#I may feel stuck where I am right now
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it was once observed by a dear friend that the hours in which i am most alert are like 7pm to 2am which probably explains a lot about how my posts get worse throughout the evening. but also sometimes i look at today where i was just sort of gnawing the couch all day until about 5pm when i wrote an entire fic in two hours and then another entire post about kaapo which to be clear took another two hours bc i had to chase links and explain my passions in a kind way and this was in addition to a church meeting. i would excel as the person who lights and then extinguishes lamps in the night
#this morning my therapist was like your eyes are red what's going on#and i said bro i am not on drugs. it is cold and dry in my apartment and i was standing in front of a sad lamp#and they said ah. a sun lamp. i see#YES. BC I AM NOT A MORNING PERSON AND I AM BEING PUNISHED BY CAPITALISM TO GO TO THERAPY AT 10 IN THE MORNING#INSTEAD OF 6PM WHEN I WOULD BE ABLE TO HOLD A CONVERSATION BETTER#i think they think i am abusing substances. human the reason i am the way i am bc i am not abusing substances#i am rawdogging reality in almost every way and i HATE it. i am experiencing a full of range of emotions in real life!!#one good thing about today i must say. i looked in the mirror and went oh wow my california hair stylist did a good job!#my california hair stylist was good at cutting my hair in that she was filipina and understood how to cut filipino hair#she was not good at cutting my hair in that she would get too deep in explaining warriors drama and get distracted while cutting my hair#and up doing something absolutely wacko that made me look like a pepe frog guy bc she was too amped up about klay and steph#and then i'd be stuck with fucking alt right hair for a good three weeks and my only saving grace is how i look ambiguously ethnic#BUT when i saw her last i was like i need you to give me a haircut where if i can't get my hair cut for four months i don't#look stupid as hell. and she said oh yeah i can do that. and gave me a blow by blow of klay and steph's divorce while cutting my hair#and i was fearing for my life. but now that it has grown out pretty significantly i will say she did a very good job of cutting it#unlike every other time i grew out my hair in a big way and it looked incredibly stupid for several months until it evened out#but she cut it so it looks like my hair is on purpose. which i appreciate!#now i have more time to decide if i want to avenge bo bichette and grow out my hair again#without feeling stressed about looking incredible stupid and unkempt#thank you nicole...a true ally...i will never forget how much you hate kevin durant even though you stressed me out so bad...#and you may be wondering why if she gave me that many bad hair cuts why i'd keep going to her#and the answer is: bc i only want my warriors and 49ers news to be reported by an energetic filipina lesbian holding razor on my neck#and unfortunately the local newspaper beats just can't replicate that experience#fresno oilers.txt
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#ive been i think unintentionally doing everything with a sense that i may not be able to soon#i feel bad for worrying people#im just so resigned to the feeling#its so hard for me to see this working out#i think i might be stuck where i am and i dont think i can handle that#i dont know right now#going to bed
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another new year with bakugou katsuki.
One more hour ‘til the New Year.
“So,” you started, “we’re about to ring in another year. Guess I’m stuck with you again, huh?”
Bakugou paused from tidying up the scattered toys in your shared bedroom. The gears in his head need a moment to get to processing.
“Hah?”
“It’s just hitting me, you know? I’ve been putting up with you for how long now? Feels like forever.”
A scowl immediately made itself known in his lips, unsure if you’re joking or not. “The hell are you gettin’ at?”
You tapped your chin as though deep in thought. “Maybe it’s not too late to return you to your parents. They probably miss having you around, anyway.”
“You’re jokin’.”
Bakugou’s eyes blink dumbfoundedly.
“Does your parents have a no-return policy?”
His voice dropped to a grumble, and his brows furrowed. He finishes tidying up the toys and joins you on the bed, cuddling close to you (even if he doesn’t consider it cuddling, moreso invading your personal space—but you’re his wife, so he gets a pass).
“As if. You think you can just ship me off like I’m some Amazon package? No way in hell, dummy. You’re stuck with me.”
And I’ll gladly be stuck with you for eternity, he finds himself wanting to say but refrains from doing so.
“Stuck with you, huh? That’s a bold statement, Katsu. What if I do want to send you back?” You laughed softly.
Bakugou snaked his arms around you, pushing himself impossibly closer to the point where you could tease him for being too clingy, his lips tugging into a pout he’d never admit to. “You can’t. You said yes when I proposed. You walked down the aisle. You said ‘for better or worse.’ That’s on you.”
You smiled, combing your hands through his hair. It may appear all spiky and rigid, but you’ve learned that it’s actually fluffy and soft—definitely well taken care of.
“I don’t remember that part. I think you dragged me down the aisle, all grumpy and scowling.”
“I didn’t drag you anywhere. You were practically sprintin’ to get hitched to me.”
“Was I?”
“You were,” he scoffs, but it’s soft, as if thankful of the fact. “And now you’re mine forever. No refunds, no returns, no exchanges.”
The sound of your laugh is something that’ll never get old to him. He could play it on repeat and never choose to turn it off.
“Forever’s a long time, Katsu.”
“Forever’s not a long time when I get to spend it with you,” he says. It’s the truth, and he can never bring himself to lie to you. Not now, not ever.
Because if anything, Bakugou Katsuki loves with his whole heart, puts every piece of himself in the things he does and has done, and he’ll be damned if he ever lets you settle for anyone less.
“Spend it with the little brats, too.” Ah, your two daughters have him wrapped around their little fingers.
You rolled your eyes. “Confident, aren’t you?”
“Definitely.” He reached out and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together. He looks at you with this all too familiar look, as if asking for a simple thing.
“And don’t even joke about tryin’ to get rid of me. You’d be lost without me.”
“Oh, absolutely helpless,” you tease, indulging him with a soft, chaste kiss.
Bakugou snorts. “Whatever.”
“Forever, right?”
“Forever,” Bakugou said firmly, resting his forehead against yours. His voice dropped into a quieter, almost shy tone. “And don’t forget, you’re stuck with me, too. No way I’m lettin’ you go.”
Your heart melted a little at his rare softness, and you kissed his cheek. “Fine, Katsu. I’ll keep you. But only because the return policy’s expired.”
“You’re lucky I love you.”
“No, you’re lucky I love you,” you joked.
“Damn right I am,” he replied, choosing to enjoy this serene moment with you rather than bothering to watch the same old boring fireworks to celebrate the new year an hour later.
Your husband can recreate any fireworks shows any day, anyway.
SEUMYO © 2025, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
#‹𝟹 𓏲🗒️ꜝֶָ֢ ʾʾ#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugou fluff#bakugou drabble#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo fluff#bakugo drabble#mha x reader#mha fluff#mha drabbles#bnha x reader#bnha fluff#bnha drabble#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou
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𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
FICMAS DAY 3: GIFT-GIVING
bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: as bucky’s secret santa, you’re determined to give him the best christmas present he’s ever received.
contains: grumpy buck fluff, some angst, idiots who are crushing hard, swearing
word count: 2.4k
a/n: this is a long one i’m apologizing in advance
i am SO SORRY for crickets in the ficmas department the past week, i hit a big brick wall with this and i’ve been so all over the place with my own holiday planning and such that i ended up having to cut the masterlist in half because i knew i couldn’t get it all done. i’m very sorry to anyone who was looking forward to what got scrapped, but i couldn’t bring myself to rush through writing and put out something i don’t believe it my best work.
also, do people even want avengers fix it fics anymore?? i debated between the “everything is fine the team lives at the compound together” vibe and setting this post tfatws, but ultimately decided the former was easier to write. and i think it worked in my favor because this turned out really cute :)
!! divider by @strangergraphics !!
FICMAS MASTERLIST
your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.
who’s idea was this again? wanda? tony? steve? it didn’t matter anymore. all that mattered right now was that you didn’t pass out in the elevator. a feat that was becoming more and more difficult the closer you got to your destination.
a secret santa is supposed to bring you joy, not near paralyzing anxiety.
at first, you were 100% on board with participating in a gift exchange. as much as you wanted to shower all of your teammates with presents galore, not everyone shared the same sentiment, and thus the idea of a secret santa was proposed.
excitement courses through your veins as you reach your hand into the cheap santa hat tony grabbed from god knows where in storage, with little pieces of paper containing the names of your fellow avengers. you decided to wait until you were back in the privacy of your room to open it up, afraid of any wandering eyes taking a peak. the last thing you wanted was the element of surprise to be stripped away. it was half the fun after all.
as sam pulls the last name, you quietly excuse yourself and all but rush upstairs, too eager to get in the holiday spirit and brainstorm. as soon as the door shuts behind you, you hurriedly reveal the contents of the paper.
if it’s natasha, i can get her a pair of ballet slippers. she’s been mentioning how she wants to start dancing again.
what about bruce? maybe a journal for all his ideas? he always seems to be losing sticky notes in the lab.
a million different ideas swirl around in your head, reminding you just how much joy this time of year brings. to you, there was nothing better than seeing the gleeful looks on people’s faces when they opened their gifts. the corners of your mouth turn up at the memory of your first christmas with the team. how shy and reluctant you were, afraid of going overboard. now, a few years later, you’re completely unabashed in showing just how much you care about them.
your bright smile morphs into a deep frown as you unfold the paper.
bucky barnes.
quite possibly the most difficult person you could’ve chosen.
to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with bucky. he may be a bit grumpy and standoffish, but it’s with good reason and you know it. that also doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to be impossible to try and shop for.
what do you get for the man who seemingly despises anything the modern world has to offer? the same man who you’re 99% sure hates your guts. come to think of it, how did you even pull him? he most definitely wasn’t downstairs 20 minutes ago when everyone scribbled down their names and tossed them in tony’s direction.
it was irrelevant now. you were stuck being his secret santa, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give james buchanan barnes the best christmas gift he’s ever gotten in his century-long lifetime.
the two weeks it took to come up with an idea sure felt like a century. if it wasn’t for the concerning amount of snooping you did, you’d probably be showing up empty handed. thankfully, at almost 1 in the morning on a random tuesday, a lightbulb went off in your brain. you scrambled bright and early the next day to go shopping, and by some lucky form of divine intervention, you acquired the perfect gift.
flash forward to now, and you’re carrying an insanely large box up to bucky’s room. in a blatant stray from what the rest of the team was doing, you decided to give him his present one on one, secluded from everyone else. partly because you were afraid of public embarrassment if he hated it, and partly because you knew bucky wasn’t very fond of being put on display.
you hope he’ll at least be grateful for that.
when the elevator finally chimes, signaling you’ve arrived at the dormitory floor, the box nearly slips from your grasp. not just from how heavy it was, but from the nervous sweat coating your palms.
the hallway is quiet enough to hear a pin drop, save for the faint sound of christmas music playing over the speakers. with careful, calculated steps, you make your way down the length of the corridor, dragging your feet the closer you get to bucky’s room. there’s a small part of you that hopes he’s downstairs in the gym, the kitchen, the backyard, anywhere but here. dropping and dashing wasn’t what you had in mind, but the anxious thumping of your heart was becoming unbearable. you know it will only amplify tenfold if you’re forced to stare into those steel blue eyes of his. the thought alone sends a chill down your spine.
you freeze in place when you hear the sound of a door knob clicking open.
please be wanda’s room, please be wanda’s room.
in front of you, the very last door on the left creaks open, revealing the tall and brooding super soldier whose company you were aiming to avoid.
it’s easy to forget how handsome bucky barnes is when he normally does nothing but grimace in your direction.
you still weren’t used to his new haircut, but it was clear he felt significantly more confident with it. is that a hint of aftershave, or cologne? whatever it was, the scent fit him perfectly; cedarwood with a hint of spice. the green henley he wears fits snugly against his broad frame, emphasizing all the muscles you’ve been caught staring at on more than one occasion. for once, he’s not wearing a scowl, though that changes when he catches sight of you.
surely you must look strange, standing dumbfounded in the middle of the hall with a box covered in santa-printed wrapping paper and a big bow that you can barely hold. right now the floor opening up and swallowing you whole was at the top of your wish list. and st. nick better make it quick.
bucky’s expression shifts from one of disdain to curiosity as he quirks a brow wordlessly. your own knit together in frustration, knowing you now had no choice but to do this exchange face to face.
“need any help?” he questions monotonously. as much as you want to be prideful and reject it, your arms feel like they’re going to fall off any second. he seems to catch your drift despite a verbal response, because in the blink of an eye he’s striding towards you, sweeping the gift from your arms and into his own with ease. you try not to gape at the way his biceps strain against fabric.
you stutter out a “thanks,” as you straighten out your sweater. bucky grunts in return and eyes the package in his hands cautiously. you’re half expecting him to shake it like a child when you catch the tiniest twitch of his upper lip.
it’s the closest thing to a smile he’s ever shown in your presence. something that gives you the courage to actually form a sentence instead of continuing to gawk at him.
here goes nothing.
“this is for you, actually,” you manage to shakily breathe out. bucky halts his observations, a glimmer of surprise briefly dancing across his face.
a beat of silence passes between you. “don’t remember asking for anything," he finally says. it’s still laced with his typical dry sarcasm, but there’s a legitimate amusement in his tone that can’t be missed.
you narrow your eyes at him playfully, feeling a little bit more at ease now that he didn’t completely rebuff you.
“i’m your secret santa, smartass,” you jab with your hands on your hips.
for the first time ever, bucky smirks at you.
“don’t recall asking for that either.”
you throw your hands up in defense, offering him a surprisingly nonchalant shrug. “don’t blame me, i’m pretty sure steve was the one who put your name in.”
“punk,” the man grumbles. he shakes his head, attention turning back to the present in hand once more.
despite his apparent annoyance, you can’t seem to stop yourself from continuing on.
“i know you’re supposed to do this kind of thing with everyone around,” you start off shaky, afraid of upsetting him any more than you may already have. his gaze immediately falls to you upon hearing your voice.
“i also know you’re not a big fan of being the center of attention,” you continue, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans. “figured you’d like this better if it was in private.”
bucky’s features soften. his jaw unclenched, his eyes not so narrow and judgmental. he looks relieved, flattered; a myriad of things you can’t name or place.
“i appreciate that,” he admits, suddenly shy and impish. for a second, he completely forgets about the gift you brought. the simple fact that you were kind enough to consider his feelings, despite how cold he could be to you, makes his heart skip a beat.
you simply nod your head in reply, teetering back and forth on your feet awkwardly trying to decipher your next move.
“you don’t have to open that right now you know.”
he sets the box down on the floor next to his door. “kinda defeats the purpose don’t you think?”
you shrug. “whatever you’re comfortable with. doesn’t matter what you’re “supposed to do.””
why did you care so much about his comfort level? he hardly showed any concern for yours. the notion consumes his thoughts, prohibiting him from offering anything except a nod of acknowledgement.
that awkward silence comes once again, signaling maybe you’ve overstayed your welcome, or that the moment of peace is over. you check your watch in hopes that father time was ending this exchange for you.
just your luck, he’s right on schedule.
“i uh, better get downstairs,” you announce, pointing your thumb in the direction of the elevator. “don’t wanna miss thor forcing everyone to do christmas karaoke.”
a noise akin to laughter snorts out of bucky’s nose, evoking a delightful warmth in your chest. it was different than all the other times you’ve been flustered in the presence of the super soldier. this was less about intimidation and more about…camaraderie. now wondering if maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought.
it’s exactly what you need to reignite your holiday cheer and shed any remaining worries.
before you can second guess, you turn on your heels, closing the gap between your bodies. wrapping a hand around his arm, his metal arm, and offering a gentle caress, the sincerity in your words is clear as day.
“merry christmas buck.”
your touch burns straight through vibranium all the way to his chest. across his entire body, igniting every cell ablaze. a fire consuming him in ways unimaginable.
and yet. he enjoyed the burn.
as you pull away, much to his dismay, the tips of his fingers brush against the inside of your wrist. goosebumps errupt on your skin, from the cool metal, or that fact that bucky was so pretty this close, only time would tell.
“you too,” he murmurs with a faint grin. the soft crinkles by his eyes are likely going to be the subject of your daydreams for the next week.
you flash him a smile over your shoulder before turning down the hall and averting his gaze, not wanting him to see just how much you were blushing.
while unbeknownst to you, bucky was now a very bright shade of red.
he waits until he can hear the elevator doors close before slipping back into his room and very carefully unwrapping the box. there’s a nervousness in his stomach that’s unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. as the bare brown packaging becomes exposed, he begins ripping back the numerous layers of packing tape. you really took your time on this, he thinks to himself.
that funny feeling only amplifies when he sees the contents of the box.
a record player, a very expensive looking one at that, sits inside with another three wrapped items that he concludes are vinyls, judging from their flatness. on top of it all, there was a small note shrouded in luxe stationary. bucky’s heart stutters when he sees his name scribbled delicately in your handwriting.
his fingers falter briefly before he digs into the envelope.
i know this isn’t like the ones from the 40s, but it’s the closest thing i could find. also got a few of your favorite records, and one i think you’ll like too. don’t forget i have quite a collection of my own in case you ever want to try something new.
merry christmas ♡
bucky unceremoniously plops down on the edge of his bed. the normally stiff feeling mattress now mirrored a sea of clouds and feathers. he’d gladly sink into the abyss of softness, if it meant pumping the brakes on his thundering heartbeat.
from the moment he met you, bucky knew he was in trouble.
you had an aura about you that was magnetic, always drawing people in and bathing them in your light. your unconditional kindness and consideration, hell, even your mere presence in a room seemed to liven it up entirely. it was a hypnotizing, almost dangerous thing for the man, and if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was to push people away. for their sake, and his. bucky was certain that once he started keeping his distance, that you’d eventually give up in trying to crack his tough outer shell, or that the silly feelings he had would disappear.
but right now, as he’s staring at your handwriting and rubbing his thumb repeatedly over that little heart, he knows it was all in vain.
later that night, he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the familiar croon of it’s been a long, long time wafting from his present. he tries to focus on the beauty of the song, or the lights he can see from his window twinkling out on the lawn, but it’s nearly impossible. you’re the subject of all his thoughts. have been since the moment he saw you standing out in the hall. from the scent of your perfume to the little intricacies of your penmanship. the thing that’s plaguing him the most, however, is your hand on his arm.
bucky’s real arm had been gone for over half a century, having stopped experiencing phantom limb syndrome ages ago. yet somehow he felt it there, clear as day. the same tactile sensations on his flesh, right arm, in the metal prosthetic of his left. an electric shock that he’s never recognized before, and that he wouldn’t be opposed to feeling again.
tomorrow, he plans to thank steve for mischievously adding his name into the lottery.
and to ask you about your record collection.
thanks for reading! <3
tag list: @alastor-simp @j4desblurbs @pandapetals
!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!
#retrosabers#sid writes shit#ficmas#ficmas 2024#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes#the falcon and the winter soldier#sebastian stan
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run little bunny
pairing: softdark!ceo!bucky x naive!assistant!reader
word count: 8.6k
summary: Being John Walker’s assistant is hard; he’s mean, disrespectful, misogynistic, the whole nine yards. On top of that, he hardly pays you fairly. So, when you’re fired for a mistake you’re sure wasn’t your fault, you’re at risk of being kicked out by your rude roommates. Luckily for you, James Barnes, a wildly successful CEO, has found his way into your life. And he’s going to take such good care of you.
warnings: where do i even start, 18+, minors DNI and i fucking mean it, mild coercion, some of it could be interpreted as stalking, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, sir kink, oral (f receiving), housewife kink, breeding kink, pet names (bunny, darling), dirty talk, dom!bucky and sub!reader, choking, squirting, basically just absolute filth, a little hurt-comfort, reader’s roommates are awful and mean, not john walker friendly but when am i ever
a/n: so this was supposed to just be some quick smut but as always i went overboard, so please enjoy! likes and comments are appreciated, reblogs are even better!
tip jar | main masterlist | ao3 | run little bunny masterlist
Your hands are shaking slightly, your heartbeat races with anxiety, and your leg bounces rapidly. Today is an important day after all, and your boss has made it clear that if you mess up in any way then he’d have to rethink your employment. That sent dread flooding through your body, so you’ve been preparing yourself for the last week to make sure everything for the meeting is perfect.
And, on the technical side, everything is immaculate - mostly due to you staying up until almost midnight each night to polish the presentation. You thought everything was done properly, but when you’d walked into the building that morning your boss was holed up in his office finishing up his portion of the work, so you’d decided to simply email him to let him know that you had arrived.
Everything was perfect. But when you get into the meeting room, your boss’ eyes go wide, anger clouding them while he scowls. You quickly make your way to his side, only for him to bark out a command for you to grab water for his incoming guests. Placing your notebook on the table, you turn to scurry off to the side to grab the glasses, but you’re stopped when your boss grabs your arm harshly.
“Do you have a change of clothes?”
“Um… Um, I-“ Your boss raises an eyebrow, and you feel like you might throw up from the sudden anxiety. “No, sir.”
He scoffs, muttering under his breath something about looking “trashy,” before releasing you and allowing you to go to the minibar.
Your arm stings, no doubt sporting a red mark because of how harsh the grip was. You’re also confused because you thought the floral dress you’d chosen was pretty. Sure, it may not be high class, but your boss has never had a problem with it before, but you’re assuming that he’s on edge due to who he’s meeting with.
James Barnes; the most powerful and successful CEO in the entire country. You haven’t met him personally, but from what you hear you know that he’s not someone you want to upset. According to the hushed whispers around the office, he stands at a towering 6’6, tattoos cover his arms and hands, and if he frowns then you better move out of the way.
Would Mr. Barnes be upset with your attire?
You desperately hope not, because you need this job. While you can barely make your rent and utilities, you don’t have any other job lined up, and you’re way too scared to ask for a raise from a man who so clearly disrespects you. For right now, though, you’re stuck.
The oak doors open, and one of the office assistants steps off to the side while holding the door open for several men to walk in. You hear him before you see him. You’ve never heard his voice, but the commanding tone he uses when he addresses your boss lets you know that it must be him.
“Hello, Mr. Walker,” Mr. Barnes greets him, and you can hear your boss stand and greet him as well.
You’re trying your hardest to keep calm while you walk toward the table with a platter holding several glasses of water. You do your best to place them in front of the men without showing how nervous you are.
But when you get to Mr. Barnes, you nearly spill the drink all over the table once you get a whiff of his clearly expensive cologne. Oh, how you’d love to be surrounded by that scent, the woodsy smell almost intimidates you but you’re unsure as to why you don’t mind.
You’ve never done anything even remotely sexual with a man, you’re far too awkward and anxious in a way that isn’t too appealing to many, but for a very brief moment, you wonder what he looks like underneath the black three-piece suit — the prominent veins on his hands insinuates that the rest of his body is probably just as toned. But you’re immediately snapped out of your thoughts by your boss’ harsh voice calling your name.
“Aren’t you going to greet our guests?”
You breathe in sharply, heat flooding your face as you stumble your way through an apology and a polite “Hello, Mr. Barnes.”
You’re about to leave his side when he reaches out to grasp your hand — surprisingly gentle for such a powerful man. With a slight jump, you glance over to your boss who’s staring at you as though you’re becoming a nuisance and should quickly get back to your chair beside his. But you can’t, both because of Mr. Barnes’ hold and the fact that when you look back at the man in front of you his ocean-blue eyes pull you in, and you’re unable to break your gaze.
“And who might you be, darling?” His eyes twinkle with mischief but you’re too blind to see it, you’re too flustered to really focus.
“Oh, you don’t need to worry about her, she’s just –”
“I wasn’t asking you,” Mr. Barnes snaps, briefly glancing at your boss and not bothering to hide his smirk when he almost visibly cowers. “Now, darling,” he continues, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “What’s your name?”
You nearly squeak, having to force yourself to tell him your name before he gets upset with your lack of answer.
Mr. Barnes hums, then brings your hand up so he can place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”
You flounder for a moment, unsure as to what to make of the compliment. You don’t have much time to overthink it because this meeting has a time limit and you’re sure your boss would prefer to get this over with.
“Th-Thank you, sir.” You’re not sure why, but your voice is breathy because something about that word — sir — just feels right for him, though you’re not sure what it means.
“So polite,” He mumbles to himself, and his eyes seem to grow darker. Finally, he lets you go, shooting you a wink and smirking to himself when you scurry off to sit next to your boss.
The presentation went relatively smoothly — thank God. You don’t know what you would have done if anything went wrong. In fact, Mr. Barnes seemed extremely invested in what you had to say, catching your gaze several times and causing you to stumble over your words a few times, only for your boss to clear his throat and glare at you. Eventually, Mr. Barnes throws him his own glare, silently telling him to shut up, to which your boss finally does.
Once the meeting was declared to be over, you were quick to close your notebook and tuck your pen behind your ear, then you went around the table and started collecting the now-empty glasses. As you’re running around the room trying to clean up, you can feel a powerful gaze boring holes into your body, but you try not to pay it any mind. It’s probably just your boss anyway.
But when you turn away from the desk to finally leave, you bump into Mr. Barnes, your body nearly slamming into his very sturdy chest. His hands shoot to your hips almost immediately, helping to steady yourself.
The warmth of his body pulls you in, but that might also be because Mr. Barnes is literally bringing you closer to his chest by the hold he has on your hips. And that’s when you realize that your hands are clutching his shoulders, but you can’t find it in you to let go.
“What’s the rush?” He asks playfully, his upper lip quirking up in a smirk. “You’re running around like a little bunny.”
“Oh, oh I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes.” You’re not sure why you’re apologizing, you recognize that he’s just teasing, but something in you doesn’t want to disappoint him.
“Mr. Barnes.” He hums, his eyes briefly glancing down to your lips. “I like it when you call me that.”
Now you’re really flustered, your face heats up and you have to do everything in your power not to faint — the way his voice deepens is doing something to you and you don’t know how to handle it.
“I’d like it a lot more if you called me James, though. Can you do that for me, bunny?”
“Ye-Yes, James.” You might have been embarrassed about how quick you were to answer him, but the way he closes his eyes and tightens the hold he has on your body you’re thinking it was the right decision.
Mr. Barnes — James — opens his mouth again, but is interrupted by the door being opened by one of the office assistants, whose eyes immediately go wide in shock. It seems to take a second for her to gather her bearings, but she recovers soon enough.
“Mr. Walker is requesting you,” She tells you, glancing over at James and giving him a nervous smile. “He says you have to file all of the paperwork for the meeting.”
You sigh, you’re tired of having to do everything for your boss only for him to take credit ninety percent of the time. But, it’s what you’re paid to do, so you suck it up.
Looking back to James, you give him a shy smile, reluctantly removing your hands from his shoulders.
“Um, I guess I should go, James.” You’re a little sad, and you don’t quite know why having to leave him and go back to your duties makes you so anxious. It could be because Mr. Walker is mean, or maybe because James makes you feel safe. In reality, it’s probably a mixture of both.
“I guess you should,” He murmurs, removing one of his large hands from your waist so he can cup the back of your neck and pull you closer, only for him to press a lingering kiss on your forehead.
And absolutely no one can blame you for the quiet whimper that leaves your lips, even though you are surprised by your reaction. It doesn’t matter though, because he finally moves back, letting go of you and reaching into the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket so he can pull out what looks like a business card.
“Here,” James says, handing it to you. “In case you ever want to talk, you’re always free to call me.”
“What would we talk about?” Your confusion causes James to chuckle, and he seems amused by your naivety.
“Whatever you want, Bunny. Whether you just want to talk about nonsense or vent about your boss. Doesn’t matter to me as long as I get to hear your beautiful voice.”
With that, he gives you a wink, then turns to the door and leaves, though he does glance back at you. With one final smile, he leaves, and you’re left with a million racing thoughts while standing in the middle of the meeting room.
It took three days for you to finally reach out to James. As soon as you got home that night you ran to your bedroom and added his number to your phone, going so far as to put his business card in your bedside table drawer so you wouldn’t lose it. It just took a little time to gain the courage to actually contact him. After all, what if he was just being friendly? You’ve never met anyone quite like him, so it’s hard to read into his actions.
But today had gone horribly. The café you frequent before work was so busy that you didn’t have time to grab your coffee without being extremely late, the bistro you were demanded to pick up lunch from was closed — and while it wasn’t your fault, Mr. Walker certainly seemed to think it was. Your workload was piled high and by the end of the day, you were on the verge of crying due to the stress and mean comments thrown at you by your boss.
You need a shoulder to lean on and, unfortunately for you, you don’t have anyone else to go to. You’re pretty sure your roommates hate you and only let you live with them because they haven’t found a new roommate yet, you don’t have siblings and your parents are states away, and you have maybe a few friends, but even then the communication is scarce.
You need a shoulder to lean on, and James offered his, so you finally decided to pull up his contact and start a new message. It takes several minutes to figure out what to say, but you eventually settle on something simple.
Hi, James. I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Mr. Walker’s assistant. You gave me your number in case I ever wanted to talk.
You hit send and stare down at your phone anxiously as you wait for a reply. A minute goes by, then two, suddenly five, and then you’re starting to regret texting him, what if he doesn’t remember you? What if he’s busy? What if –
Your phone starts ringing, James’ name popping up on the screen and taunting you — almost commanding you to answer.
“Hello?”
“Good evening, bunny,” James says softly, and if you press your ear close enough to your phone you could pretend that he’s right next to you.
“Hi, James. I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Your voice is soft and timid, you’d hate to disrupt anything he’s doing.
“Don’t be silly, bunny,” He says, his smile evident in his tone. “I always have time for you.”
“Oh, um. Thank you, sir.” It’s almost indescribable, but you can just make out the soft curse James lets out, followed by some shuffling.
“So, what did you want to talk about?”
You’re a little apprehensive, but with James’ gentle encouragement, you’re able to get everything off your chest, complaining about your day and everything that went wrong. Each word spoken feels like weights lifting off of your shoulders, allowing you to breathe easier every time James hums. He doesn’t interrupt you, which you greatly appreciate, and by the time you’re done, you fall backward onto your bed, relieved.
“I’m sorry you had such a bad day, bunny,” James coos with his smooth-as-honey voice, filling your body with warmth and comfort. “A pretty girl like you doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.” That comment floods your face with heat and you shuffle up the bed to lean against the headboard.
“Oh, I - thank you, sir.” There it is again, sir. James exhales slowly as though he’s trying to control himself from doing something he shouldn’t, and part of you is momentarily worried that you’ve upset him somehow. You don’t want to disappoint him.
“What can I do to help?”
What can he do to help? You’re not quite sure, you’re not sad, and you’re not angry, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t need at least a hug right now. But, it would be too imposing to ask, right? There’s no way he would be willing to come over – that is, if your roommates would even allow him over. And he certainly wouldn’t invite a stranger into his house. So, you lie to him.
“Oh – Oh, no, James, I don’t – you don’t have to – it’s fine –”
“Bunny.”
Your mouth promptly closes, taking a deep breath through your nose and exhaling slowly.
“Sorry, James.”
“Don’t be sorry, bunny.” There’s some shuffling in the background as he talks and you can’t help but sigh at how sincere his voice is. “Now, what can I do to help?” And before you can even open your mouth he’s talking again, “Don’t say nothing, because I know there’s something you want.”
You’re silent for a moment, stewing over how to tell him. But, he’ll probably just be empathetic and say something along the lines of ‘I’d hug you if I were there right now’. So, you decide to just spit it out.
“I guess I just want… I just need a hug, I think,” You sigh, feeling a sudden sense of loneliness. It’s hard not having anyone to talk to, to be isolated even from the people you live with, to be put down time and time again, and not have anyone to support you.
“Where are you?” James asks, and you hear some more shuffling in the background, followed by the jingling of what sounds like keys.
“I’m at my apartment,” You say, confused. He couldn’t possibly be coming over, could he?
“Send me your address and I’ll come pick you up, we’ll go out for ice cream,” James says decisively, and you can tell he doesn’t want any protesting. “Bunny,” He says when you don’t say anything. “You need cheering up and I’m here to do just that. Please send me your address.” He speaks gently but once again, he doesn’t seem to want you to argue against it.
“O-Okay, I will.”
“Good, I’ll see you soon, bunny.” When you bid him goodbye, he hangs up, and you’re quick to send him your address, giving him instructions to text you when he arrives so you can meet him out front of the building.
During the next twenty or so minutes you’re practically running around your room trying to make yourself look presentable. You cried all of your makeup off so you opt to just wash the rest of it off, and then you pull your hair back and away from your face. It takes a bit to decide what to wear, after all this is just a friend taking another friend to get ice cream, but this is also James Barnes; he has more wealth than you could possibly imagine. You want to impress him and appear grateful for his friendliness, and looking at least half-decent would achieve that.
Finally, someone knocks on your door, yelling, “Someone’s here for you!”
With a rush of excitement, you grab your phone and wallet and slip on your shoes, then make your way out of your room to the front door where another roommate is standing in front of it, leaning against the frame and giggling at the person.
James.
He looks bored, almost like he’s trying to appear interested but can’t quite muster up the energy to do so. When you approach, he lifts his head, a wide smile crossing his face.
“There’s my little bunny,” He says confidently, completely ignoring your annoyed roommate. “Come on, let’s get you cheered up.”
With that you walk to him, timidly accepting his outstretched hand and letting him gently tug you into the hallway. When you turn around to tell your roommate that you’ll be back later you can’t even get a word out before you see her glaring at you and shutting the door — the click of the lock is audible through the empty hallway.
“Are they always like that?” James asks with a tone that conveys concern.
“Like what?” You know what he’s talking about, but you hate acknowledging it.
“Rude and disrespectful.” He is so blunt that it causes you to look down in embarrassment to avoid his intense gaze.
Yes, you want to say, they’re awful. You want to shout from the rooftops that your roommates are horrible to you, but you’re just too scared to do it.
“Oh – Oh, no, they’re just…” You trail off, peeking up at James to see the disbelief in his eyes. When you look down again, he brings up one of his hands to cup your cheek and guide your head up so you can look at him head-on.
“You don’t need to lie to me, bunny. I want you to trust me.” James sighs, leaning forward and placing a small kiss on your forehead. “Come on,” He squeezes your hand, smiling softly at you as he starts walking you out of the building and to his car.
It doesn’t take long to get to the ice cream shop, only a five-minute drive, and when you get there James keeps the car locked as he gets out so he can circle around to your side and open your door for you.
“Th-Thank you,” You say as you put your hand in James’ outstretched one, letting him guide you out of the car. He keeps his hold on your hand as you walk into the shop, going so far as to thread your fingers together while you wait in line.
The image of your hand encompassed by James’ large tattooed one has your tummy fluttering with butterflies. But, you must have been staring for a little too long because you’re broken out of your trance by James gently squeezing your hand.
“Is this okay, bunny?”
“Yes!” Heat floods your face as soon as you say it, feeling embarrassed by how quick you were to answer. “I, I mean. Um… Yes, it’s okay.”
James smirks at you, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. But, before you can stew in your shame, the man behind the counter says, “Next!”
You walk up to the counter, letting James order before giving yours. And when it’s time to pay, James doesn’t even drop your hand while he fishes his wallet out of his pocket and takes out his card. Your tummy flutters once again.
“Come, bunny.”
With your desserts now in hand, James leads you to a corner booth, only letting go of your hand so you can scoot in. He sits across from you, looking at you with what can only be described as thinly veiled hunger. It’s not off-putting, you just don’t know what it means.
“So, um…” You trail off looking down at your bowl of ice cream, fiddling with the spoon they gave you.
“You don’t need to be nervous, bunny,” James coos, reaching over and placing his hand palm up on the table, and you’re helpless but to take it, practically aching to feel his warmth again. “Now, other than everything that happened today, how have you been?”
It’s surprisingly easy to fall into a pleasant conversation with him, he asks questions and lets you finish talking before adding his own input, and he doesn’t break eye contact. It feels like he’s really listening to what you’re saying, and it’s almost freeing to have someone in your corner, someone you can trust and depend on.
What feels like far too soon, though has probably been several hours due to how dark it is outside, the man behind the counter comes to your table to tell you that they’re closing soon, and you can’t help but be sad. You’re enjoying James’ company far more than you probably should since you’ve only known him for a handful of days. It almost seems like you’ve known him your whole life.
“Well, bunny. I guess it’s time to go,” James says remorsefully, getting up out of the booth and reaching out his hand to help you out of the booth as well. He keeps holding your hand while you walk out of the door — making sure to throw away your trash on the way out.
James insists on opening the car door for you again — ever the gentleman. There’s a comfortable silence on the drive back to your apartment, your stomach swirling the entire time because James refuses to drop your hand. But when you get to your apartment building, a small amount of anxiety settles inside you, and you’re desperately hoping your roommates are asleep because you don’t feel like dealing with them after you’ve had such a good evening.
The silence is a little more tense while you ride the elevator up to your floor, but you’re grounded by James’ touch. It’s not until you get to your front door that you really look at him, staring into his twinkling eyes. And when he smiles, it settles your nerves.
“I guess this is the end of our night, bunny,” He says, squeezing your hand one last time before dropping it. Before you can mourn the loss of his touch he’s wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close to his chest, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hear the squeak you let out. You wrap your arms around his waist, letting James tuck your face into his neck while he holds you close.
“I had a wonderful time tonight,” James murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead.
“Me too,” You say softly, breathing in and inhaling his comforting scent. “Thank you for cheering me up.”
“Of course, bunny. I’m always here for you.” Then, James pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. “Always.”
You can’t help but smile. His gaze is hypnotizing, pulling you in and almost refusing to let you go.
“Thank you, James,” You breathe out, and one last time, James squeezes you and kisses your forehead, then steps back.
“I’ll talk to you soon, bunny?” James asks, smiling wide.
“Y–Yeah, I’ll text you. Or you can text me. Or call, that’s–that’s fine too.” Heat floods your face in embarrassment, but you don’t feel too bad about it because James only smiles wider, nodding once.
“I will.”
“Goodnight, James.” With that, you turn and unlock your door, turning around to look at James one last time as you shut the door.
“Goodnight bunny, I hope you have dreams as sweet as you are.” James winks, and you swear you can hear him chuckle when you squeak out an “o-okay,” and shut the door.
And maybe James is some kind of wizard because you have the best night of sleep you’ve had in a while.
For the next few weeks you and James text almost every day, and talk on the phone every couple of days. You’ve met up with him a few times as well, accepting his invitations to lunch or coffee. Each outing would last for several hours, too enraptured by his… everything to be the one to suggest the night should end. You’ve come to trust him, you know with a possibly concerning amount of certainty that James would do everything possible to keep you happy and safe.
Roughly a month and a half after meeting James, you’re sitting on your bed in the same position you were in when you first called him crying. Unlike last time, though, you don’t hesitate to call him. He’s told you time and time again that it doesn’t even matter if he’s in a meeting, he’ll always make time for you. You just hope that’s true.
He picks up almost immediately.
“Hello, bunny,” James says with the same soft tone he always uses when talking to you.
“H-hi, James,” You manage to say, before breaking out into sobs. You’re nearly hyperventilating, trying and failing to catch your breath between hiccups, and it takes a few minutes to calm down enough to hear rustling in the background on James’ end.
“Are you at home?” He asks with the utmost concern.
“Ye-Yes.”
“Stay there,” He says, using what you’ve deemed his CEO voice. “I’m coming to get you.”
“Ja–”
“Bunny.”
You sigh, knowing you can’t change his mind – not that you really want him to. You could really benefit from a hug right about now and James always provides the best ones.
“Can you at least stay on the phone with me?” Your voice is small, still sniffling every few words. You don’t think you could handle being alone with your own thoughts right now.
“Of course. You know I’ll do anything for you.”
It takes James twenty minutes to get to you, and he talks to you the whole time, just menial things to get your mind off of your sadness. When he lets you know that he’s at your apartment, you don’t even wait for him to tell you he’s coming up, you simply grab your jacket and slip on your shoes, then run to the front door without so much as a word to your roommates in the living room.
“James!” Upon seeing the man himself standing next to his car, you fling yourself into his arms, taking deep breaths to prevent yourself from crying in public. “Thank you for coming.”
“Bunny, how many times do I have to tell you that I’ll do whatever it takes to keep a smile on your pretty face?” James’ tone is teasing, but you know he’s serious if his stern and concerned gaze is anything to go by.
You nod, blinking back tears. It’s so nice to have a friend like James Barnes; kind, chivalrous, attentive. With the way he acts sometimes, you’d almost think he’s interested in more than friendship, but you always shake that thought off. He’s too handsome and wealthy to date some random personal assistant who’s barely able to make her rent.
“Come on, bunny,” James moves back but keeps an arm wrapped around your waist, leading you to his car and helping you in. Like always, he waits for you to sit so he can strap you in your seatbelt, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before shutting the door then running around to the driver's seat.
This time, instead of taking a left at the light at the end of your block, he keeps going forward, taking turns until you’re not exactly sure where you are.
“Um, where are we going?”
“My house,” James says casually, briefly glancing at you so he can give you that ever-soft smile.
“But, isn’t your house only twenty minutes away?” You’re confused, and a little curious as to what he’s talking about.
“I only stay there when I have meetings in the city. I have a house a little further out where I live most of the time. It’s a little more lived-in, so I want to bring you there where you’ll feel a little more…” James pauses for a moment, glancing at you again. “At home.” His explanation makes sense in your brain, quickly squashing any nerves that you had. He’s rich, so of course he’d have multiple houses.
It’s almost an hour long drive to get to his house. Well, house feels like an inappropriate term for what it actually is. It’s more like a mansion, standing tall at three stories, a long driveway with trees lining either side of the road, and a luscious garden surrounding the property.
James helps you out of the car and guides you up the steps to the front door, where he unlocks it and lets you step inside. The moment you pass through the threshold your jaw nearly drops to the floor; a large chandelier hangs from the ceiling right when you step in and beautiful artwork adorns the walls. The open floor plan gives you a good view of the living room and kitchen from your vantage point, and you can’t wait to sink into the luxurious and almost comically large couch in front of the TV.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” James urges you further in, bringing you to the living room.
“Um, just water is fine.” You look up at him, smiling shyly and nearly tripping when he smiles back.
“I’ll be right back,” James says, watching as you sit and sink into the plush couch. “Make yourself at home.” The look in his eyes when he says it sparks something inside you, something warm and fuzzy. Thinking of James’ house as your home makes your tummy flutter, but you don’t understand why.
God, you need to get it together.
You’re left alone for a moment, and everything is quiet except for the fridge opening and the glasses clinking. James’ absence allows you a moment to breathe properly, being with him always leaves you flustered, though you can’t deny that some part of you likes it. You like his commanding nature, how deep his voice gets when he talks passionately about something, how warm his embrace is when he holds you for what might be a little too long, squeezing you like he doesn’t want to let you go.
“Here you go, bunny.” Suddenly, a glass of water appears in front of you, and you take it with a gracious smile and a small “thank you.”
“So,” He says, sitting next to you — really close — and throwing his arm over your shoulders, practically pulling you into his lap. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
Tears immediately spring to your eyes, suddenly remembering how horrible today was. You force yourself to take a couple of sips of your glass but your hand starts shaking enough to where James takes your glass and sets it on the coffee table in front of you.
“Bunny—“
His soft voice causes you to start crying, throwing yourself into his chest and burying your face in his neck as you sob out your troubles. James’ hand is warm on your back, rubbing it soothingly and squeezing you close to him. This time, he actually pulls you in his lap, you’re grasping the front of his sweater while he maneuvers your body so you’re straddling his thighs, and you can’t help but scoot closer so you’re sitting on him properly with your body flush against his.
A few minutes of crying later and your tears have finally slowed, your sobs deforming into hiccups until you calm down enough to hear James cooing into your ear, whispering sweet nothings. When you finally catch your breath, you pull back, staring up at James with wide eyes and a pout.
“I-I… I was fired! Fired! And I don’t know what I’m going to do! Mr. Walker just tossed me to the side because a document went missing and he blamed me, and now I’m jobless and my roommates are definitely going to kick me out because I can barely make my rent as it is. What am I going to do?”
James sighs, rubbing one hand up and down your back and keeping his other on your waist, though they manage to sneak up your shirt a little without your notice.
“I’m sorry, bunny,” He starts, giving you a comforting smile. “It’s awful that happened to you, and it’s not your fault, so don’t go blaming yourself like I know you want to.”
Your face goes warm with embarrassment. How is he able to read you so easily?
“And as far as your living situation, you’ll move in with me.”
“James!” Your eyebrows furrow, your head automatically shaking. “No, no I can’t do that to you. I don’t have a job anymore and I definitely can’t afford to pay you rent, I-I can’t burden you like that.” Even though it hurts to say it, you want to be honest with him. Because how on Earth are you supposed to pay him back for this?
“You’re not a burden.” You’re surprised by his angry tone, and his eyes darken as though he’s challenging you to say otherwise. “You’ll never be a burden on me, bunny. I’m offering you this, I don’t want you to pay me.”
As though he can sense your hesitation, he gives you a playful smirk.
“But if you really want to help, how about you do the cooking and cleaning? I don’t always get a good home-cooked meal, and it’d be nice to come back from work to see you in a cute little apron.”
This makes you giggle, a weight lifting off your shoulders when you nod timidly. “I-I can do that. I’ll do anything.”
And while you had pure intentions with that statement, James takes it differently, his eyes darkening even further as he nibbles at his bottom lip.
“Anything?” He smirks wider when you nod eagerly because that’s what you are. Always eager to please — especially please James.
“Yes, anything!”
James hums, seemingly thinking something over, before sliding one of his hands up the back of your shirt.
“How about you give me a kiss? I haven’t had a good one in a while,” While he sounds like he’s teasing, his face shows he’s anything but.
He really wants you to kiss him. And, well, it’s not like you’re going to deny him, you’re too grateful for his generosity. Plus, you’d be insane to pass up such an opportunity, he’s handsome, kind, and makes you feel safe. So, with only a little hesitation, you lean down and press your lips against his in a simple peck, but before you can pull away James groans, placing one hand on the back of your head to keep you steady.
His lips practically attack yours, his tongue invading your mouth and taking what it wants – you. You don’t even know it but you’re whimpering almost immediately, opening your mouth and letting James consume you whole. He’s smiling against your lips, biting your bottom lip as he retreats for a moment so he can stare up into your eyes.
“You’re so beautiful, bunny,” James whispers reverently like he’s hypnotized. And he’s not the only one. Your brain is quickly going silent, your sole focus is on James and how good he’s making you feel.
“Really?”
“So beautiful, I’ve always thought so.” His confession makes you whine, he thinks you’re beautiful, this gorgeous man with the deepest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Suddenly, James curses softly, grabbing your waist under your shirt, and that’s when you realize you’ve started subconsciously moving your hips against his.
“S-Sorry,” You mumble, though you’re not too sorry considering you can’t stop rolling down onto his lap, it feels too good.
“Don’t be.” James hums thoughtfully, leaning forward slightly and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Why don’t we go to my room? It’ll be more comfortable.”
You don’t even wait for him to finish before you start eagerly nodding your head, adjusting your legs as he stands so you can wrap them around his waist. He carries you to his room, smirking to himself the entire time because you can’t stop kissing and biting his neck in the hopes of leaving a mark, staking your claim. When you finally get there, James quickly shuts the door behind him and then drops you down onto the bed.
“Sir,” You whine when he doesn’t do anything, he’s only standing at the end of the bed, staring at you with eyes so dark with lust that you can’t see the blue of them.
“Don’t worry, bunny, I’ll take good care of you.” With that, he swiftly strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side, then undoes the button on his pants, slowly dragging down the zipper with a wide smirk at the haze in your eyes. “Do you want to help me?”
It takes a few moments for you to understand what he’s asking of you, but once you do you push yourself up, shuffling over to him until you’re sitting with your legs underneath your butt. For a moment you’re not sure what to do, you reach out for his pants but freeze mid-air because you just now realize that you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. You’ve never been in this situation before, your sexual exploits consist of goodnight kisses on the few dates you’ve been on, and your vibrator in your nightstand that has been working overtime ever since you met James.
“I-I’m sorry,” You murmur, embarrassment flooding your features.
“Why are you sorry, bunny?” James’ voice is soft, soothing your worries.
“I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never… been with a man before.” Your hands fall to your lap at the same time you hang your head. What if you disappoint him? You don’t know what you’re doing and you’d hate to mess anything up.
“I know, bunny. It’s okay.” James lifts your chin with his fore and middle fingers, guiding you to look at him again. “I’ll teach you everything.” His voice dips lower, his bottom lip getting trapped between his teeth when you smile, relieved.
“Now, I’m going to take off my pants, but I want you to take off my boxers. Okay?”
“Yes, sir,” You say quickly, eyes dropping to his crotch as he begins pulling the denim down, down, down until it pools on the floor. He steps out of them, then steps in front of you with his arms hanging by his side. When he raises his eyebrow, nodding to his underwear, you reach out for him again, this time with only a small amount of hesitation. Your nerves are nearly off the charts, but knowing that James is going to guide you makes you feel better.
Your hands are shaking slightly when you pull them down, and absolutely no one can fault you for the loud gasp you let out when he’s finally bare because holy shit. Despite being relatively anxious and naive surrounding sex, you’ve watched your fair share of porn, and while the men in them did usually have big dicks, they seem small compared to James’.
You’re almost frightened, how the hell is that going to fit inside you? James chuckles, and you realize you probably said that aloud.
“Don’t worry, bunny. I’ll make it fit,” James groans, reaching down to grab the bottom of your shirt. “I’m going to take this off now, okay?” He tugs it up and over your head once you give your consent, tossing it to the side and cursing when he sees the light pink bra barely covering your breasts. James is biting his lip so hard you’re worried he might draw blood, but you don’t pay it any mind because he’s soon urging you to lay on your back with your legs dangling over the edge.
“Gonna take these off too.”
Giving him a shy smile and a nod, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants, glancing up at you one final time to make sure you’re okay before he surprises you by pulling them off of your legs in one swift movement. You’re tugged down the bed a little, a shocked gasp leaving your lips.
“Fucking angelic,” James murmurs, dropping to his knees and placing his large, rough hands on your knees. He smirks when he sees your matching light pink panties, already soaking wet at the crotch. You have to bite your lip to keep from whimpering when he pushes your legs wide apart, but you can’t stop yourself from squirming when he doesn’t do anything else.
“James,” You whine, high-pitched and needy.
“Sir,” He reminds you with a raised eyebrow as though he’s daring you to say his real name again. And just for good measure, he surprises you by lifting up one of his hands and swinging it down onto your clothed pussy in a harsh swat, causing you to let out a loud moan.
“Sir! I-I’m sorry, sir.”
“It’s okay, little bunny,” James coos as he runs his hands up the back of your thighs so he can push them up and out, letting him get a good look at where you need him most. “Are you going to let me eat your pretty pussy?”
Even though it’s phrased as a question, you know James isn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. It’s not like you even want to tell him ‘no’, you’re too desperate for something, anything.
“Y-Yes, sir. Please.” Your begging makes him groan, and he quickly dips forward so he’s not even an inch away from your core, inhaling deeply and cursing again.
With a quick kiss to your covered clit, he twists his fingers into the band of your panties and rips them into pieces, and you know you’ll have marks from it. But you want them, you want evidence of this night, and you’ll gladly take anything he gives you. And no sooner than your panties off do James dive in, inhaling once more before his tongue sneaks out and licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit.
It’s at that point that you know you’re well and truly fucked, because there’s no way you’re not going to become addicted to the feeling of his tongue dipping into your quivering hole, the way he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks it into his mouth, the way he groans into your pussy like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
And it doesn’t take long for your legs to start shaking, desperately trying to close around James’ head but not being able to due to his hands gripping your thighs and holding them still. The filthy groans he lets out are enough to make you cum alone, but then he attaches his lips to your clit again and gently bites down, forcing an obscene moan out of your mouth.
He lets you get used to the pleasure, switching between fucking his tongue deep inside you and flicking at your clit, and only when he decides you’re ready does he manage to slide his forefinger in your pussy all the way to the third knuckle.
“Sir!” You can’t help but yell. Yes, it stings, but it’s far outweighed by the pleasure of his tongue assaulting your pulsating nub.
He wastes no time in slowly sliding it in and out, wiggling it around until you whine loudly, letting him know he’s found that special spot. You’re too out of it to realize it but James is smiling, clearly smug at how he’s making you react. You wouldn’t care anyway, in fact, he deserves it. He’s making you feel too good, especially when he slips in his middle finger and spreads them.
“Oh god! Yes, fuck. Sir, yes,” You’re incoherent, blabbering nonsense because your brain is too foggy to form a coherent thought. James picks up the pace, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking it as he thrusts his fingers directly at your g-spot.
“Sir! Sir, I-I’m…” As soon as he started, he stopped, pulling out his fingers and leaning back slightly with a wide grin. His chin is coated in your juices, and the gleam in his eyes shows you that you’re not going to be able to cum so easily.
“Not yet, bunny,” James says when you whine pathetically, trying to buck your hips up into his mouth but unable to do so because of his commanding grip now holding your waist. “I’m not letting you cum until I’m inside you.”
James then climbs onto the bed, guiding you upwards to lay your head against the plush pillows so he can lean over your body. With little preamble, he snakes his arms around your back to quickly unclasp your bra and allow your breasts to spill free.
“I can’t wait to watch these bounce,” James groans, palming one of them, twisting and pinching at your nipple. James just laughs when you hiss, because your soaked pussy is enough to tell him that you’re loving what he’s doing.
“Bunny.” He says gruffly, and your eyes shoot up to meet his, though you can hardly see him because your vision is hazy, nothing matters except James. “Are you ready?”
You’re barely able to mumble ‘yes’, but you manage to do so, and James takes that as his cue to grasp the base of his cock and position it at your entrance. He places his other hand on your neck, lightly squeezing the sides to keep your eyes locked on his.
The pressure against your hole is immense, James telling you to breathe as he slowly pushes deeper. He stops about halfway through, giving you a moment for the pain to fade. He’s clearly having a hard time staying still but is cognizant enough to know you’re overwhelmed. It takes a few minutes of deep breathing before you finally nod, silently letting him know that he can move. And he does, pushing in all the way until his hips are flush with yours. Once again, he stills, leaning down to brush his lips over your cheeks and catch the tears spilling from the corners of your eyes.
“H-Hurts, sir,” You whimper out, forcing yourself to keep eye contact with him. And while your core is burning, James looks so damn proud that you’re taking him that it pushes away any discomfort.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No!” Even though you’re in mild pain you’re pretty sure you’ll cry if he pulls out, you need everything he can give you. “Please, don’t stop.”
“Don’t worry, bunny,” James coos, then tightens his grip around your neck ever so slightly. “I’ll give you what you need.” And as though a switch was flipped, James pulls back, pausing for half a second before thrusting forward.
“Ahhh!” Your mouth drops open as you scream, your arms coming up to claw at James’ shoulders and back as he gives you all he has.
And he has a lot to give. He puts his back into fucking you, keeping one hand around your neck and using his other arm to pull your left leg over his shoulder. Sweat beads at your hairline, your eyes stinging with tears, your whole body lit on fire. At this moment, nothing matters except the delicious burn between your legs, the way your body is shoved further up the bed with each of James’ powerful thrusts until it gets to the point where he has to place the hand around your leg on the headboard to steady you.
“Fuck, bunny, you feel so good. You’re so good for me.” James can’t stop mumbling praises, and even though you can’t really hear them, you feel them. Your eyes don’t move from his, even as he glances down to where your bodies are joined. “Fuck, little bunny. Your pussy looks so good stuffed full of my cock, knew you’d take me so well.”
“S-Sir,” You whimper, bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts and digging your nails into his skin. But James doesn’t seem to mind if the way his whole body shudders and his hips slightly lose their rhythm is anything to go by.
“Are you gonna be a good little bunny and cum for me?” James moves his gaze back up to your face, chuckling when he sees how fucked-out you already are. Despite his hand still around your neck you manage to nod, little cries and whines escaping into the air every time James’ cock gets shoved against your cervix.
“Yeah, you are,” James continues, leaning over your body even more and shifting so the tip of his dick hits your spot with every thrust. “You’re going to squirt all over my cock so I can cum deep in your cunt. Gonna cum in you every day, keep you full of me, maybe even plug you up to make sure it sticks.”
You’re right there, your pleasure climbing higher and higher until you’re ready to fall off the edge. James’s next sentence sends you there.
“Fuck, bunny. You’re going to be the perfect little mommy to all the children I’m gonna give you.”
When you wake up, James will tell you about how you came so hard that you blacked out, squirting and gushing around his cock while he continued telling you how even more beautiful you’ll be when you’re pregnant, taking care of him and his home, how he knew you were the one for him from the moment he first saw you. Your things will already be moved into his house. New clothes chosen specifically for you will be hung up in his closet and the bathroom will be adjusted to fit your products. The kitchen is going to be filled with all the food you like. And your cat will be curled up in a miniature hammock in her very own room.
When you wake up, you’ll see how much thought James put into redecorating his home just for you.
And you’ll be too grateful for his kindness to question where he put your birth control.
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NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 2 — JJK (m.)
in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
CHAPTER WORD COUNT 22.5k
CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, lovely hot nerdy jk ): (i think i speak for all women when i say that nerdy jungkook is the best jungkook say I IF U AGREE),[explicit sexual content: masturbation (f)], has the budding romance finally hit the second towers? read more to find out
NOTES hey everyone thank you so much for the overwhelming support on this silly little fic. i hope you guys enjoy this update and let me know your thoughts in the replies/reblog section and in my inbox, wherever you prefer hehe <3
NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN
READ ON WATTPAD | AO3
PART ONE | TWO | THREE
You usually finish prepping for the office at around 7:40 am, just enough time left to walk to the station and catch your bus at exactly 8 am.
As of now, it's 7 but the clock's longer hand has moved past the 40-minute mark, and you are still in your living room, supposedly all done and ready to go – except that you're stuck on the floor looking at your laptop perched on your coffee table, staring at it blankly, the HR email looking right back at you; almost daunting.
Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this event is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this meeting is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department
You've been reading it over and over again you're sure you can recite it with ease if prompted. It's in the hopes that the name Jeon Jungkook will suddenly disappear somewhere in the email – that maybe you missed some detail, and it doesn't actually mention his name at all. You read the email repeatedly wishing that it is just a glitch in the system and what you found out about yesterday are all just a part of your extreme delusion. Maybe it's one of those nights with Jimin at his apartment where you would indulge in a little bit of guilty pressure – pots, to be exact – and just let it take you to a whole new world.
But you and Jimin didn't go home together last night, and you definitely did not smoke pot. He went straight to the airport and you straight home with nothing but mixed feelings inside, and you were more than thankful that Jimin was in a bout of panic himself about not getting there on time that he didn't notice you squirming in his passenger seat.
There is a vague memory in your head with him telling you he was going to come with Namjoon, but you can't be for sure. Everything that transpired that night is all reduced down to the very moment in the comfort room when you realized the glaring information about Jungkook being three eggs in your basket: first, he's Jimin's cousin. Second, he's an executive in your company – a CTO, to be exact – and while you aren't exactly working under his department and they are all the way up ten floors above you, he's still technically your boss according to the hierarchy. The son of the CEO of the very company you are working at. Not only is he the CTO, but third he's also your neighbor. Someone you've met weeks ago whom you may have developed a growing relationship with that will now possibly be bleak in a matter of hours or days depending on if you are going to tell him or if he finds out.
That is the thing that you're currently debating with yourself about as you let your eyes glide over the unsuspecting email from HR for the nth time.
7:50 am – the clock on your screen reads.
You think about the dock pay that you're gonna get if you come to work late. At this point, you can run to the station and still catch your bus, but you have to decide in a minute for that to be possible.
Groaning, you feel defeated as you shut your laptop close and stand up from the floorboards, your eyes going over to the door across from you which earns yourself a wince.
I'm gonna get a dock pay and it will all be Jungkook's fault. That jerk.
Okay – obviously, he's far from a jerk and he has nothing to do with any of this. You just like blaming anybody.
You sigh, grabbing your bag, finally making up your mind to just go and see for yourself what today has to offer you. A little optimism, if you will. But if you manage to bump into Jungkook at that company you aren't sure if you're not going to do something embarrassing because one thing about you, you do not know how to face certain challenges in life like a matured individual – you always have to be a little overboard and overdramatic with it.
You were heading towards the door when you suddenly remember your ID.
Your ID. Funny.
As you pick it up off the coffee table, you think about how you don't really wear it on the way to work and on your way home. You don't like the feeling of the lanyard wrapping around the skin of your nape, so you've always just worn it when you're in the office where it is mandatory. Otherwise, you make sure to take it off.
Suddenly, you think about a scenario where you're the kind of employee to wear their ID all the time, and those nights where you'd go to Midday straight from work to have dinner with Jungkook would've turned out differently because then if you were to have worn your ID during one of those meetings, he would've figured out that you're working at the same company. And maybe... the conversation about his relation to Jimin would've came up.
And maybe, you won't feel so... complicated about the whole thing.
How – in the two weeks that you've spent with him – do you know too much yet so little about him? How did you ever not ask each other where you work and how did this all come to you like a landslide and now you have no way out?
God's sake, you know about his dog, and you've exchanged numbers... and yet...
Although, granted, maybe you should've asked for each other's socials? Does he have Instagram? Twitter? Maybe if you had exchanged those sooner, you would've gotten to know him more and made the connections you only recently found out.
You want so badly to reach out to Jimin to talk to him about all of this. But he hasn't really contacted you since he sent off Namjoon to the airport. Maybe he really did leave with him, and it isn't just your imagination when he said something about going there last night when you sneaked out of the party.
But deep inside... you do not really want to talk to him about any of this, at all.
It is, to simply put, awkward.
You feel ashamed for gushing about your neighbor that is apparently the same person as his cousin. Feel embarrassed about how you ogled over him to Jimin when in fact, they're related. You don't know about other people, but you know the unspoken rule about not dating your friends' relatives? Not like you're dating Jungkook, but you have a crush on him for fuck's sake. The strings do not even stop at their blood relation because it extends to your workplace as well.
You know Jimin well enough to feel confident about not getting judged by him if you were to tell him about it, and if he actually does, he will directly say it to your face as far as you're concerned. But...
It's just all too awkward to tell anyone about. You're in too deep in the sea of embarrassment and shame you cannot think of ways to get out of it.
Your head is starting to hurt, and you know it's the sign to stop thinking. So, you shut up all the voices in your head and walk towards the door ready to go out, telling yourself that whatever happened, you're going to handle everything cooly like the grown woman you are.
Stepping outside the threshold of your apartment, you're just about to turn around to lock the door on your way out when suddenly, the door across yours opens and there welcomes you the man starring in your list of problems for the day: Jeon Jungkook, your neighbor Unit 446.
"Oh, hi. Good morning—"
You turn on your heel so quickly and open the door to your apartment so fast it's almost at the speed of light, entering your apartment once again and slamming the door closed, pressing your back on it as your eyes widen; heart beating at a staccato of thug, thug, thug as you take a moment to hold your breath.
What the fuck.
How in the hell is this the first time you see each other getting ready to work? It couldn't have happened in the first week you knew him or hell, the first day?! Why must you have bumped into him like that the moment you finally knew about who he is? Everything is getting way too ridiculous. It's like the universe is telling you once again that you'll always be her middle child: unfavorable by all ends.
"Shit." You hiss, biting your lip quite harshly as you think about how you must've looked like a goddamn fool turning on him like that for no reason. Jungkook must've been weirded the hell out – and rightfully so.
You face-palm. Damn, you were just telling yourself you're gonna handle everything like a grown, matured woman.
You unconsciously walk on your tippy toes on the way to the small window on the side of the door that lets you oversee outside your door, peeking from there like a creep as you watch Jungkook, still on his porch – with his grey coat over his arm – looking down on his phone and doing something with it.
That something is apparently sending you a text.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: why did u seem like u just saw a ghost?
The message read when you open your phone at the bell of notification. You haven't even read all of it yet when another one comes in.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: am I that appalling in the mornings? Haha 🥴
On any occasion, you would've laughed and go along with the joke, but you do not know what to say to him.
You stand there doing nothing, just staring at his two consecutive messages, poorly left on read. You purse your lips as you peek from the small window again, getting a glimpse of Jungkook standing still on his porch, eyes glued to his phone. He waits for awhile, and then you see him shaking his head with a hint of... smile on his face?
And then your phone dings once again.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:53am]: good morning by the way. Get safely to work
You stare at it so hard that the next second you look at the window, he isn't there anymore.
Letting out a heavy breath, you knock your head on the door, thinking about how you missed your 8 am bus and you have to wait for 30 minutes for another one to come and most especially, how you're going to get a dock pay for being late.
It's almost as if Jungkook is running for higher office the way his face is plastered all over the LED screens inside the building, showing the announcement of his ceremony. It's taunting almost, the way it was the first thing you see when you swiped your ID for entry.
Although, you do find it funny that it's the same man you just saw in front of you when you stepped outside of your place earlier this morning.
"Sol," you call your co-worker and also your friend, sliding your swivel chair closer to her desk. "Do we really have to go to the ceremony?" You ask, seeing that everybody in the office is already setting aside the stuff on their desks to head out to the 12th floor where the announcement ceremony will be held.
Sol fixes the post-it note on her computer first before turning to you, "Of course we do."
You pout at that.
"Is Ms. Jung really gonna be mad if we don't attend?"
"You know how she has this obsession of making our department look good, so I'm assuming yes." She answers, and you slump in your seat knowing damn well she's right to think that. Sol sees your seemingly grumpy disposition and asks, "Why? You don't wanna go?"
If only she knew.
You shake your head to her question.
"I just think it's gonna be boring," you shrug, the lie rolling on your tongue seamlessly.
"Eh, at least it's less work for today. Those things run for two hours and there's free lunch so that's that."
Events like these are supposed to be advantageous for you because again, Sol is right and those things do run for about two hours meaning less workload. Also, free lunch. Who doesn't like free stuff? But then again, Jungkook is going to be there and with your luck, you're starting to think that you're going to see more of him from now on. That is just how the world works against you.
"You're right." You say, frowning becoming more and more apparent, you're sure.
Sol chuckles at you and stands up herself, fixing her dress as you follow her out of the office.
Before you could completely go out though, you stop her on her tracks.
"Hey, do you think you have a face mask I can borrow?" You say, looking hopefully at her. Sol raises her brows, obviously confused at your strange request. Clearing your throat, you pretend to cough a little in your fisted hand. "I'm feeling a little under the weather today, but I drank my meds this morning. Forgot the mask." You reason with her, adding more lies to the conversation.
"Oh, I see. Okay, I think I have it." Sol perks up at the realization and you both enter your office once again, with your co-worker digging through her desk's drawer for the mask you were asking her for.
She hands it to you as soon as she finds it and you're quick to wear it around your mouth, silently rejoicing in your head at the brilliant last-minute plan you came up with in your head in order to avoid anything with Jungkook later. Not that you expect him to do something if he, indeed, sees you – you doubt he even will, given that the hall is huge, and you are planning to sit all the way back – but the mask is just a precautionary measure so there are less chances of him recognizing you or anything crazy like that.
Together, Sol and you ride the elevator down to the 12th floor and unsurprisingly, a lot of the company's employees are already there, finding their seats, chitchats heard across the hall.
"Sol, __!" Joonhwi, one of your co-junior accountants and also a friend, calls out to you both, separating himself from the other accountants and heading to your direction. "You're sick?" He asks as soon as he sees your face covered with the mask.
"A little." You reply.
Joonhwi nods his head and then say, "I thought you girls were planning to ditch the ceremony."
"I'll do anything to not see your face but then again we work together so I have no choice." Sol snarkily remarks.
"Sol, can you please refrain from professing your love to me with all these people around?" Joonhwi retorts back, smarmy and teasing, ever the expert on how to get on Sol's nerves.
"__, can you get this khia away from me?"
You laugh at both of their exchange, shaking your head at their silly antics. You don't know if Sol is just... emotionally constipated, but damn, she sure is clueless as hell about Joonhwi's feelings. It seems like everybody from the accounting department knows except for her.
Shaking your head, you go straight to the seats available with Joonhwi and Sol sitting on opposite sides of you.
"Anyway, I heard they're appointing Mr. Jeon's son." Joonhwi suddenly say.
Now that makes you squirm.
"Really?" You utter, just to give them a reaction.
Sol looks at you weird. "I thought everybody knew that?"
"Well, there are lots of Jeons in Korea..." you tell her, earning a laugh from Joonhwi which makes Sol frown.
"A man is not allowed to laugh in my vicinity, Joonhwi, shut up," she says rolling her eyes. Her tone shifts when she speaks to you though, suddenly sounding more gossip-y as she shows you a picture on her phone. "Look at the material, though,"
You look at the photo of a man who very much has the same and exact coloring of the one and only Jeon Jungkook you know and you have to swallow the lump in your throat.
"I mean, I've always thought Mr. Jeon was a DILF but his son is – damn." She adds, zooming in on Jungkook's professional head shot.
You and Joonhwi both give her the stinky eye.
"Have some class." you tell her, earning a laugh from both of them.
"For the record, you agreed to that before." Sol points out, referring to that dinner you three had at a barbecue house awhile ago. For the record, though, you were both drunk and Joonhwi had to haul Sol's ass back to her place and call Jimin to get you to yours.
"I refuse to acknowledge anything I've ever said when I was drunk."
"Okay but is anybody getting the urge to get transferred to the IT department expeditiously?" Sol jokes, obviously swooning over Jungkook.
Joonhwi snorts. "The CTO doesn't even go there."
"Killjoy much?" Sol frowns at him. "He'd visit, though. Imagine the eye candy."
You eye her in a teasing manner, "You have enough candy on your plate, Sol." And then you subtly look over Joonhwi.
Joonhwi himself doesn't seem to expect the insinuation, but nonetheless you know that he got the message of you implying he's good-looking and if Sol is looking for that, he's just there. That is why he suddenly loses his smirk and rests his back on the seat, crossing his arms as he retires himself from the conversation, obviously dodging your teasing.
Psh. Emotionally constipated co-worker number two.
"What the hell does that mean?" Sol asks, but she can't get an answer as the ceremony begins.
"Good morning, everyone. Today marks a significant moment as we gather to appoint our interim Chief Technology Officer," The host starts the introduction, "We are here to acknowledge the pivotal role of the CTO in our company's journey to ensure continuity in our innovation efforts. It is with great pleasure that I introduce Mr. Jeon Jungkook, our interim CTO, who has been selected to step into the position."
And there is him, in his grey suit that you've seen him in earlier. He's wearing his glasses as well, the one that has the thinner frame. You notice he switches between two kinds; he wears the thick-framed one off work and the thin-framed one during work, like right now.
Jungkook smiles at the applause that reverberates all over the hall. There are LED screens that hang on both sides of the room and you can see his face clearly there. Sol gushes over how good he looks.
"Jesus, wow..." Sol whispers to herself, and you're sure she did not mean for you to hear that, so you try not to acknowledge it because deep inside, you agree with her. That's exactly your reaction when you saw him for the first time in the stairs of your apartment complex – and he didn't even clean up in his suit that time.
Jungkook stands on the podium with an easy-going smile on his face, his aura screaming confidence. He looks so sure of himself, like he's born to actually do this.
"Thank you, Mr. Park. Good day to all. I am deeply honored and humbled to accept the role of Chief Technology Officer at Blue Nexus Incorporation. As we navigate this interim period, my commitment is to uphold..."
You watch as he starts his speech, noting how well he speaks. You aren't a stranger to how people have different personalities when they are in and off work, but it's almost disorienting to see Jungkook going all professional, his voice soft but edgy at the same time, just enough for you and everyone to recognize a bit of authority in there.
He looks over the crowd, and for a brief second, you feel as if his eyes glossed over you far longer than he had other parts in the room.
But that thought dies down as quickly when he immediately goes back to speaking, and you're sure you just imagined it.
You're in the middle of your night routine when your phone suddenly dings.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:44pm]: just remembered we never really got around to that boxing machine, did we
Right. Today is Friday and you are supposed to go that boxing machine to determine if he's gonna supply your daily boba or if you're coming over to his place so he can cook you both a meal.
But that deal was made days ago when you still were clueless about his identity, and admittedly, you'd say that right now, you're doing anything to avoid him.
Scrolling through your message thread and seeing Jungkook's texts since that morning being left on read makes you feel bad. You know it isn't fair. It isn't nice to just suddenly go leave people dry like that, especially Jungkook who has been so strangely non-confronting about your sudden weird behavior.
It takes you a few minutes to give him a reply due to you erasing and retyping your message repeatedly.
You [10:47pm]: sorry ive been busy the whole day with work ):
Was what you lamely came up with. You couldn't have done better than that, to be honest with yourself.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:47pm]: I see Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:48pm]: so raincheck tonight?
You [10:48]: sorryyyy for cancellig im just feeling a little under the weather
Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:49pm]: ohhhh ok ok sorry for texting late
You [10:50pm]: asbdbsfjshf its fine!!!!!!!!
Maybe you didn't think it through, but you find yourself typing the next message and hitting send way too quickly.
You [10:51pm]: maybe tomorrow?
You're thinking about taking it back, but Jungkook has already replied.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:51pm]: ok. I'll see you tomorrow 😊
Pursing your lips, you wonder what he's doing tonight.
Is he working? Maybe some take-home paperworks? What do CTOs even do? He must be really busy... though you think it has to be otherwise since he had the time to text you.
You stand up from the chair of your vanity table, patting your hair one last time and jumping to your bed, ready to overthink some more then sleep when an idea suddenly pops up into your head the moment your eyes lay on your phone.
Making yourself comfortable on your mattress, you pick up the phone from your night stand and unlock it, your fingers making quick work of opening the Instagram app and typing jeonjungkook on the search bar.
The results show you a few accounts that resemble the username you looked up, but as you check each one, none of them seems to belong to the man you're looking for. So, you try a few varieties: jungkook, jungkookjeon, jeon... JK?... but then you're sure you've milked out the last of your brain juice trying to come up with a possible username for him but to no avail.
Jimin must be following him, you think to yourself. Since Jimin is a snob on his verified and public account and isn't following anybody there, you go straight to his private account to try and find a Jungkook in his following but again – you guessed it, failed search.
"Does he not have an IG?" you ask yourself, feeling quite exhilarated.
You think about Twitter, but remembering Jungkook's face makes you share your head in disagreement with yourself. There is no way he has Twitter. That guy looks terminally offline and doesn't have the face of someone who likes tweeting in his leisure time.
You'd say it was curiosity rather than desperation when you decided to install Facebook and hoped to see some of him there. You did have little hopes though, as you started typing his name, thinking there was no way you'd see him on the app because, who even uses Facebook nowadays except moms and dads and grandparents?
But then as you jokingly type his name and enter it on the search bar, a few tagged pictures of him show up.
The first one is posted by a Jeon Junghyun, his brother, and the picture is from 2017. Said picture is of Jungkook at the airport sitting on his luggage, and the caption reads as: good luck in college brother.
You stare at the picture, noting how young he looked in it and suddenly feel disoriented when you see his arms with no ink around them. They're so bare, and he definitely looked more lean, not like the muscly guy you know him as now. He was starting college here, so he must've been only 19 in the photo... meaning he got his tattoos in the States while he was in college or maybe even later than that?
You click on Jungkook's page, the one that his brother tagged in the photo, but all you see is the default Facebook profile picture and a locked account.
Feeling disappointed at that, you go back to his brother's page and check it out, throwing all your shame away as you look through his photos.
He must've limited his audience since the public posts are all outdated, but there are a few pictures in which Jungkook is in them, as well as other recurring people who seem to be their parents.
There's a recent family picture of them in the Eiffel Tower – uploaded in 2022 – all four of them.
As you see Mr. Jeon, the CEO of your company, with his family, it's hard not to feel... whiplashed, for the lack of better term. From the looks of it, they seem to be... close? For the record, Jimin does not have any casual pictures of him with his parents, and as far as you know, they never went out on trips together – just galas and all that socialite events. You know they are only mere pictures, not solid enough to assume what Jungkook's relationship is with his family, but you're starting to think maybe it's a good one.
That'll honestly be surprising, given that every wealthy family you know has dysfunctional relationships. Nevertheless, it will be quite... adorable if what you think is true.
"Oh my god," you say, disbelieving, as you recognize Jimin in one of Junghyun's public photos while scrolling through more.
It's an event of some sort, and how can you not spot Jimin when he looks conspicuous in his orange hair? You remember this being in your sophomore year in college, and how much Jimin actually hates that hair and wants to burn down every picture that reminds him of it.
You snort as you zoom in on Jimin, taking a screenshot of the photo, mindlessly going to your messaging app; ready to send him the photo to poke lighthearted fun, but then you realize—
"Oh, I can't do that."
Jimin will ask you where you got the photo from, and you'll have to tell him that you were cyber stalking his cousin. Then, he'll ask why you were stalking his cousin, and he will find out the very thing you don't want him to find out.
That makes you frown, quick to delete the message you were just about to send and put your phone back to your nightstand.
Well, that ruins fun.
You wish you can tell Jimin or anyone for the matter, but you currently don't feel comfortable about doing that.
Sighing, you look up at your ceiling, then forcefully close your eyes to avoid more thoughts coming into your head.
You start counting sheep until you fall asleep.
There had been a lot of times where you felt like shit about yourself. They happen way too many times that at this point, you'd lost count. It wired you to think that there must be something wrong when a day goes all too well.
But there is no beating the feeling of self-antagonism when you ditch somebody – even if it's for a valid reason.
Sure, you've ditched Jimin a couple of times, and he always makes sure to rub it on your face as much as he can until you pout at him and explain to him that there are just some days you do not feel like going out. Jimin, as your best friend, understands that about you, of course.
A lot of times, though, it's the dates you tend to ditch the most. Three dates – you recall – is the number of times you'd skipped out of, just because you had a panic attack thirty minutes before the meeting that one time and two times for the plain, simple fact that you had a realization that you did not really like the guy you were planning to see.
Shin Taemu, the guy from the IT department asked you out last month for a second date and you texted him a last-minute, half-assed lame excuse about having gotten period cramps. Up to this day, you're still wary about using the IT department's copy room because his texts, since then, have been left unanswered. You saw him awhile ago at the cafeteria, though, and he seemed to be treating you non-differently even after you ghosted him suddenly.
Recently, you're doing the same thing again to Jungkook.
It isn't dating, of course – just the whole ditching thing.
You feel terrible for canceling on him again on Saturday when you just told him Friday night that you would go to that boxing machine. He had texted you a simple "we still on?" with a smiley emoji that gave you the creeps (because that smiley emoji does not ever mean the person is smiling behind it – knowing Jungkook though, it's probably not the case, and you're just overthinking it). You've left that text to rot until Sunday morning, and only picked it up later during the night, telling him you were "sorry I just saw this now! I was swamped with work stuff" even though you've never brought paperworks at home in your whole career and you were just binging The X-Files, bashing those two idiotic emotionally constipated FBI agents when you are quite one, yourself.
Sometimes, you fear you're no better than a man. Jimin will willingly knock your head on a door to get you to your senses and tell you all the things about why you should never compare yourself to them – but there are times like these when your shortcomings – specifically your lack of proficiency in communication – mirror that of a man's, and you hate every single second of it.
Until then, you dreaded for Monday to come.
But it's ultimately inevitable
And when you wake up from your sleep, it's Monday, and you have to go to work whether you like it or not.
And oh, to add, Jungkook hasn't replied to your message. Which – okay – ouch. But you're not supposed to be hurt by it; if anything, you kind of deserve it after ditching him so many times. He isn't an idiot, and you're sure he knows you lied... you're just thankful that he's not saying anything if he does know, indeed.
You have thought things over in the shower this morning, though.
If Jungkook is three eggs in your basket, why will it matter? So, what's the big deal if he is Jimin's cousin and that he works at the same company and lives in the same apartment complex?
You finally admit that those things matter to you initially because... you have a crush on him. If you didn't, you'll give fuck-all if he's related to your best friend. You won't care at all if he's your boss because you don't have to worry about fantasizing about him.
But the thing is, you do have some sort of romantic feelings for him, and that is why those things moved you in a way that makes you feel and act a little weird around him.
And now there's this feeling of guilt that has overtaken your entire system. Because if you just see Jungkook platonically, these things won't happen. And you hate it, because he's genuinely a good friend. Someone who may want a friend in you too, but you are ruining it all because you have trivial feelings for him.
Absolutely ridiculous.
But now that those realizations have become clear in your head, you've made up your mind by thinking that those eggs don't matter.
It doesn't matter that he's Jimin's cousin, doesn't matter that he's an executive. You are his friend, and it's was okay to have friends that are your other friend's relative and friends who are your boss.
Of course, it's still awkward to think about him catching you in your home clothes but on a more serious note, your crush will never see the light of the day and even if it does, there's no way Jungkook will accept it because guys like him never settle with people like you. And you don't even mean that in a self-deprecating way, not at all! You are just fully aware of the practical world you live in and know that the vast disparity of your economic status will never work, especially with the kind of family he was born into.
With that said, you are ready for things to be back the way they were. No more pussyfooting in the office in fear that you'll bump into him, no more canceling on his innocent invitations to dinner, no more pining over him secretly and putting malice over everything that he does because you're going to be a renewed person now.
You're ready to take on the big shoes and be matured enough to address his questions if ever he has one.
So, you enter the elevator of Blue Nexus Inc. with a sort of spirit that you're sure will be hard to take down, creating pictures in your head that depict a smooth-sailing conversation with Jungkook where you're ideally going to be cool in it and not at all panic-y.
It's alright. Nothing is going to change—
Your thoughts are disrupted when somebody enters the elevator and the people in it suddenly start bowing their heads, a series of greetings reverberating in the confined space.
Fuck.
"Good morning, Mr. Jeon."
"Greetings, Mr. Jeon."
"Mr. Jeon."
Your eyes widen when you see Jungkook walking in with his black suit and sleek black hair, his eyeglasses sitting on his nose.
Okay, so nevermind the illusion that you're going to be cool now – you're absolutely panicking in your position!
Thank fucking god you're at the back with two persons in front of you, hoping they are enough to at least cover your frame as Jungkook stands in front after greeting back the employees inside.
Oh my god. Fuck me.
You tilt your head to the side with a wince on your face, sneakily raising your arm over your head to take your hairclip off so your hair fans your face. It is a poor attempt at covering yourself lest Jungkook suddenly turns around and recognizes you as a result.
But in that moment, you must look stupid as hell that the guy beside you looks at you weird.
You stand upright, giving him a tight-lipped smile. He just snubs you.
That makes you roll your eyes.
You go back to staring at Jungkook's back agonizing the thought that you really aren't ready at all to confront him. You thought about it all morning, but the moment he got here, all those ideations of you being cool around him from thereon are suddenly thrown out the building.
A few seconds after, somebody drops off at the 13th floor, and it starts to make you feel nervous.
What if more people start going out and then you'll be left alone with Jungkook? You intended to go to the 16th floor where your office is... Jungkook is – wait, where is his floor? You actually have no idea. But you are certain it's floors above you. Oh god! How can you possibly move past him without him recognizing you? Shit. You didn't think about that.
Now, you're starting to lose your bottle, your head not able to form ideas to get through him. The elevator is small! And people are starting to head out...
You look at the position indicator of the elevator, telling you that you're going way up to the 15th floor. A few seconds after and it dings, the elevator door opening. The guy in front of you heads way out, and you can see Jungkook still on his spot.
You find yourself not being able to move, completely stoned in your position.
You sure as hell aren't going out unless he does first! That's your solution. If he's located at the topmost floor, you're going to wait until then. You're just going to ride the elevator down again.
But what you don't see coming is Jungkook suddenly moving to head outside the elevator.
Looking at the indicator once again, you confirm if he really is going to the 15th floor.
The door already closed by the time Jungkook is finally out, which eases your nerves. You're way too relieved to forget thinking about why he's in the 15th floor.
You stop at the 16th with a smile on your face, feeling like you just got away with murder. You've never done it – get away with murder – but that's exactly how you feel.
On your way to the office, your phone vibrates from the pocket of your trousers.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [8:56am]: Correct me if I'm wrong but I think I just saw you at the elevator today
You thought of ways to dodge his bullet, thought about denying his claim and telling him that he must've seen somebody else because you work all the way across town and him seeing you would've been impossible.
But you know the attempts will be futile.
If anything, though, you take it as a sign to finally make things right.
Avoiding Jungkook will never be efficient. In order to be successful in that regard, you'll have to hand in your resignation or move out of your apartment completely and you can't do that.
Besides, for what it's worth, you kind of miss hanging out with him and if you were to continue hiding from him, you will have to say goodbye to having him around at all.
The moment you got off work today, you think of plans to talk to him and maybe, just maybe, invite him for dinner – to, hopefully, make up for all the times you've bailed on him.
With a tail tucked between your legs, you stand apprehensively in front of the door of his unit, still unsure about your plans but doing it nonetheless. There's no going back now.
You ring the doorbell, taking your hand back quickly as if you just got electrocuted by it.
Please don't answer. Please don't be home. Please don't answer—
And there he goes, in his plain white shirt and grey sweats, hair wet from his previous shower – you assume. He's still drying his hair with a towel when he opens the door, but his ministrations stop the moment he lays his eyes on you.
You just give him an awkward smile that probably look more like a grimace.
"Hi."
The surprise is evident on Jungkook's face. Regardless, he is quick to get over it and gives you a big grin instead. An expression you did not expect to get.
"__, hey," Jungkook greets, placing the towel around his neck and letting go of his doorknob. "What brings you here?"
You balance your weight on your other side and purse your lips in a thin line.
"Do you, uh, wanna grab dinner?" You ask right away, not wanting to beat around the bush.
Jungkook's smile somehow grows wider at your question, and you don't know what to feel. If he's petty, he'll reject your invitation but with the look on his face right now, he doesn't seem to have the intention to do so. At least you hope so. It will be so embarrassing for you to have come all the way to his place instead of just asking him through text.
He was about to answer when somebody suddenly approaches the door.
"Jeon Jungkook?" The guy asks, and you immediately shot your eyes to look at him. With his printed shirt that reads a famous food delivery brand and his hands carrying bags of what you assumed take-out food, you figure what he's here for. "Here's your order, sir."
Embarrassed, you scoot to the side to give way to the food delivery guy and let him extend the bags towards Jungkook who grabs his wallet from the pocket of his sweats to pay for the food, thanking the man in the process.
He already has plans for tonight, you realize. Your invitation to dinner is futile because he already bought take-out.
The food delivery guy gave you a look before he took off in which you returned a timid smile for. And then, you turn around to look at Jungkook again.
"Nevermind, don't answer my question." You say, referring to your invitation prior to the arrival of his food delivery. "Uhm, bye. Good night."
You were just turning your heels to go the other way around when Jungkook suddenly speaks.
"Wait, don't go yet," Jungkook steps to the side and inserts his wallet back into his pants. He raises the bags of take-out and arches his brow towards your way, "Do you like Thai?"
"I do." You reply, not really understanding where he's getting at first.
Jungkook smiles. "Good. Do you wanna come inside?"
When you realize what he just said, you shake your head, "Oh, no, no. We could grab dinner outside tomorrow if you're free."
"This is enough for two?"
He's inviting you to his place. Is he insane?
You shake your head once again. "No, Jungkook, I really don't want to impose on—"
Jungkook cut you off with a hearty laugh.
"__, you won't be imposing. Come on, I bet you haven't had dinner yet either." When you don't answer, he insists again, "I think I have Thai tea around here somewhere."
You narrow your eyes at him.
"You think I'll go inside just 'cause you have Thai tea?" you say, raising your brow at him, challenging Jungkook to say something to that. He shrugs with a smile of amusement. Then you break your demeanor and sigh. "You're actually right. I can probably be bribed with daily boba supply."
Jungkook laughs at your absurd claim.
"No matter what's on the line?"
"Yeah," Then you decide to joke a little, "If you're the one on the line."
His laughter only becomes louder, and you shake your head at him because you genuinely wonder why he laughs so much at your nonsensical jokes. You would consider yourself funny but not that funny.
But this is good. Joking is good. This dynamic is surely better than you avoiding him.
"You're so..." Jungkook stops to look at you and you stare back at him. That moment stretches into a minute until you feel the hair on your nape stand.
It's the night air, and not at all the almost intimate way he looked into your eyes.
That's what you'll tell yourself tonight.
"I'm so what?" You decide to break the silence, seemingly snapping Jungkook out of the trance he's put himself in awhile ago.
He shakes his head. "Nothing."
"Okay, now you're just making me curious."
"It's nothing."
"Okay, I'm gonna let it pass this time..." you say, eliciting a low chuckle from him.
He must realize that you've both been standing on his porch for a while now.
"Come," he says, gesturing inside his place.
Your steps are a bit hesitant as you follow him inside. But nonetheless, you both get in, Jungkook offering you a pair of home slipper that are almost twice as big as your feet as he locks the door.
When you let your eyes wander, you're more than surprised to see the state of the interior.
Jungkook's place is surprisingly... clean.
Sure, it must be because there aren't any decorations or much furniture yet, but from your experiences with men, the one thing they have in common is that they are messy. It's almost impossible to not see clothes strewn all over their places or food wrappings on any surface at a corner, but Jungkook's is spotless.
Except maybe for the few boxes that stand beside the door of the room all the way across the room which you assume is his bedroom, but other than that, there's no indicator that a man is residing inside. Admittedly, it's even cleaner than your own.
"Sorry, it's a little messy. I haven't unpacked all of my stuff. Got busy."
He seems to notice you eyeing the aforementioned boxes, and hearing his words, you shake your head.
"Oh, no, trust me. This is the cleanest place I've ever seen." You say truthfully.
"Thanks." Jungkook responds with a smile.
His apartment, like yours, has an open layout so from where you are in the living room, you can see him putting the bags on the kitchen counter, unloading them and starting to transfer some of them into his own plates.
You approach his direction to find yourself useful.
"Is it okay if we eat at the coffee table? My table set hasn't arrived yet..." he rubbs the back of his head, a sheepish smile painting his face.
"It's fine."
His coffee table is wide enough for all the food to fit, anyway. That's what you thought when you bring all the food to the living room, sitting on the floorboards opposite of him.
Before you start dinner, Jungkook asks if you want to watch something on the TV.
"It's like a jumbotron." Is your throw-away comment when he turns on his huge ass TV. It's genuinely so big you aren't even exaggerating. You are not that good with estimation but the screen is probably the same height as you...
"What?" Jungkook chuckles, looking at you all confused.
"Nothing. Just that your TV is so big."
"Yeah? I wanted to buy this one for so long and I got really lucky to get it on sale here. I have the Criterion channel so I've been wanting to watch stuff with an OLED screen—" he cuts himself off and looks at you with a hint of embarrassment. "Sorry."
You look away before you can go on a spiral about how cute he looked with a proud smile on his face while he was going off about how he got his jumbotron on sale. He was geeking out about a freaking TV. But you guess it makes sense for a tech guy like him.
"Uh, what do you want to watch?" He asks, going through his streaming services.
The big TV and the streaming services just click so much in the context of him. You, in contrast, cannot relate. After forgetting to unsubscribe to Netflix a few months ago, it automatically stole the thirteen thousand won from your account, and since then, you're more than traumatized to pay for any streaming services until today. Pirating is bad but so is capitalism.
"Anything is fine."
"Okay."
You really couldn't have cared less about what he's going to click on, but National Geographic pops up on his big screen and you think he must be joking but he starts tuning in with genuine interest.
Oh. Wow.
He's just a big nerd trapped in a hot human body, huh?
How cute. And how unbelievably hot to discover this about him.
After a few minutes into the documentary, it turns out that whales are interesting to a certain degree. Sure, Jungkook's huge ass screen made it a little funny because the pictures are too big, but they did pique your interest a little, especially when Jungkook would add in a little of his own knowledge about them. When you asked him about the weird little stick thing on their mouth, he told you that they were tusks and only male narwhals had them, and that they used it as some sort of sensory tool. He admitted he hyperfixated on whales for a while when he saw them first on Discovery Channel as a kid.
You didn't even have to pretend to be engrossed, you were just in genuine awe of his interests and how enthusiastic he was about sharing them.
Food is starting to run out, making you realize that it's been awhile since you've eaten Thai food and you should probably eat them once again tomorrow.
You're just about to ask Jungkook which restaurant he got it from when he beats you to speaking first.
"You're still in your work clothes."
You stop.
"Yeah..."
And then you're reminded of why you're here in the first place.
It isn't for the whales or for Thai food, that's for sure.
You haven't changed out of your work clothes, indeed, since you planned going out for dinner in hopes of talking to Jungkook while ago. The night is going so well so far that you actually forgot about that. But then since he already cocked the gun, might as well just pull the trigger and get it over with.
You look at him, an uneasy feeling settling in your nerves.
"So... about your text earlier."
There is a hint of a smile on Jungkook's lips when he nods his head.
"Yeah?"
"It wasn't me." You say, trying to look for a reaction, trying to see if he'll insist or anything.
But Jungkook just nods his head again.
"I see."
He does not seem to see, though, and you know right then and there that your cover is finally and officially blown.
"Okay, I lied. That was me." You take back your words, jutting your bottom lip out when you add, "Turns out we work at the same company. And that you're apparently my boss."
"And you're my cousin's girlfriend."
You gasp audibly.
So he knows you were at that party! How? And what? He thought you were Jimin's girlfriend for real? Wait, does he not know it was all Jimin's ruse?
"How did you know that?"
"They mentioned Jimin's girlfriend was in the bathroom when I arrived. I asked Jimin about it and he told me her name was __."
You would face-palm yourself if Jungkook wasn't present.
Ugh. Of course, Jimin doesn't know.
"Well, okay, just so you know, I was a paid actress." You tell Jungkook, which earns you a laugh from him. Then you cover your mouth, realizing you shouldn't have said that. "Oh—uhm, do you know...?" You trail off, looking at him expectantly and hoping he knows what you meant.
You swear you remember Jimin telling you that Jungkook knows about him being gay, but now you are second-guessing yourself and you will be in trouble if you did slip up.
Thankfully, Jungkook nods, seemingly understanding where you're getting at.
"Don't worry, I know." You heave a sigh of relief at his verbal confirmation. Jungkook takes the tom yum goong and started peeling the shrimp from the bowl, continuing to say, "And Jimin brings a fake date to every family gathering, so I knew right away he was lying about dating somebody," Jungkook chuckles, and as if an afterthought, he adds, "I wish I could've seen you act. You two left so early."
Well... you did play a role in that, you think. But you can't tell him you purposefully didn't go back to the table that night because you saw him.
"Oh, Jimin had to send Joon off at the airport." You say, which is actually true. For a change.
He nods. "His boyfriend, yeah... did he go to Italy with him?"
You wonder how he knows about the Italy thing. Jimin, probably. They're close after all—
"Namjoon's a close friend as well." Jungkook adds, as if having read your thoughts.
"Ah," you nod, not surprised at all about their apparent link.
Wealthy people do have a tiny world.
"Jimin hasn't actually contacted me yet since that night."
It has been a few days, and you're starting to think he's dead or something. Your calls go straight to voicemail and your messages do not send. You've sent him a few on social media as well but it seems like he hasn't been online at all.
"I'm worried about him. Has Namjoon said anything?" You look at Jungkook, hoping he'll say yes.
But he shakes his head instead.
"I wouldn't be worried, though. I think they're together."
"In Italy?"
"Yeah."
You won't be surprised if that's the case. Jimin is the king of spontaneity and if he did fly off to another country abruptly with his boyfriend, you won't question it.
You do miss him though and you're gonna make sure to make him feel bad for not telling you anything soon.
"You're right." You sigh.
Jungkook has been peeling shrimp for awhile now, setting them aside in a small bowl. You think he's gonna eat it himself, but you're surprised when he slides off the bowl to your direction.
"There. I noticed you weren't eating the tom yum. You don't like it?" Jungkook asks, smiling at you.
You can't help it; blood rushes to your cheeks at the realization that he just peeled shrimps for you.
Is this normal for him? Like, does he just go around and do things like these for friends?
You will scream in your bathroom later when you get home.
"Oh, no, uh... I'm actually allergic to shrimp." You give him a tight-lipped smile.
You feel bad at the way Jungkook's expression drops as soon as you said that.
"Shit, sorry, I didn't know," He takes the small bowl quickly and looks at you apologetically.
"No, it's fine! I didn't tell you either."
"I'm really sorry. I should've asked first."
"Jungkook," you chuckle. "It's fine. Thank you, anyway."
"I could've done serious damage to you, huh?"
"Yeah, you'd have to tell Jimin you killed me because you fed me shrimp."
"Don't say that," Jungkook laughs. "How long are you friends now, by the way?"
You nip on your chopsticks, answering him.
"We've been friends since college... so almost ten years."
"That's really nice."
And then you remember to ask, "Did you tell him?"
"What?"
"That you know me?"
"No. Not yet, at least. Didn't have the chance." Jungkook proceeds to eat the shrimp himself and you have to keep yourself from letting out a breath of relief at his answer. "Did you tell him?"
"No. Uh— I know this is weird. But... can you not tell him?" You ask. Jungkook looks at you for a bit, studying your face. You clear your throat when seconds passed and he still hasn't said anything. "It's just that I want to tell him on my own time." You decide to add.
"Okay." He says after a while, smiling.
Thank god he doesn't ask any more questions.
"Thanks."
And now there's another elephant in the room that you still need to address.
A bit hesitant, you open with, "Did you uhm..." You think about how to word it, but then you think, fuck it. "Did you know by that time at the party that I work at Blue Nexus?"
Jungkook shakes his head.
"No, I saw you at the company and only put two and two together."
Your brows furrow. "When?"
"Uh... earlier this morning."
"Oh. Yeah..."
You don't know exactly why, but you feel a tinge of disappointment that he meant earlier. You really thought he recognized you at the ceremony.
But then you shake the feeling off and jokingly narrow your eyes at him. "Why didn't you tell me about the party, then?"
"Why, did you see me there?"
You shut your mouth. Right. You're supposed to pretend you didn't seen him that time.
"No." You lie.
"So I thought it didn't matter... though I was pretty surprised when I saw you today."
"Ugh, I thought I hid myself pretty well." You lament dramatically, embarrassed that you really thought covering your face with your hair would do you any good.
"Nah," Jungkook shakes his head while laughing at your misery, "I thought, "who is this five-foot woman hiding in the back","
"Wow." You gasp, not believing his audacity. But you're also thankful that he makes talking to him so easy. The way your conversations goes from funny to serious is so seamless, all because Jungkook knows exactly how to turn the wheels around.
"Kidding. I actually recognized you by your blouse..." he gestures at your baby blue polo sleeves, making you furrow your brows, not quite sure how he meant. But then, he continues, "Did the ink ever come off?"
Oh. Right! He had seen you wear the blouse before and even heard you tell him the story about how the jammed printer caused a blot of ink to stain your cuff.
You're surprised he even remembers that. It seems so long ago.
Raising your arm to examine the cuff area of your blouse, you look at it with small amusement.
"Yeah, it did, actually."
"How did you do it?"
You deadpan, "You're not asking me how I do my laundry, Jungkook."
"Hey, I love doing laundry," You raise your brow, not believing him, but Jungkook insists. "No, I really do."
"Okay." You nod, chuckling because he really seems way too eager to prove to you that he loves doing laundry.
What you've found out about him so far is so... mesmerizing, to say the least. With how he looks like – you meant, the tattoos and the body – you would most likely assume he likes guy stuff. You know, big macho man stuff like that. But turns out, he's just a guy who likes big TVs and NatGeo and... laundry.
He's such a fascinating person.
"I'm also not your boss." Jungkook suddenly says, making you look up at him.
"Well, you're CTO, you technically are." You point out.
"Technically, yes. But I don't oversee the accounting department, so you're not really working for me, which means I'm not your boss."
The mental gymnastics make you frown but you get his point.
"Okay, that's true. But still... your father is Mr. Jeon."
"Would you believe me if I denied that?" He jokes, the tilt in his voice telling you he is.
"You kind of look the same, so I probably wouldn't believe you."
"Really? A lot of people say I look more like my mother..."
You've seen the pictures. It's more of a split, really. But you can't tell him that obviously.
Silence sits in his living room for a while, the NatGeo narrator serving as background noise at this point.
You drop your chopsticks down and sigh. Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows, worried about your sudden seriousness.
"So, you're not like weirded out about this whole thing?" You ask him straight to the point.
Joking is good, as you said. And this night is going better than you thought. But it feels like you are just glossing over the facts, and you need to address it with him lest it becomes a problem in the future. You don't know how exactly they are going to be; you just have a feeling in your heart that they are going to.
"The what?" Jungkook says, looking genuinely confused, as if he doesn't know what your deal is.
"The I'm-your-cousin's-best-friend? And the fact that you're an executive at the company I work at and we live in the same building?" You lay out, sounding exasperated now that you're taking it all out.
Jungkook stares at you for a bit.
"Why would that weird me out?"
He isn't being dense, you can see that. He's just plain confused.
You sigh once again. Seems like you've been doing a lot of that these past few days.
"Because it's just... too many eggs in the basket."
Jungkook chuckles, wiping his hands with a tissue. "Isn't it good you have many eggs in the basket?"
You glare at him, and it makes him raise his hands as a peace offering.
"It's bad because..."
"... because?" Jungkook, now with his hands clean, props an elbow on the coffee table, looking right into your eyes as he leans closer to your direction.
You look away.
"Because it means I can't hang out with you anymore."
When you look at him again, the smile is wiped off his face, suddenly exchanged with a frown.
"Why?"
"Because again, it's too many eggs in the basket and—" Running out with metaphors, you say the first thing that was off the top of your head, "That makes you my uncle."
Jungkook's jaw drops a bit.
"Your thought process really amazes me."
You grimace, already expecting that. "Thanks, I get that a lot."
"No, it's really... interesting."
He doesn't look judgmental at all, just full of genuine awe, but you're eager to come to your own defense and so you say, "You don't get it? It's like—" You fling your hands around, trying to explain what you just said. "You don't have a close relationship with your uncle, right? 'Cause it's awkward. When you're with them it's like being with your boss, which means you can't be friends with them 'cause, again, it's awkward."
Jungkook still looks like he doesn't know what the hell you're talking about, but he nods his head, nonetheless.
"Okay... but I have a very close relationship with the CEO..."
You pout. "That's not what I meant."
And when he chuckles at that, you know he's fucking with you and understand exactly what you were trying to say; fooling around as if you aren't having an internal crisis.
Jungkook must've seen how you're genuinely not finding anything funny and stops.
"Is that why you've been avoiding me the past few days?" He raises his brow, but his voice is gentle as he speaks.
You didn't think he'd confront you about that, but you decide to look away when you try to lie as an answer.
"No...?"
Jungkook only chuckle at your indignation.
"Okay, okay, let's divide and conquer, yeah?" He smiles at you. Warm and soft. "First, you're Jimin's best friend, what's the issue? It just means you must be a good person to hang around with because you're friends with the person I'm close to. Second, I'm not your boss, will you please stop saying that? And third, we're neighbors... so what? We just happened to rent in the same building. No big deal."
Your frown just gets deeper at what he said because... he's right. So right.
You overreacted the whole time you tried to hide from him.
With nothing else to add, you weakly ask, "Okay but... can you fire me?"
In your head, it's a relevant question. You don't know how the chain of command worked at the company. He's an executive which probably means he has firing rights, right? What if he finds you too rude towards him over the past few days that he wants to take your job away from you? Can he fire you because of personal vendetta?
"Asking the important question?" Jungkook teases.
"Damn straight, I am. I mean, I did complain to you about my job before, and it turns out you're one of the executives at the company."
"I can see the wheels in your head turning but sorry to say I'm not actually an official executive. I'm just an interim CTO. And no, I don't have the right to fire you," Jungkook chuckles, seemingly amused at your thoughts. "And you can complain to me about your job all you want."
You send him a suspicious look.
"No, thank you."
"Seriously?" He asks incredulously. "Interim CTO or Jimin's cousin or not, I'm still Jeon Jungkook. Just your plain ol' neighbor."
"You say that but what if I arrive to my desk tomorrow with my things packed because you told Ms. Jung all the things I told you about her?" You squint your eyes at him.
"God, you're unbelievable." Jungkook says in between his laughter.
"Okay, but I wanna ask you something." You say. Jungkook hums. "I'm curious... why here?"
It isn't like your apartment complex is abominable or anything of the sort. When you were still on the look-out of apartments five years ago, here was the only decent one that did not cause you a 3-month pay. It's why you chose it in the first place. The unit is big enough for yourself and it's located at the center of the city, which means that it's near establishments that are relevant to your daily living. The bus station is also just a few minutes walk, and it only takes you an hour commute to get to your company building. It was the best out of all your choices back then.
However, for a guy like Jungkook, you wonder why he isn't at the big shot complexes like in Cheongdam or Hannam. You don't doubt he can afford those.
But Jungkook surprises you with his answer.
"It's cheaper."
You can't help but raise your brow.
"What?" And then as if realizing your look, Jungkook chuckles. "Oh, I see... you think I'm, like, rich?"
You shrug.
Jungkook answer with a simple, "My parents are loaded. And anyway, it's near the company. I also really like it here so far. Hannam felt like prison when I stayed there in my first week. Guards were way too strict."
Nodding, you recall Jimin's stories about that gated community when he himself stayed there for merely three months. It makes sense for it to almost seem like prison, though, given that most people who live there are high profile.
"I commute on my way to work. What about you?"
"I bought a parking spot nearby; it's surprisingly cheap compared to America."
You wouldn't know because you've never had a car in your life. First of all, you refuse to apply for a driving license because you're sure you'll kill yourself on the road. Besides, cars are expensive. You'll stick to your buses and trains all your life even though commuting sucks ass sometimes.
But you nod at Jungkook's words.
Soon, you both engage in more conversation about yourselves until you notice the time.
"It's getting late, I should go. I have work tomorrow." You tell him with a pout, genuinely disappointed about having to go.
Jungkook looks over at the clock hanging on his wall and then turns to you, "We have work tomorrow, you mean."
You blush at that for no reason.
"Well..."
"Okay, I'll walk you to your place."
"What?" You laugh. "That's ridiculous."
"What's ridiculous about it? You're so short, the crickets might attack you." Jungkook says with a serious face.
That makes you frown instantly.
"Ugh, you've got to stop saying that. I'm starting to dislike you."
"Hmm."
Jungkook indeed followed you on your way out, though, but not without you insisting that he didn't need to walk you to your door because it was literally just across his, but Jungkook was persistent and you had no choice but to walk the five steps it took to get in front of your apartment from his own.
He's still laughing when your face is still contorted into an unpleasant expression.
"Okay, good night." You say. You point to his chest absent-mindedly, but you quickly take it back when you feel how hard it is. "A-and stop calling me short, I'm not. The __ karma is real, I have Jimin to prove that."
"Fine, I'll stop." Jungkook smiles, watching as you enter your threshold.
"Good."
You stand on your door, leaning over the frame and not closing it just yet.
Jungkook gives you a heart-warming smile before he says, "See you tomorrow."
And he speaks the words so gently that you feel your cheeks heating once again.
"S-see you as well."
"You look banging in that polo shirt." Jimin says, obviously chatting you up because the moment you accepted his call earlier this morning, you did not hesitate to tell him off about going MIA on you so suddenly.
"It's literally just a plain white polo."
"Okay, and you still look good in it, so..." He shrugs, but you can see the look on his face, sheepish and apologetic.
You scoff.
"You can't compliment me out of sulking. I'm mad at you."
There's a pout that forms on his lips quickly; a tactic so predictable you almost roll your eyes.
"I know... but I told you! Joon and I spent the last week—"
"Fucking each other to Sunday and back, blah blah blah. Still, you could've told me you went to Italy, you slut."
Jimin lets out a loud laugh at your blunt words.
"Slut shaming in the big year of 2028? I thought you were better than that." He shakes his head, pretending to be pointed and curt with the bitchy look on his face. But you know he's just teasing to get you out of your own bitchy mode as well.
It works every time.
You don't fight the way your eyes roll on their own accord as a response this time. Jimin compromises, "Okay, I'm sorry! For not telling. It's just that I've turned off my phone for the past week because I'm sure dad and his secretary are going to blow up my phone— they are, by the way, so cut me some slack."
Forgiveness comes easy when you take into consideration what he's been through for the past few weeks. The spontaneous trip to Italy and him flying along with his boyfriend may come off as immature, but you know deep inside he's just wanting to get away from the reality of his life: which is pretty much toxic family with incredibly high expectations and boring ass management school.
You are certain they are giving him shit, and you don't need to add more to that.
It's 7:20 and you're currently prepping for work. Privacy is almost moot in your friendship with Jimin, so you're quite literally dressing up in front of him on call, sweeping your hair to the side as you pull up your trousers.
"Okay... are you having fun there?" You ask instead.
Jimin smiles a knowing grin. "Babe, I just told you me and my boyfriend are having sex 24/7 in here, I'm having the most fun in my life."
You button your trousers and groan at his words.
"I wish I was also in Italy."
"I mean, you could."
You give him a look.
"And what? Third wheel you and Joon? No thanks."
Jimin just shrugs, the angle of his camera going shaky for a bit as he moves to lay on what you assume is his bed.
"I don't know, girl, maybe you'll find a nice Italian man here."
That earns him a snort from you while you duck to wear your sandals.
"I've long forgotten that fantasy since I was 19."
"You're not a stranger to relapsing..." Jimin clocks and that makes you shoot up straight so he can see the look of incredulity on your face as an immediate reaction to what he just said.
"Rude!"
Jimin just snorts. "Okay but for real, how are things going over there for you?"
You sigh. "Same old, same old. Pretty and single and working a very boring job."
Your best friend can't help but mirror the wince on your face.
"You could change the last two but never the first one, babe. So, you see, you're still miles ahead." He says as a matter of fact, sounding like he's giving out some sort of motivational speech.
"Lucky me," you noted with a straight face. You start rummaging your bag to see if you got everything you need. Then, there's something at the tip of your tongue. Something you've been wanting to open up to him. So, you start by clearing your throat – subtly, you hope.
"But you know, life's pretty... eventful the past few days."
Jimin quirks his eyebrow at that, obviously catching onto what could possibly be a new news.
You bite your lower lip, nibbling on it slightly as you contemplate whether to tell him about what you've been up to.
For some weird reason, you still haven't told him about Jungkook, and it seems like Jungkook has made good on his promise not to tell your best friend because if he did break it, Jimin would be inquiring you all about it now.
You figure now is sort of the perfect time to... maybe tell him.
"Uh, well... not eventful, per se, just a little..." you trailed off, finding a bit of uncertainty in your voice. You see Jimin's face morphing into more of a confused look rather than intrigued as the second passes. Pursing your lips into a thin line, you finish your previous sentence with, "Just a little different, I guess."
"Don't edge me, I swear to god." Jimin threatens playfully, making you chuckle.
"It's not something groundbreaking, okay? It's just the, uh, do you still remember Mr—"
The yawn that Jimin lets out stops you from completing your words, and you remember him mentioning a while ago that it's currently midnight from where he is.
"Ugh," Jimin groans, "Sorry, I slept so late yesterday. Anyway, go on, what were you saying?"
The uncertainty you felt a while ago increases, and you decide that maybe, now is so not the perfect time to bring up Jungkook, his cousin.
So, you shake your head, smiling at him, packing the words of your confession in a box that that you place at the back of your head, ready for unpacking when the time calls for it – which you don't exactly know when.
"Nah, go to sleep. This conversation can wait."
"You're gonna kill me with curiosity."
Rolling your eyes, you make a gesture of shoving him.
"I have to catch up with my bus soon, anyway." You say, dodging his insistence.
"Just tell me pretty please, I won't be able to sleep!" He dramatically says.
You roll your eyes again at the theatrics.
"It's really nothing big."
Well, it is. Sort of. Or maybe it's not, and you're just doing that thing again where you put too much thought over something inconsequential.
You swear you were ready to tell him about Jungkook, having even hyped yourself in the bathroom a few days ago and practicing what you're going to tell Jimin. But as of this moment, right now, it suddenly feels... unimportant. Not in a negative way. Just in a... does-it-really-matter way.
Jimin will find out eventually. But not now when you're not totally ready.
"I know what this is," Jimin suddenly says. At his suspicious tone, your heart starts to pick up the rate of its beat. You can see the way Jimin squints his eyes at you, and you wish he doesn't see the way you're slightly frozen. "You got back with your ex, Hansung."
You hope he sees the disgust on your face the moment he let out the words.
"Oh my god, hell no!" Is your instant response. Just hearing that name again made the hairs on your nape rise. "Jimin, what the fuck."
Jimin rolls his eyes. "You look so nervous, that's how you look like when you're about to tell me you've done something stupid."
Okay, fair. The assumption is coming from a valid basis. It makes you frown at him.
"You're such a bitch." Jimin laughs at the way you deflate. You let out a sign. "It's just... Taemu. From the IT dep."
"That guy?!" He exclaims and quickly covers his mouth. "The cute guy you refused to date a second time... you're finally dating him again?"
"What do you mean, finally?" You narrow your eyes at him, surprise at the positive comment about Taemu. "Jesus, I thought you were with me when I said I found him boring."
"What can I say? He can be cute and boring." He points out, as if he did not talk behind the Taemu's back when you ranted about the guy to him.
"You're fake as hell." You laugh, unbelieving.
Jimin joins your laughter, finding his sudden switch up funny as well.
"But you're, for real, dating him again? It means he still likes you?" He asks, obviously intrigued at this newfound information.
Unfortunately, it's a bit of a lie. You feel bad, but it is a great scapegoat to dodge the bullet of the conversation about Jungkook.
"I don't know... we're talking."
Which, for once, is true. Taemu and you did not exactly end on a good note (courtesy to you, boo), but you work in the same company, after all. There are times in the company's cafeteria where you bump into him, and it would have felt weird if you just snub him and act like you did not have an acquaintanceship before he asked you out to a date. Taemu's ultimately still your friend, and there are no hard feelings on his part, you can confidently say. He's... nice, you guess. Somehow of an afterthought. You're starting to think you completely misjudged him on your first date.
You take a quick trip to the fridge to grab a glass of cold water since Jimin is on loudspeaker anyway.
"That reminds me," Jimin suddenly quips. You hum to acknowledge him. "My cousin now works at your company, right? You still remember Jungkook? Have you met him yet?"
You couldn't help it; the water splattered all over the place when you heard Jungkook's name from his mouth.
Jimin quickly asks you a series of "are you okays" and you respond with a "yes" that's interrupted with a cough every time; a weak nod with a raised hand, telling him not to worry.
"Water just got in the wrong track." You reason, coughing and slapping your chest to regain your breathing. When you see wet spots on your shirt, you let out a whiny groan.
"You're so jumpy today. You're sure you're fine?" Jimin checks once again, and you have to bite your tongue to not show the way you froze a little at his observation.
You nod at him, showing him an expression that hopefully conveys he's the one being weird and definitely not you.
"Yeah, it's fine." You look down on your shirt. You're debating whether to stick with it and just let it dry in the bus later or completely change out of it. "But uh, your cousin! I did see him. We had a ceremony a week ago."
You would've said that with a smile, but Jimin knows you too well that he'll surely know it's fake. So, you spoke with an almost straight face. What Jimin says next surprises you a bit, though.
"I hope you meet each other," Jimin's excitement is visible on his face. "It'd be kinda fun; my closest cousin and my best friend... imagine that? I think you'll like each other." He seems to be so geeked about the idea that even when you're internally having a crisis, you can't help but find it cute. But then his smile gets wiped off his lips just as quickly as it showed. "It'd be awkward, though. He's, kinda like, your boss, right?"
You suddenly remember Jungkook's words about him not being your boss. It makes your lips curl, but you have to shake off the thought.
You give him a hesitant look.
"Well, not really, but he's an executive. So... it would be awkward. I guess."
Jimin nods, agreeing with you.
"It's crazy though, I never thought he'd be working at uncle's company so soon..." He trails off and he looks deep in thought, like his words were just supposed to be inner thoughts and you're not supposed to hear them. But he shakes his head after a while, moving on to another subject that makes you quietly sigh in relief. "Anyway, I'm sure I'm keeping you up. I'll sleep and you better tell me all about Kang Taemu when I wake up, okay?"
You chuckle, shaking your head at the threatening tone of his voice.
"I will. When will you come home, anyway?"
He groans, obviously not wanting to discuss home for the reasons you know exactly what. He confirms your assumption by telling so.
"Honestly, I don't know. I'm trying to avoid responsibilities as much as I can. God, I wish you were also here. There's a bar Joon and I discovered that sells these insane bottomless mimosas."
Before you could reply, Jimin goes off the frame suddenly, but the lower part of his face makes you see the way his lips curling up into a smile and saying, "Hey, hon."
There's a greeting from another person on the other end of the line – one that you are certainly familiar with.
Jimin moves his camera and as expected, you see Namjoon waving at you.
"Hey, __,"
You mirror the smile on his face. "Hi, Joon."
"Let's not keep her up. She has to go to work," Jimin tells Namjoon. "Anyway, bye. Kick some ass at work."
Laughing, you tell them, "I'll be off. Good night to you both."
When the call ends, you look down to your shirt once again, seeing that the little wet spots still haven't dried yet. Sighing, you decide to change out of it because it looked untidy.
Too bad you didn't check the time when you were doing it though, because as soon as you were done buttoning the new shirt you've worn, the clock hits 7:55 am. You bus arrives at exactly 8 am.
"Shit." You hiss, scrambling out of the apartment hoping that you can somehow run your way fast to the station and hop on it on time.
But you're no The Flash or Usain Bolt. To piss you off more, the strap of your bag got caught up with the handle of your door.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You whisper, hastily untangling the strap off the door which won't let up.
"__?" As soon as you hear the familiar voice, you stop with what you were doing and turn to Jungkook, conjuring up a what you can only hope a pleasant enough smile.
"Hey!" You say, chirpy in that weird way. You hope he didn't catch you cursing the door.
But with the way he was looking at your hand on your door, you knew he did.
Sigh. He just really has to catch you in your most vulnerable moments, huh?
"Good morning," Jungkook greets with a smile, ignoring the case at hand. As usual, he looks put together with his sleek suit and styled hair and eyeglasses.
"Morning," You say, slowly taking off the strap around the handle, gentle and slower this time.
Fucking door handle, you thought bitterly.
As you do that, you catch a glimpse of your wristwatch. Shoot.
You look back at Jungkook apologetically, moving away from your porch. "Nice seeing you. I have to catch my bus."
"When is it coming?"
"At exactly... two minutes from now. Bye! Gotta run!" You were about ready to literally run but Jungkook calls out your name.
"Wait!"
You stop coming down the flight of stairs to ask him, "What?"
"I can drive us together there."
"Oh," You slap your hands on your trousers. "That's so nice of you. Thank you—" And then suddenly, his words register, and you take back your quick agreement. You hate that you're so slow sometimes, but it's innate at this point. "I mean, no! That's a nice offer, but no, thank you."
"You won't catch your bus at this point," Jungkook says as a matter of fact, even taking a quick glance at his own watch. He begins to walk down the stairs to walk with you. "It only takes thirty minutes to drive by car to the company." When it takes you long to answer, Jungkook insists, already predicting the "no" that you're going to hit him with. "Come on, do you want to be late?"
"No."
Jungkook smiles at you. "Okay, so...?"
You purse your lips into a thin line, blowing your bangs and giving him a sheepish look.
"Okay, fine. But I owe you."
The smile on his face only grows wider. "More than fine by me."
He leads you both to the parking building nearby where his car was, only taking about a few minutes to walk towards.
When Jungkook points at his car, you follow his behind him shortly, stopping on the one side of the door. You're just about to open it when you feel Jungkook looming behind you, his hand extended forward to open the same door. You stretch your neck to look at him in question, making sure to keep a decent distance between you both.
"Uh...?" You utter.
And then it hits you.
He's trying to open the door for you.
You take a step back after the realization, feeling shy about the prospect of such a chivalrous act from him.
"This is the driver's seat."
"Oh!" You exclaimed. Eyes widening, you walk backwards to give him more space. "Yeah! Fuck... sorry," You apologize, cheeks starting to heat in embarrassment.
You round about the car and enter the passenger seat quickly, seeing Jungkook already set in his own place. You look to the side, almost pressing yourself to the window just so he won't see the way you wince.
So fucking embarrassing. This is exactly what you write about in your diary during high school days.
"Your seatbelt," Jungkook says, and you look at him with widened eyes. Right. You were way too deep in embarrassment that you forgot about it. You fiddle with the seatbelt a few seconds before he speaks once again, "Let me."
And you couldn't have stopped him from leaning closer to you to grab the seatbelt and wear it around your waist, carefully and gently, making you hitch your breath at the sudden proximity.
Of course you've noticed it way before, but this is the first time you were close enough to deduce that he smells like green apple and fresh laundry. A little different from the musky scent that you were used to smelling on men that you've been with before.
"There." He smiles at you before sitting back on his chair, wearing his own seatbelt.
You are way too stunned to acknowledge what he did that for the first few minutes, you're just quiet, mind flying to some place. You only snap out of it when Jungkook speaks again.
"Slept late last night?"
You shake your head at his question. "No... just facetime with Jimin this morning. You were right to tell me not to worry, he's with Joon."
Jungkook nods at your words, turning the ignition of the car. He starts to reverse, and you feel yourself growing embarrassingly hot when he does the thing of putting his arm around the back of your seat while the other spins the wheel, stretching his neck to look back.
You decide to look away for your own sake.
"Uh, anyway, I'm really sorry."
"Hm?" Jungkook hums, eyes on the road as he starts driving.
If you think about it, you were just at his place a few nights ago eating dinner with him, and now, you somehow find yourself in his car as he drives you both to work. His constant kindness is not lost on you... but Jungkook's casualty makes it seem like this is just his plain nature.
You quirk your head to the side.
"Are you free later for lunch?"
"I can arrange my sched. Why?"
"Do you want to go together?" You ask. You'd say the offer is a form of compensation for his help today, but getting lunch together for the pure sake of it doesn't sound bad, either. Both works, so you're only a bit hopeful as you try to look for his reaction.
Jungkook has a hint of surprise on his face when he takes a quick look at you before turning his attention back on the road.
"Really?" There's a little lilt to his voice, as if he's not surer if you're being serious.
You shrug to appear casual. "If you're not too busy, that is."
He shakes his head, smiling. "Where are we going?"
"You're gonna find out later." You tell him. Jungkook cocks his head to the side, intrigued.
"Okay... where should I meet you, then? At your office?"
"Oh, god, no." Is your quick response. Jungkook immediately looks at you in offense, but it's more like amusement when he stares longer. At that, you wave your hand so he doesn't get the wrong idea. "No, no, I mean— it's just rude if an executive, like, comes to our office."
"You're still not hung up on the boss thing?" You roll your eyes at his teasing tone which earns a hearty chuckle from Jungkook. He shakes his head playfully at you. "I doubt anyone would care."
You jut your bottom lip out because he's probably right. But still, your co-workers would ask, and you're not trying to dig yourself a hole by making yourself news of the day because the newly appointed interim CTO just walked into your office for what? Lunch? The HR would have a field day.
"Maybe we can meet at the parking lot?" You offer, thinking it's the sensible place.
Jungkook smiles. "Alright."
You had to stay behind Joonhwi and Sol as lunch came, making an excuse about going out with a friend as opposed to not coming with them. In your head, you think you were doing Joonhwi a favor.
After that, you were welcomed with text from Jungkook when you turned on your phone. It said he was already at the basement where he parked earlier, so it wasn't exactly hard to spot him right away the moment you got there.
The drive to your destination was quick enough to only amount to around fifteen minutes. As soon as Jungkook managed to park his car somewhere, you lead him to where the place you'd chosen for lunch.
When he finally registered where you were, his amusement does not go unnoticed.
"I've always wanted to go here," He tells you, looking around the stores in-line by the street.
You look back at him in surprise.
"You haven't been here?" Jungkook nods and you want to ask him if he's kidding around, but then you realize he's no ordinary person like most of the people you know in your life, recalling that Jimin's first time in a marketplace like this was only when you introduced him to it during sophomore year. "But you eat street food, right?" You ask him, even though you know he does. You did spend nights on that food truck around your building.
"Of course I do," Jungkook chuckles, rubbing a hand at the back of his head, seemingly shy. "I just never tried it here."
You give him a wide grin. "You're gonna enjoy it here. Follow me, I have a favorite store here that sells really good hotteok."
You spent the better part of the morning thinking about the place where you can bring him, opting out of going to cafes and restaurant because it was just getting kind of old. Aside from the fact that you stopped going to the food truck across your apartment building, it's also been a while since you enjoyed some street food yourself. You're also delighted to know that this is apparently Jungkook's first time going here.
The area is usually livelier in the later hours of the night, but there are still a lot of people by lunch time. Students, civilians, tourists... a usual day in Seoul, you can say.
When you reach the hotteok stall, you ask for your usual right away, almost asking the same thing for Jungkook but remember that he might actually want something else.
"Do you want other flavors instead?" You look back at him while he stands behind you with his hands in his pockets. He's forgone the coat – it's somewhere in his car seat – which left him with his usual polo shirt, sleeves folded up to his forearms. He kind of looks broody with his stance and you know... the exposed tattoos – but he looks adorable when he gives you that familiar easy-going smile at your question.
"I'll have whatever you're having."
You're hungry for a while now so you don't wait a long time to take a bite of the hotteok when it's finally served. It's hot, and Jungkook laughs as you learn it the hard way, sputtering as you move the food away from you.
"Fuck!" You curse, blowing air and fanning your mouth which doesn't really do anything.
"Slow down," Jungkook says in between his chuckles. You feel his arm resting on your back as some sort of support. "I'll get you some water."
It only takes him a few seconds to stop by a nearby stall to get you some bottled water, and you thank him after drinking it quickly.
"Sorry 'bout that," You apologize, smiling sheepishly.
"There's a—" Jungkook gestures at his mouth. You arch your brow at him, a bit confused. He tries again. "Something in your—" He interrupts himself, shaking his head, and takes out a handkerchief from the depths of his slacks.
Your immediate reaction is to take a few steps back when he goes to wipe at your mouth. Jungkook stops, pausing his movement. You give him an awkward thumbs up which prompts him to continue.
"Done."
You choose to gloss over that occurrence, taking another bite of hotteok after that.
"You know I always wondered why I don't see you going out of your apartment every morning." You start a conversation while you walk together mindlessly.
"You wonder... why?" Jungkook looks at you for a brief moment. With a teasing grin, he says, "You wanna see me every day?"
You gasp.
"Gross, Jungkook." You say, absolutely scandalized at what he said.
He just laughs, shaking his head, amused at your reaction. It makes you roll your eyes.
"I just figured you don't commute so you don't need to leave early." You tell him.
You notice he seems to be extra playful today.
"Oh, yeah, that's right."
"Lucky you. I'm so sick of commuting."
"You don't like driving?"
You shake your head, "I don't know how to drive, and I don't have any intention to."
"I think I've heard that from Joon before." Jungkook chuckles.
"Oh yeah, he told me one time he'll most probably kill himself if he drives. Which– same."
Jungkook bites on his hotteok, chews on it for a while before saying, "That's what I thought when I started to drive a motorcycle."
You almost snap your head to look at him.
"You drive a motorcycle?" You ask, just to be sure you heard him right.
Jungkook nods. "Hm."
"Oh, wow... that must be..." You trail off, looking blankly ahead of you.
Well, now you can't get it out of your head. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with his tattoos out. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with a leather jacket.
Ugh. You told yourself you were gonna forget about the stupid crush! This is so counterproductive. There's nothing special about a man who drives a motorcycle! Not at all.
"Must be...?" Jungkook curiously asks you.
"Nerve-wracking." You say, which you think is a fair answer. He doesn't have to know that you're thinking about a totally different thing.
He nods. "It was for the first time. Mom always gives me an earful whenever I use it." He shakes his head while laughing.
You can't help but ask.
"You're close with your mom?" It only registers to you that the question must be way too privy, but Jungkook doesn't seem to think so as he answers casually right away.
"Yeah. She was really glad when I came home."
You smile. You once thought he's close with his family... turns out you aren't exactly wrong.
"That's sweet."
He just gives you a soft smile. "You?"
"Oh, me? She, uh, died awhile ago. So."
The smile on Jungkook's face falters.
"That... sucks."
"Thanks." And then it makes you laugh. "You know most people say sorry. You're the first one to say it sucks."
"I..." Jungkook seems to track back on what he said. "I mean, I'm sorry, of course. But it must suck, right? I just... love my mom a lot. Can't imagine losing her."
You nod, completely understanding where he's coming from.
All your life, people have always felt sorry for you for losing your mom, your only parent. Of course, you're thankful for the sympathy, but sometimes... you just need someone to be real with it. Someone to say it sucks – because losing a parent is hard. Losing a mother suck.
"You're not so bad, Jungkook." you comment after a while, and as you take a quick look at Jungkook, you see him in another light. The same light you see a person in when you figure you want to befriend them and be in their life.
"What do you mean by that?" Jungkook asks with an arched brow.
You shake your head, smile not going away.
"Nothing!"
Jungkook annoyed you some more about it and you had to laugh at his curiosity because it was funny the way he insisted about something really inconsequential. Even when you went to another stall to buy some drinks, he still tried to bring up the same thing, but you're more stubborn than him so of course his efforts did not bear any fruit.
After a while, you sit on some bench while you eat tornado fries.
"I don't like this." You say, looking at your stick and frowning. Turning to Jungkook, you extend your tornado fries to him. "Try this one."
He takes a bite from your own stick. Surprisingly, he seems to like it.
"You wanna exchange?" He offers his cheesy tornado fries in exchange with your sour barbecue-flavored one. You nod, taking it from him. Jungkook chuckles at you. "I told you to get that one."
"I was feeling experimental." You tell him simply.
When you were in front of the stall, you told him how you didn't like sour barbecue at all but still wanted to give it a try. Obviously, that did not go well. Good thing Jungkook bought the cheesy flavor, though.
From your peripheral vision, you see a group of what seems to be a group of teenage girls sitting on the bench across from you. Judging from the very familiar uniform, they're in high school. They've been there for a while now and you notice they've been stealing glances at your direction.
You glance at Jungkook and snort.
"Looks like someone here has some admirers from Seoul High School." You tease Jungkook. He does not seem to notice the girls at all, looking at you with confusion first before turning his head to look across.
In a second, Jungkook turns uncomfortable in his seat.
"That's Seoul High School?"
You laugh at the obvious way he ignores them looking at him. Still, you nod your head at his question, "Yup. Went there."
You subtly look at the girls' direction again, catching them do the same and you can just see Jungkook's ears getting red by the second, visibly embarrassed at the unwanted attention.
"That's just across my high school." He casually says, trying so hard not to mind the girls.
"No way!" You gasp. "Yongsan International?"
He nods.
"The cheerleading teams on both schools used to have, like, this big beef before, you know that?" You tell him, ready to lay out the huge gossip that happened in your batch. And then you remember, "Oh. You've probably graduated when I entered senior year in high school."
Jungkook gives you a look. "Rude. I'm not that old."
The sass comes unexpectedly which makes you laugh out loud you almost choke on the fries.
You were just about to tease him some more when somebody approaches you both.
"U-uhm..."
When you both look at the girl, she's one from the group who was shamelessly looking towards your direction, which is obviously aimed at a specific someone by your side, Jungkook.
"Hi!" You greet cheerfully.
The girl blushes and then turns to Jungkook.
"O-oppa..." She utters, hesitant when she pulls something out of her skirt pocket. It's a small, crocheted sunflower.
You coo at the sight, looking at Jungkook in amusement. The man beside you just grow more uncomfortable in his seat. He looks so constipated, god bless him.
"My friend told me to give this to the eonni beside you."
Your smile is quickly wiped off your face the moment her words sink in, confusion slowly coming to paint your expression. You look at the girl but before you can say anything, she's already walking away as soon as Jungkook takes the crocheted flower from her. You watch as she and her friends ran, their figures slowly disappearing from your line of sight.
"Looks like you got admirers from Seoul High School." Jungkook quips beside you. "For the eonni beside me." He teases, extending the cute little flower to you.
Hesitantly, you take the flower from his hands.
"You know, it suits you." Jungkook says when you don't say anything, still stunned from the literal turn of events.
You look up, baffled. "Huh?"
"A sunflower. It suits you... you're like it." He smiles, soft and gentle. There's a look of fondness in his eyes that you couldn't have mistaken for anything else. "I'm glad they gave that to you."
You open your mouth to speak, but there's nothing at the tip of your tongue.
Shying away from his gaze, you mumble a low, "Thank you."
You don't think you hear his next word right.
"Cute."
You have a hobby of collecting hobbies instead of focusing on one thing to be good at, jumping from one activity to another, even if it means abandoning your previous thing. Hobbies for most people means time lent to be better with it every day, but in your defense, you don't necessarily think you have to be good at something.
You've tried drawing. You've tried dancing. You've tried the guitar and you've tried the ukelele and you've tried crocheting and you've tried to study astrology. You've built three huge boxes of storage containing the needed materials for each of them, but they end up collecting dust.
Why can't a hobby just stay as a hobby, anyway? Why can't you just feel goofy one day to suddenly start drawing and give up the next day the moment you realize shading is hard? Why can't you just buy dress patterns and only sew the skirt part because tops are complicated to sew? Why can't you just learn four guitar chords because it's enough to play at least five songs using them?
None of it matters, you think. People will pressure you to push and push until you can possibly capitalize on something you're good at, but it just isn't the case for you.
You'll collect all the hobbies in the world until your head is full of random things and you just burst with it.
And true to your words, you find yourself wandering about in the baking aisle of your local grocery store at the late evening hours.
Yep. It's 2028 and your hobby pick for the year is baking.
So, what if you're a disaster in the kitchen? Cooking and baking are two different worlds! At least that's what Google tried to tell you a while ago when you were cleaning your bathroom earlier this morning, suddenly craving for some matcha cookies after you were done.
It sounded about right in your head that you decided to pick up ingredients for it, deciding it will be your dinner. At the back of your head, you think you should've just gone to the hundred cafes surrounding your apartment complex like, you know, any regular person would if they're craving something. But you figured that if you know how to bake, you could get matcha cookies anytime you want.
What can you say? You like to live life on edge. (You'll probably burn yourself in the oven later, but that will just be another lesson that life is soon to give you. You're just taking it in advance.)
But living on edge doesn't mean getting your card declined when you turn it to the cashier to supposedly pay for your grocery.
"I'm so sorry, uhm, can I have a few seconds, please?" You tell the cashier, giving her an awkward smile as you grab your wallet from your tote bag again, taking your card from her. You take another one of your debit cards this time and offer it to her, subtly looking around in hopes that no one is watching.
"Oh, we don't accept debit cards issued by this bank, ma'am." She says, and you're just about ready to dig yourself a hole from this complete, utter embarrassment.
"Okay..." you trail off nervously, glancing at the computer to look at your total. "I'll just pay in cash."
You do not, in fact, have enough cash.
You can tell the cashier is getting impatient from the way she shifts her weight from one side to another, and you keep yourself from making eye contact with her, fumbling with your wallet.
Three hundred and sixty-five days in a year and your card chose to decline on this very particular day. Why don't they accept your debit card? And why don't you have enough cash with you? Are you really this broke?
This is going to be a disaster. You can't afford to go to prison for this. Can you even go to prison for not paying grocery? Okay, maybe jail time for like 12 hours? But you have work tomorrow!
"Excuse me, miss,"
Somebody says but you refused to look at whoever it was, still counting the bills in your wallet that do not even accumulate to half the amount of your total.
"You can charge her bill here."
At that, your head quickly snap to the owner of the voice only to reveal himself as no other than Jeon Jungkook.
You swear you almost sigh in relief at the sight of him and have the sudden urge to hug him big time.
Jungkook looks at you and gives you a smile.
"Hi."
"Jungkook," you breathe. "Thank god you're here."
The cashier looks at you both weirdly but nonetheless swipes the card Jungkook gave her., instructing him to type his code on the key pad. There's nobody in line for the cashier you went to other than you both because it is too late an hour to be getting groceries, so Jungkook is able to butt in seamlessly and get his cart checked out as well.
"You're very much welcome." He says warmly.
Jungkook's dressed just as casually as you; a combination of simple white t-shirt and shorts and a pair of sliders. His grocery contains a lot different than yours, showing all sorts of food ingredients. You wait for his stuff to get bagged until you both head out of the store.
His car was just parked nearby, so you follow him towards its direction to apologize.
"I'm so, so sorry for earlier. I'll pay you later when we get home, of course." You say, just now registering how embarrassing it is for him to catch you in that situation. You're no stranger to getting your card declined... but really, now?
You decide to add awkwardly, "Or... do you have Kakao Pay?"
Jungkook chuckles while he opens his trunk, picking up his bags of groceries to place them in there. He shakes his head, keeping his hand outstretched to upwards to hold the hood of his car.
"It's fine. Don't worry about it."
You're about to speak in protest when he gestures at the bag in your hands, as if asking you to place it in the trunk as well. You shake your head repeatedly.
"No, it's okay, I'm just gonna take a cab home." You say, pointing to your back where the street is, politely refusing his obvious offer to drive you home.
He's done too much in the span of ten minutes you've seen each other tonight. He's paid for your groceries for heaven's sake, and he still has the intention to drive you again to your destination? Not adding the fact that he also just drove you to work yesterday to keep you from being late. It's like he's just doing you heaps of favors and so far, you've done nothing in return.
"__, please, I'm offering." Jungkook insists. As usual. "I really don't mind."
Shoulders deflating, you let out a sigh.
"It's just that..." You start, nibbling on your bottom lip.
"What?"
"You've just been doing me a lot of favors lately." You say, looking away from his gaze.
Jungkook calls your name gently. You train your gaze at him. He steps closer to you and gives your shoulder a soft tap. "Hey, I'm not counting."
The words in itself aren't all that special, but the way he said it and the way he looked at you while he did may have just did a little damage to your heart because why did it seem so genuine?
Still, you shy away.
"It's just really embarrassing." You say, out of argument now.
Jungkook lets out a sound of amusement and takes the bag from your hands. He didn't even give you the chance to protest before he managed to put it successfully in the trunk of his car, together with his own groceries.
"Why don't you pay me back by helping me make dinner tonight?" Jungkook muses.
You give him a weird look.
"You really want me in a kitchen? Have you not listened to my horror stories this whole time, Jungkook?"
He laughs as he leads you both inside his car. You follow quietly behind but this time, you don't mistake the passenger seat from the driver's seat and instantly wear your seatbelt as soon as you're sat.
"I dunno, I'm just offering. I thought it'll be fun." He shrugs, turning on the ignition of the car and starting to drive back to the apartment building.
"Okay, I can at least chop some onions and garlic..." You trail off. And then you remember as an afterthought, "Oh, I'm actually baking tonight as well."
Jungkook takes a quick surprise glance at you. "You never told me you know how."
You snort. "I don't know how, trust me. I'm just starting right now."
"Is that why you went out grocery shopping tonight?" He arches a brow.
"Yep. Totally a spontaneous thing. I wanted, like, this very specific matcha cookie..."
Jungkook laughs. "Should I help you with the baking as well? I might learn from you."
"Really? You want to help?" You ask him delightfully.
He nods, making your grin wider.
"Sounds fun."
You both agreed to cook and bake at his place, partly because you personally are not ready for him to see your own flat. When you get inside his unit, Jungkook cutely bragged about his table set that just arrived earlier this morning according to him.
Personally, you've barely cooked at your own place let alone somebody else's. The one time you were in someone else's kitchen was Jimin's but even then, it was just to microwave some pizza and other take-out food.
It should feel weird to be prepping ingredients with someone, to move around the kitchen with the goal to make yourself a homecooked meal – especially with somebody like Jungkook – but truthfully, it felt almost... natural. Probably because you're conversing casually while you're doing things so there isn't any awkward silence.
You're making tangsuyuk, according to him, and he's obviously taking the lead – expertly prepping the meat while you go chop some spices needed for the dish.
"Is this okay?" You ask, showing him your work. You hope he likes it because you're kind of under a weird pressure to be in here, helping him. Also, you're not sure if you minced the garlic right.
But Jungkook just gives you a hearty smile.
"Good girl."
And goes back to what he's doing as if he just said nothing.
Which—okay, he seemed to have unconsciously said it that now you're gaslighting yourself whether you heard him right or not. Did he really say what you think he just said? What the fucking fuck.
Thankfully, Jungkook's too busy to notice that you become a bit frozen in your position for a good ten seconds. If he truly didn't mean to say that, he needs to get those words out of his vocabulary before he sends you in a sudden cardiac arrest. It'd be the most mysterious death of humanity.
"Do you need the carrots?" You ask, raising the vegetable in your hand.
Jungkook nods and you start to peel it. He watches by your side when you begin slicing the carrot.
"Cut them into Julienne slices."
"Huh?" You look back at him. "Not the cooking jargon, Kook." You deadpan, the nickname seamlessly coming out of your mouth.
He apologizes and tells you exactly what he meant. You furrow your brows in concentration to achieve what he wants, but Jungkook just laughs beside you.
"Okay, let me just—"
He's behind you a second after that, towering over your form and circling his arms around you. Your breath hitches as Jungkook places his hand on top of yours – the one that holds the knife – and begins to guide you through slicing the carrot.
You can feel his breathing from the proximity of your position, and even though there's still distance between the both of you, it's only hairsbreadth away and frankly, the ridges of the front of his body are so prominent against your back.
Jungkook does not seem to face the same internal panic as you though, because as soon as he deems that you are staring to get it, he steps back and let you do the thing on your own.
He leans back on the countertop, crossing his arms while looking at you.
"You're not so bad at this like you claimed." He comments.
You feel your cheeks heating up, so you focus your full attention on the carrot, your hands seemingly having developed a mind of their own throughout the time. Well, at least it's doing the right job. You can only hope you don't slice through your fingers... imagine cutting them right into this very moment.
"This is a trauma response from watching too much Gordon Ramsay."
Jungkook chuckles at your joke, shaking his head.
"We're just gonna wait for another thirty minutes for the meat and the mushroom. Should we start baking? What do we do first?" He says, washing his hands first before walking towards your direction.
You take your phone out from your pocket, looking at him a bit apologetically as you say "sorry" for pulling up Google. For the record, you haven't memorized shit and this is your first time baking.
Jungkook shakes his head, telling you there's no need for apologies because he "can't bake for shit" himself. That makes you feel relieved. You thought he's just good at a lot of things.
You don't encounter any trouble while mixing the dry ingredients, but when it comes to the wet ones, you think you've done something wrong. Jungkook tells you to try it. When you dip your finger into the mixture and taste it, you automatically scrunch your face.
"What, why?" Jungkook asks curiously.
"I don't think this is quite right..." You say, looking down at the mixture sadly.
"Mayve we can add more vanilla...?" He takes the bottle with him, ready to pour some into the bowl.
You pout. "But it says one teaspoon and we already put one teaspoon."
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't know... give up?"
Jungkook chuckles as he says your name.
You sigh. "Okay, maybe we'll try some that."
You do as you say, and as you taste it again, you're delighted to notice the elevated flavor. Mindlessly dipping your finger again into the bowl, you offer it to Jungkook to try.
The very act just sinks into your head when he leans down to suck it off your finger.
It happened quick, not at all sensual and slow like the movies make it out to be, but you feel your heart rate picking up at the feel after-effect of Jungkook's hot tongue touching your skin. But as you look at him, his eyebrows are furrowed, assessing the taste, not at all in a trance by what just happened.
"Oh, definitely better." He comments, as if he didn't just... suck your finger?
... Which you offered.
That he took willingly.
You turn away from him and pretend to busy yourself with the electric mixer, fumbling with the paddle.
"Are you cooking the tangsuyuk yet?" You ask, changing the subject. Jungkook is completely unaware of the current chaos in your head, walking towards the refrigerator to take out the pork he marinated earlier and the bowl of mushrooms.
"Just tell me if you need help." He tells you, touching the small of your back as he passes by you to get to the stove.
You feel your cheeks heating at the touch, moving aside to let him start frying the meat with the batter he's busied himself with awhile ago.
"Shit!" You say, surprised at the sudden whir of the machine. Jungkook quickly looks at you. You laugh and give him a thumbs up. "I'm fine here!"
You both work together on your own thing, and when you let the dough to rest, Jungkook, at the same time, finishes frying the meat of the tangsuyuk. You don't want to feel useless while you don't have anything to work on, so you peer over what Jungkook is doing and ask him if you there's anything he needs.
"Do you want to make the sauce?" Jungkook asks you. You scrunch your nose and hesitantly nod. He seems to notice your uncertainty and chuckles. "I'll teach you."
"Okay, but don't blame me if it tastes like shit later, okay?" You warn but he just shrugs and laugh, telling you that he'll talk you through the process and there's no need to be nervous. You can just experiment with it a little, he says.
You've watched a lot of Hell's Kitchen episodes that you have this silly, unrealistic expectation on what goes on in kitchens, but thankfully, Jungkook isn't like Gordon Ramsay at all and is so unbelievably gentle in teaching you even when you almost spilled soy sauce on the countertop and put too much vinegar than needed. He shrugs your worries off by fixing the thing, thankful that when he offers you the ladle to taste the sauce from it, it's more than decent.
While Jungkook prepares the tangsuyuk for your dinner, you take the time to form your cookie dough into small circles, leaving it in the oven to bake while you follow Jungkook into the living room and start eating the food that you cooked – or he cooked.
Jungkook teases you that you lied about not being good at cooking, but you have to remind him you didn't do shit and only the bare minimum. He looks like he's not convinced.
By the time that you're finished with your dinner, the oven's timer went off. Jungkook insists that he wash the dishes even though you feel like you should be the one doing it, but he tells you to check your cookies in the oven and so you did.
You're not expecting anything, but it will feel really good if it tastes at least okay.
Crossed fingers, your mind says as you take out the sheet pan.
First impression: it looks okay to the eye. Like real cookies.
But soon, your parade is rained on when you try to bite into the cookie.
It looks like real cookie, all right, but apparently doesn't taste like one.
Your face contorts into a frown as soon as you bite down into it a second time.
Okay, that's it. Put them in the tupperware as soon as possible, you thought. So, you do just that, placing all of the pieces into the plastic box and securing them away.
From where you were, you can hear Jungkook shutting the water off on the sink, his footsteps coming near you. Once he gets close, he peers down at what you're doing. Intrigued, he asks for one.
"No." you shake your head. The cookies are to be gatekept not because it's too good but because it should not be consumed at all. Jesus. You just ate Jungkook's tangsuyuk and it tasted exactly like the ones you've eaten from restaurants; it'd be such an embarrassing contrast to your own work.
"Don't be stingy," Jungkook playfully says, already making a move to reach for the cookies in your hands.
You hide the tupperware behind your back and stop him with your other free hand.
"Don't come closer. These cookies are not for consumption. Go away."
But he just arches a brow, walking a few steps forward.
"Jungkook!" You whine. "They don't taste good, and I'm embarrassed by them."
"Just one bite," Jungkook chuckles at you, not understanding your mortification. "Come on, __."
But you're stubborn and you won't let him have any of it even if he tries hard.
Jungkook is just as determined though, as he threatens to get closer and closer to you.
You squeaked out his name when he takes a hold of the tupperware but thankfully, you're quick on your reflex and able to take it back.
The whole thing prompts you to burst into laughter as you run around the island of his kitchen, giggling at the silliness of it all.
Your efforts to get away from him eventually go to waste as he managed to get ahold of your waist with his one arm, the other not missing the beat to steal the cookies from you.
He's firm over his hold, lifting you up while laughing against your head as you try to wriggle away.
"Let me have one bite, __," He says, and with his one arm, sits you on the countertop, not letting you go just yet even when you're fully sat.
You try to snatch the plastic from him but he's much quicker this time. When he opens it, you have no choice but to cover your face in embarrassment.
"I told you it's bad." You say, pouting at him, noting the expression on his face as he chews on the cookies that tells you it definitely does not taste good.
"You're a first timer." Jungkook just says, putting down the tupperware.
"Don't try to make me feel better." You frown even more.
"I'm not! I'm just pointing out that this is the first time you tried so of course it's not gonna be perfect right away?" He offers, some sort of comfort, maybe?
But your shoulders deflate because he's right.
Still.
Jungkook must have noticed your mood and tries to cheer you up one more time.
"Come on, you still made a really good tangsuyuk."
That makes you chuckle, unconsciously kicking his knee slightly making him let out an ingenuine, "Ow!"
You don't notice one of the straps of your spaghetti top falling off until Jungkook fixes it for you in the middle of your shared laughter.
"Thanks." You smile at him, mindlessly touching the strap, keeping it in place.
Jungkook hums as he helps you jump out of the kitchen counter.
The night ended with him walking you to your unit again, a rather silly thing he keeps on insisting to do. It's hard to put a name on it, but there's a certain feeling in your chest when you went out of Jungkook's apartment.
A feeling that lingers its way through when you receive a text from him after you come out of the shower that night.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:05pm]: good night chef
You fight off the smile that forces its way into your lips as you type out a reply.
You [11:06pm]: good night :)))))
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:06pm]: i thought u already slept
You [11:07pm]: at 11oclock??? what do u think am i a grandma
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: fair Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: but i had fun earlier. we should do it again sometime
You lie on your back, can't help yourself from letting a small giggle.
You [11:09pm]: jungkook-a You [11:09pm]: just tell me u wanna be with me??
You meant that as a joke, obviously. Just like how he joked about you one time over lunch about wanting to see him every day when you brought up the topic of not seeing him come out of his apartment. You did not mean anything by it other than friendly banter.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:10pm]: 🤔 Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: that can be arranged. you can be my personal sous chef and I'll build us a restaurant
You [11:11pm]: sweet
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:11pm]: you havent seen all, baby
Your lips part.
Okay...
Your relationship is absolutely platonic at best. But you can't help but think that he gets a little flirty at times... like the few moments in his kitchen earlier. Is it bad that you're thinking way too much about that specific memory of him licking your finger without thought? Of his strong arm effortlessly carrying you against his rigid body and putting you on the countertop, almost manhandling you? Is it bad you can't get the memory of him fixing your top out of your head?
His use of nickname ticks a little light at the back of your head, and you decide to poke the nest a little.
You [11:12pm]: really? what r u wearing right now
Just a little jokey-joke between friends and nothing more.
You don't even expect a reply to that, but your phone dings a second after, and when you open your message thread again, your jaw parts wider this time.
It's a picture of Jungkook lying his bed, his face cut off from the frame. But you know it's him from the arm that peeks out, his tattoos a familiar sight by now. The photo is taken at a low angle, just enough for you to see the sleeveless shirt he's sporting and the strings of his grey shorts.
You [11:14pm]: i meant that as a joke
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:14pm]: 🥴
You do not know what he meant by that. You look for a picture to reply with, and the HAHA reaction is expected the moment you pressed send.
You [11:15pm]: stripper patrick says good night
Laughing silently at the meme you sent him which was Patrick from Spongebob wearing a pair of black fishnet tights and boots, you wait as three dots appear on Jungkook's line.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:15pm]: you're a minx
You chuckle, reacting to his message with an emoji and turn off your phone, almost throwing it on your nightstand and scrambling to bury your face in your pillow to let out a sound of a weird sob, but you're smiling your face off and your cheeks feel way too hot.
The truth of the matter is that you ended the conversation because you're afraid of where it's going.
Turning around, you lay on your back and stare at your ceiling, calming the beat of your heart and forcing your eyes to shut close.
But the picture Jungkook sent you keeps on popping up in your head, almost like those ads from shady websites on the internet, and when you think about it, it triggers a slur of memories that play like a picture in your head: his lips wrapped around your finger... his strong arm... his subtle touch on the small of your back...
"Ugh," you groan, slapping your hands over your face.
You furrow your brows to appear serious, thinking that it'll make you think of something serious as well, wrapping a blanket over your body and sighing when the technique doesn't work.
Okay, think of dogs... and puppies...but that's apparently a wrong move because now you're thinking of Jungkook with his dog.
You're obviously awful at this.
You turn on your bed once again, muffling a sound in your pillow.
But then as minutes passed, your restlessness continues to prevail and you're about to cry with the unknown frustration that sits at the back of your head.
Laying in silence for a while, your hand finds itself roaming over your body, your thumb catching your nipple through your thin top. You pinch the nub, experimental, until it turns into a pebbled rock in your touch.
You bite your bottom lip as your other hand trails down over your panties, running it around the waistband, down until you reach down, down, down to your core.
Your lips part when you feel its heat, two of your fingers starting to stroke where your nether lips were. You sigh at the sensation, squeezing at your boob and turning your head to the side, thinking about how good it feels.
Slowly, you reach down under your parties to part your lips, moaning at the wetness that welcomes you below.
You start to stroke gently with your middle finger, drawing figure eights over your core and making sure to put friction on your clit. The ministration produces more wetness in your cunt, and you spread it over for easier access inside as you start to poke into your hole.
"Oh my god," you mewled, breathing heavily against your pillow, pumping a finger into you. It's a little tight, and you remember you haven't touched yourself like this for over a few weeks now.
But god, how could you forget the feeling of it? The feeling of something going in and out of your cunt, gliding so smoothly because of the abundance of wetness all over.
"Fuck." you sigh out, lips parted, eyes closed to feel more of the sensation.
Your other hand reaches under your top to fondle with your boob, helping you stimulate yourself into that familiar feeling of great ecstasy that comes with your pussy getting touched.
It's starting to feel hot, and you can feel the beads of sweat starting to form on the side of your head even though the AC and your fan are both on. There's a zap that starts from your spine that comes with a sort of electricity coming from within, transferring that tick into your belly which prompts you to pump into your hole faster.
The sheets are a mess at this point, with your feet kicking into them as your movement picks up pace.
"Oh god," you cry out silently, muffling your sob in the comfort of your fluffy pillow.
You chase the feeling of completion, closing your eyes once more, trying to figure out how to get there.
And there's one familiar man that pops inside your head.
Jeon Jungkook.
"Oh shit," you hiss, pinching your nipple and going in and out faster.
Jungkook with his lips around your finger. Jungkook pressing his body against your back. Jungkook carrying you against his body. Jungkook's electric touch as he fixes the strap that's fallen over your naked shoulder.
You let out a pathetic moan, trying to shake away the thoughts of him.
You aren't supposed to. It feels wrong. So wrong.
Suddenly, you feel frustrated over still not reaching your climax up to this point.
You let out a heavy breath, pulling out your fingers from your pussy and from under your panties.
You don't get off. You never do – with your fingers, anyway, that is. And that's why you have a trusted toy buried deep at the back of the drawer of your nightstand, kept away for occasional uses. You'd say you need it right now, but you're too flushed and tired to take it out.
And there's also a melancholic feeling in your heart upon realizing that you just thought of Jungkook while touching yourself.
"Shit, shit, shit." You hiss, the cusses mostly dedicated to yourself.
You shake your head as you sit on the edge of your bed, your hair a bird's nest and clothes strewn over your body as per your reflection on the full-body mirror across your bed.
Sighing, you let your head down and massage your temples.
"God, what's wrong with me,"
You feel guilty... because you aren't supposed to think of a friend when you're trying to get off. You told yourself you'd stop finding Jungkook hot or cute or what-the-fuck-ever so that stupid crush can go away finally. But it feels like all your efforts – or lack, thereof – always seem to fall short.
This isn't good. You need to think straight.
A sudden loud ping catches your attention, almost startling you because it's in the middle of the night, after all. When you snap your head to the side, you see your phone with the light out.
You instantly feel a little nervous. What if it's Jungkook? There's an irrational fear in your head that he knows what you just did, but you shake the thought away, scolding yourself for getting way over your head.
Nibbling on your bottom lip, you feel scared to open your phone but then, did you really have a choice?
Slowly trudging to the direction of your phone, you pick it up from the table and turn it on.
August 18: Your cycle forecast Ovulation in 2 days. Your sex drive may just be hitting its peak🌡️ Tap for tips to make most out of it👉
"Oh fuck me." You curse, throwing your phone on the bed, feeling pissed all of the sudden.
Fucking period tracker app... and ovulation.
PART THREE | ...
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#fic: nb#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook imagines#jungkook scenarios#jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jeon jungkook#bts smut#bts imagines#bts scenarios#jeon jungkook x reader
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May You Never Forget Me
Viktor x gn!Reader | 2.2k | 18+ (no smut but implied sex)
Viktor replays fond memories with his newfound power, though your memory refuses to allow him such peace. 🚫 I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING USED TO TRAIN AI 🚫
The sun was high overhead, the water below nothing but glitter and gold. The tall grass whispered secrets, sliding to and fro as an ocean. Their long tips grazed Viktor’s knees and elbows, but he didn’t feel them. Didn’t feel the heat of the warm summer’s day. Neither did he feel the cool breeze as it surfed the green waves you sat waist-deep in.
But you did.
You tipped your head back, stray stands of hair pulled in each direction in rapid succession, the wind never making up its mind on where it wanted to lead. The dazzling smile you wore was accompanied with a pleased hum. Shoulders tucked in, hands planted behind you as you basked in wind-swept kisses and sun-warm hugs.
Embraced by the world, at least that’s how it looked to Viktor.
“You know what I love most about you?” You asked, eyes still peacefully closed.
Viktor didn’t respond as quickly as last time, wanting to stay in the moment a while longer. He yearned to reach out, to grab your hand. But he felt that might be a perversion of some kind. To alter something already etched into the stone of time.
“What?” He couldn’t help the amused lilt that always entered his tone when he knew you were going to say something that attempted to catch him off guard. And it wasn’t simply because he’d seen this all before.
You peeked at him through a squinted eye, then shifted forward, wrapping your arms around your knees.
Through parted lips you released a sigh, and Viktor frowned. That wasn’t the way it usually went. He waited, patiently as he always did, but the moment had passed. You were stuck, thumb circling the knuckles on your other hand, a nervous tic. You hadn’t done that here. You had been much too relaxed, hadn’t you?
“(Y/n),” Viktor called cautiously. He’d rarely gone off script before. It just never felt right with you.
As you turned to him, he felt his chest tighten. Your eyes were expectant, shifting hue in the unfiltered light.
He inched forward now, knees flattening the grass beneath his weight. His hand shook as he raised it to your face, thumb brushing over your cheekbone absentmindedly as he peered closer into your eyes, willing them to settle.
But they didn’t. The memory of their colour lost to time.
“I am… forgetting you,” He spoke aloud, the discovery as profound as death itself.
You didn’t respond. How could you?
Then, you were gone. Viktor clasped the empty air in front of him where his hand hovered.
“You coming?” Your voice pulled his attention, followed by a giggle as you floated atop the river below, hands swivelling in the water to keep yourself from drifting, creating golden ripples.
You had skipped forward like a stuttering record. Viktor stood, which was much easier to do now than it had been back then.
He waded through the green towards you. The feeling of wrongness had settled at the bottom of his stomach. The river felt of nothing as he stepped into it, though the weightlessness still followed, his pace slowed by the resistance of the water as he made his way to you.
Unblemished arms cradled you, keeping you close, guarding you from the current. Water pooled at the dip of your hips, running down your arms as you raised them around his neck.
“I didn’t expect you’d know how to swim.”
“Well,” He looked down through the gap between your bodies, increasingly slim as it were, “it’s not exactly swimming.”
Your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you contemplated something.
“Do you know how to?”
Viktor gave an amused huff. “What? You don’t think those from the Undercity have access to such lessons?”
“Is that a yes?”
You shifted your weight, pushing him back with a splash.
Viktor floundered for a moment, before hasty hands pressed against his back, lifting him up as he had done for you.
He caught your elbows, holding on tightly.
“Sorry,” you said solemnly, yet your colourless eyes held mirth, “I thought you were implying you could.”
Viktor was frowning now, struggling to stay upright, his limbs a weightless mess.
“Here, relax.” You guided him with a well-placed hand to his stomach, the other remaining at the small of his back. “Do you trust me? You can do it.”
Filling his lungs with air, he relaxed his taut muscles, glancing up at you to gather your approval.
Your expression was blank, staring into the earth’s mantle through his ribs.
“(Y/n),” a question, more than a name at this point.
“If you leave, I’ll kill you.”
He blinked, and the sun had gone, shut out by grey curtains that hung heavy. He lifted a hand, the blanket shifting to reveal the tube that emerged from his forearm.
The words slipped from his lips without need for a rehearsal.
“You can’t kill me if I’m already dead.”
A sob wracked your body, your head falling to his chest.
Why was he here? He hadn’t wanted to see this. The only memories worth revisiting were the ones in which you were happy. The ones where he had made you happy.
He didn’t want to hear you crying. It had broken his heart then, and it broke it with such ease even now.
Shutting his eyes, he willed himself out of the recollection, reaching for the strand that would tug him back to consciousness. He flailed blindly, grasping the closest parallel he could find.
When he opened his eyes again, you were drawing lazy circles around his bellybutton. He lay naked, arms draped around your bare shoulders.
You shifted, looking up at him, your chin digging into his sternum now.
“So, what are your deductions from this ‘experiment’?” You asked. Viktor hummed, his foot bumping against yours playfully.
“All thorough experiments require a rigorous data set,” he teased.
You shuffled, placing your hands under your chin, contemplating as your eyes skirted over his collarbones.
“Is that your way of saying you want to see other people, or that you want to see more of me?”
A pinch upon your cheek forced you to meet his gaze with a hiss, your eyes having settled on a dull desaturation now.
“I would be honoured to share my bed with you many more times,” he told you, “If that is what you want.”
You rolled your eyes in mock annoyance. “Why do you say everything with such gravitas? Are you hoping I’ll quote you? Is that it?”
“And when would you be quoting me, in this scenario? If someone asks you how I was?” He poked at your cheeks some more, enjoying how they heated under his touch.
“Nothing so mundane,” you grinned, nipping at the tip of his finger in retaliation, “I would have it carved into my headstone. ‘Honoured Bed-Sharer’. It’ll go right after ‘Greatest Swimming Coach’.”
Viktor laughed, and he adored the way your eyes, despite their lack of colour, softened at the sound.
After a moment, silence settled, and he worried he might’ve forgotten the rest of this one, too. You pressed your ear against his chest, light fingers tapping, mimicking the rhythm.
“What are you-?”
“Shh,” you hushed him, “I’m conducting further research.”
Silence fell over the room, the heavy curtains slowly drifting upwards, a rogue wind entering through the closed window. A bright flash momentarily blinded Viktor, and he found with a start that he was back in that open field, Piltover’s towering buildings but a stroke on the horizon.
“You know what I love most about you?” You asked.
Viktor remained silent, the pang in his chest becoming too painful to ignore. His eyes stung as he stared at the side of your face, clinging to the shape of your nose, the rise of your cheekbones. He didn’t want to lose any more of you than he already had.
“What?”
He willed himself to remember what came next, with a desperation that clawed behind his eyes.
“Please,” he begged in a broken voice, “tell me.”
You turned to him, pity superimposed on this memory of your face.
“I guess this is the end, huh.”
Viktor shook his head like a frightened child. “No, you cannot say that.”
But the blood was already there, shed over the waving grass, memories corrupted and interwoven.
You were laying on your side, crimson bubbles popping against your lips as you spoke. Your voice was so weak now.
“Just, do me a favour, will you?”
Viktor curled over you, his tears falling onto your cheeks. He held you there, in his memories, despite knowing he had deprived you of being held in your real final moments.
He could see himself now, masked and unmoved, standing a painful distance away as you looked through the version of him recalling, reaching out, your hand phasing through his chest, his heart.
“Don’t forget me.”
“I won’t,” he was pleading with himself more than promising.
The past version of himself stood stoic as he watched the light leave your eyes, head tilted with curiosity, remaining silent.
“You know what I love most about you?” You asked.
He couldn’t keep doing this anymore. He had had enough.
Though, despite the weariness bearing on his soul, he persisted. He would recall until he fixed that broken promise.
“…What?”
The memory skipped forward and you were suddenly between his legs, a gentle finger tracing the slope of his nose.
“Your eyes.”
Viktor’s muscles relaxed in relief, his face falling against your shoulder. He had forgotten what he had said in response; some joke about them being the window to the soul or something.
“I love how you look at me, Vik. Like you can barely contain how you feel.” You pushed your nose against his cheek, urging him to look at you again. “No one’s ever looked at me the way you do.”
He chuckled defiantly, “I sincerely doubt that.”
You smiled a small smile, stretching your legs out atop his. A closeness you always craved, and one he never before realized was a need you sufficiently satisfied.
“I’m not saying people have never looked at me with fondness before. That’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean, then?”
You huffed in annoyance, trying to find the right words.
“People say… to be loved is to be understood. But I don’t think that’s necessarily true. You can love someone without understanding them entirely. But you-“
You glanced up, caught off guard as always by the way he gazed into you, like he was casually viewing everything you ever were and everything you would ever be.
Did you know, back then, that he would be revisiting these memories? Was the way he looked at you so profound because he was doing so in a compounding way, a million times through the same eyes?
“You make me feel seen when no one else has ever come close.”
You stared up at him, lost in his eyes. He hated how it hurt. How he couldn’t feel the warmth beneath your fingers as they dipped under the hem of his shirt, greedy in their touching of his waist.
“I guess this is the end,” you said again. You looked tired.
“It cannot be.”
“A favour,” you were breathless, eyes filled with grey tears.
“Anything,” he whispered, cradling your face in his hands.
“You coming?”
The darkened stars now surrounded him on all sides, but you stood before a tear of white light, peering out.
A way out. A new discovery in all of his known power.
Viktor stepped forward, finding his leg unsteady.
Through the slit he could see himself, towering over you. Your hand pressed against your bleeding abdomen, legs shuffling, desperate to get away from him.
The version of you that had broken out of his memories stood beside him on the edge of the framed moment.
“Do you trust me?” Your voice was hollow, a distant record. You held the edge of the tear open like a curtain to a stage. Your body was gradually melting into the cosmos, your time in his memory limited.
“There is nothing to be done,” he argued, his heart a heavy stone in his chest. “It happened and I cannot change it.”
“You can do it.” Your hollowed form told him.
Viktor stared into the portal, watching himself approach your fallen body. It wouldn’t be long now until you were reciting your last words. He couldn’t hear them again.
Viktor stepped into the tear, stepping into himself, embodying that terrifying form. A form which now folded in on itself, sliding to its knees before you, a hand reaching out.
Lifting his palm beneath your chin, he tilted your face up, a small gasp tumbling from your blood-stained mouth.
“Your eyes,” he said, voice distorted under his mask. He was relieved to find their colour, even on this dark day.
You parted your lips, red gurgling between them.
“I guess this is-“
“No!”
Your brows pinched weakly. Laboured breaths slick with the blood now filling your lungs.
“Vik,” you coughed, “I’m kinda dying here. Won’t you let me go with grace?”
Viktor’s eyes widened, his arms wrapping around you in an instant, your warmth seeping into him.
“You’re alive.”
“Barely,” you wheezed.
He pulled back, your blood now on his stomach from where he’d held you. Your fingers dug sharply into his shoulders as he placed a firm hand to the wound, the other wrapped around the back of your neck, holding you close.
“I can work with barely.”
#viktor#viktor arcane#viktor arcane x reader#viktor x reader#arcane viktor#writing#league of legends#arcane fanfiction#league of legends fanfiction
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I have to speak my peace about Captain Curly
Warning: mouthwashing spoilers
So, I’ve noticed a lot of people saying the same points that are essentially: “Oh Curly is a piece of shit because he just let his buddy get away with assaulting Anya”
And I am here to argue against this point. So at no point does Curly deny, or tell Anya that what she went through never happened, or anything like that. Usually, when somebody “supports their friend” after said friend commits assault, they will react with disbelief, or just general distrust for the person accusing their friend. I feel like the fact that Anya continuously makes small references to the assault situation around Curly, and the fact she talks and is alone with Captain Curly so often, are indicators that she has not been met with disbelief or distrust on his end.
When a victim receives a bad reaction to telling somebody about their assault, they usually do not bring it up or talk about it with that person after that. They also would not have the same dynamic, the same relaxed mannerisms that Anya has with Curly.
Now, onto the point where people accuse Curly of enabling Jimmy, I also don’t think that’s true. They are stuck on a relatively small ship, with no way out for over a year. They can’t risk hurting or punishing Jimmy, because Curly of all people will know how reactionary and violent Jimmy can be. They can’t kill him, because that’s illegal, and Curly is unfortunately responsible for Jimmy considering he is the Captain of the ship. Aside from the fact that, with the way Pony Express is shown to treat the crew, if they harmed or killed one of their own crew members it’s entirely possible that they would not get paid at all, and all the work and time and energy (and suffering, on Anya’s part) would literally be for nothing. Then they also get tried for murder, and they would have to prove that Jimmy did something wrong, they would have to prove that Jimmy assaulted Anya. After half a year of him being dead, with no physical evidence to prove what he did except a pregnancy that they can’t prove was forced upon her.
Curly is not enabling his friend, and trying to sweep the situation under the rug, he is literally constantly trying to deescalate the situation. Curly doesn’t act like he’s just trying to make the situation disappear. When Anya expresses that she’s uncomfortable, she doesn’t even say out right that she doesn’t want to do his evaluation. Yet Curly decides to volunteer despite not really having the experience, and it also not being in his job description. After Anya tells Jimmy she’s pregnant, and she’s scared for her life, Curly goes to try and talk to Jimmy. He tries to get Jimmy to calm down, and to think rationally, he tries to keep Jimmy from acting out. and then Jimmy goes and crashes the entire fucking ship into an asteroid. Even if they wanted to imprison him, there was nowhere to put him. The only places that had locks were the cockpit and medical. We saw what happened when he was in the cock pit alone, and the last place he needs to be is the one place that Anya can really call her own.
When Curly says he’ll talk to Jimmy, that’s not him belittling the situation. He needs to stay calm and reassure Anya that he’s trying to help her. If Curly was immediately like “I’m gonna go kick his ass” or if he insisted on some sort of retaliation against Jimmy, then that would just stress Anya out more. There is no way to keep eyes on Jimmy at all times, and if he faces any punishment over Anya then she knows he will find a way to punish her for it. Aside from the fact that, I think Curly may have done whatever she asked, especially with the way he emphasized he’d do “anything” to help her when she first tells him that she’s pregnant. He informs her that he truly cares about her, her wellbeing is his responsibility.
Anya also seems to be way too forgiving for her own good. Even when she thought Curly tried to kill all of them, all she had to say was that she couldn’t believe that a person’s worst moments make them a monster. If she was willing to forgive what she thought was attempted murder, I’m sure she came up with every excuse in the book for Jimmy. I’m not saying it’s right, I’m not saying she deserved it. She didn’t. What she went through was fucking awful and horrific. But it’s in her nature to forgive people, even when they really don’t fucking deserve it. We don’t even know if she knew she was assaulted the whole time, since there’s a good chance that Jimmy manipulated her into thinking she deserved it/wanted it. It may be possible that she thought she deserved it, and was too ashamed to speak about it openly for a while, with only the feelings of disgust and shame to accompany her.
Let’s also take into consideration that Anya was not the only person Jimmy was abusive to. We saw the way he talked to Curly, especially at the birthday celebration. Jimmy was an abusive dickhead to everyone. The last time Curly tried deescalating the situation before the crash, Jimmy immediately started taking the stuff Curly told him in confidence and using it against him, to make Curly just as miserable as he was. Jimmy turned his own suffering into shared suffering because then he could tell himself that he wasn’t just trying to get away from his own actions, he was trying to HELP his friend, who was also suffering.
My point is, I think too many people are not thinking deeply enough about Curly, as well as the context on the entire situation. They are putting blame on him when he is also a victim of Jimmy. It was literally just an overall shitty situation
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☆┊MAY I HAVE THIS DANCE?
SUMMARY: many heroes wished to share this dance with you, yet you chose him.
CHARACTERS: HEARTSLABYUL
GENRE: fluff
OTHER: heartslabyul savanaclaw octavinelle scarabia pomefiore ignihyde diasomnia
NOTES: thank you for an entire year, tumblr! as celebration for my first anniversary, have a small mini scenario as a token of my gratitude.
reader is g/n, reader is yuu
PROLOGUE ☆˙∘
excitement fluttered within the confines of the classroom. a nationwide gala was being held this evening for students all over twisted wonderland, and this years selected host was none other than the prestigious night raven college. you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous with how everybody spoke of such an event.
even if dances weren’t your thing, it was still worth it to go, right? “myah.. what’s with all the blabbering? it’s just a borin stuffy ball, right? all ya do is stand around for hours. i can guarantee ya not everyone’s gonna have a dance partner.” grim huffs, beginning to grow annoyed with the gossip.
“well, there’s going to be food from all over the region. at least then we’d have something to do, right?” you grin, your partner in crime suddenly very excited for the dance. “why didn’t ya start with that?! we needa go prep our outfits right now!”
evening came sooner than you anticipated. as chaotic as nrc was, somehow this was 10x as lively as usual. everybody had spoke with someone new while you were stuck at the snack bar with grim. a new face appears, wishing to have a small chat.
🌹┊RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS∘˙✩
“so you’re the magicless prefect, hm?”
a young boy leaned on the table, his unexpected presence startling you. “and you are..?” you question, curious as to how he knew you. he looked unfamiliar, but you couldn’t help but notice his pristine and well dressed appearance. he was handsome, certainly.
“where are my manners? amias reinheardt, a pleasure.” he smiles, bowing slightly before you. “i have heard lots about you, meeting you in person is truly an honor.” the way he spoke so highly of you was flattering, it was almost too much. but all his praise leads back to the same question: how does he know you?
“it’s nice to meet you, but how do you know me exactly?” you ask, raising your brow. “you’re quite popular. my classmate neige had many things to say, i just had to meet you myself.” he chuckles, and suddenly it clicked. classmate? “you’re from rsa?”
“correct you are.” he chuckles. now it all made sense. he was surprisingly chatty, but not in an off putting way. it was actually nice having someone not stuffing their face anytime you tried to talk to them. however, your chatter and laughter caught the attention of a nearby redhead.
“riddle, calm down.” trey sighs, seeing as riddle grit his teeth from afar. “what are you on about, trey? i am perfectly calm.” unfortunately, riddle was not raised as a good liar. “just go up to them, im sure it’s fine.” the boy in glasses sighs, adjusting them so they don’t fall off his face.
“it’s rude to interrupt conversations, you know.” riddle frowns, crossing his arms. despite his attempts to act unbothered, his gaze would still find its way back to you. seven why must you do this to him?
maybe he should just go over there. why fight it if there’s nothing to gain but seething jealousy?
a slow song starts to play, students suddenly stopping and taking their partners to the floor. amias paused as well, looking to you with a small smile. “oh? prefect, shall we?” he holds his hand out to you, waiting for you to take it.
riddle, on the other hand, was not going to stand for that. “[MC].” riddle struts over, causing you to whip your head over in his direction. “riddle?”
“may i have this dance?” he puts a hand behind his back, bowing slightly while reaching out for you. “pardon?” amias interjects, looking to riddle then back at you. “i believe i had asked first.”
oh. taken aback by their sudden proposals, you had to take a moment to ensure this is reality and not some weird vivid dream you were apart of.
you hesitate for a moment before taking riddle’s hand. “im sorry amias..” you mumble, shooting him an apologetic look. “don’t be. maybe someday..” he trails off, watching as riddle led you to the dance floor.
“at least try to be more cautious around strangers, prefect. not all of them have good intentions.” he sighs, waltzing you around the ballroom. his movements were refined, not perfect but not imperfect either. he made sure not to step on your foot no matter how bad your dancing may be.
“oh come on, he wasn’t a bad guy. maybe you’re just jealous.” you laugh, his silence a clear enough answer for you. his cheeks were red, but it was far too endearing.
“i wouldn’t want to share this dance with anyone else, riddle.” you hold a firm grip on his hands as you spoke, unable to hide your own flustered expression in turn.
“..im happy to hear that, [MC]..”
❤️┊ACE TRAPPOLA˙∘✩
“you [MC]?”
you turn to find a short boy invading your personal space, taking a few steps back to get a clear view of him. “uhm.. yes? and you’re.?” you answer, confused. his outfit was a tad disheveled, like it was barely put together. there were wrinkles and folds in his suit, but he had an odd charm about him.
“alan. alan fletcher. upcoming star player for rsa’s basketball team.” he grins triumphantly, his expression almost cocky. “ohh, i have a friend in basketball!” you reply, making the boy flinch.
“what?! err i mean, i heard a lot about ya. popular dude from school talks about you sometimes.” he shrugs, like he was reading your mind. you were just about to ask how he knows you!
“well there’s not much to know about me.” you laugh awkwardly, fiddling with the ends of your sleeves.
“yeah right, you’re from a different world! cmon, talk about it! im curious. what’s different there?” he asks, leaning on the table. it’s been awhile since you’ve last got to talk about home. with all the chaos at nrc, you’ve almost forgotten you’re trying to look for a way back.
“i guess there are a few things.” you chuckle, causing the boys heart to flutter.
ace frowned from afar, an unfamiliar feeling of jealousy coming over him as he stared. “ACE, THATS WAY TOO MUCH PUNCH! STOP POURIN.” deuce yells, his cup overflowing and spilling onto the tablecloth.
ace looks to deuce. he was absentmindedly scooping punch into his cup without realizing it. “gah, we need napkins! professor crewel would kill us if he saw this.”
while deuce was fretting over the spill, rushing over for napkins or any cloth he can find to mask the spill, ace felt lost. has he always been this jealous over you? i mean, sure he’s given a few dudes the stink eye every now and then, but this felt different.
the song changed abruptly, everyone now finding a dance partner or stepping off the floor. alan looks at you, waiting for you to say something. you try to avoid his gaze, his stare beginning to grow unsettling.
breaking the silence, alan spoke. “hey, do you wanna—”
“yo! [MC]!” ace shouts, running over to you with a cheeky grin. “been lookin for ya. cmon, let’s dance!” he grabs your hand, pulling you towards the middle of the ballroom.
“what?! hey!” alan calls out for you, but by the time you turned around to apologize, he was already out of sight.
you frown at ace, to which he scoffs in return. “what?”
“that was a bitch move, ace.” you pinch his nose, causing him to wince in pain.
“OW! look, we can apologize later. shut up and dance for awhile!” he chuckles, spinning you around.
“thought you were gonna dance with deuce. you jealous?”
“..i said shut up dance.”
(deuce was pissed to see ace leave him with the stain but at least you’re having fun).
♠┊DEUCE SPADE∘˙✩
“are you the student with no magic?”
a boy in a tacky looking hat smiled at you, making you stare for awhile before finding his eyes. aside from his hat, his suit was quite.. eccentric. colorful, for sure. somehow it all tied together, but he would most definitely stand out in a crowd. “i am..” you nod slowly.
“the names thistle!” he grinned, holding his hand out. as you reach out to shake his hand, he pulls a rose out of his sleeve and hands it to you elegantly. somehow this guy reminds you of a certain somebody in pomefiore.. interesting.
“are you familiar with che’nya? i know he sneaks onto your campus at times.” he laughs.
“i see him at unbirthday parties. didn’t know he talked about me so often.” you chuckle, finding the thought flattering.
“he tells me you’re from another universe. care to talk about it?” he asks, resting his chin on his hand.
“hm.. to kill time i guess.”
deuce stared at you, his expression blank and empty. you were laughing and having a good time, he should be happy, right? why does his heart ache so much?
seeing you with a rose in hand and a huge smile on your face would be such a breathtaking sight if it weren’t for who was next to you.
ace took notice of deuce’s expression, or lack of thereof. he smirked and nudged him gently. “looks like the prefect is hot on the market.” Ace teased, a cocky grin on his face.
deuce shoots him a glare, suddenly frowning at his partner in crime. “shut up! they can talk to whoever they want! im not jealous.” he huffs, crossing his arms.
“i never said anything about jealousy. yeesh, lighten up.” ace holds his hands up in defense, backing away slowly. “if you’re really upset just go talk to em. im sure your presence is welcomed with open arms anyway.”
“you think so..?” deuce felt his eyes lighten up, his gaze averting back to you.
the ballroom crowded to the center, students finding their partners to dance to the slow rhythm. thistle looks at you, putting his hand out. before he can even ask, a loud shout from across the ballroom stops him in his tracks.
“[MC]!!” deuce sprints over, stopping in front of you while panting for breath.
“deuce?! where did you—”
“WOULD YOU LIKE TO DANCE WITH ME?” he asks in between breaths, eyes shimmering in a newfound confidence. realizing he sounded a little pushy, he finally regulates his breathing and asks once more.
“uhm— i meant uh.. may i have this dance.?” he holds his hand out, bowing slightly before you.
you look to thistle, he smiled and gestured for you to take deuce’s hand. before taking off, you mouth an apology before turning to deuce and bringing him to the center.
“you didn’t have to run, yknow. i would’ve turned him down anyway.” you laugh, noticing deuce’s stiff movements.
“s-sorry. i guess i was just scared.” his dancing was robotic, missing his steps constantly. he stepped on his foot, but you managed to pick up the slack.
“ah! sorry!” he mumbled an apology, to which you grin in return.
“don’t worry, we can work on your dancing together. how about next week?”
“r-really?”
“really. consider it a date.”
“A DATE?! oh, i mean— sure. sounds good!” despite deuce’s attempts to seem calm and collected, he couldn’t hide the dopey grin spread across his face.
♦┊CATER DIAMOND˙∘✩
“so it’s true! nrc does have a student without magic!”
a startling shout from your right catches you off guard, turning to meet a rabbit beastmen with a huge smile. he wasn’t really wearing a suit, more of a vest. it wasn’t buttoned up all the way, but you must say he had really nice hair. looked so smooth.. “uh, tadaa?”
“what’s your name?” he asks, looking at you intently. “what’s yours?” you asked in turn, putting a hand on your hip.
“woah, woah, i asked first didn’t i?”
“well you initiated the conversation.” you shrug.
“alright, alright. im timothy parker, and you are?”
“[MC], nice to meet you.”
“i’ve heard so much about you from a friend of mine! we should get to know each other! have you played 20 questions?” he was a quick talker, you barely had time to reply before he talked about something different.
“i think ive played before.” you recall, nodding your head. “cool! ill start then!”
cater watched you, two drinks in his hand held firmly within his grip. he wasn’t one for jealousy, but something about this guy doesn’t sit right with him. his expression was usually so well hidden, but he couldn’t hide his frown. riddle took notice of cater’s dismay and raises a brow.
“cater, the drink might spill if you hold the cup so tightly.” riddle sighs, catching the attention of the boy beside him. “whoopsies! sorry, riddle! got a little distracted, haha!” he tries laughing it off, but that only makes him less believable.
“is something bothering you?” riddle questions, crossing his arms while looking in the direction cater was staring at.
“nope! don’t worry about it, cay-cay is fine!” he gives riddle a wink before walking towards you with a smile. “[MC]! heyy!”
you turn to see cater approaching, flashing a smile before waving enthusiastically. “cater!” timothy looks over, his smile faltering slightly at the sight of a new face.
“timothy, cater, cater, timothy.” you introduce them to each other. both boys stay silent for a moment before breaking the silence with a few casual greetings and fake smiles.
“hii! names cater, [MC]’s bestie!” cater hands you a drink, to which you eagerly accept. “hello. im timothy.” he replies dryly, much different than the way he greeted you.
the conversation flowed normally, though you chose to ignore their obvious distaste for each others presence. such cheery guys choosing to hate each other instead of bond, it made you kinda sad.
the music shifts to a slow song, cater immediately looking at you with a smile. “[MC], wanna dance?” he asks before timothy could, not failing to see his frown. cater put out his hand, gesturing for you to take it.
you felt your cheeks warm up. you put your drink down to hold his hand as he takes you away from the snack bar.
“isn’t this fun!” he beams, waltzing around with you. “i should take a photo!”
“if you do, you should send it to me. we can have matching profile pics.” you laugh, twirling him around.
“that’s so cute! smile for the cam!” he holds his phone up, snapping a quick photo of you two together. he posts it quickly, putting a string of emojis on the caption before putting his phone away and spinning you both around the room.
your smile means the world to him. it always will.
he didn’t want a viral post, he just wanted to keep your smile preserved for all time.
♣️┊TREY CLOVER∘˙✩
“boo!”
you jump, turning to find a floating head beside you. that head looked familiar. “che’nya?”
“meow how’d you guess?” suddenly, in the blink of an eye his full body appeared. his outfit was definitely not up to dresscode, lots of patches stitched onto an already brightly colored vest. it does suit him, but it feels like you were flashbanged.
“just a hunch. did you need something?” you ask, only to be met with his usual catlike smile. che’nya looked somewhere, grinning mischievously before averting his attention back down at you.
“wanna see a trick?”
“uh, sure?” and with that, he pulls out a deck of cards. he gestures for you to take one before suddenly changing the deck into a full tea set.
laughing in amusement, trey couldn’t help his heart from singing. why did his damn friend need to tease him like that? he clenched his fist tightly, feeling a little embarrassed for being jealous like that.
“trey-trey, let’s take it down a notch! che’nya’s just playing!” cater reassures his friend, patting him on the shoulder. trey sighs, adjusting his glasses properly.
“i know.. i shouldn’t even be jealous. it’s not like we’re together or anything.” he laughs awkwardly, making cater tut in response.
“don’t you see the way they look at you? when they bake with you it’s more than just being a helping hand, yknow?” cater crosses his arms, causing trey to stiffen.
“huh?”
“enough chit-chattt, let’s go join their convo!” cater drags trey to the snack bar, actively ignoring his protests and obvious refusals.
the melodies of slow violin play across the ballroom, students around beginning to slow dance.
“now’s your shot! go!” cater shoved trey towards you with great force. trey nearly fell to his knees but he managed to find his balance before he embarrassed himself.
“GAH!”
che’nya smirks, pointing behind you. “what?”
“trey?!”
“[MC],” trey puts his hand out for you. “may i have this dance?” a small smile hinted at the corners of his lips, you swore butterflies began to erupt in your stomach.
“it’d be an honor.” you take his hand, leading him away to the middle of the floor.
trey was surprisingly good at slow dancing. much better than that time with the ghost bride. “taking dance lessons, clover?” you ask, laughing as he averts your eyes.
“i’d rather not humiliate myself for a second time, haha.” he chuckles, swaying you around.
“i was honestly a little jealous seeing you have a good time with che’nya.” he admits, in which you burst into laughter in return.
“whys that? im sure you know he was just playing?”
“you can never be too sure.”
“don’t worry trey, this dance was reserved for you.”
“that’s reassuring to hear..”
A/N: names for these NPCS were harder than the actual fic 💀💀💀
date published: 11/27/24
© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!
divider found here! ☆
#disney twst#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland fluff#twisted wonderland x reader#twst fluff#twst x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#ace trappola x reader#deuce spade x reader#trey clover x reader#cater diamond x reader#heartslaybul x reader#heartslabyul#riddle rosehearts#ace trappola#deuce spade#cater diamond#trey clover#yayyy#blog anniversary#first anniversary#dividers by dollywons#twst
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Could you store something with jun-hee (player 222) x f!reader plz🙏
Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby
summary - it may sound a bit cliché, but you were in love with your best friend. even though you always wanted to tell her, you strongly doubted that she could use your love - you didn't know that she thought the same. you two were really stupid, huh?
pairing: kim jun-hee x fem. reader
word count: 1.1k
contains: wlw, angst w/ comfort, arguing, fluff, pre squid game au, hidden feelings
a/n: i went to a cas concert a few months ago and it was insane. this was the song that just stuck with me since then and i thought about her when i listened to it again after watching the show! hope u like it ;p
"Oh man, they forgot our spring rolls." you realized disappointed after you went through each package of food one by one until there was nothing left but napkins in the bag. You looked at your best friend as you said. "Should I go to the store and get them? I know how much you like them, and I think the owner likes me, who knows, maybe we'll get an extra portion or something, huh?"
Jun-hee just shook her head with a gentle smile on her face. "That's all right. I want to eat with you and by the time you come back, the food will be all cold and mushy." she said, reaching for the chopsticks after opening her box of fried noodles.
You sat down on the opposite chair of your little dining table in your small kitchen. "I guess, I can't argue with that." you gave in and reached for a spoon to mix your fried rice a little.
You had turned on the radio a while ago and the music it was playing accompanied the pleasant silence between the two of you. You could hardly stop yourself from thinking about how homely this all felt right now with her, as you often did in the last few days. It was sudden and you were definitely caught off guard when Jun-hee suddenly appeared at your doorstep with a packed bag in tow. You didn't know exactly what happened, but you didn't need to because you could imagine that it probably had something to do with her parents or something - it didn't matter. She would tell you when she was ready.
"I heard that this one popular show is getting a second season soon, you know..." you started to tell her and then tried to think of the title when you suddenly heard a soft howl. You immediately stood up when you saw Jun-hee sitting huddled up with her arms covering her face. "Hey, what's wrong..." you asked worriedly, not used to such an emotional reaction from her since she was usually such a collected person. This was a very rare occurrence.
She interrupted you before you could say anything else. "I'm pregnant!" she cried out, feeling the lingering guilt inside her finally take over her entire mind as she uttered those words. A few minutes passed with you just holding her like that and Jun-hee clung tightly to you, sobbing. She was worried that you might let her go - in fact, she expected you to, which is why she didn't tell you for so long.
I can't blame her for anything, I really am the worst. She thought to herself when she still couldn't bring herself to let go. No matter how selfish it might be of her.
"Is it from that Mingyu guy?" you finally asked her and she nodded vaguely, but it was enough for you to understand. Jun-hee didn't even bother to correct you when you said his name wrong.
You just sighed and even if you didn't say it out loud, she could feel how angry you were with her - how disappointed. "You're mad at me," she stated while you continued to stroke her back reassuringly, even when the position you were holding her in was a little uncomfortable for you. "Of course I am, the guy's an asshole and you're only in your early twenties," you answered her honestly, comforting her with your own broken heart. "Does he even know? Last I heard, all his fans were sending him death threats because he stole their money or something."
She didn't even want to think about it. "He's not answering my calls and I have no idea where he is."
You let out another heavy sigh. "You're really stupid sweetie, I knew that guy was like this from the beginning, really," you spoke up before looking confusedly at Jun-hee after she lifted her head from your chest and met your gaze with a furrowed brow. "Can you stop rubbing it in my face? I already know that I fucked up!" she exclaimed, completely exhausted as she continued to rub her reddened eyes.
So she wants to keep the baby, her parents probably kicked her out as soon as they found out. You massaged your forehead, exhausted. "So, what now?" you just asked her, elaborating on your question when she looked at you with a confused look. You just wanted to kiss her right now and tell her that everything would be okay again and at the same time, you wanted to smash your head through a wall and cry. "What are you going to do now with a baby on the way? Do you have a plan for how you're going to look after it?"
I don't have a job or any money. I don't know what to do. She didn't answer you right away and just avoided your gaze, embarrassed, so you reached for her hand to get her attention. "If you don't know what to do and you want me to help you, then you have to tell me," you finally said and you were probably the stupid one this time.
Jun-hee looked at you in surprise and took a few seconds to really understand what you meant. "Are you sure? You don't have to do something like that for me..."
You interrupted her relatively quickly. "I want to do this for you because -" and your love confession was almost half hanging from your lips when you stopped yourself from saying it out loud in the last second. What am I doing? This is completely the wrong time for this. "- because you can always count on me, even if no one else does."
Oh, that's right. Jun-hee thought to herself as she held her pounding heart and smiled a little forcedly. I thought she was going to say something else, how stupid of me I mean you're pregnant with another man's child right now Jun-hee, wake up. She brought herself back down to earth. You already gave her more than enough. "Please, help me."
You spread your arms out again to catch her in a hug. "We'll work it out, don't worry..." you tried to reassure her further, any unspoken feelings remaining as you both made the decision to keep them a secret.
#x reader#x female y/n#x female reader#fanfiction#x fem!reader#squid game#squid game x reader#squid game fanfic#squid game 2#squid game season 2#squid game player 222#kim jun hee#wlw#lesbian#bisexual#lgbtq#squid game netflix#x you#squid game x you#fanfic#kim jun hee x reader#player 222 x reader
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Astarion loves to take baths with you.
It's one of his favorite ways to spend his downtime in general, honestly. Not only is the bath such a soothing place to be (you know once this man has the option, he's going to splurge on a vast collection of luxury soaps, oils, hair masks, and body scrubs- the list goes on.), but there's just something about it that makes him feel so normal? Mortal, almost.
If he lets himself soak just long enough, the heat from the water begins to nullify the vampiric chill that he's grown ever so used to. It's a pleasant warmth that works its way past pale skin- past tired muscles and aching sinew- and settles down deep into his very bones. For a few precious moments, he can convince himself that the eternal discomfort of undeath has made off for good this time.
And his hair always looks spectacular after wash day. It's a win-win scenario for him. So for his favorite person to be involved as well? Well, that just makes it all the more better.
-
This time, you're lounging on the floor nearby as he soaks- having stuck around after washing his hair for him as he oh-so-kindly requested of you. He's still a bit new at asking for small acts of kindness, so of course, you jumped at the chance to put your hands to good use. You were so careful not to catch your fingers on any snags as you worked a sweet-smelling soap through his wet curls, nails scrubbing away at his scalp even after it's all rinsed away just to hear him purr for you.
You're leaning against the bath, cheek cushioned against your forearm as it rests along the edge. The other swirls idly in the water- kept heated by clever use of prestidigitation (you'd recently picked up this cantrip for purposes such as this) and softened by the finest oils stolen gold could purchase. The curtains in your room are carefully drawn, and although your source of light comes from the multitude of candles scattered about, it's still enough to see the nice flush the heat brings to his skin. It's a little odd to see him so pinkened, and obviously, you can't help but stare no matter how hard you try not to.
It's the blood- your blood- that's pooling beneath the surface of his skin and giving him this radiance that many a man would covet.
Rose blooms a pretty bouquet on the smooth skin of his chest, up the length of his bared throat as he rests his head, and even reaches the tips of the pointy ears you so adore. Gods, even his knuckles are pinker when he reaches a hand out of the water to push his hair away from his forehead, and your gaze immediately follows the trail of soapy water as it glides down his wrist- drip-drops from his elbow and back into the bath.
Astarion looks so... peaceful like this.
Pale lashes rest upon warm cheeks as he reclines, face fallen soft, similar to how it does when he's deep in trance. A part of you wonders if this is how he might have looked back some two hundred years ago, before the affliction that was bestowed upon him by his old (now deceased, you celebrate mentally) master.
Eyes of ruby open just a crack, and you know that smug smile is coming before his lips so much as twitch.
"You know, my dear, most people consider staring to be rather rude." He purrs.
You're proud to say you don't miss a beat.
"Good thing you're nothing like most people then, hm?" Quick wit- a developing side effect from the many days spent traveling with the cheekiest rogue in all of Faerûn.
Quick as you may be– he is quicker.
"Ah, right you are. Most people aren't nearly as beautiful as I am– one can hardly blame you for all of your slack-jawed gawping."
A half-huffed laugh is pulled out of you. Astarion loves to pretend he isn't just as delighted by your glossy-eyed admiring as he is amused.
And here you are again, suddenly distracted by the slightest bounce of silver curls when he tilts his head to watch your smile hit your eyes. His hair looks a bit longer when it's weighed down by bathwater and conditioning oils, almost to the point where some bits just barely brush his shoulders. You're so mesmerized that you have to touch him. The hand that's been playing in the water comes up to brush a few nearly translucent hairs away from where they've stuck to the curve of his neck, lingering afterward to carefully trace a finger down to his collarbone as you continue your oggle-fest.
Only just a moment longer, you tell yourself, and then you'll leave him be.
Yet, he doesn't let you pull away too far when you've finished. A deft hand comes up from the depths to capture yours the second you think about leaving him to his privacy, and you nearly jump at the unfamiliar temperature of its grasp.
He's warm.
Almost warmer than you, and it's honestly kind of jarring.
Astarion's still sporting that smile, although a bit kinder than before. If you weren't watching so closely, you'd miss how his eyes flash, uncharacteristically shy for just a moment before that heavy-lidded stare is set back in place. He brings your joined hands up to his mouth, petal-soft lips resting against the damp heel of your palm in a not-so-kiss.
They press for a long moment, and you can feel the appreciative hum he gives more than you can hear it. It occurs to you that he's probably just as dazed at your matching temperatures as you are.
"Get in here, darling." The command comes out as more of a question, really. You know in your heart that you have every right to refuse him if you really want to and that he wouldn't even consider holding it against you if you did.
But why in the hells would you ever do a thing as silly as that?
#bg3#astarion ancunin#baldurs gate 3#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion headcanons#astarion#astarion fic#astarion fluff
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Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)
DC x Pjo
Part 12
______________________________
Present
"is that a ferry?" I ask, the hippocampus got closer and we saw something that said "Princess Andromeda", and the figurehead is a wooden woman tied to it
Princess Andromeda... Who?
Ah..
The wife of Perseus son of Zeus, she was to be sacrificed to Poseidon but Perseus saved her
How weird of her to have a ship, you personally, certainly won't step foot into the ocean after you were about to be sacrificed to it
A middle aged man scolds his three kids for jumping in the pool and points at a sign, a dog that looks somewhat human that looks like it belongs in the deepest pits of hell is in line for the buffet
You freeze up, is that an empousa?? A monster playing poker with a mortal human?
You look around and see variations of monsters and humans, seemingly happy in the cruise
What is this? Monster human united nations?
Don't get me wrong, you're not racist, it's just that monsters typically eat humans, so it's okay that you find it weird that a snake haired monster with poison blood is gambling with Jeff
(not Medusa, but gorgons)
"Is this a trap? A knockoff Lotus Hotel & Casino?" Percy scoffs
Annabeth holds your hand in a tight grip "Could be... But we don't know what it does, no one eat anything here"
"Lotus Hotel...?" You ask
Percy looks at you "Yeah... It's some magic hotel where time passes really slowly, like so slow, it's different for everyone, I met a guy there from the 70's and when I asked he said he'd only been there for two days, we felt we were only there for a couple of hours but it's actually been five days"
Oh shit.
"is... Is this hotel in Vegas?" You look nervous, Annabeth furrowed her brows "Yes, have you encountered it? It's dangerous and normal people wouldn't know how to get out"
"oh fuck... I may have been, no definitely, I should be older than I am right now, when my family and I were on a mi- vacation, I went inside this hotel, I was only there for like 20 minutes but they claimed I was gone for two years... I- holy shit. I was stuck in a hotel for two years" you exclaim
"how did you not know that was a trap? Have you not read the Odyssey? The lotus island and the lotus eaters?? I thought you were a fan of Greek mythology?" Annabeth asked
You roll your eyes "Well I'm sorry I didn't think a hotel was going to be related to a magical lotus island"
Tyson's face got sad "that scary... How you got out?"
"I don't know... All I remember was a pageant in the hotel, it was an event and- Oh." You stop
______________________________
Past
"Wow... This place is actually kind of nice" you look around the glistening chandeliers and observe the clamoring people
A servant smiles at you, seemingly ignoring your vigilante costume "Would you like a lotus flower? They're complementary"
It won't hurt you to take one right?
So you did.
"hey.. um where's the way out?" You ask
The smile on the servant's face doesn't drop "Miss it's so late out at night, you should return to your room"
"but I don't have a room-" you feel a key card in your pocket, you did have a room
So you go there, you enter the gigantic room, it was like for royalty, the sheets were so silky, the pillows were so soft, you opened the cabinet to find a set of clothes
Your suit is beginning to feel itchy anyways, you take a shower and put on the clothes, you find on the night stand a platinum card
What were you here for again?
You get out of the room, you hear people laughing
"you should go down there young lady! There is a pageant! There is this beautiful maiden, more beautiful compared to the others!" A man says, he was wearing clothing so old fashioned you'd thought he was from the regency era
Well, a pageant sounds fun!
In the hotel ballroom people were staring... Not at the contestants, well, yes the contestants, but one, one special lady
"Good evening LA!" She laughs
How captivating... , you think
She turns and sees you, she stops smiling "(Name)? What? What are you doing here?"
Did she just call you?
Oh gosh she just said your name!
"you're not supposed to be here!" She floats, yup floats and you're shocked, she grabs your hand and she walks you to the entrance of the hotel, the servants who were eager to help everyone was avoiding her gaze and now staying far from you
At the entrance she gestures you get out of the hotel, so you did
A bunch of guys approach you, you don't know who they are
A few minutes pass by
"guys what happened to the mission?" You ask
______________________________
Annabeth: why didn't you know the hotel was magic?
You: idk maybe because in the book it was an island?!
______________________________
@yunloyal @sirenetheblogger @00hellohello00 @spqce-bun @casspen-starlight @eyeless-kun @ghostdoodlen @ratchetprime211 @delias-stuff @sadslasher13 @ellaprime7 @wpdarlingpan @mountvesuvu @chinxinsomnia @nathaly36 @vanessa-boo @bat1212 @ceramic-raven @sweetconnoisseurgardener @dhanyasri @bella-wolf100 @shortnsweetsposts @roseapov @d3sperate-enuf @d3kstar
#dc universe#dcu#percy jackson#warmyanderepjoxdc#percy jackon and the olympians#percy pjo#yandere#yandere batfam#yandere platonic#yandere barbara gordon#yandere batman#yandere tim drake#yandere jason todd#yandere dick grayson#yandere damian wayne#yandere duke thomas#yandere stephanie brown#yandere cassandra cain
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Nikto's Commandments part 8! (and the first half of the Jealousy Duet).
I'll be honest, I got stuck with this one! For some reason I just couldn't get a good flow going and had to try writing this a few different times. I think it shows in the beginning, but I get the rhythm back towards the end.
Also, apologies if there are more errors than usual. I kind of powered through it and am too afraid I'm going to hate it if I try to read it over.
Anyway, please enjoy as always <3
Content: Jealousy, Acts of Devotion, Declarations of Love, Kissing
It’s your first mission since Nikto failed you.
(You may have forgiven him. He’s even accepted that you have, merciful as you are. But that doesn’t change the truth of what happened – that he failed you. That he left your side, and then almost didn’t return. You’ve forbade him from hanging himself with “almost,” but that doesn’t mean he can’t feel the noose around his throat.)
You’re long since healed and recovered under Nikto’s devoted watch. Nurturing may not come naturally to him, but he’d bend himself into any shape for your use. So, he made himself into your caregiver. Weeks of helping you sit up, walk, bathe… until you were back in the gym, right by his side, gritting your teeth through physical therapy.
A scar is all that’s left now, silvery and tender. The only sign that Nikto’s world nearly bled away on dirty concrete. A reminder of his failure, his disgrace. How could he possibly deserve a place at your side, when he couldn’t even protect you? When he thought, for even a moment, that vengeance mattered more than your life?
Still, he returns to your side. Because you told him to, all that time ago. Because he has so much to make up for after everything. And because you haven’t given him leave to be anywhere else.
(He prays that you don’t the only way he knows how. Through meals from his own hand while you grin, nipping at his fingers. Through tea shared from one cup. With fragrant products in your wet hair while you sigh. You haven’t told him he could be anywhere else, beckoning him into a bed bigger than the one on base, still tucking in close like one of you might fall off the edge.)
It’s not that he thinks you incapable now. He would never blaspheme that you are anything other than utterly competent. It’s just that every blink superimposes pools of blood over his vision, a strobe of you near death.
In his most selfish, private thoughts, he imagines taking you away from it all for good. Tucking you away warm and safe in the cathedral of your off-base apartment, where a god belongs, in their own house. He soothes himself on visions of devoting himself to you fully and wishes he were a prophet. But for all you’ve given him, visions of the future are not one of them.
You were eager to return to duty, nearly cornered O’Conor once you got final clearance from the doctors. Nearly shook him down for a new assignment – for the both of you. Even if he had reservations about sending you to duty so soon, an opportunity to keep Nikto and his temper away a little longer was too tempting. (The bruises Nikto left on his throat were long gone, but the memory clearly was not.)
And so here you both are, in the gym of an SAS base, sparring with Task Force 141.
“Oi, lass! Care for a match?”
“Bring it, MacTavish!”
Nikto stands back to observe as you and the sergeant square off.
The 141 has been cooperative, despite previous tensions with KorTac. You, Nikto, and Konig have managed to build a decent working rapport – though most of that work has been yours. Their captain seems to like your friendly personality and straightforward professionalism; their lieutenant has been cordial. But the two sergeants (especially the Scottish one) have taken a liking to you.
“Fuck!”
Nikto jerks as you get taken down on your bad side – no, it’s not your bad side anymore. You’ve fully recovered; he must remember that. Interrupting a sparring match would be unwelcome and unnecessary. Not just overprotective on his part, but disrespectful to you as well, as if he doesn’t think you can hold your own. Still, he balls his hands into fists as you struggle against the sergeant.
At least you’re laughing, breathless and curse laden as it is.
“She is okay, ja?” Konig asks.
Nikto grunts the affirmative, eyes sharp as he watches you knee MacTavish’s side. Good, he thinks proudly as you twist to get on top. You’ve been working tirelessly to improve your groundwork techniques, learning all the different ways you can use your smaller stature against bigger and stronger opponents.
“He is… friendly,” Konig continues.
Another grunt of agreement. Most people are with you. It’s a natural reaction in the face of divinity; to reach out to a smiling god. It worked on Nikto, anyone else would be helpless. It’s just the natural order of things like green grass, blue skies, or gravity.
There’s a pause that starts to prickle the back of Nikto’s mind. Disinterested as he may be in socializing, he understands how it works. A program that runs in his mind – body language, tone, inflection, facial expression. A complex algorithm that computes to emotion, conversation, feeling. It’s just not an equation that applies to him, or that he can apply to himself anymore.
And right now, Konig is trying to imply something. Nikto cuts his eyes to the side, meets Konig’s.
“Too friendly, don’t you think?” he adds.
Nikto snorts and turns back to the match – where you are just tapping out. MacTavish is unwinding his arm from your windpipe. You’re sat between his legs, back to his chest. A tough position to get out from in a fight. As you’re scooting away, the sergeant pats your hip, leans to say, “good match” in your ear. You shoot him a grin over your shoulder and then push to your feet, sauntering back to your own team.
“Whose turn is it?” you ask, wiping sweat from your brow.
You don’t see MacTavish’s eyes darting up and down your body, zeroing in on the sliver of skin revealed by your lifted shirt. But Nikto does.
“Mine,” Konig answers, stepping forward.
You smile at him, bump fists with him. “Kick his ass for me, yeah?”
“Ja.”
He shoots Nikto one last, pointed look before stepping onto the mat. But Nikto has no interest in watching his match. Not when you’re right in front of him, a sheepish look on your face.
“I can’t believe I lost like that,” you groan. “Guess I need more practice.”
“We will practice,” he promises.
You beam and knock the back of your hand gently against his.
Like an insidious weed, Konig’s observation takes root and sprouts. Sergeant MacTavish’s friendliness.
It’s almost like Nikto is hallucinating again – or perhaps that he has just stopped. A veil pulled away from his eyes. A creature camouflaged in the brush, his eyes skipping over the landscape until an irregularity in the pattern was pointed out to him. And now he cannot stop seeing it.
MacTavish saying hello to you first every morning, asking how you slept with a twinkle in his eye. He offers to accompany you to training sessions, often chooses you first for cross-team drills. In downtime, he’ll invite you to socialize (with the rest of the 141, sure) and always save you a seat or a spot. Usually right next to him.
And it is not that he doesn’t acknowledge Nikto or Konig. He is amicable with both, works well with either of them when paired up. But there is always a tilt to his mouth when he speaks to you, a lilt to his voice. A subtle incline to his shoulders that makes every interaction seem just that slightest bit intimate.
A week into the assignment, and he is touching you freely. First a hand tapping elbow or shoulder. Then an arm around the back of your neck. Platonic, commiserating. Within a day, that arm drops to your shoulders and he’s leaning the side of his head against yours, something a bit warmer than a hug.
One morning, he scoops you up in a hug, your toes nearly off the ground. You seem surprised, reciprocate with a pat to the back before you’re set down and offered a chair.
And the sparring… the sparring gets worse. Not just an exchange of blows and a chance to improve skills with a new partner anymore. It’s become a game of teasing you, joking with you. Tagging you with hits to coax you into going after him. Wrestling with you on the ground and dragging it out while he grunts and huffs against you.
And Nikto… Nikto burns.
This is not hell, he knows; but maybe this is some form of purgatory.
He has no place, no right to suffer. Knows that trying to claim you as his own would be like trying to cage the sun. It wouldn’t just be selfish; it would be heresy. You’ve already given him a miracle; you told him you love him. That is far beyond anything he could deserve, anything he could hope or dream or long for. To take after all that, to demand more of the time, attention, energy you pour into him like holy water…
And yet.
And yet he wants to claw his skin off when MacTavish winks at you. Wants to set the world on fire when that accent purrs “bonnie” or “hen” at you. An awful, deafening static scream fills the fractures of his mind when you smile at the sergeant, when you wish him a good morning or evening.
“How are you with a sniper, hen?” MacTavish asks one day.
You hum, glance over at Nikto. He’s been training you with his own rifle for months now – though it’s obviously been on pause since your injury. “Well, I’ve been working on it, but I definitely need some improvement.”
MacTavish crosses his arms, biceps bulging against the sleeves of his t-shirt. “I wouldn’t mind giving you a few pointers, if you want to come down to the range with me some time. Promise I’m a good teacher.”
You blink, hesitate. Then lightly, “Yeah, maybe!”
Nikto can’t hang himself on an “almost,” but he’s gutted on a “maybe.”
That night you come out of the bathroom frowning. There’s a furrow between your brows that you only get when you’re both frustrated and worried; if it stays, you’ll have a headache within the hour.
“Nikto?”
He glances up from the knives he’s polishing. You stop, eyes darting all over him, towel frozen in your hand.
“Hm?” he prompts.
You don’t answer. Instead, drop the towel carelessly on the floor and stride across the room. Towards him. He only just manages to shove his equipment out of the way by the time you reach him. And you don’t stop, climbing onto the hard desk chair he’s in, straddling his lap. Your fingers curl so tight in his chest straps that he can hear them creak.
He’s trapped as much by your gaze as your weight. Something swimming in the pools of your irises that he hasn’t seen in them before. Doesn’t know how to name or how to tame.
“What’s going on?” you ask.
He jerks back in surprise, but you’ve got a solid grip and there’s nowhere to go.
“Did I… do something?” you ask. “Or… or not do something?”
He stares. “What?” he asks, mouth gone suddenly dry.
Your eyes are still darting between his, like you’ll find answers playing peekaboo between them.
“You haven’t been right the past few days. Maybe even a week,” you explain. “I’ve been giving you space to tell me, but you won’t. And I’m sorry, I’m not trying to pressure you, but please just talk to me.”
Now his brows furrow. “I haven’t been…?”
You sit back a bit, assured that you have his attention – as if that isn’t guaranteed.
“You’re not eating the same. Didn’t even take the green beans I put aside for you,” you say. “You’re not sharing my tea or letting me wrap your hands. You keep leaving for a smoke in the middle of the night. Hell, you’re wearing your mask in our room.”
It dawns on him like apocalypse. That he has been worrying you, affecting you.
“And you’re not… you’re not talking to me.” Your white-knuckled grip eases a bit as you run out of steam, sadness tinging your expression. “I know we don’t talk the normal way but… I haven’t been able to read you. You won’t look me in the eye or press our legs together. You’re even pulling away in your sleep.”
His heart is trying to claw out of his ribcage, wants to crawl into the palm you press to his chest.
“So… if I’m doing something or not doing something… you can tell me. I promise I won’t be upset. I just miss you.”
He crumbles.
Weeks under torture, but he breaks at four words.
You gasp as he rips the gear off his face. Try to help, but he just pushes your hands away. Knows he’s aggravated the old wounds, but a balm is at hand, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.
“моя любовь,” he whispers fervently. “моя надежда. моя богиня.”
You curl around him instantly, arms around his shoulders, fingers fluffing through the fuzz of hair at the back of his skull. Gentle and kind and everything that sinners and saints would fall on their swords for. And yet all you ask of him is to speak, to confess.
“I fear,” he rasps into your skin.
“Fear what?” you ask.
He is your protector, your disciple. Yours to command, to damn, to sacrifice if you so wished – and he would gladly spill his corroded innards at your feet, careful not to bloody your shoes. And he fears that you won’t ask him to.
“You are not mine, but I fear losing you,” he admits. You suck in a breath, arms tightening around him. “If not to MacTavish, then to the world. I will be left here without you again.”
He squeezes his eyes shut as the scars sear all over again, crushes his crooked nose against your collarbone.
“I am yours,” he whispers, lungs burning, “and I cannot be that if you are gone.”
You shift, pressing closer, tighter. Lay your cheek on his head and squeeze him so tightly he wonders if you’re not inviting him inside your ribcage.
“I thought you understood,” you whisper, and even that cracks with emotion. “I’m sorry, I thought I made it clear. I thought you knew…”
You urge him back. He wants to resist. Wants to stay right there in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the soap you two share, basking in your warmth. But you are bidding him to do something, and he is a weak man to your command.
Your eyes are shiny, but there’s a smile on your face when you look at him.
“You’re mine,” you assure him, “you will always be mine. I will never turn you away.”
His eyes flutter with relief. Always. He has no business questioning the truth of that. You’ve said it; it is so.
“I’m yours too, Nikto.”
His eyes snap open again, but you hold him still, hold him right there.
“Our love isn’t a cross for you to bear,” you murmur. “I belong to you the same way – the exact same way – that you are mine.”
“I don’t—”
“You remember what I told you in that car all those months ago?”
Don’t deserve it? That’s not your choice. Don’t understand? You don’t have to. I just do. It wasn’t a choice I made.
Your word is genesis. It is revelation. It is creed and commandment, redemption and atonement.
You’ve said it; it is so.
“Here.”
You snatch a pad of black ink from one of the desk drawers, grab at one of his useless, hovering hands.
“What are you—”
You smear his bare fingertips across the damp pad. Then press them to your forearm. He jerks his hand back, but it’s too late. His smudged fingerprints stain your skin in inky little pools. When he looks up at you, you’re grinning. Wide and beautiful and so damn proud of yourself.
“C’mon,” you coo. “Do it again.”
He hesitates. But his eyes are drawn back to his fingerprints on your skin. His mind echoes with your declaration.
You are his. You are his.
To deny you this, to deny your belonging, would be beyond blasphemy. Beyond sin.
You have said it; it is so. You. Are. His.
You beam as he takes the inkpad and gets his fingers wet again. Begins leaving marks all over you. Along your arms, over your collarbone. Lean back to get palm prints on your thighs. Sits you on the desk to smear lines up your calves. You even tug your shirt up, giggling all the while, so that he can mark up your stomach.
He pauses at the gunshot. Places his blackened thumb over the entry scar. Pulls it away to see the whorls of his fingerprint covering it.
You soften, kind hands cupping his jaw and guiding him up. Up and up… until your plush lips are slotted against his. His own stained hands land on your hips – likely ruining your little sleep shorts – and pull you as close as he can get you. Infusing himself with the taste of you, of your love, of your belonging.
“Yours,” you murmur against his mangled mouth.
“Yours,” he repeats.
The next day, you walk into the mess hall with Nikto’s fingers hooked into your belt loops. There’s a single black smudge on your jaw.
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it's just love
pairings: natasha x reader
word count: 2.5k!
cw: oral (n! recieving), scissoring, internalized homophobia? (nat not knowing who she really is)
From a very young age, you knew you liked girls, you were never interested in talking about boys with your friends. You were awkward around them and didn’t know what to say. You once tried kissing a guy to see if you were just sprouting late, never again. You had one or two girlfriends from here and there, but there wasn’t much receiving through your giving. You’d be the one to put all the effort in, to show up and be present, and you were always left hanging. You told yourself when the time was right, you’d find someone.
Natasha had an idea of who she was, but growing up where she did, she thought it was wrong. As much as she tried to break through all the KGB ideologies, a few stuck, and unfortunately, the one that would limit her from finding someone to call her own.
She was strict with herself; some may argue that she was too strict, but she didn’t like to think so. Having a daily routine made her feel free and able to do what she wanted in the order she made for herself. She had never felt more free, getting out of bed at 6 am to go to the gym, shower, and then attend breakfast. She loved her routines… until she didn’t.
You showed up after a month of you being here, you started working out at the same times as her. She wasn’t a fan; she liked you and respected you, but there was something about you that made her feel uncomfortable, like an internal battle. She would often find herself on the treadmill, letting her eyes wander until they grounded on you, whether you were doing curls or crunches or squats, her eyes would be fixated on you. She would realise what she was doing and soon shake herself from her stupor before you noticed. Or so she thought.
You could always feel when Natasha’s eyes were on you. You yearned for it and relished it when your body would slightly heat up from her attention. Right now, Natasha was on the Stairmaster, and you were doing dumbbell squats. You could feel the molten stare of her eyes on you. Before she looked away, you turned to look at her, sending her a wink. Her eyes quickly averted from you to bounce around the room. You smiled, gathering your things and leaving.
The next day, Natasha made sure to take the treadmill facing outside the compound. You found it amusing. Little did you know, she watched you through the window’s reflection.
One afternoon, Natasha was sitting in the kitchen doing some work, so you decided to join her. “Hey Natasha!” you smile, sitting across from her with your book. She muttered a ‘hi’, looking down at her reports. You two sat there for at least an hour or two doing your own thing when Natasha got up packing away her things. “Do you want to go for a walk with me, maybe a coffee?” she asked, looking at you expectantly. “Yeah, sure, let me go get my cardigan”, you smile at her.
You two walked and walked and talked and talked. Natasha was telling herself it shouldn’t affect her; she was out of that place and shouldn’t care. Yet she somewhat found herself caring. “Can I ask you a question?” she asks shyly. “Of course” you smile at her. “How did you.. Like.. when did you know you liked girls?” looking down at her coffee. She almost didn’t expect you to answer, yet you did. The question took you off guard a little, until you realised that she was still waiting for you to answer. “I knew when I was little, my friends were going out with boys, yet I wanting to go out with them. I had zero interest in any of the opposite gender and still don’t,” you said, looking ahead of you.
You knew that it must’ve taken some courage for Natasha to ask you a question like that to keep looking at her; it felt almost cruel, especially when she was asking questions about her sexuality (you figured, anyway). “Didn’t any part of you tell you it was wrong?” she asked quietly. You stopped and then turned to look at her, “It’s just love, Natasha. I don’t know what you have been told, but love comes in variety, just like everything else. You really needn’t worry about what everyone else would say; if you stay true to yourself, you’ll find yourself happy, if not, then you will live a sad, miserable life.” you say softly, gently taking hold of her hand, to which she held tighter. “I’m trying to come to terms with it,” she says, looking at you once again. “When you do, you’ll know where to find me”, you smile at her.
That night, Natasha couldn’t sleep; her mind was too loud. She found herself reading poetry of all things, sapphic poetry. She was looking up pictures and watching videos of girlfriends going about their lives all in love with each other, and she found herself wanting that. Over the week, she ventured more and more into the media, absorbing all she could find and educating herself.
She was still hesitant, of course she would be, it would take some time to adjust to this ignored and locked away part of herself, yet the more she read into it the more and more freedom she felt.
Natasha decided she was going to take you up on that offer, she messages you, ‘I’ll be at your door at 6, be ready.’
When the time rolled around, she was indeed at your door at six sharp, holding a bouquet of flowers. You beamingly thanked her and placed the flowers in a glass on your dresser. Natasha took you on her bike to a nice little restaurant in the city, and then you went to get some ice cream.
Over the few weeks, Natasha and you doted on each other, it was nice, happy. You two would work out together, shower, eat breakfast, and then head to the city. You would bring her to the bookstore, where she would find herself looking through Emily Dickinson and Saliva Plath whilst you did your thing. She started to grow quite a collection of books too, thanks to you. She slowly grew to like reading, whenever she had free time, she would have her nose in a book. You two would sit in her or your room and read or sometimes watch a movie. Natasha felt more and more at peace at being in your presence.
You guys didn’t talk about that conversation you had in the park, you knew she was trying to come to terms with figuring it out, you weren’t going to pressure her into talking about it, that had to come from herself alone and unprecedented.
Early one morning, you met Natasha in the gym, as usual. She wasn’t doing anything though; she was sitting on the benches by the lockers, her hands locked in front of her, looking down at the floor. She heard you come in, and her eyes looked up to meet yours. “Are you okay?” you ask her, coming to sit next to her. She turned to face you, her hands taking yours, intertwining your fingers. “Just let me,” she whispers, looking at you and slightly nodding. Your heart felt as though it jumped into your throat as she inched further and further towards you. First, you felt her lips lightly brush against yours, then you felt her hands holding the back of your head, pressing herself further into you. Your eyes fluttered, your hands moving to hold her arms circling your neck. Her lips were slowly moving against yours, sensually exploring you. You dared to slip your tongue into her mouth, earning a slight whimper in response. You kiss her back, aching to have her in this way, all those looks shes been giving you, made you want her all the more. Her delicate lips work against yours, her own tongue pressing against yours. The kiss turning sloppy as you both try to absorb all each was willing to give.
Pulling away, most reluctantly, you whisper “Nat.. are you… Are you sure, I mean?” taking her face in your hands, thumbs slightly stroking her cheek. “Yes, I want to try,” she says, pressing her lips back to you. “Try as in?” you ask against her, holding her hips as she came to situate herself on your lap. “Yes,” she whines, her hips lightly rolling against yours.
“Natasha, listen to me. Are you sure you want to? I don’t want to seem to push you into this.” She looks at you, smiling softly. “I do. I’ve been thinking about it, and I want to,” she says. “Your room or mine?” you ask, standing up and holding her against you. “Yours,” she whispers, softly pressing kisses to your heck, her hands wrapping around you.
You’re quick to return to your room, softly depositing her on your bed. The sight of her in your space makes your heart melt. She’s quick to pull you down atop her, her arms bracing you against her. You slowly kiss her, trailing your hands up her body. She sighs against you, taking your hands and pushing them onto her chest. “Touch me,” she says hotly in your ear. “I want this. You won’t hurt me,” she continues. Your mouth moves to her neck, softly nipping at the skin, soothing it with your tongue.
Her sighs and whines feel like music to your ears. You pull her shirt off, working at the sports bra she also had on. “So pretty, for me?” your mouth is quick to attach to her nipple, softly stroking your tongue over it, she nods. Your fingers rolled the other nipple, softly pinching it. Her hands scraped through your hair, her hips rising to work against your thigh. “Oh, that’s good”, Natasha whimpered. Slowly working over her, you switched to the other one, licking and sucking. “Please, more, please.”
“So needy,” you whispered, slowly working at her shorts. She slightly raised her hips further, allowing you room to pull them off. She wore nothing beneath the shorts, which made you groan. “Oh Nat, you’re killing me here”, you mutter, pushing your fingers through her folds. She was so wet, you nearly came right there and then. “Fuck” she sighed, shivers running down her body. “Tell me what you want me to do to you,” you tell her, wanting her to guide you through this time. “Mouth, please use your mouth!”
“Yes ma’am” you smirk, you take your time travelling down her body, pressing kisses to her stomach, kissing her scars. “You’re so damned beaufitul” you whisper to her, she whines, trying to push your head down to her centre. “And so impatient” you laugh, kissing her clit.
You languidly lick your way from her enterance up to her nerves. “Taste so good” you murmur against her.
Her noises are to die for, shes whining, moaning, whimpering below you. “Oh fuck, that feels so good” she cries, gripping your hair. You fingers come to press against her entrance, slowly pushing into her, your tongue working double time with her clit. “Oh yes, fuck, keep doing that!”she sighs. Smirking against her, your fingers start to speed up, coming to add another in her sopping cunt.
Your tongue alternates between licks to slow suckles. Her body started to shake, her hips coming to buck against you frantically. Your fingers continue to bully her walls as she reaches closer and closer to her high. You could feel yourself starting to ache watching her come apart beneath you, makes you feel some type of way you couldnt quite describe. “Cum for me Nat” you say, trying to work your fingers at an increased speed, curling them into her.
She cries above you her orgasm hitting her hard, her back arches and her thighs tremble as she releases on her fingers. “y/n! Fuck!”
You continue your ministrations, letting her ride out the throes of her orgasm. You slowly take your fingers out, rising up to her. She takes your hand, sucking your fingers of the remaining essence of herself. You groan, feeling her lips around you. Pulling your fingers out of her mouth, you press your lips against her, your tongue working its way into her mouth. She returns it with equal fevour, tasting her self on your tongue.
You gasp when she rolled you underneath her, kissing your neck. “Nat, you, dont have to” you sigh when she licks that sensitive point behind your ear. “Can I try something?” she asks, pulling away from you to look you in the eye. “Uhuh” you nod. She quickly undresses you. You watch her looking at you, the intensity of it all made yout insides feel molten. You had no idea of what she was going to do. But the minute she spread your legs, your head fell back in a groan.
You felt her pressing your centre against yours,”Oh” you smirk up at her. She laughs and adjusts her legs, the movement sending a ripple through you. You both moan when she begins to move, grinding aginst hers, the sound is downright shameful as your hands push and pull her hips against you, bucking up to apply more pressure between the two of you. She pulled one of your legs up so your ankle is resting on her shoulders.
The newly adjusted position has both of you panting and moaning, rutting against each other. “God keep going,” you cry when she comes down to suck one of your nipples into her mouth. The added stiumulation making you shiver, your spine feels hot as she works your body like never before. “I’m so close,” Natasha whines against your chest, circling her hips at a renounced speed. “Me too baby, cum with me,” you reply, crying out when she lightly bites your chest.
Natasha’s mouth detaches from you as her mouth hangs open in a silent moan, your hands continue guiding her hips as lightning rains down you, sending you into a spiralling storm of pleasure. You feel white hot as you feel natasha release all over you, gripping onto her for dear life.
You guys don’t know how long you stay like that, until Natasha detaches herself from you and rolls to the side of you. You huff turning to face her “Are you sure that was your first time with a girl, because like wow,” you laugh. “I’ve been researching” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “Natasha Romanoff, are you telling me you’ve been watching lesbian porn” You giggle when she throws a pillow at your head. “Shut up!” she says worming her way into your arms.
“Does this mean i can ask you out on an official date now?” You whisper into her ear. “Yes, i think it does” she says kissing your shoulder.
welp, i lowkey hate how this turned out 😃
#m:works#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x you#natasha x y/n#fanfic#marvel
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Nicola and Luke are ABSOLUTELY TOGETHER and have been all along and here’s how I know
(Friends, I’ve just finished this and it is INSANELY LONG. Like, two looong book chapters long. But I PROMISE it’s worth it. I was gonna cut it into multiple parts to make it more readable, but I’m going to be super busy over the next few days, so I wouldn’t have a chance to post subsequent parts until probably Christmas, so I’ve decided to drop it all now so I don’t delay the final victorious conclusion. Sorry, it’s so long, but I don’t really have time to rethink it and try to tell the story in a more concise way. Again, I think you’ll be glad you stuck with it if you want to feel as thoroughly confident as I am that Nic and Luke are absolutely together.)
So I want to start by saying something I’m sure I’ll repeat. This is, of course, just my opinion and supposition based on the evidence available to me. But I also want to say, I am absolutely, positively sure now in a way I have never been. Genuinely not a doubt in my mind, and I think you’ll agree by the end of this.
It’s also worth noting that this may be nothing new to some of you. I’ve only been on this platform for a week and have barely scratched the surface of the great content here. So this is how *I* came to the final, joyful conclusion that everything is right with the world where lukola is concerned. I had long been sure they belonged together, but was afraid to embrace the theories about them actually being together now for fear of heartbreak, plus all the confusing signals about A & J, etc.
But all that changed a couple nights ago when I finally got the last piece of the puzzle I needed to see the big picture. There were just too many things that didn’t make sense, until they did! I literally couldn’t sleep that night (seriously only got about 2 hours) and then spent next day telling my husband the story for hours (in 20-30 minute increments as he could spare them during his slow, Christmas time work day).
My husband has been a patient, long-suffering skeptic through all of this. He’s put up with my rants and constant videos I just had to share, but he’s been completely convinced from day one that they simply leaned into their friendship to turn on faux relationship vibes for PR. He was absolutely sure it was all just make-believe for the fans. No matter what I showed him, he could not be convinced.
Until yesterday. Yes, I convinced the toughest skeptic in town.
I think it’s important to start with my journey into the Lukola fandom for context. I was a casual Bridgerton watcher until this season, and had never read the books. I liked season 1, I loved season 2, and I was looking forward to watching season 3.
I had planned to wait to watch the first 4 until the second half was about to launch (so I wouldn’t have to wait for more), but I realized after about a week that we needed to watch it immediately before everything was completely spoiled by timeline gifs and clips.
Needless to say, I was beyond hooked. Instantly. Season 3 was another level for all the reasons you all know. Finally I could engage safely with the fandom, but the process from occasional Polin/Lukola content to nonstop immersion took some time. So even following the second half, there was a TON of footage I hadn’t seen.
All of this to say, I basically missed all of the World Tour stuff as it was happening, and it took well into the summer to finally see so many amazing clips and edits that I was absolutely fucking sucked into the lukola wormhole. However, I was well behind many of you on the curve, and even to this day, I’m still catching up on things.
But by late summer, I was all in. I was sailing high on USS Lukola (or I suppose that should be the HMS Lukola!) because I saw exactly what you all saw. This was clearly real, their feelings were indisputable, and everything about their behavior and much of what they said was so far beyond PR, even “faking couplehood” PR.
They were real. Even if he had this dumb girlfriend. (I say that only in the good-natured, abstract sense that I wanted him with Nic, not in a personal “actually about her” sense. In fact, I’ve never said anything hateful about either A or J and I hope I never will.)
WHY AREN’T THEY TOGETHER???
I couldn’t resist the mystery.
It drove me absolutely crazy for months trying to understand why they weren’t together. Nothing made sense, but I mentally explored literally every possibility. They’re afraid of ruining their friendship? They’re afraid of disrupting the production if it goes wrong? These possibilities at least made some kind of sense and seemed to be the only explanations I could find. But in my mind, they weren’t good enough reasons to resist what these two so obviously had. Still, I’m not them, so that was easy for me to say. I had nothing to risk in this.
One or both of them is/are secretly gay? Soulmate besties instead of soulmate lovers? I didn’t think this was the case and nothing made me believe this. Yet, I was attempting to allow for every possibility. Still, with Nicola being the super vocal “gay icon” that she is, it was hard to imagine she wouldn’t live out and proud if that was the case. And apparently she lived with an unknown man for two years. Though she does always keep her private (romantic) life super private, so I suppose who knows? And, of course, Luke had two very public past relationships with women, but again, who knows, I suppose? This option doesn’t ring true at all, but it does exist in the universe of possible explanations for this inexplicable situation.
They love each other in a soulmate way, but somehow one of them just isn’t “attracted” to the other? Certainly, if the stories about Antonia were true, that might suggest that Luke might be attracted to an entirely different physical type than Nicola. But that didn’t ring true either because LOOK AT THEM TOGETHER! He can’t take his eyes off of her, let alone his hands. And the same for her. They are magnetized to each other. If that’s not attraction, what is?
One of them has baggage and isn’t ready for a real, serious relationship? This one seemed possible. People can have hang-ups or wounds for all sorts of reasons, and letting someone in – especially someone who might actually be your soulmate – can be terrifying. Self-protection by avoiding relationships and/or distracting yourself with less meaningful relationships is a natural way of coping with baggage. Yes, maybe this one? Neither of them seems obviously wounded, but what would I know? Most people don’t wear their wounds on their sleeves, least of all during a PR tour. Still, the energy flow between them seemed anything but wounded. It seemed like the healthiest, happiest thing in the world.
People kept saying, they’re blind and they don’t see it yet. But I don’t believe anyone can be that blind. Especially after watching all the countless edits and clips of their tour, which we know they did because Nicola is chronically online and sharing with Luke the best of it all (and sneaky Luke is likely lurking also).
So at the end of the day, I had no good explanation. It just kept not making sense.
Then those music festival photos of Nic and Jake (I’ll abbreviate sometimes for ease, but I do say their names) showed up. The fandom erupted into chaos with full reactions across the spectrum including a bizarre, almost immediate burst of (not yet named) jakolas, which felt like a disproportionate response to a few photos.
Admittedly, those photos did look quite friendly, and touchy, and yes, they stood arm-in-arm. But lots of friends stand like that at concerts. And Nic is known to be touchy-feely, so let’s not go overboard, I thought. However, I did acknowledge (in my head, I didn’t weigh in online at all) that it suggested that it COULD be romantic. I opted not to freak out, because either way, Nic’s love life is her own and I want her to be happy.
And it’s worth saying here that both of their private lives are none of my business, none of any of our business, and even writing this is completely at odds with that truth. I acknowledge that. But what I told myself, and actually meant it, was that I was going to stay out of it unless and until NicLuke got together. That was the only place I would invest my energy since they’ve both said they think it’s sweet that fans ship them. If they dated others, good luck to them. Be happy. But when the time comes…
Yes, friends, the time has come!!! But back to my story.
Note that (because again, I was still catching up), I hadn’t yet seen the swimming in Sorrento photos and had missed that piece of the puzzle at that point. Throughout this time, I’d see people refer to things on Twitter like everyone already knew what they were talking about, but hardly anyone ever took the time to explain. So I got lots of glimmers of things that others felt were notable, without actually knowing any details. Those pictures were an example. Another was the Claddagh ring.
I’m very grateful to some amazing deep dive blog entries by @threeacttragedy that explained the ring, “Bless the Telephone,” and other meaty, important history that I’d previously only heard mentioned in passing. In fact, one of her blogs is what first brought me here by referral from Twitter. And if you don’t follow her, you should!
In the past week, as I started reading blogs that broke down past dates and clues, I finally started looking them up one by one and trying to put the pieces together in my head. I’d seen the swimming photos by then, but I revisited them. I dug in to try to understand the references to a “New Year kiss” from the night the friend group (Rory, etc.) posted photos together from a Soho House party. I reviewed Hot Boy Summer, I rewatched the incredibly emotional video of Luke meeting Nicola’s mom, I looked at photos of the Claddagh ring and went to Chupi’s website. I learned about the LA photos from April, both Antonia’s version and the InStyle Polaroids. I reviewed all the photos of Luke and Antonia that I could find. And I reviewed all the photos and videos of Nic and Jake that I could find. Also, I listened to “Bless the Telephone” about one hundred times. Lol.
Regarding Luke and Antonia, I had the same response in this deep dive I’ve had every time. Weird. I mean, if I didn’t feel so strongly that Luke was in love with Nicola, and if I knew nothing about him except he was some hot actor, could I see him dating someone like A? Sure. But the fact that there are almost no pictures of them posing together, alone like a couple, is weird. Even if it’s super casual and she was just his date to some stuff. The fact that Luke looks grumpy in both sets of pap photos (premiere night and swimming in Sorrento), but A is smiling happily in at least one of the premiere night photos is weird. The fact that after the Sorrento pap photos, Luke seems to leave his friend group to come home early, and then stops liking any of his best friend Rory’s photos from there on, weird.
The fact that in the fall, she posts pictures harkening back to a place and time they were apparently together, but without any actual photos together, weird. And the continual drip, drip of Likes from Luke is weird. And then when a photo of Luke in a restaurant in Rome is posted by the restaurant, she immediately follows with a video story of someone making pasta in the same restaurant, weird.
Perhaps weirdest of all, the fact that she pre-posted the LA pictures, and then he gave other versions of the same shots to InStyle. Especially the switching seats thing. If my husband and I were taking pics of each other at a café, I’d take his picture in front of the traffic, and he’d take my picture in front of the restaurant, because that’s where we’d be sitting. Across from each other. So why switch seats to take the photos? It’s not like that street with traffic was such a fantastic backdrop that we’d each need our turn with that shot? And they’re the same, with the same table number, but different. Sure, traffic moves, but weird coincidence that they each had a white truck, but a DIFFERENT white truck. So, like I said, weird. Always implying they were together, but never actually saying/showing it. Weird.
I read all sorts of theories from pragmatic (we just have to accept that they’re dating) to hateful (they’re not together/never were, but she’s obsessed and keeps inserting herself in a pathetic, desperate plea for attention and followers) to seemingly far-fetched (some sort of NDA that means for some reason Luke is obligated to Like her photos). Only the first of these seemed plausible. I maybe didn’t like it (not maybe, I didn’t like it at all), but I thought, “Yes, I guess we just have to accept that they’re probably together until they tell us otherwise.”
(Though I held out a small sliver of “but we don’t know anything for sure until L and/or N tell us themselves” hope, which remains true even as I write this.)
Now, let’s talk about Nic and Jake. First, there were those shots from the concert (discussed above). Then, I believe, were the NYC shots (if I’m not confusing the order). In the NYC shots, they were both there, but they weren’t especially intimate in any interpersonal sense. Then, the pap shots on the street posted on DM, ostensibly catching them walking home together, holding hands and arm-in-arm after a night at the pub. With those photos came an onslaught of fandom fury and gossip site reporting about how “Nicola Coughlan confirms her relationship…” Same story runs across a bunch of trashy sites, all saying the same thing and citing an unnamed source talking about how besotted they were, or whatever the quote was.
Admittedly, I was among the furious fans. Not because of what the pictures showed. Again, I was trying to be serene and Zen about them and their private lives. I believed with all my heart that NicLuke belonged together, but if now wasn’t their time, I’d have to wait. I didn’t love that I’d heard he was only 24, but I was trying to balance my efforts to be a non-judgmental person with my discomfort over that issue and reminding myself that her choices are none of my business (unless she chooses Luke!).
So I did my best to refrain from judgment, even as I saw the fandom erupt into toxic madness about whether it was true, whether he was gay, whether the age gap was wrong, whether DM lied about the date, and if they did (which they did), why? But I figured, unless the photos were very, very old, things weren’t likely to have changed in their relationship over a couple weeks, so I wasn’t overly concerned about the date.
However, I was angry about all these stories (basically the same story across the board) announcing that she’d “CONFIRMED” the relationship. It made me very angry that they said she confirmed something when she’d done nothing of the sort. I wasn’t prepared to argue that she wasn’t dating Jake at that point, but why would they all run this story, with this headline, when what actually happened was a paparazzi photographer snapped shots and sold them, then the media drew conclusions from what they saw?
Nicola never confirmed a damn thing. So why were they running this headline so universally?
I was also angry that the photos existed at all. Photos in her neighborhood could reveal her location and put her safety at risk. Also, how did they happen to be there to take those photos late one specific night? Felt like they must have received a tip. But I moved on and forgot about that part.
Time went on and I saw more and more discussion of Jake’s sexuality. I don’t really want to get into that here because I don’t really feel comfortable speculating about anyone unless they choose to explicitly come out, but I did finally start poking around his page, Douglas’s page, etc. and began to understand why people were saying what they were saying. However, I reminded myself that bi/pan-sexuality exists and I wasn’t willing to partake in bi-erasure, so I held my tongue and kept watching.
Now, at this point, I want to remind us all that Nic has always been extremely private and uttered nary a peep in public about her romantic/sexual life. And fair enough. It’s none of our damn business. Also, she’s talked extensively about how women are not just men’s girlfriends and her feminist take on many things and how it doesn’t feel nice to know that people are more interested in her love life than her work. She’s worked freaking hard to achieve the success she’s now enjoying, and she certainly should not be reduced to a woman in a relationship. No matter who is on the other end of that relationship.
(Again here, I feel the need to acknowledge my hypocrisy in writing this, but I really do genuinely love Nic’s work and spirit and activism, etc. as well.)
So, in light of her position on all of that, we wouldn’t expect her to go public with a new love interest. The fact that she was papped with this guy (if indeed he was a love interest) was just an indication of how much her celebrity and profile have grown. There’s greater interest now and she’s more recognizable now, so it’s to be expected that she’d have a harder time keeping her love life private now than in the past. Not so strange then, that she got caught a couple times in paparazzi photos at this point.
However, would she really then go public with that guy? That would mark a radical change in her behavior just when you’d think she’d want to be the most private because the glare of the spotlight is brighter than ever. Still, she allowed a public photo with him, Camilla, and Evan Ross Katz to go out shortly thereafter. If one believed they were dating, that could certainly be interpreted as a launch. Yet, as I said, would she really do that if she were dating him?
Then he started popping up everywhere. I won’t get the chronology here right because I don’t want to research the dates right now, but there was the Charlie xcx concert, in which she appeared with Jake and Dylan, who is out and proud. The Queer premiere where he was just caught in the background of a fan photo. The simultaneously released photos from the red and gold restaurant (with a mysterious third person taking the photos). There was the apparently brunch-time photo of her with Jake and two others, taken by Dylan. And most recently, Louisa’s photo with Jake and Douglas (who is also openly gay and close friends, if not more, with Jake).
I’m not mentioning all the players in all of these because it’s not critical to the story, and I may be forgetting some photos, but there is a point to all of this. First, there’s potentially a notable shift in what she’s allowing to be shared here. Again, historically, she’s never shared anything about her love life. Suddenly, she’s letting him be photographed everywhere. Also, at most of these events, there were other queer participants and/or queer content (the movie premiere).
And while she’s never allowed her romantic life to be shared, you know what she has often shared? Photos with all of her platonic friends, including her huge friend group of many, many gay men. So this trend in what she’s allowing to be shared suggests that she’s telling a story and clarifying Jake’s role in her life.
But then there’s that one mystery release, the simultaneously timed restaurant photo drops. Clearly coordinated, clearly indicating they were there together. No indication about the third party. Why? Just enough to hint that there might be something going on, and to continue wreaking havoc in the fandom.
Because remember that toxic fandom bickering over all of this? The jakolas swearing they’re in love and soon to be engaged and furious at the lukolas for “being blind and refusing to accept the truth and it’s so disrespectful to Nic ('who you claim to love') by disregarding her feelings and treating the love of her life so badly. They keep showing you they’re in love and you won’t listen!” Etc., etc.
Meanwhile, the lukolas fall into a couple camps. By this point, most have decided Nic and Jake aren’t dating, but some remain circumspect. Some scream back at the jakolas, ostensibly in defense of Jake, saying very similar things about “Jake and his friends are doing everything in their power to show you the truth and you refuse to see it.” And a variety of other responses. Everyone’s mad at everyone.
And all of it, every bit of it, keeps us ALL talking about Nicola Coughlan and Luke Newton. Nonstop, every day.
Now, we are nearing the big mic drop of all of this, and I want to say at this point that we need to remember that Nic and Luke are HUMAN BEINGS who have a right to privacy. And they are celebrities living in a world that has an intense interest in their love lives. And sometimes, we might not feel good about the measures they must take to protect their privacy. We might hate those measures. We might feel manipulated, and we are. But if we love and respect them as much as I hope we all do, we can also understand and forgive them for taking such measures.
A quick review of important factors in all of this:
THINGS THAT TELL US IT’S REAL
The Galway trip and that very emotional introduction to Nic’s mom, which looked for all the world like a woman meeting her future son-in-law
The Claddagh ring and how she’s been wearing it
The things reporters, cast, and crew have said in passing and/or posted, not to mention recent open shipping from Ryan Wheeler and Shondaland’s IG
Everything we saw with our own eyes on the world tour, not to mention everything we’ve seen in the BTS
Little droplets of NicLuke over the recent months like Bless the Telephone and (not yet mentioned above) the S4 selfie and the photo of them in costume that Nic said she thought she’d shared, but now it’s ours (while she hasn’t posted any Jake)
The absolute consistency of all of this as a story that makes sense
THINGS THAT MAKE US DOUBT IT’S REAL AND/OR KEEP US GUESSING AND DISCUSSING
The premiere night pap photos (and though I didn’t mention it earlier, the fact that Nic went home that night so she wasn’t around for A’s attendance)
The friend group photos at Soho House with Luke, A and others
The weird LA InStyle photos
The Sorrento swimming photos
The multiple sets of pap photos of Nic and Jake, including grainy night-time neighborhood photos (with a woman walking a dog in the background)
The way every gossip news outlet ran the same “Nicola confirmed her relationship” story with the same headline and the same anonymous quote
The weirdly devoted, intensely defensive jakolas/Jake stans that seem to care about nothing but Jake/jakola out of nowhere and love screaming at and stirring up shit with lukolas
The chaos and constant discussion of all of this over the past 6+ months
The absolute inconsistency of any of this with anything in the top group
So, this mystery just gets deeper and deeper, and none of it makes sense. Every time I’d try to accept that they were just seeing these other people, something would bump in my head. There were just too many weird things that didn’t quite make sense and the biggest, weirdest one of them all was that NICOLA AND LUKE ARE CLEARLY IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER.
So while the pieces would always almost fit, the puzzle never quite took shape. Until two nights ago when I stumbled on @lukolafan ’s page after they liked one of my posts. I scrolled down their page and found a link labeled “Lukola PR Strategies and Fake Narratives.” I cannot scream this loudly enough. GO VISIT THAT LINK!!!!! (I’ll add the links myself later if I have time.)
I did and it led to a series of Reddit posts taking an academic approach to teaching us, the general public (and lukola fans) PR Media Literacy. Among the various topics it discussed were things like:
“PR Firms and Entertainment Media: Coordinating “News” Across Gossip, Entertainment, and Official Publications,” which talks about using anonymous sources, more about staged paparazzi, and repeated narratives (“outlets echo identical stories, reinforcing PR-approved messaging, for example, multiple outlets platforms describing a celebrity ‘rising above’ a controversy, quoting the same anonymous insider” – Sound familiar?)
“The Invisible Hand of Celebrity Privacy: How PR Fabricates Narratives and Manipulates Fans,” which includes ways that PR strategies intentionally manipulate fans to fight/debate celebs faking relationships, and more (sound familiar?)
There’s honestly so much meat in all of these (there are a couple others as well) that they are ALL worth reading. There is definitely some repetition, but still, the content is super insightful and revealing and can help us all be more savvy consumers of media.
But I want to focus on two CRITICAL posts, in particular.
“The Role of Staged Paparazzi and Gossip Outlets in Celebrity PR Campaigns”
The first part of this piece talks about the method for staging fake paparazzi photos to create narratives. Two items of particular note (and I’m excerpting directly):
Quality Control of the Image: While professional photographers use high-quality cameras, staged paparazzi photos are intentionally manipulated to appear grainy or blurry. This adds a layer of authenticity to the photo, making it look as though the photographer stumbled upon the celebrity by chance.
Extra Figures in the Background: Another key tactic in staged paparazzi photos involves the use of background extras—people who might be walking with dogs, pushing strollers, or simply in the vicinity.
Think of Nicola’s photos walking home with Jake, a woman walking a dog behind them. Some of them are clear, but some are quite grainy, despite the fact that professional photographers have great equipment and are more than capable of taking a night-time shot.
Another excerpt…
Gossip Outlets: DeuxMoi and the Symbiotic Relationship with PR Firms
With the rise of user-generated content and anonymously submitted tips, gossip websites have become integral to the modern celebrity PR machine. Sites like DeuxMoi thrive on rumors and speculation, providing a platform for fans and anonymous sources to share celebrity gossip. PR teams exploit these platforms to feed their desired narratives without appearing to directly control the flow of information.
How Gossip Sites Like DeuxMoi Work:
Anonymous Tips and Leaks: PR teams often send anonymous tips to gossip outlets, offering details about celebrity activities or sightings. These tips are deliberately vague, leaving room for interpretation and speculation. Once posted on sites like DeuxMoi, the stories tend to snowball as they are shared across social media and republished by larger outlets.
Fueling Speculation: These posts generate buzz and speculation, keeping celebrities in the public eye without any direct confirmation. Gossip sites become a key player in amplifying the narrative, as fans, influencers, and media outlets continue to discuss and spread the information.
Mutual Benefits: While gossip sites operate independently, there is a mutual benefit to the relationship between them and PR teams. Gossip sites thrive on traffic and engagement, while PR teams can ensure their client’s name stays relevant in the public discourse. By subtly feeding stories, PR teams maintain control over how their celebrity’s narrative unfolds.
The piece goes on to give specific examples like Kendall Jenner and Bad Bunny, Tomdaya, Gigi Hadad and Zayne Malik, etc. then talks about fake fan interactions and how to spot them.
It offers key questions to ask about the photos you see (like what story is it telling and why and who benefits?) and then it gives this example. If your ears aren’t already fully perked, this will do it:
Example: 37-Year-Old Famous Actress and 24-Year-Old Lesser-Known Celebrity
Narrative of Romance or Distraction: In this case, the 37-year-old actress is likely fueling rumors of a relationship with the 24-year-old to either distract from something else in her personal life (like a real romantic partner) or to refresh her public image. The younger celebrity could be hired to play a temporary love interest or interest figure in the media, leading people to speculate whether they are more than just friends.
Creating a Romance or Mystery: The photo of them walking arm-in-arm, laughing, or holding hands might suggest that a romantic connection exists. This could be used to make the actress seem more relatable, desirable, or single, even if there is no romantic involvement behind the scenes.
Diverting Public Focus: If the actress is privately in a relationship with another celebrity or involved in an ongoing controversy, the staged photo with the younger celebrity helps to deflect attention. By inserting a "mystery romance," the public is more interested in who the new partner is, leaving the actress’s real partner or issues to stay out of the spotlight.
PR Stunt to Revitalize Publicity: The actress might not just be looking for romantic gossip but also fresh exposure. A curated paparazzi shot could serve as a PR tool to keep the actress's name in circulation—be it through romantic rumors, new partnerships, or simply new media content to fuel speculation.
Potential Body Double for Real Partner: If the real partner is shying away from the public eye or trying to avoid the media, the younger celebrity might act as a "body double" or decoy. This helps maintain an image of the actress being in a public relationship, while allowing her to keep the real relationship.
Don’t think I need to explain the relevance of this very specific example. There’s a lot more in the post, but I’ll move on for now to the next key post.
“Breadcrumbing and Coordinated Campaigns”
In this piece, they offer first some key breadcrumbing tactics, many of which sound awfully familiar.
Common Types of Breadcrumbs:
Cryptic Social Media Posts: Celebrities post vague messages or abstract references, sparking fan theories. Example: Harry Styles posts cryptic images or quotes, prompting speculation.
Coordinated Social Media Timing: PR teams synchronize posts to create the illusion of a shared narrative. Example: Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss posted similar content at the same time, fueling relationship rumors.
Accidental Social Media Interactions: Liking posts or commenting on ambiguous tweets creates intimacy and speculation. Example: Kendall Jenner engages with fans on social media, fueling rumors.
Seemingly Innocent Photos: Casual photos subtly hint at a larger narrative. Example: Zendaya and Tom Holland posted photos together, teasing their relationship.
Cryptic? Like Bless the Telephone? Or a mysterious left-handed guy holding a phone in the background while Nic gets ready?
Synchronized like Nic and Jake at that restaurant? Or as far as that goes, like Nic and Luke with the S4 selfie?
Accidental social media interactions? I didn’t go into that here, but we’ve seen lots of odd likes and things, lots of Nic interactions, oh, and those RW and SL likes of late.
Seemingly innocent photos. Like very happy looking S4 pics and the “now it’s yours” BTS photo?
Perhaps most of this could be interpreted as just genuine fan interaction and fan service, which I think it is to some extent. It’s a natural part of the business. But it’s also very often done with intention.
But here’s the more important part of this piece. It gives some case studies (Ben and JLo, Shawn and Camila), then it gives two “abstract” examples.
YOU’LL LOVE THIS. Note that the second example changes to an actor and a musician, but don’t let that fool you. Keep reading for some unmistakable specifics.
Breadcrumbing with a Fake PR Girlfriend: Case Study of Celebrity 007
For Celebrity 007, breadcrumbing is used to create a false narrative about a relationship with a PR girlfriend. This helps maintain fan interest while deflecting attention from the celebrity’s true personal life.
How It Works:
First Breadcrumbs: The PR strategy begins with posts from both the celebrity and the PR girlfriend, hinting at a connection without confirming it. Example: Celebrity 007 posts a picture from a Paris restaurant or cafe in LA and the PR girlfriend shares a similar post from the same location but from a different day with different white trucks in the background (double check the Instyle Stunt images!!!)
Expanding the Narrative: Shared travel posts and indirect interactions continue the illusion of a relationship. Example: Matching geo-tags in posts from Rome suggest they were there together.
Indirect Engagement: Likes, comments, and ambiguous interactions increase intrigue without confirming the relationship. Example: The PR girlfriend comments, “Great to be here with you! 💖,” on Celebrity 007's post.
Paparazzi Shots: Carefully timed candid shots further reinforce the illusion of a relationship. Example: Paparazzi photos of Celebrity 007 and the PR girlfriend walking hand-in-hand, fueling speculation.
Note:
Café in LA, same location, different trucks?
Matching tags in Rome?
Likes and ambiguous interactions
Carefully timed (say at a premiere party) candid paparazzi shops w gf walking hand-in-hand
And then there’s the next one. In the interest of length since this is already hella long, I’ve removed some less relevant parts, but I encourage you to read it yourself.
Breadcrumbing to Hide a Real Relationship: Case Study of Celebrity 009
Why Hide the True Relationship?
In celebrity culture, the decision to keep a relationship private—or hidden—can be a strategic move, driven by a mix of personal privacy and professional interests. Some celebrities may choose to share their personal lives openly, but for others, particularly those who value their privacy or wish to control their public image, keeping a relationship private is key. This is especially relevant for two celebrities who are romantically involved but prefer to maintain discretion, despite public curiosity about their relationship.
Whether it’s a high-profile couple like Beyoncé and Jay-Z, or a less conspicuous pairing, the decision to hide the true nature of a romantic relationship often involves balancing personal desires with career strategy. In this scenario, let’s explore why two celebrities might choose to keep their relationship under wraps and the complex PR considerations that lead them to do so.
Media Scrutiny/Escaping Constant Surveillance: Navigating the Spotlight Together (I’ve combined two sections here for length)
When two celebrities become romantically involved, the media will inevitably take notice. The relationship can quickly become the focal point of constant headlines, paparazzi photos, and gossip columns. For celebrities who value their privacy, this level of scrutiny can feel overwhelming, as every public appearance or moment shared can quickly turn into speculation, even if the couple doesn’t wish to attract attention.
Romanticized Expectations: The Pressure of Perfection
Media scrutiny often creates an unrealistic, romanticized version of a celebrity relationship. Fans and the public tend to project their fantasies onto famous couples, imagining them as the perfect, unbreakable pairing. The real complexities of a relationship—differences, compromises, and struggles—often don't fit neatly into the idealized narratives created by the public.
For a couple like Actor A and Musician B, the pressure to live up to these idealized expectations can be exhausting. By choosing to keep their relationship private, they can avoid the constant pressure to fit into a preconceived mold. Hiding the relationship from public view allows them to keep things grounded and avoid being turned into a media spectacle.
Brand Control: Managing the Image of "Singleness" or "Availability"
For many celebrities, their public image is closely tied to their brand, and that brand may depend on their perceived "availability" or their status as desirable, unattached individuals. The way the public perceives a celebrity’s romantic life—whether they are single, dating, or in a long-term relationship—can have a significant impact on their professional success and marketability.
Creating Room for Desire: The Allure of the Single Celebrity
Consider Actor A, a leading man known for portraying romantic heroes on screen. The public’s perception of Actor A as a single, unattainable figure is key to their marketability, both in the media and as a brand. If they were to publicly reveal a relationship with Musician B, it could diminish that aura of unattainability. Similarly, Musician B may want to maintain a flirtatious public persona, which could be undermined if they were publicly involved with someone. By keeping the relationship private, both celebrities retain the allure of being desirable and unattached, feeding into the fantasies of their fans.
Avoiding the "Couple" Brand: Risk of Being Reduced to a Package Deal
When a high-profile couple’s relationship is made public, they may become known less for their individual work and more for their collective identity as a couple. In some cases, the couple's public appearances or shared brand messages may overshadow their individual projects. Think of Beyoncé and Jay-Z, who have an incredibly powerful couple brand that often eclipses their solo endeavors in the media. For celebrities like Actor A and Musician B, the fear of being seen as a "package deal" might drive them to hide their relationship. This allows both to maintain their distinct identities, keeping their projects and brands separate and preventing the public from viewing them solely as a pair.
Respecting Boundaries: The Vulnerability of Celebrity Relationships
Even when two celebrities are involved, the vulnerabilities of a relationship can become the focus of media attention if they go public. Romantic relationships—especially those in the high-pressure world of celebrity—are often fraught with ups and downs. The public might demand to know every detail, fueling rumors of breakups, infidelities, or relationship drama. By keeping their romance under wraps, Actor A and Musician B can avoid becoming the subject of constant gossip and can maintain some semblance of normalcy in their private lives.
Avoiding Disruptive Publicity
Celebrity relationships often attract media scrutiny not only about their romantic lives but also about how their relationship affects their careers. The public and the media often delve into the smallest details, speculating about how the relationship might impact their professional trajectories, previous relationships, or future projects.
Career Disruption: The Challenge of Balancing Love and Work
For celebrities like Musician B, a new relationship can take attention away from their upcoming album release or concert tour. The media’s obsession with their personal life might overshadow the launch of a new professional project. Similarly, if Actor A is in the middle of promoting a film or preparing for a big role, the press could focus more on their relationship than their craft, disrupting the flow of their work.
I won’t bother reviewing the relevance of all of the above. I’m sure you can see it plainly for yourself. The examples are absolutely, positively referencing Nicola and Luke, and the reasons for hiding it are super relevant. Especially boundaries, disruption, pressure to be perfect, and being reduced to a package deal.
Now at this point, it’s worth asking the question, do we trust this source? I don’t actually know who posted this content, so I can’t verify their credentials. Perhaps this is yet another PR person’s tricky efforts to continually confuse us and keep us guessing? That seems unlikely since the entire purpose is to help lift the veil on all the other tricks. If you wanted the other tricks to be effective, you’d hardly be revealing them to your target audiences.
But even setting that very logical assumption aside, the reason I know with every fiber of my being that it’s true is that this is literally the only version of events that makes sense of absolutely everything.
All those mysterious and confusing signals, all those weird photos and changes in behavior, all the inconsistencies between what we all saw with our own eyes (they are IN LOVE) and what we saw subsequently with the adjacents, all the tiny Lukola crumbs keeping us hanging on, and all the fandom bickering, especially from bizarrely rabid jakolas.
Every bit of it makes complete sense if we accept that Nic, Luke, and their PR teams have been using a classic PR handbook to distract us from the very real truth that they are together and in love.
Does it hurt to know we’ve been manipulated? You bet it does! But I quickly accepted that because I was so happy to have the truth verified at last. And because I understand why they would do it.
Relationships are hard enough when lived in private. No relationship, no matter how much people love each other, is without challenge. Even soulmates have issues to navigate. Can you imagine the pressure on them if the whole world was watching?
And their lives have added challenges. Travel and separation. Long work schedules that may often be at odds. Possibly romantic scenes with future co-stars that could stir up uncomfortable feelings. Career ups and downs that may not always synch up. Fans and media watching their every move, dissecting them, judging them, rooting for them, and just putting massive pressure on them. What if they fail? They’re letting down the whole world, not just themselves.
And what about Nic’s longstanding demand for privacy? And her emphasis that no woman is just some dude’s girlfriend. She wants to be known for her own work and achievement and passions, not for who she dates or marries. Even if it is wonderful Luke.
Likewise, Luke is just now achieving a newfound level of success. This is a moment for him to seize and make the most of. Being a hot, sexy, ostensibly single guy is good for his brand right now. Even if we know he loves Nicola, his stans need to be able to fantasize about him, which is easier if his relationship is unconfirmed.
And let’s face it, if they come out as a couple, IT WILL BE LUKOLA all the time. That will be the story. Certainly if they’d come out during the World Tour, every question at every stop would be about them and their personal “friends to lovers story.” It would be irresistible to reporters. Too good a story to ignore. And they’d spend way more time talking about their personal lives than about their work. Does that sound like something either of them would want?
And one last thing. Back to their changes in behavior. Does it make more sense that Nicola, who has always been super private about her love life, would suddenly be willing to be photographed constantly with her new bf Jake? Or that Jake is not her bf and she’s keeping her actual bf (or fiancé or husband) secret?
Meanwhile, Luke, who has always been open about his relationships in the past suddenly decides to tighten up and share absolutely nothing about his private life? Well, that makes complete sense if he’s now in a relationship with a woman who is famously private and shares not one word publicly. Suddenly, literally everything makes sense and is entirely consistent.
So there it is, folks. To me, this is the Holy Grail. There’s not a doubt left in my mind about them. They’re together and everything else – literally everything else – is a decoy and a distraction, and every bit of it comes straight from the PR playbook.
I’d like to maintain a sliver of hope that they’re leaving much of it to their teams and they’re not in on the worst of it, but in any case, I don’t blame them one bit for trying to protect their love. It’s too special to let it be destroyed by public consumption. You gotta do what you gotta do.
Given that I don’t actually know them and haven’t confirmed anything directly, I’ll leave 1.5% room for doubt, and adjust my certainty to 98.5%.
And you may dismiss all of this and draw very different conclusions, which is okay, too. But if I’m being really honest, I’m actually 1,000% sure. And I couldn’t be happier for them.
What do we do now? That’s up to each of us. Personally, I’m going to be blissfully happy for them, not sweat any of the distractions, let them live as quietly as they like, and patiently await the day (whether it’s very soon or far in the future) when they finally go public. I hope you’ll do the same.
And until then, I’m going to keep watching Lukola videos on repeat.
#lukola#luke newton#nicola coughlan#polin#polin bridgerton#nicluke#lukola is real#I've never been more sure of anything#then again#But it's all true and I can prove it
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The invinsible princess | Chapter 1
"Champions of Europe"
Index | Chapter 2
Masterlist
“C’mom, go talk to her. Look at how miserable she looks.”
“Why don't you go talk to her?”
“Because she doesn't fancy me, Gavi” Ferran smirks.
“That's something the press made out.”
“Or not” Ferran shrugs.
“If you don't go talk to her, I will.”
“Fermín, don't you have a girlfriend?” Gavi says.
“Yeah. And?”
“You can't go talk to the princess. That's cheating.”
“It's just talking, Gavi. Relax” he chuckles.
“Unless the press sees you and then boom! Fermín the Prince” Ferran laughs.
“Fermín I of Spain. Sounds cool, I like it. What do you think, Pedri? Pedri?” he says, looking around for his teammate.
“Where is he going?” Ferran asks.
“He’s… Oh my God, he's walking towards the princess!” Gavi gasps.
“There he goes. Pedro I of Spain” Fermín chuckles
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“And then it all had been a mistake!”
“That is so funny” my dad laughs. “Isn't it, Sofía?”
“So funny” I say with my best fake smile.
Why am I stuck with a bunch of old men? This is a party to celebrate that Spain just won the Euros. I should be out there mingling with the young people, talking with the players and their families, getting to know them all a bit and properly congratulate them. But no. I'm stuck with a man telling us about his latest golfing trip to Scotland.
“Something similar happened to me last time we went to Mallorca” my dad says, making me already disconnect from the conversation. I know which anecdote he is about to share. I probably already know it by heart just from hearing him telling about it to everyone he's met lately. So instead of listening to him, I start looking around.
There are some players dancing with their partners, others playing with their kids (which is the cutest thing ever), others are just chilling… And then, there is someone wearing red and a medal around his neck walking towards me. Or trying to.
“Right, Sofía?” my dad says again.
“Yeah, yeah” I nod.
One of the good things about him having told this anecdote so many times is that, by now, I also know when he asks for my support and how I have to react to it, what I have to say. Which comes very handy when your eyes are stuck on the guy smiling and standing in front of you, and who is currently moving his head to one side to make you follow him somewhere.
“Dad, do you mind if I go get myself a refill?” I ask him.
“Yes, sure. But just beer.”
“Just beer, I promise” I smile before finally leaving the group of men and following Pedri.
Oh, yes. Because the guy who had been smiling at me and asking me to follow him, was freaking Pedri González.
“Ma’am” my bodyguard says behind me. “Are you going somewhere?”
Shit. Fuck. I had forgotten about him.
“I'm just going out to get some fresh air. I'm feeling a bit dizzy” I say with a nervous laugh.
“Alone?” he says, looking at the glass door that leads outside the room, Pedri waiting on the other side.
“I… Ummm… It'll be just five minutes.”
“Ma'am…”
“Five minutes, Carlos. It's not like he can kidnap me or something with his leg like that” I chuckle.
“He cannot, no. But what about others? You are Spain's Princess.”
“But not the heir. No one cares about me.”
“Don't say that, ma'am.”
“It's the truth” I shrug. “Anyway, can I go outside for five minutes? Please? He may just want a photo for his mum.”
“Ok, fine” Carlos sighs. “But don't leave the building.”
“I won't, I promise” I smile before basically running towards the door. He may still regret letting me go.
Once outside, it takes me a moment to find Pedri. When I spot him, he is resting against one of the huge windows, checking the brace he has to wear on his knee.
“Is it too uncomfortable?” I ask him as I walk towards him.
“Uh?” he says, looking up. And maybe, just maybe… I gasped when the lights from outside illuminated his face in all the right places.
“The brace. Is it uncomfortable?”
“A bit, yeah” he smiles.
“I'm sorry about what happened.”
“Thank you” Pedri smiles again. “Though everything worked out in the end” he says, touching his medal. “Do you want to try it?”
“Oh, I, ummm…”
“Here” he says, taking it off before walking towards me and putting it around my neck, carefully untucking my hair so it doesn't get tangled with the strap. “Perfect. How does it feel?”
“Heavier than I expected” I chuckle.
“It can't be heavier than a crown” he laughs.
“I don't know. I've never tried on one.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah. It's not like I'm gonna be the one who is gonna have to wear it. That's my sister, the heir.”
“But you still are a princess, aren't you? Don't all princesses wear crowns?”
“Nope. I may get to wear a tiara one day if I'm invited to a big event like a royal wedding or a reception for someone important, but other than that…”
“I'm sorry.”
“Oh, don't be. Sometimes being the second born that everyone forgets about actually comes with its perks. Like being here today, for example.”
“I thought it was because you liked football.”
“That too” I chuckle.
“And football players?” Pedri asks me. “Do you also like them?”
“What?”
“My friends were talking about you fancying Gavi.”
“That's my sister, not me.”
“Ha! I knew it! I knew it was her and not you. But they were so convinced they didn't want to listen to me.”
“I'm used to people mixing us, don't worry” I say while playing with the medal. “And I actually am more into dark haired guys than brunettes like him.”
“Are you?”
“Yeah” I shrug, still focused on the medal.
“Anything else you like in your men?”
“Why are you interested?” I ask him, looking up and at his face, a little smirk on his lips.
“Just curious about how the future Prince of Spain could look like” he shrugs.
“Well… I like men with interesting noses.”
“What?” he laughs.
“Yeah… I don't know how to explain it. But if you look at the list of men I'm attracted to, famous or not, they all have that in common. Yours would actually make the cut.”
“My nose?” he laughs again.
“I… It is too weird, isn't it? Urgh” I say, covering my face with my hands. And that, my friends, is how you ruin things with the guy you are trying to flirt with.
“No, no. Not at all. Is just that no one had complimented my nose before. Most girls talk about my lips.”
“Your lips?”
“They say they were made to kiss and be kissed. What do you think?”
“What?” I say, still covering my face.
“Are my lips kissable or not, your royal highness?” Pedri says, his hands suddenly on mine, moving them away to rest at my sides. But he doesn't let go once they get there. He keeps holding them, his fingers playing with mine, his thumbs sometimes caressing my knuckles or the inside of my wrist and sending waves of heat all the way up my arms.
“They are ok” I manage to say.
“Just ok? I think I'm gonna have to move closer so you can see them better” he says, closing the space between us a bit more.
“They just look like lips” I shrug. But that's a lie. Because his lips do look made to kiss and be kissed.
“Maybe if we moved towards the light…” he says, his hands suddenly on my waist, moving me until my back is against the big window, the light once again hitting his face in all the right places.
I knew Pedri was handsome, but this handsome? Wow.
“Better now?”
“Let me see…” I say as I move forward a little bit, the medal doing it with me and hitting his chest. We are so close right now… “Nothing. Just lips.”
“Well, if you can't see anything, I'll guess we'll have to try with a different sense. Like touch, for example.”
“What?”
“How does this feel, your royal highness?” he says, gently taking one of my hands and kissing it, the other still resting on my waist.
“You can start calling me ma'am now. Royal highness is just for the first time you address me.” And how I've managed to give him a protocol lesson while feeling my skin burn on the spot where his lips have been, will forever be a mystery.
“Ma'am sounds like something for someone old. What about my lady?”
“You could also call me by my name” I shrug.
“We just met, my lady. Aren't you going too fast?” Pedri smirks.
“Me? Who is the one looking for a way to kiss me?” I smirk back.
“Busted” he laughs.
“Though if you want to kiss me, you just have to ask.”
“Ok, then. May I kiss you… my lady?”
“You may” I whisper.
“Thank you” he smiles. “But…” he says, stopping just as his lips brush against mine. “After I've done it, will you tell if my lips are made to kiss and be kissed?”
“I will.”
“A princess must keep her promises.”
“I will, I promise. Now are you going to kiss me or not?”
“As my lady commands” he smirks before finally doing it and kissing me. Pedri… the Pedri… is kissing me. And it is… wow. Just wow. “And?” he whispers against my lips.
“I haven't told you to stop.”
“So bossy” he chuckes.
“Well, I am your princess, am I not?”
“You are, yes.”
“Then as your princess, I'm telling you, Pedri González, to keep kissing me.”
“With my lips made to kiss and be kissed?”
“With your lips made to kiss and be kissed, yes” I say, making him smile before kissing me again and… Oh, my God.
I thought winning the Euros earlier had felt amazing, but I was wrong. Being kissed by him, and in the way he is right now, is what truly feels amazing.
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“I think this is yours” I say, giving Pedri his medal back.
“It looks better on you, tho.”
“Oh, stop it” I laugh, putting it around his neck, the place where my hands were resting not that long ago.
“It's the truth” he shrugs. “And do we seriously have to go back in there?” he says, nodding towards the party.
“We do, yes” I sigh. “But, we are meeting again tomorrow.”
“We are, yes. And you've promised me a tour of the palace. And a princess…”
“Keeps her promises” I smile.
“Exactly” Pedri smiles back. And we stay like that, just smiling like two idiots, until someone clears his throat behind us. Carlos, my bodyguard. “I think that's our cue to go inside.”
“I think it is, yes.”
“Do you think he will send the secret service after me if I kiss you one last time?” he whispers.
“There is nothing like trying” I shrug.
“Ok, then. Bro, look the other way!” he says to Carlos while I just laugh, his hands suddenly cupping my face before kissing me one last time. “No secret service?” he whispers, opening one eye.
“No secret service.”
“Thank God” he sighs, making me laugh again. “Anyway… I should probably go in first, shouldn't I? Distract everyone with my limping so they won't look at you.”
“Oh, don't worry. No one looks at me, I'm the invisible princess.”
“Only someone blind would not look at you, my lady.”
“Thank you” I say, feeling my cheeks getting warm. We've been kissing and flirting, and him saying that is what finally makes me go shy. “But like I told you, I don't mind being invisible sometimes. This” I say, playing with the strap of his medal. “Would have not been possible if I was the heir. And the secret service would have definitely jumped at you the moment you got too close.”
“Lucky me, then” Pedri smiles.
“Lucky us” I smile back. “Now go. I can see Carlos getting impatient.”
“Urgh, fine… See you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow.”
“Ok. Good night, my lady” he says, kissing my cheek.
“Good night, sir” I giggle as I watch him walk back into the party, laughing one more time when he turns around to look at me and blows me a kiss.
“Feeling better, ma'am?” Carlos says behind me.
“Much better” I smile.
“Then I'm sorry about what I'm about to tell you, ma'am.”
“What?” I say, turning around to look at him.
“It's about him, about Pedri. Something I heard his friends talking about when I went back inside to give you some… privacy.”
“Carlos, you are starting to worry me.”
“I… I'm sorry, ma'am.”
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The next day…
“My lady.”
“Pedri.”
“I wasn't expecting to be offered croquetas at the royal palace” he chuckles, nodding at the table in front of us.
“Yeah, well.”
“When we met earlier it was kind of awkward, wasn't it? Shaking hands with your parents and your sister, acting as if we didn't know each other and nothing had happened last night…”
“Did something happen last night?” I ask, eating an olive and finally looking at him. “Besides you winning the Euros, I mean.”
“We… you… what?” he says with a confused look.
“I don't remember anything important happening” I shrug.
“You don't… Oh. Oh, I get it. You are teasing me because out here someone could hear us” Pedri says, looking around at his teammates. After meeting the whole team inside the palace, we are now in the gardens, everyone chatting, having a drink and relaxing before they have to go to Cibeles to celebrate.
“I'm not teasing you, Pedri. I don't remember anything” I shrug again. “Wait, no. I do remember one thing” I say, moving forward. “That you are a dick” I whisper in his ear before walking away.
“That I'm what? What are you talking about?” he says before following me.
“Is your hearing also injured?”
“My hearing is perfect, my lady” he says, struggling to keep up with me. “What I don't understand is why.”
“Why what?” I say, suddenly stopping. We've walked away from where everyone else is, kind of hidden behind some bushes.
“Why are you calling me a dick? What did I do?”
“Do you seriously have to ask?” I laugh.
“Yeah.”
“I can't believe it” I laugh again. “You fucking used me, Pedri!”
“What?”
“You used me to have a laugh with your friends! You made a bet with them to see who could get a kiss from me first!”
“What?” he says again, looking more and more confused by the second.
“Carlos heard them talking about it, so don't you dare try to deny it. I'm sure you all had a laugh this morning when you told them everything that happened between us.”
“We don't… I…”
“I was an easy target, wasn't I? The poor princess that no one looks at, the one who always is in the shadow of her sister, who always is the second option. I'm sure you felt so proud when you told them how easily I fell for your charms, how stupid I was. But not anymore, you hear me. Not anymore.”
“That's not what happened” Pedri says, grabbing me by the arm when I try to walk away, earning himself a even more deadly look than the ones I was already giving him. “Sorry. I'm sorry” he says, letting go. “But please let me explain myself.”
“Why? Why would I do that? You manipulated me once, you could do it again. I am that stupid.”
“You aren't stupid, and I didn't manipulate you. I…” he says, running a hand through his hair. “The boys were talking about who could get you out of your misery, that's true. We were watching you talking with your dad and those men, and you looked so… Bored. Like you wished to be anywhere but there. But I wasn't part of it, I swear. I actually was getting mad while listening to them and the way they were talking about you. So before any of them found the guts to go talk to you just for fun, I did it myself. Not the go talking with you for fun part. The one about finding the guts to go talk to you. Because I… I have a bit of a crush on you.”
“What?” I laugh.
“Yeah” he says, nervously touching his cheek. A cheek that had turned almost as red as his Spain's shirt. “Here, look” he says, taking his phone out of his pocket. “I have proof.”
“Proof of what? You being an idiot?”
“An idiot for you, yes” he says, showing me what he had been looking for on his phone. “It's a WhatsApp conversation I had with my brother yesterday before the game when it was announced that you were attending. You can check the date and the time, it isn't fake.”
Your girlfriend is gonna be at the game tonight 🤭 If you win she may give you a kiss 😚 Instead of Casillas and Sara Carbonero, Pedri and the princess ⚽👸🏻👩🏻❤️💋👨🏻
“This… This means nothing” I say, giving him his phone back.
“I can show you more messages from him teasing me about it. Look.”
People are shipping Gavi with the princess after the game 😂 Maybe he could introduce you to her little sister 😏 Gavi king and you prince 😂
“I… Pedri…”
“Everything that happened last night was real. I swear it” he says. “I didn't kiss you because of a bet with my friends. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I like you.”
“You don't know me. Like, you barely know anything about me, only what the press publishes.”
“I know enough. Because to me” he says, taking one of my hands on his, his thumb caressing my knuckles like he had last night. “To me you aren't invisible or someone's shadow. To me, you shine brighter than anyone else. King, queen, heir to the throne or whatever.”
“That's so cheesy” I chuckle.
“But the truth.”
“Pedri, I…” I say, meeting his eyes. He isn't lying. Everything he's said about kissing me because he wanted to and not because of a bet, about liking me, about me not being the invisible princess I always believe myself to be… All that is true. I can see it in his face, on his blushed cheeks, in his eyes. He is being honest about it all. “I believe you.”
“You… You do?”
“I do” I nod.
“Thank God” he sighs. “I thought any moment now you would call the secret service and they would send me to… Where do they send people when they arrest them?”
“Can't tell you. It is the secret service for a reason” I wink.
“Makes sense” he chuckles. “But does this mean that I am not a dick anymore or…?” he says, closing the space between us a bit.
“Well… There is something you could do to make me completely forget about it” I say, also moving closer towards him.
“Something like what?” he asks, his other hand finding mine, now both his thumb caressing my skin, bringing back the waves of heat I felt last night.
“You could kiss me with those lips of yours” I smirk.
“Here?” he says, looking around. “What if someone comes this way and sees us? Like someone from the team, your dad or… your mum. Your mum is quite scary, you know?”
“Oh, I know” I laugh. “But if we move over here…” I say, walking us behind a big tree, my back against it. “No one will see us. We'll be… invisible” I smile.
“You are anything but invisible, my lady” Pedri smiles back, his hands letting go of mine and moving to rest on my waist.
“Then show me” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Will you then give me a tour of the palace? You promised it last night, and a princess…”
“Keps her promises, I know.”
“Exactly” he smirks.
“First we kiss, then we do the tour. But just so you know, Carlos will probably join us.”
“Wait, is he here?” Pedri says, looking around, his eyes wide.
“He may be hiding behind a bush, yes” I laugh.
“Shit. If he sees together after what he heard last night…”
“I'll explain everything to him, don't worry. But if you are being serious about getting to know me…”
“Deadly.”
“Then you better start getting used to his presence.”
“I think I can do that. Because you” he says, brushing his nose against mine and making me giggle. “Are worth it, my lady. So worth it” Pedri says before finally kissing me again, making me feel what he has been telling me since we met: that I'm not just someone's shadow, a second option. That I am not the invisible princess anymore.
#pedri#pedri gonzalez#pedri x reader#pedri gonzalez x reader#pedri imagine#pedri gonzalez imagine#pedri fanfic#pedri gonzalez fanfic#football fanfic#football imagine
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