizard of some kind in purple robes.

“We’ll stay up here for a bit then go down once Y/N’s inside and settled,” He gestured with the knight to the window. Spencer blanched as he spied a cab at the end of the driveway. The trunk was open and someone was retrieving a suitcase from within.

Y/N appeared around the corner, waving off the cab and turning to the house. Mr L/N appeared on the drive and they met in the middle for a hug. Over Mr L/N’s shoulder, Spencer could see that Y/N had grown into their chubby childhood features. They looked genuinely happy.

He would have to go through with it, but he didn’t have to like it. And he couldn’t go hide in the bathroom like with his father.

The trio plodded down the stairs when the sound of the front door closing was replaced with a joyous gathering in the kitchen. It all changed when Y/N went to take off their jacket and caught sight of the three FBI agents standing in the doorway. Taking out his badge, Rossi led the way.

“Hello, Y/N, I’m Agent David Rossi, this is Agent Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid. We’re looking into the death of Riley Jenkins, and we were hoping to ask you some questions.”

To the naked eye, very little changed about Y/N’s appearance. To the three profilers, there was a visceral reaction: Y/N’s right hand started trembling, the hard swallow, the dropping of their gaze from Spencer to the floor.

“OK,” They said, a great deal quieter than they had been with their father.

Rossi sat next to Y/N at the dinner table. Derek was beside Rossi; Spencer stayed standing. Mr L/N stayed in the kitchen, at Y/N’s request.

“Can you tell us what you remember about Riley?” Rossi began.

“Not very much, I don’t really remember much about school.”

“Oh, you don’t?” Spencer blurted, “Well, I do.”

Derek glanced back at him with a look that just screamed “shut the hell up”. It seemed to cut down Y/N’s resolve, their jaw quivering.

“Sorry, can you give me a moment?” They stood up quick, the chair legs scraping loudly against the floor as they walked just as fast to the kitchen. Through the open door, Rossi, Derek, and Spencer watched Y/N grab a glass from the open dishwasher. The water from the tap hit the bottom of the glass harsh, crashing out like a wave of the ocean hitting a cliff. Y/N didn’t seem to care. Their hand dripped water onto the surface as they chugged back some of the drink before returning to the table with a topped-up glass.

“Are you alright?” Rossi inquired, leaning closer to Y/N.

They answered wearily, “Fine, just feeling woozy.”

“You’re a writer?”

“Yeah, you’re a writer too. My mom reads your stuff before bed.”

“Bit of an odd nightcap,” Rossi said with a little chuckle.

Y/N shared that smile for the briefest of moments, replying “You’re telling me.”

From their pocket, they pulled out some painkillers, popping them back with a slug of water then speaking again. “I remember Riley was smaller than me. Still figuring out coordination, but he liked to play chase. I know he was killed; I didn’t find out how until I looked into it last year.”

“Why did you look into it?” Rossi gently probed.

Y/N rubbed two fingers back and forth across their head as they spoke, “I was back here, I felt sick so I went for a walk in the park, and I just remembered him tripping over while trying to tag me. No one ever told me what happened, just that he had to go away. I wanted to know what happened to him.”

“Are you sick often?” Derek asked suddenly, his voice soft to match Rossi. Spencer grimaced at the treatment Y/N was receiving but said nothing.

“Headaches and stomach aches mostly.”

“You get them whenever you come home?”

“I do. Figured I was allergic to something but never figured out what.”

That would have to be a very quick response, like a dog allergy. And coincidental, seeing as the symptoms didn’t start until they saw Spencer.

“Y/N?” called their father, “Can you come here a moment please?”

“May I?”

“Of course,” said Derek and Y/N was out of the room. Derek pivoted in his chair to include Spencer in his theory, “I think they know something, but they don’t know they know it. I think they repressed this memory like you did, Spencer. We should take him to the therapist, see if we can jog his memory.”

“You can’t be serious,” Spencer covered his face with his hands, dragging them down with irritation.

Derek was persistent though, “Spencer, like it or not, Y/N’s linked to this investigation. Put aside your differences for a moment, please.”

Spencer all but squawked, “Put aside my differences?”

“You have brought a lot of bias to this case. Let us at least pursue this lead.”

“Sorry,” Y/N interrupted Spencer’s retort, sitting back at the table, “He needed someone to get unhook the loft door. Mom usually does it.”

“That’s alright.” Rossi waved a hand dismissively. Once Y/N accepted that, he moved in with Derek’s suggestion, “You know, some people have strong physical reactions to memories, trauma. Maybe you’re not getting sick. You’re rejecting something.”

“Rejecting?” repeated Y/N. There was no doubt in their voice, more cautious curiosity.

Derek nodded, “A memory, repressing it, and your body has linked the physical responses to your home. We think it has something to do with this case, and we’d like to see if we can retrieve any memories you might have. Would you be alright to come with us?”

“Yeah,” said Y/N, though they didn’t sound too certain, “Yeah sure.”

The resigned, too tired look on their face, and Spencer felt a tug in his chest. A longing to see Y/N smile like they had when they first entered the house. He’d rather hate someone who was happy than someone who suffered the same as him.

Leaving the house, Spencer took a deep breath of fresh air.

“Spencer?”

He ignored Y/N’s voice for a moment, but he couldn’t disregard Y/N standing in front of him and speaking again, “Spencer, can we talk please?”

“I’m busy,” He said, already walking off as he pretended to call someone, “Hey Garcia.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

“Hold onto my hand, use it as an anchor, and squeeze when you feel fear.” Doctor Mohikian accepted Y/N’s hand on her wrist and their silence nod as they lay back on the same couch Spencer had been just hours before.

“I want you to think back to your childhood, back to when you were five. You’re at the park, your parents are on a bench watching nearby to keep you safe. What do you see?”

“Spencer Reid.”

Derek and Rossi glanced at Spencer, who did not react. They kept quiet so that Y/N could immerse themselves in the hypnosis.

“What’s he doing?” Doctor Mohikian continued.

“Teaching me chess.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Sat on opposite sides of the table, Spencer and Y/N’s eyes were glued to the chess pieces that were neatly organised between them. Spencer was thinking strategy. He could not say the same for his companion Y/N. They reached a hand out and hovered over the pieces before finally selecting their last knight.

Their tongue clicked as Y/N trotted the piece on the spot.

“What’s this one again?”

“The knight,” Spencer recited, “It moves two spaces up, down, left or right, and another step perpendicular to the first direction.”

“Brave creatures riding into battle,” Y/N narrated before continuing their clip-clopping to its new position, “Pawns in the game of war.”

Spencer didn’t understand how they were coming up with this whilst playing. Well, actually, he did. Because Y/N was clearly not playing to win. They were playing for the best possible story.

“Where do you think this story will end?” Y/N asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying,” said Y/N, pushing back the sleeves of their white cardigan, “Come on, you can tell me, with your magic powers.”

“It’s not magic. It’s logic.”

“That’s magic to me,”

Narrowing his eyes, Spencer decided that he should give his friend the information they sought: “I see checkmate in fifteen moves.”

“See? Magic! The gift of sight!” crowed Y/N, clapping their hands together. The cardigan sleeves fell back in place as they did so. Spencer felt his cheeks heat up; he dropped his head so he could smile in privacy while Y/N began to decide their next move.

“How’s your mommy today?”

Shrugging, Spencer said, “Better than normal. But that means a bad day is around the corner.”

Y/N nodded solemnly. “Do you want another ice cream? I got more birthday money.”

“No thank you.” Spencer moved the piece but was immediately intercepted by Y/N, “You’re getting better.”

“Fank you.”

“You’ll have to wait longer to beat me though.” And he snatched Y/N’s knight away, just as planned and much to Y/N’s dismay.

A new voice from their left spoke, “Hey you’re pretty good.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Y/N’s grip tightened on Doctor Mohikian’s wrist, “Someone’s with us.”

“Who do you see?” Doctor Mohikian asked patiently.

“A man. He’s asking us if he can watch us play, listen to the story.”

“Do you want him to stay?”

“No,” Y/N flinched, “But Spencer keeps talking to him. The man won’t go away.”

“It’s OK, it’s OK, you’re safe, Y/N.”

Y/N flinched again, this time letting out a whimper, “He’s on the floor.”

“Spencer is?”

“No, the man.”

“What’s he doing on the floor?”

“He’s,” Y/N began panting, their face tensing and body jerking, “I can’t get to him. There’s glass in the way and the ground is shaking.”

“Y/N.”

“I can’t look, I’ll be sick! Whenever I see them, sick.”

“OK, you’re going to wake up in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!”

Their eyes snapped open with the click of the fingers and Y/N leapt out of Doctor Mohikian’s couch. Their head aimed over the bin by the door and they retched. Nothing came up but their stomach continued to squeeze up

Spencer fidgeted in his seat, trying his best not to look at Y/N. The choice words of the session, three in particular, wrapped around his head.

“Floor”.

Y/N had seen Gary Michaels inside, somewhere that wasn’t the park.

“Glass”.

A window, Y/N was watching what Gary Michaels was doing.

“Sick”.

“Go away! I can’t look at you! You make me feel sick, you and your family!”

“Them”.

It wasn’t just Michaels in the room alone. They had been a witness to his murder.

Derek’s movement to help Y/N took Spencer out of his analysis. Sweaty, Y/N was led back to the couch, the bin between their legs, head lolling forward. Spencer tried to move beside them for questioning, but Y/N winced and began heaving again. He felt that ache in his chest again. He was causing this and nothing he could do would change that. Not until they both knew what happened to Riley and Y/N got help through it.

“What did you see, Y/N?” Derek asked as he replaced Spencer’s spot beside them.

With watering eyes, Y/N looked at Spencer, “The man we played with, he was on the floor. His head – thank you.” They accepted the water from Doctor Mohikian, gulping some back, “It was smashed in.”

The three agents left the room, Doctor Mohikian following after Y/N left to get some air.

“It’s logical to assume that Y/N tied that sickness, that repulsion because of what they thought they saw your mother be involved with, to you and your family,” Doctor Mohikian evaluated.

Interrupting again, Spencer stammered his way through his analysis, “That’s why they avoided me. They associated me with being ill. It’s probably also why they ran away so much; they had to get away from this horrible feeling they had associated with their home.”

Doctor Mohikian shook her head, “We won’t be able to use this in court, I told you when we started.”

Derek’s phone started to ring. As he answered, Spencer somehow managed to slip away for long enough to find Y/N. They were leaning against the ramp’s railing in front of the practice, their body lifting and slumping with each deep breath they took. Against his better judgement, he moved toward them.

“Y/N? Can I have your number?”

The breathing slowed again.

“I need it to call you with an update on the situation as soon as we get one.”

Without looking up, Y/N pulled out their phone and handed it over to Spencer. He punched his number in a new contact, using this time to gather the courage to maybe say something else. The hurt and pain went beyond him now. Y/N was suffering and had been much longer than he had.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Spencer said quietly, hoping that his didn’t add to the illness, “I hope you feel better soon.”

Their head still down, Y/N croaked, “You too, Spencer.”

“Spencer, get over here! We got a match on a print on Michaels’ body!”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

“What makes you think Gary Michaels killed your boy?”

“He admitted it,” Lou Jenkins said, as monotonous as he had been for the last fifteen minutes of the interrogation.

Derek’s quickfire was on Jenkins instantly, “You beat a guy with a baseball bat, he's going to admit to a lot of things. How do you know he was the right guy?”

“I know. He approached another kid in the neighbourhood.”

“And how do you know that?

“I was told by a concerned party.”

“Who? Another parent?”

Jenkins leant back in his chair, “That's all I'm going to say on the subject.”

“Who was it?” Spencer suddenly spoke up.

Caught off guard at his interjection, Jenkins awkwardly parroted himself, “I told you that's all I'm going to say on the sub—"

Reid slammed his hands on the table, getting right up in Lou’s face, “Who was it?”

The door opened, Detective Hyde appeared, “Agent Reid?”

“Do not interfere with this interrogation, detective,” shouted Spencer, “This is not your case anymore!”

Once again, he was cut off. This time, by the arrival of his own mother, Diana, and her admission of guilt: “Spencer, it was me”.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Of all the things this case had brought him, Spencer least expected to be sitting in a room with his mother and father together for the first time in years. To have Diana explain to him how she was involved in a child’s murder was also up there with the unthinkable.

But he stayed quiet and listened to her confession.

The reveal that she had seen Gary Michaels playing chess with him and Y/N, that she and got a feeling that something was wrong before anything had even happened, opened the story. Lou Jenkins’ involvement was next on the menu. Two days after the chess game, he drove Diana to Michaels’ house, disclosed his history of child abuse, and demanded she leave while he went into the house.

Upon reaching the point where she entered the house, Diana struggled with her words. William reached over and took her hand.

She described seeing Lou with the bat, standing over the body, slipping in the pool of blood, finding Y/N standing in the window and their face, their little face as innocent as the white cardigan that covered their shoulders and absorbed the blood from Diana’s hands as she shook their shoulders.

“And the rest... It's all dark after that.”

William continued for her. Diana came home and brought Y/N with her. Eventually he came to understand what had happened and decided that nobody could ever know.

“You were burning her bloody clothes,” Spencer concluded.

His father nodded, “But the knowing, you can't burn that away. It changes everything.”

“You paid for Y/N to go to therapy.”

William didn’t seem surprised that Spencer knew this, going straight into explaining: “They went into a dissociative fugue state after seeing what Lou had done. When Diana brought them home, they were just stiff. I asked them for their home number, to call their parents, but they started screaming and throwing up. We had to take them to the police station.” He mopped his brow with a handkerchief, “They needed help, but their parents couldn’t afford it. And they didn’t know what had happened. I couldn’t drag another person into this, Spencer.”

“Is this why you left?”

“I tried to keep us together, Spencer. I swear to you, but the weight of that knowledge, it was too much.”

“You could have come back. Could have started over.”

“I didn't know how to take care of you anymore. When I lost that confidence, there was no going back. What's done is done.”

“At least now you know the truth,” Diana made an effort to smile at her son

Choking on his words and the overwhelming remorse he felt, Spencer refused to look at his parents any longer, “I was wrong about everything. I'm sorry.”

And William said something that Spencer had been waiting for, for a long time, “I am, too, Spencer.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

All of this was repeated when Spencer walked with Y/N through their old park the following day. Filling the final gaps in the memory would hopefully bring some respite to them both. Or at least maybe something to start the recovery process, easing Y/N’s sickness and Spencer’s pain.

“I’m sorry for my behaviour during this case,” Spencer sniffed, “When you said we made you sick, back when we were four, I thought you had seen my mom during one of her episodes and thought she was a freak, like everyone else.”

That stopped Y/N in their tracks, their hands coming up to cover their mouth, their eyes misty, “Oh Spencer, I’m sorry too, I’m so, so sorry I caused you so much pain.”

Spencer’s hands rushed up as if to create belated damage control, “It’s ok! I hurt you too. I made you sick.”

“That wasn’t your fault though.”

“It wasn’t yours either. We were kids.”

Almost pedantic, stropping, like a child again, Y/N moaned, “It’s all been such a waste. We could have been friends all this time!”

“We can be friends now,” Spencer pushed his hands down into his pockets to stop them flailing about anymore. His sentence was phrased more like a question.

One that Y/N gladly answered, “I would like really that.”

Sitting in the reply for a moment, Spencer followed up on his concerns, “How are you feeling? I mean, are you feeling sick again?”

“A bit, but I can handle it.”

Spencer could not see any changes in their behaviour from the day before. So obviously they were lying about that. But he didn’t protest. The lie meant Y/N wanted to stay with him, which was good - Spencer wanted that too.

They kept walking, only in silence for half a minute before Spencer broke it again, “I read your books last night.”

“Yeah?”

“‘The Siege of the Lost Faiths’ in Rogue’s Mask, that was our first game of chess.”

“It had by far the best narrative,” Y/N dragged their shoe a little on the grass before coming to a stop, “Do you still play?”

“All the time.”

They nodded over to where the old chess tables still stood, “Fancy a game before you go?”

Spencer grinned, “Just promise that this is the only setting where we’ll be on conflicting sides from now on.”

“Promise.”

Brushing the debris from the table, they both took their places opposite each other. From Y/N’s bag was revealed a box, spilling their painted chess pieces across the board. Remembering how they had stood in Y/N’s room, Spencer helped to set up the match. They took their seats opposite one another. Y/N was the green side, Spencer the purple.

Spencer moved first. After a second’s deliberation, Y/n moved their pawn.

“Isn’t there a story with this one?” Spencer said, an implicated teasing in his tone despite his shyness.

With an equally bashful eye roll, Y/N started their new story, “First begins the battle with the royals on both sides sending intrepid messengers to meet and pass along their deeds.”

Spencer took Y/N’s pawn. As he lifted their piece away, he spoke quietly, “One not as intrepid as the other.”

A gasp dropped from Y/N’s smile. He had never joined in the narrative telling before, always too taken up in the match to invest in whatever story they spun.

“He’s not a coward,” They said, still smiling, much to Spencer’s delight, “Prisoner’s dilemma, he just couldn’t trust the other with his life.”

“Did they know each other before this battle?”

“Yes,” Y/N moved a knight across, stealing Spencer’s pawn, “They were brothers who once shared a crib and now they share a grave.”

Throughout the game, Y/N continued the story with Spencer asking questions just to hear them talk more. The maturity of the stories had grown just as Y/N’s voice had. They knuckled their eyes a few times, but they didn’t complain about the headache.

“I know what endings you like,” Spencer moved his rook, “Checkmate in five.”

Y/N didn’t seem to mind that little dig, “This’ll have to be a short story instead then.”

Spencer’s next sentence got away from him, trailing off the closer he got to the end of it, “You could write an anthology series, if we see each other again and play more games.”

Where Spencer’s voice disappeared, Y/N’s returned with invigoration, “That’s not a half bad idea, Spencer.”

The checkmate never came. Y/N diverted the ending into a draw.

“A peace treaty has been forged by the survivors, because too many lives have been lost to justify this violence anymore. If only they realised sooner that no blood had to be shed for peace to rule the lands.” And they smiled at Spencer, clearly chuffed as they leaned back in their chair, “Bit of an upgrade from the horse noises, I’ll say.”

Spencer rotated the purple knight – the illusionist – between his thumb and forefinger, “I liked the horse noises.”

“You should have said during the match! I’d recreate them, for you.”

One by one, the pieces were placed back into their box until the last piece remained in Spencer’s palm: the knight or Soren the Illusionist, distractions and deceptions but he loved the tricks that delighted most of all. Just like Spencer with his magic tricks but a little to the left. The character was always one of Y/N’s favourites. Some solace away from the pain of thinking of who he was based on.

Y/N pushed Spencer’s hand away, closes his fist around it, “Keep him. He was made with you in mind anyway.”

The information sank in and Spencer’s nose wrinkled with the little smile on his face as he cupped the little Illusionist, “I’m Soren?”

Nodding, Y/N confirmed, “You’re Soren.”

“But what about your set though?”

“I can always make and paint another knight,” and Y/N tilted the piece upside down in Spencer’s hand, revealing the signature on the underside, “You and him are the originals, it’s only fair you stay together.”

In a moment of pure instinct and nostalgia, Spencer clicked his tongue as he twisted Soren in time with the noise. Y/N let out a burst of laughter that dragged the air out of Spencer’s chest.

“Hey, do you wanna get dinner tonight?” He said, running out of breath very quickly as a result.

It had a similar effect on Y/N, “I thought you – don’t you have to get back to Virginia?”

“I have time for dinner. For you.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

The bookstore was packed but the breath of the patrons was held as one. All eyes were watching the mini stage where a crouching figure lifted their head up slowly. A jump as the tension broke with the figure leaping up to their feet with a bang.

Y/N pushed up the brim of their cap. Snatching a deep green hoodie from the purple trunk – silver constellations painted on the sides – they swung it over their back before picking up the page where they had left off.

“Nasima looked up at Mason and said, ‘Well that was just unnecessary.’”

A burst of laughter shot through the pre-teens in the front row, spreading to the adolescents sitting further back who had grown up with the author’s other works, finally reaching the adults at the back where Spencer was fiddling with his cane. He adjusted the sleeve of his costume absentmindedly. He was just like everyone else in the room: captivated by how Y/N was so immersed in their reading.

They had just mimed kicking down a door, plus sound effects from their mouth. Swapping back and forth between the two conflicting characters arguing with one another, changing between the hoodie and the cap with every other line of dialogue and taking both off for the role of the narrator, it was certainly a workout.

An exaggerated breath was drawn into Y/N’s lungs, flopping over in a melodramatic state, which caused another laugh in the audience.

Spencer’s nose scrunched up as he grinned. He knew this was part of the scene; he’d seen Y/N rehearse this story in their sitting room. It was so much better to share this with an audience, for their reactions to fuel Y/N’s energy.

Y/N finished the short story A Battle of Bent Truths with a flourish, leaving the rest of the anthology for their audience to read in their own time. The kids were up on their feet first. Some of them were jumping up and down as they applauded with the rest of the shop. Y/N gave a big grin as they bowed, sweeping their cap off for extra drama.

There was a book signing and a photographer that followed, and Spencer waited patiently at the end of the queue, thankful that the store allowed him to bring a chair along with him. He was happy to entertain his godson and friends with a few tricks to pass the time.

“Another one please!” Henry jumped up and down when Spencer revealed his card.

A minor commotion arose by the photographer’s backdrop. There was a teenager was crying; she was clutching her copy of Untold Tales of Human Nature. Y/N was holding their shoulders, rubbing gently and speaking softly. Only half paying attention to his next trick, Spencer kept an eye on Y/N as they hugged the teenager, looking near tears themselves.

“Spencer?” J.J tapped him on the shoulder and Spencer realised that Henry was looking a little mad to have lost his godfather’s attention so easily.

“Sorry, Henry, can you pick another card please?”

When they reached the front of the queue, JJ went up first and took Henry and his pals up to see Y/N. They instantly recognised JJ and welcomed her with a tight hug. Henry was delighted to see his favourite babysitter and show them off to his school friends, boasting that they had read to him before today.

“They read me bits for bedtime, Mommy!”

“I know!” JJ tickled his cheek, “I read them to you too.”

“Who do you like better?”

“Mommy,”

Y/N gasped, dropping to their knees which made Spencer wince, “Henry, you wound me!”

Rossi approach next, knowing that once Spencer got to Y/N, they would not be left alone.

“You really know how to captivate an audience,” He kissed them on both cheeks, “Though don’t take offence if I don’t use the same tricks at my readings.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it! Thank you for coming.”

Y/N then caught Spencer’s eye and began meandering over to him with a smile they were desperately trying to stifle. Spencer rose from his chair, meeting Y/N in the middle.

“Hi, Spencer.”

With his free arm, Spencer flaunted his cloak, “Who is Spencer? I’m Soren the Illusionist!”

Giggles from his godson, his godson’s gang, his co-workers and friends, they almost caused Y/N to lose their composure. They held on just long enough to continue the banter.

“Oh, forgive me, you look so much like my boyfriend.”

“Hmmm, he must be very handsome,”

And Y/N burst into peals of laughter, waving their hands about, “OK, stop, stop, stop, I can’t.”

“Hey!” Spencer pretended to take offence, pouting as Y/N brought him into a hug.

“Don’t worry,” They kissed his cheek between giggles, “You are so very handsome.”

“To think you were once sick at the sight of me.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #my writing #r: gender neutral #wc: 5k+

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