#I smoked crack 3 times today

[ptsdickgrayson]

Why can’t the highs last forever

[bunnyhugs77]

Mr. Take Your Bitch

Pairing: Idol! Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Content Warning: jk is a little cocky, player! jk, reader gets flustered so easily, jk is such a tease, smooth talker jk, clubbing, ft bts, interviews, reader is small (like 5'1), insults, alcohol consumption, infidelity, readers boyfriend is an asshole, mentions of smoking, impulsive jk, what happens in vegas stays in vegas, messyyy, suggestive themes, sweet gestures.

Other Content: hair pulling, manhandling, oral sex (f! receiving), squirting, missionary, jk splits reader in half, big dick! jk, doggy style, dacryphilia, praise and degradation, cream pies, minor possessive jk, unprotected sex (be better than them), recording.

"How do I look?" Sunny tosses the perfectly sculpted curls in her hair once more, pouting in the dressing room mirror, making sure that not a strand was out of place.

"For the eighth time, you look great, as always." She stands, her red off-the-shoulder top accenting her white pencil skirt and perfect figure, she really did look gorgeous. "Great isn't enough. This is the first time I'm interviewing THE BTS. I need to look perfect."

"You do. I promise." You reassure with a comforting right hand on her shoulder while you center her necklace with your left. "Y/n, we need you out here to help set up." Your manager cracks the door open to call for you briefly before leaving.

"I still cannot believe you dragged me into this coffee girl job just for you to get close to Namjoon." Sunny's full lips stretch from ear to ear showing off her million-dollar smile, "What's so wrong about me wanting you nearby for emotional support? But at least I got you a job out of it, 3 weeks ago you were on the brink of poverty.'' Her arms crossed and you had to admit, she did have a point.

"What was the whole point of this again?" You simply had to ask, remembering the midnight phone call Sunny surprised you with about a month ago when she landed the Hybe interviewer position.

"Remember the story I told you about, in Junior year, me and this boy from math camp snuck out 6 miles away with fake IDs and got shitfaced at the nearest bar then hooked up but I never got his name and he was in the middle of signing my journal we were interrupted and I never saw him again until-"

"You saw Namjoon's face on a billboard in Seoul, and you took this opportunity to get close to see if it was him or not. Yes, I remember now, it's all coming back to me." You finish her story for her.

"Exactly, and-"

"--Y/n, sometime today would be great." Your manager interrupts once again and you leave, apologizing frantically for making them wait, not wanting to lose this job. It actually paid pretty well considering all you did was make drinks.

Walking out of the dressing room, ignoring the buzz in the back pocket of your jeans as you followed your manager to the coffee cart offset. Although from here you had a perfect view of where the interview would take place.

They set it up to be very stylish and modern with BTS albums and concept photos placed strategically around the set within the camera shot. Along with a small coffee table, one chair on one side where Sunny would sit and seven on the other side.

It almost gave you chills to think about. The fact that in a few moments, the most popular boy band in the continent would be sitting right there. All seven of them, including the tempting one.

The one who makes you stumble over your words every time he comes down to the first floor to get a coffee even though there's a gazillion other places to get something to drink in the building.

Every time you see him, he's displaying a new style. Sometimes he comes down stacked with complex layers of clothing and covered in jewelry, or with nothing more than a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, although the latter was possibly the worst of your few interactions. He's just so handsome, it made you want to squirm.

That day he was saying all the right things, yet saying nothing at all. Asking you simple questions like when you started working here, and if you liked coffee, meanwhile all you could mutter was an embarrassing 'yes'. What exactly you were saying yes to? You may never know.

You turned your back to the set and focused on making the pre-ordered drinks the members had sent down with their manager beforehand. By the time you turned back around Sunny was sitting in her place, anxious but ready.

You've been best friends since the 6th grade. She's incredibly outgoing and sociable, a balancing contrast to your more introverted nature although you could be a little extroverted with some alcohol in your system.

She was born for this job, you're sure she'll kill the interview. She mentioned that she'd bumped into a few of the members since she started working a month ago, but not Namjoon.

She definitely underestimated how hard it would be to 'bump' into a man who is guarded by security constantly and extremely busy, not to mention rarely in the country.

Hoseok was the first one to walk in, looking sharp as ever in casual attire but he he made it look incredible. Next was Jimin, and you noticed the way Sunny's eyes nearly widened when she finally saw Namjoon walk in behind Tae.

Finally, they were all inside and all greeted Sunny with a friendly hug and you can see she enjoyed her hug with Namjoon a little too much. Somehow finding something small to laugh about with him as they pulled away.

With an empty cup in your hand, you watched the most handsome group of men you've ever seen, file into the room and take a seat. "Go set these down before cameras start rolling." You feel a tap on your shoulder from another worker.

Did you zone out?

You placed a firm hand on your chest, taking a deep breath before placing a sturdy grip on the handles of the cart and bringing their beverages over. 'One foot in front of the other' you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the feeling of their gazes turning to you as you got closer.

Unable to look any of them in the eyes as you set down their drinks on the table saying the name of each one so they know which one is theirs.

You could feel his gaze on you whilst Sunny got to witness it first hand from where she sat. The way his jaw slowly clenches with each passing moment, watching you with dark, intense eyes. In that moment, the world around him blurred, and all that remained was the captivating image of you.

It was while you were placing down the final cup that you felt bold enough to finally look up from the table, glancing at Jimin who was talking to Hoseok on his right. Slowly your line of sight inches up and over his head to Jungkook who was sitting on a taller chair behind him.

He was looking right at you.

And that was more than enough for you to return to the cart and retreat to your station. The boys reached for their cups as the countdown to the interview began.

You watched with engaged eyes from the sidelines as the interview began, going through basic introductions and standard questions, you were listening along to the jokes made along the way.

It seemed they were having a great time out there, but you couldn't focus on all of them for too long. You wouldn't be doing your duties as Sunny's best friend if you didn't watch Namjoon's every move; including how he seemed to be the first one to answer almost any of her questions.

The questions were flying by and the discussion was so entertaining to watch but it was over before you even registered it. Sure, cameras had stopped rolling but they were all still talking.

You felt another buzz in your pocket, finally deciding to check.

 Daehyun: Are you still mad? It's been 2 days, you're being dramatic. 12:02 pm

 Daehyun: Why aren't you answering my texts? 1:12 pm

 Daehyun: Fine. Keep ignoring me. Real mature, Y/n. 1:13 pm

You scoff at the messages.

Unbelievable.

Your boyfriend has left you astonished. Again!

You put your phone back on silent, secretly wishing you'd never checked it in the first place. Muttering under your breath about what a jerk he's been to you lately but you stop yourself. Because he's still your boyfriend, and sure, he fucked up a few times, bad. It doesn't change the fact that you're in a relationship with him.

If you could even call it that.

You've slept together twice. Well- 1.5 times if you wanted to get specific. The second time was so bad that you simply had to stop it altogether and make up some excuse so that you didn't hurt his feelings.

Shaking him out of your head and focusing back on your task at hand which was collecting the empty mugs from the table. Repeating the same process as before, avoiding all eye contact, but this time you didn't look up.

You didn't bother because you already knew he was watching you.

You were intimidated but you weren't oblivious.

-

"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n!" You hear her from around the corner before you see her running towards you at your coffee station on the first floor. Sunny was practically bursting. You would think that she had captured the sun between her hands but it was something that would take your life for a spin, but you didn't know that yet.

"You're interview went so well!" You slip in your comment first knowing that once she says whatever she has to say, it'll go on for years.

"I know right! After you left to pack up, I was still talking to the guys and they really seemed to like me so they invited me and any +1 I want to invite on their weekend in Vegas trip tomorrow night! All expenses paid for!" Jaw-dropping wasn't the word. Knee buckling may be a better fit as you had quite literally stumbled and dropped a mug, thankfully it didn't break.

"No. No no no." You say, backing up and her entire demeanour deflated like a devastated puppy. "Why not?" You lean in close, whispering, "Because Jungkook is gonna be there--" She interrupts you, practically exploding with emotions. "Oh my god, he wants you so bad. Did you see the way he was looking at you?!" She whisper shouts.

"I know!" you plain shout out, realizing your volume needed adjusting and leaning forward onto the counter. "But he's Jeon Jungkook and I have Daehyun-" The most disgusted look runs across Sunny's face.

"I cannot believe you are even comparing the two right now. You said it yourself, one is Jeon Jungkook, and the other is Daehyun, a man you should've left in the dust months ago." Here we go again, you sigh.

"C'mon Y/n. He's an asshole, he's childish, he's bad in bed and honestly, the list should end there but no, he humiliated you in front of your family and he was caught in your sister's dm's on Christmas!!"

"It's May for god's sake and he's still stressing you out, and seeing you stressed makes me stressed. So why don't you come tomorrow, I'll keep you away from Jungkook if it comes to that, but please, you need to let loose a little and forget about him for just the weekend." She begs.

She could see you were starting to consider it.

"Please?" She pouts, giving you those same puppy eyes that convinced you to work here in the first place. "Please don't look at me like that, stop." You try to avoid her sorrowful gaze but It's like it intensifies to a point where you just can't look away, nor can you deny.

"Fine, fine. Okay, I'll go."

--

Considering you only just found out you were leaving the country yesterday, you think you did pretty good packing light but efficiently.

That's what you were thinking as you stepped behind Sunny onto the empty private jet. She'd already made arrangements to sit beside Namjoon.

She was crazy but you had to give the girl credit, she worked fast.

You weren't taking in a single thing, part of you was still in disbelief you had even seen the boys up close and personal yesterday.

This would all sink in for you in 5 years and then you'll be hit with a numbing regret of not doing things differently.

Or maybe it'll sink in for you right now, Jimin's full head of brown wavy hair is the first one you see to pop up on the plane and he flashes you a kind smile, taking a seat beside you.

He introduces himself as if you and half the world don't already know him but you engage anyway, giving him your name and the rest is history.

The flight was 11 hours so there was a lot of ground to cover between the two of you for the first 6 hours. Jimin was just such an easy person to open up with, any time you said something crazy you felt like he would have an even crazier story of his own to share.

He'd told you all about his first impressions of the guys to his first scandal that the label somehow managed to cover up because even you were in shock. It would have been over for him.

Then it was your turn, telling him about your exhausting boyfriend since it all started seven months ago.

"On Christmas?!" He shouts, "Why are you with him again?" You groan, "God you sound just like Sunny!"

The two of you were clearly enjoying your conversation while Sunny worked on getting Namjoon to talk a little bit about his past, trying to see if he really was the boy from all those years ago, but he seemed occupied reading his book and she wasn't going to interrupt him any longer. She sighs softly, looking out the window, watching the clouds fly by like art.

Meanwhile, at the front of the jet, Jungkook typed away on his laptop, sometimes blurbing some possible lyrics, but mostly keeping himself busy with a thousand rounds of Tetris. He tuned out the sound of your angelic laughter with his headphones, but it couldn't stop him from glancing to the back of the plane where you sat with Jimin every so often.

Only about an hour left before you landed and you really needed to pee but Jimin was in the way and fast asleep. You looked around, it seemed that everyone was fast asleep, but you really had to go.

Lightly tapping Jimin and asking him to let you through, he moves, half awake, just giving you enough time to pass before going back to his original position.

You exited the bathroom, nearly falling to the ground in horror when you came face to face with the man you'd nearly forgotten was on the jet. He smiles that classic bunny smile that the fans go crazy over.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He says it so sweetly, and in this hushed tone due to the late hour of the night it was making your head think things. Things that you should not be thinking about.

"You okay?" Checking in, seeing that you seemed to have zoned out mid-conversation. Shit. You were doing it again. "Y-yeah." You hated speaking to him it made you feel like you couldn't speak at all. He was just so tall, and his eyes were so big and endearing and-

"Really? Cause it looks like you've got something on your mind." It comes out in such a way that brings heat to your face, suddenly hyper-aware that everyone is asleep, and the two of you are out of sight in the narrow hall of the bathroom.

"Yeah, just excited for tomorrow." You lie, you felt sick to your stomach. He made you sick to your stomach. He gets a little closer, now close enough for you to be able to smell the soft cologne on his clothes. "What's got you so excited?"

It felt like you were watching yourself fall from the sky, it was slow but graceful, but you knew once you hit the bottom, things would get ugly. So you grew wings. "My boyfriend. We're planning on Facetiming tomorrow." It was like a repellant, the way he stepped back.

"Oh, that's nice." He mumbles and you take this opportunity to run back to your seat, hopping over Jimin and strapping yourself back in your seat, shaking your head over and over again.

This was a bad idea. You should not have come on this trip.

-

"She has a fucking boyfriend." Is the first thing Jungkook says to Yoongi and Jimin while the three sit in the back of the taxi that is en route to the hotel. Yoongi wasn't listening, still half asleep after only waking up 30 minutes ago. He would need a repeat of it all tomorrow.

"Pfft. Barely." Jimin mumbles. Triggering quite possibly the fasted head turn known to mankind, Jungkook looks at him with intrigue, "What do you mean by that."

"He's an asshole. Like a literal piece of shit, but she's still with him for whatever reason. It's gotta be Stockholm syndrome." Jimin shrugs. "But you can't tell her I told you this, I think she's pretty cool, so before you get your dick wet, think with your head first."

Yoongi hums in agreement with that one statement. He may be asleep but he knows a good statement when he hears one.

-

Jungkook did think. He thought about you all night. From the cab to the hotel, until he fell asleep and again when he woke up. Sure, you had a boyfriend, but it sounds like you shouldn't be with him, or at least deserved someone better.

The morning sun seeps through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the lavish surroundings. You and Sunny share a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the incredible experience that awaits. Or at least that's what Sunny thinks.

Instead, you retreat under the covers of your bed with an unpleasant sound. "How could I let you bring me here." Your voice is muffled and scratchy from it being the morning still. "Because you love me." She runs from her bed and jumps onto yours.

"Should we get room service?" She proposes and you slowly pull the covers down, revealing an interested expression. "Who's paying?" You ask. "Who cares! It's not us." She springs up and bounces for the phone.

By the late afternoon, you'd gotten an invite from Jimin, inviting you guys down to the pool, it was reserved just for them. "We're going, this isn't up for debate, Y/n. You said you would relax on this trip, so it's my job to make sure you do!" She pulls out the violet two-piece you'd packed in your luggage and shoves you into the bathroom, throwing the clothes in there with you after and shutting the door.

"I hate you y'know," you say from the other side of the door.

"You'll thank me one day, Y/n. One day."

-

There was a roar of cheers from the guys as the two of you walked into sight, the sun was beaming down on you and you were glad you brought your sunscreen.

Jungkook tried to be respectful to the sham of a relationship you were in but what was he supposed to do? You looked so hot in your bathing suit, you were so small but you still had curves in all the right places.

He just wanted to break you in half. Pin you down and-

A splash of water hits him in the face, "Stop eye fucking her and act like you've been neutered for once." Yoongi warns, swimming away before Jungkook could retaliate.

Jin calls Sunny into the water, and she just about jumped in while you were working on unwrapping your new bottle of sunscreen. Jungkook uses this as an opportunity. Looking down at the white shirt that was now soaked through, sticking to his abs he slowly steps out of the water.

Looking you right in the eyes as you shook the bottle. Now you were staring but you didn't care. You were looking at the son of Adonis, or maybe the god himself.

In the warm glow of the poolside sun, Jungkook emerged from the sparkling water, droplets cascading down his glistening skin. The pool's rippling surface bore witness to his athletic grace as he approached the pool chair where you reclined, still shaking the bottle.

His steps were confident, each one leaving a trail of water on the tiles beneath his feet. As he neared, he held your gaze with an intense, playful glint in his eyes. The air between you became charged with a magnetic energy, and a sly smile played on his lips.

With deliberate movements, Jungkook reached down to the hem of his white shirt, clinging to his sculpted physique. The fabric peeled away, revealing the contours of his toned abs. Beads of water followed the curves of his body, accentuating every defined muscle.

As the shirt came off, the sunlight caught on the droplets clinging to his skin, creating an ethereal effect. The sensual eye contact between the two of you intensified, creating a moment suspended in time. The poolside ambiance seemed to hush, allowing the connection between them to take center stage.

Your fist clenched, the sunscreen blurted out of the bottle, some landing on the smooth skin of your thigh but most hit the chair.

Jungkook's expression hinted at a playful confidence, acknowledging the allure of the moment. Your little accident told him all he needed to know. You wanted him.

Even if you didn't know it yet.

Wiping desperately at the sunscreen that had landed on you, a bigger hand comes to help. Gently rubbing the soft flesh of your thigh, Jungkook was crouched to your level with nothing more than a sincere smile as he helped you with your sunscreen.

Your mouth gaped like a fish out of water as you watched him from beside yourself. Unable to believe what was happening. You could feel your heart beating in your ears, and other places but you shook your head.

"Wh-what-" Jungkook looks up to you, moving his hand away. "My bad. I didn't mean to overstep, I just noticed that you'd spilt some of your sunscreen," He inches just a little closer so that you looked down at him from where you sat on your chair. "I'd hate for it to go to waste."

That mischievous tongue of his makes an appearance briefly as it swipes over his bottom lip before retreating; leaving behind glossy plump lips. It's not what he says, but how he says it.

Almost as though he wanted you to break.

You hated how he made you feel without saying anything out of the ordinary.

"You have to be shitting me," Yoongi curses to no one in particular as he watches Jungkook lean up towards you from where he was floating in the pool on the flamingo inflatable.

"You've gotta admit, the boy's determined." Jin adds while Hoseok shakes his head, "He just doesn't know when to give up."

--

Opening your hotel room door to see Jimin leaning against the wall waiting for you. He looked incredible in his black button-up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His hair swooped to perfection.

"About time." He kicks himself off the wall as you scoff, "Don't blame me, blame the dress." Your freshly manicured nail points to the red, velvet dress that left your chest exposed before it went under the halter neckline.

There was so much skin offered to anyone that looked at you. You looked absolutely stunning. The way the dress clung tightly to your curves was almost ungodly but made you seem even more angelic.

Twirling on your toes slowly to showcase the full rotation of your outfit and Jimin failed to suppress his gasp. The back- Your back was completely exposed safe for where the halter crossed behind your neck.

"You look hot, and I'm not just saying that." You grin, leading the way to the elevator and waiting for it to come up.

While you were watching the elevator screen, Jimin was watching you. Not lustfully or anything since he really did see the two of you becoming close friends in the future but his gaze was full of.. fear?

Jungkook was going to eat you alive tonight, and he was willing to put money on it.

The man has been able to show limited amounts of self-control since the trip began, and his little shirtless stunt at the pool earlier that day was proof.

The elevator dings and the doors open.

You step in, hearing your phone vibrating from within your maroon chain side bag. Digging through your various lipsticks, mini perfumes and hair pins you finally grab your buzzing device.

 Daehyun: When did you go to Vegas?? and how did you get there? 4:33 pm

 Daehyun: Baby, I'm sorry. I mean it. Stop Ignoring me. (now) 8:12 pm

You sigh, scrolling through your messages sadly. "Am I being too hard on him?" Jimin leans over to look at the messages, his face turning sour at Daehyun's messages. "I bet you he doesn't even know what he's apologizing for."

The elevator doors close, and Jimin presses the star symbol for the nightclub on the first floor where you would meet the others.

Shaking your head repeatedly, "No. That's impossible. He knows, Jimin. Trust me." He doesn't seem convinced in the slightest,

"Okay. Since you're so sure-" He snatched your phone from your grasp, his fingers moving at the speed of light and you panicked, reaching for the device but he held it high. "Jimin No-!"

"I said 'What are you apologizing for'. I won't send it if you don't want me to. But It seems like he's only apologizing because he knows he's in the wrong, but doesn't know what for."

The elevator dings, going down floor by floor, the silence slowly creeping up on you, "Send it." You say, and his thumb hits send.

The doors open.

You and Jimin step out into the club. Before you sprawled a vast expanse of vibrant colours. Neon lights adorned the walls, casting a kaleidoscope of hues that danced in rhythm with the music.

The dance floor, surrounded by elevated platforms and VIP booths, was the epicentre of the vibrant spectacle. Mirrored ceilings multiplied the dazzling display, creating a sense of endless sin.

"Do you know where they are?" You ask while Jimin leads the way into the crowd of hot bodies and blasting music, he glances down to the text from Tae, "Tae said they're in section 9." Maneuvering your way through the swarm of people until you meet up with the others.

Jimin walked up the steps first, the group's cheers blending in with the roars coursing throughout the rest of the club as he joined them with you closely behind, the cheers continuing for you with whistles once you reached the platform.

"Oh shit!" Sunny curses, rushing to your side to shower you with compliments. "I guess being 30 minutes late pays off, you look great." Tae welcomes you with a side hug and an invitation to sit beside him.

"You need to cool it." Jin pulls Jungkook in by the collar so that he could hear him over the music. Jungkook finally pulls his hungry gaze off of you and looks to his elder.

"You're making it way obvious, and obvious is not what you want. She has a boyfriend. There are hundreds of other girls here, find someone else." He lets him go and Jungkook shakes his head.

How Jin even found out that you had a boyfriend didn't phase him. The seven of them were as close as brothers, it was hard for him and Jimin to keep anything to themselves.

Hundreds of girls but they weren't you. He couldn't just switch it on and off. This wasn't as fun and playful as it once was before, he was starting to get addicted to the thought of you.

"You have any pre-rolls on you?" Jungkook leans over to Namjoon who was deep into a conversation with Sunny. Namjoon reaches inside the pocket of his blazer, "Never leave home without them."

"Great. I need a smoke." Jungkook huffs, standing, purposefully avoiding your gaze. God you looked so fucking fine in that dress, it made him crazy, sick to his stomach.

He's Jeon Jungkook for god's sake.

The concept of want is so unfamiliar to him. Any girl he wants could easily be in his bed the same day, but you-- he shakes his head bitterly-- you were giving him a hard time, all over what? some lame-ass boyfriend.

"Namjoon you comin' ?" He looks over his shoulder to see both him and Sunny standing, "Mind if I join?" She asks, "The more the merrier."

You watched as the three of them disappeared into the bustling crowd vanishing out of sight. "Where did they go?"

Tae leans forward looking at where the trio had just walked through. "Probably went to go ball up." Tae shrugs, "Which means it's time to really get this night started. First round on me."

It wasn't until three shots later when Jungkook had finally come back, this was the first time you really got a good look at him. He was wearing nothing but a black jacket that had the most delicate body chains striping across his abdomen, giving you a clear view of his sculpted abs and-

Your phone buzzes.

 You: Why are you apologizing? 8:13 pm

 Daehyun: Because you're upset. (now) 9:27 pm

God, Jimin might be right. He doesn't have a clue.

 You: Do you even know why I'm mad? 9:27 pm

 Daehyun: Is it because of the nudes I sent Soo-Min? I was drunk, I promise. It was a mistake. 9:28 pm

You gasp. You had no idea what he was talking about. You were referring to him standing you up when you told all your family that he would be coming. You never knew this had even happened.

 You: What the fuck are you talking about? 9:29 pm

 You: I cannot believe you right now. 9:29 pm

 You: Stop fucking texting me. 9:30 pm

You weren't even sad or disappointed. You were used to him letting you down constantly. "Looks like you need another shot." You look up from the screen in your lap, making eye contact with ringed fingers wrapped around a shot glass with your name on it.

You take the shot in your own grasp, looking Jungkook in the eyes as you down it. Your face wincing a little at the burn in the back of your throat but you were beginning to feel that exciting warmth in your chest.

The strobe lights turn red as Chris Brown's Take You Down begins to play through the loud speakers all around the club. "Wanna dance?" He offered you his hand, your brain was a little hazy and your cheeks were flushed but Jungkook was too hot to resist.

"Love to."

The two of you walk off to the dance floor with the rest of the crowd.

Taehyung looks to Jin who looks to Hoseok who looks to Yoongi.

Yoongi sighs, shaking his head slowly taking another shot. "It's out of my control. Once they step on that floor, their fate is sealed."

It's true, the moment Jungkook's hands were on your hips that swayed to the music you knew you were screwed. You had every right to be apprehensive about going on this stupid trip in the first place, but deep down you knew it was inevitable.

This very moment was destined from the start.

"You look fucking perfect tonight." He whispers in your ear from behind you, subconsciously pushing your hips back on him and Jungkook could swear he's never wanted someone as badly as he wanted you at this very moment.

"Says you," You spin in his hold, now face to face.

His grip on your hips tighten, body unable to maintain its façade for much longer. Your hair was up in a bun tonight, showing off the industrial piercing he never even knew you had.

There were so many things he wanted to know about you, and not just physically. He wanted to be able to sit with you over a cup of coffee and talk about everything and anything.

His tight hold on you prompted a breathless whine to escape your lips but he heard it. "Stop it." He says and your eyebrows scrunch, genuinely confused. "Stop what?"

"Stop tempting me. I'm trying to be respectful." Astonishment wipes over your features. "You're telling me to stop? It's been you all along, making me trip over my words, and being so shirtless and hot all the time, making me forget I have a boyfriend." He chuckles.

"So you admit it. You think about me too?"

You step back.

"Yes, Jungkook. I cannot stop thinking about you and that's my problem. I need to get you out of my head." Your mouth was saying one thing, but with the way he was looking at you, your heart wanted him between your legs.

The almost forgotten feeling of lust finally coursed through your veins. It'd been so long since you'd gotten any action, you needed this.

But you couldn't.

He steps towards you, even closer than before. You could feel his firm body crowding against your own. The way he towered over you made you feel dizzy. He leaned down, ensuring that you could feel his warm breath on the shell of your ear when he spoke "Tell me you don't want me and I'll walk away."

You don't want him. you lie to yourself.

Trying to put these thoughts into words, your mouth opens.

"I need you, Jungkook." Finally admitting it.

There was no going back now, his lips crashed against yours with nothing less than an animalistic desire. It was fast-paced and messy but you loved it.

The dam finally broke.

You kissed with more than your lips, his hands on your waist, squeezing tight as he rolled his hips into you with the rhythm of the music.

This was so so wrong, but it felt so right.

The way his tongue rolled over your bottom lip with such skill made your thighs clench, you could only imagine the things he could do with it--

"Y/n!" Sunny screams your name from behind you, not even processing what you and Jungkook had just been doing while Namjoon was busy enjoying the music behind her.

You turned around, a little breathless and bothered after being disrupted but you were immediately occupied with analyzing Sunny's appearance. For starters her hair was ruffled and looked like it'd been put through the wringer, her lipstick (what was left of it) was fading and a little smudged.

And last that you checked she was wearing lashes when the night began but they were nowhere to be found. "Sunny where did you go-- Oh my god- Did you and Namjoon-" Her non-stop nodding causes you to clasp your hand over your mouth.

"It's him! He remembers me!" The two of you have your moment, squealing before Jungkook whispers in your ear. "Meet me at the elevator in 5." Sunny actually does catch on this time.

"Oh my god!? Are you gonna-"

You think about it, "I don't know!! Should I?! Daehyun just voluntarily admitted to sending nudes to Soo-Min god knows when and-" Sunny groans. "Leave him, for the love of god y/n stand up!" She yells.

"I can't just leave him he's my boyfriend, and it wouldn't make me any better than him." Sunny's eyes roll. "It won't be cheating if you plan on breaking up with his ass tonight. Just hurry up and decide, Jungkook's waiting for you." She winks and it gives you butterflies.

He was waiting for you.

The moment you turned the corner of the hallway, you saw Jungkook waiting outside the elevator as he said he would be, finally pressing the button. "I was afraid you wouldn't come," he laughs internally to himself at the double entendre, knowing Jungkook's track record, this has never been an issue for him.

The two of you step inside the elevator, it would be a long ride up to the 21st floor, the two of you did your best to stay to your respective sides of the elevator until there was a crowd of people that entered as well, pushing you into him.

Completely oblivious to the way your ass was pressed flush against his crotch, he looks up to the ceiling, wondering what he'd done in his past life to deserve this kind of punishment.

A beautiful girl pressed up against him but he couldn't do anything. As the crowd moved, so did you he hisses and your body stills, finally aware of what you were doing.

On the 13th floor the elevator empties completely, leaving just the two of you and you try to move away from him but his grip holds you in place. "Didn't think you'd be running from me so soon." You'd never heard his voice like this. It was deeper, bass full of wants and desires,

He spins you around, he had you cornered.

Looking up to him with that doe gaze of yours. His index finger gently rests under your chin, your gaze was practically begging him to kiss you, but in case he was hesitating you nodded just a little, permitting him to open your lips with his.

This kiss was a lot slower and deeper than the one before. It was soft and sweet, but slowly turned into a full-blown make-out session by the time the elevator made it to the 21st floor.

He leads the way to his room at the end of the hall, beside Hoseok's room.

Jungkook worked on unlocking the door while you chewed on the tip of your acrylic. Were you really about to do this?

"I'm going in my room, and you don't have to follow, but I'm leaving the door unlocked." He says, disappearing behind the door. Looking over your shoulder, your room was 4 doors down.

You could still back out now, it wasn't too late.

All you would need to do is have a long talk with Daehyun.

You scoff, even his name irritated you. Your heart knew things weren't going to work out between the two of you once you got back home, regardless of whether you slept with Jungkook or not.

He's broken your trust far too many times, and besides, Sunny was right, he is an asshole.

You walk into Jungkook's room and make sure to lock the door behind you.

"That's my girl," He purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before gracing you with a heated kiss, the kind of kiss that made you stumble as he walked you back to the door.

"Hope you put that phone on dnd." He whispers, kissing down your neck, skillfully managing to take your hair down at the same time. You looked like the epitome of sin, hair falling over your shoulders as if it fell from grace while your neck was littered with hickeys, your plump bottom lip tugged between those perfect teeth of yours.

Your dress was the first thing to go, he loved it on you, but it served its purpose, and it did it well. Soon his jacket was finally off revealing his muscular build that you'd seen in the fan cams but it couldn't compare to the real thing.

You kissed him back desperately as your legs were wrapped around his waist while he made his way to the bed, dropping you down to your back watching the way you bounced.

Your perfect tits are the first victim of his passionate affection. Leaving tender kisses on the soft flesh, "Jungkook-" you gasp feeling him wrap his lips around your nipples, tongue working hard to push you towards that edge that you'd been inching closer to since you got in here.

He groans as he feels your hands roam over his back, anticipating the feeling of your nails scratching his skin. Finally moving down from your breasts once they were covered with his kisses and hickeys.

You could feel yourself practically soaking through your under, not to mention the way it was sticking to you. "Looks like someone's worked up," he teases, slowly peeling you out of your ruined underwear.

"What's got you so hot and bothered, is it your boyfriend?" You sit up so fast almost getting a head rush and he laughs. "Jungkook." You say and he gives you a look of lust. "What? Say it baby, use your words. Tell me who makes you this wet. Is it me or him?"

You press your legs together, unable to believe that this was turning you on more. "He couldn't turn me on." He looks up to you with wide eyes. "Is that so?" Nodding your head slowly, letting Jungkook gently push you back down to the bed.

On his knees he takes a deep breath at your core, a guttural sound rumbling in his chest as he was face to face with your dripping core. "So you're saying it's me?" he asks, letting his tongue run a flat stripe against your soaked folds.

"YES! It's you Jungkook please, stop teasing, please I can't take it. I'm already so close." You beg, body thrashing around enough for him to pin your legs over his shoulder and to keep you still.

You were stroking his ego, telling you you were already so close and he's barely touched you. Your boyfriend must've been shit in bed, and he was determined to make it up to you. He was going to show you what you've been missing.

Finally eating you out to his heart's content, ignoring the way your feet continued to move frantically over his shoulders he lapped up at your core, flicking his tongue over your clit until your body spasmed uncontrollably. "I'm-" Unable to even finish the sentence before you were blinded by an earth-shattering orgasm.

It ripped through you like a storm and came squirting out of you just like one too. "You've got to fucking kidding me," Jungkook murmurs to himself and you froze. Was he mad?

He stands up, "Of course the hottest girl I've ever seen squirts on my tongue. Good fucking hell, Y/n. It's like you want me obsessed with you." Who was he kidding, he was already obsessed.

He picked you up so carelessly, bringing you to the balcony where it overlooked the Las Vegas strip. You could see the hotel's illuminated pool and all the car lights as they zoomed on the highway far in the distance.

"Hope you're not scared of heights."

Your stomach twisted at the thought of being so high up, but it was all forgotten once your leg was propped up and you felt your folds being prodded open by the fat head of Jungkook's cock.

"No- fuck! Wait." you cursed feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of his size nearly causing you to fall but he held you steady against the railing, bulging biceps on either side of your body, caging you in safely.

Jungkook knew better, this should be the last place he should be doing something like this but with your pretty ass right in front of him it was such a beautiful sight, and the scenery was cool too.

"It's too much," you pant, arms bracing yourself on the fence that kept you from falling 200 feet below. "It's only the tip baby, you sure you can take the whole thing?" You pause in thought, you needed him, all of him. "I can take it. keep going." You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every nook and cranny of your womb.

It felt like he was in your lungs, you were knocked breathless, and he didn't move. Your body went limp in his arms, exactly what he feared would happen. He quite literally split you open, but you were determined to take it.

You clawed at the railing desperately, looking for any kind of relief from what you were feeling. "Deep breaths baby, I'll go slow." You nod, eyes squeezed shut as his hips slowly roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in.

"Oo-oh. fuck. Jungkook, keep going." you moan, head falling onto your hands; feeling what was once pain morphs into an addicting, sweet pleasure, over time his pace picks up until he was fucking into you with no remorse.

Even if no one could see you from this high up, they sure as hell could hear you. The way you cried out his name like a prayer over and over while Jungkook's brain was short-circuiting with the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds it created.

"Does your boyfriend fuck you like this, huh?" He angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace even though you've already come twice now. Your body jolts with each snap of his hips.

You shake your head, but that isn't enough for him, flipping you around so that you're facing him, he pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Use your words Y/n. You're my smart girl, look me in the eyes and tell me that your boyfriend could never fuck you like I do." Your eyes snap open, "He c-could never fuck-!" Jungkook slowed down his thrusts to something so much deeper, your eyes rolled and Jungkook nearly came just at the sight.

"Shit, I'm gonna come." He pants, and with a few more erratic thrusts you feel his warm cum fill you up. He slowly lets you stand but your legs fail you immediately. Scooping you up in his arms effortlessly he brings you to the bed, clearly not done with you.

That's how you found yourself on the brink of your third orgasm while Jungkook plowed into you from behind, obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock.

Your arms had given out long ago hence why your cheek was smushed into the sheets of the bed while you whimpered like a whore. "God you should look at yourself," He laughs almost maniacally from behind you.

Feeling himself approach his climax, "Jungkook- please!" you cried out, the friction only adding to the stimulation, "m' gonna-" you try to get back up on your arms but you couldn't move.

"I wonder what your boyfriend would say if he saw you like this,'' A wicked smile spreads across his lips as he reaches for your phone that was forgotten somewhere on the bed, hitting record.

Pulling you up onto your arms, tugging your hair by a makeshift ponytail, the flash highlights the various bruises all over your body left by yours truly. The audio was picking up his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the room was quiet enough you could probably hear the welt squelch of your cunt sucking in his length with each push.

"Shit, shit, shit!" You cry out, coming once more and your body goes limp, Jungkook ends the recording and tosses the phone to the side while he chases his own high finishing soon after you.

He pulls out slowly, "Y/n, baby? Are you with me?" He taps your cheek gently, and your eyes barely open, "I think you fucked the soul out of me," He dares to flash you a nervous smile as if he hadn't just fucked you dumb.

"Come, let's get you cleaned up."

-

"That was one hell of a trip." You mumble to Sunny on the phone as you wheel your suitcase down the hall to the door of your apartment where there was a big bouquet of flowers.

"Oh my god," You say, crouching down, wincing a little as you did to read the card. "What?" Sunny asks and you explain what you were seeing.

"Do you think they're from Daehyun?" You scoff, "Fat chance."

You open the envelope to read the card aloud,

'To the hottest girl. We should get donuts sometime, I heard you like them cream-filled ;) Text me sometime xxx-xxx-xxx. -J.K'

Sunny squealed in your ear.

"I'll call you back." You say, dialling Jungkook's number.

"Hello?" He answers.

"You got me flowers?" You couldn't stop the smile from spreading across your face, and he could hear it. He closed his fridge and leaned on the counter, "You like 'em?"

Holding the vase in your hand you take a deep sniff, "I love them."

He shakes his head. "This is so sad. You're too easy to impress. Let me treat you better than that jerk, Y/n." Your mouth falls open-

"How- What?"

"Jimin mentioned the details to me but don't get mad at him; it doesn't change the fact that the guy is an asshole." You sigh.

"I know."

"So?" Jungkook starts, waiting for you to say something.

"I think you mentioned something about cream-filled donuts. When and where?"

He smiles.

[fallen-honor]

THINGS I SAW IN BOSTON TODAY

1. Dude t posing in a maid dress in the subway

2. Dude in a kimono and heels

3. BLM protest outside the library

4. Cosplayers

5. People doing tiktok dances in the middle of Newbury st

6. Soap labeled p.p.mint

7. My brother just holding a pigeon

8. Dude on crack walking like jack sparrow waving around a green magician wand

9. Old ass woman with her dogs out climbing a tree

10. A park ranger almost getting bucked off her horse

11. Dude yelling at me YO I BE SMOKING WEED CAUSE BOSTON IS WINDY

12. Dude dressed like the ice king from adventure time booking it through South station

[vhyunjinverse]

SWEET LITTLE THING!✰

f!reader x ryomen sukuna | not proof read | reblog pls !<3

summary : just a look into the everyday life of Sukuna’s sweet little thing. Unfortunately today, Someone’s kidnapped Sukuna’s cute little idiot, and he’s not so happy about it.

warnings : bimbo!reader, plug/gangster!sukuna, age gap (reader is 22 sukuna is 26), bit of a crack fic, suggestive ending, Toji sneak

I am forever riding on Sukuna putting up with Bimbo reader and it being the cutest little thing while he does the most dangerous shit known to man. ✰

Sukuna wasn’t one to fool around with school girls. Did he sit there and gawk with his younger brother at them? Not often. Does he sit there and listen to Yuji rant about how badly he wanted to fuck them? Sometimes. Was he in on Yuji’s little ploy to fuck every girl he tricks into studying with him? Maybe he’d help out a bit, being the older brother he is. Now, did he drive these girls home? Yes. But did he fuck all of them? No, you on the other hand, that was a different story.

“Yujiiii…” you had whined, trailing behind him with a small pout. Your heels clicked across the concrete, your feet hurting from the long walk. “Can we stop please? My toes can’t breathe!” You both were out, not far from Sukua’s apartment that you shared together. Yuji visited often when he wasn’t staying in his dorm for the weekend. Sukuna went out to do his little business that keeps you both in the nice apartment while you and Yuji went to the store. He already regretted it the moment you put on that cute little pair of platform heels.

“I’m going into the store okay? You stay out here, i won’t be long I promise!” Yuji had told you. You whine but nod. “Okayy..don’t take long! Get me some chips please!” You were adorable to say the least. Not the smartest, but cute as hell. That’s what Sukuna liked about you. Speaking of, your phone rang. The cute little picture of Sukuna you took with his mouth full of your nipple as his contact photo. “Hi Kuna!” You smile into the phone. His hard expression softens seeing your face. He loved when you did your makeup, and secretly when you tried to do his (even though he fusses about it afterwards, that’s doesn’t stop him from taking pictures with you afterwards). “Hey mama.” You could see he was smoking. Leaning back in what seemed to be a couch. “You an’ Yuji alright?” You nod. “Mhm! He went into the store so i’m waiting for him outside.”

“Why the hell didn’t you go in with him? Didn’t i tell you it’s dangerous for you to be out on your own?” He could recall the first time he left you in the car while he went to handle business, coming back to some man hitting on you through the car window. He beat the man up..of course, but he still decided from that moment he’d keep his eyes on you at all times. And at this moment it was Yuji. “I’m sorry Kuna..” you frown, biting at your lip. He sighs and rubs his forehead, the blunt in his mouth going for the ashtray. “Show me the store mama.”

You smile and nod, flipping the camera. “Baby,” He had said lowly, clearly irritated. “Hm?” You flip it back around to show your face. “That’s a sex store.”

“Oh..do you think they have chips? I asked Yuji to bring me some.” You hum for a bit, looking down at your boyfriend who hid his smile despite how upset he was in that moment. “Doubt it. Look, mgonna call you back so I can call Yuji. Stay where you are, understand me?” You pucker your lips at the screen as if to kiss him, nodding, “Yes sir!”

That didn’t last long however. You hated being alone, let alone just standing there in heels. Your feet hurt and you were bored. You started to look at the outside signs of the store, which would be the last thing you see before everything went dark.

Sukuna knew he had to be patient with you. He didn’t mind because he loved you. But when he told you something he expected you to take it seriously. After yelling at Yuji so bad the whole store could hear how much Sukuna wanted to kick his ass, and telling him to get both your asses back home, he expected you to be where he told you to be. But once Yuji stepped outside you were no where to be seen. And nothing pissed Sukuna off more than you not answering when he called afterwards. Straight to voicemail, really? Oh he was heated.

“Hey pretty little thing..” you hear once you regain consciousness. Your body felt cold, you regretted wearing such a cute dress, but it was Sukuna’s favorite no matter what the weather would be. “Kuna..?” you groan, shutting your eyes tightly at the first sign of bright light. “Wrong name sweetheart.” You jolt, suddenly feeling scared. You could move, making out the soft cushion of what seemed to be a couch.

“Oh..Sukuna’s gonna be so mad at me..” You sniffle softly, looking up at the large man that wasn’t your lover. He gave you a small smirk before squinting his eyes. “What..you want to call em’?” He was enjoying this. You nodded, “yes please!” He hums and reaches for the phone on the table. “You know..i picked you up cause you looked familiar. Reminded me of this cam girl i used to watch while back.”

“Oh i don’t do that anymore! Kuna didn’t want to do it with me and didn’t want me having sex with other guys..” the man pauses before handing you the phone. “Thirsty?” He starts walking away, “Oh- Yes something to drink will be nice!” You watch as the man walks away and begin calling the number Sukuna made you memorize in case of emergency. The line rang twice before he picked up, “Who the fuck is it?”

“It’s me!” You squeal. Rocking back and fourth on the couch you listen to the silence on the other line before he sucked in a breath. “Where the fuck are you?” You knew he probably had that sickening frown you hated. “I’m not sure.. I just woke up here.” The man comes back, handing you what looked like water before motioning you to pass him the phone, “Oh- um, the man wants to speak now.”

“You tellin me you had such a treasure and didn’t share? Fuck kind’a man are ya huh?” you look down at the cup, biting your lip as Sukuna screamed at the man from the other line. You learned his name was Toji. Setting the cup down you stand, “Can I talk to him now? I wanna go home.” You hold out your hand for the phone. Toji, looks at you before scoffing. “She’s a stupid little thing, doesn’t even know what’s goin on. How ‘bout this- i want this much cash for the bimbo.”

It didn’t take long for Sukuna to come and find you. You sat on the couch while Toji chuckled to himself about the situation. You knew what would happen, he was unaware of course. You felt bad, knowing how Sukuna got when it came to you. Poor guy. When your lover did arrive he knocked on the door. Toji opened it with a wide grin, but it quickly wore off once Sukuna punched him dead in his nose..he fell to the floor quietly.

“Can I go home now?” You look at Sukuna who scoffed at you, holding out his hand. “Did you drink anything? He touch you? Open your mouth let me see.”

“I’m fine! I remembered not to drink from creepy men.”

Afterwards, he took you to your shared apartment, walking you past Yuji on the couch who had his head down. Sukuna sure scolded him, you knew. “Cmon we’re gonna take a shower.” He grunts as you tried to take the heels off as you walked towards your room. “Can we have sex afterwards?”

“I’ll see.”

read more here

[ozzgin]

Girl I love Daitou but I'm ngl I need more of Yazuya😭 if you can, can you write headcanons about him please? I'd appreciate it thank you <3

Yandere!Yakuza x Reader Headcanons

Ultimate dating guide and palate cleanser featuring the gangster boys (Kazuya and Daitou). For those that have been left hanging for proper romance.

Content: gender neutral reader, mildly NSFW

Tags: @swagbucksjester @lucienbarkbark @moonieper @nu-vino @vee-love @tamaki-simp @pinkazelma

[Yakuza Masterlist]

Kazuya

Kazuya was raised in a brothel, surrounded by women, so he is much more knowledgeable than the average man when it comes to feminine matters. Similar to someone who grew up having sisters, you can talk to him about anything and everything and not only will he be empathetic towards your problems, but he might offer tips and tricks you didn’t even know about. Not too shocking when he’s already heard multiple variations of whatever is bothering you.

The downside to his upbringing is that intercourse has always felt terribly transactional to him. He has a hard time associating it with intimate relationships. He will flirt a lot with you, but despite all the sexual innuendos, he won’t actually do anything until later in the relationship. He struggles with the irrational worry that sex will somehow taint the quality of your bond, making it feel cheap. Dating you has helped him realize that such things can be done out of love as well.

He is extremely affectionate and well mannered when dealing with you. Which may sometimes cause you to forget there’s a reason him and Daitou are good friends. While he isn’t as ill-tempered as his younger self, it doesn’t take much to anger him still. It’s a rare occurrence for you to witness it, but when he has it out for someone, he nearly matches Daitou in ruthlessness. He's very prideful and protective and will not hesitate to crush whoever challenges him or messes with you.

If you have a group of (girl)friends, you can confidently bring him with you with the only risk being that he’ll steal your spotlight. He can charismatically slide his way into any kind of conversation and you can hardly believe that this is the same man cracking gross jokes over his latest murder to his fellow criminal buddies. You might consider him a social chameleon, having no trouble adapting to any environment.

Smokes like a chimney and you have to slap the cigarette out of his hand sometimes because he’ll just light one up anywhere (including your bedroom).

Now this one is for the ones that are into it: God forbid you accidentally call him Daddy because he’ll ride that high until the end of time. He loves the idea and will tease about it with every opportunity. “Terrible weather today. Should Daddy drive you to work instead?”, or “Is that any way to talk to Daddy?” for when you’re out in public.

Daitou

One neat detail about being with Daitou is that you get to see a lot of things you took for granted in a new light. Whatever you assumed was a common experience for everyone, like having a picnic or going to the amusement park, is utterly foreign to him. He was raised by the Yakuza and barely interacted with anyone before meeting Kazuya; civilian past times were never presented to him. So you get to witness his shocked and delighted expression as he tries all these things with you.

Thankfully you don’t have to worry about teaching him the…intimate aspects of a relationship. Kazuya has that covered. And Daitou seems to be a rather fast learner, because he’s incredibly gentle and careful with you. Part of it is due to his own fear of messing it up. He’s only ever been good at breaking and killing people. Despite that, he loves you so much. He has to be the best boyfriend for your sake. Surely these hands of his can do more than just damage.

He might actually be a little too eager to learn the ropes. More than once you’ve walked in on him reading a graphic manga and nearly choked, mumbling an apology for interrupting his…activity. He’ll look at you with a confused expression, completely unbothered and wondering why you’re so embarrassed. He was flipping through the pages for ideas, given he’s never had any kind of experience himself. Ah. That explains the random kinky gestures he’s started doing without shame or doubt. You’ll have to do some tweaking in the near future.

This may come as a surprise, but Daitou is exceptionally good at household chores like cleaning and cooking. Registering with the Yakuza involves a mandatory apprenticeship of several years where you do menial tasks for your higher ups. Additionally, the time he served in jail has left him with a lot of discipline and organization. Somewhere between adorable and comical is how you’d describe the sight of him kneeling on the floor and carefully folding the kitchen towels while waiting for the stew to simmer.

Daitou isn’t exactly what you’d traditionally call jealous. His only frame of reference is Boss, thus he will treat you with the same kind of loyalty and dedication. You wouldn’t expect a mere nobody to walk up to the Head of the Family, so anyone approaching you will, similarly, be violently kept away until their intentions are clear. You are his most prized possession, after all. He’d do anything for you.

[cumironi]

HEART SPIKES AND HEATENS

(✽) summary. it was supposed to be your date with the boyfriends, but it’s raining and none of you want to spend time being cold and wet. . . so, you three decided to spend the day at the apartment, drawings doodles on sukuna’s tattoos and gojo’s arm, getting all high and stupid.

featuring. gojo satoru, ryomen sukuna (college au)

warning. established relationship, poly! suku-go, fluff, crack, lots and lots of name-calling, petname(s), suggestive words/conversation(s), smoke jōint(s), high/drunk,

it’s 3 pm, and the rain hasn’t let up for hours, falling harshly against the windows of the apartment and turning the sky a dull, heavy gray. the soft patter of the downpour fills the living room, mixing with the faint sound of lo-fi music playing through the speakers. the three of you had planned a date today—something special—but the rain decided otherwise. still, none of you seem to mind too much. instead of heading out, you’ve all settled into a quiet, lazy afternoon together.

you’re still dressed in your intended date outfit: a crisp white cropped shirt that hugs your shoulders and arms perfectly, paired with a pleated black pinstripe skirt that sits snugly on your waist. your hair falls naturally, slightly tousled now, framing your face as you lay on your stomach across the soft carpet in the living room. your bare legs stretch out behind you, toes curling occasionally as you focus on your task.

in front of you lies sukuna, sprawled lazily on his back like he owns the place. his dark green oversized jeans hang low on his hips, the fabric bunched at his ankles where his bare feet peek out. he wears a black sleeveless shirt that clings to his toned torso, showing off the intricate black ink of his tattoos that trail up his arm and over his shoulder. one arm rests in front of you, muscles relaxed, his hand stretched open to give you full access to his skin. his other hand, however, holds a joint lazily between two fingers, the faint wisps of smoke curling toward the ceiling. sukuna looks half-lidded, eyes fluttering closed now and then as he exhales with a content sigh, clearly enjoying the stillness of the day.

gojo is lying nearby, parallel to sukuna, with his arms tucked lazily behind his head. he’s dressed comfortably too—black baggy jeans with a loose black t-shirt layered under a dark brown jacket that lay boneless on the floor not far away. the soft fabric is slightly crumpled, evidence that he’s been lounging for a while. gojo’s white hair flops over his forehead, a contrast to the dark palette of his outfit. he’s watching you, an easy grin tugging at his lips every time you focus just a little too hard on coloring sukuna’s tattoos.

“what are you even doing?” gojo finally asks, the teasing lilt in his voice breaking the calm. he cranes his neck up slightly, his bright blue eyes twinkling as they settle on the small pile of colored markers scattered around you.

you don’t look up, chewing on your bottom lip as you carefully drag a bright pink marker across one of the roses etched into sukuna’s forearm. “i’m fixing him.”

sukuna lazily opens one eye, shifting his arm ever-so-slightly to keep his muscles relaxed for you. “fixin’ me, huh?” he repeats, voice low and rough. he takes a deep inhale of the joint, his chest rising and falling with the exhale, before he turns his gaze to gojo.

gojo grins wider in response, clearly amused by your antics. “you don’t think i’m pretty enough already?” sukuna teases, his eyes narrowing mischievously. sukuna watches idly as you continue to add color to his skin, your concentration unwavering. “i thought you loved my ink, doll,” he adds, his expression turning slightly smug. he takes another draw of the joint before holding it out to you lazily.

gojo chuckles at his remark, his gaze flickering between you and sukuna before his eyes are fixed on you, watching every small movement you make in fascination. “you’re both plenty pretty,” you say with a small huff, not looking up from your task. sukuna chuckles, a deep rumble from his chest, while gojo lets out a soft snort of amusement.

you continue coloring, your fingers wrapping around sukuna’s arm to steady it. you can feel his muscles under the skin, tense but at ease, and you take silent pride in the fact that he’s allowing you to do this. sukuna hums low in his throat, the vibrations running through his chest and into your fingertips. “yeah, baby?” he asks, his voice laced with a hint of mockery. despite the playful tones, his muscles are relaxed under your hands, allowing you to continue your work without any resistance from him.

gojo, ever observant, watches the small interaction with a hint of an amused smile, his blue eyes tracking the way your fingertips move across sukuna’s skin. he keeps his mouth shut, letting you two have your moment. you pause for just a second, sukuna’s words rolling through the air with that deep, teasing hum of his, and the corners of your lips twitch up. your hand stills, fingertips resting lightly against the inked designs on his forearm. then, without missing a beat, you tilt your head, meeting his gaze with narrowed eyes and a perfectly exaggerated mockery of his tone.

“yeah, baby?” you mimic, dragging out the words with as much sarcasm as you can muster, your voice high and mocking as you flutter your lashes dramatically. the look you shoot him is equal parts playful and smug, daring him to say something else.

sukuna’s lip curls into an amused smirk, the vibrations of his chuckle reverberating under your fingertips. “watch it,” he mutters, though there’s no real bite to his words—just that lazy, teasing drawl he always uses when you push back.

without missing a beat, you pull the cap off a bright yellow marker with a quiet pop and switch focus, a devious glint in your eyes. “you know what? you don’t have enough stars.” you lean closer to his arm, the tip of the pen pressing carefully against the space between his intricate tattoos. little bursts of yellow start to appear—stars scattered randomly, as if you’re adding your own personal constellation to his skin.

“seriously?” sukuna mutters, his brow arching as he tilts his head just enough to watch what you’re doing. “this is what we’re doing now?”

“oh, absolutely,” you shoot back, grinning as you carefully dot a smaller star next to a skull. “it’s called enhancing the art, baby. i’m making you look heavenly.”

gojo, who’s been silently watching this exchange like a spectator at a comedy show, finally snorts, the sound breaking through the rain and the low music. “heavenly? yeah, right. sukuna’s more like the villain who got glitter bombed by accident.”

you don’t even pause, your focus still on the yellow stars you’re meticulously adding to sukuna’s tattoos. the marker glides across his skin as you hum softly, a noncommittal sound that borders on mock innocence. without looking up—without even missing a beat—you deliver your response, deadpan and smooth as ever.

“yeah. a hot one.”

sukuna’s smirk widens at your words, his sharp gaze flickering to your face as you remain focused, completely unbothered. there’s a beat of silence, filled only by the steady scratch of the marker and the quiet patter of rain outside. then, without warning, he shifts—just enough to lean closer, his movement lazy and fluid, like a predator that doesn’t need to rush.

before you can react, he presses a kiss against your cheek, the warmth of it brief but deliberate, his lips lingering just long enough to catch you off guard. “cute,” he murmurs, the word low and teasing as it rumbles against your skin. there’s no mockery in his tone now—just something undeniably smug and pleased, as if he’s won a game you didn’t even realize you were playing.

gojo lets out another amused snort from his position nearby, watching the two of you interact. “yeah, cute,” he mutters, his voice filled with an affectionate annoyance that borders on fond. he sits up slightly, leaning back on one elbow as he takes a hit from the joint after he steal from sukuna’s fingers. the smoke curls from his lips as he exhales, his gaze wandering over your form, still laying on the carpet, the colorful markers surrounding you.

you don’t look up, the soft hum escaping your lips acting as both acknowledgment and dismissal—a subtle, wordless response that says you’ve heard them but refuse to give them the satisfaction of a full reaction.

yet despite your calm facade, a small, barely-there smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. it’s the kind of smile that lingers, slow and unintentional, betraying the fact that sukuna’s kiss and gojo’s teasing have amused you more than you’d care to admit.

your focus remains on sukuna’s arm, the yellow stars you’re carefully adding between his tattoos growing brighter under your meticulous work. the soft patter of rain fills the space again, the atmosphere warm and still as if the three of you exist in your own little world.

sukuna’s eyes narrowed slightly as he caught the faint curve of your lips forming a small smile. though he didn’t comment, his sharp gaze lingered on you with quiet intensity. beneath your fingers, his muscles remained loose and unbothered, but the subtle shift in his posture betrayed a certain vigilance—as if he was waiting for something unseen.

gojo, on the other hand, let out a low scoff, clearly amused by your expression. his smirk grew as he tilted his head back lazily, taking a slow drag from the joint between his fingers. even as the smoke curled upward, his sharp blue eyes stayed trained on you, brimming with mischief. meanwhile, sukuna’s focus didn’t waver, though his eyelids grew heavier, the warm glow of the room and the haze of the joint casting a languid spell over him. the faintest hint of a grin tugged at his lips, though it was difficult to tell if it was from amusement or pure contentment.

gojo stretched out with an exaggerated groan, sprawling across the carpet floor with his arms spread wide. “mmm,” he sighed, his voice low and drawling as he stared at the ceiling. the soft scratching of the marker against sukuna’s arm was the only sound filling the cozy quiet, accompanied by the rhythmic patter of rain against the windows.

sukuna let you continue your work on his skin, utterly unbothered, while gojo suddenly broke the tranquility. “hey,” he muttered, lets out a soft sigh, his eyes still glued to the ceiling as he mutters in a mock-whine, “can i be next?”

you hum softly, the sound nonchalant yet sweet, as you give a small nod of your head without glancing up from sukuna’s arm. “don’t worry,” you say, your tone light but teasing as your marker continues its gentle path over his skin, adding the finishing touches to another star before changing color for another tattoo. “you’re next.”

an exaggerated grin spreading across gojo’s lips at your words, head tilted towards you. “yeah? what are you thinking for me? something cool, right?” looking up for a second, you meet gojo’s expectant gaze with a deadpan expression that doesn’t match the devious glint in your eyes before drowning in a task in hand. “how about pink hearts?”

sukuna lets out a snort, his arm trembling with suppressed laughter as your words register. his amusement is subtle but unmistakable, his crimson eyes gleaming with unspoken humor. gojo, on the other hand, roll his eyes. “pink hearts?” he echoes, his tone teetering between mock outrage and barely concealed amusement. “you’d decorate me like a damn valentine’s day card?”

your laughter spills out in response, soft and warm, resonating through the cozy atmosphere of the room. your gaze finally lifts to meet gojo’s fully, a playful sparkle dancing in your eyes. “it’s cool,” you quip, dragging the word out with exaggerated teasing as you snap the yellow marker’s cap back into place with a satisfying click. “it’s edgy. you’ll look like everyone’s valentine at the same time.”

gojo props himself up on his elbows, his brows furrowing in mock indignation as he glares between the two of you. “edgy? hearts aren’t edgy—they’re soft and cute. i’m cool and edgy.”

you roll your eyes, grinning as you grab a pink marker and hold it up like a trophy. “oh, don’t worry. i’ll make them edgy. spiky hearts with little sparkles. super intimidating.”

gojo lets out another groan, collapsing back onto the carpet dramatically as he throws one arm over his face. “this is emotional sabotage,” he mutters, though the smile tugging at the corner of his lips betrays him. “i trusted you, and you’re turning me into a walking valentine’s day ad.”

“you’ll love it,” you shoot back, uncapping the pink marker with a flourish and holding it up like it’s some kind of divine weapon. your grin is wicked, your tone dripping with smug confidence as you add, “you always do.”

gojo peeks at you from under his arm, his lips twitching like he’s trying to fight back a smile. “i do not.”

“oh, but you do,” you counter smoothly, already leaning toward him with the marker poised. “you’ll look so cool.” you exaggerate the word, drawing it out as if you’re promising him something legendary. “spiky hearts, sparkles, and a little blue? the edgiest valentine alive.”

sukuna hums low in his throat, clearly enjoying the exchange as his head turns just enough to watch. “gojo, just give up already. she’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

“i do not—” gojo starts to protest, but his words are cut off as you swipe the marker across his arm in one smooth motion, the first spiky heart taking shape before he can move. he stares at it, stunned for half a second, before groaning dramatically. “oh, great. this is how my legacy ends.”

“a masterpiece,” you declare proudly, biting back a laugh as you start to add sparkles around the heart. “you’re welcome, by the way.”

sukuna watches, his expression still lazy and content as he lets out an amused huff. he’s enjoying the spectacle, his eyes flickering between gojo's dramatic reactions and your smug expression.

gojo, meanwhile, continues to lament his apparent downfall. “my reputation,” he moans, dramatically flinging his free arm across his face. “ruined. all because of some pink hearts.” he glances up at you, a mixture of mock irritation and genuine affection in his gaze. “i am not wrapped around your finger,” he protests, his tone still half-hearted as he watches you work.

you chuckle softly, shaking your head as you lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to gojo’s arm—right above one of the freshly drawn spiky hearts. “i know,” you murmur, the corners of your lips curling into a warm smile as you meet his gaze. despite the teasing, there’s a flicker of affection in your voice, soft enough to ease his dramatic pout.

gojo blinks at you, stunned for just a beat, before the faintest dusting of pink colors his cheeks. he clears his throat, attempting to regain his composure as he mutters, “well, good. as long as you know.”

without missing a beat, you pick up a blue marker, uncapping it with an exaggerated flourish as you lean back to examine your “canvas.” “come on, stop pouting,” you tease, nudging his side lightly with your elbow. “i used another color too. balance, baby. artistic integrity.”

“artistic integrity, my ass,” he grumbles, though his lips twitch into a grin as he peeks down at his arm, now adorned with spiky pink hearts and tiny blue accents. “you’re lucky i’m this handsome—i can pull anything off.”

from his spot, sukuna snorts, the sound deep and full of amusement. “keep telling yourself that, pretty boy.”

gojo shoots him a glare, half-serious but softened by the lingering pink on his cheeks. you just shake your head, smiling as you add another finishing touch to the design—because if nothing else, you’re thorough with your work.

you frown dramatically, a playful pout forming on your lips as you glance at sukuna. “so rudeee,” you draw out the words, the mock hurt in your tone exaggerated as you giggle. “’m over here, pouring my artistic soul into you two, and this is the thanks i get?”

sukuna chuckles, clearly amused by your exaggerated protest. he tilts his head, the movement lazy and slow, his eyes fixed on yours as he smirks. “my apologies,” he says, the words rumbling deep in his chest. “your sacrifice shall not be forgotten, doll.” gojo rolls his eyes, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he watches the exchange. he props himself up on one elbow, his gaze flickering between the two of you. “i take it back. your art sucksss.”

you let out a dramatic sigh, exaggerating the weight of it, though you keep working with focus. your playful pout is still in place, but you don’t say anything further. you just continue adding tiny details, not letting their teasing faze you.

the room falls quiet for a moment, but you can feel both of their eyes on you while they busy passing the joint to each other, their gazes softened, watching every movement with something akin to admiration. your hair falls across your face and shoulder, the stray strands brushing against your cheek, and one of the markers put a home in your ear, leaves a faint pink smudge on your ear and cheek, both that you are unaware of. you continue your work with the cap of the marker wedged between your teeth, your focus purely on the task at hand.

sukuna watches silently, his eyes tracking every move you make, his expression softer than before. from his angle, he can see every detail—the way your hair falls across your face, the smudged marker on your cheek, the concentrated expression on your face as you work. his muscles are relaxed, but there’s a hint of tension there too, as if he’s holding back from reaching out.

gojo, meanwhile, just grins, his eyes flickering between your face and the masterpiece taking shape on his arm. “cute,” he murmurs, the word more affectionate than mocking.

sukuna’s eye flick to gojo for a moment, silently watching the affectionate look on his face, before looking back at you. there’s another moment of quiet, the only sound being your steady breathing and the soft sound of the marker on skin. gojo, apparently feeling sukuna’s gaze, turns his head, their eyes meeting for a moment. there’s a brief, unspoken exchange there, a silent understanding.

sukuna’s lips curl into a small smirk, his eyes flickering back to you, his expression still oddly soft. the pink-haired man tears a scoff, rolling his eyes away from you and a halo of smoke swirls out of his lips, “brat,” a mutter could be heard for you.

your eyes flicker briefly to him at the sound of his mutter, your concentration breaking for a moment. “i heard that,” you say, the corner of your lips curling up in a slight smile.

gojo, meanwhile, chuckles softly at the exchange, clearly enjoying the banter. he raises his arm, examining the now complete design you had worked on, his gaze flickering back to you. “i gotta hand it to you, doll—spiky hearts look even better than i imagined.”

you don’t even look up, still absorbed in your task, your hand moving with precision as you add a few final touches. the pink marker glides smoothly over the skin, and you carefully add a few little blue stars, scattering them around the design like tiny accents.

“i know you’ll appreciate it eventually,” you say nonchalantly, the teasing tone in your voice clear, though you don't let your focus waver for a second. with the last stroke of your marker, you pull his arm away, leaning back slightly to examine your work. you give a small nod to yourself, satisfied. “done,” you say, your smile a mixture of smugness and quiet pride.

you glance up at gojo then, finally meeting his gaze. “not bad, right baby? spiky hearts and all.”

gojo grins as he looks down at his arm, admiring the final results. “not bad? doll, these are art masterpieces. i feel like i should frame my arm and put it in a damn museum or something.” he raises his arm, letting out a dramatic gasp, “oh, the sacrifices i make for beauty. i bet even paris of troy would shed a tear at this sight.”

sukuna, despite his lazy exterior, actually lets out a low chuckle at gojo’s exaggerated reaction, his lip curling up in a sly smirk. you let out a squeal of excitement, your voice high-pitched and bubbly as you mirror gojo’s over-the-top enthusiasm. “i know, right?!” your excitement is contagious, practically bouncing with energy as you grab sukuna’s arm and drape it over gojo’s, positioning them side by side like they’re two precious pieces of art.

sitting on your legs, with your calves resting comfortably on the back of your thighs, you expertly slide your hand into gojo’s pocket, pulling out his phone with practiced ease. the mischievous glint in your eyes intensifies as you quickly open the camera app, positioning the two arms just right to capture the perfect shot.

“this is going to be legendary,” you announce, snapping the picture with dramatic flair. you pause for a moment, inspecting the shot with a critical eye, before giving a nod of approval. “yup, this is museum-quality stuff right here.”

you can feel their eyes on you as you settle between them, your body nestled between sukuna and gojo on the carpet. with the phone in hand, you zoom in on the picture, your focus drawn to the vibrant pink hearts and tiny blue stars scattered across their arms. you can’t help but laugh softly at the ridiculousness of it all.

“you two look so silly,” you comment, your playful grin widening as you swipe through the photo to get a better view. “seriously, this is peak art... but also kind of ridiculous.”

gojo, ever the charismatic showman, shoots you an exaggerated pout, his tone dripping with mock betrayal. “silly? ridiculous? you wound me, doll. we look badass!” sukuna’s quiet chuckle rumbles in response to gojo’s theatrics, the corner of his mouth twitching with faint amusement. yet, beneath his sharp smirk lies a flicker of something softer, almost imperceptible—a rare glimpse of tenderness he doesn’t often show.

you, however, are entirely engrossed in the photo, oblivious to the dynamic between the two men. your fingers pinch and spread the screen, zooming in on the pink hearts and smudges adorning their arms. gojo takes the opportunity to lean in, his chin resting on your shoulder as his eyes follow your movements, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

humming softly, you finally lower the phone, a playful grin spreading across your face as you lift your hands to inspect them in the air. your skin is streaked with colorful smudges—bright pink, soft blue, and a few haphazard lines of purple—and the sight makes you smile. “looks like i got in on the action too,” you muse, your voice light with amusement.

your small chuckle fills the room as you continue to admire your handiwork, completely unaware of the way gojo’s gaze softens as he watches you. his eyes follow the movements of your hands, his smile widening at the colorful chaos you’ve created. even sukuna, in his understated way, glances at you with a rare sense of contentment.

gojo’s eyes slide from the photo to your hands, zeroing in on the rainbow of smudges decorating your skin like some kind of art experiment gone wrong. his lips twitch upward into a mischievous grin as he chuckles. “look at you, doll,” he starts, his tone laced with teasing affection. “you look like you’re about to host a daycare finger-painting for toddlers 101.”

sukuna, lounging nearby, rolls his eyes and lets out a derisive scoff. “daycare?” he mutters, his voice dry and just loud enough for you to hear. “more like an after-school program for disasters.”

your gaze shifts from your mess-covered hands to sukuna’s long, relaxed fingers, honing in on the joint he’s casually holding like it’s calling your name. without even a hint of warning, you dart forward like a caffeine-fueled gremlin, snatching it straight from his grasp with a swipe so quick it could’ve been a magic trick.

sukuna’s brows shoot up in surprise before settling into an amused arch, his lips curving into the faintest smirk. “bold move,” he remarks, clearly entertained by your antics.

ignoring him entirely, you bring the joint to your lips, taking the slowest, most dramatic drag in the history of bad decisions. exhaling a plume of smoke like you’re starring in a rebellious indie film, you lean back with a smug grin. “i’mma good teacher, y’know,” you declare, your voice tinged with mock self-importance.

gojo, who’s been silently observing this entire circus, finally loses it. he bursts out laughing, clutching his stomach as he leans back. “oh, yeah, top-tier educator right here!” he chokes out between wheezes. “if the subject is how to steal people’s vices and look ridiculously proud of it, you’re a genius!”

sukuna’s lips curl into a crooked smirk, his sharp eyes fixed on you with a mix of intrigue and bemusement. he lets out a low, gravelly chuckle, the sound rich with amusement. “oh yeah?” he drawls, his voice dripping with lazy confidence. “think you’ve got what it takes to teach me something?”

gojo, on the other hand, is already grinning like a kid watching chaos unfold. his gaze flickers between you and sukuna, fully aware of the game you’re playing and absolutely loving every moment of it. leaning back with a casual air, he watches you take another slow drag, the smoke curling lazily in the air as a mischievous smirk spreads across your lips. the sheer audacity of the scene only fuels his entertainment, his eyes twinkling with delight.

you exhale the smoke with a slow, deliberate grin, your gaze locking on sukuna as you tilt your head, feigning innocence. “well, for starters,” you say smoothly, “you can stop being such a greedy ass and learn to share the good stuff with your partners.”

sukuna’s smirk widens, his sharp gaze narrowing in mock offense as he tilts his head, clearly unbothered. “greedy? me? nah, doll,” he drawls, voice dripping with sarcastic charm. “i’m just a connoisseur of life’s finer pleasures. no crime in appreciating quality.”

gojo snorts so hard he nearly chokes, his laughter spilling out like he’s just heard the joke of the century. “finer pleasures? you mean hogging everything good like a dragon on a pile of gold?” he quips, his grin so wide it looks borderline painful.

sukuna rolls his eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t fall out of his head. he is glaring at gojo with an expression that screams try me, clown. “oh, shut up,” he fires back, feigning annoyance as he snatches the joint from you, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrays his amusement. “i’ll share when i feel like it—maybe.”

gojo leans back, sprawling like he owns the entire room, his smirk practically radiating smugness. “sure, sukuna. we all know your idea of sharing is letting us watch you enjoy it. greedy bastard.”

you can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous exchange, shaking your head as you hand the joint back to sukuna. “seriously, you’re both like kids fighting over the last slice of pizza,” you deadpan, a grin tugging at your lips. “greedy asses, the both of you.”

sukuna snatches the joint back with that signature smirk, his tone dripping with fake irritation. “hey, don’t lump me in with him,” he grumbles, flicking his wrist toward gojo like he’s flicking off a fly. gojo’s jaw drops, and he presses a hand to his chest as though sukuna just insulted his entire bloodline. “hey, what’s that supposed to mean? i’m a saint compared to you, jackass.”

sukuna rolls his eyes so hard they might fall out of his head, his voice dry as sandpaper. “yeah, sure, you’re a saint. and i’m mother theresa, motherfucker.”

gojo practically cackles, leaning back like he’s heard the greatest joke of the century. “oh, please. i have far more angelic behavior than you do. i’m practically a saint compared to mr. grouchy over here.”

you glance between the two of them, raising an eyebrow as you hold back a snicker. “wow,” you interject, voice dripping with sarcasm. “what a holy duo we’ve got here. should i start calling you ‘saint gojo’ and ‘pope sukuna’ or just skip straight to planning your canonization?”

gojo lights up like it’s christmas morning. “saint gojo does have a nice ring to it!” sukuna groans, dragging a hand down his face. “great. now he’s never gonna shut up about it.” you roll your eyes at their bickering, a playful sigh escaping your lips. “idiot,” you mutter, shifting your position with ease. you rest your head on sukuna’s stomach, your hair spilling over him, while your legs casually drape over gojo’s waist, trapping him in place.

“comfy?” sukuna drawls, his smirk lingering as he glances down at you, though he makes no move to push you off. he passes the joint to gojo with an almost lazy flick of his fingers.

gojo takes it with a dramatic flourish, holding it like it’s a prized treasure. “oh, look at that,” he says, his voice dripping with mock reverence. “sukuna finally shares. truly a miracle for the ages.” you chuckle softly, a little smirk makes its way to your lips, tugging the edge softly. “don’t let it get to your head, baby. one good deed doesn’t make him a saint.”

sukuna lets out a low scoff, his expression feigning offense. “oh, please,” he says, “i’m plenty saintly, doll,” he replies, his tone filled with mock irritation. “and i don’t need a single good deed to prove my sainthood. you’re both just jealous of my undeniable benevolence.”

gojo takes a slow drag, his eyes flickering down to you sprawled across his lap. a smirk dances on his lips as he watches you get comfortable. “oh, please,” he quips, ’you’re the least saintly person i know. you’re the devil incarnate, you know that?”

you roll your eyes, the sarcasm practically dripping from your voice as you retort, “oh, absolutely. sukuna’s a shining beacon of morality and grace. i mean, saints everywhere must be quaking in their halos knowing he’s out here setting the standard.”

sukuna snorts, his lips twitching into a smirk as he lazily tilts his head to look at you. “glad you finally see the truth, doll.” without missing a beat, you glance at gojo, pointing a finger at him as you continue, “and you’re no better, satoru. calling someone the devil while sitting there with that smug, ‘holier-than-thou’ face? talk about irony.”

sukuna let out a low chuckle, clearly amused by your banter. “yeah, doll, glad you finally get it.”

gojo, meanwhile, feigns a look of mock offense, his hand moving in the air in dramatic fashion. “me, smug? holier-than-thou? i’m just stating facts, doll. it’s not my fault that i’m so damn perfect. and clearly, it’s not my fault you’re both a pair of heathens.” he takes a slow drag of the joint, his eyes trained on you as he blows out a stream of smoke. “and you’re one to talk, doll. you’re no saint yourself.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes dramatically as you look at gojo, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “what the fuck do you mean, ‘i’m no saint’?” you throw your hands up in mock frustration. “i’m a perfect picture of a saint compared to you two. i’m sure as hell a better person than the two of you combined.”

you reach for the joint in gojo’s hand, taking a slow drag before blowing the smoke out with a satisfied grin. “the only bad thing about me,” you add, the words laced with playful mockery, “is because of you two bad influence. so, really, you should be thanking me for not being worse.” your fingers that holding the joint swing around as you pointing at your two boyfriends.

sukuna and gojo’s reactions to your sarcastic outburst were priceless. their faces twisted in mock outrage, and it was clear they were both enjoying the show. sukuna’s lip curled into a sly, almost mischievous grin as he chimed in, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “oh, doll, you’re a saint alright. a saintly brat.”

meanwhile, gojo put on his best dramatic scoff like he’d just been hit with the most devastating betrayal. “thank you? thank you?! as if you’re not just as bad as us. in fact, you’re damn worse than us.”

before you could even react, gojo snatched the joint back from your hand with a smug smirk. his eyes locked onto yours with that signature playful intensity, narrowing in that way that always made you feel like he was about to pull some ridiculous stunt. “we influence you? yeah, right. you’re just as bad, if not worse. you don’t need our influence to be a little hellion. you’re naturally devilish, doll.” his voice oozed with mock teasing, every word dripping with exaggerated amusement.

you can’t help but roll your eyes at their simultaneous reactions. gojo, with his exaggerated expressions, and sukuna, with his sly grin. it’s almost comical how they both manage to be so different, yet so irritating at the same time.

“please,” you scoff, a hint of challenge in your eyes as you respond. “i’m only this bad because of you two. i mean, look at yourselves. you’re not exactly paradigms of virtue."

gojo’s eyes widened in mock horror, his posture exaggerated as if you had just delivered the ultimate, unbelievable audacity. “oh, doll, you wound me!” he exclaimed dramatically, his voice rising with faux indignation. “are you saying we’re not the picture of innocence? how could you?” his expression was a mix of feigned hurt and playful sarcasm, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

sukuna, however, didn’t even bother with such theatrics. he just let out a low, amused snort, the corner of his lips curling up into a smirk. “yeah, we’re practically angels compared to you.” his tone was effortless, as though he were used to this kind of banter by now, and nothing could rattle him.

with a languid stretch of his arm, sukuna reached over, his fingers brushing lightly against gojo’s as he nonchalantly snatched the joint from his hand, not even sparing a glance at him. he brought it to his lips with an almost bored expression, taking a long, lazy drag as though the whole situation was beneath him. after a moment, he exhaled the smoke slowly, his eyes gleaming with that characteristic wickedness. “but you’re right. we’re far from virtuous. guess you’re just stuck with a pair of heathens for boyfriends, huh?” he said with a raised brow, his voice dripping with amusement.

you hummed thoughtfully, pretending to consider his words with exaggerated seriousness. then, with a sly grin curling at the edges of your lips, you reached out, your fingers grazing sukuna’s wrist with purpose. you gently guided his hand, bringing the joint to your lips with a delicate movement, taking a slow, deliberate drag. you let the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling it lazily, watching the tendrils of smoke swirl in the air like a fleeting, ephemeral thing.

“sadly.” you let the word hang in the air, your voice soft but tinged with mock sorrow. with a playful tilt of your head, you added, “nobody wants you two heathens... so i guess i had to pick you up, huh?” your tone was laced with teasing, and you gave them both a look that was part challenge, part amusement, knowing full well how much you enjoyed throwing their own words back at them.

gojo’s handsome face contorting with mock devastation, as if your words had pierced him to the core. his fingers curled tightly into the fabric of his semi-wrinkled shirt, pulling it as though he were trying to keep his very soul from escaping. “oh, the pain! the absolute betrayal!” he gasped, his voice carrying a note of exaggerated agony, the air around him charged with over-the-top theatrics.

sukuna, however, simply chuckled darkly, his lips curling into a smug smile that only heightened his arrogance. “oh yeah, doll? you had to pick us up? you think you did us a favor? we’re the best damn thing that’s happened to you.” his voice was rich with self-assurance, the words dripping with his usual brand of ruthless confidence, as though he were the undeniable prize in this game.

you couldn’t help it—your snort of laughter slipped out before you could even contain it. it was a sound that surprised you, but you quickly smothered it with an amused glance at sukuna, your gaze lingering just long enough to catch the glint of satisfaction in his eyes. then, you shifted your attention to gojo, your toes lightly grazing over his stomach, tracing the fabric of his shirt in a soft, teasing motion as you allowed a chuckle to escape your lips. “glad to know delusion is free, huh?”

you leaned back slightly, lifting your leg with deliberate care, letting your smirk speak volumes. “but hey, keep thinking you’re the best thing that’s happened to me. you’re both good for entertainment, at least.” your voice had the right amount of mock affection, as though you were toying with them, enjoying the very idea of their inflated egos.

gojo raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk that matched the mischief in his eyes. “delusion is free?” he repeated, his tone dripping with mockery, his expression a mixture of challenge and amusement. “please, doll, don’t be so quick to dismiss our greatness.”

sukuna scoffed lowly, the sound rich with feigned irritation. his expression flickered for a moment with mock annoyance, and he leaned forward slightly, his voice taking on a sharper edge. “entertainment, huh? is that all we are to you? just a couple of jesters here to amuse your highness?” the words were laced with sarcasm, a subtle challenge hanging in the air as he regarded you with an air of exaggerated exasperation.

you can’t help but smile at their reactions, clearly enjoying the banter. “oh, don’t be so dramatic,” you say with a feigned innocence. “you’re not just jesters. you’re my favorite jesters.”

you take another pull on the joint, your gaze flickering between your two boyfriends as you blow out a stream of smoke. “and i appreciate the entertainment, don’t get me wrong, but really, you’re lucky i’ve decided to put up with your obnoxiousness.” you look down to gojo, poking his side with your toes before added, “especially you.”

gojo’s breath hitched in a dramatized gasp, his hand flying to clutch his chest with such intensity that it seemed as if he had just been struck by an invisible arrow— apparently, that’s his go-to expression, dramatic ass. “lucky? lucky that you’ve decided to put up with us? please, doll, we’re the ones who should be thanking our lucky stars that we found you,” he exclaimed, his voice dripping with exaggerated reverence, as though your very presence was some rare gift bestowed upon them.

sukuna, on the other hand, barely spared him a glance. his eyes flickered with a mixture of amusement and mild annoyance as he rolled them at gojo’s theatrics. “oh, calm down, dumbass,” he muttered, his voice low but sharp, laced with a touch of irritation. “you’re giving me a headache with all that whining.”

gojo, not one to back down easily, pouted dramatically, his lower lip jutted out in a perfect display of mock hurt. “i’m not whining. i’m just expressing how lucky we are to have the privilege of your presence.” his tone dripped with sarcasm, and his eyes flickered back to you, his smirk playing at the edges of his lips, daring you to challenge him.

sukuna scoffed once more, his expression now tinged with a faint but unmistakable irritation. “you’re lucky you’re cute, satoru, or else i’d be tempted to smack that look off your face. you’re insufferable.” the words were delivered with an edge of genuine annoyance, though his eyes softened slightly at the sight of gojo’s pout.

you snort, unable to hold back your amusement as you watch the back-and-forth between the two. you take another slow drag from the joint before casually passing it back to sukuna, your eyes never leaving gojo’s exaggerated pout.

“lucky you’re cute, huh?” you repeat with a smirk, raising an eyebrow at gojo’s dramatic expression. “that’s the only thing saving you right now, huh? pretty boy gets away with everything.” you roll your eyes but can’t help the playful grin spreading across your face as you lean back, resting your head against sukuna’s side.

the hours slip by as the three of you remain sprawled out on the floor, the conversation flowing between playful teasing and lazy banter. the sky outside slowly deepens into twilight, casting the room in soft shadows. the air grows thicker with the lingering scent of weed, the haze hanging in the air as sukuna’s joints grow fewer and fewer.

you lay between gojo and sukuna, your head still resting against sukuna’s chest while you lazily pass the joint between the three of you before sukuna take the last hit without either you nor gojo realized. the warmth of the room and the heavy, calming buzz settle over you, your body relaxed and content despite the chaos of the banter. every so often, gojo lets out a loud, exaggerated laugh, while sukuna just shakes his head, taking another drag as he passes the joint back to you.

the room is quiet for a moment, save for the sound of slow exhalations and the occasional chuckle. you lean your head back to look at the two of them, eyes half-lidded, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. “y’know,” you say lazily, “this isn’t so bad. could get used to it.”

gojo, sprawled out lazily on the other side of you, lets out a soft, knowing chuckle, his eyes locking with yours in a way that sends a little thrill through the air. “oh, getting used to it, are we? finally admitting that we’re not so bad?” he teased, his voice dripping with a sense of mock triumph, as if he’d just scored a small but satisfying victory over you.

sukuna, on the other hand, let out a slow, almost theatrical sigh, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. his fingers, restless, began to stroke your hair in a tender motion, the simple gesture feeling strangely intimate amidst the teasing. “careful now, doll,” he warned, his tone rich with a playful edge. “too much time with us and you might start liking us a little too much.” his words were a mixture of amusement and dark amusement, as though he were both cautioning and daring you to embrace whatever was growing between the three of you.

you let out a lazy, indifferent “meh” sound, rolling your eyes playfully as you surveyed the two of them, caught in their ridiculous back-and-forth. glancing between them, you couldn’t help but tease, your grin wide and full of mischief. “eh, not really my type,” you muttered, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm, clearly enjoying the banter as it unfolded before you.

gojo lets out an exaggerated gasp, his hand flying to his chest in mock disbelief. “not your type? how dare you?” he exclaims with a blend of feigned hurt and over-the-top offense, his voice rising dramatically, as though your words were an unforgivable insult.

sukuna rolls his eyes at gojo’s antics, a trace of amusement flickering in his gaze. “oh, please, satoru,” he drawls, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a sly grin. “don’t take it too personally. she clearly has no taste.” his voice is laced with mockery, every word dripping with playful derision. you smirk, the tip of your finger tracing slow, deliberate patterns across sukuna’s thigh, the action sending a subtle jolt of electricity through the air. “not my fault if your overinflated egos can’t handle the truth,” you reply, your tone dripping with sass and amusement.

gojo pouts dramatically at your response, his lower lip thrusting out in exaggerated mock hurt. “overinflated egos, she says. please, doll, we have every right to be confident. we’re the best damn thing that's happened to you.” his eyes narrow, daring you to challenge him, the playful arrogance hanging in the air between you like an unspoken dare.

sukuna snorts in response, his expression turning even more smug as a sly smile curls onto his lips. “yeah, doll. and you’re just proving our point. you’ve got a thing for cocky, arrogant jerks like us.” his voice carries an edge of amusement, as though he’s reveling in the truth of the statement, not the least bit bothered by the accusation.

you roll your eyes, the movement exaggerated as you continue to trace circles on sukuna’s thigh with a casual, almost bored air. “please,” you scoff, the sarcasm in your voice unmistakable. “i’ve got standards, you know.” you raise an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth, but unwilling to give either of them the satisfaction of admitting their point.

gojo scoffs, his eyes narrowing with playful challenge as he leans in slightly, his voice laced with teasing mockery. “oh yeah? standards, huh? and what are those, exactly?” the words are edged with curiosity, like he’s dying to know what could possibly be your “type.”

you grin, the smirk on your face widening as you continue your lazy assault on sukuna’s thigh, your toes nudging at gojo’s side with a teasing prod. “definitely not whitehead and bitch face,” you retort smoothly, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you jab your toes into gojo’s ribs for emphasis, then poke sukuna’s side with a playful flick of your finger. the taunting gesture is accompanied by a light laugh, daring them both to rise to the challenge.

gojo feigns a dramatic gasp, his hand clutching his side as if mortally wounded. “whitehead and bitch face?” he echoes, his voice dripping with exaggerated hurt. “please, doll, you wound me. and here i thought we were friends.” his expression shifts between mock betrayal and playful amusement, eyes wide as if you had committed the gravest of sins.

sukuna, on the other hand, lets out a low, throaty chuckle, the sound rich with amusement as he watches your mock irritation. your finger’s lazy tracing on his thigh seems to soothe him, even as his smug smile never falters. “yeah, doll,” he drawls, his voice laced with a playful challenge. “friends, huh? that’s one way to put it,” he muses, his eyes locked on your hand as it continues its delicate dance across his skin.

you gasp theatrically, your eyes widening in mock horror as if gojo’s words had struck at the very core of your being. “friends? friends?” you echo back, your tone dripping with exaggerated disbelief and mock outrage. “oh, fuck off, you prick,” you snap playfully, your feet pressing against his side with a soft shove, your lips curling into a sly grin.

gojo stumbles back in exaggerated fashion, clutching his side with a mock wince as though your light shove had caused him untold pain. “ouch, doll, that hurt,” he laments dramatically, his face contorted in mock agony, his tone dripping with faux sorrow.

sukuna, clearly entertained by the spectacle, lets out a quiet chuckle, his hand lazily stroking your hair as he watches you both. “oh, woe is you, satoru,” he drawls, his voice rich with sarcasm. “how will you ever recover from that devastating blow?” his lips quirk into a smirk, clearly amused by the banter.

you sit up, pushing gojo away with your feet, and your eyes narrow, suddenly fixating on sukuna’s hands. you tilt your head in mock accusation, raising an eyebrow as you study him intently. “did you finish it?” you ask, your voice dripping with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

sukuna grins unapologetically, a lazy, unbothered look in his eyes as he holds up the now-empty joint between his fingers. “caught red-handed,” he admits with a cocky tilt of his head, clearly unfazed by your gaze.

gojo’s pout deepens as he eyes the empty joint in sukuna’s hand with feigned disappointment. “ugh, really, man? you couldn’t save some for the rest of us?” he grumbles, his expression thoroughly put out as if this betrayal is a grave offense.

you hum indifferently, your gaze flicking between the two of them as if you couldn’t care less about sukuna’s confession. but your eyes tell a different story; they dart around the room, scanning every corner with sharp suspicion. first the table, then the couch cushions, and finally, a brief glance down to sukuna’s lap, where you eye him intently, your features betraying no sign of the suspicion swirling within.

sukuna, noticing your subtle movements, raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your obvious search. “looking for something, doll?” he asks, his smirk deepening, his voice laced with a teasing challenge.

gojo, blissfully unaware of your internal investigation, tilts his head in mock confusion. “yeah, doll,” he adds with a chuckle. “what’s with the scavenger hunt? lost something?”

you ignore their teasing entirely, focusing instead on sukuna, your eyes narrowing with increasing suspicion. without a word, you slide your hand under him, your fingers brushing against the back pocket of his pants. sukuna stiffens slightly, his smirk faltering just enough to reveal his surprise.

“what are you—” he starts, but you cut him off, your hand triumphantly retrieving his cigarette case. you pop it open with a snap, your eyes lighting up as you spot two perfectly rolled joints nestled inside.

“ahah!” you exclaim with a victorious snort, lifting the case high as if you’ve just uncovered a long-lost treasure. “thought you could hide these from me? think again, prick.”

sukuna groans, an exaggerated sigh escaping his lips as he leans back into the couch, the picture of reluctant surrender. “you’re like a damn bloodhound, doll,” he mutters, though the amusement in his eyes betrays any trace of annoyance. “can’t hide anything from you, can i?”

gojo, on the other hand, bursts into laughter, pointing at you with glee as if you’ve just pulled off some mischievous heist. “look at you,” he laughs, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “beaming like a kid who just found the candy stash!” he shakes his head with a grin that could rival the most devious of smirks. “you’re such an addict, doll. next thing we know, you’ll be rolling your own joints like some wannabe stoner.” his teasing tone fills the room, the light-hearted mockery echoing as the playful banter continues to dance between the three of you.

you shoot gojo a glare, flipping him off without missing a beat. “shut up, satoru. at least i’m not whining over someone else finishing the stash like a little bitch.”

without giving gojo a chance to respond, you shift your attention to sukuna, moving to straddle his waist. he groans in protest, clearly more annoyed by your audacity than your weight, but he doesn’t push you off. instead, he sighs dramatically, his expression a mix of exasperation and reluctant compliance.

“you’re such a pain in the ass, doll,” he mutters under his breath, though his actions betray his words as he lazily flicks the lighter to life for you. the warm glow of the flame reflects in his crimson eyes, and despite his grumbling, there’s a faint trace of amusement lingering in his smirk as he holds it steady for you before you lean forward and a little halo of smoke sneak past your lips.

gojo leans back, a mock expression of offense painted on his features. gojo’s jaw drops, his hand dramatically flying to his chest. “me? whining? i don’t whine, doll. i express valid concerns like the mature adult i am,” he retorts, though his pout says otherwise.

sukuna, meanwhile, lets out a sigh as you settle yourself in his lap, his hands instinctively moving to rest on your waist. he keeps up his feigned annoyance, his fingers idly tracing patterns on the sliver of exposed skin where your shirt has ridden up. as you lean forward and take the first pull, he watches you the smoke filling your lungs as you exhale slowly, the tension easing from your body, his gaze lingering on your lips, watching the tendrils of smoke curl away.

sukuna watches you from his position, his fingers still tracing light patterns on your waist, but his focus seems to shift to the way you handle the joint. his gaze lingers on your lips as you take the drag, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. as you inhale the smoke, he lets out a low hum.

rolling your eyes at gojo’s dramatics, you stretch your arm out, holding the joint toward him with a smirk. “here, take it and stop whining, satoru,” you say, your tone dripping with mock sweetness. “maybe a little smoke will help you with all that ‘mature adult’ energy you’re putting out.”

gojo, still pouting, takes the joint from your hand, his eyes flickering up to meet yours as he brings it to his lips. “oh, ha ha, very funny, doll. just you wait, i’ll show you who’s the mature adult around here,” he mutters, taking a deep drag. he holds the smoke in for a moment before exhaling it in a slow, steady stream.

you mutter under your breath, just loud enough for gojo to hear, “what an idiot,” your tone dripping with sarcasm. gojo lets out a scoff at your muttered comment, his eyes narrowing playfully. “oh, you’re one to talk, doll. calling me an idiot when you’re the one straddling sukuna’s lap like a desperate teenager,” he teases, a smirk playing on his features.

sukuna, meanwhile, remains silent for a moment, his gaze still fixated on you. the intensity of his stare makes you smirk, your fingers running lightly over his chest, teasing the fabric of his shirt. his expression remains neutral, but a flash of desire flickers in his eyes as he feels your fingers trailing across his chest.

rolling your eyes, you glance down, only to find sukuna’s gaze still fixed on you. you tilt your head slightly, raising an eyebrow as you ask with a smirk, “what?” he raises an eyebrow at your question, his voice low and mocking as he responds. with an indifferent shrug, his eyes not leaving yours as he replies, “just admiring the view, that’s all.”

you hum softly, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you glance at gojo for a moment, amusement dancing in your eyes. you then turn your attention back to sukuna, the teasing tone in your voice unmistakable. “i’m no teenager, but i’ll admit... i am desperate,” you say, your voice low and playful.

without giving sukuna a chance to respond, you lean down slightly, your already short skirt riding up further as you move closer to him. you let the space between you both shrink, your lips capturing his in a kiss, slow and deliberate, as if to emphasize your words.

when your lips meet his, sukuna lets out a low sound, his fingers gripping your hips a little tighter as he leans into the kiss. he responds with a quiet hunger, his tongue flickering over your bottom lip as he deepens the kiss. gojo, meanwhile, still leaning back on the floor beside, watches the scene unfolding before him. his eyes flicker between you and sukuna, his own smirk widening as he takes another drag from the joint.

you hum softly against sukuna's lips, the sound reverberates between you two, the tension building. you pull back just enough to bite his lower lip gently, tugging it between your teeth before leaning back in, kissing him again with more intensity. the kiss deepens, each movement a reflection of the growing desire between you both, while gojo watches, amused but clearly enjoying the scene unfolding before him.

sukuna reacts to the sharp bite with a low, rumbling growl, his fingers slipping beneath the loose fabric of your shirt as if claiming you. his touch is deliberate, tracing the soft, exposed skin beneath, sending an electrifying shiver down your spine. he presses you even closer, his body a solid heat against yours, as his tongue dances into your mouth, exploring with teasing precision, tasting every inch of you.

meanwhile, gojo remains sprawled on the floor, his eyes dark and hungry, flicking over every curve of your body. he watches sukuna’s hands move beneath your shirt with a slow, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. the joint in his fingers burns slowly, forgotten for the moment as he becomes absorbed in the raw intensity of the scene playing out before him.

sukuna’s hands continue their exploration with an almost possessive hunger, each stroke sending waves of pleasure and heat spiraling through you, leaving you breathless and acutely aware of his overwhelming desire for you. his lips abandon your mouth, trailing down the line of your jaw and moving lower, planting soft, heated kisses along your neck that send a thrill of anticipation rushing through you.

gojo watches this silent, unspoken dance unfold with a predatory gleam in his eyes. the joint, once a small comfort in his hand, is forgotten, dropped to the side as he becomes completely enraptured by the sight of you and sukuna. a low hum escapes him, his voice thick with both intrigue and unrestrained desire. “god, you two are something else,” he murmurs, his words laced with a dark satisfaction.

you pull away from sukuna, your breath shallow and quick, trying to regain some sense of control. your cheeks are flushed a deep red, whether from the kiss, the lack of oxygen, or the effects of the weed, it's hard to tell. you let out a heavy sigh, your eyes half-lidded as you glance between sukuna and gojo, your voice soft and slightly breathless.

“i think i’m high,” you murmur, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. the effects of the weed mix with the lingering tension in the air, and you feel a little light-headed, but there's no denying the buzz.

sukuna chuckles at your declaration, his thumb brushing against your flushed cheek as he grins, amused by your hazy expression. “you think?” he muses, his voice gruff. “more like you’re gone, doll. you’re practically floating right now. and here i thought you had a higher tolerance than that.”

gojo, meanwhile, lets out a loud bark of laughter, his own eyes fluttering slightly to keep you in focus. “she’s blitzed,” he teases, his lips curling into a smirk.

you roll your eyes at their teasing, your tone sharp yet playful. “shut up, both of you,” you mutter, reaching for the joint in gojo's hand with a quick, determined movement. you take another drag, inhaling deeply, your eyes briefly closing as the smoke fills your lungs. as you exhale slowly, you pass the joint to sukuna, your gaze lingering on him for a moment.

“your turn, asshole,” you say with a smirk, leaning back slightly as you let the haze settle around you.

sukuna takes the joint from your hand with a slow, deliberate motion, his thumb grazing against your fingers as his eyes lock onto yours. a smirk curls at the corner of his lips, his gaze never leaving you as he brings the joint to his mouth. he inhales deeply, savoring the smoke, holding it in for a moment as the weight of the moment stretches between you. then, with a controlled exhale, the smoke billows from his mouth in a steady, thick stream, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

gojo, still chuckling at your earlier comment, watches the exchange between you and sukuna with a sharp, calculating interest. his eyes flick between the two of you, a playful spark igniting behind them, his lips curling into a mischievous grin.

“damn, y/n,” he teases, his voice light but carrying an edge of amusement. “you really can’t hold your weed, can you?” he chuckles, leaning back as his gaze flickers with further delight at your reaction.

you shift on sukuna’s lap, leaning back just enough to let the weight of the moment settle in, your head tilting upwards to the ceiling as the haze of the weed wraps around you. a deep, contented sigh slips from your lips, the foggy warmth in your chest making everything feel just right. slowly, you let out a soft laugh, the words slipping from your lips before you can stop them. “this is better than going out for a date,” you murmur, a lazy grin spreading across your face.

your mind, cloudy and buzzing, wanders back to the date the three of you had planned earlier, the thought floating through your haze. gojo lets out a laugh, eyes flicking between you and sukuna, his amusement glinting brighter. “damn, doll, you’d rather get high than go on a date with us? who are we, chopped liver?” his voice is thick with mock offense, but the mischief dancing in his eyes is impossible to miss.

sukuna, never one to let a moment of teasing slip away, chuckles darkly, his hands drifting lazily over your thighs, tracing invisible patterns. “nah,” he drawls with a smirk, “she’s just too stoned to appreciate anything else right now.” his grin widens, clearly enjoying every bit of your sluggish reaction.

you let out a low, breathy chuckle, your head swaying slightly as the world around you blurs and ripples like a mirage. the ceiling above seems to stretch and shift, and you blink slowly, trying to focus on the warping edges of your vision. everything feels off-kilter, a delicious spin in your mind, before you lower your gaze and lock eyes with both sukuna and gojo.

“yeah,” you murmur, a lazy grin tugging at your lips, your voice heavy and slow, the words slurring just a little. “i’m definitely too stoned.” the realization hits you in a way that only adds to the dreamlike amusement of the moment, and you let out another soft, dreamy laugh, the sound floating lazily into the air.

gojo lets out a sharp snort, his amusement barely contained as he watches you in your clearly altered state. “doll, you’re not just stoned, you’re practically on the moon right now,” he quips, his voice dripping with playful mockery as he chuckles low in his chest.

sukuna’s gaze, however, sharpens as he watches you intently, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. he takes in the dazed, almost ethereal look in your eyes and the soft, blissful smile on your lips. a flash of something darker, something possessive, flickers across his face. “you look completely out of it, doll,” sukuna murmurs, his voice husky and filled with low amusement, as his eyes lock onto yours. “are you even aware of what you’re saying right now?”

gojo leans forward, eyes glinting with intrigue, clearly enjoying the way you’re unraveling before him. “yeah, you’re totally baked,” he teases, a knowing smirk playing at the edges of his lips. “didn’t know you were such a lightweight.”

you chuckle softly, rolling your eyes at their relentless teasing, your fingers absently toying with the hem of your shirt. “of course, i’m aware,” you mumble, your voice a tad slow, but steady enough to keep their attention. “don’t treat me like i’m completely gone.”

your gaze flicks between sukuna and gojo, lingering on sukuna just a beat longer before flicking to gojo. a sly, playful grin curls on your lips as you lean back just slightly. “but since we’re talking about awareness,” you begin, your voice taking on a teasing, almost mischievous tone. “do either of you know what i’m aware of more than anything right now?”

sukuna raises an eyebrow, his expression a curious mixture of intrigue and caution. he knows you too well to not sense the playful mischief behind your words, but the exact nature of it eludes him for now.

gojo, however, leans in even closer, his interest piqued by the hint of something more beneath your words. “what are you aware of, doll?” he asks, his tone laced with curiosity, eyes flickering between you and sukuna. he silently acknowledges the possibility that you might just drop a bombshell.

sukuna can’t help but let out a surprised laugh, caught off guard by your unexpected shift in tone. gojo, on the other hand, rolls his eyes exaggeratedly before breaking into a chuckle of his own. “oh yeah? we’re dicks, huh?” gojo retorts, his voice dripping with mock offense, but the gleam in his eyes betrays the amusement bubbling beneath his words. “please, elaborate. i’d love to hear why you think we’re such terrible boyfriends.”

sukuna joins in with a chuckle, his face a perfect mix of amusement and exaggerated outrage. “yeah, doll,” he adds, his tone filled with feigned indignation. “don’t be shy now. go ahead and tell us all about our apparent dickishness.”

you hum softly, your amusement lacing the sound as you take another languid drag from the joint. your eyes half-lidded, a dreamy smile spreading across your lips as the high wraps around you. you don’t bother responding to their mock outrage, your laughter bubbling up effortlessly as you lazily pass the joint to sukuna.

sukuna accepts it with a shake of his head, his lips curling into a knowing smirk as he watches you with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. “she’s in her own world,” he mutters, clearly entertained, before taking a slow drag from the joint himself.

gojo snorts as he observes you sprawled across sukuna’s lap, completely unbothered, as if the world around you had faded into a background blur. “look at you,” he teases, affection dripping from his words as he gazes at you with playful exasperation. “completely out of it. doll, you’re a walking PSA for why not to share weed with your boyfriends.”

he takes the joint back from sukuna, inhaling deeply, and blows a cloud of smoke into the air before his attention returns to you. “so,” he says, voice mockingly casual as he looks at you with raised eyebrows, “while you’re floating up there in space, any fun observations to share with us mere mortals stuck down here?”

you blink slowly, your gaze drifting lazily between sukuna and gojo before you lean back slightly and flash them a lazy grin. “fun observation?” you repeat, tilting your head in exaggerated thoughtfulness. “yeah, i’ve got one.”

sukuna and gojo exchange a quick glance, their curiosity piqued. sukuna’s smirk widens in anticipation, bracing himself for whatever absurdity you’re about to deliver. gojo leans forward, clearly eager for whatever nonsense you might have to offer. both of them regard you with arched eyebrows, their expressions a mixture of amusement and eager curiosity.

“alright, doll,” gojo encourages with a light, teasing tone. “let’s hear this fun observation of yours.” sukuna’s smirk deepens as he watches you, his arm instinctively curling around your waist to steady you, as if he knows you might topple over from the sheer weight of the haze surrounding you.

you shift slightly on sukuna’s lap, adjusting your position as his arm instinctively tightens around your waist to steady you. a lazy grin spreads across your lips as you gesture dramatically with your hands, drawing a large, exaggerated circle in the air.

“up here,” you say, your voice light and airy, “there’s this stupid orbit.” you pause, a mischievous glint in your eyes, and glance between sukuna and gojo. gojo leans forward, intrigued. “oh? and what’s in this ‘orbit,’ doll?” his tone is playful, though there's a spark of curiosity hidden beneath it.

you let out a soft chuckle, your fingers completing another exaggerated circle in the air before you deadpan, “it looks just like your whitehead—” you flick your gaze to gojo with a teasing smirk, “—and his bitch face.” your eyes dart to sukuna, your giggle bubbling up as you savor their reactions.

gojo’s smirk falters, his eyes narrowing at your unexpected retort. sukuna, however, erupts into a fit of roaring laughter, unable to stifle his amusement. he even gives you a playful pat on the ass as he laughs louder.

“oh, damn, doll,” sukuna chuckles, clearly entertained. “you're so out of it that you're talking out of your ass right now, huh? that's the funniest thing you've said all night,” sukuna laughs, his hand tightening its grip around your waist as if to keep you from slipping away.

gojo scoffs, feigning offense as he rolls his eyes. “oh, yeah? well, your orbit in this universe looks like a bunch of fuzzy, incoherent nonsense, doll.” you roll your eyes, a playful smirk tugging at your lips as you mutter under your breath, “talking about nonsense… rich coming from someone who’s always obnoxiously nonsense.”

you didn’t think they’d hear you, but both sukuna and gojo freeze for a moment, exchanging knowing looks before their eyes snap back to you. “oh, really?” gojo drawls, leaning in closer, his smirk sharpening into something far more challenging. “care to elaborate on what kind of ‘nonsense’ i’m spouting, doll?”

sukuna, still laughing, shakes his head, his grip on your waist tightening slightly, as if to keep you from slipping away. “nah, let her keep going,” he says, clearly relishing in the unfolding drama. “i wanna hear this too.”

you blink, realizing you’ve been caught. your cheeks flush—not from embarrassment, but from the combination of the weed haze and the realization you’ve just made a verbal slip-up. you let out a soft laugh, waving a hand dismissively. “nothing.”

gojo and sukuna exchange a knowing glance, their amusement growing as they watch you try to backtrack. sukuna lets out another chuckle, his hand still resting possessively on your waist as he grins. “oh, hell no, doll,” he says with a smirk. “you don’t get to back out now.”

gojo tilts his head, the devilish gleam in his eyes growing sharper as he leans closer to you. “yeah, doll, spill it. what did you mean when you called me obnoxious nonsense?”

you let out a soft laugh, the sound hazy and almost dreamlike as you shake your head. “nothing,” you murmur dismissively, waving a hand in the air before leaning forward and pressing your cheek against sukuna’s chest. his warmth is grounding, and you let yourself sink into the feeling as your body relaxes completely against him.

you hum softly, your eyes fluttering closed as you mutter, “damn, my head is spinning.” your words are barely audible, almost lost in the soft fabric of sukuna’s shirt. sukuna’s arms tighten around you, his chest rumbling with a low laugh as he notices how your body practically melts into his. he leans in, his voice soft but steady.

“you’re so out of it right now,” he murmurs, his hand gently running through your hair.

meanwhile, gojo chuckles, clearly entertained by the whole scene. “yeah, doll, you’re orbiting pretty hard up there in space right now,” he teases, reclining on his hands as he watches the situation unfold with glittering amusement.

you let out a heavy sigh, your entire body going limp as you allow yourself to sink further into sukuna’s chest. your weight presses against him completely, your arms falling limply to the floor on either side of his waist, your fingers brushing the carpet as though they’ve forgotten how to move.

your eyes remain closed, your face nuzzled into the fabric of sukuna’s shirt, his warmth wrapping around you like a heavy, comforting blanket. “mmm,” you mumble, your voice muffled, but content. sukuna’s soft chuckle vibrates through his chest, his gaze softening as he looks down at you. he continues gently running his fingers through your hair, grounding you with his steady touch.

gojo watches the scene with a smirk, his eyes flickering with a playful glint. “you’re practically a ragdoll right now, doll,” he teases, a hint of affection threading through his words. “looks like you’re gonna pass out any second.”

you mumble softly, your voice barely audible, “i might be...” your words trail off as your head sinks further into sukuna’s chest, your body lax in his embrace, just as gojo had jokingly predicted.

sukuna hums in acknowledgment, the vibrations from his chest soothing against your cheek. he leans down, pressing a firm kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment as if sealing an unspoken promise. “listen, doll,” he says, his voice low and serious, though the playful undertone still lingers. “you better never smoke without me or gojo around. i don’t want anyone trying to take advantage of you like this— useless and unaware.”

gojo nods in agreement with sukuna’s statement, his expression hardening for a moment as he contemplates the possibility. the idea of someone taking advantage of you, defenseless and lost in your high, clearly doesn't sit well with either of them.

“yeah, baby,” gojo adds, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “we don’t want anyone messing with you when you can’t even process what's going on. you're off limits when you’re like this, got it?”

gojo moves closer, shifting onto his side next to you. he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips brushing gently against your skin. his voice is barely above a whisper as he murmurs, “do you hear us, baby?”

you softly nod, your eyes still closed, the haze of the high clouding your senses. the steady warmth of sukuna’s body beneath you and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest provide a sense of security that lulls you into a deep sense of contentment. their words wrap around you like a protective cocoon, keeping you safe in their embrace.

sukuna lets out a low hum, feeling your nod, the knowledge that you understand their words settles over him like a heavy blanket. his fingers continue to stroke through your hair, the motion almost methodical, as he speaks again.

“good,” he says firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. “you’re always off limits to anyone except us, but even more so when you’re in this state.” sukuna and gojo exchange a glance, a silent connection passing between them as they both watch you, boneless and disoriented on top of sukuna. it’s a sight that is both intriguing and worrisome, to witness you so completely undone by a mere drug.

sukuna’s hand continues to gently tangle in your hair, his touch soft yet firm, as if seeking to keep you grounded amidst the haze. gojo, meanwhile, leans forward and brushes his fingertips against your cheek, the touch barely a whisper. “baby,” he murmurs, his voice tender and concerned, “do you even know where you are right now?”

you let out a long, heavy sigh, the weight of everything pressing down on you like an insurmountable burden. the dizziness is overwhelming, a fog settling in your mind, clouding your thoughts and stealing your clarity. your eyelids flutter, but you fight the urge to succumb to the haze. instead of responding, you tighten your eyes shut, desperately trying to block out the spiraling confusion swirling inside your head. you try to cling to something solid, to anchor yourself amidst the storm of disorienting sensations.

yet, even through the thick fog, you can feel sukuna’s fingers gently carding through your hair, his touch steady and grounding. and gojo’s hand, warm and reassuring, rests lightly on your cheek, a subtle presence that brings you some semblance of comfort. still, the haze is suffocating, and focusing feels like an impossible task.

your body, like lead, refuses to obey your commands, sinking deeper into the disorienting daze. but in the midst of the confusion, the warmth of sukuna and gojo’s presence feels like a lighthouse in a storm, their proximity offering you a safe harbor, even if the world around you feels too far away. with your eyes closed, drifting between the fog of your mind and the warmth of their touch, you sense the soft exchange of glances between them. their faces, usually brimming with confidence and amusement, now carry a trace of concern, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

sukuna’s hand, still in your hair, moves with the same rhythmic precision, massaging your scalp with a soothing pressure that, against the weight of your dizzying thoughts, brings a small measure of clarity. the steady movement lulls you, pulling you from the disorienting fog, but it’s still hard to grasp onto anything concrete.

“doll,” sukuna’s voice cuts through the haze, deep and low, a soothing lullaby in the chaos of your mind. “open your eyes for us, will you? we need to see those beautiful eyes of yours.”

you try to comply, but it takes longer than expected. your response is sluggish, a slow nod that feels like an eternity to produce. finally, after what seems like a small eternity, your eyes crack open, just slightly, the world around you blurry, unfocused. you blink up at them, barely registering their expressions, the room around you spinning in a slow circle.

sukuna’s gaze softens when he sees you struggling to stay grounded, though his grip on you remains firm, a protective presence keeping you from slipping away. gojo lets out a breath, a soft sigh of relief escaping his lips as he watches your eyes flutter open, still glazed with the remnants of the fog in your mind.

“there you are,” gojo murmurs, his voice a gentle caress as his fingers trace the contours of your face, his touch light but deliberate, as if committing every feature to memory. his expression softens with a rare tenderness, but there’s still that playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, as if trying to lighten the atmosphere despite the obvious concern in his eyes.

sukuna continues his slow, steady motion through your hair, his touch almost tender now, his large hand providing a comforting pressure against your scalp. it’s as though he’s trying to pull you back to the surface, to anchor you to the present, but even his steady presence can’t erase the fog lingering in your mind.

“doll,” sukuna’s voice takes on a more serious tone now, yet still carries a certain warmth, “we need you to answer a question for us. just a simple question. think you can do that for us?” his words are firm, but there’s an undercurrent of reassurance in his voice, as though he's giving you the space to collect yourself.

you hum softly, the sound barely audible, but enough for them to hear. your response is slow, your thoughts clouded, but you’re still trying. you’re still there.

gojo and sukuna exchange another look, this one laced with an unspoken agreement. sukuna’s hand continues to glide through your hair, but now it’s even more deliberate, grounding you further, a steadying force in the midst of your dazed state.

“good,” gojo says, his tone carrying a touch of approval. “now, doll, listen closely. we’re going to ask you something, alright? it’s really simple, just one word, nothing complicated.” his voice is calm, though a faint hint of something more serious lingers beneath the playfulness. sukuna’s hand doesn’t falter, its rhythm steady as ever, anchoring you as gojo prepares to ask the question.

gojo takes a moment, a slight smirk playing at his lips, but his eyes reveal something deeper—a rare sincerity that surfaces when it’s just the three of you, alone in this moment.

“do you know where you are right now?” he asks, his voice still teasing, yet there’s a thread of concern woven in. his gaze never leaves you, as if watching for the smallest sign that you’re beginning to find your bearings again.

their eyes meet once more, their gazes a mixture of protectiveness and tenderness, but there's no mistaking the underlying urgency—wanting to be sure that you’re truly okay, that you’re not lost in the fog.

you scoff, the sound barely audible as you shift slightly, a lazy smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. if you were fully sober, you’d probably curse them out and smack them for treating you like you couldn't function on your own.

instead, you mutter, “fuck off,” your voice weak and hoarse, as you weakly push gojo’s shoulder with little force, too tired to even put any real effort into it. your body still feels like it’s floating, but the familiarity of their touch and their concern lingers, and for now, it’s enough to make you feel safe.

sukuna and gojo burst into laughter at your attempt to sass them, amused by your weak, half-hearted response. despite being under the influence, your sharp tongue and fiery attitude refuse to fade, a testament to your usual feistiness.

“oh, there’s our spitfire doll,” gojo chuckles, his voice full of affection and amusement, the sparkle in his eyes betraying his enjoyment. “even in the middle of a high, you can't seem to help yourself, can you?” leaning down with that characteristic grin, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, the warmth of his touch a gentle contrast to the tension in the room.

sukuna, still tenderly running his fingers through your hair, lets out a low chuckle. his touch, though playful, holds a subtle trace of affection as he murmurs, “i suppose that answers the question, though.” you let out a soft sigh, the exhaustion from the drug coursing through your body, making everything feel heavier. still cradled against sukuna, you fold your arms tighter around yourself, your body seeking the warmth and comfort that he offers. your eyes, still heavy with the haze of the high, close again as you murmur, “can we move to the bed now?” the soft pleading in your voice is clear, even though the comfort of sukuna’s arms makes it hard to summon the energy to move.

sukuna and gojo share a knowing look—unspoken communication passes between them, the depth of their concern evident in their eyes. the fog of your drugged state is apparent, and they both recognize that it’s time to move you to the bed.

“yeah, baby,” sukuna responds, his voice a soft mix of authority and care, “we’ll move you. just hold on for a second, alright?” with deliberate care, he shifts, lifting you gently as he rises from the floor. gojo trails behind, his gaze never leaving you, his fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that speaks volumes. he watches your every move, filled with a mix of concern and deep affection as he follows sukuna’s lead.

once at the bed, sukuna lays you down on the soft sheets, adjusting the pillows beneath your head to ensure you’re comfortable. gojo settles at the edge of the bed, his eyes scanning your face, lingering on the softness of your features, still filled with a quiet intensity.

sukuna chuckles again, this time low and with a hint of amusement, as he undresses, slipping off his clothes until only his boxers remain. his gaze lingers on you, watching the way your face has softened, relaxed in the aftermath of the high. a wry smirk plays at his lips as he mutters under his breath, “dumbass,” with affectionate exasperation. “look at her, completely out of it… such a brat.” his words carry both humor and a layer of fondness, his teasing only highlighting his affection.

gojo, on the other hand, takes a moment to watch sukuna, a low whistle escaping his lips as his eyes roam over sukuna’s form before his attention snaps back to you. he leans in, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch light and delicate as though you might shatter if he wasn’t careful.

“she’s quite the dumbass right now, isn’t she?” gojo muses, his voice filled with playful amusement as a smirk tugs at his lips. he proceeds to gently remove the jewelry from your wrists and neck, placing each piece carefully on the nightstand before tenderly taking off your clothes, ensuring he’s gentle with every motion. his hands move with deliberate care, and once you’re only in your underwear, he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulls the blanket up around you. his movements are tender and deliberate, as though trying to cocoon you in warmth and safety.

glancing toward the window, gojo observes the relentless rain, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. a quiet sigh escapes him as he watches the storm rage outside, his voice barely a whisper, “hell of a storm.” the low hum of rain becomes a background to the otherwise still room as he slowly undresses, ready to settle beside you.

meanwhile, sukuna reaches over to switch off the lights, plunging the room into darkness, save for the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the window. the room feels peaceful in contrast to the chaos outside, the distant thunder muffled by the closed windows and thick curtains. the silver moonlight casts a calming glow, the only source of light as they prepare to settle in.

with the room now dark, sukuna climbs into bed beside you, his warm body pressing gently against your side, his hand finding yours under the blanket. his fingers brush over your palm, tracing the lines of your hand as though trying to steady you, grounding you in the present.

gojo, having finished undressing, slides into the bed on your other side. the two of them sandwich you between them, their bodies close, limbs intertwined in an intimate, protective embrace. it’s a cocoon of warmth, of security, a stark contrast to the vulnerability you’re feeling from the high. despite your state, they’re hyper-aware of your every breath, your every movement.

sukuna, still holding your hand, presses his head gently against your shoulder, his voice low and soothing as he mutters, “there we go, all nice and comfortable, doll.” his words are a lullaby, grounding you further in the moment.

gojo, propped up on his elbow, studies your face intently, the faintest trace of concern mingling with the amusement still in his eyes. his touch is careful as he brushes another strand of hair from your face, a tenderness that speaks volumes in its simplicity.

“you’re gonna be one hell of a headache tomorrow,” he muses with a soft chuckle, a playful hint to his voice. “such a little idiot, letting yourself get so out of it.” sukuna’s chuckle rumbles against your back, the vibrations reverberating through your skin. “yeah, doll,” he agrees, his voice a deep rumble. “you’ll be feeling it tomorrow. but for now... we’ll just keep you right here, safe and sound.”

both sukuna and gojo tighten their hold on you, their arms encircling you like a protective barrier, refusing to let you slip out of reach even an inch. they’re both hyper-aware that you have no control over your body right now, and they’re fiercely protective over your vulnerability.

[wanderingxiao]

Merry Christmas

Scaramouche x Reader *FLUFF*

Warnings: Smoking, and that’s probably it! No smut this time, wasn’t feeling in the mood for it and wanted something soft :3 ❤️

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone 💚 I hope you all have a wonderful day ❤️ Not proofread

Scaramouche was no fan of holidays, especially Christmas. The obnoxious sound of Christmas music howling in the wind on every street corner, every radio station blasting all the classics people seemed to love. His drives to work had become utterly silent at this point, leaving him to sit with his thoughts. The streets were bustling with reds and greens. Big signs advertising sales or delivery or whatever else companies did to swindle the people into buying more and more and more. It was disgusting really.

The only thing he found enjoyable was his time with you.

Sure, you put a tree, decorated it with Christmas ornaments, hung wreaths, put up small elf and reindeer trinkets, and baked a lot of sweets. But he enjoyed the looked on your face spending time with your family and him. A beautiful smile that could rival the sun would be graced upon your lips. Your laughter ringing through your shared home with him. It never failed to make his heart skip a beat and make him fall deeper and deeper in love with you. Even though the windows frosted over with ice, the snow packed against the asphalt, and the skies gloomy with winter weather, you always made him feel warm.

You melted the walls around his heart years ago.

“I’m going out for a smoke.” Scaramouche interjected, standing from the couch where you and your family sat before making his way to the sliding glass door to the balcony of your apartment. He didn’t care the disapproving glares from your parents, he really just needed a smoke and to get away from the music, bright lights, and Christmas movies playing on repeat. His face was met with the chill of the winter air, soon enough turning his pale nose pink in its icy touch. His slender fingers fished through his jean pockets, pulling out a half empty pack of cigarettes before slotting one between his cracked lips. Just as he was putting his pack back and going for his lighter did the glass door sound in his ears.

“Hey.” It was your voice, soft and gentle as you approached your boyfriend. Scaramouche only hummed in acknowledgment of your presence for a brief second, before finally fishing out his lighter. He held his hand around the lighter, flicking his thumb over the ignition to make a spark. After a few attempts, the spark found the gas and lit a small and weak flame. A warm red burned from the tip of the cigarette as your boyfriend took an inhale of nicotine. “You’re getting better you know.” You said smiling, coming beside him on the opposite side the wind was blowing. He exhaled a breath of smoke, his shoulders slowly slumping as he let out a small scoff.

“It’s only half a pack. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” He couldn’t help but glance over at you. That damned ugly Christmas sweater you were wearing, the fuzzy white and red hat atop your head, and the remains of cookie crumbs peppered on the edge of lips. You still made his heart do backflips. “I know. But you’re trying, for me. I want to recognize and praise you. Thank you.” You looked over at him and smiled warmly, the blank expression on his face remaining, yet you could always tell when his eyes would soften. Your hands circled around one of his arms, your breasts coming to push comfortably against him as you both looked out over the bustling festive city. “I can’t wait till this damn year is over.”

“Well, new years is a week from today. It’s almost over, and your birthday is near.” Ugh, don’t remind him. Just another festivity you insist on celebrating for him. It was unnecessary, especially considering how his background with his family. Yet you always insisted that you were thankful for his birth. In some way it was heartwarming really, but it still never failed to bring bad memories. He inhaled another drag from the cigarette, blowing out the smoke through his nose before looking away from you. He hadn’t even finished half of his cigarette before he was burning it out against the metal railing of your balcony. “B-Be careful when you do that. I don’t want the landlord finding out.”

“I got you a present.” Scaramouche mumbled, glancing back to see your expression. He had never gotten you a gift on Christmas before. Sure he bought you flowers occasionally after rare arguments or brought home chocolate on your period, but he had never actually given you a gift. “H-Huh? You did?” You asked in bewilderment. Your boyfriend was never one to show his affections through gifts or words, rather through actions. He thought the idea of giving gifts just to make someone happy was ridiculous. Everyone always preaches it’s the thought that counts, but in the end people buy each other gifts because of tradition now. “Yeah. I did.”

He turned away from you, fumbling with his pockets for a moment before handing you a small box with a ribbon on top. You took the gift cautiously, staring at it with slight anxiety. Your thoughts were racing of what it could possibly be. Through your 4 year relationship he had never gotten a gift for anyone on Christmas, it must be super special or important for him to have gotten a gift now. The tips of your fingers tingled as the cold air pricked your skin, your fingertips slowly tugging at the ribbon to reveal a small black velvet box. Was it jewelry? Your cheeks reddened at the thought of something so romantic. Replacing your fingers on top, you slowly edged the box open.

There was a ring. A diamond ring at that. Oh and of course he left the price tag on it.

Your eyes almost bulged out at the price, utterly flabbergasted at how much he’d spent on a ring. “S-Scaramouche this is-! It’s beautiful! But-!” He closed the box back before you could finish. “Let me put it on then.” He opened the box back and pulled out the ring, ripping the price tag off and tossing it off the balcony to be taken by the wind. You through your hands up in protest. “No way! T-That’s way too expensive! That’s more money than I’ve e-ever seen in my-“ Your voice died out quickly as he grabbed your left hand, carefully sliding the expensive diamond ring onto your ring finger. “Money doesn’t matter to me. It was on my mom’s credit card anyways”.

“S-Scaramouche-“

“I didn’t hear or see any objections.” He muttered, his eyes softening as he started to see tears welling in the corner of your eyes. He reached a hand to your face, being delicate to wipe your tears away with his cold fingers. “Not like I’d let you anyways.” His arm came to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You could still faintly smell the smoke on his breath, mixed with the scent of his cologne that always made you weak. Your smile hurt, your cheeks aching at how wide your grin was. Without a seconds hesitation, he pulled you the rest of the way in, his lips finding yours in a soft and innocent kiss, unlike his fiery passionate ones he typically gives you.

“I-It’s not fair! You- You’re supposed to ask!” You pull away with a laugh. Your new fiancé gives you a light scoff before pinching your reddened nose. “That’s pointless. Your answer would’ve been yes either way. Don’t act like you would’ve said no. I wouldn’t have let you.” You hugged him once more, nuzzling your face against his chest while a few happy tears escaped down your cold cheeks. “Never… I want to be with you forever.” Scaramouche looked out over the city once more, his eyes trained on the full moon that lit up the night, the stars flickering in the distance. His eyes widened as a shooting start blitzed across the sky. “Merry Christmas, Scaramouche.”

His lips twitched, slowly arching upwards as he looked back down to you against his chest.

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

[lumiolivier]

Another Round

Series: One Piece

Chapter: One Shot

Word Count: 2400

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Cross Guild x Reader (YN)

The treasure needs to be shared, doesn't it? And Perona is an agent of chaos.

a/n: Hey! Since the first one was so well received and because someone's going to have to follow the rules, have a part two. And if you're not careful, I just MIGHT put out a part three! Take THAT, Mom! Also, just a side note, words cannot describe how badly I want this to be turned into a cosplay crack. I would be so happy if this because a cosplay crack. I wish I had cosplay friends in near proximity.

@laws-wife-things Because you asked so nice for a tag. <3

It was another quiet evening in Mihawk’s castle.  Things had just finished winding down after dinner.  Mihawk and Crocodile were sitting comfortably in the study.  Mihawk with his knitting needles.  Crocodile with his crocheting.  While you were in the kitchen, finishing up the dishes.  It was something you insisted on.  Everyone had their therapeutic activity.  And things were well.  This time, Mihawk and Crocodile were certain where Buggy was.  He sat at the island, watching you with the dishes.  The poor thing was recovering from a nasty headache he had no recollection of getting.  Perhaps he was getting sick.  Perhaps it was stress.  Or perhaps it was having a nine iron repeatedly smacked into the side of his head.  He may never know.  But in the study, both Mihawk and Crocodile worked on their respective projects, living in the cloud of smoke Crocodile made for both of them.  Not that Mihawk truly minded.  It mingled in with his wine and gave it an interesting flavor profile.  The evening would prove to be a quiet one.  And no one was complaining.

Except Perona.  Perona, who loved to cause a little chaos in the house.  And she knew right where her favorite button was.

“Hey, YN?” Perona sat next to Buggy with an ice pack on his head and his face buried in the countertop, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, Perona,” you put up the last plate in the cabinet and let the water drain out of the sink, “What is it?”

“Well…” Perona thought, “Remember when we were playing fuck, marry, kill in the attic?”

“Not really,” Buggy grumbled into the granite, “Were we playing fuck, marry, kill today?”

“Yes, Buggy.” You put a gentle, loving hand to his shoulder.  You knew how Crocodile could get when it came to you.  And you knew how Mihawk could be.  Mostly because you were still just a little sore from what happened after that game was over.  But every little ache still felt so good.  Still, you felt bad that Buggy had to take the brunt of it, “What about it, Perona?”

“I had an idea for another one,” Perona grinned, “If you don’t mind playing again.”

“You know what?” You hopped up on the counter.  It was your favorite place in all the castle.  Something about sitting on the counter felt so grounding to you.  Or maybe it was because it was one of Crocodile’s favorite places to catch you off guard.  If he only knew what you and Buggy had done on that island…and on the kitchen table.  But you kept that to yourself, “Alright, Perona.  Hit me.  What do you got?”

“Fuck, marry, kill,” Perona smirked, “The big boys of the Straw Hat Pirates…”

“Really?” You winced, “Isn’t one of them practically your brother?”

“It’s purely hypothetical, YN…” She reminded you, “Come on.  Zoro, Luffy, Sanji.  I know you know what they’re all like.  Go.”

“Fine…” You took a moment to think about it.  It was just to humor Perona.  It’s not like any of this was going to ever happen, “I’d have to fuck Zoro, marry Sanji, and kill Luffy.”

“Well,” Buggy approved, “At least I’m not the one on the chopping block.”

“Pun intended, Buggy?”

“Maaaaaybe.” You hated that you loved the clown.  But he made you giggle.  Even though it was one of those things that was so stupid, it cycled back around to being funny.

“I need an explanation, YN,” Perona begged, “What do we got going on in that little head of yours?”

“Yeah,” Buggy listened intently, “I’m a little curious, too.  You’re killing the little rubber pain in the ass.  That one, I get.  But what’s going on with the other two?”

“Alright, alright,” you settled them, “Let’s start right off the bat why I’m killing Luffy.  Think about it.  If I kill Luffy, think of how much easier it would make life on Mihawk and Crocodile.  Although, I feel like it’s the same situation as when we played this with you being the one I kill, Buggy.”

“Because killing Buggy would also make it so much easier on Mihawk and Crocodile?” Perona teased.

“Again,” Buggy glared, “I have feelings, Perona.  Hurtful.  Incredibly hurtful.”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Perona gave him a little shove, “It’s fine.  Again, we’re playing a game of hypotheticals.”

“Not necessarily that,” you went on, “Mostly because he just got caught up in the crossfire.”

“Oh…” Buggy let it go, “But what about the other two?”

“We’ll start with Zoro,” you decided, “Look at him.  He’s got that pretty face, that killer body…It’s like if I were to put Mihawk and Crocodile in one body.  And I’d be totally here for it.  But then again, I know his reputation.  I’d be begging him to find the clit and he’d get turned around at my shoulder somehow.”

“Bless his heart,” Perona clutched her chest.

“But I have a feeling that once he does find it,” a little smile crept across your face, “First of all, it’ll be entirely by accident.  But once he does find it, he’ll find it over and over and over and over and Perona, you can ask anyone here.  They’ll all tell you the same thing.  Overstimulation to the point where I’m drooling on myself?  That’s the shit right there.”

“Absolutely,” Buggy picked his head back up and pulled you into his lap, “We know what you like, doll.  It’s too bad we can’t all be in the same room.”

“It is kind of a downer,” you agreed.  You had been begging for all three of you taking you at once for almost as long as you’ve been with them, but you understood.  Crocodile was too huge.  Mihawk was too greedy.  Buggy was too…Buggy.  If Buggy got involved while either one of them were with you, it was either an immediate turn off or it would turn into someone leaving with a black eye.  And it wasn’t going to be Mihawk or Crocodile.

“But,” Perona brought them back, “You said you were fucking Zoro, killing Luffy…Why are you marrying the chronic pervert?”

“I don’t see him like that.” You sighed out, “I’m marrying Sanji for all the right reasons.  Put a woman in front of that man and he is on his knees.  He is doing everything he can to make sure she is taken care of.  He is doing everything to make sure she is happy.  And if he can’t do that, he’s going to go self-flagellate in her name.  Not to mention, I’ve seen that man fight.  Not that I’m doubting Zoro’s ability to protect me, but Sanji can do just as well.  And I still get all the worship I want.  I wouldn’t have a husband.  I would have a male wife and I love that for me.  I’d be totally cool with that.”

“You know,” Perona thought, “That doesn’t sound like a half bad idea.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Buggy chimed in, “What do you mean, that doesn’t sound like a half bad idea?  You’re saying you’d take a weenie like the pretty boy cook over someone like, say, Crocodile or Mihawk?”

“In a heartbeat,” Perona nodded, “First of all, Mihawk’s like my dad, so…Uh…Ew.  And Crocodile’s not my type.  Don’t get me wrong.  I love a good size difference, but I’m not looking to get split in half.  No offense, YN.”

“None taken.” You understood.  Someone like Crocodile wasn’t for everyone.  You, on the other hand, weren’t opposed to being split in half.

“Especially since I know he’s packing a family sized soup can down there now.”

“Thank you, Perona,” Buggy squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to suffocate the mental image of Crocodile naked out of his head.  There was no way he wouldn’t have been terrifying to see, “The last thing I want to think about is Crocodile’s trouser snake.”

“It definitely does the job,” you confirmed.

“YN!”

Perona laughed hysterically, rocking herself back and forth above the island, “Oh, YN.  I love you so much.  You’re the best and the worst and that might be the best part about you.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” you giggled with her, “But yeah.  That’s how that would work for me.  What about you, Perona?”

“What about me, Perona?” Perona asked, coming down from her high.

“Same question,” you retaliated, “Fuck, marry, kill.  Zoro, Sanji, Luffy.”

“Let’s see…” Perona thought it over, ‘Probably…Fuck male wife, marry stretchy, kill Zoro.”

“Give me your reasoning,” you insisted, “Show your work.”

“Alright,” Perona obliged, “Fuck Sanji because…What the hell?  Why not?”

“He is not hard to look at,” you agreed, “Go on.”

“Marry Luffy because he’s kind of a cutie,” Perona pointed out, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong,” Buggy grumbled.

“You’re just jealous that I won’t touch you,” Perona argued, “And kill Zoro, so I can bring his earrings back as a trophy for Mihawk and claim my rightful place as his favorite.  Not that I’m not there already.  And let’s be honest.  If I brought Zoro’s earrings back, I’d be stealing them before the day was over.  At least one of them.”

“Love you, too, Perona,” Zoro wandered in and cracked the fridge open.

“Wait,” Perona blinked a couple times in total disbelief, “Zoro, when the hell did you get here?  What?  Did you try to find the bathroom on the Sunny and take a wrong left turn?”

“Very funny,” Zoro rolled his eyes, “No.  Mihawk let me in.  He said I could have a snack before bed.”

“Does that mean the rest of the crew is here, too?” Perona wondered.

“And I know you want to sleep with my crewmates?” Zoro grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, “Yeah.  They’re all on the dock.  But I’m just here to check in with Mihawk.  You know how he worries.”

“I don’t want to sleep with your crewmates,” Perona clarified, “We were playing a simple game of fuck, marry, kill.  And we happened to get some of your crewmates.”

“Who brought it up?”

Perona hated that she was backed into a corner, but she conceded anyway, “I might have.”

“And?” Zoro looked over to you.  It wasn’t often he came around and even more scarce when he pays you much attention, “How’d you answer?”

“I didn’t kill you,” you promised.

“I didn’t ask if you killed me,” Zoro sipped his water, “How’d you answer?”

If there was one thing you knew about Roronoa Zoro, it was that he was incredibly protective of his captain.  And if you knew you spared Sanji over Luffy, you wouldn’t be living much longer.  But he could always tell when you were lying, “Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, too,” Zoro scoffed.

“No,” you rolled your eyes while Buggy laughed behind you, immediately catching your attention, “Something to say, Buggy?”

“Sorry, doll,” Buggy brought himself back down, “That wasn’t at you.  You just caught the stray.  It’s just hard to believe that the second greatest swordsman in the world, demon of the East Blue, barely microcelebrity Roronoa Zoro is not the brightest bulb in the spotlight.”

“Fuck you, too, clown,” Zoro snapped at him.

“Zoro,” Perona hushed him, “Go on, YN.  Answer his question.”

“Fuck Zoro, marry Sanji, and…” you braced yourself for whatever came next, “Kill Luffy.”

Zoro unsheathed his sword.  Just a little, “You want to kill Luffy?”

“Settle down, Zoro,” Mihawk came into the kitchen, “Put your toys away.  She doesn’t get to play with you.”

Zoro slipped his sword back in its sheathe.  Although, in a perfect world, he would’ve more than defended his captain.  Until his dying breath if he had to, no matter who decided to get in his way.  And that included you.  So, you were right to be a little leery around Luffy’s guard dog.  But you got up from Buggy’s lap and moved toward Mihawk, getting a little kiss to your forehead, “Hi there, hawk eyes…”

“Hello, darling,” Mihawk pulled you into his side, “Did he frighten you?”

“Of course not.” You were lying.  Zoro scared the hell out of you.  Especially when he got that look in his eye like he was ready to run into a fire and not give the third degree burns a thought. 

“You know,” Mihawk nudged you toward the door, “Crocodile’s looking for you.”

It must be his turn, you thought.  Granted, you had Mihawk the night before, but you were more than ok with having Crocodile tonight, “Ok.  Is he in his room or is he in the study?”

“Study,” Mihawk gave you one last kiss, “Go on.  Don’t keep him waiting.”

“Yes, sir.” You left Mihawk to handle his kids and his Buggy while you went up to handle Crocodile.  On your way up the stairs, you were already stretching your jaw.  Because your jaw was about to come unhinged like a snake. 

However, when you poked your head into the study, there was no sign of Crocodile aside from the fresh burn mark in the arm of his chair and a pile of scrap yarn on the floor.  Maybe he left, you thought?  So, there could only be one other place he could be.  So, you went down the hall instead.  Sure enough, you could smell a freshly lit cigar coming from Crocodile’s room.  When you first came to Mihawk’s castle, you were told how your sleeping arrangements would go.  You would have your own room, but you would rarely sleep in it.  You would only sleep in it for a week every month.  Mostly because they wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as you could when you were suffering with your regularly scheduled stab wound in your uterus.  But for the rest of the time, you would spend a week in Crocodile’s room, a week in Mihawk’s room, and a week in Buggy’s room.  Tonight was a Crocodile night. 

And there he was, laying on his bed, waiting for you, “There you are, Princess…I was wondering when you were going to get here.

‘Looking for me?” you crawled in next to him, letting him wrap his massive arms around you.

“You know it’s my favorite week,” Crocodile left little kisses all over your neck, his teeth gently grazing you, sending chills down your spine.

“It is,” you squirmed underneath him, “Are you going to be gentle with me, Sir Crocodile?”

And Crocodile laughed, “Of course not.”

[star-wrote]

I'm in love with your moodboards for Daryl! they're so beautiful to look at 💗 can I request angst for Daryl? maybe something like Daryl had a nightmare about his mother or a nightmare about his father and his childhood and the reader tries to comfort Daryl who's crying in the reader's arms <3

Dream of Me

ao3 link

Characters: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader | Pre-Saviors Alexandria Era

A/N: @liliesdiary omg thank you so much! i’m fan-girling so hard bc i love your account and moodboards too!! sorry this request took so long, lovely. i hope you enjoy!<3

Warnings: descriptions of child abuse, fire, hitting, belts, nightmares, smoking and then putting cigarette out on skin, comfort, angst, fluff

Word Count: 1415

Daryl’s face stung.

He was sure if he were to look in a mirror, his cheek would be an angry red color. He brought his hand up to feel the cut created from the belt buckle, wincing and jerking his hand away fast from the pain that blossomed from his touch. Blood covered his fingertips.

Daryl hates when his dad marks his face. He’d much rather it be his back, like usual; somewhere he could hide the damage. When his face gets messed up, his mom makes him stay home from school. Daryl loves being at school; away from his father and the pain that he causes.

Typically, Daryl would stay down and wait for his father to be done beating on him. But not today. Maybe it was the overstimulating pain, or the alcohol on his father’s breath, or the way his dad was standing over him, laughing. Whatever the cause was, didn’t matter. Daryl stood up and wormed his way out of his father’s grasp, running to the room that his mother stayed in during the time that his dad got like this.

He banged on the locked door. “Mama! Let me in, please!”

Daryl looked behind him to see his father round the corner of the hallway. He seemed to have grown ten feet tall and his stomps shook the walls of the house. Daryl was about to sit in front of the door and take what he was about to get, when the door opened and his mother pulled him inside. She shut and locked the door quickly.

Daryl wrapped his arms around his mother as she took his face in her soft hands.

“Aw, what happened to your face, sugar?” She asked him as if she didn’t hear the crack of the belt against his face.

Daryl watched as she pulled out a cigarette and lit it. His eyes widened as she brought it to her mouth.

“No, wait!” Daryl yelled out.

It was too late. His mom somehow caught on fire from the cigarette she was holding.

Little Daryl ran into the corner of the room and put his hands over his ears to drown out the sounds of her screams. Sinking to the floor, he let out a scream himself.

Daryl opened his eyes to a dark room, quickly wiping away the tears he felt on his cheeks.

He looked over at you lying in bed next to him, your features soft like an angel that fell asleep on a cloud. Gentle breaths fell from your slightly parted lips, sending a wave of relief over Daryl due to the fact that he didn’t wake you. He would feel guilty if he had.

Daryl snuck out of bed, grabbing his box of cigarettes and the lighter that were on the table next to the bed. He walked through the house like he would if he were hunting an animal; soft steps and quiet breathing. He opened the front door and let out a sigh when he exited the house and closed the door without a sound.

He walked over to the porch swing, lighting his cigarette as he sat down with a grunt.

Daryl thought of you. The first time he had a nightmare while sleeping next to you was at the prison, just a couple of nights after you two moved into your own cell. It had been about something similar, Daryl’s crappy childhood, but you only knew bits and pieces about it back then. Now, you know about most of it. About the torture he suffered at the hands of his father. About his mother dying. About Merle being either gone, on drugs, present and kind, or present and mean.

You knew that Daryl had nightmares, but he didn’t talk about them with you. Sometimes you wouldn’t wake up when he had them. Other times you did wake up. Daryl always felt bad on those nights. You would ask if he wanted to talk about them, but he would just dismiss you and sneak away somewhere to process on his own.

Which is what he was doing now. Processing. He smoked his cigarette until it was almost nothing. Then, he put it out on his hand, hearing the sizzle of his own burning flesh.

That was what you saw when you quietly opened the front door of the house, a deep sadness filling your veins as you thought about what your boyfriend had to go through on his own. You opened the door all the way, trying to make enough noise so that he would hear you and not be startled by your presence. You watched as he tossed what was left of the cigarette into the bushes and wiped off the top of his hand that was covered in ashes.

You close the front door, walk up to the swing, and motion to the bench. “Can I sit?”

He looks at you with a hint of guilt, but nods anyway.

You both sit in silence for a moment before he speaks.

“Had a nightmare.”

You nod your head. “I thought so.”

You knew he would probably say no, as he always does when you ask him if he wants to talk about it, but it was a habit to let him know that you’ll always be there to hear him talk.

Before you open your mouth to ask him the usual question, preparing for him to shrug you off and go off to his bike, he nods his head at you.

“Yeah, I wanna talk ‘bout it.”

You tried to hide your surprise, but your eyebrows raised before you could stop them. Luckily he wasn’t looking. Instead he was looking at the heart you carved into the arm of his side of the porch swing, no doubt preparing himself to talk about his nightmare.

He takes a breath and releases it before speaking.

“Was about my old man. And my mama.” He grabbed another cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag before speaking again. “My dad was hittin’ me and stuff. Got up and ran to my mom and hugged her. Then she caught on fire in front of me.”

You listened to him talk, soaking up every detail.

Daryl took another drag before talking again. “Wasn’t even how it happened. Didn’t even see ‘er die or anything. Just got home and the house was on fire and she was dead.”

You nodded as you watched him breathe in the cigarette. His breath out was shaky, his hands even shakier.

“But jus’ now, in the nightmare, I could hear her screams.” A tear fell from his eye. “Don’t know how my brain can come up with somethin’ that realistic if I ain’t never experienced it before.”

You grabbed his cigarette and put it out on the seat of the swing. His eyes finally met yours and he started sobbing. His breaths were sharp inhales and sniffs, and tears fell freely down his face.

“Oh, baby.” You said as you tugged his face into your neck, as if keeping him there would shield him from any pain that the world had to offer.

His tears soaked your shirt, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was comforting the man who wept in your arms.

“M’ sorry.” Daryl hiccuped out.

“Shh, there’s no reason to be sorry.” You ran your fingers through his hair.

You two sat like that for a little while until his tears stopped and his breathing calmed. Your hands never stopped running through his hair.

He pulled away from you and wiped his face, looking at the rising sun that started coming over the walls of Alexandria.

“Hey,” you said as you got his attention, “don’t disappear. You aren’t a burden, and I’m thankful that you trusted me enough to share.”

He nodded and grabbed your hand, pulling it to his lips to kiss your palm. “Thank ya, angel.”

You smiled at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes. He was glad to see it, worried that you would look at him differently after his breakdown.

“Let’s go back to bed. Rick can go on without us for one day.” You said as you got up, leading him back into the house.

It took some convincing, but Daryl let you spoon him. You kissed his back as he relaxed into the bed.

“Dream of me.” You whispered into his shoulder.

He fell asleep smiling with images of you in his head.

[whumpsday]

I Deserved It

Whump Oneshot - Writing masterlist here

content: time loop, pet whump, failed escape attempt, guns, major character death, whumper turned caretaker, suicide

Whumpmas in July Day 3: "___ deserved it."

i wrote this all in one sitting and when i looked up it was 4am. starting WIJ off with a bang!!

-

Day 1

Devran didn’t know it was day one of anything at the time, though he certainly learned fast.

The little shit had tried to escape. It had never done that before, and he certainly wasn’t a fan of it. He’d thought his training was getting him somewhere, Emereo seemed almost completely obedient. But somehow, it had all gotten away from him.

Not enough for the pet to actually succeed, of course.

His captive was weeping in a crumpled heap on the floor by the time Devran was done with it. Devran was careful to never go further than what he could fix on his own–it wasn’t like he could take the damn thing to a hospital without getting arrested. Still, the bruised, broken figure kneeling at his feet seemed thoroughly cowed, and the fresh, smoking brand on its shoulder blade ensured that it would never forget its place again.

He grabbed it by the collar, the pet’s eyes flashing with terror as it was brought up again.

“Master–” Emereo gasped, “Master, please, I’m sorry! No more, I won’t run again! I’ve learned my lesson!” It winced away from him as much as it could without pulling back.

Devran scoffed. “Clearly, you’ve learned nothing. Begging for the punishment you’ve duly earned to stop?”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” it cried. It opened its mouth, then closed it again, no doubt biting back more pleas for it to end.

“You deserved it.” He shook the helpless thing a bit, watching it choke on the collar for a moment before moving with it. “Say it!”

“I–I deserved it, sir,” Emereo sobbed.

Devran dropped it, then kicked it one last time for good measure. Emereo whimpered and curled in on itself, every muscle in its body tensed and waiting.

Exactly how he wanted it.

He dragged it back over to the wall, clipping its collar to the chain there. “No food today or tomorrow. You’re dismissed.”

Emereo slumped over. “Th-thank you, Master.”

Devran left it there, locking the basement up as he went upstairs. Two days nursing its injuries in the dark with no food should give it the time it needed to reflect on its actions.

He went on with his day, not paying any more mind to the crying mess in his basement aside from when he cleaned the branding iron.

Later, he would swear that somehow, when he went to bed that night, he could feel that something wasn’t right.

-

Day 2

“I–I deserved it, sir,” Emereo sobbed.

Devran blinked.

He was back in the basement, his fist coiled around his pet’s collar, just like yesterday. Emereo’s brand was even still smoldering, he noted.

He dropped the wretched thing, taking a moment to collect himself while Emereo shook on the ground. He must have been dreaming, right? The last thing he remembered was falling asleep.

“Sir?” Emereo squeaked.

“Stupid,” he muttered, turning away and back up the stairs. Though he didn’t bother closing the door, the Emereo of his dreams had learned its lesson just as well as the real one and stayed put.

Devran straight up to bed, and though it was still light out, managed to get himself to drift off into a nap.

-

Day 3

“I–I deserved it, sir,” Emereo sobbed.

Devran was not the slow sort.

He only gripped the pet’s collar tighter, drawing it up with a yank. “What’s going on?” he barked.

“I deserved it!” Emereo repeated, pupils dilated. Its hands raised slightly, then lowered as it snuffed out the instinct to loosen the pressure around its neck. “I’m so sorry, Master! Please!”

“Forget about the stupid escape!” Devran threw the pet to the floor, hard. Its skull cracked audibly against the concrete, though it did not lose consciousness. “You don’t remember, do you?”

Emereo’s breaths came quick as it wracked its mind, desperate to placate its master. “R-remember what, sir? I remember my lessons! I won’t forget again!”

“Great. Just great.” Devran stormed upstairs and locked the door behind him. If he was going to figure this out, it certainly wouldn’t be aided by a stupid pet who had no idea what was even happening.

Internet searches returned only science fiction. Obviously, this was out of the realm of the ordinary. He was on his own, but Devran was nothing if not adaptable.

And clearly, he had all the time in the world to figure it out.

After a day of fruitless research, he checked himself into a hotel for the night. Perhaps it was the bed.

-

Day 4

“I–I deserved it, sir,” Emereo sobbed.

It was not the bed.

Devran sighed, dropped the pet, and headed back upstairs without another word. He started writing ideas in his journal, but scrapped that–it would all be erased anyway. He would simply have to remember everything.

He brewed a pot of coffee in pursuit of his next endeavor. Every time he slept, he reset. So he simply would not sleep. Obviously unsustainable, but maybe if he crossed some sort of threshold, time would go forward as it was meant to again. It wasn’t like he’d never pulled an all-nighter before. He would aim to pull two, at least.

On the bleary 40th hour of his endeavor, Devran was pulled from his countless shaky-handed cup of coffee by a soft knocking.

“Master?” came a small voice.

At least it was something to distract from the sleeplessness. Devran opened the door. “What?”

Emereo backed up, almost tripping over itself as it fled to the bottom of the stairs. “C-could I have some water, please? My bowl’s been empty… I’m sorry to bother you. It’s just…”

It was very, very clearly sorry. It was apparent that it would rather be doing anything else at the moment.

Devran rolled his eyes. “Stay.”

The pet obeyed as Devran filled a cup with water, brought it back, and tossed it down the stairs, spilling it all over the floor. It could lick it off the ground if it wanted it so badly. He was too tired to give a shit. “There’s your water.”

“Thank you, sir!” Emereo called as he slammed the door back.

Devran returned to his pacing until he was simply too exhausted, only daring to sit down for just a moment.

-

Day 5

“I–I deserved it, sir,” Emereo sobbed.

“Damn it!” Devran shouted, throwing his pet to the floor. It shrieked, covering its face as it cowered away.

Back to the drawing board.

He stared curiously at the pet curled on the ground. He’d been focusing on himself and his behaviors to stop the loop, but why did he always wake up here? Was it simply random chance, or could Emereo be connected to this, somehow? Even if it couldn’t remember?

Devran lowered Emereo, then released its collar. “Have you ever seen Groundhog Day?”

“W-what?” it asked, completely tense as it looked up at him.

“The movie, the one about the man trapped in a time loop. Keep up.” Devran snapped his fingers.

Emereo immediately positioned itself into a kneeling position. “Yes, sir! I’ve seen Groundhog day. M-my siblings and I used to watch it on the actual holiday.” It covered its mouth suddenly, like it had said something it shouldn’t have.

“I’m stuck in a time loop. Like in Groundhog Day. Do you understand?” Devran asked.

It was immediately clear that the pet thought he was losing his mind. It looked up at him questioningly, trying and failing to hide its obvious disbelief. “...Yes, sir. And… should I be, um, doing something?”

“You should be glad your punishment’s interrupted. I keep resetting right then, why is that?” he muttered.

“I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry.” Emereo’s voice was quiet, trying hard not to trip on unsteady ground.

“Useless.” Devran left it down there and headed upstairs, then out the door.

His friends were even more useless than the internet had been.

-

Day 6

“I–I deserved it, sir,” Emereo sobbed.

Devran dropped it, heading upstairs without another word. It had been a while since he’d opened this drawer for anything other than cleaning, and, well, he’d always wanted to try this. Either it would break the loop and he’d be free, or it wouldn’t and there would be no consequences.

The pet’s eyes grew wide as it looked up the stairs when he returned, straight up the barrel.

“Sir?” it breathed, not daring to move a muscle.

“Good night, pet.”

With that, his basement was painted red. Devran didn’t bother cleaning it up.

-

Day 7

“I–I deserved it, sir,” Emereo sobbed.

It was strange, seeing his pet so full of life after blasting its brains all over the walls. Devran released it to the floor, taking a step back.

“You used to watch Groundhog Day every Groundhog Day with your siblings,” he said simply.

Despite its aching body and cracked ribs, Emereo moved swiftly to prostrate itself, bending until it was the utter picture of submission.

“Please don’t hurt them,” it choked out, “I’ll do anything, Master, anything, I promise I’ll never try to run again, just please. I’ll be such a good pet for you, I swear! You’ll never need to discipline me again! Please don’t, oh God, please–”

“I’m not going to kidnap your fucking family. Get a grip.” Devran snapped, and Emereo in turn snapped up to an upright kneeling position. It cried out as the sudden movement jostled its injuries, but did not complain.

In all their time together, he had never seen it quite this distressed. Devran pocketed the idea to ensure future obedience, once he’d dealt with this damn loop.

“You told me this. I’m trapped in a time loop,” he explained. “Do you believe me now?”

“Yes, sir!” The pet was unreadable this time, its mind clearly elsewhere.

“Listen.” Devran snapped again, and Emereo flinched. “Every day for the past week, I’ve woken up to you crying here, and nothing I’ve tried has worked. I’m half-convinced you’re somehow involved with this.”

“I didn’t!” Emereo insisted, fresh tears brimming. “I s-swear, sir, I didn’t, I’m sorry I tried to escape, but I didn’t–”

“Not like that. In the more… catalytic sense,” he corrected.

Emereo pursed its lips.

“What?” Devran demanded. “Spit it out. I only have all day.”

“H-have…” It cut itself off. “I’m afraid I’ll be… punished again, sir. I don’t want to disrespect you.”

“You’re disrespecting me more by disobeying my direct order to spit it out.”

“Have you ever seen Groundhog Day, sir?” Emereo asked. It put its arm up to guard its face, as if that would do anything.

Ah. Of course that would be the first thing the stupid pet thought of. He hadn’t seen the movie itself, but it had wormed its way into popular culture enough for him to get the gist: a man is trapped in a time loop until he betters himself as a person.

“Very fucking funny. That’s a movie, this is real life.” Devran turned to leave it once more, then stopped.

Why not? He might as well try everything.

“You know what?” He turned back toward the pet.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Emereo wailed. “Please, I didn’t want to say it, you ordered me to!”

“Go.” Devran stepped aside, gesturing up the stairs.

Emereo shook its head, frantic. “I’ve learned, sir. I promise. I’ll never run again, never, never.”

“I said to fucking go.” Devran grabbed it by the collar and dragged it upstairs, throwing it out the door. “Don’t come back.”

He shut the door in its bewildered face.

It wasn’t even an hour later that police showed up to arrest him.

Devran didn’t particularly mind. If it stuck, he would still be imprisoned for less time here than he would be if it didn’t.

-

Day 8

“I–I deserved it, sir,” Emereo sobbed.

Devran abandoned the pet once more to work on his own. While Emereo’s idea was juvenile at best, there was a kernel of worth in it: perhaps there was some use in looking to time loop narratives. If someone else had ever escaped his predicament, perhaps they’d write a book or script about it. It wasn’t like he was lacking time.

He threw some food and water down for the pet so he wouldn’t be disturbed, then set to work.

After Groundhog Day, The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, and Happy Death Day, he fell asleep halfway through 1408.

-

Day 9

“I–I deserved it, sir,” Emereo sobbed.

It had only been just over a week, but the spot Devran had left off in his old life was slowly starting to lose its meaning. He couldn’t find any energy to be angry about the escape attempt anymore.

“Up,” Devran ordered, releasing its collar.

Emereo struggled to its feet. “Yes, sir.”

Devran led it upstairs. “Go sit on the couch.”

“Yes, sir.” Emereo collapsed there, whimpering as it tried to find some semblance of comfort with its injuries.

“Your punishment is over. I’m going to be watching some movies and TV shows. If you’re good, you can stay and join me for lunch and dinner,” Devran offered. Perhaps the recent watch of Groundhog Day had made him soft after all.

The pet wiped its eyes. “Thank you, Master. I’ll be good.”

He put on 1408 again, fast-forwarding until he got to the point he’d fallen asleep at. The pet watched with rapt attention, not seeming to mind having missed the beginning of the movie. It did not speak at all during its run, only looking away to try and fail to spot the brand now taking residence behind its shoulder.

After a horrific torment at the hands of a cursed hotel room, the protagonist ended up setting it ablaze and escaping. Devran had already successfully fallen asleep outside his house, so that didn’t help at all.

“This wasn’t the original ending,” Emereo piped up suddenly. “They changed it because test screeners thought the director’s vision was too much of a downer. There’s actually four endings, ‘cause they made a bunch trying to find a good one for theaters, they included them all in the DVD release. He dies in the fire in the original one.”

Devran turned to look at it.

Emereo shied away. “I-I used to watch a lot of horror movies. Master.”

“Hm.” Well, that was equally as useless. If dying was the only way to escape the loop, he’d be dead after he escaped, and it would be pointless. “Lunch time, I think.”

It turned out that getting through all the movies and staying awake was easier with Emereo’s commentary. It slowly opened up as Devran encouraged it. It even gave recommendations.

-

Day 10

“I–I deserved it, sir,” Emereo sobbed.

Devran lowered his hold slowly, then released it. That brand really did look nasty. All that bright-eyed babbling from yesterday was gone, now.

“Punishment’s over. Come on.” Devran helped it up, his hold firm even as Emereo flinched from his touch. “No more hurting for now.”

Emereo was able to get up the stairs much faster with help. Devran even applied some burn cream to its brand and gave it some ibuprofen for the pain.

“Thank you, Master,” it said after it downed the pills. “You’re… more merciful than I’d expected. Thank you. I really won’t try to run again. I’ve learned.”

It was a pathetically low bar, but it was also the most kindness Devran had ever allowed it at once. This was how he’d imagined it in the beginning, when he’d pictured training a human pet: a loyal, devoted companion, after the pesky conditioning was out of the way. He’d seen others in his circles accomplish the same. He’d thought for a while that they’d simply chosen better victims, and he was stuck with this one now that he couldn’t let it go without the police on his tail. Maybe it just required a gentler hand.

“Good. Maybe I’ve been too harsh with you, and that’s why you felt the need to run,” Devran conceded. “We can both learn from this. A better pet and a better owner.”

He chanced a soft pat on the head. Emereo only flinched a little.

“I’d like that, sir,” Emereo agreed. There was no doubt in Devran’s mind that it wanted to be free more, but its words were sincere nonetheless.

-

Devran fell into a routine.

At the start of each day, he took care of Emereo, learning more and more what words were most effective in calming him down–a he now, eventually–as he treated the injuries he’d inflicted. He made lunch for the two of them, then did something related to the loop. Research or an attempt to break it. As the days went by, he grew lazier and lazier with that, sometimes skipping it altogether as he grew more sure there was no way out after all.

He spent the rest of the day relaxing with his beloved pet, falling into a kind of peace. Emereo never reacted well when he tried to free him or take him outside, only causing more distress after the punishment he’d just taken. So he stayed.

-

Day 259

“I–I deserved it, sir,” Emereo sobbed.

“Good, there you go. It’s over now, I promise. You’re going to be alright.” Devran unclipped the collar from Emereo’s neck and tossed it aside. “You did such a good job. I’m not going to hurt you again. Let’s treat those injuries, okay? Let me help you up the stairs.”

Emereo’s face was the picture of relief. Devran had seen it hundreds of times. “Thank you, Master.”

It bothered Devran that this was the reset point. If only it could have been an hour earlier, before he’d caused so much pain. He’d even prayed for it, during his brief stint turning toward the church for an answer to his loop. But he always woke in the same spot.

After Emereo was all treated, Devran wrapped him in a blanket, brought him to the couch, and served him his favorite food: grilled cheese. It was about the most content someone recently-tortured could look, but through it all, there was always that undercurrent of pain and fear.

It was cruel, really. Devran had made his peace with the loop, but Emereo was the one that truly suffered for it, even if he couldn’t remember.

By this point, there was only one thing he hadn’t tried. He had mulled it over for quite a while, and he’d finally made up his mind. It was a bit drastic, but if it was the only way to free Emereo from his daily torment, he had to at least try, didn’t he?

He took his journal and wrote the names of everyone else he could think of, then tore out the page, folding it in half.

“Emereo? There’s something I need you to do,” he said as he joined him back downstairs.

“Yes, Master?” he asked, suddenly just a little more tense. Devran hated that. He wondered if Emereo would ever lose that fear, if he spent some years away from here. Away from him.

He handed Emereo the paper. “You don’t need to read this, it won’t make sense to you anyway. These are my… friends. If you ever get out of here, give this to the police, okay?”

Emereo looked lost, but that was alright. He didn’t need to understand just yet. “Um, yes, sir.”

“Good. You’re free to do as you please. Use the phone, take a walk outside, whatever you like. You won’t be punished.” Devran left him there and locked himself in his bedroom. He didn’t want Emereo to be the one to find him, even if it reset and he wouldn’t remember.

“Well, here goes nothing.” Devran clicked the safety off and shot himself in the head.

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Playing With Fire: Chapter 3

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: strong language, angst (slight) violence, mention of weapons, use of bombs (slight), use of weapons, bodily violence, attempted murder, drinking, some sexual themes (slight), breaking into homes, stalking (if you squint) (lmk if I missed any!)

WC: 10.7K

Summary: Killing men is almost as easy as seducing them…. almost. Your job to get in contact with Penguin’s potential new partner comes easy, convincing him to work with your side of the crime ring should be simple. Not when a specific someone doesn’t know his boundaries, especially when it comes to your personal affairs.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2 || Chapter 4

Another day, another mission, another raid by the son of a bitch. You had just about enough of his stupid games. You were currently hiding and spying in on one of his hidden locations, trying to dismantle his operations one by one.

You had placed a series of explosives around the shipment he had, planning to destroy it all, and so you waited patiently on the roof of the building just a block away, saying through your goggles and watching as he held his AK-47 in hand and looked over the men packing up the crates for delivery.

You waited a few minutes before you felt the vibration in your wrist go off. Perfect timing. You thought as you watched the crates implode and cause a massive cloud of smoke around all of the men, the explosions getting louder and bigger with each one that detonated. You smirked at yourself.

$100K gone.

You watched as Red’s men scrambled to find the source, his eyes narrowed as he looked up, his eyes meeting yours knowing he had zoomed in his helmet’s software. You smirked at him, waving as he grabbed the sniper off the ground next to him and aiming at you.

Not today motherfucker.

Another explosion went off, causing Red to lose balance, seeing the anger in his body language as you stood and ran off to the other buildings, disappearing as you hid in the night.

You: 1

Red: 0

But your lead was short lived, a few days later you had another run in, this time he found a job you were on. You were trying to get information from another server database, only to find him already there. You saw the hard drive in his hand, chasing after him as he escaped into the underground train system.

You threw a star at him, causing a rip in his thigh but he recovered quickly by shooting at you, slowing you down but missing as you tried catching up to him. You pulled out your own gun, shooting at his feet causing him to trip and you jumped, kicking him in the head and seeing the crack of his helmet. How thick was that thing that could survive so many of your kicks?!

He grabbed your arm, flinging you over his shoulder as your back slammed to the ground with force. You grunted as you tried to stand, his boot connecting with your side as he kicked you towards the ledge of the ramp. Your body struggled to get ahead, but you felt his boot dig into your shoulder, your head leaning over the edge as you struggled.

He was trying to fucking kill you and you were not about ti give him the satisfaction. He leaned down, his knee now digging into your shoulder to hold you in place as his gloved hand grabbed your face, forcing you to look at his ominous stare. His helmet was bright red like blood, and you knew his hands were covered in it. Gotham ran red because of him and he loved it.

“Scared of a little train?”

“More like I’m scared of that ugly face of yours”, you spit out as he wrapped his hand around your throat, cutting off your oxygen supply to make you pass out while forcing your head down over the ledge. Your body was in fight or flight as he slowly started to hold his weight, torturing you with the psychological factor of if he holds you here, you get hit by the train, you die. He was elongating the torture to get at you.

You heard the rumble of the train from the floor, your body going into overdrive. His grip stayed on your throat, slowing crushing your windpipe and causing you to see black points in your vision, the lack of oxygen causing you to almost lose consciousness.

“Come on sweetheart, I know you’ve got more fight in you than this' ', he mocked, your hands trying to loosen his grip, pulling at his hands but his grip only tightened into an iron grip. “I’m sure you’re just as pretty with your head off your shoulders''

The sound of the whistle from the train slowly got louder and louder, your panic setting in but you covered it up well. You reached for your knife, slicing at his arm and maiming his skin. He only sucked in a painful breath, before lifting your body and slamming it against the concrete. You could feel the train getting closer and his intent getting stronger.

You slid your leg in between the two of you, using it to push him off of you and your force pushing you onto the train tracks, your body hitting the heavy metal with force. You couldn’t breathe. You were disoriented. You tried pushing yourself up, your vision hazy.

You tried standing, your body still crouched as the rumble of the train came by. It was about to be here. You needed to get out. Now.

You tried to focus, once you stood you were met with Red pointing his Jericho 941 at you.

“Move and I’ll shoot”, he threatened.

He was forcing you into a corner….

This was his payback for the bomb and the roof.

Fuck!

The train’s headlights shined at you, the blaring honk sounding out and rattling you to your core. Red’s lock on you didn’t falter. You had about five seconds to get out and live or stay and get smashed into nothing.

The train was going at least 200 miles an hour, you waited until it was only a few mere meters before you ducked at the sound of Red’s gun shooting off, the bullet digging into your shoulder as the train sped by, your body launching itself onto the opposing platform. Your arm is burning in pain.

The son of a bitch shot you.

You quickly ran with the train, looking over and seeing Red running alongside you on the opposite side through the gaps in between the cars. You needed to get the hell out of here.

You kept running down the platform, once the train passed completely watching as Red jumped from his side over to yours, the stomp of his boots loud as he bolted towards you.

You had a good gain on him but he was fast. If you could reach the stairs you’d be able to get away from him. But just as you reached the first flight you felt him grab you, pulling you back down and slamming you against the wall.

His helmet got close to your face, his eyes narrowed and you had daggers of your own. You struggled against him, but stopped when he dug his hand into the gunshot wound you had. You let out a scream, the pain burning through your body as the adrenaline pumped through your veins.

“I love making little errand rats scream.” he whispered. “Teaches them to stay in their fucking place”, you lifted your legs, kicking at him as he pulled you down with him, your bodies falling to the ground as he landed on top of you.

“You’re a fighter. I’ll give you that.” you continued trying to get at him, pushing your body out from under him, reaching for your gun only to feel him weigh you down with his body. Forcing your arm behind your back as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pressing down on your throat. “Who said you could leave?”

The position was painful, your injured arm would probably get infected if he didn’t stop fucking with it. You kept trying to move away, your energy running out from the adrenaline wearing off and the pain settling in.

“You need to learn better, Sweetheart. You’re nothing without Penguin behind you”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking child!”, you forced out, your anger still deep in your soul. Your hair stuck to your face because of the sweat, your body shutting down at the wound taking over your senses. Red looked at you before he laughed deeply.

“Black Mask knows what he’s getting into, I wouldn't expect Penguin’s little pet to understand that.”

“L-Let… me- go..”, you choked out, your vocal chords being crushed under the weight of his arm. His crimson covered head moved closer, almost like his mouth was next to your ear.

“Deliver a message to the fat ass you call a boss and that piece of shit Sionis.”, his distorted voice commanded. You felt the air leaving your lungs as you reached a hand up to try and loosen his grip, only to cause him to narrow his eyes and tighten his hold.

“Tell them Gotham will run red soon. And it won’t be my blood painting the city if they decide to refuse my demands.”.

Your eyes nearly closed due to the lack of oxygen, but after a few seconds you felt your body get tossed to the ground like a rag doll. You tried to catch your breath but you felt weak, you had been deprived of air for too long. All you saw was that red helmet looking down at you before he disappeared, the pain flowing through your body as you gave into the tiredness and the extent of your wounds.

•

•

•

Soreness overtook your body, the timing in your ears causing your head to hurt. You forced your eyes open only to see the empty underground train station. Nothing but dried blood on the ground from your shoulder wound. You pushed yourself up, your shoulder burning as the pain shot through your body. Your arm was sore and burned, it left you frustrated. You wanted to find the son of a bitch and rip his eyes out.

Red would meet his match, you just needed to hit him when he was at his weakest, catch him off guard. You knew you’d have the upper hand and it would be the only way to get him to buckle.

Your goal was to take him down and it would give you everything. The bounty. The protection. The reputation. You would be the one who took down the Red Hood. You would have it all and you wouldn’t need Penguin’s name for anything anymore.

You pushed yourself off the ground, your arm limp as a wave of pain flooded you again. You needed to clean the wound and wrap it, the fucker probably risked getting it infected.

You pulled yourself through the streets, your legs shaky but you found your way back to your apartment, stripping your body of your bloody clothes and hopping into the shower. You let the warm water rinse off all the sweat, blood, and dirt from your body, the steam covering you in a comforting blanket. Your head hung under the water, your arm feeling better under the warmth. You had a few other cuts and sore spots that you knew would leave bruises but nothing else worried you. You needed to disinfect and wrap your arm, rest was also on the agenda since you’d been up for almost 26 hours before you ran into Red and had him knock you out.

You wrapped yourself in a towel and stepped out of the shower an hour later, your body relaxed after having so much built up tension. You cleaned all your wounds and wrapped your arm after pouring alcohol and ointment on it.

Once you were done, you let yourself fall on the bed, wearing only your underwear and an oversized t-shirt. Your head lolled to the side, noting the time.

It was barely 6am.

You could probably get a few hours of sleep before heading to the Lounge. You set the alarm, letting your eyes close and fall into a slumber from exhaustion and not being suffocated. You needed rest. Your eyes closed as the sun had barely started rising.

“It looks a lot better than it did a few days ago. Just keep putting the medicine on it and keep it wrapped”, the doctor said as he finished wrapping your arm. The soreness is still present after three days.

Penguin had taken you off patrol to recover from your fight with Red. It gave you the perfect time to go in and work on the Calvi case. It required no real physical activity and your arm was still healing so it was the better option.

You slid your top back over your head, slowly guiding your arm through the sleeve and rolling it to loosen the stress.

The day continued as normal, Penguin giving you intel, you finding more information on Calvi, and eventually making it through to find out where his routine spots were.

You managed to get dressed for the night, letting Penguin know your communications wouldn’t be as frequent in order to successfully pull this through.

The mid thigh dress loosely hung on your body, tight enough to show your figure but loose enough to make your curves smooth delicately. Your hair framing your face in a loosely done blowout. Your make up was simple, but you applied a dark red lipstick making your lips appear more seductive. It was always the best way to get men to give you everything you wanted.

You had made your way to Upper Gotham, calling a private car to take you to the Sapphire. An upscale, luxury club that only elite members could enter into. Luckily for you, you managed to bypass the system and register yourself as a top paying member, as well as getting you the exclusive induction card that only elite members had. No one knew what it looked like except those members. Luckily for you getting yours wasn’t too hard. Just a couple strings pulled and boom, you had it.

You walk up to the concierge, sliding your card as the screen flashes green and she lets you walk by. You followed into the main hall, the room full of all kinds of people from every rich family in the city. You recognized businessmen, stock brokers, luxury goods traders, liquor tyrants, everyone who was anyone would come to the club. Especially during the weekend once the offices closed.

You skimmed the room quickly, your outfit helping you blend into the crowd and gave off a silent luxury appeal, not too loud, but not too obviously fake. The dress was simple, classy, and anyone with a good eye could recognize the vintage piece from a mile away. You needed to blend in after all.

You moved through the room, your eyes keeping focused on the bar as you sat on one of the stools, leaning forward as the bartender placed a napkin down, asking for your drink order. You quickly told him a glass of the house red, you didn’t need to be inebriated tonight. You needed to focus.

Once the bartender returned, you picked up the glass and sipped the bold drink as you let the taste seep into your tastebuds. It was rich even for a house wine.

There were a few men playing chess at the table across the room, each one focused on calculative thoughts before moving a piece across the board. You always knew that life was like a game of chess. The better at the game, the better you were at playing your cards in real life. It wasn’t hard to navigate anything, though it required training and skill. Something you had spent the last six years trying to perfect. It was airtight. At least, as close to it as you could possibly get.

A form moving from the entrance caught your eye. He had dark hair that was slicked back, a dark suit fitted to his body that almost melded perfectly. He was tall, built, and had an aura of sophistication floating around him.

Calvi.

He walked over to the men playing chess, shaking their hands as you focused in on what they could possibly be talking about. They all laughed and you tried to make yourself not stand out for staring so long. The glass of wine touched your lips again before setting it down, pushing a strand of hair out of your face as you made eye contact with him. His eyes focused on you as you moved your hair back, reeling him in just like you wanted.

He excused himself, motioning to the bar and the men nodded, continuing their game as you swiveled back towards the counter and feeling his gaze on your back like a burning fire.

Too easy.

“Is this seat taken?’, his deep voice rang out, looking up you noticed his dark eyes held intent in them, strong and committed.

“No. Go ahead.”, you motioned softly as you let your hair fall over your shoulder as you watched him with hooded eyes.

“Whisky. Neat, please.”, he motioned to the bartender as he quickly nodded, starting to prepare his drink. Once the drink was set in front of him, he took a sip then turned towards you. “I’ve never seen you here before. Are you new?”

“I am. My name is Vivian”, you responded before taking another sip of your wine. “Got an invite from a colleague of mine, said this is one of the most exclusive clubs in Gotham and figured I had to check it out after getting such a kind invite.”

“It’s the most exclusive and holds all the most influential people in Gotham.”, he mentioned before leaning back smoothly, his confidence radiating off his body. It was a good thing he was attractive because this would be so much harder if he wasn’t. “My name is Calvi Calbera”.

“So, I take it that you’re a part of Gotham’s influential elite?”, your eyes couldn’t have held more seductiveness to them even if you tried, his body language giving away that you had him reeled in.

“Probably one of the most influential.”, he smirked, bringing his glass to his lips before setting it down gently on the counter. “I work in the luxury goods market. Seems to bring in a lot of revenue when you work with… delicacies.”

“Any ones in particular that you like?”

“Diamonds. They’re the most expensive and most worth the investment.”, you didn’t miss how his eyes trailed down your body, your dress clinging to your curves and the smooth skin of your legs showing off as you crossed them slightly. It didn’t take a genius to guess what he was thinking of. “You should come by my estate. We can talk more about them in private, in the comfort of a home.”

You wanted to cringe at his offer. His estate. You just remembered exactly why you hated the majority of the rich people in Gotham. You forced your face to stay neutral, your eyes flickering to your glass before taking the last sip of the wine.

“If you have some good red, and something worthwhile, I’ll consider it.”, you placed a hand on his knee, smiling at him with a sweet look on your face. Sweet yet seductive. It made him latch onto the bait. He leaned in, taking out a business card and handing it to you.

“Here’s the address, come on Saturday. When you arrive tell them you have an appointment with me.”, his voice was laced with lust, you could even see the tightness of his pants. You just did your finishing move, looking at his eyes before flickering quickly to his lips, then quickly back to his gaze seeing the growing darkness in his hues. Your face leaned into his, your hand moving slowly up his leg and slightly on his thigh.

“I look forward to it.”, you smiled at him, grabbing your purse and leaving a $100 on the counter before walking away, his eyes on you as you walked out confidently but slowly so he could reel more into the trap you laid out.

Once you reached the outside of the building, your car pulled up, the valet opening the door as you stepped inside and got comfortable. You gave the driver your address as he started following his GPS.

You looked at the card Calvi gave you, looking at the information and finding out his estate was about 30 minutes outside of the main parts of the city. Gotham Heights. The rich and powerful all lived on this side of the city.

You committed to memorizing the address, tucking it into your purse as the driver arrived at your complex, tipping the driver before heading up the elevator and pushing through the door of your apartment.

It was late, looking at the clock as it read 10pm.

You really shouldn’t have stayed so long but the time seemed to pass a lot faster when the jobs involved going undercover versus being in the field. You liked infiltrating others’ lives and playing the part even for just a few hours. It brought some insight to the life you’d never have.

Kicking off your heels, you rubbed the backs of your feet, ankles red from walking in them for the evening. You never sported heels often but you did so enough that it was easy enough to walk in them. They still hurt your feet though.

A small noise snapped you to attention, pulling out your gun from the drawer in the kitchen, just one of many you had stashed throughout the apartment. You slowly did a walk through, looking closely at each of the rooms, looking through everything as you finished out the closets in the living room and moved into the bedroom.

The lights were off. Nothing seemed out of place.

You slowly moved towards the restroom, checking the closet, in the shower, hell even the cabinets even though logically a human couldn’t fit in there. You relaxed slightly, walking back into the bedroom, the darkness looming from outside as the night got darker.

Just as you began to walk out of the room, you noticed something.

One of the vases you had filled with water was knocked over…

What the hell?

The feeling of rough hands gripping your arm sent you into fight mode, struggling against the person assaulting you as you tried to hit them with the bottom of the gun. Their grip tightened, forcing your hand to release the gun before you felt your body get thrown on the bed and shoved into the mattress.

Just as you began to curse at them, a large hand clamped over your mouth, that familiar red helmet bringing an anger in your bones.

“Shhh, don’t want to wake the neighbors now do we?”, he muttered.

Your eyes glared daggers at him, wishing they were real so he could suffer from the cuts. Your body was stuck under his, his muscular legs holding your body in place as the rest of his frame was being held up by one arm. He was huge compared to you. His body radiating a heat that left your skin on fire. You felt exposed. You weren’t wearing anything but a measly dress, your chest almost flush against his.

“You sure do make it believable enough that you’re one of them.”, he had a mocking tone to his voice, your body still trying to thrash against him but to no avail. “Now, what are you doing at Sapphire talking to Calvi Calbera?”

Before he made another move, you kicked him in the groin, hard enough to make him double over and loosen his grip on you. It was more than enough time to shove him to the ground, grabbing the dagger that was hidden under your dresser and getting on top of him, your knees holding down his arms as you held the dagger to his throat.

“How the hell did you find where I live?!”, you bit out, your breath uneven as you felt the rush of adrenaline in your body. “How did you get in?!”

“Sweetheart, I’m a detective. I can find anything out about anyone in this city whenever I want. Even you.”, his eyes narrowed as a way to taunt you causing your jaw to clench in irritation as you brought your face closer to his and staring at him with murder in your eyes.

“How. Did. You. Get. In.”, you repeated, this time more serious and the knife pricking his skin, the small trickle of blood running down the side of his neck.

“Window, doll.”, he motioned slightly with a small cock of his head. “You didn’t lock it.”

You turned to look at the window, noticing the lock was intact, not broken. If he broke in, the lock wouldn’t look like it was brand new and yet it was. Had you really forgotten to lock it? You looked at the window before turning back to Red, confusion quickly covered up with frustration.

“You have no right coming to my home.”

“I wasn’t asking for an invite.” , you leaned back slightly, the weight of your legs on his arms lifting as you felt him sit up, your body still sitting on his as you glared at him. He didn’t make any sudden movements, just held your gaze as you held the knife to his throat still.

“Why are you here?”, you asked, about to pull yourself off of him before his hand grabbed a handful of your hair, gripping it and forcing you to look at him.

“You need to learn your place. That’s why I’m here.”, he pulled you closer to his helmet, his eyes boring into yours. “You cost me $100k. On a good shipment batch. I think I’ll have to send a message back to the fat bird to get my point across to not fuck with me.”

“You have tried killing me every time we’ve run into each other for the past month!”, you fought back, his grip tightening.

“Don’t act like the feeling isn’t mutual”, he breathed.

“I have a job to do. Killing you gets me out of this fucking city”, you struggled against him, trying to make him release his grip.

“And you’ve failed every time. Why is that sweetheart? What are you hiding?”

“Fuck. Off.”, you bit out.

Why was he testing you?

He had an open shot to snap your neck, he could just do it and get it over with.

“Does it have to do with Black Mask? You seem to hold a resentment when all he wants is your attention”

“I don’t care about what he wants. I don’t give a damn about him.”

His gaze held yours, feeling his hand go slack as you pushed yourself off of him. You threw the knife on the dresser, rolling your arm from the soreness. He watched you as you moved, his eyes skimming over your body as your back was turned to him.

What was your motive? Why did you let him go?

The question whirled in his head as you turned, staring at him as he remained exposed on the floor. He wasn’t vulnerable, he had everything he needed to disable you, yet he didn’t move.

“Leave. Now.”

“So bossy”, he muttered as he stood, his frame towering over you. Your body moved back as he pressed you against the nightstand, his arms on either side of your body as he caged you in. “What’s going on in that head of yours? Why let me go when your job is to kill me?” he mummed, cocking his head in turn.

“Spite”, was all you said, the seconds ticking by as he let out a deep chuckle before pushing back and heading towards the window he’d climbed in through, pushing himself out and leaving.

There was an emptiness that flooded the room, but you couldn’t quite place it. Red was getting too comfortable with just showing up into your life whenever he wanted. What was he hiding? What was he up to?

You slipped out of your dress, changing into an oversized shirt and leaving nothing but underwear on as you tied your hair up and washed your face. You stared at yourself for a moment in the mirror, a flood of emotion overwhelming you as you reached to touch the necklace around your neck.

Would everything be different if you were still here?

The memories flooded you, every pact you made to never become a part of this life entering your mind. Would you have been swept away and been out of Gotham had he come back?

~

“You do realize that Batman will kill me if he found out about this?”, Robin said as you and him snuck through the city, reaching another rooftop that just peered over the water.

“C’mon it’ll be fine, besides when do you ever see fireworks that aren’t because of some criminal trying to create a diversion?”, you laughed as he rolled his eyes.

“Good point.”, he smiled, following as you stood on the ledge, watching as the countdown sounding out went down a second at a time.

“Okay Gotham, let’s get ready for our 10-second countdown!” you heard the announcer over the speaker say as the crowd chanted.

“5! 4! 3! 2!….1!”, the onslaught of fireworks and sparklers lit up the night, the crowd screaming, shouting, celebrating the coming of the New Year.

You looked at the fireworks, your eyes glowing at the sight. It’d be the first time you’ve seen them in such a way. celebratory fashion.

“Aren’t they-“, your words got cut off at the feeling of Robin grabbing your face, planting a kiss on your lips and bringing you closer to him. You melted into him, his hands tightening around your waist. He flooded your senses, your entire body falling into his charm, his humor, his intelligence, his heart, his everything.

He pulled away from the kiss, his forehead resting on yours as he stared at you.

“Happy New Year (Y/n)”, he whispered as you smiled against his lips.

“Happy New Year, Rob”, you whispered back.

~

If only times were as simple as they once were. Nothing was ever as it seemed and that was the reality of your situation. Everything would always fade away from you, only leaving yourself to get out alive.

What a foolish thing to believe in at such a young age. You were only 15, him 16. There was too much of life to live to assume that moment could stay isolated in time forever. You could only hope.

Turning off the faucet, you went back to bed, laying down as you looked out the window and took in the light from the moon, a part of you feeling like someone was watching.

You looked at the lock, lifting yourself up to close it but freezing in the process. You couldn’t explain why but you settled back into bed.

The lock on the window still left open.

You had finalized the steps of your plan, fixing your hair as you pinned a few pieces up and left others to frame your face. It gave you a delicate look, softened your features and gave you a sort of edge. It was dark, sultry.

Spraying a few pumps of your perfume on your neck and wrists, you took one last look in the mirror. You looked sexy, seductive, like any man would fall at your feet. It gave you a boost of confidence as you grabbed your small clutch off the counter, ensuring your dagger was hidden at the bottom with a decent amount of cash, your wallet, lipstick, and your gun. It was along the lining but the bulge was hidden thanks to the other items in your bag.

It took about 20-30 minutes to reach Calvi’s estate, watching as the mansion pulled into view. It was beautiful, and the architecture was gothic but with a light twist of old money and class. It was bright, the reflection from the setting sun making it glow beautifully. There was a garden in the front as the gates opened, the driver buzzing in at the entrance as you showed your identification. Fake identification at that.

The car pulled into the driveway that wrapped around a fountain. It was made of marble, and had beautiful carvings in the stone. It was so intricate you could’ve sworn it might’ve been made by a renaissance sculptor.

The door opened as one of the butlers pulled it away from the car, holding a hand for you to grab onto as you thanked them, a soft smile thrown in their direction.

You walked up the staircase, Calvi waiting for you in his fitted suit, his hair freshly cut and his hands in his pockets as he smiled at you. He extended a hand, taking yours in his as he pressed a kiss on your knuckles.

Chivalry isn’t dead after all.

His eyes did a quick skim of your body, the dress you wore hugging your figure perfectly, the back being exposed to show some skin. It had a pearl chain that hung loosely in the back, but overall the entire ensemble was more than enough to lure him in.

He led you down the hall, the walls covered in old art and the tables filled with flowers, probably thanks to his housing staff. It was unique, grand, over the top yet simple and calming at the same time. You’d been in Gotham Heights’ homes before, but none really drew you in like this one was right now. Calvi had taste, or at least the person who selected his decor had taste.

A flash of blue caught your eye, you stopped as you looked at it. Perfectly marked shades of yellow contrast against the blue, it was beautiful. Something you’d never imagined you’d see.

“Is this real?”, you asked, your eyes glued to the painting.

“Every piece in this house is real, my dear.”

Your head tilted as you soaked in the work of art in front of you. The impressionism was well done, though you knew the history behind the piece.

“You like Van Gogh?”Calvi hummed next to you.

You paused for a moment, soaking in admiration at the lilies in the painting. Each stroke is simple, delicate, and impactful. Van Gogh definitely had a mind far beyond comprehension. You closed your eyes, turning to Calvi and smiling at him.

“No. Not at all actually.”, you responded as you followed him down the hall.

~

“You like to read?”, you laughed as you grabbed one of the books Robin had brought with him.

“Yeah, I read a lot of Jane Austen, Virginia Woolf too.”, he flipped through some of the pages, almost like he was examining the book as you read the back of the book in your hand.

“How exactly did you get into reading?”

Robin shrugged. “I guess all that free time sneaking into libraries paid off.” he handed you a fry, biting down on it as you finished reading the back of the hardcover. “What about you? Do you like reading?”

“Mmm, no. But the family has a lot of cool paintings around the house. Sometimes I look up what they are and learn about the history of it. I think Rembrant and Van Gogh are my favorites.”

“Yeah? Art history. Almost as cool as Literature”

“It’s way cooler than Literature”, you smirked at him as he rolled his eyes behind his mask.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s your favorite and why?”, he leaned back on his hands, watching as you sat in your thoughts for a few moments, contemplating an answer before lighting up in excitement.

“Oh! Definitely a Vase with irises against a yellow background.”

“Jesus, who the hell gave it that long name?”

You shoved his shoulder playfully before grabbing another fry from the small basket he’d brought with him. He often brought burgers and fries for the two of you to share while you caught up for the week. He was able to see you more frequently compared to when you first met a few months ago.

“Van Gogh did, and it’s a great work of art. It’s an impressionist painting. He did it while he was in the psych clinic. I think it’s actually one of the last paintings he ever did before he died. Anyway, I just really like it. The contrast makes it even more interesting to look at because blue and yellow are such bright happy colors and yet, you understand the emotion he felt. A lot of people think it symbolizes his desire to escape, leave the asylum and never look back.”

“Is that why you like it? Because he wanted to escape and never look back?”, you knew exactly why he asked, your heart tugging in your chest as you met his eye line.

“Yeah, I guess so.”, you confessed, “But, I’ve been wanting to escape a lot less recently.”

Robin smiled at you softly, your eyes staring at him with gratitude. He really had made Gotham worthwhile. He made everything worthwhile.

“Yeah, me too.”

~

“And this is our sitting room. I usually bring guests in to sit and share a drink while we talk over business, personal matters, or just anything life throws at us.”

You snapped back to reality at the sound of Calvi’s voice. You forced yourself to tuck away the thought of the past, focusing on the task at hand. He led you into the room, motioning at the butler inside to fetch some drinks. You sat down gently on the couch, watching as he grabbed the two glasses from the waiter and handed one to you.

“Our Finest red.”, he motioned as you took a sip of the wine.

It was rich, full and sweet. You didn’t know a red could be sweet and yet, here it was. It tasted magnificent.

"So, Vivian.”, he put his arm on the headrest behind you. “A penny for your thoughts?”

“Just wondering how you managed to get such a beautiful home, I’m feeling quite jealous.”, you smiled at him, sipping your glass once again.

“My family works in luxury goods, but after the passing of my parents I figured I could use my investments… differently.”

“Differently?”, you cocked an eyebrow.

“There is a whole other side to the Gotham business than you realize, my dear.”, he leaned in.

I realize more than you do asshole.

“Should I be worried?”, you leaned forward, gently placing a hand on his knee, his eyes flickering with pride.

“I’ll share so long as you can keep it a secret?”, Oh. He was dying to impress you. You could see it all over his body language. Calvi was a smart man, filthy rich, and even had questionable business practices. You needed to see if he truly played a hand in Gotham’s underground like Penguin’s intel had stated. If he did, getting him to partner with the Boss would be a lot easier than you thought.

“If it makes you feel better… I’ll share a secret first. Even the playing field.”, you ran your hand along his tie, fixing it to lay flat on his dress shirt and under the suit he had on. Your eyes met his dark ones as he watched you intently.

“Please share..”, his lips remained parted as he watched your movements, you could tell his heart was beating faster just by the looks of him.

You leaned forward, your face inches from his before you parted your lips, your mouth strategically close to his for effect. “I have a thing for men with a little… edge to them.” you whispered, recognizing the flicker in his eyes the moment you spoke. “You’ve reeled me in, can you get me hooked?”

“I can get you more than just hooked, baby.”, he moved towards you, “I’ll get you addicted.”

You lifted a hand, tracing his jaw slightly, your lips softly grazing his as you pushed him against the couch, throwing your legs over his as you sat up, melding your body close to his.

“So then, enlighten me.”

His hand landed on your thigh, his fingers squeezing a bit before he spoke, the tension growing by the second. “I have connections with the trades on the East side of Gotham. A few business partners help me invest my money where money never ends. I get protection, money, and reputation. All I do is invest and help them make shipments then I make more income than the majority of the people at Sapphire.”

Bingo. He confirmed what you needed to know. If he already had connections with the underground, who were they with?

“Sounds dangerous.”, you fed the bait slowly.

“It keeps money in my pockets, keeps the business alive. Gotham’s underground is a never ending flow of money”

You felt his hand trail up your thigh, the skin growing cold as he pushed your dress up slightly. His eyes tried to dig into yours, but your facade was bulletproof. No one could break you or make you show your true self. Calvi would never even come close to doing so.

The knock on the room door broke the moment much to your satisfaction. Calvi closed his eyes in annoyance, calling out for the guest to come in. Two tall men came in, dressed in all black and wearing a headset. You moved away from Calvi as he stood, walking over to the men as they talked in whispers with him. You committed every part of their appearance to memory, from the clothing they wore, the brand of the headset, to the miniscule scars they had that almost seemed like a branding symbol. You stowed it away in the capsule in your head to later jot down for future reference.

“Vivian.”Calvi turned towards you as you rose from the couch, fixing the small part of your dress that rose a centimeter. “I’m afraid something has come up that requires my attention. I’ll fetch a car for you but please, we need to finish our conversation next time.”

You looked up at him with innocence in your eyes, simply nodding before placing a soft kiss on his cheek, placing a gentle hand on his arm before you went down the corridor to the outside where the car waited for you. You had given your address to the driver and he dropped you off at your complex, leaving you to push through the doors and crash on the bed.

Once you hit the sheets you let out a sigh of relief. God, why was this so taxing? What information did this man have that was so important to Penguin when there were a hundred other men who had the same connections that the boss could do business with? The act of questioning the boss wasn’t an option though, so instead you continued with your assignment as normal.

The next few weeks proved to be normal, simple, barely any information of use. The whole job seemed lackluster, almost a waste of your time but you needed to convince Calvi to work with Penguin. It would be the biggest asset in getting your payout.

That was the goal for your upcoming visit after all.

2 Weeks Later

Entering the location Calvi had given you gave you an edge, it was a club. Mid-level. It was where all of the crooked men of Gotham came to dip into the pool of the underground. It also happened to be one of the investments that Calvi had on the East side. It was similar to the Lounge, though the clientele were more Upper Gotham trying to hide in the shadows.

You walked into the room with seductive confidence, your aura radiating pure lust, seduction, and darkness. You walked to the back of the club, feeling some of the men look at you as you passed by. They would always be enamored by you, all the brainless men in the underground were. They never knew who you were, never knew your name or your looks because you did good in presenting yourself entirely differently each time.

DIfferent hair, different makeup, different energy. Needless to say, they all fell for it every single time. Your dress hugged your figure, stopping mid thigh and carving out your curves to be more prominent, your long, dark hair falling down your back as you fixed your earrings that had dangling strands as you reapplied your dark red lipstick. Seduction was the game and you were the physical embodiment of the word.

You walked up to the red door down the hall, a tall bulky man standing in front of the door as he stared at your body, his eyes roaming and taking you in. You internally smirked at how easy men were to manipulate.

“I have a meeting with Calvi, my name is Vivian.”, you lied through your teeth as the guard grunted and walked inside the room, only to open the door for you a few moments later. “Thank you.”, your lips pulled into a perfect red smile as you walked by him, looking into the room and taking in your surroundings.

The room had a dark atmosphere but was lit by dim lights around the room. A couch in the middle of the room with two solo seating seats, a glass table in the middle with a glass bottle of what seemed like whiskey on the tray on top, two glasses complimenting the bottle. You took in the velvet colors on the furniture, the paintings on the walls adding nice accents as the door on the very end of the room opposite of the main door opened.

“Vivian.”, he smiled at the sight of you, a few men surrounding him as they played poker. They all looked familiar. Probably those men from Sapphire he played chess with. He placed a gentle hand on your back, leading you to the couch as the men watched you intently. “I’m glad you made it.” his suave voice rang out, deep but sophisticated, full of authority.

He had his dark hair slicked back, a dark suit fitted to his body that probably cost him a couple thousands of dollars, his bold gold watch wrapped around his wrist as he walked towards you adjusting his cuffs. He radiated a type of energy that would leave a normal woman at his feet, begging to be taken by him. Your eyes zeroed in on him, taking him in with your dark hues, letting the second round of the game begin.

“Thank you for inviting me, I’ve been looking forward to hearing from you again.”, you sat down as you looked up at him, your stare innocently seductive. He dropped a smile at you, one that could make anyone swoon after him, but you knew his background and you needed to play your cards right in order to convince this man fully.

You watched as he walked to the far side of the room, near the small bar area. “Any wine?”

“Château Lafite Rothschild, if you have it”,

“I love a woman with expensive taste.” he pulled out a bottle which left an impressive look on your face. “1998, it’s more aged.”

He poured your wine before pouring his own Whiskey into a glass and walking over to you, handing you the wine before sitting next to you. You opened your body up to him, not letting him take a hint of your body language being too closed off.

He turned his body to face you, his arm on the head of the couch and his leg crossed over his other. He exuded dominant energy even in a position of relaxation. You weren’t naive though, you knew he was always on guard, especially working with the criminals of Gotham on a regular basis. Anyone could call a hit on him, it made sense he didn’t let his guard down completely.

“I really appreciate aged wine, it’s more of a delicacy so it’s nice when someone actually has it around.”, you smiled at him, his eyes focused on you while you noticed his friends skimming your legs. God these men. So easy to manipulate.

“I wanted to ask about a painting, actually.”, you asked truthfully.

“Anything for you Vivian.”, his full focus was on you, before he motioned for his men to kick out his guests, all the men leaving in a file line as the music from the club slowly leaked into the backroom and his guards stood outside the door. The two of you now alone.

“I want to see how much it would cost to get a Monet in hand. One that has a good price on it.”, his eyes flickered with interest at the mention of the French artist. He had to know how to source one one way or another.

“Which painting are you wanting to inquire about?”

“I’ve wanted to own an authentic version of Le Bassin Aux Nymphéas.”, you said confidently, trying to gauge his interest.

“My dear, it's an $80 million painting.”

“I just.. Wanted to see how much it would take to get it. I have the funds to back up my inquiry.” you played with his tie, smoothing out the folds of his suit.

“I know it’s a difficult piece to acquire, I would need someone to endorse my interests and hold power over the transactional process. I couldn’t think of anyone better than you”, you slowly placed your hand on his chest, letting him soak in your touch. You felt the way his body reacted slightly to you, his heart skipping a beat. You looked into his eyes, seeing that same lustful emotion run through his body. You could see the tightening in his jaw, his hand clenching slightly on the couch.

You noticed the immediate intrigue in his expression. Even he knew the process of getting such a painting would be difficult, expensive and timely. He had a strong hand in the world of luxury goods, his entire business and company focused on the foreign trade of luxury goods and rare objects for high profile clients. This was just another job he would be able to make by pulling black market strings. Everyone in the real world knew Calvi as the charming, handsome CEO of a luxury goods company, but the underground knew him as a black market ring leader. What he made in the underground quadrupled in 6 months what he made in a year in his company. To say he was wealthy would be an understatement.

“What made you so interested in an $80 million painting?”

“I want it for my personal collection. I want it to be desired, taken care of, protected”, your voice flowed through your lips smoothly, your body leaning into Calvi’s as you played softly with his collar, your fingers tracing lines on his suit. Your eyes focused on his tie before meeting his eyes and seeing the absolute craze happening inside of him. His brown eyes stared at you with lust, desire, control, and you knew you were playing your game well.

“I want it to be treated, the way any timeless rarity, any delicate precious luxury should be treated.”, his hand found its way to your leg, rubbing soft circles on your skin as you played your cards. You stared at his lips, then flashed back up to his eyes, letting yourself soak into the moment, letting him slowly unravel underneath your spell. Calvi’s eyes focused on your eyes, then down to your lips, the bright color of your red lips slowly drawing him in.

“You know how to do that don’t you? How to take care of.. Precious delicacies?”, you whispered against his lips, almost pressing against yours as he breathed. You let your hand lay on his chest as the other landed on his hand on your leg. Checkmate.

“I know more than just simply taking care of them, my dear.”, he breathed as he closed the gap between the two of you, his lips savagely consuming you, your hand on his chest as he pushed you against the couch. His hand reached into your hair, tightening as he deepened the kiss, his tongue battling it out with yours as you felt his skin catch on fire. He had been wanting to devour you since you first met a month ago, and now, he was a mindless pawn in your game to get what you wanted. You played the part well, you knew it would be far too easy to get someone like him to fall to his knees for you. It only took a month, but it worked.

“Boss.”

Calvi pulled away, his hand still tangled in your hair as you opened your eyes and met his, his hues full of lust and need. Only after a second, he turned to his guard.

“What is it?”, his voice was filled with irritation.

“I hate to interrupt, but you have a visitor.”, the guard let out. “He’s here for business”

“Tell him to come back tomorrow”, Calvi turned to you again, his eyes taking in your swollen lips and dark eyes. Empty eyes but he didn’t need to know how void of emotion you were.

“Sir.”, the guard pressed before saying something that even you couldn’t ignore. “It’s the Red Hood.”

You felt your blood run cold, forcing yourself to remain calm at the mention of his name. You noticed how Calvi almost immediately snapped into attention. He looked at his guard, nodding and telling him to give him five minutes before bringing him in. He fixed his suit and his hair, wiping off the red stain that was on his lips as you fixed your hair and your dress.

“I didn’t know you had company.”, you said as you watched him. “I can come back another time.”

“Nonsense, my dear. It’ll be quick business, then we can get back to our… discussion about your inquiry on the Monet.”

As he finished, the door opened again, your eyes panned over to the other man standing at the door. A wall of pure, solid muscle covered completely in kevlar, daggers, and guns. A black motorcycle jacket on his upper half and dark combat boots, his bright red helmet making a statement as he entered. He completely flooded your senses with his intensity and dominance. You stared at him as he looked into the room, but you knew he was glaring daggers at you from under his helmet. When didn’t he completely despise anything you did?

“Red Hood. It’s a pleasure to have you here.” Calvi spoke confidently, his hand motioning towards the seat in front of the couch as he sat down next to you. You noticed the slits where his eyes should be narrow slightly no doubt recognizing what you and Calvi were doing. Your hair was a bit messy, and your lips were swollen. To anyone else they would have ignored it. But Red caught it immediately.

“What can I help you with?”

“I don’t mean to interrupt your… affairs, but I have an order to make”, Red’s deep, distorted voice rang out as he glared at Calvi’s hand slightly touching you from the top of the couch. Your eyes narrowed at him and even not being able to see his expression, you knew he was pissed. “I need 4 shipments of Fear Toxin and Miraclo, and two shipments holding AK47s, MFA1 Carbines, and M1928s.”

“When do you need your shipments?”

“Next week.”, Red stood with his arms crossed, staring at you then back at Calvi. You sent him looks filled with annoyance and frustration. You wanted nothing more than to be able to punch him in the jaw. “We have work that needs to be done.”

A subtle threat only meant for you.

What was he planning?

“It’ll be a tight schedule, but I’ll make sure it gets here in 3 days time. I’ll give you your total statement then to ensure payment is processed and received.”

“Good, now, get home Calvi.”, he ordered. You nearly scoffed at how you just witnessed the Red Hood give the king of the black market orders.

“Excuse me?”, Calvi questioned. “Get home? Are you my mother now?”

“No, but I am the guy keeping protection on your little operations, so if you want our contract to not be void, I suggest you listen. I won’t repeat myself twice.”

So Red was his contact. No wonder Calvi seemed well composed and confident in himself. Red was giving him all the protection he needed along with the pay for sourcing weapons for him. Foreign goods. Yeah, those militant weapons were foreign alright.

Calvi stared at him, letting the seconds pass and the tension grow, before standing and fixing his suit. “It’s a pleasure as always Hood. Vivian, let’s go, my dear.”

“The girl leaves. You won’t be needing her to help you get home.”

Calvi narrowed his eyes, your position still sitting on the couch. You felt your body fill with overwhelming anger, you wanted to kill the Red Hood more than anything but you couldn’t give up your facade of the calm, collected woman you were right now. You’d have to deal with him later.

“Vivian, I’ll get my driver to-”

“I’ll make sure she gets a ride.”, Red interrupted him. “I’ll have your guard get her a cab.”

Calvi clenched his teeth, his jaw flexing as you stood and walked over to him. You swayed your hips purposely to get a rise out of the masked vigilante, reaching your hands to touch Calvi’s face.

“I can get home. I look forward to continuing our discussion when we’re able to, okay?”, Calvi grunted in agreement before you gave him a kiss on the cheek, keeping your touch on him longer than you normally would just to get a rise out of the man burning holes into your back. You walked past Red Hood, walking out the door and getting in your cab. You were silent the entire way home, letting yourself bask in the anger eating you alive as you tried to calm down.

You entered your apartment angrily, throwing your clutch on the counter before shoving the heels off your feet.

Who did he think he was?!

God, you were on the right track, you have Calvi wrapped around your finger and of course, it’s him that Calvi has ties with. Now your entire plan was set back thanks to the infuriating red vermin.

You placed your hands on the counter, leaning forward as you stared at the ground. You needed to breathe. Relax. You could not let him get to you. Especially not like this.

Was this payback for the past month of you raiding his jobs? For making him lose all that money? He already wanted to kill you and you him, but why did him barging in on your jobs piss you off even more? You’d rather he just put the bullet in your head and call it a day than have to deal with the anger that flooded your veins every time you saw him.

“You really know how to play the part of seductress don’t you?”, that deep, distorted voice ripped you out of your focus. You felt the anger rise in you again. You turned to look at him, all 225 pounds of him, with his overwhelming presence, his annoying glare as he stared at your form. You were still wearing your dress, your hair still done and your makeup still flawless. And yet, the ugly side of you was about to come out and go head to head with this man.

“Get out of my apartment, Red.”, you bit out, the venom lacing your voice.

“What were you planning on doing? Seducing him?”, he pressed, his voice had an edge to it. “Were you going to reel him in? Get him under your spell so he would do you favors?”

“I said, get out!”, you turned to look at him, your eyes red with fury, your skin burning in irritation, and your heart pounding as you stood in front of him, looking up due to the obvious height difference. Red started to walk towards you, forcing you against the wall as he raised his arm to trap you against his muscular form and the brick. You wanted to fucking kill him.

“Were you going to let him have his way with you?”, he lowered his head, his voice deeper than it was before, the edge growing sharper. There was something dark in his voice, dangerous, full of instability. Your jaw clenched as you tried shoving him away, punching his chest as you shoved your face in his, the hate evident like you were an angered bull.

“Let him be taken by you? Let him touch you, use you, maybe even let him fuck you?”, You punched him again, shoving your hands into his chest as you pushed out of his grasp, snapping at him when he tried to touch you.

“Fucking leave me alone!” you yelled, your voice raw and your adrenaline pumping. You were certain you could kill him right now given the chance. You tried reaching for the gun in your bag, only to feel his hands stop you, pushing you against the table as he pressed his chest flush with your back, his face right next to your ear as he spoke in a dark tone.

“I know your little game, (Y/n). You can fool Calvi, seduce him, manipulate him, brainwash him. But I know. I know every little thing that you’re doing.”, he pressed his body against you, his leg separating your thighs, pressing against you. “You can’t fool me, sweetheart.”

“You son of a bitch..”, you felt on fire, struggling against him, pushing yourself back as he turned you around, forcing himself into your space. Your body was still wrapped in your dress, your breasts were practically on his chest, his arms trapping you as he overwhelmed your senses.

“Tell me, (Y/n), do you think he’d know how to take care of you?”, his voice got deeper, his hand grabbing your face so your eyes would meet his. His body pressed against you, the muscle of his legs causing your skin to heat. “Would he know the first thing about where to touch you?”, his leg pushed against your core, your body responding to his sudden movements. “Would he know how to fuck you?”.

Your eyes narrowed in hatred, absolute hate and fury. There was no hiding it, even he could see the absolute lack of control you had right now and you hated it. You hated him.

His voice was in your ear, his hand grabbing your waist as the other wrapped itself around your throat. “Would he be able to make you scream his name?”. God, he filled your senses and pushed you into overdrive. “Would he be able to absolutely fuck the sense out of you and make you his? Take every part of you and make you beg?” his voice dripped with conviction, repeating himself a final time. “Tell me sweetheart, do you think he’s the one to make you his?”

You couldn’t take the pressure building in between your thighs. You didn’t want to have this reaction to him, but your body had other plans, ones you couldn’t control or hide.

“Why are you so interested in my personal life, Red?”, you challenged. You needed to get your power back from him. “Do you think you’d be able to do even half of what you’re saying Calvi would do to me?”

“Sweetheart, if I had you, there wouldn’t be a doubt in anyone’s mind who you belonged to.”

You stared at him with heat in your eyes, you knew he could see how flustered you were but you didn’t want to give him more power than he already had. You suddenly felt his gloved hand on your neck, his fingers softly clutching your face.

“I don’t belong to anyone. Especially not you”, you bit out, your teeth clenched as he held your gaze.

“Keep telling yourself that, Sweetheart.”, he pushed himself away from you, heading towards the window. “Calvi works for me. He won’t be so naive to fall into your tricks.”

“Leave, Red.”, you forced out, your anger still consuming you. You watched as he climbed out the window and out into the night, your body still in overdrive from his touch.

Why did he leave you feeling this way?

How did he get you this riled up?

Why did he care about you going after Calvi?

And most importantly, what was his motive?

A/N: Here is chapter 3! Hope you guys enjoy it!

I have been sick the past week so I was able to edit and get this up for you guys. I love the reactions to this series so please leave all your comments and thoughts! I love reading them and look forward to hearing more from you guys.

Until Next Week xx.

[dazed-and-confused23]

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 12

Pure Indulgence 3

Summary: You and Cooper have stayed a couple of weeks in Goodneighbor, and as much as John wants the two of you to stay, he knows that he could never ask either of you to. It's a shame the mayor has always had a problem with falling hard and fast.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader / John Hancock x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut and drug use. It's more fluffy than anything, I think. John is sad 😔

Masterlist

You wake to the sound of hushed, husky voices. Your head throbs from the alcohol the night before, but it's manageable enough for you to crack your eyes open. The first thing you see is a scared chest, and you peek up to see that you're cuddled against John. The mayor has you tucked close, a cigarette between two fingers on his free hand, and black eyes looking at the other ghoul that sits on the edge of the bed.

"Commonwealth is a dangerous place. We've got shit you won't ever believe," John rasps over you, and you hear the familiar timber of Cooper’s voice respond seconds later.

"Ain't nothin' we can't handle. Besides. It's not like we'll be stayin' long."

You hear the change in John's heartbeat. It speeds up, and the grip he has around your shoulders tightens for a split second before relaxing again. You smell the acidic smoke that Hancock blows out his ruined nose and hear the odd tilt of his voice when he speaks up.

"Yeah, I know, Coop," John exhales heavily with another plum of smoke, "Still plan on leaving today?"

You watch Cooper shrug his shoulders and take in the expance of his scared back. There are bullet and knife woulds everywhere. You've mapped out most of them with your hands and tongue and lips. So has John.

You don't like the thought of leaving the ghoul behind, but exploration calls your name, and you know that it'd be unfair to drag the mayor away from his home. You didn't think it was possible for you to care for another like you did Cooper, but here you were.

"If she wants to. I'm just the muscle. She's the girl with the plans," Cooper rumbles, and the bed dips when he shifts to face John on the bed. He holds a canister of jet and exchanges the chem for the cigarette that the other ghoul holds. He casts his eyes down and smirks when he notices that you're awake.

"Speak of the devil," He quips and reaches out to pat your sheet covered ass, "How long've you been up?"

John shifts below you, and you gift the mayor a small smile. You shrug in answer and turn to place a chaste kiss against Hancock's chest.

"Long enough," you murmur, and John tenses under you. It's obvious that you've been listening in on their conversation. You don't like making the ghoul feel bad, but lingering any longer, and it would be all the worse.

"How'd you sleep, Sunshine?" Hancock asks, and his free hand smooths over your back to gently stroke your hair, pulling it away and out of your face. It's a forced change in subject, but you don't mind.

"Considering I'm the meat in a ghoul sandwich - pretty good," you tease with a snicker. Hancock wheezes a laugh, and Cooper rolls his eyes at you, though you still catch a fond look sent your way.

John watches the smoothskin and the other ghoul. He doesn't want them to leave. He likes having your easy amusement around and Cooper’s dry, western humor. The two of you were like taking one of his favorite grape mentats every time you rolled into Goodneighbor, and it hurt to know that you planned on leaving the Commonwealth.

The two of you belonged in his town, and Hancock could only hope that neither of you would forget about him. It sounded sad and pathetic even to his own ears, but John had always had a problem with loving a little too easily.

He licks his dry lips and forces a smile, "Let's talk serious for a second, yeah?" Usually, John wasn't down for things like this, but you? You made him feel different. He suspected it was the same thing about you that made Cooper stay around.

"You'll be careful out there. The Institute isn't just some fairy tale like you hear people whisper about in the streets. Not to mention those tin cans that still patrol around here-."

The mayor of Goodneighbor shuts up with a disgruntled huff and glares at Cooper, who had grabbed his leg and dragged him down to lay on the bed. The other ghoul glares right back, lips mulled into a mean smirk. You, having been dislodged in the sudden motion, find a comfortable seat on John's lap and grin down at him.

"Told you earlier not to be thinkin' bout that kinda stuff, John, " Cooper groused from where he lounged behind you.

"Yeah, just cause we're leaving doesn't mean we're gonna be gone forever," you say and reach out, placing your palms on his sunken cheeks and smiling down at him, "You're a part of us now, even if we're not here."

John can't help but smile back and turn his face to press a kiss to your wrist. You were right, of course, but the ghoul would still miss the two of you.

"Then how about you give me something to remember you by, Sunshine?" Hancock says, and his hands come up to land on your hips, his own rocking up and against your exposed sex. His cock drags through your folds, and the ghoul groans at the heat you put off. His fingers dig into your sides hard enough that dark marks would bloom by the evening.

Cooper watches from behind you, a satisfied smirk crossing his lips when he sees John's tip catch your opening and you slide home with a hiss. Despite his initial feelings, it's always a pleasure to watch you and the other ghoul fuck. John liked things slow and steady, something that the bounty hunter didn't have the patience for. It wasn't hard to see that the mayor had fallen quickly. Cooper couldn't blame him.

He makes himself comfortable, eyes latched to where John pistons in and out of his smoothskin, your cunt clenching around the other man's length as you dig your nails into the flesh of Hancock's shoulders. The two of you are loud and shameless, and Cooper knows that if he misses anything about the Commonwealth, it would be this.

[make1wish]

sequal of Sylus: Bloodnight Blaze

Dragon Sylus x Fem! Reader

TW: noncon, blood, NSFW 🔞

*setting: I (a female) was condemned as a witch by the masses and sentenced to death. To survive, I made a deal with Sylus - I would free him from human imprisonment, and in return, he would save my life. A unique bond formed between us. I have a stubborn and competitive personality, and I dare to challenge authority.

Hey guys! It’s my first time writing a fanfic about Sylus, hope you enjoy! :3

The ancient cave's crystalline walls caught the dim light, casting ethereal shadows across its vast expanse. Precious gems embedded in the rock face sparkled like countless stars, their light dancing off pools of clear water that dotted the cavern floor. The air was thick with an otherworldly warmth, a reminder of the dragon's presence that usually filled this space.

I paced anxiously near the cave's entrance, my footsteps echoing against the stone walls. Every few moments, my eyes darted to the cave's mouth, searching for any sign of Sylus's return. The magical crystals I'd prepared for healing lay carefully arranged on a smooth stone surface, their soft blue glow pulsing gently in the semi-darkness.

The sudden rush of wind announced his arrival before I saw him. Sylus's massive form blocked the cave entrance, his white hair gleaming like freshly fallen snow against the darkness. But something was wrong. His usually proud posture was slightly hunched, and dark liquid - blood - trickled down his armor, staining the ruby embedded in his chest plate.

"You're hurt," I whispered, my voice carrying more concern than I'd intended. My feet moved of their own accord, closing the distance between us.

Sylus's blood-red eyes fixed upon me, intense and unblinking. Despite his wounds, his presence remained commanding, filling the cavern with an almost palpable energy. "Your concern is... touching," he murmured, his deep voice resonating through my body. A slight smirk played across his lips, even as he winced from pain.

I reached toward one of his wounds, but hesitated, my hand hovering inches from his skin. The heat radiating from his body made my fingers tingle. His scales caught the crystal light, creating mesmerizing patterns that drew my gaze along his muscular form.

"Don't tell me you're suddenly shy," Sylus teased, catching my wrist in his large hand. His grip was gentle but firm, and he guided my palm to rest against his chest, just beside the glowing ruby. His scales were smooth and warm beneath my touch, and I could feel his heart beating steadily under my fingers.

"I saved your life once," he reminded me, his thumb tracing small circles on my wrist. "Surely you can return the favor?" His voice dropped lower, taking on a honeyed quality that made my breath catch. The way he looked at me - predatory yet tender - sent shivers down my spine.

My other hand reached for the healing crystals, but Sylus didn't release his hold on my wrist. Instead, he pulled me closer, until I could feel his breath ghosting across my face. The scent of smoke and something uniquely him filled my senses, making it difficult to focus on the task at hand.

The warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips sent waves of electricity through my body. I tried to focus on the healing crystals, but Sylus's presence was overwhelming, his massive form towering over me as I worked. Each brush of my fingers against his scales drew a subtle reaction - a sharp intake of breath, a slight tensing of his muscles.

"Your touch is... different today," he murmured, his deep voice rumbling through the cave. I kept my eyes fixed on the wound I was treating, refusing to acknowledge the heat rising in my cheeks. The dragon's words carried a weight that made my heart race, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing my composure crack.

"Hold still," I commanded, surprising myself with my boldness. A low chuckle resonated from his chest, and I felt rather than saw his amused smile. His hand came to rest on my waist, the touch seemingly casual but deliberately placed.

"Giving orders to a dragon?" His words carried a dangerous edge, but his grip remained gentle. "Have you forgotten who saved whom?" The ruby in his chest plate pulsed with a deeper red, matching the intensity in his eyes.

I pressed the healing crystal harder against his wound, drawing a sharp hiss from him. "And have you forgotten who freed you from your chains?" My defiance was met with a growl that should have terrified me, but instead sent shivers down my spine.

Sylus's other hand caught my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "I forget nothing," he whispered, his face inches from mine. "Every detail of our contract is seared into my memory." His thumb traced my lower lip, the gesture both threatening and tender.

The healing crystal slipped from my trembling fingers, but before it could fall, Sylus caught it with inhuman speed. His movement brought us even closer, his armor pressing against my chest. The cave seemed to grow warmer, the air thick with tension.

"Your heart is racing," he observed, his lips curving into a predatory smile. "Are you afraid of me, little witch?" His hand slid from my waist to the small of my back, pulling me firmly against him.

"No," I answered truthfully, though my voice wavered. My hands rested against his chest, caught between pushing him away and pulling him closer. The wounds I was supposed to be healing seemed forgotten as his scales shimpered beneath my palms.

His grip tightened possessively, and he leaned down until his breath ghosted across my ear. "Perhaps you should be," he whispered, his words carrying a promise that made my knees weak.

His whispered threat sent shivers down my spine as his warm breath caressed my ear. Without warning, his lips brushed against my neck, drawing a soft gasp from my throat. His scales were surprisingly smooth against my skin as his hands traced up my sides, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

"Let me show you what a dragon's touch can do," he murmured, his voice deep and resonant. His clawed fingers carefully undid the clasps of my robe, each movement deliberate and controlled. The cave's warmth seemed to intensify, matching the heat building between us.

I couldn't help but arch into his touch as his hands explored my newly exposed skin. The ruby in his chest plate pulsed with a deep crimson glow, matching the rhythm of our racing hearts. His touch was both gentle and possessive, each caress claiming me as his own.

His lips found mine in a searing kiss, stealing my breath away. The taste of smoke and something uniquely him filled my senses. My fingers tangled in his white hair, pulling him closer as his scaled hands mapped every curve of my body.

The healing crystals lay forgotten on the cave floor, their soft blue light mixing with the ruby's red glow to cast purple shadows across our intertwined forms. Each touch, each kiss, built the tension between us higher, transforming our contract into something far more primal and intense.

His lips were scorching, whispering into my ear, "Let me show you how dragons mark their possessions." His fingers gently traced my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Those golden eyes shimmered with a dangerous yet captivating light, as if to devour me whole…

(For the smutty follow-up content, plz go to Wattpad! Love y’all :p

[wutheringcaterpillar]

A Bump In The Night: Part 4

Find part 3 here

Summary: You’ve fallen ill and Lizzie decides to pay you a visit whilst Tommy is away. Meanwhile a certain Shelby goes missing and Tommy may or may not have something to do with it.

Warnings: Incest

taglist: @calmingmelody96@sunflower-tia

Weeks had passed since the family meeting, an agreement finally being made of what was to happen. This relationship and the rumors running around town could ruin business, especially with Tommy’s run for office.

The plan was to divert the public eye from making any speculations that you and Tommy were anything but a sibling relationship. 

The idea upset you immensely when Tommy agreed that he would no longer be picking you up from school, that you could no longer come visit him at work or be holding hands in public. No more lap sitting, or surprises, you needed to be distanced in public. It upset Tommy as much as you but he always had a better way at hiding his emotions then yourself.

Dwindling around, the house was quiet, no one home  but yourself on this cold winter today and you planned to make the best of it.

Stepping around in Tommy’s room, your hands skimmed through the fabric of his wardrobe wanting to find something comfortable to wear that smelt of him while he was away for the day.

You ended up pulling his wife beater off the dirty pile of laundry, slipping the thin fabric over your skin, feeling peace and coziness at last.

Knocking the pillow of the bed in the process of leaving, your heart warmed when the shirt you wore the first night your brother took your virginity was tucked beneath it.

The sound of your stomach rumbling moved you forward from the treasured moment.

Heading to the kitchen and searching the cupboards and the refrigerator, you pulled some eggs and bacon out, slapping the food onto the pan, you turned on your favorite radio station, cracking the window open to let the smoke out.

Everything was going smoothly until you sat down to eat the scrumptious breakfast.

Your stomach churned, the smell of the smoke descending from your plate making you nauseous, head swirling in discomfort.

There was a knock at the door at that moment but the bile rising into your throat was far more important than whoever was outside waiting.

Rushing to the closest thing you could find, you depleted the contents of dinner from last night into the porcelain sink, retching and hacking while trying to find a moment to breath.

The knocking continued obnoxiously, the loud sound not at all helping the building headache that was slowly turning into a migraine.

“Give me a moment!” Wiping at your chin, you turned the faucet on to flush the vile contents down the drain.

Rolling your eyes, you opened the door without a hint of a kindness on your face, to your surprise it was Lizzie standing there with her arms folded, matching your facial expression.

“Well you look like shit.” She pushed past you, not waiting for an invite and noting whose shirt you were wearing.

“Where’s Tommy? That shirt doesn’t quite fit you does it?” Closing the door you groaned, not having the mental capacity or patience to deal with her at this very moment, much like many other times.

Can the woman not take a hint that her and Polly’s plan was going nowhere.

“He’s at work. Don’t you have somewhere to be?” She raised an annoyed brow at you, but you weren’t phased by her poor portrayal of dominance.

“I suppose he doesn’t know yet then but we moved the wedding forward to next week.” What in the hell was she talking about? Confusion and anxiety settled in, worsening the pain in your head which seemed to bring Lizzie a tremendous amount of joy as she noticed your discomfort. The truth of the fact was that she wanted Tommy all for herself, she has for a long time but she was never going to have him the way you did, never again.

“He’ll never let James marry me especially against my will. Were you not present for the conversation yesterday? Or were you too busy lusting over someone who could care less about you.” Her jaw clenched at your snarky response, muttering something under her breath before leaving out the door in a fierce fury.

Smirking to yourself, you went upstairs drawing a hot bath with bubbles, attempting to ease your aching body and settle your stomach. When that didn’t seem to work you resorted into snooping through Tommy’s desk drawers in search of a pain reliever or something but there was nothing. He always did have good hiding spot for his stashes. Going into Ada’s room you found a bottle of motrin, surely she’d understand being a woman herself.

Wandering back into Tommy’s room, you rested your head on the pillow, curling up into a small ball in hopes of going to sleep.

It wasn’t long until the medicine kicked in and you drifted off into sleep.

A few hours later Tommy pulled into the driveway, retrieving his suitcase from the passenger seat eager to see his little princess. Having to distance himself was extremely difficult, he found himself constantly worrying about if you were alright or not. Ascending the stairs, Tommy opened his door excitedly onto to find you laying in bed with a bucket on the floor beside you. Your face was sweaty, a bit warm when his palm lay delicately on your temple. Concern immediately consumed him. 

“Have you fallen ill my love? What’s going on?” Still in his suit he crawled in the bed beside you, arms cradling your feeble body protectively.

“I don’t feel well. I’ve been throwing up all morning and just having constant tummy aches.” Tommy gave you a look of pity and concern. It wasn’t often you had gotten sick, it was quite rare and when you were it was bad. 

Turning around, you nuzzled your temple into the crook of his neck, hands grasping at the fabric of his jacket in desperate search of comfort-ability.

“Missed you…Lizzie came today. She said the wedding is next week.” You felt Tommy tense around you. What did he have to do to make her and James understand that his word was law? 

Surely Pol was in on it, she seemed to always step her foot in a place it didn’t belong. 

“I can assure you, no one will be marrying my princess and if they want to test to see if I’m bluffing, the outcome will be tumultuously heinous. Now don’t worry that little head. I’m home now love, let’s rest.”

As days passed Tommy noticed you were still throwing up, still needing to be in darkness as the sunlight pained your aching head. He was worried more when you mentioned how going to the bathroom seemed to he an issue now, specifically number two. You were embarrassed to tell him but didn’t trust anyone else in the house to say.

Tommy knew the signs, he wasn’t an idiot. Currently he was pacing in the hallway outside the bedroom trying to figure out a way to tell you. He himself was overjoyed but he can just imagine how frightened you’d be. 

“Thomas!” Poll screamed after him from downstairs. Rolling his eyes he descended down the dwindling steps, frustration vibrant in his voice.

“Will you keep your voice down. She’s sleeping, that’s the best thing for her right now.” She scoffed in response, demanding that they go to his office then to which he begrudgingly obliged.

Tommy closed the door quietly while Pol lot a cigarette, helping herself to the table of liquor in the corner of the room.

“What did you do with him!”

Tommy simply smirked, taking a seat behind his desk and settling his feet on the wooden surface non-chalantly before lighting his own cigarette.

“And who might that be Pol?” Her hands swiped away the belongings on the desk, papers and pens scattering onto the hardwood floor, yet he remained unphased by her angered outburst.

“You know damn well who!” Raising his eyebrows in frustration, he stood up from his seat, pointing directly in your aunt’s face.

“I told you that you wouldn’t like the consequences if you went to war with me. When will you learn that Y/N is better off without him. Michael will remain safe where he is as long as you keep your meddling nose out of our relationship.”

“It’s not a relationship Thomas she is your fucking sister! We had an agreement I-“ Tommy raised his finger, cutter her off abruptly.

“No. No. Our agreement didn’t include this joke of an arranged marriage. Tell me, when are you going to start caring about what she wants? Don’t think about me, think about your niece for once eh? She has feelings to consider too y’know. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go tend to my ill girl.” Pol stepped in front of him in an effort to block him from moving, causing him to merely laugh menacingly.

“You don’t want to do that. Maybe you should think about that bastard of child of yours as well. Who knows if you’ll ever see him again.” He shoved past her as she stood there in disbelief. How was she the bad guy for wanting to put a stop to this? For wanting to do the right thing? She screamed out in aggravation.

“If you harm a fucking hair on his head I will take your fucking heart out myself, you hear me?!” He ignored her, walking back toward your room more concerned about you, stressing over what he believed to be true.

When he walked in you were already sat up, hugging your pillow tightly, unliking the conflict of the situation. Tommy pursed his lip, apologetic for the yelling waking you up from your need slumber.

Taking a seat beside you, he leaned in toward your touch. His thumbs moving in a circular motion. He only did that when he was in deep thought?

“Is everything okay Tommy?” He looked down at your bucket, noticing the layer of new contents and how your eyes still appeared tired though you’ve been resting all day.

Placing an endearing kiss to your temple, he settled you in his lap, wiping a strand of hair behind your ear as his eyes searched for a hint that maybe you had come to the conclusion, yet you appeared just worried and confused.

Adding up how long it has been in his head, the math seemed definitive.

“My love, you might very well be pregnant.”

[wooahaes]

up in smoke

pairing: non-idol!vernon x fem!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship au.

warnings: food. burnt food. vernon is trying his best.

word count: ~1.1k

daisy's notes: ive said this before but he is simply sooo <3

Vernon remembered when he went bungee-jumping with his friends years ago, before he ever met you. They had done rounds of rock, paper, scissors on the bus ride there, and he had ended up losing, which meant he had to go first. He remembered how it felt to get on the edge, the worker walking him through it while his stomach was twisting itself into knots. Bend his knees, hold his arms out as he falls, and enjoy the thrill. If he wanted to be poetic, he could say that falling in love felt a lot like that: a blind jump toward a joy he could see in you. Both had been worth it. He’d gained a sick video of him bungee jumping, courtesy of his friends, and the leap into love had given him a relationship he felt so entirely safe in.

Baking cupcakes should not be harder than bungee jumping. Why the fuck was this harder than bungee jumping?

He coughed as he opened up the oven for the second time today, smoking plumbing out of it and setting off the alarm. Shit. Fuck. This shouldn’t be this hard. He ripped the cupcake tray out of the oven, tossing it onto the smooth stovetop before cracking a window and then going for the alarm. With the apartment silent, he let out a heavy sigh before leaning against the counter again. Vanilla cupcakes had no right being this hard to bake. Why was baking harder than normal cooking? He’d learned normal cooking! But every time he swore the batter tasted okay when he did a tiny taste test, something went wrong with the actual baking half of things. The picture on his laptop was taunting him now, all perfectly baked with perfectly placed buttercream on top of it… 

He let out a sigh, shutting his eyes. Okay. He could work with this. As much as he hated to admit it, maybe it was a good thing that you were stuck at work today. Originally, it was a good way for him to surprise you with cupcakes. He pulled at the loose bow tying his apron around him, throwing it onto the counter before heading straight to the bedroom to strip off his shirt and change into something that he didn’t accidentally get flour on. 

Fine. He couldn’t bake you cupcakes. That didn’t mean shit when he had a car and money and the ability to just go buy the damn things. Easy solution.

He picked out yours and his favorite flavors for the larger box… Only to check his phone and see where you had texted him three times in a row. Oh shit.

baby???

what did you burn????? 

omg wait are you okay??? did you burn yourself??? i tried calling seungkwan and he didn’t know where you were 😭

Shit. Not what he meant to happen on your birthday. He dropped a tip into the tip jar, thanking the worker as he took off back to his car. When did you get off early? Shit, he thought he’d know—but you never mentioned anything today. He fought the urge to drive a little over the speed limit to get home to you, just shooting off one quick text to say ‘omw’ as he hoped that would calm your fears. The moment he parked, he took off running as fast he could without damaging the cupcakes to get back into the building. It was a weird half-jog that would definitely earn him some strange looks, but it was far from the first time he’d done something foolish while thinking of you. The elevator swiftly brought him up to his floor, and he rushed to get back into the apartment. 

And there you were, dumping out the burnt cupcakes as you tried to deal with the still-lingering burnt smell in the apartment. When you looked up, relief flooded your eyes as you saw him.

“Oh my god, Vernon, I was terrified you’d burnt yourself—” You rushed over to him, only to stop short as he held up a pastel pink box of cupcakes. “... What did you—”

“I wanted to bake you those funfetti cupcakes you were talking about,” he said. “But, uh… You can probably figure out what happened.” 

You took the box from him, only to immediately set it aside in favor of kissing him. He’d stiffened up in surprise, but relaxed a moment later as his hands fell to your hips. When you drew away, you just gave him a shy smile.

“I was worried,” you said. “I thought you’d hurt yourself.” You brushed his hair back from his eyes, frowning at him a little. “But… You were gonna bake me cupcakes?”

“I tried,” he admitted. “But, uh… I think baking was a little ambitious.” He drew you closer, body pressing against yours. “The first time, the oven was too hot, aaand the second time I took ‘em out too early… and then put them back in for too long.”

With a pout, you squished his cheeks. “You’re so sweet. You didn’t have to do any of that.” 

He drew your hands away from his face, letting them drop onto his shoulders. “You literally made me a cake this year, babe. I wanted to do something nice.” He nodded toward the box you set aside. “I just got us a half dozen. Didn’t get to pick up candles since you came home early.”

With a giggle, you pressed a clumsy kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Guilty,” you said before drawing away from him. You picked up the box of cupcakes and started to make your way over to the dinner table. “I was only working a half day today. I tried to get the full day, but I kinda had a major meeting this morning, so…”

Vernon followed you into the apartment soon enough, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you in. “It’s all good,” he said. “You wanna go out, or—”

“God, no.” You turned around to face him. “I’m going out with friends this weekend instead. I just thought,” you draped your arms around his neck, “we could have a nice night in. Movies, dinner…” You looked at the box behind you. “And dessert.”

He nuzzled his nose against your cheek, pressing a soft kiss against it a moment later. “Sounds like a plan,” he said, squeezing you once. “Happy birthday, baby.” 

taglist: @twancingyunhao@synthetickitsune@wonuziex@porridgesblog@staranghae @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

[vampiretendencies]

a visceral feeling, that i can never leave behind

summary; jj crossed his heart, hoped to die that he wouldn’t get in another dust up; now he’s suffering.

authors notes; getting back into the groove of writing full length fics, still doing blurbs. but if you have a request either way, requests are open.

pairing; jj maybank x pogue!fem!reader (reader is almost always a pogue, unless i specify other wise)

warnings; angst to fluff, maybe suggestive if you take it that way

It was unusual to not hear from JJ.

Whether it be sullen facetime calls, hundreds of affectionate text messages, or not being able to pry your hands off of one another in person.

It was just unusual.

Which is why you are silently cursing yourself, sat parked outside the Chateau. The Twinkie was gone, but that in more ways than one didn’t mean JJ wasn’t in his bedroom.

Maybe John B took it out on an errand.

Maybe John B, Pope, and Kie went out on the marsh.

The possibilities were endless— but JJ never was the type to miss out on a Pogue expedition. Nor was he the type to not tell you about it; hell he’d update you if he was doing a task, as simple as smoking a blunt.

Glancing down at the blue and grey text chain, a photo of JJ kissing the bone of your jaw ever so slightly adorned the top, a helpless dimple poking through— but, you couldn’t understand why most of it was blue. Why were they so many texts from only you?

J <3

JB did a lil fire tonight

Got mosquito bites in places I shouldn't have mosquito bites

Need you to help me scratch them :(

I'm being serious

Goodnight baby, wish I was sleeping with you

Those were the last few texts you'd received from JJ, after you'd worked a late shift at the wreck and he'd known you fell asleep. JJ also knew today was your late shift, typically he'd be at the front door of your home; parents ready to boot him out from how much he continuously rambled on about you. You even tried calling Kie, Pope, and John B numerous times with no response.

Yeah, something was definitely fucking wrong.

With a slam of your car door the leaves from the tree above crunch beneath your feet, adjusting your cropped tee so it didn't fall too low. Rays of the sun beaming thoroughly on the skin of your legs and the exposure of your back, making your way towards the screen door of the Chateau. Screen pulled back and worn out, the wood chipped and chewed but this wouldn't be the Chateau if it wasn't. Past the porch you step foot inside, pushing aside beer cans with your shoe clad foot; empty cereal boxes, stale three-day old pizza, open sodas. Anything that you could imagine that was on the hard wood floor, it was.

But what you couldn't find was answers.

"JJ!"

You called, knowing full well there wouldn't be a response as he isn't visibly here. But it's JJ, he could be fucking around.

"Baby!"

You tried the pet name in hopes that it would work, but as you enter his room and see an unmade bed with miscellaneous clothes thrown on it your thoughts grew thin. You huffed limp body falling back onto the solid twin matress.

Instantly flying upward upon hearing familiar voices and footsteps, one familiar voice in particular.

Questions seeming to be answered all at once.

Seeming.

"Did you see that headlock John B had him in?"

"Easy access! Took one hit and I swear I heard his jaw crack!"

It was, in fact JJ.

Doing that thing that he does after the Pogues think they've accomplished something big, yet they always fail to see the bigger picture.

Heat of the moment or adrenaline, you assumed.

"His face was so fucked up!"

"He's had it coming for a long time."

You confirmed it was John B's voice with Kies toward the end. Now the issue was, who the hell did they have to get into a fight with this time?

Though you may not know, you'd make certain to find out.

Creeping around the corner, you make your presence known at the entrance of the living room where they all stood. Appearing as if they's seen a ghost.

Not only did they not have the decency to include you or fill you in, but JJ's fist is coated in blood. Disheveled and mulled, like they'd been ran over by the same bus various times. Kie's curls fanned outwardly, John B with a busted lip, Pope with a black eye, and JJ with a welp against his cheek bone; a gushing cut seeping through.

Your voice grows horse, mouth running dry; fathomed by your supposed friends in front of you.

What were you? A sick joke?

"Look ... we can explain, JJ told us not to tell you and we-"

Kie offered, guilt eating away at her portraying a bad habit.

"Just don't."

"Shouldn't someone like ... be mediator this time, she might actually kill him."

Pope chimes in and it makes your stomach churn because he was partially true.

You brush past them, aiming for your car and of course JJ's steps behind you. Echoing your every move, fingertips knotting around your wrist in an effort for you to turn around and face him. Unexpectedly, your back met with the warm glass window of your car. His fists at the hood, arms hovering near the sides of your head. Tresses combed backward from his digits, out of fear that this situation right here would happen.

There were certain confrontations JJ appreciated and certain one's he didn't.

He had no problem with pummeling someone unrecognizable for the sake of his friends, which spells out the entirety of this.

The confrontations he hated though was this one, the one where he can't even look you in the eye. He invariably lost his tongue in a fight with you, his past making him think that every fight could result in you abandoning him and never coming back. For the long run.

"You should go get that looked at," you spat, biting back so harshly. Peering at a slash that would take weeks to scab over.

"Just stay okay? This doesn't have to be a fight."

His speech is low and he's looking everywhere but at you until you shoved him- hands connecting with his chest in an effort to get his attention and for him to stop caging you in.

Exasperated that he couldn't just tell you, that he couldn't just talk to you about it.

Animosity that he would dare get his precious face damaged in such as way.

Irate and bitter that his somehow get himself in this overwhelming imperilment.

A menace before you.

"It does JJ! We're lying to each other now? This is what we do?!"

It was a show, a show that people would stream on television for their on laughter and enjoyment.

But this was the sheerness of a susceptible couple, glass nearly empty.

Time bellowing out.

"I had to baby!"

Not to be dramatic but JJ's heart had been stitched together once, when you entered his life.

And that's why he tried his utmost to prevent any interference in this relationship.

Because now he swears, he can physically feel a stitch rip open with every remark you make.

"We tell each other everything JJ!"

"And I didn't tell you 'cause, I knew this is how you'd react!"

He stands still with a clenched jaw; tight enough for teeth to grind, hand gesturing at your current 'pissed off' stance—notrils flaring and mouth agape.

And he thinks this actual smoke fuming out of your ears.

Silence fell over the two of you, stood so desperately apart in the misty front yard of the Chateau.

"It was Rafe," He rasped through monotone. "We had to take this round while we could-"

"So fucking stupid, you know he's coming back for ya'll!" You still speak sharply, infuriated past envy. "M'the one treated like shit, just for you to get one up on Rafe Cameron ... of all people JJ!"

"I know, baby! I know-"

He reached for your arms, in ordinace to hold them close, but he failed whilst you inched to the car door.

What's upsetting is, after the fight and pirior to it- JJ craved to breathe in your oxygen and get lost inside your lungs.

"I dont care if it's a decision I won't like, it's still something I deserve to know," and now your voice is just growing weary. "You do such dumb shit and m'expected not to say anything."

All JJ could do was ache.

Ache with regret.

And ache with longing at the feeling of you not wanting to be near him.

He hadn't even gotten a kiss today, for Christ's sake.

"You said you wanted all of me JJ, I gave you that. Why aren't you doing the same..."

Your figure folds, stepping low into the car, JJ running forward bloody fist pounding on the glass window. Praying to God, that you'd give in just this once and hear him out.

"I am! I fuck up one time and you're there to make sure I don't hear the end of it!'

He's finding his voice, a minute two late as his takes note of gear switching and the vehicle moving backward to leave.

"Get out! Don't go ... please don't baby!"

“Baby!”

He trails behind the moving car, as if running would make a difference.

But you wouldn't be there this time.

The last altercation he got into, you were on the other end to clean his bruises and linger kisses onto his cuts; yet, there was also an agreeance that he wouldn't be caught up in another scrutinizing fight.

You validated yourself in thinking you had the right to your reaction.

And JJ validated himself in thinking he was right in not telling you, your words engraving in his brain like clockwork; agatizing that he saw reason.

Nearly a chore for him to listen— heardheaded beyond belief.

Ravaging in the come down.

Always finding the beat, now they can't find the rush.

All filaments of emotion turned to dust.

“You can stop shitting your pants now, she’s already seen us.”

John B’s banter is not one that makes JJ’s tongue stop clicking, nor does it make his leg stop bouncing up and down out of horrid anxiousness.

He’s forced John b to take him to your home, only to be dismissed in your family saying you weren���t around.

You were, you just couldn’t stand to see JJ.

Fed up with his antics and his constant need to put himself in a position of hazardous instability.

Allowing him to resort to plan ‘work invasion’— the one place he knew you couldn’t escape him.

Despite how he typically acts, JJ has precise memory when it comes to you. He still has the little crumpled piece of paper you gave him in first grade— folded neatly inside his wallet, being besotted with you for that long.

‘I like your hiar — signed Y/N’

He picked fun at the way you spelled hair, though he took pride in his hair since then. And no matter how much he misplaced things, he endlessly found his was back to that note.

Resembling you, evermore.

With that being said, remembering your work schedule was something of ease to him.

You did glance at them stepping foot into the eating establishment, sat at a table on the far side— also know as your serving section.

Ultimately, you didn’t want to argue any longer with JJ; you didn’t want to argue to begin with. You bargained with him to learn— to learn that he can’t always have his way.

Especially when he’s teasing you so, showing up during your shift, and wearing that stupid fucking navy blue button up shirt besides the fact that it was, unbuttoned. Chest on display, muscular and built.

You felt the dagger of his eyes on your back whilst you served the table that was ahead of them, still feet away. Unable to concentrate on the order, eaves dropping on their conversation.

“Ma’am, are you listening?”

“Sorry … sorry what was that?”

Your saccharine voice apologizing to the woman and her small child, JJ chews the inside of his mouth. He despised going longer than a millisecond without hearing that sweet, sweet sound, laced with the inticement of veneration.

Accidentally fumbling the pen and note pad in your hand, rubbing your sweating palms onto your greasy black half-apron.

“Just two milkshakes.”

The woman was quick to repeat, voice more stern at you for not getting it right the first time.

But JJ was going to win you over, wether that be clogging every toilet in the stalls to announce to everyone that there was a plumping problem— isolating only you and him.

Though, he had something else in mind. Maybe not we’ll thought out to most, but it was the quickest and most efficient way he new of to win you back over on his side.

You slide your feet against the tiled floor, anticipating serving the group of Pogues. Instead you plaster on as fake as smile, and interrupt their witty banter by clearing your throat.

“What can I get ya’ll today? Our special today is a main dish of lying with backstabbing on the side.”

You were being bitter and you knew it, purposefully standing on the side of the table that JJ wasn’t on. But still the dining chair screeched on the floor, in an effort to move closer.

“Look we actually love you a lot more than JJ, if we’re being honest,” Pope conquered, and Kie and John B shook their heads in eagerness, willing to mask the tension in the air. “He convinced us to leave you out of it and we didn’t want to get in the middle of anything.”

“You don’t have to justify anything JJ did Pope, he chose to break our promise and that’s on him.”

You sneered, eyes rolling harshly at the blonde that’s twirling his thumbs— peering up at you with a deathly smirk on his features.

“That was a one time thing, Rafe deserved it baby, you know he did.”

“Baby, you know he did.”

John B mocked JJ, warning a kick from JJ’s combat boot beneath the table with a scoff.

“Did you guys hear something … like this irritating buzzing sound of some bastard talking?”

That earned a hissing sound from John B, the actual remnants of what JJ felt from that comment.

“Are y’all ordering or what? I have other tables to serve.”

You conquer, JJ’s at the edge of seat, tapping his foot. His sense being filled with that of burgers, shrimp and grits, anything he could utter but he didn’t have an appetite.

No, not when the only thing he had a hankering for was currently in front of him.

Back straightened and stood tall, typically a stance he’d drool over but he can’t get past the weeping sensation— dire need to never be at odds.

To simply just be.

For you to be his, and him be yours.

All over again.

“I was hoping you were on the menu.”

Courage emphasizing his words, eyeing you up and down— nearly eyefucking. Seeing now as his opportunity to go in for the kill.

“Okay, you know what-“

You’re spinning on your heels, in a notion to walk away— refusing service.

Until.

“JJ! Get down, my parents are never gonna’ let us back in here!”

But, he didn’t give a fuck.

A sickly pit in your stomach causes you to turn around, to be met with a JJ stood bright eyed— a disfigured expression and sunken shoulders hanging low.

Standing atop the table, head closer to the ceiling than it ever was before. Loud and proud, whilst his hands clapped, cupping together for a infamous effect.

Your face burns with prim red scrutiny, horror covering your face— just powerful moments ago.

Insides scrambling to nothing, a stupid toothy grin plastered across his features.

Wreckless, per usual, consequences of no variation to him.

He’s irrevocably standing on top of a restaurant table with only lovingly sullen eyes.

“This woman right here,” He gestures his arms toward you, all bodies turning toward you— wanting to cower in shame but oddly enough you were enticed and lead by infatuation.

Pope and John B, just let JJ do his thing— either way he was going to do what he pleased.

Crowds of familiar faces, family, a friends— some with mouths wide open in awe, some making snarky remarks, and some wishing like hell that it was them.

“She’s gonna’ have my babies,” He started a small chuckle escaping his lungs. Announcing to the entirety of the restaurant, giving them entertainment; despite the promise he broke to not get himself hurt again.

This though. This was promising, and convincing and everything in between.

Salvaged with being allergic to the waiting.

Waiting for you to come around.

You’re in the room, you earn his gaze.

You open your mouth, he’s hypnotized.

Starstruck.

“And m’gonna have those lips on mine for however long she lets me … forever I hope.”

He beamed, Kie’s father’s disgruntled face entering the room, waving at JJ to get down.

A sinister grin still on his features.

“And ya’ll will pass by us in disgust, that you can’t be us. That you can’t have our love.”

You’d hoped someone was behind you because you were about to collapse.

“This enough of an apology for you, pretty girl?”

He echoes, bits of his accent flowing through the sentence.

You managed to fight the smile on your features.

Let’s just say JJ proclaiming his love infront of nearly thirty people didn’t come close to his usual public displays of affection.

“Get your ass down!” Kie’s father, Mike, stammered, and JJ willingly jumped down from the table, being that he wasn’t finished.

And he knows by the smile lines next to your mouth— that this argument is officially past tense.

And he knows that tonight he’s going to relish in all the delicacies that you have to offer him.

“I mean it was alright,” you joke, picking fun to pass your inkling of embarrassment.

Knowing that it topped any apology you’ve received.

JJ glides over to you, hands wholeheartedly cupping your face, thumbs nestling you chin. Like the two of you were on a stage and this was a live performance.

You hold his heart in your hands internally, JJ is merely thankful to be alive during this lifetime with you.

Appreciating your existence and the relationship the two of you founded, together.

He places a wet, sloppy kiss to your lips, pecking them repeatedly. Delving them together, molding with perfection and engulfing yours with his.

Exhilarated to have the opportunity to graze mouths with yours.

“Don’t ever make me chase you again.”

But, he knows he’d do it all over.

Standing hand in hand, with lovelorn souls.

Knowing that he’d redo it without hesitation.