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ahundredtimesover · 8 months ago

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I Want You to Stay (09) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; use of the term slut in a derogatory way, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 18.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii thank you for being patient, and again for all your love and appreciation for this story. 🥰 Updates will continue to take longer as I return to uni. On another note, I hope you enjoy this!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

Seeing you standing in his kitchen donned in that pastel-colored blouse makes Jungkook stop in his tracks; you’re exactly who he needs to wake him up.

It’s been weeks of vacation, which also means weeks without his usual routine. It’s striking how being absorbed in his work has altered him in that sense - he looks for the stress, for the long hours, for the isolation that’s demanded of his job. Perhaps there was just really nothing to look forward to, and work was an excuse for all those things because there wasn’t much else going for him. Ironic, considering everything he can do with what he has, yet nothing seems to be what he’s looking for, even if deep down, he knows what it is.

This is something that Hoseok and A-yeong made him realize during the trip as he watched them gush about the pretty streets and marvel at the fjords and immerse themselves in the view of the northern lights.

His cousin, the President of the company who makes decisive decisions and conducts press conferences and signs off on billion won projects, is the same man who squealed during a husky ride in Finland, laughed his butt off when he slipped on a glacier, and muttered words of love to his wife as they all watched the bright evening sky over the lake in Norway. There was so much passion in him, something A-yeong mirrored, whether it was about work or his relationships or just about everything in life. Hoseok looked forward to that trip, to that time with his wife, to that break, to seeing the scenery and feeling peace.

While Jungkook found himself constantly thinking about the Arts Center and upcoming projects and new design ideas… and the one person who connected him to all those - you. It felt like he was rushing towards something because the achievement was the goal, and while he stopped by the mountains and marveled at the water as he sat on the cliffs, his mind was racing, chasing something that he couldn’t even grasp.

That’s how the past six years have been. Perhaps more, he thinks. Maybe 20. He’s never allowed himself to just be. Quite frankly, he doesn’t know who he is outside of what he does; he doesn’t know much of how he is outside of being an executive and heir, and so during the moments when he isn’t functioning as such, he’s a bit lost, just existing in a place he’s visiting, not knowing how to interact, how to breathe; not knowing how to connect or to be free.

You’re the bright spot amidst it all. With you around, he still seems to be wandering while stuck in a certain spot, but he’s not alone because you’re there. With you around, there’s a sense of calmness somehow, with your smile and your presence warming the coldest parts of him that he’s left untouched and unfeeling for years.

So when he walks towards you, his eyes fully opening now to see you better, he hums in satisfaction.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he says, prompting you to turn around. “It feels like it’s been so long.”

“Really, Mr. Jeon? I thought the three weeks felt fast,” you giggle. “But it’s nice to see you, too. Were you able to rest out there?”

“Somehow,” he replies, taking the glass of water you give him.

“Is that why you passed on your morning workout to sleep in?” You raise an eyebrow, thinking that he’d slept in when you walked into his penthouse earlier without the usual sounds from the gym that you’d gotten used to.

“I was pretty jet lagged,” he groans. “Couldn’t sleep so I did it last night to tire myself out and then I finally fell asleep three hours ago. It’s a miracle I woke up after the tenth snooze of my alarm.”

“Ooh, that is not good, considering all the documents on your desks and messages on your inbox,” you shake your head. “What if I move the team meeting to tomorrow so you don’t push yourself too hard today? You could’ve taken the day off.”

“And have a worse day tomorrow? No thanks,” he chuckles. “I’m fine, but I agree with moving the meeting.”

“Just take it slow,” you advise. “I brought some pastries because I know your fridge and pantry are empty. I’ll get them ready shortly.”

“I’ll wash up then.”

You follow not long after, preparing his outfits for the second half of the week, then setting out the breakfast for both of you. He returns to the kitchen wearing the brown suit you chose for today, looking just as handsome as you remember. You fix his tie like you always do and meet his eyes like it’s reflex, the warmth bubbling within you when he returns your soft smile. You take your seat a chair away, taking your iPad after to start going through updates when he stops you.

“Not yet, please. My mind’s still half asleep.”

“Okay, sir,” you respond. “We can talk about your trip instead. How was it?”

Jungkook finds himself more engaged in telling you about it, not like how he was when his best friends met him for dinner last night and he was too tired to narrate how it went. But you ask with such excitement that he ends up sharing more than what he planned.

He talks about the Vikings museum and historical tours, the bike rides and coastal walks, the calm but lively cities and the breathtaking waterfalls. He even mentions the things he’d only kept to himself - like that one evening when the sky looked like one of Lee Jaemin’s paintings that had him staying at the balcony with a glass of wine while basking in its beauty, and when they were in Hans Christian Andersen’s hometown and he wondered what kind of fairytale character he would be, and that he learned he really enjoys hot springs during the winter. They’re random thoughts that he just ended up saying, somehow feeling natural and comfortable in sharing them with you.

You indulge him, asking more and sharing your thoughts, too. You even throw in the occasional teasing remark and playful laughter. You ask about the scenery, expressing your yearning for the outdoors that you said you never really appreciated before, as the open space always overwhelmed you.

He passes you his iPad where he’s opened the folder of the photos that he took with his camera, a gift from Taehyung who’d said that Jungkook needed to go out more and “feel the sun.” He rarely used it but a Northern Europe trip seemed like the perfect excuse. He’s used to assessing interiors and marveling at structures from afar, but this time he got to appreciate what lies beyond his walls, beyond the little world he’s been burrowing himself in.

“These are stunning, Jungkook,” you gush, dropping the formalities as he shares something that feels so personal. “I didn’t know you had the talent for photography, too.”

“I wouldn’t call it a talent,” he shakes his head. “I took it as an elective during university and it helps with design ideas. I should at least take nice photos if I need inspiration or a basis. I don’t really do it much, though.”

“Did it make you feel good, at least?” You ask, wondering what else gives him satisfaction.

“Somehow. It makes me feel good when I’m looking at the pictures. I’m transported to that day and that place again, like a holder of memories and desire for the good things.”

You go through the photos - dozens of them. He didn’t take too many, just one or two shots of every scenery. Beyond the majestic landscape, there are the everyday scenes - people talking at a cafe, strangers enjoying the park. There’s a couple holding hands, laughing at each other; from the silhouettes, you can tell they’re Hoseok and A-yeong, a moment that Jungkook probably thought too precious to not capture.

Something in you stirs, as the photos elicit a mix of awe and yearning. You look at Jungkook and you think it’s what he felt, too.

There’s a saying you heard about watching what people photograph to learn what they fear losing. With Jungkook, it seems as if these - freedom, tranquility, connection, intimacy - are things he wants; somehow they seem to be what he fears having.

“It’s nice to have a keeper of good memories, isn’t it? Of that reminder that beautiful things exist and that they’re tangible, you know?” You say, returning his gadget.

“It is,” he responds after a beat of silence, seemingly processing your words. “We forget sometimes. Or maybe, we just don’t know what that’s like. In that case it’s like an illusion. But it’s still good to have that, I guess. It’s still something.”

You don’t know what more could be said. It feels too personal or even intimate of a conversation to have with your boss on a Wednesday morning as you eat breakfast in his apartment. So you let it go, smiling as you say you’re glad he got to have some rest.

He says that so does he and then asks about how your holiday was as you both head to the car. You talk about it during the ride, how you spent a week in Wando with your mother’s partner’s family and then drove to Jeonju, how the entirety of your break had you stuffing your face with food and bonding with them, and how they drove you back to Seoul last weekend, thankful that for those two weeks, they had you around.

You don’t tell Jungkook that some days, you’d think of him, wondering how he’s doing. You don’t tell him that you’d seen A-yeong’s posts and that he looked at peace in them, that there was a softness in his eyes that you’ve rarely seen on him. You don’t tell him that despite the vacation that you said you were looking forward to, you were also looking forward to this - having him back, sharing stories, and living in the silence alongside him.

You wonder, as you glance at him looking out the window, if this is what you meant about savoring the moment, enjoying what’s in front of you, and feeling less alone. Because right now, those are exactly what you feel.

Jungkook wanted to wait to get to the office before proceeding to work matters, something that surprises you because he always gets down to business immediately, not unless he’s recovering from a hangover. But he blew you off even in the car, wanting instead to listen to your stories and then doodle on his leather notebook again for the rest of the ride. You end up meeting with him for an hour before he settles in, then he goes to lunch with his father, meets with your team, and then decides to visit the Arts Center mid-afternoon.

Work is back in full-swing just like that, and you pull the energy from within you to manage the crazy week. There are start-of-the-year events to attend and organize, a board report and meeting to prepare for, new projects to initiate, and a major one to monitor.

You’re glad that despite all that, Jungkook allows you to have a four-day off on the succeeding week so you can celebrate your birthday with a road trip down coastal towns with Jimin and Soomin. It’s a silly thing to do in the middle of winter, but they insist that warmth is most satisfying when it’s cold outside, and you don’t disagree. You’ll definitely be sighing in relief when you hold the steaming hot hotteok in between your hands, and it’ll be the best one you’ll have.

It’s Thursday and you’ll be back in a week. You’ve just finished briefing Do-hyun, who’ll be covering for you while you’re away, and you get off your chair to grab tea in the pantry. Jungkook’s voice stops as you, as he stands by his door and asks if you’re already leaving.

“In an hour, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. “Is there anything I can help you with until then?”

“No, nothing,” he says. “I’m actually about to leave for dinner with Taehyung and Seokjin.”

“Oh, alright, sir,” you hum. “Goodbye, then. And I’ll see you next week. Just know that you’re the only one who can disturb me.”

He laughs in response. “Come on, I won’t be badgering you, especially on your birthday. It’s your one week away from me. You have to savor it.”

“So should you,” you counter. “But okay. I will.”

“Good,” he nods. “I’ll just fix up and go ahead then.”

He returns to his room and you’re just the tiniest bit disappointed that he didn’t properly greet you but you suppose that’s good for you. So you go to the pantry and end up chit-chatting with the team, finding yourself smiling when you look up and see Jungkook by the door, who tells everyone not to stay too late before he heads out.

You arrive back at your desk, your heart beating fast at the sight of a small brown bag on your table.

For your trip. Something to help remind you that beautiful things exist and they’re tangible, the note reads. Happy birthday.

Your mind goes to a conversation you had not long ago, about how photos can elicit certain emotions and be a keeper of memories, especially of good ones. You know this is from Jungkook, and you also have an idea of what this might be, which is why you open the package right away.

Still, it catches you by surprise, especially when you find two disposable film cameras inside. They’ll definitely be enough for your upcoming trip and you know the photos will come out amazingly. You’re ecstatic.

Perhaps this is why he wanted to leave before you did - you’d thank him and he’d be terrible at accepting it again, then you’ll call him out for it. Maybe it was good he hadn’t stuck around to see you act this way. At least he didn’t see you with that silly smile on your face.

But Yoongi does as you head down the elevator, smirking at you when he sees the bag you’re holding and the familiar handwriting on the card.

“I’m guessing you’re not fighting it anymore, huh?” He says, teasing yet somehow still comforting.

“I’m trying not to, even if I know I’m being stupid,” you admit. “I can at least have these fleeting moments of joy after I walk away from this.”

“Retain the good memories. That’s one way to let things go,” Yoongi advises, as he exits the carriage on the parking lot floor.

The doors close on your smiling face, and he chuckles to himself at the irony of things. That’s how he learned to let you go, after all.

You return to work the following week with a spring in your step, with Jungkook noticing as you heat up the fried rice that you told him you’d be preparing for breakfast. You hum as you go about in the kitchen, feeling energized after the last few days you’ve had.

It was freezing, but you, Soomin, and Jimin went a little crazy and ran down the beach whenever you drove by one, something you all did as kids living in Busan. The drives from town to town were slow but they had you all singing to your favorite songs, munching on chestnuts and bungeoppang, and stopping over viewing sites for fresh air and photos.

You used Jungkook’s gift a lot, taking pictures of things that elicited strong emotions and good memories - purple and orange skies, snow melting on the pavement, the crashing ocean waves turning white at the tip, an empty playground in the park, Soomin’s infectious laughter, Jimin’s angelic smile.

The cold was an excuse to seek your best friends’ warmth and they took advantage of it. It reminded you of those few years growing up with them before you returned to Daegu for college, something you and Jimin reminisced about, and something that you thanked him for after what seemed like ages. You recalled how he approached you first as the new girl who entered school in the middle of the school year, how he followed you around because you were always alone and was scared of loud noises, and how he’s never left your side since then.

Every night during that trip, he hugged you as you tried to fall asleep, knowing you needed it for the cold you felt inside and out. He was next to you when you talked about Jungkook gifting you the cameras and admitted that it made you feel good, that it made you happy.

“I’m glad he’s showing you kindness,” Jimin had said. “But… just be careful, okay? Your heart is capable of a lot of good things. Pain is the last thing it deserves.”

“I don’t really know what my heart is capable of,” you replied. “My brain does the hurting but my heart… I don’t know what it does. I don’t know how it works.”

It left him speechless then and somehow, you were glad that he just held you tighter, only because it was the only way you wanted to be comforted at that moment. But you also knew that whatever your heart ended up doing or experiencing, Jimin and Soomin would be there to help you make sense of it, to pick up the pieces should they need to.

“It seems as though your birthday rejuvenated you, ___,” Jungkook disrupts your thoughts. “You look much lighter and relaxed.”

“Only because I haven’t checked my emails nor taken new instructions from you,” you laugh as you serve the fried rice in bowls then head towards him. You fix his suit again and speak casually like you’ve gotten used to. “Once I open that iPad and see what I have to deal with, relaxed would be the last thing I’ll be.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles. “Let me savor this then.”

His words catch you off guard and they prompt you to meet his eyes - soft yet piercing, then he turns shy and turns away from you. Perhaps he’s surprised at what he’d said, too.

“Work is stressful and your calmness rubs off on me most times,” he says nonchalantly. “We’ve got a busy few days ahead and I want that calmness to linger.”

“It will,” you assure him. “And yes, I feel rejuvenated, and that’ll probably last me for days so that will linger, even if I’m stressed, so don't worry. You’re gonna do well. I don’t doubt it one bit.”

Jungkook’s meeting the Culture Minister next week to present the Arts Center’s plans and activities leading to its opening to the public, which is why you think he needs that calmness as well. The team has been helping him with the preparations and while you felt bad that you didn’t get to contribute as much, he assured you that all the notes you left him have been instrumental.

But still, his words affect you. Is this calm and relaxed version of you all he wants to savor? Does it mean anything more?

The thoughts wander away as you have breakfast with him, and he asks if you wish to talk about work later on but you insist that you’re mentally ready for it all. He’s the one who gives you updates this time, and just like that, you’re back to your usual routine.

You glance at his plate, all clean right after because even this dish, he savors. And you realize that doing things for him, no matter how simple, makes you happy, too, especially when his lips turn up in a small smile and he nods in satisfaction.

“Good, huh?” You wiggle your eyebrows.

“It’s infinitely better than mine,” he hums.

“So, it’s really, really, really good then?”

“You don’t even know how mine tastes like.”

“True. But Taehyung said once that yours was really delicious and I’ll take his word for it. Seokjin agreed and I believe them.”

“Wow, really? That’s a rare moment where they praise me,” Jungkook laughs.

“You should savor that, too.”

“I should. Heavens know the last time that happened. And when it’ll happen again.”

“That’s kind of hard though, isn’t it?” You say, being a bit reflective as you go back to your daily routine after a trip that you wholly enjoyed. “Savoring things… capturing them, appreciating them. Like, you have to be in the moment, you have to be present, and that’s not easy to do.”

“It isn’t,” he responds after a while. “You have to care enough for something to be worth savoring, I guess.”

“Exactly. But how do you do that when everything is temporary - things, feelings… people. Not all of them are meant to stay,” you reply, meeting his eyes as they seem to be in deep thought.

“Maybe they will… if you ask them to,” he softly says.

“That depends.”

“On what?” He asks.

“If they have a reason to,” you shrug.

Your faraway eyes tell him that you’re in deep thought, perhaps processing the exchange that even Jungkook can’t fully wrap his head around. But you turn to him not long after, smiling as you take the plates to clean up, as if you’d just snapped out of a trance, of a moment of honesty.

He watches you from his seat. There’s an aura about you that truly feels more relaxed, yet there seems to be an added layer of pensiveness, of deep thinking that could easily be mistaken for savoring the moment when you might be questioning it, perhaps wondering if it’s real… or worth caring about in the first place.

Even until now, he doesn’t know what it is about you that has him hanging on to every word you say, like it’s some secret message or code to learning who you are and what your fears and pains and hopes and dreams might be.

In the past months, his moments with you have allowed him a peek inside - there’s this yearning for something that you’re not ready for; there’s this knowledge of the fleeting nature of the world that you want to capture as memories because that’s the only way you can make them stay; there’s this desire for companionship that terrifies you more than anything.

But then again, as he sees that soft courage in your eyes, maybe he knows why - he has the same fears as you, and perhaps that’s terrifying, too, as he realizes that much of what he’s scared of is tangible.

He fears the emptiness left in your absence and the silence surrounding him when you’re gone. His trip over the holidays made him think so; this past week when you were away solidified it. There’s a lot of you to miss. He’s unsure how to deal with these thoughts and feelings; he doesn’t know how to move forward and be professional when you affect him this way. All he can hope for is that you’ll always find a reason to stay close to him, that you’ll always find a reason to want him around, and that every moment you share is something worth it enough for you to savor but that you both never have to let go.

You think about the conversation with Jungkook later that night on your way home. There’s something about the impermanence of the world that’s always scared you; things break and wither away all the time and you fear the loss in their absence. Perhaps it’s because you’ve experienced various types of losses throughout your years of living.

You lost that childhood innocence the first time you saw your mother cry, then when her smile that finally returned was wiped off, and then when her hopeful eyes became filled with tears out of fear. You lost that comfort of a routine when you left Seoul at 10 years old, and then that stability when you said goodbye to your life in Busan. You lost that security when you decided to come back here with a dream tucked away, burdened with a debt and a past that you couldn’t escape. You lost that feeling of freedom when your favorite library closed, and then of safety during that night at the restaurant when you were hurt and exposed.

It’s hard to savor things when you know you’ll lose them one day. But that’s also precisely why you should, as what these past months have been showing you, you think now. The absence reminds you that something good was in its place, and that at one point in time, it made you hope that you deserved it, that you were worthy of having it.

But as you lay in bed that night and think of how much of Jungkook you thought about while you were away, you start to think that maybe things aren’t as temporary as you once believed. He was in the icy streets that you walked on and the warmth of the hot chocolate drink you had. He was in the drizzle on the playground that you wiped off and the touch of the leather notebook you saw at one of the shops.

And perhaps that was the difference - you didn’t just stand by; somehow it felt like you connected with them - they were tangible, within your grasp, and that made them linger, that made them feel real. In your mind, that’s where they stayed.

The tail-end of winter marks the time when you’ve settled in the new year. All your backlog from the holidays and your short birthday break have been worked on. Operational plans and goals for the year have been finalized. The Board report and meeting are over and major events have been scheduled. Things are picking up now as the Arts Center is near its completion, with the consequent promotions and marketing on full speed. That last bit has been contracted to a subsidiary company but Jungkook is still on top of most things, which means that so are you.

You accompany him to meetings with different departments regularly, and that’s on top of monitoring the other small projects that the VP office is working on, which is also on top of supporting Jungkook’s executive functions. In a blink of an eye, you’re back to the hustle and bustle nature of your job, and you’re reminded of why it’s been so hard to get out of it, and also why you can’t wait to do so.

There’s just so much going on all at once, and given how you are, you give all of yourself to it because it’s the only way to get things done; it’s the only way to get through it without feeling like you’re taking for granted all that you’ve been given and achieved. But it also means you’ve lost the sense of meaning of most other things, and you wanna be able to do something that means something to you, something of good memories, of beautiful things that are tangible that you can touch and feel.

You let go of the thoughts when Do-hyun and Yohan pop in your area to say goodbye. It’s another long night for everyone and you’re glad that they finally listened to you and decided to go home. You say that you still have a couple of things to work on when they insist that they walk you to the bus stop, telling them once more that you’ll be fine.

“It’s forecasted to rain soon,” Do-hyun informs you.

“I’ll get a cab, don’t worry,” you assure them. “Finance needs these files first thing tomorrow morning and we’ve got that ocular at 8. Thank you though.”

“Fine, but let us know when you’re home, okay?” She says.

“I will. Get home safely, you two.”

You get back to work, and with the peace and quiet in the office with you being the last one here, you manage to finish what you need to in an hour and then finally call it a night. You head out and sigh to yourself once you see the lightning strike, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before the rain will begin to pour. You manage to bring out your umbrella by the time it does, then turn at the corner to look for a cab so you can avoid those who’ll be hailing from the main road.

There are a few people who have the same idea as you, and it’s after some time before you spot one, with the driver slowing down once he sees you. But right as you start speed walking towards it, some man decides to get ahead, running past you and bumping you in the process, causing you to lose your balance. The wet pavement doesn’t help, as you slip on your foot and fall to the ground. You try to get up but jerk in pain when you do, realizing that you’d hurt your ankle, a foreign feeling that has you immediately worrying.

After all the times you’d found yourself under the rain, this is the worst moment of all - you’re hurting, all alone, and completely worn out. You’ve had a really long day and you don’t have the energy for this; all you want is to go home and have some rest. But you know there’s no other way, so you shift on your bum, manage to get up and strain your arms in the process, then you limp to the nearest post you can find using your umbrella as a walking stick then stand on one foot.

The rain has weakened a little, so you’re at least not getting even more wet, but it’s still winter and you’ve started to freeze. There are no other cabs in sight and all ride-hailing apps have been such a pain to book. Knowing that it’ll be tough to get home in any way at this stage and that you won’t be able to manage on your own, you decide to call Mr. Ri. He’s always told you that if you need help for anything, he’s another person that you could call.

It’s half past 8 in the evening. You’re banking on him being on the way home after having dropped Jungkook off at his building after a dinner meeting at 5:30.

“Hey, ___. Is everything alright?” Mr. Ri asks, knowing you rarely call at this hour.

“Not really,” you sigh, the shiver in your voice evident. “Have you dropped Jungkook off?”

“Not yet. But what do you mean, not really? What happened?”

“Are you driving?”

“No. I’m still waiting for him to finish. Tell me, are you in danger?” He presses, and you hear the worry in his voice.

You told him about Chi-won some weeks after it happened, and Mr. Ri, having known you for many years, knows you’re not one to usually reach out. He’s made it a point to check on you regularly, and calls like this would definitely ring some alarm bells.

“I’m not in danger but I hurt myself,” you say, quickly appeasing him that it’s probably just a sprained ankle and not that serious. “I just can’t get any ride and I can barely walk. I was hoping you were on the way home.”

“I’m not but I’ll go get you, okay? I’ll tell Jungkook and we’ll drive to you right away.”

“Mr. Ri, he’s in a meeting!”

“That’s most likely over and now they’re just chatting over drinks,” he reasons. “I’ll get him. You know he’ll want me to.”

“You don’t know that,” you stammer.

“You weren’t there with him the days after what happened that night at the restaurant, ___,” he huffs. “I just knew it was really bad because of how worried he was, and he’s never been that way. So yes, I know he’ll want me to get his ass out of there and be on the way to you. Plus, I’m sure he’ll fire me if I don’t.”

“Fine,” you concede. “Just don’t make it sound so bad because it really isn’t.”

“You know I can’t control how that kid reacts,” he hums. “Just send me your location.”

Mr. Ri heads out of the driver’s lounge and rushes to the restaurant where he manages to send a message to Jungkook that you’re stranded somewhere with possibly a sprained ankle. He says it as it is, knowing that Jungkook won’t need much to decide on ending the meeting and go to you, which he does right away.

“What happened?” He asks the older man as they both walk towards the basement parking.

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask any more questions,” Mr. Ri responds. “She’s somewhere near the office. We’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

“Try for 15,” Jungkook instructs.

He calls you right after and he immediately picks up on your chattering teeth.

“Hey, ___. How are you feeling?”

You’re a little surprised when Jungkook calls this soon, and with how you’re trying to move past whatever attraction you have towards the man, this really isn’t helping.

“Just… cold. My umbrella flew away,” you laugh. “The wind’s picked up and I think it’s gonna rain again.”

Just as you say so, it starts, and you pick up on the change in Jungkook’s voice. You’ve since learned that he’s not fond of it, always closing his eyes and trying to tune everything out with even just a drizzle. But he continues talking and asks what happened, trying to keep you company. You narrate the incident and attempt to play it off as something minor, although the longer you stay leaning against the post, the more pain you’re starting to feel.

“We’re five minutes away. We’ll be there soon,” he assures you then drops the call.

Jungkook clenches his fist and closes his eyes as the rain continues to pour. With the sound of the thunder, he jerks in his seat like he always does, but he pushes forward, knowing you need his help. He takes deep breaths just as he’s learned to do, and not long after, Mr. Ri informs him that he sees you just meters away.

The car slows down and Jungkook looks outside the window. He can see you leaning against a pole on one foot, drenched and shivering, your eyes closed as you wait for them to arrive. He meets Mr. Ri’s eyes in the rear view mirror as they halt, and with the rain just barely stopping, the older man nods and exits the car.

Jungkook watches from inside as Mr. Ri runs to you. He sees the smile on your face despite the droplets on the window. The older man takes your bag then helps you walk, leading you to the car where Jungkook manages to push the door open.

You slowly enter with as much energy you can muster, wincing in pain when you have to adjust your foot inside. You sigh in relief as you feel the warmth and dryness of the car, prompting you to apologize for getting it all wet.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook shakes his head. “We’ll take you to the hospital, okay? And I won’t accept no for an answer.”

You nod in agreement, knowing that much as you’re causing him inconvenience right now, you’re too tired to argue. You lean your head by the window and try to catch your breath.

“Have you had dinner? He asks.

“Not yet. I was supposed to grab it on the way home.”

“We’ll pass by somewhere after the hospital.”

“Okay,” you look at him and smile.

Jungkook isn’t surprised when you don’t counter him. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion, as he sees it in how your smile isn’t as bright as what he’s used to, with it fading as you turn away. You’re still shivering though, despite the car heater being turned up. He doesn’t have a towel to dry you up, though, so he instead removes his coat and instructs you to lean forward so he can place it over your shoulders to warm your back. He takes his puffer jacket from the front seat and puts it over your lap right after, giving you warmth there, too.

“Is that better?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you mouth. “Thank you.”

His scent wafts through your senses, allowing you to breathe and feel all of him at once. It’s the closest thing to tangible comfort you’ve gotten from him, and you hate how good it feels.

You’re just about to fall asleep when the car comes to a stop. The rain has subsided and perhaps that’s why soon after, you hear Jungkook open his door and then your door, too. He removes his coat over your back, placing it back inside, then he holds onto your forearms to help you climb out. He takes his jacket and instructs you to wear it, giggling at how you’re being swallowed in it.

“I look ridiculous,” you pout as you sit on the wheelchair that he’s asked the nurse to get.

“Just a little,” he teases.

He walks next to you as you’re wheeled inside the hospital, staying close by when you explain to the ER doctor what happened. She assesses your foot and lower leg, diagnosing you with a sprained ankle like you expected, and proceeds to wrap it in elastic bandage.

She treats the minor scratches on your palms you got from the fall then writes you a prescription for painkillers. Jungkook takes it so he can buy them for you after, then he helps you settle the bill with your insurance.

You’re quite uncomfortable - you’re still a little wet and the bandage feels foreign around your foot. But you’re also feeling a bit shy, now that Jungkook is the one pushing the wheelchair towards the pharmacy nearby. He parks you at the side while he buys the medicine, and as you look on, you can’t help the relief mixed with giddiness that you feel despite the pain that’s close to overtaking you.

He stands by the counter with his white dress shirt slightly untucked and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hands are in his pockets while he waits for the pharmacist to return, and amidst everything that’s going on, you’re still able to admire how overwhelmingly handsome he looks, especially given what he’s doing right now for you. His side view is quite blinding, so you’re slightly embarrassed when he turns around and calls your name again after you missed it the first few times.

“Dazed and tired?” He asks as he walks back to you with a pack of medicines.

“Definitely,” you say, which isn’t a lie; it’s just not the whole truth. “I just want to eat and have a nice bath and then sleep.”

“And you’ll do all that soon,” he assures you. “We’ll pass by whatever’s open on the way to your place. Just make sure you don’t have the hot water on, okay? And then elevate your foot when you sleep.”

“Yes, I heard everything she said,” you playfully roll your eyes.

“Including the full-on rest that’s required of you for the next few days?” He raises an eyebrow. “Because that’s what you’re gonna have. You’re on leave until you’re able to walk properly again, Ms. Cho.”

“So now you’re being formal,” you tease, flashing him a playful smile. “But yes, Mr. Jeon. The instructions are understood.”

“Good,” he laughs softly. “Glad you’re not being stubborn about it.”

“Oh, not with this one, not when I’m this tired and in this much pain.”

His look turns sullen at the admission of what you’re feeling and you wish he didn’t feel this bad. But you can’t deny the way it’s giving you butterflies, prompting you to scold yourself internally because learning how caring he is isn’t exactly what you need to get over a crush. This is definitely the worst part about being injured, you decide.

You make it out of the hospital and he helps you again as you enter the car, sliding in next to you as he ensures that you’re warm.

You pass by a noodle house on the way, and he buys you some more food for the next day despite your insistence that he didn’t have to. But you’re too tired to argue some more, and you doze off a little during the drive to your apartment, with your half-awake self mumbling your apology about taking up his time.

Jungkook playfully shakes his head. Knowing you’re probably shallow sleep-talking, he disregards your words. He just gets glimpses of you, comforted to know that you’re at least getting the most rest you can have, given your current state. The painkillers will kick in soon and that’ll help you sleep better, but right now, he wishes he could do more for you.

In the deepest crevices of his heart, he wants to hold your still shivering hands and maybe hug your trembling body. He wants to stay with you until you’re warm and comfortable in your bed, perhaps assure you in whatever way that you’re not alone, that there’s help whenever you need it. He can’t imagine how it would’ve been like for you being under the rain, cold and hurt with no one around.

On second thought, he can, and that’s the thing about it. Even if you get out of it with just a sprained ankle - considering how much worse it could’ve been - it’s still terrifying being alone and powerless, paralyzed on the spot and not knowing if anyone will show up. He wants nothing more than for you to get over that and be able to move past it because he knows how haunting it could be; he knows how restraining such memories are.

But he also knows that there’s not much he could do - not with the unnamed feelings he can’t express, and not with the line he still believes he shouldn’t cross.

So he settles for glances and soft smiles at your fluttering eyes and slightly parted mouth. You look tired but peaceful; he thinks it’s quite endearing. It also feels intrusive so he looks away, out into the streets that he’s able to somehow see now. He thinks about the timing of it all - your late night and his dinner out, your injury and the bad weather. He’s thankful that the rain subsided and that allowed him to help you as much as he was able to, and that he got to you in the first place.

You arrive at your apartment with you now fully awake, and Jungkook heads to your side right away. Pulling you out of the car requires more strength from him, and despite your terrible condition, the butterflies appear once more when he instructs you to hold onto him for support. You have to act unaffected when you feel his broad shoulders and taut arms, with your hands gingerly laying on them; you wonder if he feels anything, too, under the thin material of his dress shirt.

His left hand only grazes your waist but his hold tightens after you grant him permission, perhaps knowing that it would be harder for you if he holds you that loose, he asked you to put your weight on him after all. Despite your agreement, you still hold in your breath, a silly attempt at slowing down your quickening heartbeat. He’s never been this close, and you’re unsure if you want him to be anywhere else.

You suspend your thoughts for the shortest of seconds until you both manage to get up the few steps to your door. Mr. Ri helps in unlocking it, and you settle on the dining chair that Jungkook pulls out for you after you both enter.

As you release a breath and watch him look around, it’s then you realize that your boss - the Jeon Corporation Vice President who lives in a penthouse in an exclusive district in Seoul - is in your tiny studio apartment that’s literally just the size of his bedroom. You’re not ashamed one bit but you are a little shy, so you jokingly welcome him to your “little mansion.”

“It’s nice,” he hums, looking around some more, which he doesn’t need to move to do.

The small round dining table, the off-the-wall kitchen, and the three-seater couch are all in the open living space. There’s a half-wall that separates your sleeping area, with your double bed against it and the tiniest of balconies just off of it.

You’re quite proud of what you’ve made of the place, with the plants in the corners, some chic art pieces on the walls, and photos with your friends and family on stick-on frames resting on the shelves. It’s cozy and comfortable for you, and you feel quite proud when Jungkook’s lips turn up when you respond that you’re happy here when he asks.

“It’s everything I need,” you hum. “And it’s in a safe part of town. My neighbors are older couples who are all kind.”

“That’s good,” he says, turning to you. “Will they be much help to you while you recover?”

“I’ll be okay,” you insist. “I have a crutch. I’ve got food to heat up, and my place is so small that I don’t have to move around to get things done. I don’t really need help, you know?”

He scrunches his eyebrows, seemingly unconvinced.

“Watch,” you say, your shallow confidence pushing you to grab the crutch next to you then using it to walk towards him so you could prove that you’re capable enough to look after yourself.

But your unfamiliarity with it leads you to mistime your step. Before you know it, you’re tripping on your foot and losing your balance, and as your life is about to flash before your eyes thinking that you’re gonna fall once again and make your injury worse, Jungkook’s reflex kicks in and he steps forward to catch you. You feel his grip on your waist gradually tighten as if to keep you steady, as if to make sure you’re alright. He’s so close, you can feel his breath as he pants, the worried look on his face something you’re familiar with by now. But he stays there, inches away, and so do you.

He’s bending, so he stays leveled with you. You can see his long eyelashes resting on his honeyed skin and the endearing curve of his nose. He looks so soft like this, comfortable even, with his big round eyes looking like the most innocent ones you’ve ever seen.

The voice in your head suddenly becomes loud enough and you break his gaze, realizing then that you’re also clutching onto his shoulder for support. You give him a look of apology but he just laughs, something you’re thankful for because the last thing you want is for the tension to thicken.

“You’re stubborn, aren’t you? You think it’s that easy?” He shakes his head, his tone sounding like he’s both teasing and reprimanding you.

“It seemed like it,” you shrug, allowing him to help you back on the seat, disregarding the slightest bit of giddiness you feel as he has one hand on your free arm while the other ghosts over your waist in case you fall again.

“It’s not. And I know this because I’ve used this before,” he says. “So since you’ll be by yourself, we have to make sure you can at least use the crutch without falling, okay?”

“Fine,” you concede, listening to his instructions carefully then trying to do it on your own.

It takes some getting used to, but after a few tries, you manage to at least walk without tripping. You plan on just staying in bed or on the couch tomorrow anyway so you’re not that worried. Even if Jungkook still seems to be.

“I’m okay,” you insist. “I’m gonna survive. But you should head home. It’s getting late and you have that ocular in the morning. I’ll just have to email Chin-sun about accompanying you and—”

“None of that,” he interjects. “I’ll be the one to tell her and I don’t want you worrying about work tomorrow, okay? You’re gonna take your medicine and just rest.”

“You’re demanding, aren’t you?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Only when I’m dealing with someone as stubborn as you,” he counters.

You just laugh at him answering back, enjoying your banter more than you should, then he says that he’ll go ahead, for as long as you’re sure you can manage. It takes another five minutes until he makes it out the door. But before he disappears, you call his name, your heart skipping a beat when he turns around, as if he’s just hanging onto your every word.

“Thank you,” you say. “I know it was a long day and it was raining but… you still came for me.”

“Just recover quickly, okay? I’ll check on you in the morning.”

You nod and he leaves. And just like that, you’re once again on your own - damp, injured, and extremely tired. Jungkook’s presence remains in your apartment though, and there he is again, making you smile and making you feel things you shouldn’t.

You don’t mind being alone. In fact, you enjoy it. But during the times when you don’t want to be, he just happens to be there. And being the stubborn woman that you are, deep down, you like it that he is, that in your own little world with the walls up so high, he’s become a frequent visitor. You’re just not sure if you want him to stay just yet.

You wake up the next morning feeling faint and sore, and it’s probably the painkillers having lost their effect. And there’s a reason why, seeing that it’s close to midday when you finally get out of bed. You manage to stand and walk to the kitchen with no issues, and you take your medication and heat up the food that Jungkook bought for you last night. It’s when you’re seated that he calls, bringing that smile to your otherwise uneventful day.

“Hello?”

“Hey, ___. How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Just fine. I took my medicines for the day and I’m about to eat lunch,” you reply. “And you? How was the ocular?”

“It was good. It has a lot of potential so I’ll run down the details with the teams and propose it. But speaking of sites, remember what I said about Hoseok and I thinking of a Scandinavian-inspired mid-rise in the mountains?”

“Yeah, the one you came up with during your trip. Are you gonna push through with it soon?”

“Perhaps. I’ve gotten emails of proposed sites for some other projects but I’ve seen a few that could work with this idea,” he shares. “There’s one in Gangwon that’s near the town center so it would be practical for many. There’s even— ah, why am I saying this to you now? You’re off the clock.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. Jungkook doesn’t always show this much excitement with the projects he has to manage so when he does, you encourage him. It’s also an excuse to hear more of his voice. “My mind’s not prepared for being home today anyway so I’m a little disoriented. But that’s good. I can look into the sites and we can do an ocular whenever you prefer.”

“Alright, that’s something to schedule for next month. But uh, you sure you’re fine? Does your ankle still hurt? Did you get proper sleep?”

“Well, I slept like a baby,” you giggle. “And I at least remained in one position. It still hurts a bit but it should be okay in the next few days. I’m just gonna have to replace the bandage tomorrow morning.”

“Okay. Just make sure to ice it and keep it elevated.”

“Yes, boss,” you tease, earning you a groan. “But uh, thank you for checking up on me. I know you’ve got a busy day ahead.”

He’s silent, and you suppose it’s him again not knowing how to respond to gratitude, so you follow it up by saying that you’ll eat your meal now and reminding him of his meeting at 2PM.

“You better not be checking your emails and my calendar right now,” he warns.

“I’m not. I just memorize your schedule,” you defend.

“Okay then, I’ll go ahead.”

Jungkook drops the call and sinking in his seat, he sighs in relief. He managed to get through that conversation without sounding extremely worried, which is what he’s been since last night. His busy day today actually includes constantly worrying about how you’re doing, but he supposes it’s too much to let you know. Sure it’s just a sprained ankle, but knowing how you tend to move about, anything can happen. You were all alone for some time last night, too, just waiting for a way to get home. And that’s another thing he worries about - that fear latching onto you, that helplessness weighing you down.

He asks Mr. Ri if he’s heard from you, thinking that you’d probably be more honest with him, but the older man says you told him the same thing.

“Don’t you believe her?” Mr. Ri wonders.

“I do, but she’s quite stubborn though,” Jungkook laments.

“Well, I’ve known her for a while and she tends to just deal with things on her own,” Mr. Ri says.

“But she shouldn’t. She’s injured.”

“I think it’s natural for people who’ve been alone for many years to be that way,” the older man shrugs. “I mean, you’re the same.”

Jungkook doesn’t disagree. And if you’re truly anything like him, then you’d just push through the pain and force it to stop hurting so you can go back to your normal busy life because doing so keeps you from thinking of how lonely it feels when you’re sick or hurt and there’s no one around. It’s how he’s always been, too, he admits to himself.

The thought disturbs him, which is why he messages you three more times during the day and then again the next morning, asking if he could drop by. He’s expecting you to insist that you’re fine and he doesn’t need to, so it surprises him when you say that he could.

You’re pacing back and forth in your mind since you’re unable to physically do so, but the thought of Jungkook visiting you this Saturday morning is a lot for you to handle, even if you did say it was alright for him to come. The truth is, you wanted him to, only because selfishly, seeing someone be that worried about you gives you some form of comfort.

You called your family yesterday and told them about the injury, which they obviously panicked about. Your mom asked if you needed her to come to you but like always, you said she didn’t need to. You told Yoongi about it, too, and he was worried as well, in the classic way that he often is; he had food delivered to you for dinner last night so you didn’t have to think about it. You only told your best friends about it this morning and they were furious you waited so long to let them know; they were packing their stuff right as you were speaking to them two hours ago.

You know you have people to depend on and would be at your doorstep anytime you ask. These are the same people who’ve done that for years and you fully accept their care and attention; it’s become a part of you and your healing process. But when someone like Jungkook who, for whatever reason he has, shows you the same, it feels different; he goes out of his way to show it to you, and he’s not even someone who normally does it. It’s a new kind of comfort, one that you find yourself seeking. So when he called earlier and asked if he could drop by, there was an internal sigh of relief.

Over half an hour later, your doorbell rings, and you limp your way towards the door to open it.

Other than being in suits, you’ve only ever seen Jungkook in his gym clothes - half naked as well - and in night out wear. You realize that this is the first time you’re seeing him in a casual outfit, and with a jacket over a sweatshirt and a brown beanie, he looks different - there’s that boyish charm that you’ve never seen; he looks softer, kinder, still reserved but a lot more comfortable.

You let him in after your greetings, then you turn to him and smile.

“It’s really the suit, I know it now,” you tease. “It’s what makes you look intimidating.”

He looks at his attire then frowns at you. “So how do I look now?”

“Not intimidating.”

“Wow, what a surprise,” he playfully rolls his eyes. “Whereas you…” He eyes you in gray leggings and a blush jumper, looking soft and comfortable and even more like the bright spot he’s realized you are, but he’d never tell you that. “You look injured.”

“Gee, what a surprise. I feel injured, too,” you laugh. “But uhm, it’s nice of you to visit my humble mansion once again.”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re doing better,” he hums. “And bring some more food so you don’t have to worry about it.”

You eye the beef brisket with rice and say that you know what you’ll be having for lunch. He responds that he might just go back to the restaurant and meet his best friends there, too. You return to your seat on the couch, realizing there’s not much room for him to sit on, but he gets to you first, standing in front of you and eyeing the elastic bandage on the table.

“Aren’t you due for a redress?” He asks.

“Yes but uh, I can’t actually reach my foot,” you say with an embarrassed smile. “I’m not really flexible so I’ll just wait until Soomin and Jimin arrive.”

“I can do it,” he offers, thinking that the bandage isn’t serving its purpose if it remains loose. “I mean, I’ve dressed myself on my own before so I’m familiar with it.”

It’s probably the painkillers but something possesses you and you agree, your mind too out of it to take the words back. A part of you wishes you had, especially when your heart does a thing when he kneels on the floor and slowly takes your injured foot. You wiggle your toes in reflex, as if they’re shy, too, and Jungkook laughs at your silly antics, especially when you admit that you’re a little ticklish.

But he softly looks at you right after and asks if he’s hurting you, and you shake your head, unable to say anything else and process that you really allowed this man - your boss and in-denial crush - to do this.

You sit there, charmed by the way he looks determined to get this done. He removes the old bandage and wipes your ankle before wrapping it with a new one. His hands are large and quite rough but he’s very gentle, making sure to not lift your foot too high and that the bandage isn’t wrapped too tightly. Once he’s finished, he lays it on the table and looks up at you to ask if it feels okay.

“Yes,” you shyly smile. “Thank you. That was, uh, that was really nice of you.”

He nods and stands up to throw the trash in the bin, wanting to quickly hide his smile at how wholesome you looked in thanking him.

He proceeds to look around, taking more of your home in. There’s something very calming about it, and it’s more than just the plants that you have and the right amount of sunlight coming from the balcony door and kitchen window. There’s also something familiar, as he looks through your shelf of photos, seeing your mom and her partner for the first time. She looks a lot like you. She has a nice smile like yours, and she sees that same joy on her face as he’d seen on you, as she hugs you tightly in one of the pictures.

The familiarity is similar to when he first had a whiff of your scent - old rose like the one his mother used to wear, one he remembers as a child when he still clung to her. There are those memories that stick with him. Others he doesn’t have anymore but that’s good, he supposes. Seeing your shelf, he sees all the good and tangible things you hold dear.

“The photo on the far right, the one with Soomin and Jimin. We took that during my birthday trip using your gift,” you tell him. “It came out really nicely.”

“It did. Did you finish the film? What else did you take photos of?”

“We used it all up,” you smile. “And just a lot of the scenery and the three of us. We all divided them so we could have copies and just remember how fun that week was.”

“Good, that’s what I hoped.”

Jungkook stands there, his jacket now off so his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his hands are in his pockets as he looks through your shelf. You wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s seeing, if any of this makes him curious. It’s as if he’s taking in all the small parts of who you are that he can see displayed before him. He turns to you and your eyes meet again, and for a moment, it feels like you’re really seeing him and he’s really seeing you, like there’s something only both of you share and understand and want and can give.

But the doorbell ringing disrupts it, with you wondering who it could be since your best friends won’t arrive until an hour from now. Jungkook walks to the door and opens it, surprised to see Yoongi who’s just as surprised to see his friend in your apartment.

“Hey, you’re back. And… here,” you smile, attempting to stand up but Yoongi tells you to stay put.

“I flew home last night and thought I’d visit and get you some food, but it seems like I’m second in line,” he says, his smug face causing you to glare at him.

“I just wanted to make sure she was okay,” Jungkook defends. “I won’t stay long.”

“Of course you do. And I won’t stay long either. I don’t wanna disturb anything.”

He smirks at his friend, prompting Jungkook to glare at him as well.

“Yah, chill, you two. I’m really just passing by,” Yoongi reiterates, making his way now to sit on the arm of your sofa. “Just wanted to check on ___ and make sure she’s well-fed.”

“I’m injured, not starving, okay?” You groan. “But thanks. What have you got there?”

“Noodles, custard buns, and some tarts. Wasn’t sure what you’re into when you’re incapacitated,” Yoongi shrugs.

“I’m very much mobile,” you correct him. “Just… slow and limping.”

Jungkook pulls your dining chair and sits in front of you, and the three of you talk as if this isn’t weird at all. You’re all colleagues - you and Jungkook consider Yoongi as your friend, but you don’t know if you should consider your boss as such, and you don’t know if he considers you the same. You’ve definitely experienced a lot of things that could qualify what you have as friendship, but even then, there’s something more about it, something a little more intimate, different, terrifying.

You brave through this dynamic and learn that Yoongi likes to tell Jungkook off a lot. It’s the kind of bluntness you expect from Yoongi’s no-nonsense attitude but it’s refreshing to see him be more straightforward towards someone like Jungkook who you’re used to seeing as commanding and serious. Jungkook takes the hits, seemingly unbothered as they bicker, and it’s another side of him you enjoy seeing - the smiles and laughter are natural, and there’s this comfort about him that you suddenly want more of.

The time passes quickly, with the doorbell ringing again signaling that your friends have arrived. Yoongi gets up first to open the door, greeting them who do the same. You manage to stand up with Jungkook telling you to be careful, and when it dawns on them who else is in your apartment, Jimin’s face turns sour and Soomin’s goes from confused to amused.

Jungkook looks taken aback by the cold welcome, but he manages to introduce himself to them.

“Oh, we know,” Jimin says dryly. “You’re the one who gives her so much work that she had to do overtime again and that’s why she got hurt.”

You feel the tension come like a strong wave and you try to lower the level a little bit.

“He also brought me to the hospital and got me some food,” you tell Jimin, whose bitterness isn’t unfounded. He did listen to you complain about this very man all those months ago. “He’s just checking up on me, making sure I’m alright, the way you guys are.”

“As we should,” Jimin huffs. “At least we don’t cause you any injury or pain.”

“You don’t. But you do make things better so could you do that, please?” You say, opening your arms for a hug, something to appease him before it gets even more tense.

Jimin has the sweetest smile but wouldn’t be afraid to burn anyone down with his looks if they deserve it. Jungkook did at one point, but you obviously feel very differently about that now. But still, you glance at the man, hoping this encounter isn’t putting him off too much, and with the slight tinge of guilt in his eyes, you suppose it hasn’t.

Jungkook turns away, partly because a reminder of how he’d treated you before makes him regret even more how you both started, and partly because seeing you affectionate with any man - even if it’s your best friend - makes him a tiny bit jealous, only because it’s something he can’t be with you. Seeing you that way with Hajoon months ago was different; Jungkook had been more shocked than anything. But this time, given that his attraction towards you seems to grow every second, and that he’s been wanting nothing more than to comfort you, there’s more of that feeling of loss, of hope that it could be him one day, even if that’s something that’ll probably never happen.

“I know you dislike him but tone it down for now, okay?” You whisper to Jimin. “My place is too small to contain all this tension.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Seeing him just reminds me of what you had to go through because of him,” he says before pulling away. “But he did help. And well, Soo and I are still upset that you didn’t tell us sooner. You know we would’ve driven here on Thursday night.”

“I know, and that’s exactly why. You both had something big going on and I could wait,” you reply, a reason you give them everytime.

Wanting a short breather from all this, you excuse yourself and ask Soomin to help you with something in the bathroom, and she heads there right away.

“Can you make sure that those two don’t murder each other?” You whisper to Yoongi as you gesture towards Jimin and Jungkook.

“It would be entertaining if they did, but yes, I’ll try,” he chuckles.

You walk to where Soomin is and after closing the door, she looks at you with the same amusement that she’s had since she arrived.

“What in the romance drama is this!” She exclaims, lowering her voice when you scold at her to keep it down. “All your three men coming to your home to make sure you’re okay? Talk about making an impression.”

“They aren’t my men, okay!” You scowl at her. “They all just happened to have the same thought. And no, Jimin doesn’t count.”

“Whatever,” Soomin laughs. “It’s just… I know you’re hurt and that you’ll be okay but it’s just amusing to see them show up for you like this. Especially the big boss. He’s way hotter up close, I can tell you that.”

“Please don’t remind me,” you frown. “I wish there was a potion I could take to make him look unattractive to me so that I’d stop being so giddy at everything he does. And fuck, Soo, I haven’t been like this in ages. Or ever.”

“Well, you haven’t been this accepting of someone’s attention, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, and I’m being silly. I might just be putting myself up for disappointment here,” you groan. “I mean, I don’t even know what I’m feeling, but I know what I’m not supposed to feel. And he’s not making it any easier.”

“Your situation isn’t easy in the first place, hun. And there are many reasons why,” she sighs, wishing there was a way to uncomplicate this very complicated relationship you have with Jungkook. “But whatever it is you think you shouldn’t feel, think about what he may be feeling, too. He wouldn’t be making all this effort since Thursday night for this to just be nothing.”

“I wish none of that means anything. That’s probably gonna be easier, right? That he doesn’t feel anything remotely close to what I do? That’s probably better than dealing with all the complications.”

“Maybe, but we don’t really know,” Soomin says, pulling you in for a hug. “But also think about how new and different this feels. It might be worth it in the long run.”

You fall into her embrace, knowing that during the toughest times of your life, this was your saving grace. It’s no different when you’re confused and in need of guidance, and though you’ve always made decisions for yourself with knowledge of the consequences, Soomin was there to back you up during the times when you were going in somewhat blindly. She wants you to be happy, and you won’t really know if continuing to feel what you do about Jungkook will make you so. If all else fails, well, you could always go back home, or maybe return to Busan and start a life there. Jungkook will just be a memory; you hope to the heavens it’ll be a good one.

You shake away the thoughts and finally go back out and are relieved to find some peace. Jimin’s washing your dishes while talking to Yoongi who wipes them dry. Jungkook sits on your sofa, looking around quietly, but he stands when he sees you approach him.

“I’ll go ahead,” he says, gesturing towards the door. “I… I think you’ve got everything you need.”

“Let me walk you there,” you smile.

He’s outside the door when you thank him again then apologize if Jimin made him uncomfortable.

“It’s okay. I’d be protective of my best friend, too, if I learned how their boss treated them,” he responds.

“I, uh… those were hard times and I may have complained quite a bit about you,” you pout. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sure I deserved it,” he chuckles. “You’re lucky you have them. I mean, my best friends tease me a lot and say shit about me to my face and behind my back.”

“Oh come on, Seokjin and Taehyung love you,” you laugh. “I’ve seen it, but you all also said you’re like that to each other; it’s how you guys grew up. I mean, I was the new girl in school and Jimin and Soomin have been protective since day one, whereas your best friends have shown you tough love since you were kids. They said you never accepted their affection so they switched tactics.”

“That’s fair. I was always shy and then turned into a bitter, introverted child. There was no transition, I guess. Now we’re adults and have just stuck with each other because we’re all we’ve ever known.”

“Well, you make decisions to stand by people, Jungkook. They do with you and you do the same with them. Plus, you’re not that insufferable,” you tease.

“At least you don’t think so. Not anymore, I hope,” he says softly, looking away.

“People deserve second chances. You gave me some and more and I… I’m glad you did. I at least get to see this side of you that’s helped me a lot these past months. I’m thankful. And I hope you know that.”

Jungkook just nods, unable to reply through words again. You let him, knowing it’s his default response. He walks to his car and turns around for a final goodbye, leaving you in anticipation for when you’d be with him again.

“Well, that was a long goodbye,” Yoongi says, surprising you as he stands behind you. “And no, I didn’t hear anything.”

You turn to him with a playful frown. “I was just making sure that Jimin didn’t make him feel too bad. I mean, I know I complained a lot but still. I didn’t want Jungkook to think I cursed his existence or something.”

“You did at one point though,” Yoongi laughs. “But it’s acceptable. Jungkook was rude, and heavens know how much shit I gave him for treating you the way he did.”

“You did, huh?”

“I always told you I’d look out for you, ___. Whatever happened or didn’t happen between us, I was always going to have your back.”

“You’re heaven-sent, Min Yoongi,” you smile. “I wish I could do half as much as you do for me.”

“You do more. I hope you don’t ever doubt the comfort that your presence gives to people. Maybe that’s what it’s done to Jungkook. And I know he hasn’t felt much of that in years.”

It’s Yoongi’s last words before he says goodbye, and they stay in your head for the next few days. Maybe Soomin’s right - all that Jungkook has been doing might mean something, and you hope that finding out what it is will all be worth it.

Jungkook decides to meet with his friends at one of his favorite restaurants for lunch. All he planned on doing today was visit you and he has nothing else going on for the rest of it. The club scene has become boring for him, and going to one only to bring home a woman to hook up with is no longer appealing, not when you invade his mind all the time.

Being welcomed in your home was refreshing. And even if it was awkward, meeting your friends allowed him another peak into your world. You choose the people you allow in, and you don’t choose many of them. The ones you do stay for a long time, and that’s the kind of person you seem to be. You value relationships so much that’s why you don’t have many of them, and with all that you went through and the vulnerability you’ve both shown each other, he’s started to hope that one day, he’d be deserving of that, too.

“So did you feel like a fish out of water being there with her actual friends?” Seokjin asks. “Because I don’t know what you’d consider your relationship with her is. Boss-assistant feels too simplistic at this point. Are you friends? Are you more? Or is that all too ambiguous?”

“I don’t… know,” Jungkook sighs. “We’re all that but we also aren’t. We’ve gone through so much that it doesn’t seem like there’s a way to define what we are. But I feel like I’ve seen her at her most vulnerable and we’ve connected because of that.”

“And what about you? Have you been vulnerable in front of her?” Seokjin asks.

Has he? Jungkook thinks. Maybe that first time he asked for your help with his new role but he supposes it’s nothing compared to what you’ve shown him, intentional or not.

“Not really. I… I don’t let myself be. That’s still distance I need to establish,” Jungkook reasons.

“More like, because you know that if you do show that side of you, you’re scared you’ll find out that she’ll understand, and that having her next to you is what you need to heal whatever parts of you that are still hurting?” Seokjin counters.

“I don’t want to need her, you know that. There’s a boundary I shouldn’t cross. She’s my assistant and—”

“You’ve been treating her like the most important person and it’s not hard to miss,” Taehyung interjects. “You were never like this, not since Chaerin.”

“I don’t even know what it is about ___ that just makes me consider risking things, you know?” Jungkook sighs. “I’m always torn with what our reality is and what we could be but I’m afraid that if we cross that line, we’ll have to make sacrifices. I… I’m finding myself wanting her around all the time. When she leaves, I want her to stay. When she’s not there, I want her to come. But at the same time, I don’t want her too close because I don’t know if I can have her or if I can want her. Because I don’t know what of me I can give that won’t hurt her,” he admits, with a bit of help from some whiskey.

“Maybe if you let yourself be vulnerable, you’d know,” Seokjin advises. “Some people would run and hide but there’s always that one person who wouldn’t. That might just be her. And then you’ll learn what you can give, too.”

Jungkook lets his friends’ words settle and then thinks about them throughout the night that he spends all alone in his penthouse, with another glass of whiskey in his hand as he looks out the balcony. A part of him wants you to run and hide when you see who he really is, what he hides and what he’s ashamed of. Maybe that would be easier, he thinks; maybe that would hurt less.

You return to work the next Tuesday, having gone to the hospital the day before and being cleared to return to your usual routine. Jimin and Soomin stayed with you until that evening, with you rejecting their insistence to stay another day. You can manage, you assure them. You’re able to walk properly now and would just need to do daily exercises, wear the elastic bandage for another week, and forego the heels.

Jungkook’s pleased to know that you’re doing better and makes sure you don’t walk around if you don’t need to, so he’s been the one going to see you when he needs something. He also postponed some potential site visits for the project that he and Hoseok are working on until you’re fully capable, which is why it’s three weeks later when you find yourself in the car with him, on the way to some towns in nearby provinces on an early Friday morning.

Mr. Ri called in sick today and Jungkook didn’t want to deal with a chauffeur he doesn’t know, so he decided to drive instead, thinking it’s more efficient that way. These are all initial checks and being that you’re the only one from his team who’s privy to the details, he wanted you to join him as a sounding board and also to get your own thoughts about what you’ll be seeing. He has a vision in mind and he needs to translate it properly; you’ve been helpful these past months in making sure he’s able to do that.

Disregarding what this time alone with you would do to him, Jungkook meets you in his penthouse, telling himself to focus on only one thing today, and that’s finding the right place for his planned project.

You leave early for a quick stop at a cafe and then head north to some towns in Gyeonggi province. There are some properties and land that are up for sale, and you prepared the information about them beforehand, allowing Jungkook to play around with the timeline and budget in his mind, even drawing rough drafts on his iPad as he assesses them. You’re both in work-mode, discussing each site on the way to the next one, with you searching for more details along the way and him, stopping on the side of the road to add an idea that he comes up with on the spot.

It’s a little chaotic, as his mind goes from one thing to another, but you suppose this is how Jungkook naturally is. You’ve seen him perform his duties in various ways, but this is when you see the most raw side of him, and it’s quite the privilege to see. He always said he preferred the creative aspect of the job, which is why he enjoyed his time in Singapore, handling the design department. You contend that he’s grown tremendously in his executive role. As Hoseok has said, Jungkook relates to his staff better now, and has even engaged and attracted more partners with his great ideas.

You’re quite sentimental going on this trip with him. It wasn’t long ago when you were going to work with anxiety, anticipating his next criticism so you can prepare yourself, and then going home feeling like a failure. So much has happened since then, and you could even say that you’ve found comfort in your daily routines; doing something different like this is now exciting and something you look forward to, especially since it allows you to go outside, see the sights, and breathe the cool air.

“You okay there?” He asks, noticing your silence.

“Yeah. I was just thinking how 10 months ago, this would’ve stressed me out so much.”

“What? Going on a road trip?”

“Pretty much going anywhere with you,” you laugh. “Car rides even with Mr. Ri made me freak out, and I was so scared to make a mistake or make you wait for information that I couldn’t find. And now here we are - I survived the last five hours with you and not once did you groan at me.”

“Wow, I must’ve been a really terrible boss to make your standard for a non-stressful day to be that low,” he laughs before turning serious. “But I… I’m… I’m sorry, for all the stress and anxiety that I caused you. I was being selfish and irrational about it. I hate change and you were the biggest one, even with my new role. I took out all the frustration on you and I shouldn’t have.”

He says more than he expected, but it’s also the apology that he should’ve given—that you deserved —months ago.

“I forgive you,” you say softly, glancing at him before returning your eyes towards the road. “I always knew my limits and I guess I let you push it and that was on me. I could’ve stood up to you, too.”

“You did though, more than once. And that knocked some sense into me.”

“I guess,” you hum. “And then things improved and I’m just glad they did.”

There’s a prolonged silence after, as you both opt to bask in the scenery around you. There’s that understanding and acceptance of how things were and that regardless of what’s going on in your own minds, you at least have this. You think to yourself that this just makes leaving that much harder, but at least this is one more memory you could take with you.

You make it to Hwacheon in Gangwon past noon, and this is where you spend most of your time in, as the sites are spread out around the county. There are areas tucked away in the mountains while there are those closer to town with grand views. It’s in the latter where you grab some lunch and go through some of his plans, and you take in his ideas, learning from him in the process.

It’s late in the afternoon when you inspect the final site, which is in an area in the neighboring Chuncheon county. It’s got potential for another project that CEO Jeon is looking to do, and with your notes completed, you and Jungkook start the trip back home. You would reach the tail-end of the Friday night traffic by the time you return to Seoul, the GPS says, and so both of you savor the sky’s changing colors as it transitions to the evening, letting the soft sounds of the radio replace the silence.

Barely 30 minutes in, the rain starts to pour, and it’s seconds later when it dawns on you what that means, as you hear heavy breathing next to you. You turn to Jungkook whose hands are tightly gripping the wheel, with sweat lining his eyebrows despite the cool temperature.

“Did the forecast say it was gonna rain?” He asks, the mix of panic and frustration evident in his voice.

“Yes, but not until late in the evening,” you say, checking your phone to make sure you got the correct information.

Your heart breaks upon realizing that at midday, the weather station warned that there was going to be a thunderstorm, with rainfall coming in around this time. You inform Jungkook, and despite all the progress in your relationship, your heart breaks a second time when he says that you should’ve constantly checked, that the weather changes all the time and you should’ve been mindful, and that now you’re both gonna be stuck on the road because he’s unable to drive and you don’t know how to. His tone is harsh, accusatory, as if it was something you could control, as if everything was your fault, just like how it was before.

Jungkook stops on the side of the road as the downpour continues, and he leans his head on the steering wheel now as he takes deep breaths. You tell him he could breathe better if he sits straight up, but he ignores you.

A part of you wants to remark how it’s ironic that just earlier, he was apologizing for the way he treated you, and now it’s like you’ve both taken a few steps back. You want to say it’s not your fault, that you wouldn’t even have known that the rain affected him this way if you hadn’t seen him be nervous about it when you went home from the gala last year. But you think about the way his eyes looked earlier, how they filled with worry and fear, like there was a sense of powerlessness that you know a little about.

So you settle for a bit of grace and understanding, thinking they’re what he needs.

“I don’t know why this is on me,” you say softly. “I didn’t know how bad it was but if I did, I would’ve checked constantly and I would’ve had us turn back the second I saw that forecast. And if I could drive, I’d drive us back as fast as I could. I’m sorry.”

He slows his breathing and sits up. His hands still tightly gripping the wheel but his eyes are downcast, and you suppose there’s more sadness than anger, so you stop pressing your nails on your skin, which you’d started doing in anticipation of him arguing with you about it.

“I don’t like the rain,” he shares, his voice low. “I… I have a bad memory of it as a kid and I just get reminded whenever it starts. I panic when it gets louder and I just… I can’t stay out here when that's all I can hear.”

His honesty surprises you. You can’t imagine how it must’ve been like for him, even more that he has to suffer through this right now in front of you, considering how hard it is for him to express how he feels. You don’t know how bad this weather is gonna go, and at this pace, the thunderstorm will probably reach you by the time you make it back to Seoul. So you do what you do best, and that’s to come up with options.

“There’s a guesthouse not far from here,” you say after checking the map. “It’s the closest one. We could spend the night there and wait out the rain. That’s better than being stuck here or continuing the drive back to the city.”

He nods in agreement, knowing there’s not much he could do. He doesn’t want to be stuck here; even more, he doesn’t want to unload on you nor have you witness how much worse it could be.

He keys in the address you give him while you call the property and ask if they still have available rooms. They do, so you reserve two and sigh in relief that that’s one problem solved.

You make it there in 15 minutes. Jungkook heads out the car first with the rain having eased up a bit, and you retrieve his luggage from the trunk, the one he keeps there for emergency trips and instances like this one. It has enough clothes for a day, and you’re glad that at least he has something to change into.

You make it inside and meet the owners then introduce yourself, stating that you reserved two rooms.

“I’m so sorry but we had to give up one of them,” the woman says. “A family came in with a baby and we couldn’t turn them away. The weather’s going to get worse tonight and we try to accommodate as many people as we can. I hope you understand.”

“That’s… that’s okay,” you say, knowing you would’ve done the same.

The thought of sharing a room with Jungkook feels too intimate and definitely not good for your heart, added to the fact that you’re probably not his favorite person right now, so you try to find a way out. You turn to the living room and see the sofa that’s big enough for you, so you ask if you can just stay there instead.

“Our cleaners will be using that space since they can’t go home due to the rain. I’m sorry again, Miss. Your room has twin beds so I hope that eases your worry somehow.”

“It’s fine, we’ll manage,” Jungkook says from behind you, hoping to the heavens that he will. He has one fear, and that’s you seeing how he really is during times like this.

He takes the key and walks up the stairs to the room you’re given. It’s spacious with a fair enough distance between both beds. He takes the one farther from the window then gets his clothes from his bag. It dawns on him that you don’t have your own with you, so he offers you his sweatshirt.

“It’s okay,” you shake your head. “It’s gonna be cold and you’re gonna need it.”

“So will you. You can’t be in wet clothes, not in this weather.”

“It’s happened before,” you shrug.

“___, just take it,” he insists, placing the item on your bed. “I have a top here that I can wear and the blankets will be enough. This is loose but it’s at least better than damp clothing. And you can go ahead in the bathroom. I’ll just give Mr. Ri a call.”

You nod and head out, taking his jumper and the towel with you. You’re given some basic toiletries, and the warm shower is just what you need for that bit of comfort after a stressful evening. As you’re about to dress up inside, you hear a knock on the door.

“I asked the lady if they had spare pajamas for you and she gave me a set,” Jungkook says from outside. “I’ll leave them on a stool by the door.”

You wait for him to leave before getting them and putting them on. It’s a plain set of shorts and shirt that’s a little big but it’s way better than your damp skirt and blouse, which the owners offered to wash and dry for you for tomorrow.

You return to the room with Jungkook sitting on the floor, and you give him back his sweatshirt that he turns down.

“I’m fine,” he insists. “Don’t you get cold easily? You’ll need that.”

He walks out, barely meeting your eyes. You’re sitting on the edge of your bed when he returns half an hour later, the sight of him with damp hair in black sweatpants and a white sleeveless top doing things to you. But you shake the thoughts away, especially as he once again creates that distance. He doesn’t look at you when he settles in bed, nor when he switches off his bedside light, and definitely not when he turns around to face the other way. You sigh to yourself, feeling even more alone now with him acting like this.

You can’t really blame him though. Dealing with something that elicits painful memories is difficult, and you understand the tendency to isolate yourself and push people away when that happens. It’s what you do sometimes, but still, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you a little when Jungkook does this to you, considering how good your relationship has become, regardless of your stupid attraction.

Settling in your bed, you decide to turn around and face the window. You focus on the droplets creating their own artwork on the glass, in hopes that it’ll help you take your mind off Jungkook, even if he’s literally just a few feet away from you. The last thing you want is a strained relationship, and you hope that this doesn’t make him fall back into his old ways. Although he’s experienced a few stressful moments these past months, they weren’t personal, and you suppose situations like this are when his emotions truly come out.

The rain has gotten stronger again and you’re pleased that Jungkook isn’t awake for this, based on the soft snores you hear. You’re about to fall asleep, the sound hypnotizing you a little, but that’s when the first blare of thunder strikes, causing you to jerk in bed in surprise. It used to scare you because of what it reminded you of, but you learned how to manage it after the first hit; the succeeding ones are no longer triggering. In fact, you just think of how it used to drown out the sounds of what you were truly afraid of.

Just then, you hear distressed moans. The sounds of frantic breathing and shifts on the bed follow right after. And then there’s a restrained groan, like a call for help that doesn’t fully come out, and that’s what alarms you. You immediately get off the bed and rush to Jungkook’s side. You see that he’s still asleep, his body - now uncovered by the blanket - is tense, despite his efforts of turning about. The low sounds of almost-cries convince you that he’s having a nightmare.

Thunder hits once again and it’s much louder this time, eliciting another frantic response from Jungkook. He’s kicking the covers while gripping the sheets, and with another roar of thunder that causes him to scream, that’s when you decide to wake him up.

“Jungkook, hey, listen to me,” you say, sitting on the edge of the bed and keeping his head still with your hands. You’re able to control him as he continues tossing and turning, repeating his name until he slowly opens his eyes. “Hey, you’re safe with me, okay? Just focus on my voice.”

He’s awake now and you see the worry in his eyes, but you talk to him calmly, wanting him to trust you. It works, as he nods and slows down his movements. But he’s still breathing heavily, his lips chattering and the rest of his body shivering.

You anticipate another hit of thunder, and you’re able to shield him from it, pressing your palms on his ears, trying to drown out the sound. You stay that way, thumbing his temples as you tell him it’s okay, that you’ve got him, and that it’ll be over soon. You hold his gaze to let him know that you’re not going anywhere, and his pretty eyes that often look so far away are now overtaken with fear.

“Just look at me, alright? And follow my breathing,” you instruct him, your voice as gentle as you can make it despite your own worries for him.

He does as you say, his hands gripping your wrists as if to keep them there, and you assure him that you won’t let go until he says so.

“You’re doing good, just keep breathing,” you repeat, pacing your breathing with his until you’re doing it together.

You don’t know how long you stay that way, with his head between your hands and your eyes locked on his. It takes a while, but the thunder eventually stops and the rain eases. Jungkook finally calms down and you slowly release him from your hold. You watch him shut his eyes, as if in desperation to let everything go, before he opens them again.

“Is that better?” You ask, moving just a bit farther from him to give him space, but you remain close, wanting to be next to him in case something happens again.

“Yeah, that was, uh… that was tiring,” he huffs.

“I think the thunder has passed but if it happens again, I’ll be here, okay?”

He nods, his soft and desperate eyes now looking at you to express his gratitude. You want so badly to hug him, to hold his still-shaking hands and assure him that he’s not alone, that you won’t let anything hurt him for the rest of the night, and that you understand it all - whatever it is he’s afraid of, and why he keeps it all to himself.

But you suppose that’s going too far. You’re afraid that you’d want to stay there, even more if he doesn’t want you to. So you nod as well and think that he at least has this to comfort him, that he at least knows you’re just there.

You walk back to your bed and lie down, facing him this time. You smile, wanting that assurance to be the last thing he sees before he falls asleep again. Jungkook does the same as he settles under the covers, patting it down so he could see you better. You both stay there, safe in your corners, your eyes telling each other things you can’t say.

Whatever distance you felt earlier has shortened. Right now, with both of you falling asleep to each other’s view, he’s never felt so close.

The morning after heavy rain is always bittersweet. There’s the reality of the damage it caused but you also can’t deny that it gives life to other living things. What it also does is make way for clear skies and give you that fresh, rainwater scent of the grass and the trees. It’s what you see and smell when you open the bedroom windows, reminding you that the evening has passed and the worst is over.

You spot Jungkook seated on one of the chairs in the garden, and you hope that the view is making him feel better, with the nightmare from last night slowly drifting away from his mind. You dress up in the dry clothes you find hanging on the doorknob of the room then head downstairs, surprised to see food prepared in the dining area. The tofu stew and grilled mackerel are so appetizing, and the loud rumbling of your stomach reminds you that you didn’t eat last night, with all the stress making dinner your last priority.

“Hello, dear. It was a pretty hard evening so we prepared something for our guests,” the owner says, her radiant smile reflecting the brightness of the day. “You may call your friend outside so you can both eat and get ready for a long drive home.”

You thank her then call Jungkook, his eyes brightening when he walks back inside and sees the food. He engages in conversation with the owners, asking about this town and the surrounding ones, and what their appeal is to non-residents. You gauge that he’s doing a bit of research himself, and you think he’s at least not too out of it to still do so.

“You’re free to stay until noon,” the owner informs you. “You can enjoy the view outside; it’s really pretty now that the sky has cleared. I’ll be making tea shortly as well.”

Jungkook says he’ll return to the garden and you wait for the hot drinks before following him. You’re unsure if he wants you around but you try, sitting next to him then sighing in relief when he doesn’t move away.

“I was 10 years old when my parents sent me and my brother to a cabin somewhere in Hwasun,” he starts. “I thought they were coming with us but it was just me and Jeong-sik and some staff. He and I never got along. If he wasn’t ignoring me, he was teasing me. But that day, he convinced me to play hide-and-seek, saying that by the time he finds me, our parents would be back. We were outdoors and I ended up wandering too far, so close to the woods that I couldn’t find my way back. My brother hadn’t come and I was getting scared. And then it started to rain.”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“It started getting stronger and the skies had become so dark, I could barely see anything,” he continues, his eyes fixed towards the mountains faraway. “The rain made the ground slippery so I decided to just sit by a large tree and hope someone would find me. It felt like hours and maybe it was. The thunder was so loud then and it kept going and going and going. And I was drenched and all alone, and no matter how hard I screamed, no one could hear me.”

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you say, feeling your heart break as he narrates a painful memory that you can relate with.

It’s only close to what you experienced yet it feels so real to you. You can feel his fear and his pain in the tremble of his voice, in the way he grips on the edges of the bench, in the way his jaw clenches at the memory, like it’s one he’s tried hard to bury yet can’t get rid of, no matter how hard he tries.

But this feels so personal, and you don’t want him to feel like he needs to share it with you.

“You don’t have to explain,” you add. “I know it’s difficult to share something like that.”

“But I want to,” he responds, turning to you now. “Because I’ve carried the memory with me for 20 years and I’ve been dealing with it all on my own. But that’s not an excuse to treat you the way I did last night. That’s not a reason for me to take it out on you and especially to blame you. That was wrong of me and I’m sorry, ___. I…”

He looks down, perhaps trying to gather the courage he needs to be honest with you, to be vulnerable with you.

“I don’t want you to think that I didn’t need you because I did,” he adds. “I was scared and I didn’t think I needed you but you were there and I’m so sorry.”

You sit there and watch him cower onto himself, and somehow you see the little boy who was scared, who was wondering why he’d been left alone, who was waiting for someone to come find him or perhaps… someone to sit there and be with him until the rain stopped. There’s a lot he carries; there’s also a lot he buries, as if there’s a bottomless hole within him where he keeps everything hidden but it still feels too heavy, too much, taking from him every time he hides something new.

You don’t say anything for a while, as you start to see Jungkook for who he really is. You feel the weight of his words and how much it took for him to say them. It’s not that his experience makes him different, but now that you know the pain he’s been carrying with him, you’re able to see the other parts of him that he’s unable to show, perhaps too afraid that someone wouldn’t understand, or that they wouldn’t stay if they found out why he keeps his distance and why he pushes people away.

Your silence prompts him to look up. You meet his eyes and see the sadness in them and it feels like he needs more than just forgiveness.

“We do things we don’t mean to when we’re afraid,” you tell him. “It doesn’t always mean we intend on hurting them. And I understand that, more than you know. I’ll never take that against you.”

Jungkook nods, shifting again towards the view as he lets your words sink in. He was hoping for forgiveness, but he got so much more. Maybe there’s a reason why you’ve been patient and gentle with him ever since the beginning. Perhaps you’re carrying your own burden and painful memories that you’re unable to share and deal with, too, and though he’s nothing like you, there’s comfort in knowing that you’re the same somehow.

He senses you turn back to look at the mountains, and the silence prompts him to continue the story of an experience he’s only shared twice before - once to his best friends and another time with Chaerin, all of whom have seen this side of him - the scared and vulnerable side. They were understanding and supportive as well, trying to find ways to comfort and help him deal with it. You’re the third and the one he’s known the shortest time, yet he feels more comfort with you than anyone who’s ever tried.

“I fell asleep at that tree while waiting,” he recalls. “The next thing I know, I was being carried back to the cabin. The rain had stopped but it was still dark, and I was tended to until I fell asleep again. I was sick for days and I didn’t see my parents until we were back in Seoul. It’s just a hard thing to remember. I know we have selective memories and I always wish that’s one thing that I don’t ever have to remember but life isn’t that kind, I guess.”

“It isn’t. But we learn to face those fears though, and manage them. It’s the only way we can get through it,” you say.

“Have you?” He asks, wondering if that’s another similarity he shares with you.

“Not really. I wouldn’t be alone and where I am if I have,” you say. “But I’m trying. And I’ll continue to.”

“That makes one of us,” he sighs.

“Well, it’s not always easy if you’re not quite sure what you’re really afraid of,” you respond. “Is it just thunder?”

“Yeah… but once the rain starts, it tells me that thunder could come. It doesn’t always but it’s what my brain tells me. Then I get anxious and I… I don’t know what to do. Like I’m paralyzed and unable to think or move. I just… stay there and sometimes, I don’t even know what’s happening.”

“Well, it rained when I got injured,” you remind him. “But you managed to get me to the hospital. And you stayed with me. That’s definitely something.”

“You were hurt and it was more important that you got treated,” he reasons. “That was scary and I guess my brain told me to get shit done that moment.”

“So… do I always have to be hurt for you to get through the rain when it starts getting bad?” You ask.

“Don’t talk like that. I can’t have you going through that again,” he frowns at you.

The way he reacts to the thought of you being hurt gives you that warm feeling again. But it reminds you that you feel the same. You don’t want him to be scared, you don’t want him hurt, too.

“Fine. But when it starts to rain and you’re all alone and you feel like you can’t manage, you call me, okay?” You tell him.

“And what would that do?”

“That way I can talk you through it. Maybe go to you if you want me to.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because during the times I was afraid and alone, you were there,” you bravely say, turning to him and prompting him to do the same. “Sometimes something triggers those memories but then I think of how you stayed with me in the alley and in the playground and in my apartment. I think of you and I stop feeling scared. Maybe you can think of last night when it starts to get bad, too. And we can just create more of those memories to override the bad ones. Wouldn’t that be better?”

He savors your words, not realizing how much you’ve held onto your moments together. And he understands that now. The way you held him together last night is ingrained in his mind, and if that’s how it feels to be with you during his darkest moments, he starts to wonder how good it would feel during the good ones.

Maybe he’ll start with this, as you both sip citrus tea while looking at the lush mountains out on the horizon. He’ll continue with the scenic drive back to Seoul and a stopover at a cafe for some iced coffee and conversations about good memories. And at least for today, he’ll end with the sight of you walking to your apartment and then turning around to wave him goodbye, and then your smile giving him warmth on this cold afternoon.

The door shuts and he starts the trip back to his place - empty, lonely, just like how it’s been for years, all his pent up emotions bringing him to this point of isolation. But there’s you - the feel of your touch, the soothing sound of your voice, and the gentleness that got him through the night.

He misses you already. And much as he knows he’s in big trouble, thinking about you and wanting you is all he could do.

Series Masterlist

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook series #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #boss jungkook #jungkook fanfic

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ilovedilfsandleonkennedy · 1 year ago

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thinking about sick ghost...

as soon as he steps through the door and takes his balaclava off, you attack him with kisses and hugs. he´s been gone for months now, on dangerous missions and you´re just happy to have your husband back in your arms again.

ghost holds you close to him, his arms wrapped around you tightly as he enjoys your warmth and scent.

he softly kisses the top of your head, "miss me lots, angel?"

"very," you grin up at him, your arms running down the sides of his bicep.

"i missed you too, lovie-" he suddenly sneezes, interrupting himself as he sniffles in embarrassment.

he coughs lightly, making you raise an eyebrow.

"let´s just ignore that, my love,"

"um let´s not?", you scoff, touching his forehead with the back of your hand, feeling him heating up, "you´ve clearly caught yourself a cold."

"love, it´s not that deep-" he begins.

"bed. now." you shut him up.

ghost frowns and pulls back slightly from your touch, trying to hide his discomfort, "i´m fine, lovie. it´s just a little sniffle, nothing to worry about,"

he tries to walk past you, but you block his way and cross your arms in front of your chest. ghost sighs heavily, desperately attempting to stifle a cough. he knows he won´t win this argument.

"fine, you win. i´ll go rest for a bit," he says, his thumb softly stroking the side of your face, "but don´t pamper me too much, alright?"

he grumbles as he makes his way to your shared bedroom, secretly enjoying your concern and care.

"oh, i will pamper you, big boy," you say, both your hands finding your hips, "lucky for you, i made soup and don´t pout, simon, it´s your favourite," you tell him, pinching his nose.

ghost can´t help but smile at your words,

"you always know how to take care of me, sweetheart."

—

some flufffff, pls excuse my english, its not my first language :))

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghostcod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #ghost call of duty #simon riley x you #x reader #fluff #ghost fluff #ghost x reader

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cherrydbear · 4 months ago

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Since y'all seemed to like this I'll keep rambling on the subject, I can do this all day. Here are some of those examples where I think their friendship really shines through:

From Sanji's perspective, this guy just showed up outside his restaurant one day, dueled the legendary swordsman who slashed Don Krieg's fleet to pieces, willingly got cut almost in two, nearly bled to death, was tied up by his own crew and then captured by the Arlong pirates, still singlehandedly escaped and came back to join the fight and defeated one of Arlong's best fighters, then nearly bled to death again and woke up just in time to drink himself silly at the afterparty. I've heard people say they "match each other's freak" and that's the truth. Sanji watches this absolute wackadoodle of a man and knows he's found someone who matches his freak. From Zoro's point of view, some cook at a floating restaurant just fed all of their enemies out of principle before kicking their butts. How could he not respect that sort of unconditional adherence to a sense of honor and justice? Especially considering he himself experienced starvation not too long ago in Shells Town. Now this cook, the newest stray in Luffy's collection, immediately proves himself to be immensely capable both in the kitchen and on the battlefield, incurs injury to himself without complaint to protect these people he barely knows, and still is the only person to come sit by Zoro and check up on him. So Zoro knows that Sanji has a heart of pure gold, and I think that's a big part of why he gets frustrated when Sanji tries to cover it up with bravado and perviness.

This scene was really interesting to me because usually when someone demands that Zoro does something, he grouches and grumbles about it, so in this case it seems he just spontaneously started helping out himself. And if there was ever a man whose love language is acts of service, it's Roronoa Zoro. He seems to be more of a "companionable silence" kind of guy, while Sanji's a talker and will say anything to keep feeling connected. Now, I don't know if this is just a me thing, but I like to say my friends' names a lot, even just because the association with them brings me joy, but I rarely use the names of people I'm not close with except to refer to them in third person or to get their attention. In this scene, it seems to me that Sanji keeps repeating Zoro's name as a way to show he's thinking about him and appreciates him being there, though I might just be projecting.

Now, I know shippers go crazy over this one, but I think it's honestly really solid platonic evidence and I'll tell you why (not to dissuade shipping, I think you have to be friends before you can be more than friends so all of this can be fuel for the ship too if you want it to be). Firstly, they're comfortable enough to sleep this close together. Sanji's resting his sleepy head right on Zoro's shoulder (it should have been me, not him) and Zoro just lets him. Also note real quick, only a short distance away Luffy is using Usopp as a pillow, so they're all a cuddly cozy little family. When Zoro notices Sanji mistakenly trying to kiss him, he doesn't even move away, he just makes a face and waits for Sanji to wake up so he can make fun of him. Sanji, for his part, doesn't act embarrassed or disgusted that it turned out to be Zoro there, only playfully mad about his expression. They squabble for a few moments before Luffy pushes past them and they turn their attention to the next thing, argument forgotten, proving that neither was actually angry about anything and they were merely enjoying the opportunity to bicker.

This is from the hunting competition in Little Garden that I mentioned before. I just wanted to point out that both of them are grinning and clearly having a grand time.

(I love how Sanji's hands are just massive sometimes.) They have the entire forest clearing, and Sanji chooses to sit his little booty down right next to Zoro and toss his food at him. They're just like those kids in elementary who had beef over who has a more impressive Pokémon collection and would always sit next to each other at lunch to compare cards and play together at recess but claim they're archnemeses. And for as much as Sanji implied to Usopp (though oblivious) that the heart shaped vegetables were just for the ladies, he did choose to make it and serve it to the whole crew. Speaking of the ladies, Sanji is always adamant about protecting them, but he was perfectly fine with leaving Nami and Robin in Zoro's care, just as Zoro trusted Sanji to take care of Luffy and Usopp.

I also loved how Sanji packed Zoro a cute little lunchbox for exploring and he was NOT going to let no stupid south bird take it from him.

Alright that's all for today folks I gotta wake up in like 5 hours for work lol

Continuation from this post

#one piece #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #zosan #mine

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steviebbboi · 3 months ago

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Old Bonds, New Beginnings

Pairing: Biker!Ari x F!Reader

Part 1/2

Word Count: 8.4k~ (i think i have ruined myself)

Summary: You and Ari grew up together as childhood best friends to now reluctant strangers. Let adrift by leading the "Red Sea Roaders MC," and with you taking over your father's floral shop, the two of you are polar opposites. What happens when Ari takes a risk in rekindling a connection with you?

Disclaimer: This is from the results of this poll~ i'm hoping that biker!Ari is as satisfying to read as it was to write him. This is a two-parter though so peep what is to come too! We don't see too much biker interaction in part 1 but don't worry, we will 😏 also, this work is unbeta'd so any mistakes you see are totally my bad!

Warnings/Triggers: 18+ Minors DNI; semi-mentions of assumed violence, mentions of illegal activity, mentions of underage/teenage 'first times' (with reader being in freshmen yr into sophmore yr, while ari was junior yr into senior yr of highschool), explicit language, explicit smut, oral sex (f. receiving), p in v, size kink, mild angst and grief from both reader and Ari, nostalgia, fluff, SQUIRTING galore, Ari is worshipping Reader (as he should), slight/mild dumbification, overstimulation, reader is thIQUE, Sharon is mentioned but not featured, highkey mutual pining and love, *smut is after the floral cut!

*if i have left anything out, please feel free to lmk!

It means so much to me for my work to get out there in reaching other folx who may also really enjoy Biker!Ari and Reader. If you could kindly reblog my work as you enjoy reading it, I would be immensely grateful. Every reblog also serves as such a motivator to help me continue writing~ thank you so very much for interacting with me and hoping to connect soon <3

Gathering twine, you wrap the delicate stems together mindfully as you feel a smile grow upon your face. The bouquet held together a mix of peonies and geraniums – two underrated flowers, in your opinion.

Involuntarily, you start humming that tune that you heard earlier that day as you continued to strategically put together delicate arrangements. So caught up in the song, you didn’t hear the store bell ring as you went into the backroom for more twine.

“Hell-ooo? Can I get some help here?” A voice complained from the front. You quickly placed the flowers down and walked through the doorway to see a man looking at his watch impatiently as he waited for you to reach the front desk. You saw his face change into something akin to surprise as you noticed his impatience shift into a semblance of a smirk as he scrutinized you.

“Ugh, here we go.” You thought to yourself as you internally rolled your eyes at the man. He was quite handsome, but not really your type. His hair sported a nice quaff to it and a thin layer of hair covering his face. He was donning a bold, red suit and a nice pair of Ferragamos oxfords. Undoubtedly, a man with money. What he was doing in a flower shop downtown– you speculated that he was definitely picking up for his wife, or girlfriend.

“Or both,” You thought with a small smirk as you greeted him.

The man proceeded to put on his charm as he grinned at you. “Hey sweetheart, I was wondering if you could help me figure out the best flowers to pick out for my girlfriend?”

“Which one?” You asked him. He blinked and responded dumbly, “W-which one?”

You blinked back at him innocently, “Yes…as in, which kind of flowers were you thinking of?”

The man paused and closed his eyes in embarrassment. “Ah, right.” As he gathered himself, you couldn’t help but purse your lips to continue covering your knowing smirk as your previous theory just got confirmed. Works every time.

You straightened up as he continued, “I was thinking maybe roses? That’s classic ‘romance’ that you can’t really go wrong with, right?”

Responding with a resounding hum and tilt to your head, “Roses are a classic. You could always put together a few different kinds, depending on the occasion. Is there something specific that you’re trying to convey?” You lead him towards the back of the store towards some pre-wrapped rose bouquets sitting waiting to be picked.

“I showed up late to a date so I figured I’d do something nice to make up for it, y’know. Make her happy, I guess.” The man said nonchalantly as he placed his hands in pockets uncaringly.

You’re turned away from him, thankfully, as your eyes really did roll this time. “You would probably make her happy if you were on time instead.” You thought sardonically. You see men like this everyday, coming into your store and having so many assumptions on how to make up for careless mistakes that never get rectified. Most men tended to think that flowers would be enough, and your heart went out to every single one of their partners and wished them better.

“Sure, hm, maybe these?” You turned with the bouquet in hand and noticed that he stood way too close to you, and from the look on his face, he knew it too.

You felt your hackles rise as you uncomfortably cleared your throat and used the bouquet as a divider between the two of you to create some space. You held it out to him and backed up a few feet, “What are your thoughts?”

Unfortunately, it’s these same men who also take one look at you and decide that you’re worthy prey enough to make you girlfriend #5.

The man simply smirked at the distance that you created and said, “Looks great. Let’s do it.”

You muttered out a relieved “great” and started to walk towards the front of the store again to ring him up, eager to get this sale over with so that he could leave. Unbeknownst to you, the man was staring at your ass as you walked away and muttered out a quiet, “damn.”

You turned to stand behind the counter and proceeded to wrap up the bouquet into a protective layer of transparent plastic when he said, “So, what’s a pretty thing like you working in a shop like this?”

Not even bothering to hide your dismayed reaction, you let out a sigh and responded, “Well, like most ‘pretty things’ do, I decided to own my own shop, just like this.” You ended your reply with a sardonic laugh. The mocking tone in your voice was unmistakable as you slid the finished product across the desk for him to take.

“That’ll be an even $85, sir.” You looked at him blankly as his eyes narrowed in annoyance, both from your sarcasm and when hearing the price.

“$85 for this heap of crap that’ll die in a few days?!” He exclaimed disbelievingly.

You wanted to respond with, “It’s not like you can’t afford it, asshole,” but your head won out and spoke for you, “They’re in season– but considering that they were already prepared for you, this is a pretty considerate price, sir.”

The man just let out a huff and was about to argue with you more until his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the name, rolling his eyes. Given how he proceeded to neglect your current conversation and went to text harshly instead, you predicted that it was either work or the aforementioned girlfriend. Which number, well, given the excessive frown that was adorning his face, you’d guess #1.

The man shoved his phone back into his pocket forcefully and pulled out his wallet from the other. “‘Considerate’, my ass.” You heard him whisper to himself before saying loudly, “You’re lucky that I respect the nature of good business, sweetheart.” You nodded your head mindlessly as you swiped his card with a smirk. You’re guessing that it was girlfriend #1, for sure.

“Suuuure, pleasure doing business then, sir.” You tell him with an overgrown smile on your face and wave.

He rolled his eyes at you and left with flowers in tow as he rushed out. Looks like he was going to be late again. Now that you were alone, you let out a shameless, hearty laugh at your own quips as you started towards the back area again to continue your original task. Right before you turned though, you heard the roves of familiar engines revving outside. Leaning forward and resting your elbows on the counter, you stared at the incoming troves of motorcycles as they slowed into a stop for the bar across the street.

Resting your face in your hands, your eyes caught sight of one bike in particular, or rather, the owner of said bike.

Ari Levinson, your childhood best friend. Certifiably scary to public onlookers on the outer circle, but huge fluff ball on the inside and to all those that actually knew him. You grew up together, given that both of your father’s were friends and next door neighbors. You remember fondly of a time when you and Ari were chasing each other with water hoses in your front lawn, so young and lively. He was a few years older than you but that didn’t stop you both from playing together from sunrise till sundown.

Your smile waned as you were brought back to reality. Nowadays, you rarely have the chance to catch up with the guy, much less chase each other with water hoses. The reality was that the happy go-lucky kids that grew up together, grew apart. Ari took over the club once his dad died, and you were just sort of…forgotten about. You distinctly remember getting rejected over and over again.

“I can’t see you right now, bun.” or “I’m really busy, we’ll catch up later.”

There were just too many deflections and excuses, so many where you just stopped trying to reach out. You moved away for college and came back to help take care of your dad’s floral shop now that he’s retired. Ever since you moved back a few weeks ago, Ari always smiled at you fondly and you always smiled back but that was the end of any interactions that you’ve had. It felt like that part of your life ended when Ari took the club 10 years ago. You have no idea what Ari is really like now either. Perhaps, you’ve become a part of the outside circle looking in.

Of course, it didn’t stop your crush on him. How could you not have feelings for him? Standing at 6,’’ burly and massive build, full beard and lush hair that curled at the nape of his neck and shagged around his ears, whilst donning a classic leather jacket with silver adornments and all. He was gorgeous, was all man, and so deliciously off-limits.

For a variety of reasons, one of those being Sharon. Ari’s on/off girlfriend since high school where you all met– classic mean girl bullshit, in your opinion. Not only was it the club keeping you two separated, but also Sharon’s decisively demanding and obsessed nature with keeping your hang-outs limited and separate.

As far as you know, they were ‘off’ and have been for a long time. But it doesn’t stop the glares that you receive from her to this day. You laugh about it now, but you do remember all those ‘private chats’ that Sharon pulled you aside for to warn you in ‘backing off’ from stealing Ari’s time. Luckily for her, you and Ari were starting to become on the outs at that time anyway. It was annoying to deal with, but it served as more reinforcement for you to continue forward with your life without him, detached and ready to move on and to be fair, you did.

You graduated college, took on a stable job, and built a community before moving back home. You were fortunate enough to still have some of that now that you’re back too. As for your own romantic life, there have been some hitters. A few who have stayed for some time, either resulting in more heartbreak or a complacent parting.

But never did any of those partners linger and stay with you like how Ari has since you were five years old. You barely knew each other now, there was an animosity there that felt so unresolved but neither of you ever talked about the past, nor drifting apart. Despite this, he still hasn’t really strayed from your heart, not really.

Brought back to the present, you watched as Ari climbed off of his bike, and playfully pushed another biker around before they all started entering the bar. Right before he entered, Ari looked behind his shoulder and you started a bit because he was looking back at you. And you just got caught staring at him first.

You flushed and looked away a bit until you realized that playing it off would probably be even more embarrassing than it would to confront it. You met his stare through the window and caught a smirk on his face as he waved at you. You let out a small laugh and waved back sheepishly. At your response, Ari gave you a gentle smile before tilting his head towards the bar, as if he was inviting you to go over.

You blinked in surprise and instinctively, you gave a regretful shake of your head before waving over at the register to indicate that you were still working. Ari looked disappointed but nodded anyway before giving you one last wave. You responded in kind and he headed inside.

At his departure, the only thing that you were gazing over at were these motorcycles lined up in similar fashion. The main thing that has held you back from even approaching Ari again was glaring right back at you. As you turned to the back once more, you mindlessly continued to put together bouquets as you got lost in your thoughts once more.

You were both adults now, you could go over and say hi. Hell, maybe even spark a conversation about the past for nostalgia’s sake. But it didn’t change the fact that Ari ran a biker’s club that called themselves a ‘club’, but also did very not so legal things.

Rumors started when other biker clubs started coming down from nearby towns or cities. A variety of men and women adorning different cuts and entering the bar across the street wearing stormy expressions. Increased police force around town hasn’t escaped people’s nosy gazes either. It was known that there was obviously something more to the group but nobody questioned it because, well, there really wasn’t any reason to do so.

Beyond a few bad apples here and there, the members of the club were relatively respectful of everyone residing in the neighborhood. Most members themselves were from home, and were known to help out here and there, whether it be through making public donations to charity fundraisers or helping a person put their groceries away.

No doubt, knowing Ari since you were a kid, you suspect that most of the peace has been kept because of him. In retrospect, you weren’t surprised that Ari started pulling away when he did. You both knew what taking over the club would mean for him, and you remember the constant conversations, some tear-filled, of Ari experiencing the pressures of taking the mantle from his father.

You tried your best to comfort him, given what little you did know about the club, but you knew that Ari didn’t really have a choice. While you didn’t remember much about the club when his father was running it, you did remember the strain it had on his relationship with Ari. They weren’t particularly close but they loved each other, in their own way. Being a witness to it helped you become a support system for Ari (and in alot of ways, Sharon too).

While it hurt to be discarded by him the way that he had, the years have taught you resiliency and forgiveness that people are responsible for their lives and what they make of it. You couldn’t fault Ari for trying to do the best with his life as well.

You kept these thoughts close to you as you closed the store for the day. You were pulling down the gated shutters of the store to lock it up when you heard him.

“Finally closing down for the day, bun?” Turning around quickly to face the deep, baritone voice that has haunted you since you were younger, you see Ari smiling at you with upturned lips and his hands in his jacket pockets.

You gulp down a swallow of surprise at the fact that the boy that you have had lifelong feelings for was now a man, who was actually looking and talking to you. You haven’t heard that nickname spoken from him in a long time, and blinked once or twice before responding, “Ari, hi, yeah, I’m about to head out.”

Hearing your own voice, so breathy and soft, made you flush once more. Ari only held his grin at the sight and said, “Would you wanna come get a drink with me and the guys before you head out?”

Instinctively, you shook your head once again at the offer and gave him a reluctant smile. “It’s getting a little dark and I was planning on walking home.”

On hearing that, Ari frowned, “What do you mean, don’t you usually drive into work?”

You frowned at his questioning tone and replied, “I do, but I had to leave the car at Tony’s shop since last week. They’re still waiting for the parts to come in before they could fix it.”

Ari was still frowning as he listened to you, “Bunny, that’s at least a 20 minute walk. It can get dangerous around here this late.”

“Ari, it’s fine. I’m a big girl now, y’know.” You said defensively. You had no idea where he got off scolding you. It’s not like he was around for you to tell him anyways.

Ari sighed and gave you this look as if he were supposed to be told. “I know that, bunny. Trust me, I know.” You frowned again, slight suspicion flooding you at his tone. Especially at the latter half of his response, what is that supposed to mean?

Ari placed his hands on his hips before sighing out, “Okay, come get a drink with me and I’ll take you home.”

Your eyes widened at his offer as he sounded so resolute. “W-what, no–Ari, I’m fine. If I get going now, I’ll make it home before the sun completely sets.”

He returned your defense with his own, “Yeah, well, just because it’s not dark out, doesn’t mean that something won’t happen.”

You released a disbelieving scoff, “Dude, what do you mean-- what could possibly happen?”

Ari stammered out, “I mean, I dunno– bears, wolves! One of ‘em could just come out as you’re walkin’ on the road and then what?” He held out his hands as if it explained everything.

You stared at him with your mouth slightly agape and your brows furrowed at listening to his excuse. You stood there in silence and before you could stuff it down, a smile started to creep upon your face and you let a short laugh that fully erupted into a full giggle. Watching your reaction, Ari also closed his eyes in mirth and started chuckling with you.

You were still giggling as you say in-between catching your breath, “Do you mean to say, lions, and tigers, and bears, oh my!?” You finished with a mocking flourish before releasing a bellowed laugh, your eyes squeezed shut in giddiness.

Ari was full on laughing with you as you made the remark, “Okay, Dorothy – you could shut up now. I heard it as soon as I said it.”

Letting out one last resounding exhale, “It’s okay, Tin-man. I think that I’m familiar with the yellow brick road. I don’t need you to be so worried about me, okay? I’m fine.”

Ari’s eyes glinted at your retort although he sobered up at your continued reassurance. “What- you don’t wanna spend time with you best friend anymore, is that it?”

You recognized the teasing glint in his tone but took notice of this sadness in his eyes. You felt genuinely confused, and concerned, at the sight. Ari was always noticeably mellow and calm when he was around you, even during the smaller interactions that you’ve had throughout the years. This look in his eyes though was new. Or, maybe you never got close enough to really see it.

At that thought, your own sadness seeped in. “That’s not true, Ari. It’s just…” You trailed off, not being able to figure out how to communicate with this person that you didn’t know anymore, but felt so deeply for. How do you tell someone that you miss them, miss their presence, but that time has done its job of making you feel like strangers? That, he, was what caused them to spend time apart in the first place?

You moved on from that. It’s not like you’re aiming to make him feel sad or anything – you just felt so uncomfortable around him despite that moment that you two just had. It was just another reminder of what life would've looked like if you were still in each other’s lives.

Ari let your silence permeate in the space as he finished for you, “It’s just that I haven’t been your best friend in a long time.”

You just looked at him sadly and nodded softly. “It’s…been a long time, Ari.” He looked noticeably sad hearing that as you continued assuringly, wanting to get him to smile again. “But..I miss you lots, Tin-man.”

Echoing the mirthy moment that you had just a few minutes before, the sadness in his eyes was replaced with an affection that you also haven’t seen from him in a long time. It made you feel affectionate in return as you took the invisible olive branch that was present and leaned forward to grab his hand in yours, the same way that you would when you were younger.

Ari let out a breath at the touch of your soft skin on his calloused hand. He gave you a soft smile again while he squeezed your hand in relief. He pulled you forward, the move causing you to let out a surprised squeak, and tugged you to be cradled in his large embrace. The top of your head barely met the middle of his chest as you stood ramrod still, unused to the intimacy that you were now being bestowed.

He seemed oblivious to the stiffness in your body as he only tugged you in closer and rested his head on yours while his arms hugged you around your shoulders and waist. As you stood there, with Ari hugging you, you became increasingly relaxed and moved to put your own arms around his thick waist. At the return of your embrace, Ari let out another relieved sigh and squeezed you tighter. You both started to sway a bit as time went on, the hug never turning awkward nor tense as hands also started to roam reassuringly across waists and backs.

“I’m sorry, bunny.”

The apology though did take you off guard. You didn’t tense up but you did stop swaying. You paused before responding, “It’s okay, Ari.”

There was a lot that you wanted to say in that moment, and ask him, but you felt hesitant to even go down that path. You certainly didn’t expect for this to happen this morning, and it was overwhelming enough that you were laughing with and hugging Ari. The fact that he actually apologized opened up a depth and well of emotion that you didn’t know needed to be opened until he said the words. It seemed like Ari understood that as he pulled back and looked into your tear-shining eyes gazing back up at him. He knew that you’d come to him when you were ready.

One hand left your waist to caress your soft cheek, Ari’s thumb brushing underneath your eye to catch the tear that did fall over. You closed your eyes at how suffocatingly close he felt, his warm, embracing body pressed against yours so intimately.

“This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” Ari whispered to you quietly as his fingers moved to caress your hairline right by your temple. His eyes looked at you so fondly and intensely as he continued to touch you. Almost as if he was trying to paint a vivid picture of you with his touch into his mind.

You felt so mesmerized by his gaze as your hands unconsciously caressed him back as your hands resumed making small, slow circles on his vast back. “What do you mean?” You whispered back.

Ari let out a quiet and humming chuckle, “Aw, don’t tell me that our first kiss was that bad, bunny.”

Blinking in surprise at the sudden inserted memory, you started to giggle softly again as he pulled you in closer to his frame. “Oh god, at the freshmen year dance, right?” Ari hummed his agreement as you continued remembering, “Wow, I completely forgot about that. You remember that?”

He was still caressing your face as his thumb drifted down to softly outline the outer edges of your lips. His gaze was still so intense and deep as he said, “I remember everything.”

Your breath hitched at the sensual turn of his voice and at the touch of his thumb now caressing your lips lovingly. You started to blush as the memory persisted at you to be inclusive of what happened after your first kiss. Ari was able to sneak you into his house and into his room, where the both of you continued to make out, but it was also where you ultimately decided to have Ari be your first. He was a little older than you so even though you weren’t his first, you trusted him. It was that night that you realized that your feelings for Ari went beyond just friendship.

You didn’t know it, but it was that moment where Ari realized his own feelings for you too. But that was when his dad was starting to tell him about taking over for the club, and he knew that he couldn’t drag you with him too. Then, he met Sharon (a very vivid mistake that he was still trying to detach from) and all he could think of when he was with her was relief that at least she wasn’t you. You didn’t deserve to have your light tarnished by what was to come.

Still astonished by the flood of memories now crashing back at you, your heart fluttered at how dark Ari’s eyes have gotten since you gazed into them. His thumb now pressing firmly against your bottom lip, you let him graze his finger down against the seam of your plush lips. You gasped quietly as the tip of his thumb also brushed against your wet tongue. Ari released a deep groan at the sight, your responsiveness affecting him just as much.

Your breathing started getting heavier as the tension between you intensified. Your eyes looked up at him again underneath your eyelashes and your eyes held such adoration and desire. It was that look that you didn’t even know that you were giving him that made Ari mutter a low fuck before grabbing your face between his two palms and pressed his lips against yours.

Your hands grasped at the back of his jacket so desperately as you met his kiss just as fervently. Ari kissed you deeply as one of his hands left your face to stroke across your back and downwards to seek a needy grip around your waist. His hand squeezed your hip and you moaned into the kiss while you stood on your tiptoes to clutch onto his broad shoulders and tangle your fingers into his soft hair.

It was Ari’s turn to let out a groan as you tugged gently on his hair. He lifted you off your feet to relieve the strain of your height difference and your legs draped around his waist with another surprised squeak. Still kissing you, he walked two steps towards the dark, side alley of your store building to press you against the brick wall. The both of you let out a resounding groan into each other’s mouths at the feel of Ari’s erection pressing against your warm center covered only by denim and tights.

Ari gently licked the seam of your lips for permission and you let out another breathy moan at the feel of his soft tongue caressing yours. He slanted his lips and moved a strong hand to grip your jaw, almost squeezing your cheeks together, for a better angle. The feeling that washed over you was hot and almost overwhelming as you intrinsically felt how much strength and power the man held as he seamlessly took your weight, and as his hand and mouth took control of the pace of your brazen kiss.

You felt his other hand softly stroke your outer thigh to push up towards the back of your skirt and graze over your sculpted ass. You released another mewl at the feel of him in such an intimate place and you felt Ari growl lowly into the kiss as his tongue almost lapped at yours.

Hearing a car honk next to you broke you out of your little hedonistic bubble and you reluctantly broke away from your kiss. You let out a giggle as that only succeeded in Ari’s lips following yours and his hot, wet tongue tried to engage you in your makeout again. He smiled against your lips as you whimpered at the slow but intense move and his lips worked for a minute until you detached him from again. Ari groaned but respected the small distance placed between your faces.

“I’m sorry, bunny. Was it too much?” Ari asked as he caught his breath.

You giggled and his eyes softened at the sound. “No,” you kissed him softly one more time before leaning your forehead against his, “just, not here.”

Ari’s eyes gleaned darkly as his desire for you clamored wildly once more. Ari said your name so soft and faint, you could barely hear him. “I miss you too. Can I take you home with me, bun?”

You looked back at him with pleading, affectionate eyes and the only word that you could say was, “Please.”

Ari nuzzled the tip of his straight nose against your button one and gave you a lasting, thorough kiss before letting you down and taking your hand in large one, striding towards his bike to take you home.

Entering Ari’s bedroom was surreal. The last time that you were here, you both were so young and you haven’t had life happen to you yet. Now, 10 years later, with Ari looking at you with so much warmth and endearment, it had felt like no time has passed at all.

You released another soft whimper as Ari’s large hands caressed your breasts through your undershirt. You were laying in his bed in your camisole and panties, his naked, taut and tattooed torso pressing against yours. The hard press of his erection felt crushing on your increasingly dampening panties as he slotted himself between your legs.

His tongue expertly brushed yours in another languid kiss. His mouth dragged away from your mouth to kiss the side of your jaw and drift down towards your neck. Ari sensually placed slow, wet kisses behind your ear and softly kissed down only to then lick a stripe up your neck. You gasp out a whine at how hot you felt, as you haven’t felt passion like this in such a long time.

Ari gripped your neck firmly for his thumb to caress your jaw line until he could turn your face so that he could whisper in your ear. “I’ve wanted to do this again for so long, bunny. You have no idea.”

You could only gasp out his name as you felt his warm breath tickling your skin. “I want you, Ari, please.”

Ari groaned deeply and kissed the side of your ear softly, “You have me, baby. You always have.” He kissed his way back to your waiting mouth and you kissed him back eagerly as your tongues stroked each other with something akin to neediness.

The both of you have been wanting each other for so long, it was seemingly clear to the both of you that you were making up for lost time starting now.

Ari stopped kissing you only to reach for the bottom of your tank top and lift the shirt off over your head, exposing your lucious, round breasts. Your light and tan areolas, nipples pert and ready to be suckled had Ari lean down to lick softly and suck gently into his impatient mouth.

Your nipples were connected straight to that pit of pleasure in your stomach as you let out a wanton moan. Ari kissed and licked between your breasts before drifting down the center of your soft stomach, placing wet kisses as he went. His eyes never left yours as his hands reached up to squeeze the wet tips of your nipples and eventually drift down the soft sides of your tummy.

Feeling overstimulated by his touch, you held no restraint for the noises coming out of your mouth. You felt tears creeping in the corner of your eyes at how badly you wanted him to keep caressing you with his calloused, big hands and for his hot mouth to never leave your supple skin.

Ari took in all of your moans and whimpers and he could feel his own restraint waning as he crept closer to your clad-covered pussy. Paired with your cute noises, seeing the thin fabric wetly sticking to your drenched slit made Ari inhale deeply. A picture of you in this moment was made complete when he took in the scent of your weeping cunt and Ari’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he released a low, guttural moan, “Fuuuck, bunny. I can’t wait anymore.”

You cried out in surprise as Ari’s tongue dragged up against your wet slit through your underwear. His mouth never left your cunt as he attempted to suck your juices through the fabric, groaning as he did it. Kissing up your mound, his fingers found the sides of your underwear hugging your hips only to drag it down harshly. The scent and first taste of you making him feral as he practically ripped your underwear down your legs.

The fabric still resting in around one ankle, Ari couldn’t wait as he proceeded to stuff his face full of your dripping pussy. Crying out loudly at the sensation of Ari’s mouth ravishing you, your hips started writhing on the bed to get closer to his mouth as your hands fisted the sheets next to your head.

You gasped out for breath as you felt Ari’s tongue lap at the wet on your lips before cutting through to lap at your pulsing clit. Letting out his own hums of satisfaction, Ari motioned his tongue in drawing slow and steady figure eights on your bundle of nerves as his lips closed over and sucked.

The suction of his lips and the steady pressure of his wet tongue on your clit felt so giving as you started keening for more. Your hips elevated off the bed, you could feel the wet that was pooling underneath the sheets trying to cling to your wet cunt as Ari followed your motions to keep sucking at your pink pearl. Ari grunted as he felt you try to escape his zealous mouth and used his forearm to bring you back down to the bed. His shoulders leaned further on top of you to keep them from closing. He kept one hand around the soft pudge of your stomach for leverage as he continued burrowing himself into your soaked pussy.

You fervently tried to arch up from Ari’s voracious tongue as it swirled against your clit only to catch at your opening. Ari smiled against your cunt and was openly groaning as he caught more of you in his mouth as his tongue swept up to thrust into you softly. You released a high pitched whimper as you feel Ari shake his head gently to get his tongue deeper inside you. Lapping for the wetness inside you, your thighs started to shake involuntarily. You felt the pleasure grow and expand to the tight knot that was held internally.

“Ari, oh god, I’m so c-close, please, please. I need to cum, please.” You begged him with your eyes rolled back in your head. Your hands reached down as you felt him retreat from your pussy and you released an affronted whine as your hand went to the back of his quickly to push his mouth back onto your pulsing, needy cunt.

Ari only laughed against your pussy and lapped faster, almost inhaling your sweet wetness as it covered the tip of his nose and all over his mouth and chin. The only sounds that could be heard were your short breathed whimpers, and the sounds of your squelching pussy juices being sucked by Ari’s ravenous mouth.

Your hips were grinding against his tongue as you chased your release. Your breath stilted as you felt the flat of Ari’s eager tongue press down hard against your clit to create an enveloping, suction sensation that just felt so wet and warm, you jolted forward with a loud cry as your orgasm hit intensely.

It felt never ending as Ari’s tongue never stopped its pressured motions on your clit and your eyes rolled back again as your second release unexpectedly crept up and squirted all over Ari’s waiting mouth. He groaned his pleasant surprise as he lapped up the wave of gush from your sobbing pussy earnestly, and only stopped lapping at you once you moved a hand to his forehead to push him away from your sated hole.

Ari was breathing just as heavily as you as he gazed at your pulsing pussy in the aftermath of being thoroughly destroyed by his mouth. “Aw, bunny, look at you. You’re shakin’ for me.”

He stroked his hand down your trembling body to gently brush his thumb against your swollen clit and you jumped from how sensitive you were. But Ari didn’t notice as his greedy only eyes saw another seep of cum drip down your hole. He couldn’t help but do it again as he saw more cum spurt out of you, and his tongue moved faster before he could help himself by sweeping in with his tongue on your opening to catch more of it in his mouth.

You let out a choked sob at feeling his tongue on your cooling, wet flesh once more. Ari didn’t stop stroking his calloused thumb against your overstimulated clit as he lapped at your opening over and over again. Not having enough rest time in between your last two orgasms, your third was unrestrained as you went quiet, your eyes rolled in the back of your head, looking possessed as you squirt hard from the fast pressure of both his thumb and tongue stimulating you at the same time.

Ari released his own resounding hum of gratification of feeling your wetness coat his tongue completely as he swallowed your cum down his throat. Your eyes were still rolled behind your head as you let out quiet grunts of relief, the knot at your stomach so unraveled and your body felt so pliant and loose. You only came to when you felt Ari’s wet, bearded mouth press kisses on your still trembling inner thighs and back towards your torso to gently suck on your nipples.

Feeling so hazy and barely there, you moaned quietly as he swirled his warm tongue on your nipple until he was kissing back up towards your chapped lips. Ari’s tongue quickly fixed that though as he made sure to lick up into your mouth, coating your tongue in your own essence.

You lazily stroked yours back against his in deep gratitude and immense sensuality. Ari let out a small, almost condescending laugh against your lips. “You okay, bun? Do you think I got your pretty pussy wet enough to take my cock?”

“Yes,” you whispered desperately against his mouth that was still leaving kisses on your open lips. “I can take it, please.”

Ari huffed out a disbelieving breath on your bottom lip at how good he has it right now. “God, you’re such a good girl, bunny. That’s right, I know you can take it. Think I need to prep you a little more okay, honey?”

You let out another affronted whine and no as you attempted to reach for his cock between you. Your hand landed right on his large, hard appendage and you stroked him as he let out relieved moans at the feeling of your small hand on his covered cock. Reaching down, Ari pulled down his own boxer briefs until your hand could feel his soft flesh.

Groaning loudly at the skin to skin contact, Ari let you squeeze his cock and stroke it with slow motions as he stroked two fingers against your wet lips and into your soft fleshy tongue. You moaned while sucking the digits in your mouth and stroked your tongue against them erotically. Ari groaned and bit his lip at watching your lips suck on fingers before pulling out of your mouth to reach down and stroke at your clit again.

Your hips raised as your pussy felt so sensitive and yet the pressure felt so fucking good at the same time. Ari chuckled again as he thrust his middle finger inside your tight cunt. Your teary eyes rolled again with a pleasured frown at the intrusive feeling. He lets out a resounding moan at the feeling of your wet channel squeezing his finger, “Damn baby, your pussy is so fucking tight. I have to work you up some more, okay, bunny? I don’t wanna hurt you.” You whined your assent as he thrusted his finger slowly before attempting to add in another.

You tensed up a bit when he tried and in a quick move, Ari leaned down to take your responsive clit in his mouth once more. Gasping out a moan at the sudden stimulation, that familiar pleasure swept back into your stomach. He felt your wet hole give more and more as you relaxed for him. He swirled his tongue against your clit and motioned his fingers inside your pussy in a “come hither” motion. Your eyes widened and you let out a chirp at the feeling of his fingers grazing your g-spot.

Ari’s eyes found yours as he looked up at you, releasing your clit with a soft and wet pop, “Ah, there it is, bunny, I got you.” At his words, you could only let out another lewd moan that became increasingly louder as his mouth went back to lapping at your clit in quick motions.

Your already glazed over eyes and fucked out look had Ari react wildly again, “Fuck, baby, I can’t get enough, I need one more taste, just one more.” You were so out of it, getting lost in your pleasure that you didn’t know what he was really referring to until he placed one large hand on top of your soft, pillowy stomach and pressed down while his fingers seemed to press deeper and faster inside of you.

Letting out a high pitched wail, your whole body locked stiffly as you felt it coming again. With a prolonged keen, you squirted your pleasure intensely as Ari continued to almost aggressively finger your g-spot while catching as much cum as he could in his mouth. Your whole body was twitching and squirming as you could only let out a few shaky breaths as aftershocks rolled through your used body.

Ari was breathing heavily as he gave one last craved lick up the cut of your pussy before withdrawing his fingers slowly for him to sit up and hold his heavy cock in his cum-drenched hand. You peered up at Ari with glazed over eyes to see his mouth and chest covered in his own sweat and your cum as he grasped his wide, girthy cock and aligned it with your quivering opening.

Not even allowing you to take a break, Ari knew that you would take him easier with your body completely relaxed and open like this. You were coherent enough to feel the tip of his hard cock nestle and rub against your tender clit until he reached down and plunged slowly into your tight core.

The both of you released a combined sound of a relieved sigh and gratified moan at the feeling of your pussy taking him in so smoothly. Since he entered slowly, you could feel every inch of his thick, veiny cock press inside of you.

Ari’s mouth was agape, his blue eyes stormy and narrowed as he stared at how his cock entered you, as he also indulged in the tightness and warmth of your sweet cunt. He withdrew from your pussy with a satisfied grunt, “See, bunny– fuuuuck, you’re taking me so well. I knew you could do it.”

You smiled gently and whimpered at his praise, you felt so cared for while Ari continued to thrust into you deeply. Succumbing to the filthy pleasure of his cock, your eyes rolled back in your head again as you released whimpered, soft ‘ngh’ sounds from your parted lips with every thrust he gave you. Letting out his own guttural grunts from his throat, Ari’s head tipped back as he gripped onto your thighs harshly. Your pussy was stretched around his thick cock and your tight channel welcomed him in so well.

“More, Ari, please– more,” you cried out as you started to meet his thrusts with your own.

“Yeah, bunny? Want me to fuck you like this?” Ari gritted his teeth as he moved faster into your pussy. You keened a quiet but intense ‘yes’ as your moans became louder again as Ari thrusted harder into you, his own groans were unrestrained as he tried to maintain composure.

With each thrust, Ari became fixated on watching your gripping pussy clench down onto his large cock with a mix of both of your cum dragging down his length and accumulating around the end of his dick. The sight was too overwhelming for Ari as he shut his eyes with furrowed brows in pleasure as he tried to last a little longer.

His attempts weren’t working so he clenched his teeth with a deprived grunt before pulling out of you, only to turn you over onto your stomach with a sharp smack against your ass. You let out a surprised yelp only to moan your pleasure again as Ari thrust back inside of you. Your knees were pressed onto the bed as he contorted your figure so that your face laid flat against the damp sheets, and your ass high up in the air being jostled by his cock.

One hand holding you down at the back of your neck, you felt Ari’s other hand stroke and press up and down your back languidly as his cock thrusted into you deceivingly hard and fast. The feeling of his hands on your damp skin just made you feel even more wrapped up in your pleasure. Your moans became high-pitched whimpers again as you felt Ari adjust his angle, and his next thrust landed right against your g-spot. You gasped as you choked on the whimpers leaving your throat and suddenly you couldn’t make any sounds at all. Your body went noticeably limp as Ari took you like a rag doll. Ari noticed this and how quiet you suddenly got and peered over while thrusting into you roughly.

After a moment of him fucking you furiously, he cooed and laughed, “Bunny, as much as I love hearing those cute sounds leave you, I really love it when you get quiet.” In his last words, he smacked your ass again and gripped your cheek tightly, the flesh caught in his fist turning the skin around it white, while he thrusted harder into your spot as he got you towards the finish line.

Your jaw dropped at the sheer pleasure of his cock ambitiously driving inside of you– combined with the feeling of his tight grip of his large hands on your pliant ass, your body squirted out your cum again but this time on Ari’s unrelenting cock. You tightened up so delightfully on his member, Ari couldn’t help the hissing moan from his mouth when he felt your pussy almost eject him from how tight you were pushing out your cum.

Not resisting, he quickly pulled out to see your squirt fully released. Breathing heavily at the sight, Ari tapped the mushroom head of his dick against your puffy clit eagerly and you let out a guttural moan as you squirt again at the stimulation. Ari could only let out another laughing moan as he did it once more with succeeding results. Little spurts of squirt seeped out of you and Ari tilted his head back, cursing at how sexy you were as he thrust deeply back into you.

Needing to see it one more time, Ari knew exactly what to do as he grunted and grinded against that spot inside of you, quickly rubbing the tip of dick against the spongy flesh and quickly pulled out for more squirt to gush out of you. The feeling of your tight pussy’s lasting grip on his aching cock was what felt so addicting to him as he did it again. You mewled tiredly and Ari could tell that you were at your limit although your back arched into him for more.

“Must feel so good, huh, bunny?” Ari checked in with you once he gained some semblance of control over his cock-driven brain. You assented with a tired ‘mhm’ and moaned softly as Ari entered you slowly so as to not continue overstimulating your thoroughly used cunt.

“Okay, baby, I think it's my turn now to feel good,” Ari says almost darkly. You give no response as you jut your ass out towards his pacing cock more as a sign for him to take you to his pleasure filled desire. But that’s okay, Ari didn’t need to hear you for this part.

Groaning loudly and deeply, he thrusted back into your sopping wet pussy as he finally chased his pleasure. You were quietly letting out your own moans as you gyrated back against him and it didn’t take long for him to get there. Teetering on the edge for some time, it only took one final thrust into you when Ari released a loud, roaring moan that came from deep in his throat as he spurted his hot cum inside your pulsating channel.

Ari shallowly thrusted his cum inside of you while catching his breath. He pulled back with a satisfied grunt to see a mix of your cum together and leaking out of you so prettily.

You were barely there as you moaned your satisfaction at the feeling of Ari using his half-hard cock to thrust your combined spend back inside of you with one last deep thrust. Ari squeezed his eyes shut in pleasure as he plugged your release back in and slowly extricated himself from your used cunt.

Feeling sleepy and floaty, you sinked back down onto your stomach, uncaring of the very wet sheets underneath you. As you floated between sleep and the present, you could feel a wet cloth pet at your opening and you groaned at the cooling feeling of Ari wiping you clean.

Laying down next to you, Ari pulled your sated body into his warm embrace and kissed your sweaty forehead with so much love and care.

As you hum in content, you were about to float away into a deep sleep when you heard Ari whisper one last note of affection, “I’ll never drift away from you again, Bunny. I love you.”

ok thots thoughts? ima just leave this here and ya'll could just tell me what u think 🙂‍↕️🫣

who do we think the guy in the Ferragamos is? we'll see him in part 2, dats fo sho.

Part 2 (coming soon)

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elsa-fogen · 8 months ago

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Fallen angels?

Okay i understand why people may think of Crmila being a fallen angel. But Alastor and Rosie? Especially Alastor. There's absolutely no way that he was an angel LMAO. I also don't belive that Rosie can be a fallen angel. Like, come on, it's just her dress. And for angels, especially exorcists, it's just part of their armor! This is so silly

BUT!!! If Rosie is fallen angel it would add such an interesting dynamic to radiorose relatonships. Like........ How would Alastor even react to this? I'm trying to imgine and... I don''t think it would affect their friendship too much? Alastor isn't Charlie lol. But also he isn't Charlie. And Rosie pretty much THE ONLY person he trusts (as far as we can tell). So... That's really difficult to figure out his reaction. I think maybe he would not know how to react to this either! Like, from one side this doesn't change much. From the other side it's a kind of a huge thing to keep in secret.

HA MAYBE HE KNOWS! Like i'm sure they sometimes bite each other unpromted, it's their love language (pretty much like my mom LOL) (ha- now this is my headcanon for Alastor's mom too AHHAHDHAHSHDSAH) So yeah, he bit her once and saw golden blood and was like wtf, and rosie like, ah yeah i'm a fallen angel, but it's a secret don't tell anyone, and alastor's just ok then

anyone else to the pile of fallen angels?

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drowning-in-paragraphs · 1 month ago

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hii!!

can i request a kinda angsty fix where the reader and jude got into a stupidish fight and jude knows he’s in the wrong and tries to apologize but the reader just wants some fresh air and when she goes out a man is like following her and being creepy and she has to call jude to come get her.

i think it’d be cute to end kinda fluffy with apologies and kisses to make up.

p.s luv your work<3

a/n: thank you so much for your request, I loved writing this. I hope you like it!

MIDNIGHT APOLOGIES

jude bellingham x gf!reader

warnings: none, just that English is not my first language and the lack of originality in the title.

summary: After a petty fight with Jude, you step outside for some fresh air, despite his insistence that you don´t. Alone at night, you feel a stranger following you and you call your boyfriend in fear. When he arrives, your emotions run high, leading to heartfelt apologies and sweet moments together.

It was one of those nights that felt off from the very beginning. Jude had come home late from training, and you were already on edge after a rough day at work. The tension had been simmering for a while, and it didn’t take much for it to boil over. It started with something small—something so ridiculous, neither of you would even remember the cause by the next day. Maybe it was about him leaving his stuff everywhere or you being short with him. Either way, it turned into something bigger than it needed to be.

“Jude, it is not that difficult to pick up your stuff,” you’d said, your voice tight with frustration. “It’s like you’re always leaving it there for me to pick up.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. He was also tired after training and your bad mood didn’t help. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” he muttered. “I’ll get to it later.”

“Yeah, of course,” you snapped, throwing your hands up. “You always say you’ll ‘get to it,’ but you never do, Jude. I feel like I’m doing everything, and you’re just… I don’t know...”

He huffed, clearly frustrated but trying to keep his cool. “I’m tired, you know? Training is intense right now, and I just need some time to relax when I get home. Not your naggings.”

“And what about me? I’m tired too. I’ve had a horrible day, and you are not helping.” You hated how emotional your voice sounded, like you were right on the verge of tears. The last thing you wanted was for this to turn into something serious, but you were exhausted—exhausted of feeling unheard.

He sighed, rubbing his temple. "I know you're upset, but I’m doing my best—”

“No, Jude. You’re not,” you cut him off, the words sharper than you meant. “You’re not even trying.”

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with the unspoken tension between you. Jude’s jaw tightened, and you could tell he was trying to bite back whatever he wanted to say. He knew he was in the wrong—knew he had been neglecting your needs, but his pride wouldn’t let him admit it. At least, not yet.

After a few more moments of the suffocating quiet, you sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "I need some air," you muttered, grabbing your jacket from the chair and heading toward the door.

Jude straightened up from his position alarmed, his eyes following you. "This late? Babe, it's not safe out there right now."

You paused, your hand on the doorknob, turning to look at him. "I just need to cool off for a few minutes, Jude. If I stay here I’ll probably end up saying something I’ll regret."

His concern flickered across his face, but he held his tongue. Normally, he would’ve insisted you stay—that you work it out right then and there. But he knew this situation was his fault and that you would take his advice as a rude order. He didn’t want to escalate the situation any further. So, with a tight nod, he let you go, though the tension in his body was evident.

“Fine,” he muttered quietly, biting his tongue. “Just… be careful, alright?”

You didn’t respond, pushing the door open and stepping into the cool night air. As soon as you were outside, the weight on your chest lightened slightly. The cool breeze was a relief against your heated skin, and you walked with no particular direction in mind, just wanting to clear your head.

But as you wandered further away from your apartment, that feeling of relief slowly ebbed away, replaced by something else—a prickling sensation at the back of your neck. You glanced over your shoulder, your heart speeding up when you noticed a man a few steps behind you. His pace matched yours, and even though he wasn’t doing anything overtly threatening, there was something unsettling about his presence. You quickened your steps, trying to shake him off, but he did the same, closing the distance slightly.

You turned right onto a street, expecting the man to continue straight ahead. However, your heart began to race in your chest when the man not only imitated you, but also quickened his pace.

Your breath hitched, and your hand instinctively moved to your phone in your pocket. You fumbled with it for a second before dialing Jude’s number from memory, your fingers shaking.

He picked up after the first ring, his voice immediately concerned. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Jude," you whispered quietly, your voice trembling. "There's… there's a guy. I think he's following me."

There was a pause on the other end, and you could hear Jude moving, probably grabbing his jacket and keys. "Tell me where are you." His voice was sharp now, all traces of your earlier fight gone. You quickly rattled off the nearest street signs, your heart pounding in your chest as you continued walking rapidly.

"Stay on the phone with me," he said firmly. "I'm coming to get you. Don't look back—just keep walking towards the main road. I'll be there in five minutes."

You did as he said, your feet moving faster as you tried to reach a more populated area, but it was difficult due to these hours. Your heart was racing, but hearing Jude’s voice kept you grounded. You kept walking, glancing around nervously, but soon enough, you spotted him, his face set in a mixture of anger and concern. The man behind you seemed to realize what was happening and quickly disappeared into the shadows, leaving you alone.

Jude reached you in moments, pulling you into his arms without a word. You could feel how tense he was, his hand gently running up and down your back as he held you close and tight.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer now, his lips brushing the top of your head.

You nodded, your face buried in his chest as you answered him. "Yeah… I just got scared."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes scanning your face. "I'm sorry," he murmured, cupping your cheek. "I shouldn’t have let you go out by yourself. I knew it wasn’t safe, but I didn’t want to argue more. That was on me."

You shook your head, feeling a little overwhelmed by everything. "No, no. It’s not your fault. I just needed some space, but I shouldn’t have gone out so late."

His thumb brushed over your cheek, and his eyes softened, guilt etched into every line of his face. "Still, I should’ve been more understanding earlier. I’ve been so caught up in everything, and I haven’t been thinking about how much I’ve been taking your actions for granted. I’m really sorry."

You sighed, the frustration melting away at the sincerity in his voice. "I just… I just want you to be here with me, Jude. I don’t need you to be careful about everything, just… a bit more understanding."

He nodded, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I will. I promise. I’m so sorry, baby."

His kisses came quicker after that, small and tender — one on your nose, another on your cheek, then the corner of your lips. You couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped you, especially when he placed another light peck on your forehead.

"Jude," you muttered, but you were smiling now.

"What?" he grinned, pressing one more kiss to your lips. "I’m making it up to you."

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable as you wrapped your arms around him tighter. "I think you're forgiven," you teased.

His smile widened as he pressed another kiss to your lips, this one deeper, lingering just long enough to make your heart race. “Good,” he whispered. “Because I’m never letting you go out at night alone again. Now I’m your bodyguard.”

Of course, you didn’t protest.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham comfort #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham angst #hey jude #jb5 #jude victor william bellingham #jude victor willliam bellingham #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #judeswifey

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daydreams-after-dark · 4 days ago

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Free Use Jail Cell, Part 6

MDNI // 18+ content

Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader

Premise: you're arrested and held for 24 hours by 8 police officers at the local police station / reader has her fantasy play out.

Word Count: 3.8k approx (part 6)

Chapter Summary: You are at the mercy of Chief Chan and Officer Felix.

A/n: The time has come! Finally the Aussies have their way with y/n. I know so many of you have been hanging out for this chapter, sending messages and comments, and I'm so excited to share it with you. I know it was a long time coming.

Two things I need to mention, though. The first, I forgot Minho was a detective in the last chapter and called him 'officer' (do you think he'd be a dear and punish me for my mistake?), and two, I mentioned his clothes got soaked in the shower, but nothing about him changing into dry clothes. Let’s just pretend he did.

CW below the cut.

CW: where do I start? Frisking innapropriately, vaginal and anal fingering, photographing of injuries, pinching a nipple, spanking with a belt, handcuffs, bloody lip, hole inspection, crude language about how swollen and how much it's going to hurt, spit roasting, oral sex (m rec), cum eating, cream pie, size kink, name calling (cockslut, whore, babygirl, good girl etc, multiple orgasms, brief breeding kink, rough sex, soft dom moments from Chan and Felix, double vaginal penetration, color system (all green for go ahead), aftercare, angst (you'll see why).

>>>>>>>>

The time arrives for you to finally visit the chief and one his officers, Felix.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Minho says as he does up the last button on the oversized shirt he’d helped you into.

You nod. You’re ready, but nervous.

“Now, remember your color system, your safe word. You don’t have to do anything you don—“ he stops abruptly, coughing awkwardly as he realizes he sounds far too concerned than he should.

Flustered, he clenches his hands into fists and steps back from you.

Again, just like earlier, your heart flutters for just a brief moment, and you swallow hard. You can’t understand it. This is definitely not the context to be feeling things.

Detective Minho walks close to your side as you make your way to the Chief’s office, a protective hand on your lower back.

“Just knock and wait for them to answer.” He says stopping at the door. “Make sure you’re a good girl for them, okay?” He leans in to your ear. “I can’t wait to feel you again later.” Your eyes widen and your cunt clenches, but he walks away like he said nothing at all.

Knock knock.

You tap on the door and wait.

You only have to wait a brief moment before the door opens and you see Office Lee. Felix. He gives you a big, beautiful smile and ushers you into the office.

You’re taken by surprise when you’re immediately spun around and your chest is pressed against the wall beside the door.

“Gotta frisk you, love.” Officer Felix says sweetly. His hands are firm and deliberate as he pats over your shoulders and arms, the down the sides of your body.

“You’ll need to step a little wider, please.” He whispers in your ear.

You part your legs and his hand immediately drags up your inner thigh to cup your pussy, sending tingles through your body. You lean your head against the wall and let out a shaky breath.

“Need to do the internal now.” He says low and slips a finger deep into your heat. You squeak at the intrusion, but it turns to a low moan when he slowly drags his finger in and out of you. His fingers are expert, knowing exactly where that sweet spot is inside you. You rock back against his fingers and moan again.

“Hmm,” he says, “looks like you’re hiding a lot of creaminess here.” He reaches around, offering his cream-coated finger to your mouth. You open and let him slip it inside, pressing it against your tongue, and you suck it willingly.

“Now for the other pretty hole.” There’s a strain in his voice as he snakes his other hand underneath your shirt to find your ass. You whimper around the finger in your mouth as he presses his other against your hole.

The ring of muscle offers little resistance, and the tip of his finger pushes past the rim. Your eyes squeeze tight and your hands press into the wall to steady yourself as he begins to press his finger in further. Although your ass has already had plenty of things done to it in the last twenty four hours, the stretch still feels like a sweet mix of pleasure and pain.

With two fingers scissoring your ass, and a few shoved into your mouth, you’re on the brink of coming. You know that somewhere in the room Chief Chan is watching, even though you didn’t get a chance to see where he was.

Your moans are muffled from Felix’s fingers, and your cunt is leaking arousal down your inner thighs. You feel like a mess and they haven’t even started yet.

Your legs tremble as your pussy clenches around nothing, and you come, pathetically, just like that.

Felix removes all his fingers from your ass and your mouth, and wipes them on your shirt. “Good girl. Now we need to take photos. Come.” He grabs your arm and guides you to turn around.

This is the first time you see the room. It really does look like a Police Chief’s office, with a long, low coffee table surrounded by armchair couches.

At the far end of the room is a large timber desk, and sitting on the edge of the desk is the Chief. Chief Chan.

“Y/n.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling, his expression devilish. “Now you’re going to be a good little prisoner for us, yeah?” He stands up only to take a seat in the couch at the head of the coffee table. “Gonna let Officer Lee here take some good photos of your injuries?”

He settles into his chair. “Strip.” He commands.

Your hands tremble as you unbutton your shirt and let it fall to the floor, leaving you bare for them.

“Fuck.” Chan mutters under his breath. “So perfect.” He swallows hard. “Felix, get started.”

Felix pulls a set of handcuffs from his belt and secures them around your wrists in front of you. “I need you on all fours on the coffee table. Ass towards the Chief. He needs to see all of you.”

You climb onto the table, positioning yourself so Chan can see everything. He lets out a low hum, when he sees the red welts on your ass cheeks.

Felix retrieves a camera from a drawer to the side of the room, and begins to photograph and take note of your injuries.

“Those red welts would be from the paddling she received in the interrogation.” Felix says. Click. Click. “And this cut on her neck, was from Jeongin in the shower.” Click. Click. “Note, there’s also some minor marks on her wrists from various restraints.

“What about her nipples?” Chief Chan interrupts.

“Up on your knees, I need to check.” You rise to your knees and Felix reaches out to stroke your nipple, causing you to shudder under his touch.

“They’re a little bruised.” He tweaks the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, then pulls away to take a photograph.

You look down at your nipples to see they are in fact bruised. You hadn’t realized how hard Minho and Seungmin had those clamps attached.

Felix continues to examine your body, photographing any marks or bruises he finds along the way.

“Chief. Would you like to do the honors? Y/n, back on your hands and knees. Its time for your ‘hole inspection’.”

Fuck! The words ‘hole inspection’ hit you straight in the pussy.

“Of course. Pass me your torch. Spread her ass wide for me.” Chan says gruffly, his tone laced with arousal.

You sense Chief Chan moving behind you, and the click of the torch. With a hand on each of your cheeks, Felix spreads you wide so you’re on display. You feel a surge of heat wash over you. You’re excited, aroused, and so fucking nervous. You’re loving being vulnerable like this.

You feel a pad of a thumb on your clit, rubbing harsh circles on it. You lean your head on the table, trying your hardest not to whimper. It’s difficult though. Especially how they’re talking about you like you’re nothing but a fuck toy.

“Fucking hell, Felix. Look at how used her cunt looks.” Felix leans in for a closer look, while Chan jams a finger inside your pussy. “Her lips are swollen. So red. Rubbed raw.” He says incredulously. “Chief? How’s she gonna take both our cocks. She looks too swollen.”

“Don’t worry, Lixie. We’ll make them fit. Every inch of us both.” Chan laughs like a crazed man as he tries to spread your hole wide so can try and see inside. “Look at that! She likes the idea of it being a struggle, she’s dripping wet.”

Chan runs a finger along your wet folds, gathering your creaminess. He’s not wrong. This is one of your fantasies. Taking two huge, throbbing cocks in your tight, abused little cunt.

You bite your bottom lip, willing the intrusive thoughts about how sick you must be away, and instead try to remember Detective Minho’s words. “You’re not a sick freak”.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when a loud harsh slap of a belt lands on your skin, hitting you where you were still tender from the paddling.

The sting is almost unbearable, and you bite down on your lip so hard you taste blood.

Another hit with the belt has you crying out, and the third strike has you sobbing loudly.

The fourth lands on your swollen pussy lips, and your knees buckle, causing you slip and land on your stomach.

Chief Chan doesn’t care, and he keeps landing more hits with the belt on your ass.

Felix gently pushes your hair off the side of you face and leans in, kissing your cheek gently.

“Remember you can use your safe word. What color are we on?” He stokes your back awaiting your answer.

Chan pauses his ministrations.

“G-g-green.” You sob. “P-please….need to c-come.” You begin to bawl your eyes out.

“Shh… it’s okay. We’ll take care of you.” Felix reassures you, continuing to stoke your back, and Chan rubs your cheeks gently, before landing three more strikes to your sore ass.

“Time to make the Chief feel good.” Says Felix. “Then we can make you feel good, yeah”. He helps you up but doesn’t uncuff you.

He turns you to face Chan who has resumed his seat in the armchair. He appears to like what he sees. You with tear streaks all down your face, and a bloody lip that’s beginning to drip down your chin, it seems to have an effect on him.

He exhales sharply, his jaw clenched and fists in tight balls on the chair arms. You know he’s going to absolutely enjoy this.

“Come. Down on your knees for the Chief.”

You kneel between Chan’s widespread legs and look up it him through your eyelashes. He leans down and wipes your lip, smearing blood across your face.

“You seem to enjoy pain.” He says low, cupping your cheek. You stare at him wide eyed, holding your breath. “Which is lucky, cos you should have seen your cunt just now. I promised Officer Felix we’d make it fit, but I’m not so sure you’re gonna be able to take it without it hurting.”

You gulp.

“Now,” His grip on your jaw tightens. “I need you to put this pretty little mouth to good use while Felix tries to pry you open a bit, yeah?”

He leans back in the chair waiting for you to begin.

You can already see he is big just from the bulge in his trousers, and when you release it from its confines you can’t help but gasp at the sight.

Enormous. So many thick, pulsing veins, and it's heavy. So fucking heavy looking.

You hold it tentatively in your still cuffed hands, giving it an experimental pump. He hisses loudly when you lean down and lick the slit of his cock head.

“I think you can do better than that.” He growls and grabs a fist full of hair on the back of your head, pushing you down over his length.

He pushes you too deep and you gag loudly around him. But he simply chuckles at your struggle and holds you there.

Felix positions himself behind you, kneeling and pressing his cock to your entrance. He holds your hips steady with one hand and pushes into you. Chan was right, you are swollen, and it is a big stretch just to accept the tip.

Chan loosens his grip on your hair, giving you the opportunity to show him what a good little girl you can be.

You sink back over his shaft, relaxing your throat to take him just that little bit more. He groans in approval and rests his head back on the couch.

Felix fills you inch by inch. It stings, yet it feels so satisfying to be stretched open. You groan, the vibrations from your mouth making Chan shudder.

Felix slams the last of his length inside you, taking you by surprise and making you choke on Chan’s cock.

He then thrusts slowly, allowing you to concentrate on pleasing Chan, but every drag of his cock inside you is bringing you closer and closer to another orgasm.

“I wish all pussies were this compliant.” Felix laughs. “This one’s opening up perfectly.”

He rolls his hips a few times, grinding against you deliciously, then snaps his hips hard, hitting your cervix brutally. He alternates between these actions, driving you crazy, sending you closer and closer to the edge.

Chan lets you do all the work on his cock, watching you drool all over it sloppily. Sucking, licking, gagging. You take as much as you possibly can into your throat. You use your hands where you can’t reach with your mouth. Every now and then he pushes your head down a little more, testing your limits.

“Fuck! She’s so tight, Chief. You wanna feel her? I’d love to come in her mouth if I’m allowed?” He thrusts into you hard. “I’m so close.”

“Mmm, yes, let me fill her little cunt with my cum, you fill her mouth.” Chan agrees.

You’re abruptly emptied of both penises and directed to straddle Chan on the couch with one foot on either side of him, and your back against his chest. He hooks his arms under your thighs and with Felix guiding Chan’s cock to your entrance, you’re lowered onto his length.

You whimper as your body stretches to accommodate him as he continues to fill you bit by bit.

You’re too full. There’s no way in hell you’re going to fit both of them at once.

Eventually, your ass meets his hips and you’re fully impaled on him.

“Fuck, yes. Such a good, tight, filthy cunt.” Growls Chan and he rolls his hips up against you while pulling you down as hard as he can.

You cry out.

“Shh now. Here.” Felix rubs the tip of his leaking cock against your check. You turn your head and open up to take him. He fucks your mouth a lot rougher than he fucked your cunt, pushing himself deeper and deeper into your throat on every thrust. It only takes a few minutes for him to cum down your throat with a pretty moan, his head thrown back.

It makes you clench hard around Chan. “Babygirl likes a belly full of cum? Good, cos she’s gonna be fed a whole lot when all the officers take her at once.” He says, pounding into you from below.

“Open up, love. Show me your empty mouth. That’s it. Good girl.” Felix is pleased when you stick out your tongue and show him just how hungry you are.

He removes the the remainder of his clothes and starts to fist his cock, working on getting it hard again.

Chan stands up, pushing you off his cock and laying you onto the coffee table unceremoniously. He folds you in half, pushing your legs up and then absolutely rams himself into you over and over.

The cold hard wood underneath you is uncomfortable on your back as you’re being fucked into it.

“You like this? You fucking little whore? Hmm? Love having a fat cock filling you up like this?” He leans down and kisses you. It’s unexpected, but you welcome it. It’s rough and harsh, just like his cock, and the pressure inside you becomes too much.

He pulls away and you look down to see just how thick and long he is, and how much he stretches and fills you. Your engorged, pink lips enveloping him as your cunt sucks him in. You whimper as your body starts to shake, and with a loud cry, you drench his cock, clenching around it, coming hard.

“That’s our girl. Yeah milk me. Milk Channie’s huge cock!” He demands as his eyes scrunch tight and he lets out an animalistic growl as he coats your insides.

He pulls away, panting, sweating, exhausted, and removes his clothes hastily.

Felix is quick to photograph the cum leaking out of you and you hold your legs up to ensure he gets a good view.

“So perfect.” He approves and sets the camera aside. “Y/n. It’s time. Let’s change positions.” He smiles and uncuffs your hands and helping you to your feet.

Chan produces a blanket from a drawer and spreads it out on the coffee table. He lays down on it and instructs you to straddle him.

Holding his cock steady, he pushes inside your still leaking cunt once again. It’s an impossibly tight squeeze, especially after your orgasm, but somehow he manages to fill you to the hilt. You both exhale sharply when he lifts you slightly and pulls you back down again.

“Come here, lean on me.” He invites you to lay against his chest and he wraps his arms around you. “You’re already choking me. I’m not sure I’m going to survive this.” He whispers against your ear.

He fucks you slowly for a few minutes, grinding up into you over and over. Meanwhile, Felix caresses your body, stroking your back, your ass and presses kisses along your back. He spreads your cheeks and curses low at what he sees.

You’re melting under their softer approach, which you know is all part of them relaxing you for what’s about to come.

“That’s it. Good girl.” Cooes Chan.

“Feels s'good.” You mumble.

“Yeah? You ready to take Officer Felix? Think you can do that for us?” He purrs.

You nod against his shoulder. “Wanna be a good girl.” You whimper.

Chan chuckles. “Yeah? I know you’re gonna be. You’re gonna take Felix like a good little cockslut.”

You feel Felix behind you, positioning himself. “Fuck, Chan.” Felix says uncertainly. “She looks so full already.”

“She’s okay, Lix. She’ll take you no matter what. Let’s fuck her brains out. Tear up her pussy.”

You moan and clench around Chan. You’re certain this man could make you come just with his filthy mouth.

You let out a low groan as Felix presses the tip of his cock at your entrance alongside Chan.

“F-fuck!” You cry when his tip pushes past the opening. “S’too much.” You pant.

“Color?” Chan says sternly.

“G-green. J-just slow, please! Slow.”

Chan holds you with one hand around your back, the other gently holding your ass, pulling the cheek aside to help give Felix access. “You guide us, yeah?”

“You ready to try for more?” Felix asks, a kindness in his voice. The man seems so kind, so considerate. You want to have him inside you too.

“Yes…more.” You pant.

Slowly, and under your direction, Felix squeezes in next to Chan. “So tight. Chan, how are you holding up?”

Chan’s voice is shaky when he answers. “M’not gonna last, mate. Pussy’s too good.”

“More…please…make me take it. Wannabe a good girl! Wanna come on two cocks. Just fuck me!” You ramble and nuzzle against Chan.

The stretch is nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Your walls are stretched further than they have ever been, and they’re so deep inside you, owning you, making you theirs.

You begin to drool, as they take turns withdrawing and thrusting in a beautiful rhythm.

The men growl and grunt as they work together, eventually deciding that instead of one thrust in while the other withdraws, they are going to thrust in at the same time.

“Oh god! Fuck!” You wail.

The both laugh at your reaction, pleased with themselves.

“Harder! More!” You demand. You need them to really give it to you like they promised.

“Make it hurt!”

Their reaction tells you it is music to their ears to hear that.

“Ready, Lix? You heard her. Babygirl wants it to hurt.”

You almost regret it straight away. Felix’s fingers dig into your hips hard, and Chan digs his feet into the table for leverage.

Together they don’t hold back, fucking you brutally. You feel like your cunt is about to split into two. It’s stretched to its limits, yet it craves more. Frantically, you seek more friction, more depth and your body automatically pushes back down against them seeking more.

Lewd sounds fill the office. Sweaty skin slapping skin. Moans, whimpers and curses of ‘fuck’. Then there’s the wet sounds of your pussy. It’s all so dirty and filthy.

You feel yourself so close to your another orgasm, and when both men move a finger to your ass, you know you’re a goner.

“Think you can take both our fingers?”

“Ngh…y-yes…give it to me.” You sob.

The moment you feel your rim give way, and their fingers slip inside slightly and pulling in opposite directions, stretching your hole wide, your body shakes uncontrollably, and you come hard with a sound that can only be described something raw, something primal.

“Fuck! You feel that?” Cries Felix, slamming into you as hard as he can.

“Y-yeah! Fuck, she’s gonna suck us dry. So tight…. Fuuuuck!!” He groans as he cums, releasing himself deep in you. “That's it, let us breed you like a bitch in heat. Gonna take Lixie’s cum too? Mmm yeah? Gonna suck the cum out of him with your tight, hungry little cunt?”

“Mmhmm… yess…need his cum too.”

“Wanna be bred, yeah?”

“Y-yes….please. Please. Need it.” You’re dribbling all over Chan’s chest, mumbling in confusion. It all feels so overwhelmingly incredible. So good you’re going to -

“I’m fucking coming again!” You cry, clamping down around the the two men.

“Oh fuck! Gonna give you my cum. Gonna-”

Felix’s hips falter as he cums, filling you so much that it begins to seep out around both cocks.

He slips out of your tired pussy, and you already feel far too empty, and then Chan pulls out too making you sob at the loss.

“You okay?” Felix wraps a blanket around you and Chan produces warm towels to clean you up.

You nod and smile, although you’re also bawling your eyes out from how euphoric the experience felt. “It was so good. Thank you for being so…considerate. You know, letting me set the pace. As you know, that was my first time.”

“Of course.” Chan kneels down in front of you. “We take our roles very seriously. Our client’s needs are our top priority.” He wipes a tear away. “Now. You need to stay here and rest. Felix will bring you food. And if you are still up for it, we will commence the final request of yours as soon as you're good to go."

>>>>

Minho listens from the other side of the door. That’s right, you’re a client. Nothing more.

He sighs.

Then why did he listen to that entire interaction? Why did he feel like he needed to make sure they didn’t take things too far with you? Or that they would honor your safe word?

He knows Chan and Felix wouldn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with, yet he stood there, fists clenched, listening to you whimpering? Waiting for an excuse to barge in there.

Fuck! He cards his fingers through his hair.

Why did he feel jealous when he heard the sounds that your sweet cunt made when they were inside you? Why did he want to burst in there and rip them from your body and sink himself inside you?

Why the fuck does he care so much?

He settles his mouth into a thin line. He know why, and it's absolutely not ideal. Not to mention it's against the rules of the job.

He sighs again and forces himself to walk away. He needs to figure out a way that he's going to handle watching you get gang banged, and quick.

>>>>

a/n: Oopies, someone is struggling with some feelings it seems. How did you enjoy this chapter? I really wanted to make it a longish one and really give the the Aussie their moment. Please, if you enjoyed, consider a reblog or leave a comment. I love hearing your thoughts on this series.

>>>>

@jeonginsleftcheek @meilix @itgirlalisaa @linocz @boi-bi-ahaha @frozenpeasworld @grandma143 @milkypinkmimi @bangchansbbgirl @leefelixsslut @privhace @justforreaders @galaxycatdrawz @melochacco @jiwoos-babygirl @lunearta @kavifornia @chuuyaobsessed @iadorethemskz @hyun-hwanj @courtnort455 @brimarie0512 @dwaekkicidal @kibs-and-bits @txa-r @minh0scat @the-sweet-rose @chrizzztopherbang @velvetmoonlght @youcanstayyeah @skzswife @stephanieeeyang @withnia @kibs-and-bits @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @ihrtlino

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin@weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @jiminssluttyminx @dool-set-net @redstayrosie @mintymintmint251 @katsukis1wife @delulustardust @eastjonowhere

#chan smut #felix smut #ot8 x reader #ot8 skz smut

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honey-flustered · 8 months ago

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Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)

MDNI +18 Only!!

Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader

Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)

A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.

Older!Eddie photo edit by: @/eddiemunsons-missingnipple

CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants

You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.

“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.

“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”

You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.

“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.

“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”

“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”

“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.

“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”

“I’m in!” Essie beams.

“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.

“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”

“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”

You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”

——————

The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.

With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”

“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”

“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.

“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”

Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”

Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”

“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”

“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.

“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.

“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.

“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.

“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.

You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.

Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.

A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.

“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”

You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.

“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”

“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.

You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.

Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.

“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”

He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”

“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.

“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”

“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.

————-

“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”

You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.

“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.

“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”

“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”

“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to

Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.

“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.

“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”

“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.

“Exactly.” Your father confirms.

You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”

You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”

You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.

————

Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.

Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.

“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”

“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”

“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.

“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”

“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”

“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.

“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”

—————

Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.

“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”

Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!

“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”

He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”

You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.

He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.

“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”

“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.

“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.

“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”

You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.

“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.

——————

You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.

“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”

“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”

“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.

“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.

“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”

“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.

“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”

“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.

He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.

But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.

————

The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.

Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.

“Wilbur. His name’s—”

“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”

The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.

It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.

Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.

You raise the paper to your eyes and read:

If I Were A Hobbit

If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free

I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees

With furry feet and a merry heart

From adventure’s call, I’d never depart

With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.

In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme

I’d wander the fields beneath the sun

I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun

If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid

But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid

You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.

“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”

You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”

“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”

“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”

He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”

“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.

“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.

“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.

You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.

“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”

“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”

He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.

It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.

“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.

“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”

Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.

His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.

You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.

He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.

Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.

————————-

Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.

You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”

“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”

“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”

“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.

“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”

“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”

“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.

You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”

“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”

“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.

Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.

You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.

He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.

“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.

Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?

You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.

“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”

You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.

“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.

“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”

“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”

He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”

—————

You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.

“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.

“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”

“You know D’N’D?”

“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.

“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.

“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”

“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”

“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”

“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.

“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”

“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”

“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”

“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”

He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.

“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”

“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.

“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.

“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”

Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.

“What do you want?”

You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“

“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.

“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.

“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”

“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.

“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.

“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”

“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”

“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”

“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”

“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”

“I could. Considering I am one.”

“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”

“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.

“We’re friends?”

“Us, geeks, stick together?”

“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”

He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.

“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”

“And what about my car?”

“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.

If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.

————

Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.

“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.

Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.

You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”

“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”

“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”

“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”

“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.

“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”

“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”

“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.

Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.

Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.

“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.

“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”

“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”

“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.

“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.

“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.

“Payback’s a bitch, love.”

—————

“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.

“Tana!”

“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.

“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”

“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”

“I’m not!” You insist.

“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”

“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.

“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”

“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”

“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.

An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.

You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.

“What the hell is this?” You sneer.

“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.

“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.

“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.

“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.

“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.

Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”

With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.

“If I could just explain...” You begin.

“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”

You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.

“I was just having fun.”

“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”

“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.

Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”

You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”

Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.

“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”

Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.

————-

You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.

A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.

“What do you want, twerp?” You say.

“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.

“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”

“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”

“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.

“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.

————

The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.

The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.

However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.

His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”

He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”

“Understand?” You ask.

“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”

“Accept?”

“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.

“You don’t hate me?”

“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.

“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”

“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”

“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.

“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.

For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.

“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”

You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”

“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.

You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”

Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”

“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”

“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.

“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”

“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”

“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”

“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.

He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”

“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”

“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”

“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”

“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”

“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”

“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.

“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”

He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.

“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”

“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.

He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.

Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fully by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.

The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.

“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.

“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.

“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.

And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.

He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”

“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.

Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”

And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.

865 notes · View notes

v6quewrlds · 18 days ago

Text

❝ all that matters, j. burrow. ❞ ‎ ‎ ┉

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: joe burrow will always be a stubborn, ohio boy. even when his wife's brother is a 4-time nba champion for the cav's rival team.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: this was a cute request sent in by an anon. i had so much fun writing this one. might turn this into a cute little mini-series that i revisit every now and then, we'll see though.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: fluff, some language, joe wears cavs colors to a warriors home game.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x curry!reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 3k.

You leaned into the bathroom mirror, your hazel eyes scrutinizing the smudge of mascara you had just applied. It was a rare evening when you had the luxury to play around with your makeup products; the rigors of your soccer schedule usually had you rushing from the pitch to your London flat and back without much time to breathe. But tonight, you had promised Joe something special: a date night.

The youngest of the Curry siblings, you had grown up in the shadow of your older brother's fame, but now you were a star in your own right, a forward for Chelsea FC, making waves across the pond.

Your honey-blonde hair, the result of your most recent self-care Thursday, was pulled into a sleek ponytail, and you adjusted your custom Warriors letterman jacket with a smile. It was a nod to your brother and the Curry family's accomplishments, but more importantly, it was a declaration of where your allegiance lay tonight.

Joe emerged from the walk-in closet, grinning wide as his blue eyes crinkled, wearing a wine and gold vintage Cavs shirt underneath a black jacket. "Ready to rep the O-H-I-O?" he teased with a flex of his muscular arms.

You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at him with a laugh. "You're insane for wearing that in the Chase Center, Joe. The Warriors' fans are going to eat you alive."

Joe shrugged, unbothered. "I'm not worried. Besides, it's just a game, right?" He winked, the singular dimple in his cheek deepening, and you couldn't help but smile back. Your fun rivalry was all part of your dynamic, a playful tug-of-war that had begun when you first started dating and had only intensified as your respective athletic careers had taken off.

"Steph's gonna kill you, babe." You laughed as Joe spun around, striking a pose in the middle of your luxurious hotel room.

Joe chuckled, pulling you closer. "Nah, he'll love it. Besides, I'm not scared of a little trash talk. I've faced down 300-pound linebackers, I can handle some rowdy Warriors fans." He kissed your forehead lightly, and you felt a flutter in your stomach. You had been married for a year now, but with the distance and your hectic schedules, moments like these felt like a first date all over again.

You stepped out of the hotel and into the brisk San Francisco night, the air buzzing with the electricity of game day. The lights of the Oracle arena shone like a beacon, a stark contrast to the darkness beyond. Fans were already streaming in, slightly tipsy, jerseys donned, and voices raised in chants. The air was thick with the smell of popcorn and pretzels, the sweet scent of victory and hope.

Your Uber pulled up, and Joe held the door open for you, flashing a grin. "Ladies first," he said with a dramatic bow, which earned him a coy eye roll in return. You climbed in, the leather seats cool against your skin, and headed towards the stadium.

"You know, if you keep that up, people might think you have a crush on me," you quipped, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you stuffed into the backseat of the sedan.

Joe leaned in, whispering, "But what if I do?" His breath tickled your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. You giggled, swatting him away, the warmth of his touch lingering.

As you approached the arena, the crowd grew denser, a sea of blue and yellow interspersed with a few brave souls in wine and gold. Joe pointed each group of Cavs fans out to you who simply rolled your eyes in return. You made your way to your courtside seats, the anticipation of the game mingling with the excitement of your date night. Ayesha and the kids sat upstairs in their family suite, recognizing that the excitement of the floor would be too much for little Caius. The arena was a cauldron of noise, fans stomping their feet, the echoes of their chants reverberating through the rafters.

Your heart swelled with pride as you caught sight of your brother, Steph, warming up on the court. His movements were fluid, a silent symphony of skill and athleticism. You knew Joe was watching him with a mix of admiration and competitive spirit. Despite being from different sports, they shared a deep respect for one another's talent.

As you settled into your seats, the Jumbotron blazed to life, displaying a montage of the players' faces. When Joe's filled the screen, the crowd booed playfully at the sight of his Cavaliers jersey, and Joe laughed amusedly, soaking in the attention. You elbowed him gently, whispering, "You're asking for it." He just grinned wider, his amusement more pronounced than ever.

Your face was displayed after his, and the stadium erupted in cheers, a wave of love that washed over you, making you feel both awe-struck and invincible. You smiled in acknowledgment, flashing a shy grin that could only be described as uniquely 'Curry'. The contrast between Joe's jeers and your cheers made you both laugh.

The game tipped off, and the atmosphere was electric. You were in your element, both of you were used to the roar of the crowd and the thrill of competition. The Warriors played with a finesse that was a testament to their unrivaled teamwork. Meanwhile, Joe remained unfazed by the glares of the die-hard fans around you, occasionally throwing a peace sign or a thumbs up, his charm doing wonders to lighten the tension.

You watched your brother closely, your heart racing every time he had the ball. Each shot he took was a masterclass in precision, and each pass was silent communication with his teammates that seemed almost telepathic. Despite the noise of the arena, you could hear the sweet symphony of sneakers squeaking against the gleaming hardwood, the swish of the net, and the thump of bodies colliding. It brought you back to your childhood, watching your father play in arenas just like this one, and then your brothers in their AAU leagues.

Joe's hand found yours, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your palm, grounding you in the present. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, "I know you're enjoying this, but don't forget we're still on a date."

You turned to look at him, your smile brightening slightly. "You're right," you conceded, tearing your eyes away from the mesmerizing dance of athletes on the court. You shared a kiss, quick and sweet, that seemed to echo in contrast to the pulse of the game around them.

The second half began, and the Warriors picked up the pace. Each basket scored brought the stadium to its feet, and the air was charged with excitement. The tension grew as the clock ticked down, the score neck and neck. Joe, despite his jovial exterior, couldn't hide the tension in his grip on your hand.

Your eyes remained glued to the game, your heart racing with every play. You felt a strange kinship with the players on the court, a shared understanding of the blood, sweat, and tears that went into every win and loss. Your mind drifted to your own training sessions, the countless hours spent perfecting your craft, and you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for your brother's success.

The third quarter ended with a dramatic buzzer-beater, and the stadium went wild. The energy was intoxicating, a heady mix of adrenaline and anticipation. As the players took their seats, the kiss cam made its reappearance. Though the two of you had been lucky enough to evade the cameraman the first round, this time, it found you this time around. The crowd's cheers were mixed with good-natured jeers at Joe's persistent loyalty to his Ohio roots when he appeared on the Jumbotron again.

Joe leaned over, whispering, "I dare you," his eyes alight with challenge. Without missing a beat, you turned to him, your own eyes twinkling. The cameraman hovered above you, waiting. And just as the spotlight hit your faces, you leaned in for a kiss that was more passionate than any you had shared in public before. The crowd erupted into applause, and even the die-hard Warriors fans couldn't help but cheer for the star-studded couple.

Your kiss played out on the giant screen, and even Steph couldn't resist looking over from the bench, shaking his head in feigned disapproval. The sight of your brother's amusement only made your heart swell more. You were a family of champions, bound by love, competition, and a shared love for the sports that had defined your lives.

The final quarter was a battle royale, with each team fighting tooth and nail for every point. The tension in the arena was palpable, a living, breathing entity that seemed to pulse with every heartbeat. Joe was on the edge of his seat, his eyes never leaving the court, even as he held onto your hand tightly. You, too, were absorbed in the game, your nails biting into your palm as you willed the Warriors to victory.

As the last minutes ticked away, the score remained tight. The crowd was a blur of color and noise, a symphony of hope and nerves. Then, in a moment of pure magic, Steph took the ball, dribbled around two defenders, and launched a fadeaway three-pointer that swished through the net, giving the Warriors a lead that would ultimately seal the deal. The stadium exploded in a cacophony of cheers and high-fives, and you jumped to your feet, screaming with pure elation.

Joe leaned back, a look of mock defeat on his face. "Well, I guess the Currys wins again." He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, his smile unwavering.

You couldn't help but laugh, pushing your husband's shoulder playfully. "You say that like it's a surprise," you teased, nudging him with your shoulder. "You married into a family that doesn't like losing. Get used to it."

The final buzzer rang out, echoing through the arena, and the Warriors emerged victorious. The sea of fans around you surged to their feet, a wave of euphoria crashing over them. The Jumbotron played highlights from the game, and Joe couldn't resist pointing out every time the camera caught him looking less than thrilled. "Look at this face," he said with a chuckle, "It's like I'm at a funeral."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't wipe the smug smile from your face. "You're just salty," you said, leaning into his side. "It's okay, you have to lose sometimes. It builds character."

Joe squeezed your hand, his competitive spirit not quite letting him admit defeat. "Yeah, yeah," he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "I'll just have to beat you at something later to make up for it."

The stadium lights dimmed, and the players made their way to the locker rooms. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and victory, the cheers slowly morphing into a low murmur as fans made their way out. The arena staff began to clean up, and the reality of the night's end set in.

You and Joe waited patiently for the crowd to thin out before being escorted down the tunnel alongside a few other Warriors' family members. As you approached the waiting area, you spotted your sister-in-law Ayesha settling baby Caius in her arms. Your nieces Rylie and Ryan were engaged in a hand game with your nephew Canon, mysteriously all fully awake in anticipation of seeing their father and auntie.

"Is that the Currys?" You called out, your voice a mix of excitement and fatigue. You haven't had much time to spend with the kids since your move to London so any chance to see them was a blessing. Ayesha's face lit up as she saw the two of you approaching.

"Hey, Joe," she said with a knowing smile, eyeing his outfit. "You're a brave man."

Joe grinned back, his confidence unshaken as he leaned over to embrace her warmly. "I'm an Ohio boy, Ayesha. I wear my colors proudly."

You stepped forward, kissing Ayesha's cheek then Caius'. "How did the little ones survive the game?"

"They're all about the snacks, not the score," Ayesha said, her own eyes sparkling with mirth. She handed Caius to his aunt, and the baby's tiny hands reached for your letterman jacket. The sight of your brother's name and number on the back of his onesie made you chuckle.

"He looks just like Steph, square head and everything," you said, bouncing the baby in your arms. Caius gurgled happily, oblivious to the sports allegiances swirling around him. The three other children's laughter filled the otherwise empty tunnel, a reminder of the joy that these games brought to your lives, beyond the wins and losses.

"What's going on, champ?" Joe offered a fist bump to Canon as he knelt down to the kids' level, Rylie and Ryan flanking his sides with hugs of their own. Canon's eyes widened with excitement as he attempted to recount every thrilling play of the game in dramatic fashion, his enthusiasm bubbling over like a pot of boiling water.

You couldn't help but feel a tug at your heartstrings. Despite the chaos of your lives, these moments with your family grounded you. You looked over at your brother, who was signing autographs and taking selfies with fans. His eyes met yours, and you knew he felt the love too.

"You guys have fun?" Stephen asked, making his way over to the group of you with a bounce in his step. His oldest three children took off in his direction, their laughter bouncing off the walls of the tunnel like the echoes of the game.

"Always fun to watch you kick butt," Joe said, giving him a hug that was half squeeze, half pat on the back.

Steph grinned, his teeth gleaming against his tanned skin. "Thanks, man. Always a pleasure to send your sorry-ass fan club home where they belong." He clapped Joe on the back, the teasing glint in his eye never fading.

You hugged your brother tightly, feeling the warmth of his post-shower skin against your cheek. "Great game, Wardell," you murmured into his ear, the sound of his government name falling off your lips drawing a scowl from the basketball player.

"Don't start with that," he spoke back, his voice a mix of affection and annoyance. He took another moment to greet his wife and infant son before turning his attention back to Joe. "No seriously, how you gonna wear that in my house?" He nodded towards Joe's shirt, feigning disgust.

Joe just laughed, shaking his head. "I gotta represent, even if it's in enemy territory."

Steph rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his amusement. "As long as you keep that one in line," he nodded towards you who simply kissed your teeth, "I'll forgive you."

"I'll do my best," Joe replied, looping an arm around your waist. "She's quite the handful most days. But luckily for her, she's got good taste in quarterbacks," he added, planting a kiss on your cheek.

The adults shared a laugh, your bonds unbreakable despite your playful arguing. The night was still young, and the promise of more teasing and laughter lay ahead. The tension of the game had been a welcome distraction from your daily routines, but now, as you stepped into the cool San Francisco Bay breeze, the reality of your careers crashed back in.

You knew your time was limited; tomorrow, you'd be back in the grind, preparing for your upcoming training camp with the US Women's National Team. But for now, you cherished every second with Joe and your family, the joy of the victory still buzzing in your veins.

As you made your way out of the arena, the cool night air greeting you like a refreshing splash of water, you whispered into Joe's ear, "Thank you for flying out with me. It means a lot."

Joe looked down at you, his blue eyes warm with affection. "Anything for my favorite girl."

"You got more than one girl, Burrow?" You teased with a squint of your eyes, a smirk playing on your lips.

"Just you and the football, baby." He whispered back. You strolled down the crowded streets, the distant echo of the game still reverberating in your ears, mixing with the chatter of the fans leaving the arena.

"Unless you have something you wanna tell me?" He continued with his low whisper, his thumb brushing across your stomach as he held your waist delicately. The conspiratorial tone hinted at his most persistent wish in the last few months, one that had become a running joke between the two of you.

You playfully elbowed him. "Don't start with me, Joe. You haven't upgraded yourself to baby daddy yet." But the smile on your face gave away your secret longing. The thought of a baby had been a topic of gentle teasing and hopeful glances for a while now. It was a future you both craved, but one that had to wait until your schedules allowed.

You continued to walk in comfortable silence, the cacophony of the city blending into the background. The night was alive with the glow of streetlights reflecting off the pavement, the distant honks of cars, and the occasional cheer from a passing fan. As you approached your Uber, Joe paused, looking around at the bustling streets of San Francisco.

"You know, I could get used to this," he mused, his eyes taking in the scenery. "Maybe we should get a place out here."

You looked up at him, your smile growing. "You'd leave the Bengals for me?"

"Woah, I didn't say all that," Joe chuckled, shaking his head. "But maybe a second home wouldn't be the worst idea." His eyes searched yours, hopeful and playful all at once.

You felt the weight of his words, the hint of a future where your paths didn't have to be so separate. "We'll see," you said, your voice softer than you intended. The thought of having Joe all to yourself away from the bustle of his Cincinnati fame was tempting, but you knew your careers weren't going anywhere, not soon enough for the two of you to seriously consider a second home anyway.

You slid into the Uber, the cool leather a stark contrast to the warmth of Joe's hand in yours. You leaned your head against his shoulder, watching the city lights blur by, feeling the gentle rhythm of his breath against your hair.

#&. cassie writes.#joe burrow #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x oc #joe burrow x ofc #black!fem!reader #black!oc #black!reader #cincinnati bengals #x black fem reader #x black reader #bengals #joe burrow bengals

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nicxl333 · 1 year ago

Note

hello

Could you write about bllk boy accidentally hurting their s/o badly.

It's okay if you're too busy. No pressure

BABY YOU SOLD ME A DREAM

characters: isagi yoichi, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, barou shouei, itoshi rin

content: major angst, reader is female coded (wears a dress, heels and makeup), mentions of smut in barou’s part but nothing actually happens (lol), vulgar language

☆彡 ISAGI YOICHI

“you think you know better than me? do me a favour and go find someone else who has the time to put up with your bullshit. ‘cause it won’t be me.”

you lay in your cold, desolate bed for the umpteenth time this week alone, which, considering it was only wednesday showed just how often isagi trained past late hours. as much as you understood his passion to climb to the top, it was simply neglect at this point. to you and to himself. you woke up, he was gone. you went to sleep, he wasn’t beside you.

of course, things were never like this in the beginning. he used to be around, take you out, nurture you and show you devoted love for you each and every time.

until he wasn’t.

once his team reached the quarterfinals of the champions league a while back, he changed. 2 hour training sessions in the evening turned into 4, and the time he spent with you halved as a result. it made you feel lonely and simply put, abandoned.

your texts querying his location and when he was coming home lay unanswered and unopened, probably within the confinement of his phone which lay in his bag during training. so you went to bed alone like you always did, missing what your relationship used to be.

as you stared at the pristine, bare white ceiling you heard a key in the lock of the front door. a few moments passed and the door pushed open, pads of feet resounding in the apartment.

you decided to go meet him in the living room, wanting to know if he’s at least okay.

as you entered the room, you were met with his figure, donned in black sweatpants paired with a black compression shirt. his normal post-training gear. the same gear that never failed to make you melt each and every time. he glanced at you in your nightwear and weary expression, due to him returning back so late.

“hey ‘ichi, how was training?”

“alright.”

you immediately frowned. outside the pitch he was never so curt and void of language. especially with you.

you ventured closer towards him, trying to debunk his guarded persona.

“are you sure? did anything happen to you?” you stepped closer still, till you were right in front of him, immediately noticing his dark circles, even in the dim lighting of the living room from the hallway light. you attempted to give him a hug, shrinking back in disappointment once he shrugged you off.

“i said it was alright. i’m fine, just go back to bed, i��ll join in a bit.”

bullshit. you knew full and well he would just retire to the sofa, watching playbacks of his games to further evaluate his performance. even when he wasn’t working physically he would somehow manage to work himself further mentally.

“yoichi. what’s wrong baby?”

“y/n, i won’t repeat myself again. go to bed.”

you stood there in disbelief. as far as you were concerned, you hadn’t done anything wrong, so it’s quite unbelievable that he would take whatever happened today out on you.

“isagi,” you made sure to use his last name to make aware you weren’t fucking around. “come correct with me please. i haven’t done anything to you and i’m concerned for your well-being. you’ve been going to sleep late, training until ungodly hours. this isn’t good for you and i’m now on the receiving end of your misery, god knows why.”

the tone in the room shifted, isagi, now displaying a scowl across his features at your rebuttal. yes, he was well aware he was maltreating himself, but to have you acknowledge his moment of weakness gave him an displeasing itch of anger that no one could scratch, not even you.

before he could think, the next words that flew out of his mouth changed the status of your relationship, whether he meant to or not.

“you think you know better than me? do me a favour and go find someone else who has the time to put up with your bullshit. ‘cause it won’t be me.”

you instantaneously drew back, his words punching you in the gut and twisting your insides. your heart leapt and fell, never expecting those words, out of isagi’s mouth of all people.

it was deathly silent for a moment, both parties having a staring match. you fought back tears, trying so damn hard to not allow him to see how his words affected you. alas, your emotions got the best of you.

you lightly sniffled, before balling your hands into fists. “you know what yoichi? fuck you, i’m done.”

you turned on your heel and made a beeline towards your shared bedroom, grabbing your biggest duffel and shoving clothes into them, not minding what it was that you picked up. only once isagi was the only individual in the living room did he snap out of his state, realising the weight of his words. he listened to the loud shuffling, registering that he may have just fucked his relationship over for good.

he swiftly followed you, watching you in a frenzy, having just changed into an outfit suitable enough for outside. it was then that he grasped you were serious, and slipped into full panic mode.

“y/n! y/n please baby, i didn’t mean any of that! don’t leave me.” he reached for your arm, falling apart, the same way you did moments before, when you pulled away from his touch. you knew if you succumbed to his pleas you might— might just stay. but you couldn’t. his words resonated within you and made you accept that fact that you needed space at the most, before your relationship delved into something irreparable.

you stood, duffel bag slung on your shoulder, tears running down each cheek, until they conjoined at your chin.

“isagi, i can’t. not right now. not when emotions are running this high. i need space. we should probably talk when we’re both calmed down. i’ll be at meguru’s house so you don’t need to worry about where i am.”

he respected your wishes, he had no choice. if he wanted this relationship to survive he had to.

so he let you go.

☆彡 MIKAGE REO

“you’re very much subpar, do you think i need to keep you around? my name alone will help find me someone better than you.”

one thing about mikage reo that really ticked you off was his obsession over his best friend, nagi. simply put,

he was always there.

when you were chilling together, when you went out, even after date nights he would come to your shared condo, playing video games with your boyfriend until who knows what time in the morning. it always felt like you had to share and fight for reo’s attention, which was pretty much a losing battle considering reo gave nagi as much of his attention to nagi as he did.

you did your best to not voice your concerns to him, withholding your true feelings, that you did. but sometimes there’s just moments where you can’t help but snap.

and that moment came at your first year anniversary dinner with reo. hell, you should’ve called it your first year anniversary dinner with yourself, considering the fucker didn’t even show up.

you had dolled yourself up so nicely, a sexy silk black dress (purchased with your own money, you didn’t like to depend on reo too much) with matching heels. your makeup was done flawlessly and not a hair out of place.

you sat at an expensive table at an expensive restaurant, sipping over-expensive wine while you waited for him to show up. you hadn’t seen him since this morning, due to him training all day today, but you had planned this dinner with him together a month ago, reservations and all, with reminders here and there about the upcoming date.

you had waited for about an hour, taking into consideration that there could be traffic, although you hadn’t experienced any on the way here, thus giving him the benefit of the doubt.

however, when no signs showed of him arriving you turned to a waiter and excused yourself, paying the bill and walking out to collect your car from the valet.

once it was brought to you and you were seated, ready to drive off, the first thing you did was call reo via the bluetooth feature, beyond pissed off.

after a few rings he picked up, the sounds of video game gunfire audible in the background.

“y/n? what’s up? where are you?”

you scoffed incredulously, ignoring the city lights whizzing past you as you drove on the highway.

“what’s up? where am i? reo, do you know what day it is today?”

“no, why?”

you gripped the leather of your steering wheel, your frustration hitting a boiling point. “you cannot be serious. does our one year anniversary ring any bells, huh? the fact that i’ve reminded you, time and time again? you stood me up reo! what could you have possibly been doing that was more important than remembering a big milestone in our relationship?!”

he didn’t even have to answer for you, because the answer came in the form of a “reo, why did you stop? our team just lost.”

nagi seishiro.

if you weren’t angry before, you were absolutely livid now.

“reo, so you mean to tell me that spending time with your friend was more important than remembering your one year anniversary with your girlfriend? do i mean nothing to you?”

“y/n it’s not that deep, we can just reschedule for tomorrow or something.” you could hear his exasperation through the phone. the audacity of him, considering he was completely at fault here.

“not that deep? not that deep?! you let me sit there for over an hour in an upscale restaurant by myself and didn’t even think to worry about where i was! why is it not getting through to you that you missed our anniversary to play games? you see nagi everyday, whether it’s at training or at home. you mean to tell me that you couldn’t bear to not see him for one singular day out of the week?”

there were probably a ton of possibilities and explanations for why he said what he said next, but if you had to choose, it would probably be the fact that nagi could most likely hear the argument over the phone, which lead reo to attempt to regain control over the situation, by any means possible, to not appear weak.

“you’re very much subpar, do you think i need to keep you around? my name alone will help find me someone better than you.”

oh. you see how it is.

his words stunned you into silence, knocking the wind out of you. the only sounds that could be heard was the continuous tapping from reo’s controller and the low hum of your engine as you drove.

“look y/n i’m busy now, so we can talk later when you’re ho-”

you didn’t wanna hear what else he had to say, hanging up the call via the steering wheel and letting out a deep breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

without fail you indicated to turn off the highway, making your way to the nearest hotel. nevermind the fact that you didn’t have any clothes, you simply couldn’t handle seeing reo after the way he just wounded you.

once at the hotel and settled in your room you lay swaddled in the crisp white blankets. without any external eyes being able to see your state you let all walls crumble, tears cascading down in waves as you let all the previous bottled emotions fly free.

unbeknownst to you, your phone lay on the side table, softly vibrating whilst the screen lit up to show a picture of you and reo at a theme park, a call coming though from him.

it lay unanswered.

☆彡 NAGI SEISHIRO

“being in a relationship is a hassle already, i shouldn’t have to deal with you bitching and whining on top of that.”

you awoke to the sounds of rapid gunfire emanating from the living room, sighing to yourself. once again, nagi was devoting himself to a night of endless gaming.

it was a never-ending cycle. when he wasn't gaming, he was training and vice versa. as much as you loved and embraced the fact that nagi was lazy, he could at least make some effort to give you attention every once in a while.

rubbing the sleep away from your eyes you trudged your way through the apartment wearily, before being met with his figure, hunched on the sofa, eyes glued to the screen in front of him.

"sei, when are you coming to bed? i miss you."

"in a bit y/n."

"sei baby you said that last night, and i came back to you passed out on the sofa. the bluelight isn't good for you, especially so late."

he barely was around as it is, but when he was, he either slept, or was parked on the sofa.

it made you feel unappreciated, and majorly unloved. he never made the effort to take you out, tell you that you ever looked pretty or even acknowledge you anymore. to you at this point he was practically a roommate with a shoddy title that really shouldn't apply to the both of you.

"y/n, just leave me alone for now. i'm too tired to get into it with you."

"so you're too tired to argue with me being concerned for your wellbeing, but not too tired to invest your time into games, which ultimately drains your thought processes more? really sei?"

he was still focusing on the tv instead of your words, which ticked you off. so, determined to get his full attention, for once, you walked towards the tv and stood directly in front of it, blocking his vision, arms crossed and frowning.

"what the hell y/n? you made me lose."

"seishiro, can you stop being an ass for just a second and focus on me and what i have to say?”

faced with no way out, he had to oblige, placing the controller down with a heavy sigh, letting you know he was agitated. you couldn’t give a flying fuck though. you’d had enough of being neglected by nagi, and weren’t going to let him off this time.

“you don’t spend time with me anymore. you never take me out, we don’t ever talk to each other anymore. is it so bad for me to want to spend time with my boyfriend? is a game really more important than me? or is being with me detrimental to you in some way?”

he rolled his eyes, sinking back into the soft material of the sofa, irises piercing into yours. you shrunk back at his change in demeanour.

“being in a relationship is a hassle already, i shouldn’t have to deal with you bitching and whining on top of that.”

huh?

“nagi, where is this coming from? what do you mean being in a relationship is a hassl- i’m a hassle?”

he shrugged while rising to his feet, placing a hand behind his head and massaging his neck.

“i said what i said didn’t i? look, i’m going to bed, happy now? i don’t wanna argue with you, you’re too loud when you’re angry.”

you stood in shock, registering his words fully before swallowing and deeply inhaling.

“forget it nagi, i’m leaving. lose my number.”

“leaving to go where?” he watched as you briskly walked to the bedroom, following you in as you changed, grabbing your phone and keys.

“that’s none of your concern anymore. i’m breaking up with you.”

he said nothing as you walked to the front door, leaving with a final slam.

he should’ve stopped you, he really should’ve, for he would come to realise soon enough that allowing you to go,

would be one of the worst decisions he ever made.

☆彡 BAROU SHOUEI

“oi, i didn’t get into a relationship with you just so you can make my life harder. fix up or leave.”

when you asked barou out, you knew damn well what you were signing up for. considering he was so headstrong, particularly when it came to football, there would be moments where he might be nonchalant or absent.

what you didn’t anticipate, would be just how bad he would get.

once his mind was focused on football, specifically climbing his way to the top, there were no distractions, especially from his girlfriend, who at times he deemed his biggest distraction.

you did try to help and aid him every way you could, cooking him meals to eat after late night practices, tending to his injuries he may obtain after over-intensive sessions, cleaning up the apartment flawlessly so he wouldn’t be tempted to do it himself. all you really wanted in return was love.

surely that wasn’t too much to ask for, right?

wrong.

even after 7 months of dating, public outings with attempts to hold his hand resulted in subtle swatting away, instead opting to walk side by side. laying in bed together? don’t expect any cuddles from him. quite laughable actually that you’d ever think he’d be willing to do that. don’t think movie nights will be any different either. you’d better be keeping your hands to yourself.

fucking was a rarity, only really when he was very much pent up with frustration from football, libido overflowing from lack of release. and even then, while you were able to cum, that’s pretty much all there was to it. no making love or anything like that. he wouldn’t display his emotions to you enough in the first place for that to ever happen.

when you asked barou out, you knew damn well what you were signing up for. but you didn’t know it would be this hard. you figured he would loosen up eventually, getting used to at least some form of affection towards you. a little peck on the lips, or a hug from behind every once in a while would be nice.

one day, you simply grew tired. you were sitting on the dining table with him, having just finished dinner. barou stood up, ready to leave the table to shower.

“shouei.”

he stopped in his tracks, pivoting on one heel to turn and face you. his face remained blank, save for his usual signature eyebrow, arched in waiting.

“hm?”

“i-” you suddenly grew self conscious, afraid to voice your concerns to him. if you wanted things to change however, this conversation had to happen sooner rather than later.

“can we do more stuff together?”

his face now contorted into utter confusion, genuinely puzzled by what you were trying to say.

“what do you mean? i do enough with you do i not?”

“no, not that that sho’, i mean more couples stuff. like…couldn’t you just be more affectionate? i just— i don’t know how you feel about me at certain points, you don’t tell me anything as it is.”

he looked at you, playing with your hands, trying to look anywhere but him, clearly uncomfortable about this conversation.

“cmon y/n, you know how it goes already, i’m not into shit like that. i may like you and all, but all that lovey-dovey stuff? that ain’t me. never has and never will be. surely you should understand how i feel about you? the fact that i’ve kept you around this long should say more than enough.”

damn. fucking cold. either way, you weren’t backing down. you stood there, holding a firm staring competition with him before opening your mouth to speak.

“shouei, it’s been 7 months and news flash! it doesn’t. when you do shit like this, it makes me feel fucking inadequate. like i’m not deserving of you. long story short, you make me feel like shit. i’m tired of it sho’.”

“y/n, regardless of how you feel, i told you how i feel, and that ain’t gonna change.”

you couldn’t accept what he was telling you, believing that what you were saying weren’t getting through to his thick skull. his stance was too relaxed for your liking, arms simply crossed over the other, looking slightly bored.

“you’re not getting it shouei!” you raised your voice slightly, not quite shouting, but about two thirds of the way there. “you’re not understan-”

“oi, i didn’t get into a relationship with you just so you can make my life harder. fix up or leave.”

you halted, making sure you heard him correctly. to hear that he basically wouldn’t fight for 7 months worth of memories and time with each other left you in denial that it would be so easy for him to let go.

“excuse me?”

“did i stutter? fix up, or leave. two choices, one answer. it’s up to you but whatever you pick is your business.”

he gave you an out, an out from what you were currently going through. and as much as you did love and care for barou, you’d be a fool not to take it. things would only get worse.

you chose the latter, opting to leave, considering how little value your relationship held to barou. weeks passed, and the items you once held in the apartment decreased, leaving a half completed house, just like your heart.

he continued as normal at first, trying to get used to the newfound ‘freedom’. but as days passed on, the emptiness of the household became more apparent. the meals you used to cook were no more, barou having to take on the tasks himself. his injuries were taken care of in a subpar manner. while he could do it adequately, they weren’t bandaged or plastered as well as you used to do it. yes he would clean, but having it done already when he came back from training and to his standard…made him start to realise just how much you really did for him.

and maybe— maybe you weren’t so bad to have around. you did give him a sense of comfort that he could not achieve on his own, filling him on things that happened during your day gave him a sense of normalcy which alternately gave him that balance from his meticulous life as a quickly rising footballer.

he missed you, he missed what you had,

it’s a pity he realised only when it was too late.

☆彡 ITOSHI RIN

“honestly i don’t understand why i got with you in the first place. you’re so lukewarm it hurts.”

you were both busy. you both knew and understood that. rin was constantly abroad on travels for football and you had your own stuff going on at work, often leaving the office late at night.

when your schedules would occasionally match up and you’d both be home, most of the time it would still be you alone. rin would go off on his own to his usual training ground and work himself to the bone. he wouldn’t even tell you he was leaving, disregarding your worries or concerns that may surface.

you jolted awake randomly, looking to your left to see disturbed duvet covers, but an empty side. yet again. next you turned to your phone, squinting at the light from the screen which temporarily blinded you.

2:34am

you could take a guess or two at where rin was. specifically because you knew he lost his last match abroad and was pissed off about it, meaning double the training he usually did. you threw on some clothes, splashed water on your face and grabbed your car keys to drive to the open football field.

the massive stadium style lights lit up the field, illuminating it in a cool white, as you pulled up next to rin’s car. even from the car park you could hear the discernible sounds of rin’s foot booting a ball repeatedly. once closer, you could see him in his normal training gear, sweating profusely, enough to fill a small bucket.

“rin!”

he stopped, just short of making the next ball his victim, making eye contact with you, not expecting to see you there of all places this late.

he waited until you had crossed the distance between you, and stood in front of him to speak.

“y/n, why are you out here this early? i thought you were sleeping.”

“rin, i should be asking you that. it’s too early to be this active my love. come home please, i’m worried for you.”

all was silent for a moment, the only audible sounds on the pitch being a crow cawing in the distance, and rin’s heavy breathing.

“…i’m fine. just go back home. it’s too early for you to be up.”

you stood, hand on hip, showing your determination to get him to give up, not taking no for an answer.

“rin, you need to sleep. you’re overworking yourself. what happens when you’re fatigued and you leave yourself open for mistakes to happen? it’ll be worse for you in the long run.”

“tch, i wouldn’t expect someone who does office work all day to know the inner workings of an athlete. you don’t understand y/n.”

you sighed exasperatingly at his attempts to disarm you. he could be so stubborn when it was really for his own good.

“rin, i don’t need to be an athlete to understand that this isn’t good for you. anyone with two working brain cells can understand that constant working out and lack of sleep isn’t healthy.”

he rolled his eyes and turned back to the football in front of him.

“fine. whether or not you leave isn’t my problem, but i’m not leaving. stay or go, the outcome is the same either way.”

he took position, aiming and shooting flawlessly at the top left corner of the goal, the ball spinning against the net before falling to the ground.

he grabbed another ball, ready to complete the same procedure before you interrupted him once more.

“rin, just please come home, you can come back tomorrow. just because you lost your match doesn’t mean you should overwork yourself like this.”

this time when he turned back towards you, the tone had shifted. his face immediately darkened, eyes thinning into dark slits, eyebrows forming a crease on his forehead. his teal eyes shot daggers into yours.

“listen. we may be together, but that doesn’t mean you get to talk to me like you know what i’m going through. i’m going to be the best football player out there, and if i need to work double to make that happen, then so. be. it. i don’t need someone like you telling me about what i should or should not be doing.”

you stood in silence, effectively stunned and insulted simultaneously. you couldn’t say anything to counter yourself, rin’s harsh words opening up a side to him you’ve never seen before. that wasn’t the worst of it though.

“honestly i don’t understand why i got with you in the first place. you’re so lukewarm it hurts.”

your heart shattered, face hung in desolation and disheartenment.

after not hearing you argue back for a while he scoffed, walking to the side to collect his training bag. “whatever, i’m leaving now.”

he left you there, standing while the gears turned in your head to make some semblance of his words.

you didn’t even register you were crying until the cold nipped at your cheeks, decreasing the temperature of the liquid against your face. you pulled yourself together, just about enough to shakily make your way back to your car and press the ignition button.

you spent the whole car ride crying your eyes out, before wiping your eyes as you arrived back home. rin’s car was nowhere to be seen.

you walked up to the front door, slotting your key in and twisting your wrist to align with the lock.

pushing the door open, you stepped in to see the lights off and the aura dark.

“rin?”

silence.

“rin, are you there?”

nothing.

you sighed, tossing your keys on the table next to the door, making a beeline to your shared bedroom. it was empty, no signs of life present.

you stripped out of your outside clothes and slipped under the covers,

leaving you to cry yourself to sleep, wondering when it all went wrong.

baby you sold me a dream pt.2

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