#I'm worried I might be going too quick with the story?

[stormysunday9]

I've been editing this for too long now and I just need to put it out into the world. The ending doesn't feel quite right...but maybe that's because this story just isn't done yet!

Featuring: happy Joe, some 18+ stuff, and a bit of cheese.

The Missing Piece

I was now five blocks from work and the man who had  stepped out behind me after I locked the door was still following closely behind me.

I started to panic, I was at least another ten blocks from home. It was starting to get dark. I was 5'5 and all I had to protect me was my lunch bag and the yogurt I didn't eat. My heart was pounding. I didn't need to turn around to see him, I could sense him there.

This was a pretty affluent neighbourhood, maybe I could just pretend I lived here. I walked past a couple more homes, then started the journey up one of the long driveways, not daring to look behind me. When I reached the front door, I pretended to unlock it, hoping I'd sold my story to my creepy shadow. When I twisted the knob, the door opened easily, and since I was no longer thinking clearly I just stepped inside.

After a moment of relief from being off the street and into safety, I looked up to see a very tall man standing in front of me with a look of both shock and concern fleeting over his icy blue eyes.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so so sorry! There was a man, I don't know, he's been following me since I left work! I still have so far to go, I was getting scared, I didn't know what to do, your door was unlocked, I didn't mean to come in...." I was still tripping over my words as the man placed his hands on my shoulders and tried to meet my wild eyes .

"Hey, hey." He said firmly but calmly. "It's ok, you're ok. I know, I saw him on the camera, he was following you up the drive. Do you want me to call the police?"

"No, I don't think so. I don't know. I didn't even get a good look at him." I replied. "Do you mind if I sit down?" I asked embarrassingly, the adrenaline was fading and I felt like I might fall over.

"Yes of course", he ushered me to the couch, "and my security camera, I have a clear shot of him on there."

"Oh smart. Ya I can get an image from there then, I'll file a report tomorrow. I'm so sorry for all this." My head was finally starting to stop spinning and my heart slowing down, allowing me to take in my surroundings a bit more clearly. This was a very nice house. Very clean. No clutter. I looked over my shoulder to see him coming back from the kitchen.

He carefully sat down near me on the couch, being sure to leave a full cushion's worth of space between us. He handed me a glass of water and said, "I'm Joe, by the way."

"Hi Joe", I responded, and took a quick drink of water before adding, "you should really lock your doors."

He let out a chuckle and a grin spread across his face. "Well, in this particular instance, I'm kind of glad I didn't. My manager was supposed to be stopping by, so I left it open."

"Oh my gosh, let me get out of your hair then. I don't want to get you in trouble with work! I just need to call an Uber." I started searching my bag for my phone.

"I would like to drive you home if that's ok. Not sure how many more strange men you should add to this day." He raised an eyebrow at me, presumably waiting to see if I was going to laugh or start crying.

I laughed. "That's very kind, but what about your manager?"

"Don't worry about that, my job is pretty secure," he smiled, "let me grab my keys and my shoes."

I noticed he was wearing slippers currently, slippers which I could only describe as old man slippers. He did seem to have an old soul aura about him. I followed Joe out to his garage, that housed multiple vehicles - a very flashy sports car, a futuristic looking truck, and a Mercedes G Wagon. And it looked like we were taking the latter. He must be some kind of tech mogul, I thought to myself, but what's a tech mogul doing in the middle of Ohio?

When we reached my house, which was about an eighth the size of his, I turned to look at him. I couldn't help but think how warm those cold blue eyes looked. 

"Thank you so much, seriously." I said. "You're a real hero."

He chuckled. "Would I be able to give you my number?" He asked.

My wide eyed expression must have given away what I was trying to keep my mouth from saying because Joe immediately spoke up.

"Not like that!" He backtracked shaking his head, "just in case you need more security footage, or a witness statement of something. Or anything at all really. I'm usually around. Except Sundays. I work Sundays." 

I handed him my phone and he quickly typed his number in and handed it back to me. 

"I'm Casey, by the way" I said as I stepped out of his truck. 

"Hi Casey," he smiled.

"Lock your door, Joe!" I yelled over my shoulder as I walked to my front door.

I saw him give me a hand to forehead salute through the passenger window. I walked inside, locked my own door, and peeked out the window, just in time to see him pull away.

---------------

The next couple days were less eventful. I had security cameras installed at the shop. I filed my police report at the station. And I ordered some bear spray from Amazon. I was glad when the weekend finally rolled around, and on Sunday headed over to my friend Jess' house for our weekend supper tradition. Jess and her husband always hosted, and our other friend Kate and her boyfriend joined, and then me, the obligatory fifth wheel. The boys usually watched football and us girls caught up on gossip and played board games.

The girls and I were playing a very distracted round of Uno while the boys yelled at the game on the TV. I casually glanced over at the TV after being served multiple miss a turns in a row, and what I saw put my heart in my stomach. 

Unforgettable icy blue eyes.

"Ummm, who is that, Trevor?" I anxiously asked Jess' husband.

"Joe Burrow.", Trevor replied.

"I can read the screen, Trev, I mean who IS he?"

"The quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals. And you're a disappointment to the whole state of Ohio for not knowing that."

"Harsh, but ok...and like, he's pretty good? Or what?"

Trevor rolled his eyes and turned to look at me, "ya he's like top three in the league, easy. Why, Case? You finally gonna become a football fan?"

I excused myself from the Uno game that I was never going to win anyway and grabbed my phone from my bag. I searched my contacts. J...O...E...

Joe with the Unlocked Doors.

There he was. And with a sense of humor at that. I opened the contact and began to type.

Wow. Your overconfident sense of job security makes so much sense now!

Presumably he wouldn't be texting back anytime soon. Based on the tv screen he appeared to be rather busy at the moment. 

Later that evening I was laying on the couch, working on a bracelet I was making and watching Netflix when my phone lit up.

Shocked Pikachu gif. (Classic choice.) So you're not a football fan then?

I just don't know anything about it. But today I learned Joe Burrow is the quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals. And that sometimes he leaves his doors unlocked. 🤷‍♀️

Ha! Both of those are true. I'm glad you texted.

It was a shock response.

I'm glad anyway. So now you know what I do, what do you do? Aside from walk into strangers houses, of course.

Cold.

I'm actually a dog groomer. I make pups pretty for a living. I have a little shop on Hudson, which is where I was walking from when I broke into your home.

That's unexpected, and so cool. Love that you've got your own grind. 

Well my grind doesn't garner me multiple vehicles in my garage, but I do love it. It only affords me my old Bronco that starts half the time, and not at all in the winter.

Is that why you walk?

Sometimes. But I do like being outside. And "that day" I chose to walk. Looking back, evidently a poor choice.

Maybe not all bad since you met me?

Haha, I dunno, I got to meet the quarterback of an NFL team and didn't even ask for an autograph! 🫤

Funny. Maybe don't think of me as that, just think of me as Joe.

...with the unlocked doors! 

Exactly. 😉

We continued to message back and forth, joking and laughing while also learning a bit about one another, when I looked at the time on my phone and couldn't believe how late it had gotten.

I think I better get some shut eye. Early start tomorrow. Nice chatting with you. Goodnight, Joe!

Goodnight, Casey. Sweet dreams.

It took me a while to fall asleep that night. What is happening? He's so nice. And absolutely gorgeous. Now that I could think about him a little more clearly and not in a fear filled state of adrenaline...wow. He had to be a full foot taller than me, with what appeared to be the strength of a Greek god, and the fluffiest, wavy hair that was just being begged to have hands run through it. And a little curl that kept falling onto his forehead no matter how many times he pushed it back. And those eyes...oh my gosh those eyes. 

Pull yourself together, Casey! I scolded myself. I was being ridiculous. And I needed some sleep, it was back to my not so lucrative grind tomorrow.

----------------

Monday morning I was back in my element. The Bronco started, my first dogs of the day were settled on the floor around me, my coffee was just right. Maybe it would be a good week. With my headphones on, and high velocity dryer blasting, I almost didn't hear someone walk through the door. I looked up, startled so see a man with a hoodie pulled over his head and wrap around sunglasses on his face. He must have seen the fear in my eyes as he immediately reached up to push the hood off his head and replace it with his sunglasses.

Joe.

I felt my face flush. I turned off the dryer and put my headphones around my neck.

"What on earth..." Was all I could get out.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just figured that you saw what I do, so I wanted to see what you do...I hope that's ok." I could see a worried look in his eyes.

"How did you find me?" I probably should have reassured those baby blues, but I was still so confused.

"Well you told me your shop was on Hudson. And there was a dog groomer on Hudson called Casey's Place.....so I guess I'm a detective?" He was still feeling out if he'd made a mistake.

I laughed. "That's fair I guess. You googled me?!"

He let out a chuckle. Those seemed difficult to evoke from him, but I felt like I could make it my full time job just to hear the sound and watch the corners of his eyes crinkle.

"You haven't googled me?" He asked with mock accusation.

"Actually, no," I admitted, "I think I'd prefer to learn about you from you."

He smiled, "well I guess we've determined who's the better person then!"

He suddenly sat on the floor cross legged, and the three dogs already on the floor immediately ran to him and began climbing and licking him maniacally.

Jealous, I thought. But only said, "well that's a good sign."

"What is?," he asked while trying to avoid getting dog tongue directly in his mouth.

"Never trust someone your dog doesn't trust! And they seem to love you."

This time he blushed.

I lifted the dog on the table down to the floor so he could join the fun. 

Joe tried to untangle himself from the dog pile and stand back up. "I was wondering if I could take you to lunch?" he asked, barely making eye contact.

Wow, is he...nervous? I wanted to say yes so bad, but I was the only one in the shop today, and I couldn't leave the dogs unattended. 

"Could I take a rain check?" I asked, hoping my eyes didn't look as desperate as I felt.

"Of course," he replied, "I knew you were working, I'm sorry."

I gave him a little pout, and the corners of his mouth turned up. 

"I'll talk to you soon!" He said and quickly turned and walked out the door.

My heart sank. Did I just turn down Joe Burrow on a date? But my job, I've worked so hard for this shop, and surely he gets that. I hoisted the dog back onto the table and got back to work, while my heart continued to chastise my brain for being too responsible. Then my phone chimed. I looked at my watch to see a message from Joe. I pulled out my phone to open it.

Do you like onions?

Well...I guess he still wants to get to know me? First what I do for a living, now my produce preferences?

I typed back, Yes with a question mark.

Message read, no response.

This man is an enigma. 

And then 10 minutes later my door dinged and in walked Joe with two greasy paper bags, a tray loaded down with drinks, and a smile that could light up the dark.

"You still have to eat, right?" He said with a shrug of his big, broad shoulders and began to spread out a selection of burgers and fries across the grooming table that wasn't currently in use.

"I got you a soda, a milkshake and a coffee because I don't know what you like yet." He explained 

Yet. Oh my gosh he was adorable. I melted, perhaps obviously.

I pulled up two stools, suddenly a little unsure if one would even support Joe's enormous size. He sat down and it looked almost comical.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized, unable to choke back my laughter, "I don't normally cater to football stars". 

He brushed it off, quickly. "All good, a lot of furniture is too small for me. Or I'm too big for it. Whichever."

He took a big bite of a burger while I grabbed a couple fries, unable to take my eyes off him, trying to understand what these last several days were coming to. My overthinking brain couldn't take it anymore, and I just spit out "Why me?"

Joe turned to me, looking straight into my eyes, with surprise. "What do you mean?", he seemed genuinely confused. 

I took a deep breath. "Well, like, you're you. You're obviously super attractive, you're a famous athlete, you're talented, smart, focused, funny, kind, charming... I'm sure you could have your pick of anyone in Ohio - no, in America. Maybe even Canada too. And then, I'm just me."

"You think I'm attractive?" He said, eyebrows raising, blue eyes mischievous.

I rolled my eyes.

"But seriously, Casey," he continued, "I'm intrigued by you. I love that you know who you are, and what you're about. You're beautiful, you're smart, you're focused. And honestly, I kind of liked that you didn't know who I was."

I could feel the flush of red flowing up my face, I've never been good at accepting compliments. Especially from this remarkable specimen of a man sitting so very close to me right now.

"I really don't think you're giving yourself enough credit", he continued, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the day I laid eyes on you. I wasn't going to push it, but when you texted me yesterday, I knew I didn't want to let you get away." 

He placed his large hand on my thigh, I think to comfort me because he could tell I was overwhelmed, but it had the opposite effect and made my heart beat 10 times faster.

"I like you too, Joe. I just don't know what this would look like. Dog groomer dates NFL superstar? I'm an introvert. Sometimes I get anxious if the grocery store is really busy."

Joe burst out laughing. "Maybe just don't overthink it, and we can see what happens?" He smiled, his eyes pleading with mine, feeling like they were reaching in and pulling directly on my heart. A smile started creeping across my face, despite my best efforts to convince myself there was just no way this was happening, and then Joe leaned in and planted his full, beautiful lips on mine, leaving absolutely no doubt that it really was. 

------------

The rest of the week was bliss. Late nights facetiming until we fell asleep, Joe stopping in with coffee for me at work (now that he knew that was my drink of choice). I was living for getting to know and understand him. I'd never known someone so focused, so loyal. He was incredibly intelligent, loved his family, he was thoughtful, awkward enough to allow me to believe he really was human, and so adorable when he tried to flirt. And probably most surprising, he was quite introverted too, preferring to keep a small circle, and still navigating the fame that he had now achieved. 

I also learned that the day before game day, as far as anyone in the world is concerned, Joe Burrow does not exist. He takes the day to focus, watch tape, and avoid distraction and chatter at all costs. He definitely takes his job seriously, but I get it, he loves what he does.

So Friday night he picked me up to go to his place for supper. He wanted to avoid a public outing, to avoid the media storm that was sure to follow. I thought that sounded like a great idea. He pulled up in his white G-Wagon around 7pm. 

I climbed up into the passenger side. 

"Did you lock your door?" He joked.

"Hilarious.", I replied, "why do you always drive this thing? Don't get me wrong, you look hot as hell behind the wheel, but I know you have a garage full of choices."

He blushed and tried to hide his smile. "Those were all phases I thought I was going through I guess. This thing is my favourite. And the least conspicuous". 

He put the vehicle in gear and reached across the console to hold my hand. It was a short drive to his house, despite us living in very different neighbourhoods. We walked into his house that already smelled like food as his cook was busy preparing game day prep-appropriate nutrition. We sat down on his oversized couch (he seemed to have purchased furniture more suited so his size), and he turned to look at me. He grabbed both my hands in his, making them all but disappear. 

"I have a question for you," he started.

Uh oh. Serious Joe was also unreadable Joe. 

"Oooook," I said nervously.

He squeezed my hands. 

"It's nothing bad, I was just wondering if you wanted to come to my game on Sunday. You don't have to sit in the suite, I can get you tickets for the stands. You can bring friends if you want. Whatever you want."

Oh boy. There is nothing I wanted more than to be there to support him, cheer him on, watch him do his thing, see him in those tight pants in person... But I wasn't sure I was ready for that kind of debut yet.

"Joe...."

He could sense my reservations immediately.

"It's ok," he reassured me, "I wanted you to have the invitation, I totally get it if we're...not there yet." He seemed genuine, but also a little sad. Damn those puppy dog eyes.

"It's not that, I just haven't really told anyone about us yet, I wasn't even sure there was anything to tell, and I barely understand the game, and if at any point you'd be there with me I'd be all for it, but I know that's not how game day works. I will be there, and soon....I think I just need a little more time." My eyes were pleading with him to understand. 

And of course he did. He wrapped me in a big hug. "I'm looking forward to that day, and it makes me unreasonably happy to hear you talk about the future, even if you're just talking three weeks from now." He was grinning like a fool. I was absolutely falling for this man.

"I have a proposition, perhaps a bit of a compromise. What if you come to my place after your game. I would really like to see you, especially if I have to be Joe-free tomorrow." I tried my best puppy dog eyes, and they seemed to work.

"I can do that," he agreed, "but if we don't win, I can't say how good of company I'll be".

"If we don't win?!" I mocked, "well that doesn't sound like Joe Burrow at all!"

He laughed. That was still my favourite. They didn't come easily, but I would spend my last day trying just to hear that beautiful sound. 

----------

Sunday afternoon I plopped down on the couch with a coffee, a blanket, and my phone. I turned on the tv to the game. And suddenly felt very, very nervous. I wasn't sure what the superstitions were about talking to the players before the game, but I decided to send Joe a quick text. Knowing him, he doesn't even look at his phone prior to a game. 

Have fun today. We're the lucky ones, getting paid to do what we love ❤️

He replied with the kissing face emoji: 😘

Swoon.

I spent most of the game googling - offside, the pocket, roughing the passer, why are they punting, what is a punt.....this was gonna be a steep learning curve. I also spent part of the game covering my eyes when Joe was about to get hit. This was so intense. It was a hard fought game, but three hours later the Bengals finished with a loss by two points. Now I was even more nervous. I was about to meet After a Loss Joe. Knowing how seriously he takes his job, I knew losses must hit him pretty hard. 

45 minutes after the game ended, the G Wagon's headlights shone into my front window. Well, he still came over so that was a good sign.

I opened the door to him not standing as tall as he usually does, but he still wrapped me in a hug and gave me a kiss on the top of my head. 

"Hi", I said softly, meeting his eyes. "I'm proud of you, that was amazing to watch". 

He offered a small smile and walked across the room to collapse on the couch.

I walked to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of tea  and him a glass of water, then joined him in the front room. I set the cups on the table, and sat down on his lap, running my hand through his freshly washed hair. He wrapped his long arms around my waist and rested his head against my shoulder. I didn't say anything, just listened to him breathe, while I breathed in his fresh shower scent, and enjoyed how small I felt on his expansive lap, with his strong arms enveloping me. 

Eventually he swung his legs up onto the couch and scooted down so he was laying down, taking up the whole length of the couch. He moved me to the side so I was tucked in between his body and the back of the couch. I rested my head on his chest.

"I just hate letting the guys down," he finally spoke.

I didn't offer a response. I didn't think he was looking for one.

"I fumbled that snap, I don't even know how, but that was about to be a big play, and instead it was nothing."

I pushed myself up onto my elbow so I could see his face. He stared at me for a minute.

"Aren't you gonna say anything?" He asked.

"What could I possibly have to offer? I spent the whole game googling terminology and covering my eyes cuz I was scared you were gonna get hurt!" I admitted.

Unexpectedly, his face relaxed, and he laughed. 

"If it helps, I thought you looked great, I found the game really exciting, for what I understood, and I kinda hoped you were gonna show up here in your uniform still because wow, apparently I love a man I uniform." I said with a knowing look. 

"Is that so?" He asked, a smirk on his face

He sat back up, and scooped me back onto his lap, this time so I was straddling him and looking right into those beautiful eyes. He stared at me for what felt like forever before saying, "You're my missing piece." 

"Sorry?" I replied, confused.

"It's just, I have everything I ever could have wanted from life, and I couldn't figure out why I still wasn't where I wanted to be. This is the first time I've ever held onto a little hope after a loss, because I still had something to look forward to. I was excited to come here. It's you, Case. I was missing you. And now here you are. And I'm sorry to tell you, but now that I have you, i'm never gonna let you go." His face was so soft, relaxed, certain.

I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes. His sincerity made me emotional. I didn't risk speaking, as I knew my voice would give away how much I was feeling for him in that moment. Instead, I leaned into him and kissed him deeply. His tongue forced it's way into my mouth, playing tag with mine. I ran my hands through his hair like I'd been dreaming of doing all week. 

He slipped his hands under me and lifted us both off the couch in one swift movement. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, still kissing his mouth, his cheeks, his neck. 

He gently laid me down on my bed, and I shimmied my body up to my pillow. He climbed onto the bed on his hands and knees, hovering over me like a real Bengal tiger about to devour his prey. He started at my forehead and began working his way down, kissing every inch of me. He pulled down the shoulder of my shirt and planted soft, yet hungry kisses on my bare skin. He then pushed my shirt up, exposing my belly, kissing me more. I pulled the shirt over my head, exposing my bra. More kisses between the exposed parts of my breasts. Down to my belly button, where he began to unbutton my jeans. 

"You're so beautiful" be breathed out between kisses. 

"Hold on," I begged, and pulled his shirt over his head. I almost gasped, taking in every inch of his expansive, muscular torso. A bruise on his bicep, a scar on his belly, and the most phenomenal abs I'd ever seen. 

"You're ethereal." I panted.

"Your vocabulary is so sexy", he grinned, and continued planting kisses all over me. He pulled my jeans down and kissed his way back up my legs. When he made it to the warm, increasingly wet place between my legs, he sat up on his knees, taking in all of me. I should have felt self conscious, but instead I felt safe, even beautiful. I pulled him back into me and began sliding his track pants over his hips. He wasn't wearing underwear. His cock sprung out, erect and very large. I looked up at him, he was waiting for a response. I may have whimpered.

"Is this ok?" He asked.

"I can't think of anything I want more", I replied, perhaps a bit desperately.

He slid my panties down and let his fingers enter me. I couldn't have been any more wet, but the feel of his hard length rubbing against my thigh as he fingered me was making me feral. 

I put my hands on his shoulders, drawing his attention back to my face. "I want you," I panted, "all of you."

His face was flushed, and he smiled. He positioned himself back on top of me, and slowly pushed his hard cock into me. It slid in easily with how wet I was, and filled absolutely every bit of me. When he finally bottomed out, I gasped 

"Are you alright?" His face showed genuine concern. 

"Never been better," I reassured him. I wrapped my legs around him, taking in every inch, while he kissed my neck and thrusted into me, slowly, steadily. I was digging my nails into his back. He felt so good. I never wanted him to stop. He continue to place soft kisses down my neck, on my breasts, letting his tongue linger on my nipples. Despite how strong this man was, he couldn't have been more gentle and attentive. 

When his face was near mine again, I told him to roll over. Excitement flickered over his eyes, he smiled, and obeyed.

I straddled him and began grinding my hips against him. In this position, he went even deeper into me, I could feel him in my belly. I couldn't stop staring at him. The more I took in every perfect angle of his face and body, the quicker my body forced itself against him. My clit rubbing against his abdomen in my own slickness, I could feel myself reaching my climax.

"Are you close?" I breathed, holding onto him tightly.

"I'm ready when you are," he smiled.

I began rocking harder, faster, reaching around to cradle his heavy testicles, watching his face writhe in exquisite pleasure until I felt every nerve in me release while I pulled him in even deeper and tighter in the throes of orgasm. I felt him buck his hips into me while moaning in pleasure, savoring his own release. I collapsed onto his hard body, completely blissed out. 

He wrapped his arms around me, and whispered "wow..." Between ragged breaths. 

I rolled off of him and curled in beside him as tightly as possible. His arm around my back, mine draped over his perfect torso.

"After that, I won't be going anywhere either, just so you know." I told him while tracing small circles with my finger around his chest. 

"Nothing would make me happier," he smiled, and turned to kiss my cheek. 

I guess I better start figuring out how to be a little more comfortable in crowds....

----------

[simsdaughters]

.BEYOND THE VEIL.

CHPT 1. EP 4.

Naomi does some more research into Emet Galvus, and finds out some interesting beliefs people have about the elusive man. Finally receiving a reply from him in her online mail, she prepares to meet him for the interview, while Emet prepares to welcome her.

Transcript under cut:

Naomi: Let's see here ... "Emet Galvus".

Naomi: “Emet S. Galvus IV” … I don’t think I’ll find anything freaky about this guy on his simpedia page, and anyways, I already checked it. Might want to study it for later though… (*click*)

Naomi: “Emet S. Galvus IV is a businessman and CEO specialized in the manufacture and distribution of technological goods such as home security products.” … huh?

Naomi: “Rumors and speculations”…?

Naomi: “Emet Galvus has been the center of theories and rumors for the past few decades. These include the beliefs that he may be a member of an elite secret organization working with the government, a vampire lord - with the added rumor that the four Emets that came before him were all him, and other speculations in the same vein, such as him being an alien in human skin.” … Oh Helen, you are too easily scared. How did you ever enter the business course of Britechester with such a gullible mind …

Naomi: Speak of the devil … the old man finally replied, huh? A bit quick for such a supposedly busy man …

Email: [Ms. Grey,

Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I would not normally allow for an interview with someone unaffiliated and unverified, as publicity is of course always a risk with the publicly known, and I have no free time to take risks for strangers. However, I happen to have some free time, as I have stepped back from the public eye. I will allow you to interview me, on three conditions. I would like for you to come to my manor, as I have to keep an eye on my granddaughter and do not care for babysitters. You will not interview her, and I would advise you do not interact with her at all unless she initiates it. And lastly, I would like to review what you write. I hope you find these terms satisfactory.

Regards,

Emet S. Galvus]

Naomi: A bit pompous … but what else should you expect … Oh Mrs Shwider, how I wish it was you instead …

Naomi: (groaning) Al-right, time to get ready then. Wouldn’t want to make Mr. CEO wait for little old me now, would we?

Emet: …

Emet: (Turning off computer) Maxima, we have a guest coming over soon.

Emet: I would tell you to play nice …

Emet: But I wouldn’t want to ruin your fun.

[vvelegrin]

hm it is perhaps time for a Video Game. it is friday evening and i am allowed to rest. amen.

[gloomwitchwrites]

I absolutely love your stories they’re so amazing! Can I please request the task force and pranking them by telling them a guy did your Brazilian wax

Thank you! I can't take all the credit. I might be the writer, but the Imagines Series couldn't be what it is without all the amazing ideas people have submitted. I'm honestly blown away by the amount of creativity and ideas sent my way. My inbox is full of wonderful requests, and while it's going to take me a bit to get to them all, I'm eager to complete them!

The amount of prank requests I've been getting has been so fun. Not just this one, but telling mom to shut up, and the premium air prank, etc. All of these make me giggle and have been a blast to work on. Thank you so much for sending this in!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, established relationship, pranks, non-descriptive nudity

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John briefly licks the pad of his thumb before counting out the appropriate amount of pound notes.

“This enough?” he asks, presenting it to you.

It’s more than enough. “Plenty. Thank you, John.”

He leans forward a bit, and you eagerly greet him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. Drawing back, you give him your best smile. But beneath the grin is a trick.

You want to mess with him a bit.

“I have a new waxer,” you shrug, adding the cash to your wallet. “Cheryl put in her notice.”

Cheryl did not put in her notice. That woman probably won’t retire until she dies.

John inclines his head, already turning away. “That’s too bad. You liked her.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, grabbing your purse. “They’ve put me with someone new. A Mark? Mike? No—Marcus? I think.”

John freezes. He slowly turns back, cheeks bright red. “What?”

“It starts with an ‘m’,” you muse.

“Your new waxer is a man?”

“Yes,” you shrug. “And?” John’s face resembles a beet. “Everything good?”

“Where does Cherly work now?”

“John—”

He grabs his phone from his pocket and starts tapping away at it. "I want to know if she accepts walk-ins."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle's hand slowly runs over your newly waxed skin. "Look at you. So soft and smooth." His touch makes you shiver.

"You paid for it," you murmur.

"I did," smiles Kyle, head dipping.

His tongue makes contact, and you release a moan. It’s slightly distracting, but not enough to detract from you poking at him.

“Had a new waxer,” you sigh as Kyle goes in for another taste.

“Did you?” he asks absently, more interested in your new smoothness.

“A man, actually. Undergoing training. There were two of them in the room.”

Kyle's head snaps up. "What?"

"Why'd you stop?" you whimper.

"There were two men that waxed you?"

“No, Kyle. Just one.”

A series of emotions pass over Kyle's face. His mouth opens. Closes. And then his hand forms a fist, fingers flexing and relaxing as he mulls over something.

"Everything okay?" you ask, suddenly worried.

“Can’t be that hard.” Kyle pushes away from the couch and reaches for his phone. “Or expensive.”

“What can’t? Kyle. What are you talking about?”

You lean forward and see him adding a waxing kit to his online shopping cart.

“No,” you say firmly. “You’re not putting hot wax anywhere near my vagina.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

"Oh, what's this?"

Johnny's hands are on your thighs and then beneath your skirt in a moment.

"Johnny!"

"Is this for me? You don't have to. You know I like a good adventure through the woods."

"Johnny!" you say again, slapping his arm playfully as his fingers lightly squeeze, making your squirm in his grasp.

"Was this on my dime?" he asks.

"Maybe."

"Oh, aye. Am I gonna find an unknown charge?"

"With a tip. A large tip. My waxer deserved it. He did a good job."

"Oh, they—he?"

"Yes. That a problem?"

Johnny's hands don't retreat but he's staring at you—hard. You arch an eyebrow and he finally speaks. "Your waxer is a man?"

No.

"Yes."

Johnny nods and then he leans in, lowering his voice. “You’re taking the piss.”

“I’m—”

“I saw your location. I checked it out. They don’t have a single male employee in that place.”

Your face grows hot.

Johnny’s hands squeeze a bit harder, and then he lands a brief smack against the curve of your ass. “Lying to me, love?” Johnny tsks. He palms the curve of your ass where it stings. “Suppose I should punish you.”

“Maybe you should.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You reject the call and clutch your phone to your chest. You've messed up. Royally. Pranking Simon is always a terrible idea.

The texts were just a tease. Just a way to push Simon’s buttons.

I have a new waxer.

I thought it would be one of the other ladies.

But no!

It was a guy!

Your phone buzzes again and you nearly throw it across the room. It’s Simon. You decline the call. Everything is quiet for a few brief seconds before a text message from him comes through.

Answer your phone.

You click out a reply.

I'm in the car!

His reply comes instantly.

You're at home. I know your location.

Another incoming call. This one you answer.

"Simon,” you say flatly.

"What location did you go to?" he asks, voice rough with tension.

"Why?" you counter.

"What's his name?" he snaps.

"I know what you're doing, Simon.”

You always forget just how deep his possessive streak goes.

Silence. Then, "I just want to talk."

"Simon.”

He growls your name in warning.

"You don't need to go there. Just...come home. You can see the results for yourself."

He sighs. "I'll be there in ten. Be ready for me."

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[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (03) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

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

Chapter Word count: 14.8k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

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

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: I've been thoroughly enjoying your asks and replies about this story (sorry I can’t get to each one!) I see that a lot can relate to what OC's going through and I'm sending you hugs! 🤗 Again, I appreciate your love and excitement. And uh... Golden JK in that white tank. YUP. 🤭 Hoping you enjoy this one!

And as always, my biggest thanks to��@wonwoonlight  🥰

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

The spring in your step tightens the closer you get to Jungkook’s penthouse the next Monday. Walking here to start another week, there’s a mix of emotions you’re carrying with you. 

You got to spend a proper weekend. On Friday, you made yourself some cold noodles and then watched a movie with Jimin and Soomin on video call, who’d said they’ll be visiting you in a week. You took the train to Daegu on Saturday, went to the park, then stayed in to enjoy Min-woo’s cooking and the girls’ stories about school and their youth clubs. You then buried yourself in your mother’s embrace as you told her about your week. You didn’t want to say too much, not wanting her to worry that her daughter isn’t being treated well at her job, but you suppose you said enough. 

“I wish I was strong enough to protect you from everything,” she’d told you softly. “All I can do is just give you hugs and say words of encouragement that might not even mean much.”

“And you still are, mom. I look forward to being with you because of those hugs. But more than that, you were strong enough to protect me from the bad guys,” you’d assured her. “Jungkook is many things but he’s not a terrible person. I can handle him.”

And you meant it. He may be hot-tempered sometimes but he’s not evil. But just because he made you go home early last Friday, it also doesn’t mean he’s suddenly redeemed in your mind. Sure, he didn’t email you at all over the weekend unlike last time, but he also still didn’t apologize to you nor show remorse. 

Perhaps that small nod after he called you telling you that you could go home was his way of saying sorry, or maybe it just isn’t in his vocabulary. You wonder if Hoseok had told him off but even then, it’s a pretty quick change, if you could call it that. 

Regardless, you felt like a human being again these past few days; you just wish Jungkook woke up on the right side of the bed this morning and doesn’t find a reason to complain about you. 

Unlocking the door, you’re surprised to hear silence - there are no grunts and deep breaths nor the sound of leather hitting leather from his morning workout. You scan the floor before walking around - a habit you’ve developed after finding that laced underwear last week - and then peep into the door on the right, only to find untouched equipment and no other traces of him. 

You’re in the living room when you hear another door close, prompting you to turn around and see a woman appearing from the hallway on the other side of the penthouse. Her hair’s a bit disheveled and she’s wearing one of Jungkook’s coats that you saw in his closet. 

“Uh, who are you?” The woman scoffs, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised now. 

Taken aback, you just stare at her, until you realize she’s not wearing anything underneath so you look away.

You try to make sense of who she is and how you could get out of this situation. You know for a fact that Jungkook doesn’t have a girlfriend, at least that’s what Lucas had told you, but who knows what Jungkook’s been up to since he got back? There was that red laced underwear from last week after all. Maybe he does sleep around like what Do-hyun said. Maybe this woman just doesn’t know Jungkook has a female assistant. Maybe he’s—

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” she says, sounding more annoyed now. 

“Oh. Uh, I’m Mr. Jeon’s—”

“She’s my assistant,” Jungkook answers, catching you off guard, given that you hadn’t noticed him walk in. 

He’s not in his usual workout attire, although him in a white tank top and gray sweatpants with mussed hair somehow seems more overwhelming than him in nothing but gym shorts. You glance at him as he stands next to the woman, whose face suddenly lights up. Not wanting to look at her, you shift your gaze towards the ceiling, trying hard not to look awkward as you’re rooted in place. 

The woman looks at you from head to toe and you feel her judging you, assessing you, while Jungkook stands there, yawning and combing his hair with his fingers.

“Just your assistant?” She asks, sounding incredulous. 

“Yeah. What else would she be?” Jungkook answers nonchalantly. Looking at you, he nods ever so slightly that you almost miss it, another hint of acknowledgement you’d seen last Friday. “Just eggs on toast. And coffee.”

“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” you say, exhaling the breath you were holding and then walking to the kitchen to start on his breakfast. 

“I don’t know, another one of your girls? I see you with a new one every time,” she huffs, sounding bitter, but Jungkook doesn’t sound amused.

“What are you still doing here?” He asks, walking to where you are then taking the glass of water you prepare for him. “I called a service for you last night.”

“I was too tired,” she says, and you don’t miss the sultry tone of her voice now. “You tired me out, Jungkook. I could barely get off the bed.”

“And why are you still here?” He asks, clearly not having it with her teasing. 

“Because I’m still tired,” she smirks, having followed him to the kitchen. 

You feel tense once more; you definitely don’t want to be part of this conversation in any way nor be privy to it, especially given what obviously happened between them last night. And especially not with Jungkook looking and sounding the way he does this early Monday morning.

“And I was thirsty,” she continues. 

He sets his glass down and opens the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of water that he hands over to her. 

“Ugh, how romantic,” she rolls her eyes, finishing it in a few gulps. 

“I have to go to work,” he tells her, frustrated that she’s being stubborn about not leaving when he no longer seems to want her around. 

“Actual work, or, you know, work?” She says, gesturing towards you.

You make the mistake of looking at her smug face, the insinuation not lost on you. It’s insane how she can just make claims like that, and you feel that just like you, Jungkook’s getting pissed.

“Can you just leave?” He says much more sternly now. “I can’t start my day with you still here.”

“Ooh, how rude,” she giggles. “Should’ve expected you’d be like that even outside of bed. I like that.”

She walks back to the room, leaving you and Jungkook on your own. You continue to work on his eggs while he stands by the counter, rubbing his temples. You’re unsure if it’s because of her or from last night’s alcohol, but you get aspirin and also a bottle of energy drink and set them in front of him before returning to preparing his meal. 

The woman comes back shortly in last night’s attire then walks towards Jungkook.

“I’m leaving,” she announces, tilting his chin so he would face her. “I’ll see you again, yeah?”

Jungkook turns away and does not respond, leaving her to laugh as if there’s a joke that only she’s in on.

“Going all quiet on me now, huh?” She says. “You weren’t like that last night. I can still hear your moans, actually. Fuck, they sounded so good and so loud.”

You almost hit your finger as you slice the apple, clearly not expecting for this stranger to say something so intimate, knowing there’s another person in the room with them. You don’t know if she wants to intimidate you for whatever reason or maybe just make you feel uncomfortable. Whatever it is, it’s working, as you’re unable to focus on the task at hand now. 

Jungkook still doesn’t say anything, and it’s what prompts her to finally say goodbye. 

“Fine, I’ll leave now,” she whines. “But that was an amazing first time. I hope it won’t be the last.”

Her giggle annoys you for some reason, even more when you mistakenly look her way. Her smug face unnerves you as she holds your gaze while she says, “I’ll see you again, okay? I’ll make sure you’ll scream my name next time,” the words obviously directed at Jungkook. 

She finally exits the penthouse but she doesn’t take the tension with her because in this large apartment with you and him, you feel a little too hot, a little too alert, yet somehow a little too curious.

Jungkook groans now as he finishes his energy drink, and he doesn’t know what he’s more frustrated about - the fact that the woman whose name he doesn’t remember didn’t go home, or that you’d found out about it in the most embarrassing way and he’d done nothing to stop her attempts at making you feel uncomfortable because that’s definitely what she was doing. 

He doesn’t know how it affected you but even he can tell that it wouldn’t have been good. Not that he’s ashamed of his lifestyle but it’s different when you, of all people, get to see what that looks like. You did see the laced underwear on his kitchen floor last week, and he knows you definitely tried to pretend you hadn’t. Perhaps the image of arrogant, playboy Jungkook just solidified in your head and the fact that maybe that’s what you think of him is making him feel uneasy. 

Not that he cares about what you think - he definitely does not - but he just doesn’t want that to affect how you would treat him in a professional sense, as if he’s some reckless man who works too hard and parties much harder, even if that’s kind of what he does. 

The hangover doesn’t help at all; he shouldn’t have chugged that wine while the woman was giving him head, which was amazing, he reminds himself. He just knows he won’t be seeing her again after this morning because she’d been stubborn and shameless, and definitely not because of how she spoke to you and the insinuations she made.

“Mr. Jeon, your breakfast is ready,” you inform him, breaking him out of his thoughts. 

He takes a seat on the table and you sit next to him, taking out your iPad to start your rundown of last Friday’s meeting and this week’s schedule. 

“So—”

“Wait, give me a minute,” he stops you, and he realizes just how little sleep he actually got and he’s gonna have to push through today’s busy schedule despite feeling physically out of it. 

“Okay, sir,” you say softly.

He munches on his toast with his eyes closed, and when he opens them, his gaze falls on you, sitting upright on the chair looking clean and proper in your blush blouse and beige skirt. You seem to be reviewing the reports from last week, your eyebrows scrunched as you scribble on the screen. He knows you took the hours-long trip to and from Daegu over the weekend; the visit, just like any, must have been tiring. Yet you come to his place everyday without fail, ready to do what he needs you to do, and he doesn’t even know if you’ve had anything to eat yet. 

“Have you had breakfast?” He asks.

“E-excuse me?”

“Breakfast. Have you had it?”

“O-oh. Yes, I had some crackers and fruit on the way. I ate on the bus,” you respond.

He remembers your address from your staff profile. You live about 40 minutes from him, almost double if you commute. You come at 6:30 everyday, so he can only imagine what it’s like for you every morning. 

“Why don’t you drive?”

“I don’t have a car, sir.”

“Shouldn’t that be part of your contract? Or a benefit of some sort?”

“It isn’t. I believe only the CEO’s assistant does,” you respond. 

“Bitna has a company car.”

“Ms. Jung requested that when she was still President.”

“Then I’ll request one for you. It's… it’s too early. And you can’t always be assured of public transportation. There could be delays. Or an emergency that would require you to drive.”

Of course, he’d want you to get a car so that you’re more accessible to him. Just when you thought there’s actually a bit of his heart working this time, he reminds you why there isn’t.

“That’s true, but nothing has happened so far. And there are other options should there be,” you say. “I also don’t know how to drive so there is no need, Mr. Jeon. I leave my apartment early enough to make sure I get here on time, and I’ll let you know if I will be late.”

Jungkook just hums, even if there’s more he wants to know. What about late nights? What if there’s a storm? Well, he does know - he did see you miss out on taxis and then just walk last Tuesday; he wonders how you got home then, and how many hours of sleep you had after all that. 

He lets it go; it’s too early to think about this.

“Good. We can run through the minutes now,” he says.

So you do, stating the points and confirming your actions for each one and then noting down his as well. You try to focus, and you’re able to for the most part, but it’s not easy when he sits just a few feet away from you, with his bare arms propped on the table that’s just hard to look away from. 

You’ve always liked tattoos on other people, and the art on his right arm looks so delicate and personal; you wonder what someone like him would value enough to ink permanently on his skin. Even his untouched arm is mesmerizing, toned like every other part of him, with beauty marks that you spot as well. It doesn’t help that his slightly long hair keeps falling over his eyes, prompting him to comb them with his fingers every time. 

What also doesn’t help are the woman’s words from earlier, as she’d managed to make you think of Jungkook in a very different way, given her descriptions of how he’d been last night. You don’t know what she intended by doing that, but you didn’t miss her insinuations about your relations with him, which are definitely far from the truth. Learning that he’s rough and loud in bed is also knowledge that you could’ve done without. Somehow, he sounds like how he looks - expressive of negative emotions, and the type to drain the other person. 

He also sounds like the guys you’ve slept with.

The thought alarms you. These are things you shouldn’t be thinking about your boss, about the man who pays you, about the one who makes you miss meals and buses and who makes you angry because of how he treats you. 

You try to dispel these ideas by coughing - the loud sound helps, and you also want to distract yourself from how distracted you are at your task because somehow he keeps getting more and more attractive after every glance. 

He stands up, and just when you thought he’d be angry after your disruption, he surprises you by placing a glass of water in front of you.

“You can drink, you know? You can make yourself a cup of coffee. You can even cook yourself breakfast if it’s just crackers you eat in the morning,” he says. 

Yes, you think to yourself. You’ve been wanting to try his coffee because of the fancy machine but breakfast sounds… too domestic. 

“Thank you, but I’m okay. I mean, the snacks fill me up just fine.”

“It’s not proper breakfast, though,” he argues. 

“With all due respect, sir, eating takes time away from all the things I have to do. I manage just fine.”

Expecting an annoyed expression from him because you did just imply that you do too much, you instead see the tiniest hint of guilt on his face, as if he actually feels bad that you’re unable to take care of yourself because of him. 

“You’re not a servant, Ms. Cho. You’re not disallowed to do basic things just because of your job.”

“You have standards, Mr. Jeon,” you say, throwing his words back at him. You don’t expect to see his face fall a little, and you’re surprised that you seem to care. “I need to meet them, and I’m still familiarizing myself with how you want things done, and that takes time. I don’t mean to imply that you treat me like a servant because you don’t. I just… I want to be able to do things right and I’m still learning.”

The words hit Jungkook. He knows he’d been too critical during these first weeks, and that’s more because he’s unable to manage the initial attraction that he’s trying so hard to temper. He could’ve gone on correcting you constructively, with no need for harshness the way he did with Lucas when he started. 

You’ve also been doing this for a few years. You’ve been working for the VP’s office longer than he has - you know the people and the processes more, yet you’re the one claiming you need to learn and do things right. Even he thinks his father, whom he never thought was the best at looking out for his people, wouldn’t be angry at those below him for irrational reasons. Somehow he thinks he’s worse than his old man now. 

But the word sorry isn’t in his vocabulary. He’d rarely ever said it, and the only reason he’d heard it a lot growing up was because people caused his inconvenience, and not because they’d hurt his feelings. He doesn’t know what that’s like - forgiving and wanting to be forgiven. They’re foreign to him, but somehow those are what you’re making him want to know. 

“I—”

“Can we move on, Mr. Jeon?” You interrupt him. “You have a scheduled check-in with your father before the 8:30 team meeting.”

“Right, that’s today,” Jungkook says, letting go of any form of apology he could muster. 

He nods then stands up to head to his bathroom, and you follow shortly after to arrange his outfits for the week. You clean up in the kitchen after and wait for him to come out, with you reflexively walking up to him to fix his tie and make sure all the creases on his clothes are fixed. 

Jungkook tries to remain still as you, like everyday, make sure he looks proper. It always took him a long time to get ready because he used to do all this on his own, but with you taking on the unofficial stylist role - which he admits you do a great job at - he’s relieved of that added stress of looking the part of a Vice President. It just also means that every morning, he has to look unaffected as you stand close to him like this, with you tightening his tie and your fingers grazing his clothed chest.

You smell like roses. It feels warm and nostalgic, like it’s familiar but also something new. It’s refreshing on you, and it wafts through his nose and paralyzes him a little. He tries to hold his breath like always, only briefly glancing at your focused eyes as you make sure he looks impeccable. 

He’s caught off guard when you look up and meet his gaze. He doesn’t react, but he does linger and surprisingly, so do you. He wants to apologize but he doesn’t know how to. He just hopes you feel it somehow with how he looks at you; he’d like to think you do, as you gently bow and step back, taking your things to go down. 

You go through his schedule while in the car, noting his dinner meetings and that the food tasting for next month’s event with the art industry professionals that you’re both organizing has been moved to next week, freeing up his Thursday lunch hour.

“I’ll schedule my visit at Taehyung’s tailor shop that day then,” Jungkook states. “I’ll have a few suits done.”

“Noted, Mr. Jeon,” you reply, adjusting his calendar. 

He doesn’t say anything after. He takes his leather notebook and sketches like he often does, looking out his window only a few times as he’s engrossed in his drawings. Even with all that he is, you can’t deny Jungkook’s talent. You only know he took an architecture course but you don’t know if he actually practices it. 

You start to wonder if Jungkook wanted that to be his profession but couldn’t pursue it because he’s expected to manage the company with his cousin. You wonder if he’d always been into drawing and the arts, if it was an outlet the way reading picture books was for you; you’d wanted to become an illustrator but your mother couldn’t afford drawing classes and that profession just didn’t seem like it could sustain you financially. You wonder what Jungkook thinks when he sketches and what his subjects are, if he feels at peace the way he looks, if he hopes he could just spend his days doing this. 

The seeming warmth in your thoughts about this man concerns you, prompting you to turn away from his direction and stare out the window instead. You remind yourself that this is the same person who’d made the past two weeks miserable for you; he doesn’t deserve warmth from you in any form, even if, for the briefest moment earlier after you fixed his tie, that’s what you gave him. You learned that he’s quite mesmerizing when he doesn’t talk or when he isn’t scowling. You also learned you’re quite quick to fall into it when you let your guard down a little. 

You groan internally. There’s a lot you don’t know about him and you don’t really care to know more; what you know is enough to put you off anyway. And so these moments of weakness - of curiosity, of concern -  should not happen again. 

Except, they do happen, over an hour later after Jungkook returns to his room from his check-in with his father. He sits on his chair, his eyes closed and jaws clenched, unmoving for a good few minutes, and you watch from your seat, wondering what transpired that’s got him this disturbed. 

It happens again an hour later. He moved the team meeting to the afternoon and he’s now furiously typing on his desktop, making calls, sketching, making calls again, then sitting still with his eyes closed once more. Hoseok walks in, merely nodding at you, then enters the room and speaks with the younger man. Jungkook closes the blinds, and you’re left to wonder what’s going on behind closed doors and what’s got him angry and frustrated.

You take your chance at finding out when Hoseok emerges, asking him if everything’s okay, if Jungkook is okay.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hoseok says, a half smile on display, something you’re only a tad familiar with. “He’ll manage.”

He rushes out, saying he has a meeting to get to, and you nod, glancing at the closed door and blocked window, wondering what troubles Jungkook is handling on his own. If it’s personal, it’s clearly not your business. But if it’s work-related, then it is. You’re there to make things easier for him, after all. You also don’t want to be surprised and be bombarded by new tasks just in case, so it’s better to know if there’s something you can help in resolving things as well.

You walk in his room then place the ginger lemon tea on his desk, a common home remedy for hangovers, just in case last night’s events are still affecting him. You inform him that you’ve sent the reports already for his sign-off, and he responds that he’ll get to them tomorrow.

Glancing at his drink, he halts his typing to look at you. 

“Do I look hungover to you?” He asks pointedly.

It’s clearly not what you meant, but you suppose the insinuation isn’t what he needs right now. You want to be swallowed by the ground. He was already calm towards you, civil even, and now there’s another reason for him to be upset at you. You wanted to avoid any possibility of that as much as possible, and now you’re here, at the verge of being told off again, just because your stupid brain decided to care the tiniest bit.

“I, uh, no, Mr. Jeon,” you stutter. “I just…”

You don’t have a reason. Clearly, you can’t tell him that he hasn’t seemed okay all morning - whatever that means - and that just in case it’s last night’s alcohol affecting him, there’s a cure. You stare back at him with worry, but instead of challenging or questioning you, he just sits back with his eyes closed again and dismisses you. 

“You may leave,” he instructs. 

“What about lunch, sir?” You ask. 

You’d never cared before, why the change now? 

“I’m fine,” he responds. “Call me when the meeting’s about to start.”

Your stubborn self takes the box of biscuits from the coffee table and places it in front of him. You’re pushing it, you think, but there’s a meeting he’ll be leading and he can’t be unfocused; when he is, it’s all the worse for you. 

He doesn’t react and you walk out. When you enter an hour later to call him, you spot the empty cup and the crumbs on the saucer, and you can’t help the tiny smile that you make internally.

It’s short-lived though, as that whole afternoon, he acts unusually - he barely makes comments at updates, he doesn’t make eye contact, and doesn’t ask further questions. He just nods when you say you’re heading out at 6PM, giving you no added tasks to keep you from leaving.

You enter his penthouse the next morning to the banging of leather hitting leather, prompting you to jerk from the loud sounds. He’s grunting and panting heavily, and you just know that whatever it was that transpired yesterday, he’s releasing all his emotions right now, through this. 

He exits the gym and walks to the counter where you are, finishing the water you laid for him in three gulps. 

“Do you need that tended to?” You ask. 

He looks surprised. You gesture towards his hands and he looks at his bruised knuckles; he really let it all out this morning, it seems. 

“I’m fine,” he shrugs. 

You didn’t think those two words from him would ever make you feel discouraged, but one thing you’ve come to learn about Jungkook is that he easily expresses his anger and frustration towards other people. It’s when he keeps things in that they seem more serious, and you wonder what words he heard yesterday that might have made him this closed off, this quiet, this much more distant.

But fortunately, your feeling of worry fades with each day that passes, as he slowly returns to his normal self after - the focus, the perpetually serious look, the attention to detail, the sketching on his notebook. Perhaps Jungkook just needed a particular kind of release and he’s maybe handling things better now. 

For his sake and yours, you wish the issue has been resolved, otherwise another blow up might happen and that wouldn’t be good for your newfound dynamic that’s a lot more civil than anything. 

It’s Thursday when you get a call at 5 in the morning, just as you’ve woken up to get ready for work, and Mr. Ri’s voice greets you on the other end.

“Hi, ___. How are you this morning?”

“Hi, Mr. Ri,” you yawn, curious as to why he’s checking up on you this early. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he hums. “I was instructed by Mr. Jeon to pick you up today.”

“Why would CEO Jeon ask that?” You wonder, as you sleepily walk to the bathroom to wash up.

“He didn’t. Jungkook did.”

You stop on your tracks. You don’t recall being informed about this, nor do you know of any particular reason why you should be at his place so soon.

“Oh, uhm, okay. I should be ready in–”

“I’ll be there in about 50 minutes,” Mr. Ri interjects. “Sleep in a bit more and have some breakfast. I’ll see you shortly.”

You try not to think about what prompted Jungkook to have you picked up, so you focus on getting ready and then whipping yourself some fried rice using the leftover seafood from last night. You won’t lie, it tastes delicious. It might be that you just haven’t had proper weekday breakfast in a while, but it could also be that you’re energized enough and not pressed for time that you’re able to make this as good as it is. 

You decide to bring some to Jungkook’s place just in case you get there late. Sure, Mr. Ri will be driving you, but you don’t know how the traffic is at this time, and this change in schedule is somewhat making you anxious. But then again, there’s always bread or cereal for him to eat; you just think that a little act of thanks wouldn’t be so bad.

Mr. Ri arrives exactly 50 minutes later and he assures you that he’ll get you to the penthouse in half an hour. You trust him of course; he’s been with the Jeons for decades and he knows these streets like the back of his hand. Seated in the passenger seat, you try to figure out what about today has got your boss a little kinder than usual. 

“I arrived five minutes late yesterday,” you wonder out loud. “Is that why? He has a meeting with a local artist in the morning and he doesn’t want me to be late. That should be it. Ugh, stupid,” you groan. “I should’ve taken the first bus I saw, but it was so full and–”

“___,” Mr. Ri stops you. “Five minutes isn’t much. Plus, you always arrive 10 minutes before 6:30 and then just wait at the lobby. I don’t know why you do, you could always just go up to the penthouse when you get there, you know?”

“No, I don’t. Mr. Jeon has boundaries and clearly likes keeping his distance. Going to his penthouse before I’m supposed to be there feels like I’m intruding,” you argue.

“You’re literally his assistant, and you go to his bedroom and his closet, fix his things, prepare his meals… there’s no intrusion happening,” Mr. Ri counters. “I know the man. He’ll probably just look at you curiously then go about his routine.”

“Well, since you know him so well, then why did he have me picked up this morning?”

There’s a brief silence before the man next to you responds.

“He did note that you were late for the first time, but that wasn’t his issue,” Mr. Ri says, appeasing you before you react negatively and think that your tardiness was a big deal. “He asked if I knew how you got to Hoseok’s place before and I said you would just take the bus; it was closer to your place so it was fine. They have someone to make his breakfast, too, so you didn’t need to come early; plus, you only went every Monday.”

“What a change, huh?” You attempt to poke fun at yourself and the new arrangement you’re in. 

Not that you’re complaining; you know of other executive assistants who do much more for their bosses and what you have with Jungkook isn’t even that bad. But it is quite the shift compared to what you did for Hoseok. You’ve figured out your own routine, though. And the commute isn’t always terrible, for as long as you’re not one of the unlucky ones, given the recent incidents. 

“It’s quite the change. I don’t think he realized that until yesterday. He also asked me if I know if you eat properly in the morning. Maybe he thinks you don’t?”

“I’ve skipped meals…” you trail. “And well, I told him that I just eat crackers on the bus. Maybe he thinks I’m losing focus some days.”

“Maybe he’s just concerned.”

You snort at the absurdity of the statement. 

Mr. Ri sighs. He knows that Jungkook hasn’t been his best self since he arrived in Seoul, and especially towards you. He’s noticed the young man’s indifference, the occasional passive remark, the frustrated looks, and the tension every morning. He’s noticed your faraway eyes, too, your constant anxiety, and unusual lack of confidence in your usual tasks, given that you look to be second-guessing everything you do. 

As someone who’s worked for the Jeons for so long and who’d watched Jungkook grow up, he’s used to the detachment, but it was always because the young man often lived in his own head. There are always lots of thoughts and ideas, and lots of feelings he keeps bottled in. 

But he’s also seen Jungkook’s kindness that he doesn’t always show, the guilt and anger that restrain him from expressing his emotions, and the care that he seems to put a brake on when he shows too much of it to someone, and so it isn’t much of a surprise to him to him when the young man gave this specific instruction to pick you up, not just today but everyday moving forward.

“The news on the radio reported on the robberies and complaints of sexual harassment against female commuters last night,” Mr. Ri continues. “They attack at any hour now. I’m sure that’s why. He wants me to drive you home everyday, too.”

“Mr. Ri, that’s too much,” you protest. “That’s not part of my contract and it isn’t his responsibility.”

“Maybe, precisely why I think he’s concerned. It isn’t about making sure you’re not late to work or anything. He’s worried that something might happen to you. And I agree. It isn’t safe, ___.”

“It’s not safe for me anywhere. I just… it’s too much,” you sigh. “I don’t need this kind of service. I’m not entitled to it.”

“He’ll insist though. Will you argue with him over your own security? I mean, it’s either this or he’ll pay for your driving lessons and then request for a car for you to use.”

You sigh, knowing he has a point. You don’t think you deserve it but you also can’t deny that the concern makes you feel a certain kind of way for him; gratitude, for one, and something else you can’t exactly name. 

“Okay,” you say softly. 

“Good. It’s about time he makes it up to you,” he chuckles. “Boy’s been a brat these past weeks. I wanted to just knock some sense into him.”

“Hmm, not like I expected any less,” you huff. “He just looked grumpy or disinterested during the times I’ve seen him before. Unhappy people like that aren’t always the kindest. Has he always been that way?”

“I wouldn’t say he has. I mean, he just wasn’t joyful or expressive, not like his brother. Jungkook liked to keep to himself; Hoseok often tried to push him out of his comfort zone but the boy wouldn’t really budge. I think as he grew up, that just amplified. People who prefer being alone have their reasons, don’t they?”

They do. You know this just like anyone, perhaps as much as Jungkook. It’s comfortable being alone; there’s no one to hurt you and no one you could hurt. You wonder if his reason is the same, and if, like you, he feels the loneliness creep in every once in a while. 

You nod in silence and the conversation doesn’t continue until you arrive at Jungkook’s building. You have five minutes to get to his unit and you get there in three. When you enter, you hear grunting from the gym, and it’s shortly after when he exits and drinks the glass of water on the counter.

“What’s that?” He gestures at the plastic container next to you.

“It’s fried rice. I made it this morning because I had time to eat breakfast at home,” you say, softly smiling and then bowing at him to show your gratitude. Whatever his reason is, the act was appreciated. 

“And you’re gonna eat again?”

“I was actually–”

You stop midway. You actually meant to serve it to him in case you arrived late, which you realize is pretty ridiculous. 

“Actually what?” He asks, leaning forward on the counter now, with his bare arms from his tank top blinding you a little. 

“I didn’t know what time I was gonna get here so I thought as a last resort, I’ll bring this to heat up and serve to you but then I realized that that’s pretty stupid because it’s leftovers and definitely not high-quality ingredients and it’s… just silly. Plus, you don’t eat rice in the morning.”

With his scrunched brows, he asks, “is it good?”

“It’s pretty delicious,” you say. “I mean, I liked it. I don’t know how sophisticated your palate is… Mr. Jeon.”

You smack yourself internally for rambling. 

“What’s that got to do with anything? If it’s good, then it’s good.”

“I’m an ordinary person, Mr. Jeon. I have normal people’s taste buds.”

“So that makes me, what? Abnormal?”

“No… I–” you unknowingly pout. You shouldn’t have brought this in the first place. 

Jungkook is disarmed again at the sight of your pouty face. If this is your way of thanking him for this morning, he’ll take it. The fact that you’d brought something you cooked from your own place to feed to him is already enough to make him feel hazy, which is why he needs to get away from you right away.

“Just heat it up. I’ll have that. There’s not much food in here anyway,” he says, walking away, leaving you no room to resist.

You do as you’re told, not wanting to overthink and change anything. You do check the cupboard and see a stashed pantry, and you wonder if he’d wanted to find something to criticize about your cooking, too. 

He walks in and lets you fix his tie again, and for some reason, you feel more nervous than you normally do today. You sit and busy yourself with responding to emails as he eats his breakfast, careful not to look at him while he does.

“It’s good, a little better than how I do mine,” he says, surprising you.

“You cook?” You ask too quickly.

“Of course,” he frowns, looking a little offended. “I lived on my own for years. How do you think I survived?”

“Hiring people to do it for you,” you shrug. 

Peeking at him once again, you see that he’s almost finished with the dish, and you can’t help the little smile on your face at the thought that he might actually enjoy it. It’s just fried rice, but you let yourself feel the shallow happiness from this. He’s at least not berating you or anything.

He finishes his meal as you go through yesterday’s meetings. There’s not much about the Arts Center he says, just like yesterday and the day before, and you start to wonder if the issue with his father has anything to do with that. 

You let it go, opting to just follow his pace and let him talk about it when he’s ready, if he ever will be. 

The morning goes by smoothly. Jungkook meets with Yoongi in his office then reviews the reports you’d sent last Monday. He sends you an email, saying that they’ve been approved and for you to attach his signature for sign-off and dissemination, leaving you perplexed at the lack of any other comments again. 

He goes for a quick lunch at the dining hall while you eat a sandwich at the pantry, and not long after, you’re back in the car to head to Jungkook’s appointment with his best friend.

Kim Taehyung’s tailor shop boasts of classic European design. It’s elegant in all the ways that he is, as he stands by the desk in his working space, a smaller room on the mezzanine floor with an exquisite couch and displays of his work. He’s donned in an orange suit that you think only he can pull off, while his brother, Seokjin, sits on a chair in an impeccable black 3-piece. 

You know as much that Jungkook grew up with both men, but while the brothers are often a hot topic on the news because of their wealth, their successful businesses, and colorful dating lives, you now wonder how Jungkook managed to stay out of the spotlight despite being a lot of the things that they are. 

You bow at them after Jungkook introduces you as his assistant, and you’re surprised when Seokjin reaches out his hand to shake yours, bowing as well and offering you a kind smile. Taehyung does the same, and you can’t help but feel the warmth on your cheeks. They’re clearly incredibly handsome men with amazing styles, just like your boss, but they’re obviously respectful and gentle, unlike him. 

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Cho,” Taehyung smiles. “So, what events do I need to dress my best friend for?”

He looks warm, friendly, and you can’t help but mirror his smile as he offers you a seat and some tea. You take out your calendar and enumerate at least three big events in the next months, which would require standout designs. Jungkook also wants four additional everyday classic suits, and Taehyung starts sketching on his pad as you speak. 

“Make one for my event, too,” Seokjin says. “I’m launching my traditional alcohol brand in Singapore in September. It’ll be a big thing so Jungkook needs a fancy piece for that as well.”

“That soon?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah, it got pushed early,” Seokjin replies.

Jungkook asks you to check his calendar for any activities in the Singapore office, and you state that there’s nothing scheduled during that time. 

“There’s a landscape designer I want to meet while I’m there. Schedule one with her later,” Jungkook instructs you, and you make a note to coordinate with Lucas, who will continue to serve as the assigned assistant for the Vice President’s Southeast Asia trips. 

Taehyung finishes the rough designs quickly, given that he’s already familiar with the style his client wants. He’s done a lot of Jungkook’s suits, which you know from all the weeks of preparing his clothes, and you do admit that he looks best in these custom-made pieces.

As Taehyung takes Jungkook’s measurements - given that, as per his words, Jungkook has gotten wider since the last time - he asks if you have something to wear for those big events, too. 

“Uh, yes,” you say. 

“Are they from company events from before?” Taehyung asks.

You nod shyly. It’s not like you’re paid enough to afford a new one every time nor can you wear them anywhere else; there aren’t exactly regular fancy dinners and social occasions you get invited to.

“Have new ones made, then,” Jungkook says, his back turned to you.

“Uh, there’s no need, Mr. Jeon. The gowns still look new and they’re well-made,” you insist.

“Store-bought?” Taehyung asks, his eyebrow cocked.

“Uh, yes, Mr. Kim.”

“Nothing beats custom-designed ones though. And I must say, I’m kinda good at them.”

“I, uh… it’s really not necessary,” you stutter, feeling a little too shy and definitely undeserving. It’s Kim Taehyung; his name is the brand.

“I believe it is,” Jungkook says now, turning to you. “They’re big events and we’re organizing one with the arts professionals. Some dignitaries will be coming, too, including the culture minister. I’d prefer if you looked the part of working for the Vice President, Ms. Cho. You represent me in that way.”

“I… uh, okay,” you sigh, knowing you don’t seem to be in a position to turn him down. 

“Great. Start thinking of designs, then!” Taehyung beams.

It’s some minutes later when Jungkook’s measurements have been taken and Taehyung calls for you. You sit on the chair facing his desk not far away while Jungkook and Seokjin talk about sports and this new club that opened in Gangnam. 

Seated in front of you, Taehyung takes his sketch pad and starts asking what design you want.

“Something simple and comfortable since I’ll be moving around,” you say softly. “And nothing form-fitting or revealing since, uh…”

“I understand,” Taehyung smiles, revealing a gentle side of him that the paparazzi and tabloids clearly don’t capture. 

He starts drawing your silhouette, glancing at you then at Jungkook before speaking.

“So, he’s been in this role for a few weeks now. Has he been nice?”

“Define ‘nice,’” you respond, earning you a chuckle. 

“I guess that’s my answer, then.”

“I don’t mean to say he isn’t,” you backtrack. “Mr. Jeon just has a different leadership style as Mr. Jung’s, that’s all.”

“I suppose that’s quite a difficult adjustment for you, huh?”

You purse your lips and Taehyung laughs, the soft way he does it is something new and refreshing to you. You didn’t realize how deprived you are of such gentleness, of such acts or sights as simple as a smile. Hoseok is no longer your source. Your team hasn’t been as jolly these past weeks. The only other person you talk to regularly at work is Yoongi, and while he’s definitely been smiling more, it’s a lot more teasing than it is comforting. You’ve been missing your best friends more because of that, you think - Soomin’s smile is blinding, Jimin’s is sweet and infectious. Perhaps it’s why you haven’t been smiling much yourself. 

“I won’t tell, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures you. “I just wanted to check on him. This whole move has been tough but he doesn’t say much. I’m guessing he doesn’t tell you, either, but he’ll definitely show it.”

“He has, actually,” you say softly, knowing now that even with his closest friends, Jungkook tends to keep things to himself. “He’s pretty stressed most days, always working and stuff. He’s been a little hard on me but I guess that’s a natural reaction for some.”

“That’s not an excuse though.”

“It isn’t, but… it’s okay. I can handle it.”

It’s not as much of a lie anymore as it used to be. Jungkook hasn’t been overly critical about things as he was just last week. He rarely makes comments on your minutes now, doesn’t correct the reports you reviewed, doesn’t talk over you or doesn’t yell. There’s been a change, definitely, and you wonder what triggered it. 

“He doesn’t really smile, does he?” You ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Taehyung’s laughter is one of disbelief and pure amusement, catching the attention of the other two men but he waves them off. 

“He still does, just not as much,” he responds. “It kinda stopped after the breakup with Chaerin but I guess that’s what heartbreak does, right?”

“I… wouldn’t know. I’ve never experienced it,” you shrug.

“Lucky,” he hums. “I don’t wish it on anyone.”

You glance at Jungkook, briefly letting yourself imagine a version of him that’s a lot more carefree, relaxed, perhaps happy. Maybe it’s the loneliness and that you’d understand; that, you’ve experienced. It’s both liberating and isolating. You wonder if that’s how he’s been feeling all these years since then.

“I’m done,” Taehyung announces, showing you three designs that are exactly what you asked for. 

“These look nice. And way out of my price range,” you laugh.

“Perks of having a rich boss,” he winks. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, okay? You’re my client and I want you to wear these with confidence. Now, if you’re okay with all this, I’ll get one of my female assistants to get your measurements.”

You nod in response. There’s absolutely nothing you would change about those designs. And if you’re being honest, you now can’t wait for those events just so you could wear them. Hoseok had obviously paid for the gowns you had to wear for the big events, but those were store-bought that A-yeong helped you choose. Some were your own purchases, but this is the first time that you’re getting measured for custom-made clothing designed by Kim Taehyung. 

You walk towards the fitting room at the corner where one of his staff meets you. She’s meticulous, which is why it takes longer than usual just to get this done. With her silence, however, you’re able to hear the conversation happening outside, with the brothers now asking Jungkook about the same thing you’ve been wondering about.

“By the way, what was up with you last Monday?” Seokjin asks. “I thought that was gonna be night 4 of you going home with a new woman. But you passed out before you could even ask. And that was just 9PM.”

“Four nights isn’t much, though,” Taehyung laughs. “Didn’t he do that with seven women on seven straight nights when he was in Singapore? That was wild. Was it that stressful there? Or were there just so many to choose from?”

“Shut up. I’m not proud of that,” Jungkook groans. “And that was one time. It never happened again.”

“It never happened seven times straight again,” Seokjin corrects. “You were really living your life out there, huh? Stressful job, a rooftop bar in your apartment building, chauffeur and butler services 24/7, women from all over the world begging to sleep with you…”

“It’s called the post-break up stage,” Taehyung says. 

“For six years?!” Seokjin asks incredulously. “It’s either you loved Chaerin that much, you blamed yourself too much, or you just really sucked at moving on.”

“I vote all of the above,” Taehyung states.

“Me, too,” Seokjin claims.

“Fuck you both,” Jungkook groans again. 

“I think he also just missed us too much,” Seokjin adds. “Lucas was cleaning up your messes every time, not snapping you out of it. But we’re here now so I guess three straight nights is as far as you’ll go.”

“Two, if you stopped me last Sunday,” Jungkook points out. “You both always insisted that Sundays are a no-no. You were too busy with your own women.”

“May we remind you that you didn’t even make it to our table. You stepped foot in the bar then left five minutes later,” Taehyung says. “But really, what was it about Monday? You seemed angrier than usual.”

“Just… a bunch of things my father said,” Jungkook huffs.

“Did he tell you off again?”

“Not really, surprisingly. He just delivered a message basically, about what the board members were saying about me and my project. Bullshit stuff, you know? I just wanted to forget about it.”

“Did you?”

“Sorta,” Jungkook says. “I still don’t want to talk about it.”

“But it’s still happening, right?” Taehyung asks worriedly. “The Arts Center, I mean. You’ve been wanting to work on that since the building was abandoned five years ago.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook responds. “I guess. We already put money into it. I’ll just have to make concessions if my father doesn’t side with me on this. I hate to think he’s buying into what those old folks are saying.”

“Ms. Cho, we’re all done,” the staff member tells you, muffling the conversation outside that you couldn’t help but hear. 

It felt quite intrusive, hearing how life was like for Jungkook in Singapore, but then again, his personal life seemed to be the topic in the office comfort rooms, and you don’t know how to feel about getting confirmation about those rumors. It felt sad more than anything though, living that kind of life away from friends and family. You wouldn’t know what moving on from a breakup feels like, but you suppose people grieve a lost love in their own ways; you can’t blame them for how they choose to repair the parts of them that broke. 

But the bit about his conversation with his father is what bothers you. You’d hate to think that there’s a possibility that Jungkook’s plans won’t be fully realized, and whatever the reasons for that are, you hope they didn’t break his spirit too much. You know the plans now like the back of your hand and the more you learn, the more you believe in it. You hope Jungkook continues to believe in it, too.

You exit the fitting room, catching the end of a conversation where Seokjin suggests a wholesome weekend for the three men of just dinner and drinks. The two other men agree, and they all turn to you once you make your presence felt.

“All good?” Taehyung asks you.

“Yes,” you bow in thanks. 

“Great. The gowns will be ready at the same time as Jungkook’s suits will be. I’ll just let you guys know, okay?

“Sure,” Jungkook says. “But anyway, we have to get back to work. Thanks again.”

The brothers bid you and Jungkook goodbye, and you head back to the office with not much words said. Jungkook seems less frustrated, but the worry you feel suddenly returns. It’s the thought that maybe he doesn’t feel supported, that maybe what he’s doing isn’t enough, and that more than that, it's him choosing to deal with all this on his own, not even looking to his friends to comfort him.

Jimin and Soomin meet you for lunch at a restaurant that Saturday afternoon. The drive from Busan took longer than expected, they said, but you say you don’t mind. They’re visiting you like they always do every month, regardless of how busy they are back in their hometown, which was your home for a few years, too.

You were in the same class; your mom worked at the school, which was the only reason why you were able to attend a prestigious one in the first place. Even when you moved back to Daegu, you remained in touch with them. Despite the distance, none of you wanted to just let the friendship fade, and even when they had to stay back and you made a life out here in Seoul, they made sure to visit you as much as they could.

They’re why you were excited for the weekend to come and now, you’ll be enjoying a hearty meal, getting your nails done after, lounging at your apartment, and then heading to a club for a night out, which you only do whenever they’re around. 

“So, has the boss situation improved?” Soomin asks, her eyes soft and laced with worry “Or should I storm the jerk’s house and give him a piece of my mind?”

“It has,” you chuckle. “So no need to call him names or fight anyone. I’m okay.”

“Well, you did call him a grumpy old grinch with nice hair the other week,” Jimin points out. “So… did he get a haircut?”

“No,” you laugh again. “And that was in the heat of the moment. I… I mean, he’s still grumpy but he’s not… as grumpy or unbearable. He’s been—”

“Oh hun, please don’t say he’s been kind and then give him a pass for how he’s been to you,” Soomin reprimands. “Mean people don’t just become nice all of a sudden. And if they do, that’s a controlling tactic - they want you to think they’re capable of change so you’ll soften up to them and then give them a pass every time they do asshole-y things again.”

“You watch too many shows,” you frown, although knowing her statement isn’t wrong; it’s just not something you can relate with Jungkook.

Sure, he hasn’t been the nicest, but he also hasn’t been the meanest. He’s just been… him, you suppose - a bit in the middle; frustrated at worst, quiet at best, stoic on most days. He does seem to live in his head a lot, and while you won’t go so far as characterizing him as kind, he definitely hasn’t been insufferable these past few days. 

“I’ve just dealt with too many assholes, ___,” Soomin corrects. “They’re all the same. Men are shit.”

“Except for Jimin,” you correct.

“Except for Jimin,” she concurs. 

“I accept the honor,” he bows. “But seriously, ___. How has it been? You… you seemed really sad last week and I would’ve driven here then if we didn’t have that work emergency.”

“I’m okay, I mean it. I’ve experienced worse,” you try to assure them.

“You do know that having experienced something worse doesn’t mean it’s fine for you to experience something bad again, right?” Soomin points out.

“I know, but it also means that I know my threshold for bad behavior,” you say. “Jungkook was in a lot of stress and I did mess up. But I think he’s making up for that.”

“By apologizing, you mean?” Soomin cocks an eyebrow.

Your sigh tells her that’s definitely not what Jungkook has done. 

“Well, he approves my minutes and reviewed reports much quicker,” you reason. “And he doesn’t comment as much. But actually, I think he just pities me. And that’s worse.”

“Why would he pity you?” She asks.

“I don’t know. Maybe because I said that a tree fell on our roof and that mom got injured the weekend before my mishap,” you explain. “And then he found out how early I start my day just so I can get to him on time. He’s made adjustments after those and I… I think he’s guilty or something. And he’s just not being his usual angry self around me to make it up to me.”

“So in short, he’s still kind of an asshole,” Soomin says, prompting Jimin to snort and you to pout. “He could always just apologize if he’s guilty and realized he should treat you better.”

“Some things aren’t easy for other people to say, you know?” You say softly. 

“That’s not an excuse,” she points out.

“It’s an explanation,” you counter. “Or one of them, I guess. I don’t know him well enough, but it’s better to think that he’s a decent person who just struggles with emotions than someone who willingly makes people’s lives difficult. I mean, that’s easier to manage and accept.”

“If that helps you deal and he’s indeed improving, then maybe I won’t have to storm his place then,” she smiles, taking your hand and kissing it as she likes to do. 

She knows your habit of pressing your nails onto your skin, and she always said she likes to remind you that you deserve gentleness, too; she’ll give it if you can’t give it to yourself. 

The rest of the afternoon goes as you planned, with all the banter you’d expect from your best friends amid the pampering and then the chick flick in the background as you get ready in your tiny apartment. 

You smile at your reflection in the mirror. The high-waist trousers and sleeveless top ensemble is a refreshing sight for you, as you only really dress up like this for a night out. You’re in your usual pencil skirts and blouses otherwise, and in jeans and tops or oversized jumpers on a normal day. 

Soomin’s done your makeup and Jimin compliments you as he looks on, and soon enough, they’re ready as well to head out. 

“Where’re we going?” You ask from the passenger seat as Jimin navigates the busy streets of Seoul on a Saturday night. 

“Some new restaurant the guys discovered,” Soomin responds. “I think it’s not far from here.”

“Okay, good. Hajoon’s been texting, asking what time we’ll get there,” you tell them. 

“Geez, you were already with him last night. Tell him to be patient,” Jimin rolls his eyes. 

Soomin laughs from the backseat as she teases that he’s just being jealous, to which he points out that he just hasn’t seen you in a while so the man can wait. And you assure Jimin that you’d gladly skip a night with Hajoon to be with your best friends, no questions asked. 

You get there eventually, and you immediately spot the group because of the laughter coming from their table. There are four men; the two women are Soomin’s friends, which is how you got involved with Hajoon in the first place. You met some time last year and you’ve been hanging out with him since then - among other things - and you’ve been enjoying it, given the simplicity and lack of drama when he’s not being moody. He’s a warm body who knows how to use it and you’re a good type of relief, as he’d said; there’s really not much more you need as you just try to survive through life and make something out of yourself in however way you can. 

Hajoon waves at you from his seat, gesturing to his left to say he’s saved that spot for you. You head there after greeting your other friends, with Jimin and Soomin following you. 

Right as you sit down and greet the man next to you, you’re caught by surprise when he kisses your cheek and snakes his arm around your waist. 

“Hey, I missed you today,” Hajoon hums, smiling at you the way he did last night and this morning; it definitely wasn’t this sweet when he left for a work trip last month.  

“I… saw you today,” you frown, earning you a chuckle. 

“I know; I was still thinking about you, though,” he says. 

You give a smile - as genuine as you can make it - and then turn towards your friends to your left who are trying to hold in their laughter. 

You order a beer after he offers you a glass of wine, and then go for the pork belly when he says the salmon here is good. 

“Just craving for meat, that’s all,” you tell him. 

“Is there anything else you want? Just let me know, okay?”

You hum your yes and then turn back to your friends after Hajoon makes jokes with his.

“Since when was he this sweet to you?” Soomin whispers with wide, curious eyes. 

“Since never,” you reply. “I mean, we’ve never been affectionate outside of bed…”

“Is anything else different?” Jimin wonders, careful not to bring attention to your conversation.

You look back at how things were before Hajoon left and how it was when he was away. Nothing seemed different. You hung out at his place before he flew out, then you messaged each other every now and then during the one month he was abroad. He was more interested to talk, but given the time difference and the pressure and stress you’ve been under the past weeks, you didn’t bother much, neither did he. 

But you also think back to last night - how he picked you up from your apartment, which he’s never done before, and how he prepared a luxurious dinner. He made you breakfast this morning, too, whereas you both usually just sleep in in tangled limbs and then separate once you wake up.

“He cooked me fancy stuff but I just thought he wanted to show off what he learned during his cooking masterclass,” you shrug. “And well… he seemed sweeter than normal.”

“Maybe he hooked up with someone while he was away and he’s guilty about it,” Jimin suggests.

“He didn’t say anything about it and he knows I wouldn’t mind,” you say. “We’re not exclusive, even if I don’t hang out with other guys.”

“Maybe he’s over the fucking and wants to do the loving bit now,” Soomin offers. “I mean, he always seemed more into you than you were into him.”

“He’s hot and decent when he’s in a good mood; that’s all I need,” you admit. 

“But honestly, that’s probably it,” Soomin continues. “I think he’s hinting that he wants to be more.”

“But I don’t want to,” you whine. “I’m not ready.”

“You’re 30! When are you ever gonna be ready?” Soomin whisper-yells.

“Never!” You pout now. “I mean… Not with him.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to tell him soon, then,” Jimin sighs. “Before it gets messy. And you hate messy.”

“What if men just don’t have feelings?” Soomin wonders out loud. “That way, you can’t hurt them.”

“So that way, they can hurt you?” Jimin points out. “No. I’m not letting any men hurt either one of you, okay? I love you both too much.”

“We know,” you and Soomin say at the same time. 

“But I agree with Jimin, ___. You’re gonna have to let that man next to you, who’s thankfully deaf, go. And then just find another person who can give you what you need,” Soomin continues. “Like, uh…” 

She looks around the semi-packed restaurant to find some random man to just point to, her eyes widening in awe as she spots a table close by with the type of men she was just thinking about. 

“Like them.” 

You laugh at her, not taking her seriously, but still, you look towards the direction of her cocked head, only to feel your throat dry up and your heartbeat speed up. Your eyes widen in reflex as they meet the piercing gaze of the man who’d given you a headache for weeks. He also happens to look unfairly handsome in his white top and slicked back hair. 

“Shit, I would totally go for them,” Soomin adds, “and I only even like men a quarter of the time.”

Your best friends look at you as they wait for a response, only to see a nervous look on your face, as if you’re seeing a ghost or something, and the way you turn to them and stutter almost seems like you are.

From the other table, Jungkook pants quietly. You finally looked his way, and he didn’t know what to expect your reaction to be - maybe a bit of shock, but definitely not this worried. Granted, you’re out with your friends at a restaurant that he and his friends frequent. It’s not the type of place they’d normally go for - this is a lot simpler, less private, and more accommodating than the exclusive restaurants and hotels they go to for dinners before heading to a club. But Jungkook loves their pork belly; he orders it every week, and tonight, he was craving for this specifically before going to a private party of one of Taehyung’s clients. 

Jungkook had seen you when you sat down, and he’d been taken aback when the guy to your right immediately kissed your cheek; it seems he’s barely let go of your waist since then, too. Perhaps the man is your boyfriend - and Jungkook doesn’t know what made him think you wouldn’t have one - but it also seems that the one to your left is into you, too, at least based on how he smiles at you sweetly but rolls his eyes at the affectionate guy to your other side. 

But other than the embarrassing obvious affection that both of them are directing at you, what made him lose his senses is how you look, and you’re even more beautiful than he imagined. Your hair is styled, your makeup is bolder than usual, and he won’t even start with how you’re dressed. It’s a lot more skin than he’s used to - you’re out, after all, and if he’ll go by what your companions are wearing, he supposes this is your stop before heading to some club to party, too. Whereas when you’re at work, you have the skirt and long-sleeved blouse ensemble that you wear everyday - still pretty, perhaps just a lot more reserved than what he’s seeing now. 

He can’t take his eyes off you, even as you entertain your suppose-boyfriend, even when you engage in hushed conversation with the man and woman to your left, and even when you stare back at him, the initial shock now wearing down to a look of curiosity. Perhaps you’re wondering why he keeps glancing at you, too.

“I told you he’s got it bad,” Taehyung laughs from the other side of the table. 

He’s noticed how his friend hasn’t said much in the last 10 minutes, his gaze directed at the loud table close by. One glance and Taehyung knew why. 

“Well, we told him,” Seokjin corrects. “He only ever acts out when he’s threatened and he’s apparently threatened by his pretty assistant.”

“I’m not acting out,” Jungkook scowls, finally breaking the staring contest with you.

“You’ve never been this much of a jerk,” Seokjin says. “So yes, you’re acting out.”

Jungkook ignores them, his eyes turning back to you, and finds you downing two shots of tequila consecutively, then using the beer as your chaser. His knuckles unconsciously clench when your suppose-boyfriend scoots closer, whispering something in your ear, his lips grazing your skin. 

Jungkook exhales deeply, trying to get a grip of himself. He’s acting foolishly. You obviously have a life outside of work, and it obviously includes going out for dinner and drinks with friends, having a boyfriend, and enjoying your youth the way he is. There’s a world outside of the routine you’ve both created, of the silence you both share, and the time you spend together, unknowingly learning about each other without meaning to, without wanting to.

“___,” Soomin calls your name one more time. 

“Huh?” You answer, finally tearing your eyes away from Jungkook, who’d unfortunately captured your attention after you noticed he was there. 

You’ve been used to his impeccable looks in his fancy suits; you’ve even gotten used to his tank top and sweatpants post-workout outfits every morning, and while you’re still not immune to that look, his night out wear fit for a party leaves you more choked up than normal. 

Maybe it’s the black jeans that you spot as he sits on the edge of the couch, or the white button-up top with the rolled sleeves up to his elbow, or his haircut that makes him look a little more mature. Maybe it’s all that and the way he’s gazing at you, the look in his eyes something you can’t quite read. Perhaps like you, he’s surprised to see you here the way you’re shocked that he’d chosen this place to eat; it’s not exactly a fancy restaurant you know he likes eating at. 

But he’s here, and so are you, and suddenly you feel exposed, as if the world outside of work that you’ve kept to yourself is baring open to the man who stands at the center of what you do everyday. And you’re not sure how you feel about that.

“I was just saying… those men are pretty hot and they look interested, too,” Soomin wiggles her eyebrows. “ I mean, they keep looking here.”

“One of them is my boss,” you finally say. “Guy on the right. That’s… uh, that’s Jungkook.”

“Holy fuck, hun,” Soomin chokes on her drink. “Why did you leave out the part about your rude boss being a fucking god?”

“Does it matter?” Jimin scowls. “He’s still rude.”

“It’s different when the guy’s hot. It makes the anger more intense, you know?” Soomin says. “Attractive people elicit more passionate feelings sometimes.”

“Excuse me, that’s not why I was angry,” you pout. “He was really being unfair.”

“Well, he was. But I think my point also applies,” Soomin argues. “I’d just like to warn you that workplace hotties are a menace. Except for Yoongi - he was heaven sent. ”

“Ah, the man who could’ve been,” Jimin sighs. “We at least knew he wouldn’t hurt you. He didn’t seem like the type.”

“Yeah, this dude over here is hot but he’s mean. And that’s your type,” Soomin smirks.

“Can we… not talk about this while he’s there? And while this other dude is right next to me?” You glare at your friends, especially at Soomin whose insinuation wasn’t lost on you. “It’s so… weird.”

“Hey, we’re here for you, okay?” Jimin softens as he looks at you. “Just let us know if one of them makes you feel uncomfortable. We can always just stay at your place and watch horror movies until morning and you and Soomin can lose your voices from screaming and then I’ll lose my hearing because of it.”

His words make you laugh. There’s a tenderness in Jimin that you’ve never heard from anyone else before. Even when he’s telling you to stop yelling because you live for the thrill of a jumpscare, he says it so tenderly while laughing before pulling you both in his embrace. 

“I’m okay. I’m just… I don’t know, probably just not used to seeing him somewhere that isn’t the office or his home,” you reason. “And I feel a bit exposed, I guess. This is my world and his is… right there.”

You wrap your arms around your body subconsciously, realizing only you’d done it when Jimin asks if you’re cold, offering his jacket then taking it back because Hajoon might smack him or something.

You turn it down, knowing you actually feel hot more than anything. You’re dressed up and definitely dressed in less, and somehow having Jungkook see you like this is oddly making you shy, perhaps a little too conscious.

“Just don’t mind him,” Soomin advises. “It’s a restaurant. You obviously have a social life and he can’t fault you for it, nor make you feel weird about it. Just focus on us, okay? Or on Hajoon, if that’ll happen.”

You follow her words and try to block out Jungkook. You do slightly nod at him, as well as at Taehyung and Seokjin just to acknowledge their presence, but you continue on with your meal, as the dishes arrive soon after. 

The pork belly is a winner; you’ll probably come back here for that alone. You do manage to dodge Hajoon’s attempts at feeding you, and your other friends engage with the three of you at the other end of the table. It’s going well for the most part, until Hajoon starts to act a little wary, a little tense.

“Hey,” he says, leaning close to you. “The guy on the other table has been looking at you all night. It’s kinda annoying.”

You glance at Jungkook’s table and he looks away when you do. “Oh, just don’t mind him,” you wave Hajoon off. “Maybe I remind him of someone or something.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you feel him tense even more, as you look up and see that he’s staring down the man on the other side. Hajoon’s had a bit to drink, and you know he tends to be cocky and irrational when he is. You groan once he shakes his head, saying he’s gonna give “that stranger” a piece of his mind because “he can’t be looking at my girl like that.”

The initial annoyance you feel turns into panic once he stands from his seat and storms to the other table. You follow him, with your friends just looking in worry. His friends are more encouraging of what he wants to do though. 

“What the fuck is your problem staring at my girl like that?” Hajoon mumbles, acting all tough when he’s never threatened nor confronted anyone like this, even when he’s drunk. 

Jungkook seems taken aback. Perhaps it’s the aggression he didn’t expect, or maybe it’s finally having to acknowledge your presence in the restaurant, just in an unfortunate way. 

“Your girl?” He scoffs. 

The way the man is speaking to him is quite annoying, but he also knows your boyfriend is slightly drunk, so he dismisses him because Jungkook doesn’t need this drama tonight, especially not in front of you. 

Hajoon hates the way this stranger is looking at him and not taking him seriously. He’d seen how he kept glancing at you, perhaps trying to get your attention away from him, and he’s really had enough. His words are slurring but this is the courage he needs to stand up for you. You’ve said before how unwanted attention makes you uncomfortable, and he’s gonna do something about it before the man gets to try anything with you. 

“Yeah, my girl. You seem to have a problem with that, don’t you?” Hajoon grunts. 

“My only problem is you making a scene right now,” Jungkook shakes his head. “You’re drunk and insecure and you’re embarrassing yourself in front of your girl.”

Not that you expected him to back off, but you didn’t actually think that Jungkook would further press Hajoon’s buttons. The man is drunk and insecure and indeed embarrassing, but getting told so is a blow to the ego, especially in your presence. And so you’re not surprised that this just makes him angrier, and since you’ve never dealt with this version of him before, you don’t know how to pacify him.

You didn’t actually think that Hajoon had a daring bone in his body despite being the way he is, but when he attempts to lunge at Jungkook, you’re left in disbelief. You’re quick enough to pull Hajoon back before he lands a fist on the other man’s face, but he’d been worked up enough that he hits the glass of wine on the table, knocking it over and causing the drink to spill on Jungkook’s thin white top. 

“Mr. Jeon!” You shriek, pulling Hajoon back more forcefully before pushing him to the side so you can get ahead. 

You take the napkin from the table and wipe Jungkook’s wet clothed torso, slowing down immediately as you realize what exactly it is you’re doing. 

“I… uh,” you stutter, standing straight up and mirroring his questioning eyes. 

It was a reflex for you, considering that you constantly make sure that he’s dressed impeccably. 

“You know him?!” Hajoon asks in disbelief, tugging on your hand now so you’ll turn to him.

“He’s my boss, you idiot!” smacking him on the chest as you glare at him. “And you just put my job in jeopardy and for what?”

“Well, what can he do?” Hajoon challenges. “Get you fired because of me? Does he own the company and shit?”

“My father does,” Jungkook responds. “And I’m the Vice President.”

Hajoon just rolls his eyes but you aren’t amused. You glance at your table and gesture for one of his friends to take him, so one of them does. He stands up and pulls Hajoon away before he can do or say anything else.

“I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your head bowed down as you apologize. “I…” 

The mess on his outfit is too much; the red has stained the white top and you know he feels sticky. He looks like he has somewhere to go after this and that makes it worse.

“I– I can call Mr. Ri to get the car in here. I can get extra clothes from your travel bag,” you say, knowing that Jungkook always has a bag filled with clothes for emergency flights or check-ins. 

You get your phone and make a call, telling Jungkook that his chauffeur will be here soon. You glance towards your friends who are still pacifying a drunk Hajoon, and you decide that they can handle all that. Right now, your priority is Jungkook.

You walk out towards the car that’s on hazard mode outside the restaurant and pick out the top that’s most appropriate for a night out, which happens to be a semi-loose black button-up. You head back inside, with Taehyung and Seokjin informing you that Jungkook has gone to the washroom, so you scurry towards there and knock at the door.

“Mr. Jeon, I have your black long sleeves here,” you say as your knuckles tap on the wood. “Just tell me–” 

You’re interrupted by the sudden opening of the door, the sight of Jungkook in his jeans hanging by his waist and his unbuttoned white top catching you by surprise. His hair’s a bit damp and so is his bare torso, as you see that he’s tried to clean the wine off his body. 

You catch yourself looking longer than you should, and you immediately look away as you hand him over what he needs. 

“Please let me know what else you need, sir,” you say, your eyes glued to the pretty wallpaper as you awkwardly stand outside the washroom. 

“Jungkook,” he says, earning him a curious look. “I mean, you don’t need to be formal. We’re not at work.”

You nod, realizing it does sound weird to address him as such in a casual setting. 

“Okay… Jungkook,” you mumble, but even the way it rolls off your tongue is a bit odd. You’re not used to it, and you hope you won’t ever be. 

He closes the door and you take this time to calm yourself down. You’ve been so worried since you saw the glass tip over and mess up his outfit, and given his hot-headedness, you’re a little surprised that he didn’t fight back. He does have a reputation to uphold but even then, stopping himself from punching Hajoon must’ve taken a lot. 

The door opens and you sigh in relief; his outfit still looks good and he’s fully clothed, so there’s no lingering looks this time anymore. You take the top that he gives you, and you take the chance to apologize.

“I’m so sorry,” you start. “I don’t know why he— I mean, he’s a bit drunk and he’s not usually like this.”

“You’re not the one who should apologize so don’t,” he responds. 

“Well, he won’t apologize so I will.”

“You didn’t spill the drink and you didn’t come at me. That was him,” he counters. 

You just shrug, choosing to just concede. “I’ll just return this to Mr. Ri.”

He calls your name before you turn around to leave. 

“I didn’t mean to cause a rift between you and your boyfriend,” he says, much too low and too gentle than you’re used to. “I hope I didn’t ruin anything.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you answer softly. “We just, uh, we just hang out.”

You don’t know why you feel the need to correct this misinformation. Maybe you just want to remind yourself because you’re not anyone’s anything; hearing Hajoon claim you as yours made you want to just create that distance even more.

Jungkook wants to push it, to ask more. The man clearly acts like he’s your lover, given the physical affection and the way he tried to stand up for you. But there’s a bit of shame as you state that you and the man “just hang out,” and there’s that wonder he feels - how can you be with someone without being with them, and if turning away people who are clearly into you is a tendency you have. There’s Min Yoongi, after all, who’d liked you enough to remain as your friend when you needed one despite how he felt.  

“Okay then,” Jungkook nods. “And your job’s not in jeopardy. Don’t take responsibility for a stupid act you didn’t do.”

You bow in thanks, not much used to this side of him that’s understanding and even calm. You suppose he’d seen you worry about your job, had seen you look embarrassed over something that you didn’t even do, and perhaps he saw the discomfort over how Hajoon was talking about you. 

You’re about to walk out of the hallway when his call of your name stops you again, prompting you to turn around.

“About earlier… did I… did I make you feel uncomfortable?” He asks, the worry in his voice surprising you. 

You debate over playing it down or telling the truth, but you go with the latter. 

“A… a little,” you admit, looking away. 

You hear him sigh, and there’s a look of guilt in his eyes as you turn to him. 

“I’m so—”

The footsteps of another diner in the hallway disrupts him, and you both make way so he can use the washroom, too. Perhaps you and Jungkook had taken so long, and you don’t want others to conspire about what’s happening, so you walk out and tell him again that you’ll just return his clothing to Mr. Ri. 

From your table, Soomin and Jimin watch the awkwardness of your parting of ways, with you scurrying out the door and Jungkook returning to his seat with a deep sigh before glaring at Hajoon.

“He does sound and look like an asshole, aside from being hot,” Soomin observes. “That’s totally ___’s type.”

“Are you saying she likes her boss?” Jimin asks incredulously. 

“I’m just saying that’s her type, not that she likes him,” Soomin corrects. “There’s a difference. I still hate him for making things hard for her. I wish he would stop treating her like that. You and I know she won’t quit anytime soon. Especially because he’s a Jeon.”

“I know,” Jimin sighs. “I wish we could protect her from all this, too. But she’s always done what she wanted to do. And we wait for her to tell us when things are hard; we just hold her hand whenever it is.”

“That’s all we can do, I guess,” Soomin responds. “Sometimes though I wish she’d just… let someone else do more than just hold her hand, you know? It could’ve been Yoongi, or even Hajoon before all this mess. It could’ve been you.”

“You know that’ll never happen,” Jimin laughs bitterly, with Soomin knowing exactly what he means. “You’re only ever just her friend or her lover; you can’t be both.”

Soomin hums in agreement, as she’d seen you draw the line with the men you’d come across with. You’d make it clear if friendship is all you want; you’d be straightforward if it’s just sex you’re seeking. You give either just your heart or your body and you’re always careful not to give both. There are parts of you that you don’t want to share, that you don’t want to expose to them; there’s a kind of hurt that you don’t want to experience. 

They watch you walk back inside and then head to their table, where you sit next to a buzzed Hajoon who still has half a mind to look at you guiltily. 

“I think I’ll head back home after this,” you tell the group. “Kinda not in a partying mood anymore.”

Your other friends apologize on Hajoon’s behalf, proceeding to ask you if that was really your boss and if he’d threatened your job because of it, remarking that it would be such an asshole move of him to do that or to even get mad at you for something you didn’t do. 

You come to Jungkook’s defense; he didn’t say anything to that effect at all. Perhaps you’d been the unfair one who assumed that he would - that he’d demand that you apologize, that he’d use this against you. 

“He’s… not like that,” you say, meaning it. You turn to your best friends who have disagreeing looks. “He… he tried to apologize for making me feel uncomfortable,” you say softly. “No one’s ever done that before.”

“Look, ___,” Hajoon starts, but you cut him off. 

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” you sigh. “I’ll just pay my bill and head out.”

You, Soomin, and Jimin all pay accordingly and then leave the restaurant, with you turning to Jungkook and his friends, bowing as a form of goodbye.

“Hey, why don’t we buy desserts at a convenience store and have our own party at your place?” Jimin suggests as you all settle in his car. 

“That would be nice,” you hum. “This outfit wouldn’t be such a waste then.”

So that’s what you do, as your best friends treat you to all the snacks you love - a usual occurrence, really, as they used to do that back in Busan to cheer you up during the days when you were feeling sad. It’s one of the things that you allow them to spoil you with and they take advantage of that, as you go home with weeks’ worth of goods for you to enjoy.

You also picked up some drinks on the way, so you play some music and dance around with your wine glasses and take shots in between. It’s too early to be drunk but 11PM might as well be 3AM. You’re all seated snugly in your tiny couch as you watch some variety show on mute, laughing at the hosts' antics even if you can’t hear anything. 

“Tonight wasn’t so bad,” you huff, leaning on Soomin’s shoulder as you doze off. “Both of you are all I need. Thank you for never disappointing me.”

They know you don’t always let yourself be this sentimental. They also know that when you do, all you want is for them to listen and to hold you. And that’s what they do, as you eventually clean up and fall asleep on the mattress with them, the events from earlier slowly fading away.

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[toruro]

— ✧ mr. nice guy

pairing. hong joshua x reader

description. you thought your next-door neighbor was just being polite when he offered to help you carry in your boxes the first time you saw him, but as you adjust to your new home, you start to notice that joshua’s nice in other ways too: nice eyes, nice smile, nice arms, nice fingers, probably nice di—okay you get the point. but just how long can you go with lusting after your neighbor before giving in to your very much not-nice desires? well, lucky for you, joshua also isn’t nearly as much of a gentleman as he likes to let on.

✘ tags. smut (18+), neighbor!joshua, joshua's muscles deserve their own tag tbh, oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption (NOT drunk sex), petnames (sweetheart mostly :pp), biting, spit kink, unedited as always ✘ w/c. 5.3k ✘ a/n. i have had this idea in me for a WHILE so it's good to finally get it out! honestly i feel like the story is a little rushed but whatever

there's a gentle voice coming from in front of you, but with the way you’re holding the large box up right in front of your face, you can’t see who’s speaking. “do you need help with that?”

muscles straining and sweat beading down your skin, you manage to squeak out a quick, “yes please!” a wave of relief washing over your body as you feel the box grow infinitely lighter as this man’s arms wrap around the side. “thank you so much,” you say, still gripping onto the box as you slowly walk over and lead it to the front of your apartment door a few feet away. setting it down carefully, you look up so you can finally see the face of the angel who saved you so much trouble.

“no problem," he replies politely, and as your eyes flicker up, you're taken aback by his kind smile. "you new here?"

"did the moving boxes give it away?" you joke and the man cracks a hearty laugh.

"you got me there. i'm joshua," he tells you, and you think to yourself that there can't be a name for fitting for the man. he points over to the door across from yours. "i live right there, so i guess we'll be seeing each other a lot. what's your name?"

your name falls from your lips in a haze, internally thanking your lucky stars for finding yourself an apartment that was not only close to your work but also in close proximity someone as nice as joshua. "i guess so," you reply looking down the hallway where the movers had left the rest of your boxes. "i don't suppose you'd be down for another few boxes?" you ask hopefully, wincing at the way you're so shamelessly asking for help.

joshua chuckles at your expression and you feel that the ground might as well swallow you up whole. "it'd be my pleasure. it's not often i get new neighbors who are under the age of 50."

"i've noticed that...is there a reason the average age of the residents of place is like 60?" you ask curiously as you walk down to the end of the hallway to the boxes.

"not sure," joshua says. "i guess this place is just popular with them. not that i'm complaining. noisy neighbors are never a problem for me." he gives you an awry look, and you're a bit confused before he's jokes, "unless you plan on making that something i have to worry about now."

"no!" you reply a little too quickly, flustered by the way joshua is so easily coming up with conversation. it seems as if he's so smooth with everything, and with the way you have a million thoughts racing through your head—it's a it hard to keep up. "i mean, i don't do much or anything really," you clarify, reaching down to pick up one box while joshua goes to grab the other side.

"good to know," joshua tells you with a smile, and you try not to focus too much on the way that he grunts slightly when lifting up his end. "you're always welcome to come over to my place for a drink or something," he suggests as you begin walking over to your apartment.

smiling as you set down the box, you adjust your shirt and look up at him. "i'll think about it."

you, in fact, do think about joshua's offer. you think about it a lot.

you think about it that night when you carefully unpack your boxes. joshua's a nice guy, you think to yourself, because it's not often you come across such a person who's willing to give you an hour of their day to help carry heavy ass boxes for someone they barely know.

you think about it two mornings later when you're walking down the hallway with your groceries for the week only to find joshua about to enter his own apartment, clad in a tight fit t-shirt and gym shorts. his skin glows with layer of sheen sweat, his light brown hair pressing against his forehead in an oddly fitting mess. his breath is slightly labored when you call out his name instinctively, turning to look at you with bright eyes.

"hey, how's it going?" he's polite. joshua is polite, and a gentleman. you almost feel guilty when your eyes dart to the arms when the muscles flex as he brings up a hand to grab one of your grocery bags, insisting that it was his pleasure to help you out. something along the lines of, "i just got back from my work out and i can't help a pretty lady with her bags?"

pretty lady. you hope he can attribute your burning cheeks to the hot sun and not his words, because holy shit does he have your stomach doing tumbles. after all, joshua's just being polite right? right?

you think about his offer again three evenings later. you're just leaving your apartment to go on a walk, and joshua seems to have some people over, five boys knocking on his front door, where there seems to be more boys on the other side. you quickly glance at each other as you slip out of your apartment, hoping to hobble off quickly before things get more awkward, but then there's that door opening and you hear joshua's voice and you falter in your tracks for a moment at the way he calls you name so smoothly.

you turn around to face him as his friends slowly shuffle into his apartment, joshua leaning against the doorframe with a bottle of beer. he holds it up and raises a brow and fuck—if you don't stare at the way the bottle is perched between his perfect, thick fingers—fuck. "you wanna join?"

you want to. fuck, you really want to. so why do the words, the simple phrase of, "yeah sure," fall flat on your tongue? maybe it comes from the embarrassment of lusting over a man you hardly know. from the humiliation of letting your eyes dart towards his arms, his hands, his fingers, joshua's collarbone and the little adam's apple that bobs up when he takes a sip of his beer.

"i, uh, i was just going on a walk right now," you tell him, your voice sounding meek and you want to cringe at the poorly planned response. joshua chuckles, and you aren't sure why.

"you don't wanna come? aw, you're hurting my feelings," he coos.

"no! that's not what i meant," you say quickly, averting your gaze from joshua because the way he's peering down at you right now—god, you don't know if you want to go up to him and fall straight to your knees and suck him off or turn around and run away out of pure humiliation. "i just—you know—walks. go on them every day," you try to explain haphazardly.

"no it's okay, i get it," he replies before looking into his apartment when one of his friends yells out his name, "it's bit rowdy in here anyways, so i don't blame you." there's an awkward sort of silence that settles between you and the air is thick as you debate if you should turn around and leave right about now. "i don't suppose you'd want to stop by after your walk?" he asks hopefully, and you figure this is his way of giving you a second chance.

this time, you look up at him and smile. "i'll think about it."

except this time you actually think about, not just sit and wonder of the possibilities. as you pace down the street, your one hour walk that usually make time fly now seems to feel like the longest sixty minutes of your life. you come down to two possibilities at the end of it:

1. you don't show up and joshua thinks you're an indecisive bitch

2. you do show up, have a good time, and things are left at that

of course, putting it like that only really leaves you with one choice to choose, that being the latter. knowing that your own conscience won't let you live it down if you don't end up choosing the latter, you march up to joshua's apartment with a slowly diminishing confidence. yeah, you're eager to see where this night will take you, but you're also not necessarily confident that you're anxiousness won't betray you.

it's just that joshua is so nice and so kind and he has you thinking so many thoughts that your words always seem to jumble up into an incoherent mess whenever he speaks to you. all you can really ever think about when you see him is—well—all of him, which includes his nice smile, his nice muscles, his nice—okay, shit, you really need to control yourself.

doing what little mind-clearing exercises you can cram into the time it takes you to get up to your floor, you're pretty sure your breath is labored from how hard you're thinking alone. before you have any time to let yourself back out of this, you're rushing up to joshua's door, knocking maybe a little too desperately.

in the next moment, you have time to listen in on the other side, the room being quieter than you remember it being an hour ago. all that can be heard is some soft shuffling that can only be identified as joshua's footsteps, and before you know the door is opening, the one and only standing in front of you.

"there she is," joshua greets with a smile, "low and behold!"

the tips of your ears burn at his welcoming, stepping back a little. "h-hi," you murmur quickly, the responses that you planned in your head earlier seemingly fading away in your mind. "is that offer for a drink still on the table?" you ask hopefully, chewing on your bottom lip as you wait for an answer.

"'course it is," he replies. "i was waiting for you to come to your senses," he continues, stepping to the side so you can slip off your shoes and step in, realizing now that all his friends have left leaving only you two. you follow in after him, your eyes glazing over his apartment. it's got the same layout as yours, as expected, only it's mirrored. it's slightly messy, presumably from the mess his friends left from before, but the set up is neat and you can tell joshua has a good eye for color.

"i like those paintings up on the wall," you comment, pointing at a set of wall art hung above his sofa. joshua looks up at it before smiling softly and nodding, walking to the kitchen as you trail behind him.

"thank you, one of my friends that was here earlier got it for me. he's great at interior design, if you're ever looking for someone," he tells you, reaching for the fridge and pulling out a cool bottle of beer. "here," he says, handing it to you before grabbing a bottle opener and popping off the cap for you. holding it out in front of you, you're able to watch his hands up close—they're big and veiny and fuck, you'd be lying if you said you didn't press your thighs together slightly.

you aren't sure joshua notices, and if he does, he doesn't make it obvious. "thank you," you murmur softly, letting him step back and put the opener away before he leads you to the living room. you settle down on one end of the couch, and instead of opting to sit on the arm chair, joshua just sits on the opposite end. throwing his hands back so they lean on the arm rest and the back of the couch, his biceps are stretched out and on display thanks to his short sleeve t-shirt.

"so," joshua begins as he grabs his own beer and brings it up to his lips, "how do you like it here?"

you take your own sip of the cool liquid before responding, "it's hardly been a week...but i like it. it's peaceful, and i like the neighborhood."

"yeah, the people are nice," joshua agrees. you're nice, you think. "how was moving in?"

"i'm still honestly unpacking," you chuckle to yourself, feeling more comfortable now that there's casual conversation being initiated. "i have a bunch of clothes at my friend's place that i still need to pick up," you explain, leaning back into the plush cushions.

"you need help bringing them in? i can lend a hand if you need."

your stomach tumbles at his generosity, but you shake your head. "ah, you've already helped me so much, i don't think that's fair."

"oh c'mon," joshua counters, "you can pay me back with something if that'll make you feel better."

you raise a brow. "now how would i do that? you got venmo?" you tease.

"i was thinking of something a little less materialistic," joshua replies with a roll of his eyes, and you think you might just combust on the spot.

you aren't exactly sure what he means by that until you bring your eyes to meet his and that's when you see it. how his eyes darken, how he gulps even though he hasn't taken a sip of his drink, how he shifts in his seat. suddenly, you're dawned with the realization that on your walk, you left out the option for a third possibility, a.k.a. you do show up, have a good time, and then have joshua rail you into the next dimension.

gaining confidence, you cross your legs over each other and turn to face him better, deciding to go along. "huh..." your voice trails off. "i'm not quite sure what you mean by that joshua," and you swear you hear his breath hitch when you say his name.

he regains composure so quickly it's hard to tell you even threw him off guard in the first place. "i'm not really sure actually. you have anything to offer?"

you shrug as you set down your beer at the coffee table by your feet. "i make a mean maple cake, if you're into sweet stuff." joshua perks up at that.

"i do have a sweet tooth," he mumbles to himself, pretending to be in thought as he follows your movements, pushing his bottle to the side. "that's gonna take a while though," he says solemnly, "you're gonna have to get the ingredients...make the cake...bring it to me...sounds like a lot of work for you..." his voice trails off, and then he's tossing you that look again.

joshua figures you're both definitely on the same page by now and there's no point leaving the tension between his go unrelieved for any longer than he has to, and before you know it he's reaching one strong arm over to grab your wrist, pulling you into his hold so he can kiss you fiercely.

his lips are soft, but the way he's pushing against you, sucking, nipping, running his tongue along you is all but gentle. with joshua's arms leaving your hands and instead running up the sides of your waist, pulling you in roughly, you gasp into his mouth, allowing him the chance to slip his tongue against yours, tasting you, feeling you, being one with you.

one hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head slightly so he can push his lips against yours harder, his tongue sinking deeper to explore the caverns of your mouth. when he pulls away, you both share heaving breaths of air, mouths connected with a string of saliva before he's leaning back in and capturing you once more.

his other hand on your waist gently nudges you and you're falling back onto the cushions, head hitting one of the pillows as he crawls into the space between your legs. inching up his knee until his thick thigh is pressing up against your pounding core, easing the tension that he's been so carefully building up.

joshua noticed it. the way your eyes lingered on his arms, his fingers—noticed the sparkle in your eyes followed by the immediate embarrassment of your own thoughts. he's not sure if you're just easy to read or if he's just good at reading you but whatever it is, you're an open book to him and fuck it's so cute it has him going crazy.

you whine against his lips, rocking into him to the best of you abilities while you're pinned beneath him. there isn't much space to move around in the little corner of this couch, but you hardly pay mind to the inconvenience when joshua peels his lips and thigh away from you. "ha—no," you gasp out, hips chasing the relief the hard muscle provided. joshua chuckles, shaking his head as you pout.

"relax baby," he coos, and the pet name has you shivering under his touch as he inches his body down the length of the couch until his upper body rests between your thighs, face dangerously close to your gaping cunt. "be patient, okay?" he orders, and you nod your head quickly in agreement. joshua traces his fingers from your knees achingly slow up to the hem of your denim shorts, slipping under the cloth only slightly, leaving you nearly begging for more.

"josh—shua—fuck, more, please?" you choke out, voice broken from pure desperation. joshua clicks his tongue at you, flashing a warning look which shuts your lips real tight as he reaches up to unbutton the shorts. you quickly reach down, helping him out, but he swats your hands away.

"can you keep your hands up for me sweetheart?" he asks so fucking sweetly you almost forget about the mischievous glint that flashes in his eyes.

"uh-huh," you mumble, slowly lifting your hands above your head, gripping onto the armrest of the couch to brace yourself. in the meantime, joshua unzips and yanks your shorts off, tossing them to the side so they fall somewhere in the room. staring down at your now exposed and soiled panties, you hear joshua suck in a breath.

"all this for me sweetheart?" he murmurs, bring two fingers up to lightly pinch your clit, causing you to jerk against his hold.

"all for you," you affirm nearly immediately, squirming when he takes one finger and tuns it down the midline of the fabric. joshua's eyes are gaping down at your core, nearly in the shape of hearts as his mind races with the idea of how you're already so undone, so desperate, so far gone for him. slowly but surely, he hooks one finger on each side of the waist band, peeling your panties off and exposing your dripping folds.

joshua nearly groans at the site of you clenching around nothing, saying, "fuck baby, you're gonna soak my couch."

"s-sorry," you stutter out, averting your gaze so you don't have the chance to look at the mess you've made.

"don't apologize...it's hot as hell." he pauses, then looks up at you. "you mind if i get a taste?"

"god, fuck yes—i mean no—wait," you babble, "i mean—shit—i don't mind, not at all."

joshua's heart swells at your response, waisting no time dipping his head between your thighs and pressing his tongue flat against your folds. you cry out at the warmth and friction, instinctively shooting one hand down to grab at his hair. within seconds, he's pulling his head back and giving you a stern look. "what'd i say sweetheart?"

"hands, sorry." you quickly pull your fingers back and return them to their hold on the couch.

"there you go sweetheart," joshua mumbles before diving back in, wrapping his arms under and around your thighs to hold you in your place. you can nearly feel his muscles bulge against your leg and you twitch against his mouth at the thought. meanwhile, joshua runs his tongue up and down, going and back and forth between hardening at and circling it around your hole before moving up and wrapping his lips around your clit and flicking his tongue over it.

the erratic, unpredictable movements have your back arching off the couch within minutes, moaning out words like, "feels so good joshua," along with quite curses as you attempt to keep your voice down. it hardly takes a few minutes before you're writhing under him, joshua pulling back with his lips and chin coated in a sticky wetness with a grin.

"you look so pretty baby," he compliments, using one hand to continue to rub between your folds and circle around your clit, never halting the shoots of pleasure through your spine. his eyes are flickering between yours and core, and then holy shit, his lips contort for a moment and then he's spitting on your already soaked pussy and the act is so demeaning and dirty and hot that you hardly comprehend the next words that come out of joshua's mouth. "so do you wanna cum now, or on my cock?" he offers, and you figure there's a right answer and a wrong one, but you don't have the brain capacity right now to think about which is which.

pouting, you respond, "c-can't i have both?"

that must be the right answer, because it has joshua beaming at you, smiling against your pussy as he slips two fingers into you and presses his mouth on your clit. jerking your hips up, joshua follows the swivel of your lower half, matching the thrusts and flicks of his wrist to your own movements so his fingers are hitting deeper and deeper every time. you think you're close, but when he's curling his digits inside of you and sucking hard on your nub you know it's coming.

you don't have time to warn joshua about your impending orgasm but the way your walls hug his fingers so fucking tight is warning enough, and he speeds up both his fingers and the flicking of his tongue to the point where you're on the brink of tears as he finger fucks you through your high. humming in appreciation at the way you call out his name as you do, he releases your clit with a filthy 'pop' sound, fingers taking a moment to gently slip out of you as you come down from your high.

"you did so good angel," joshua praises, pressing kisses along your inner thigh, smearing your skin in the mixture of your own cum and his saliva. your breaths are far too erratic for you to respond, but the way you look up at him with heavy eyelids through thick, glossy lashes tells joshua all he needs to know. unraveling his arms around you, he bring himself up and guides your legs to wrap around his bare torso—shit, wait, when did he take his shirt off.

gaping at this man who could quite literally be god, you can't even comprehend what's going on until you're being carried into a whole new room, joshua throwing you onto his bed, the messy covers bunching up around you. he stands at the edge, unbuckling his belt at a painfully slow rate. quickly scrambling up from your laying back position, you crawl to the spot in front of him and help unbutton his jeans. "already wanting more, huh?" he teases, but doesn't push you away, rather putting his hands to his side to watch you do the work yourself. you don't respond, taking this chance to grab both his jeans and boxers, pulling them down in one go.

joshua's cock springs out, thick and beaming with a bead of precum that dribbles off the tip, lightly hitting your face in the process. your mind is foggy and you look up at him with dreamy eyes as you absentmindedly open your mouth and close your lips around his bulbous tip, lapping at the precum. joshua doesn't hesitate to grab at your hair and pull you off of him, and for a moment you're scared you've done something wrong, getting pulled out of your haze.

but then you catch the way his voice drops an octave when he says, "slow down," and your worries are put at ease. "we can do that another time. wanna feel your cunt." another time. those words ring in your head. there's going to be another time. you ponder on that thought for a moment and then you recall the next of what he says and you look up at him with these doe eyes that joshua finds so fucking adorable, he'd be surprised if you don't see his dick twitching.

crawling onto the mattress, your limbs intertwine in a hot mess so that one of your legs is hooked around his torso while the other rests between his knees under him. it's a slightly awkward position, but the thought hardly crosses either of your minds once his fat tip his sliding between your drooling folds teasingly, before you're begging, "c'mon joshie, stick it in, please—need it now."

now joshua isn't one to usually give in—he's good at maintaining his patience. yet, the way you mumble out his nickname as if there isn't a single thought in your pretty head has his mind going numb, losing all semblance of self control until he can't help but sink his full length into you.

and joshua knows he's big, and looking down at how you nearly shake beneath him, it's confirmed that this is a lot for you. he almost feels bad at the way tears stream down your cheek, considering pulling out and pressing kisses along your face until you're ready to try again but then you're saying his name like that—"joshie, joshie, joshie"—and he just knows that neither of you would be satisfied until he's balls deep inside of you.

"takin'—god, fuck—takin' me like a pro, huh sweetheart?" joshua finally finds it in him to grunt out with out his voice wavering from the way you hug him so well.

"yeah-huh," you nod along, holding up your hand in a grabbing motion, joshua not hesitating to hold your hand in his so you can squeeze it tight while you work through the initial stretch. "you're so big, joshie."

"yeah," he breaths out a laugh. "you like it?" he groans, slipping out around halfway, giving you a chance to breathe, before he's shallowly thrusting back into you. "like me stretching out this pretty fucking pussy?" you nod dumbly, and your jaw gyrates as you try to form a response but no words come out, strangled syllables morphing into pornographic moans as joshua begins to drag his cock out further each time, plunging it deeper and deeper as he goes on.

"oh my god," you're finally able to babble, tits bouncing back and forth as joshua begins jamming his hips into yours with increasing force. the sounds of your wet pussy colliding with his cock bounce off the walls and if it isn't the filthiest thing you've ever heard, you don't know what is.

joshua latches one arm to your hip, the other continuing to hold yours as he pins it by your neck and shifting his body over you so his head hovers above yours. this new angle his his cock ramming hard down onto a spot that has you biting down onto your lips and crying out, "fuck, joshie!"

"you're squeezing me so tight," joshua moans as you rake one hand down his back. "suckin' me in, god i can't get enough, sweetheart," he grunts out, dropping his head down to bury it in the crook of your neck as he continues to pound into you. your body feels as if it's on fire in the best way possible, and with the way joshua is pressing open mouthed kisses onto your sticky skin has your hips lifting to meet his sharp strokes.

you feel as if things can't get any better and then you feel his teeth bite down into your flesh and your eyes roll to the fucking back of your head as the pain quickly shoots to pleasure when he sucks on the spot, the patch of skin throbbing—pulsing. "'m so close, joshie," you moan as he pullings away, looking down at your fucked out face. your eyes are droopy and shutting tight every time he fucks into you, mouth slightly agape and never fully closing.

he isn't sure what urges him to do it but then he's shoving three fingers into your mouth and joshua thinks that this might just be true love at the way you don't even hesitate a second to circle your lips against them and run your tongue against them. drool dribbles down your lips as you suck on his fingers and joshua's mind is consumed with the thought of your mouth doing that to his dick and then you moan around his fingers at the way he twitches inside of you and—fuck—he's getting close too, but he just can't allow himself to cum until you have.

slipping his fingers out, he uses the same, slick hand to toy at your clit as you clench around him tighter. "you said you're close?" he groans. "fuckin' cum then, cum around my cock how you wanted to, sweetheart."

it's the way he's gazing down at you endearingly. it's his fat cock pushing itself deeper inside of you, forcing you and your gummy walls to make room for me. it's the filthy words that spill from his lips, laced with his sweet words of praise. it's all of it that comes crashing down on you, the waves of pleasure hitting you over and over and over again until you're reduced to nothing but a thrashing, crying, whining mess with the words, "joshie, fuck," falling from your lips.

you're so lost in pleasure of your second orgasm of the day that you hardly notice it when joshua slips out of you himself, fervently jerking himself off until he moans out your name and there's thick white ropes of cum painting your stomach and clit 'til he's practically milked himself dry.

all the echos through the room now is the sound of your hiccups and joshua's gasps for air until he's finally falling on top of you, head resting on your chest.

"you are so not a gentleman," you gasp out between breaths as he slowly lifts himself off of you, rolling to your side once you unwind your leg from around his hips. he furrows his eyebrows at you with a frown.

"what do you mean?" he whines. "that's literally like my trademark."

"well change it," you grumble, running your fingers over the mark on your neck from where joshua bit you.

"i'm sorry," he murmurs, turning over to you to look at the bruise against your skin. "did i hurt you?" he asks, eyes wide with worry. you want to kick your feet at the way his concern has butterflies coursing through your veins as if this man didn't just rearrange your guts.

you push his face away when he leans down to pepper your neck with kisses, shuffling back onto you. you aren't sure how much longer your poor heart can handle this. "it's too late to be a gentleman now..."

"is it though?" joshua asks with a smirk, looking down at you.

"dunno...guess you just have to prove to me that you're worth the title."

"does this mean i get more chances?" joshua grins.

you roll your eyes. "maybe...it depends on what you have planned."

"well," joshua drawls out. "i'm thinking a nice date...then maybe you, me, my bed and—"

i guess you can tell where it goes from here.

a/n. half the time i think i dont know how to end fics without some stupid dialouge bc wtf.... anyways if u enjoyed pls like and reblog!

[lalovi]

I can't sleep so have this

Multiple x Reader

Synopsis: what they do when you can't sleep

Warnings: Not proof read

"What are you even still doing up?" They'd ask, sleepily rubbing their eyes.

"Can't sleep," You'd respond.

They had a semi annoyed look on their face before sighing.

"You're not even trying." They lay back down beside you, wrapping their arms around your waist and resting their head on your shoulder.

"I am..." you said.

"No you're not. Your eyes aren't even closed." They lazily trace the features on your face with their finger before giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

"Now close your eyes, dummy."

RANPO EDOGAWA, CHUUYA NAKAHARA, Muichiro, Sampo Koski, Aventurine, HEIZOU, Lyney, TIGHNARI, Cyno, WANDERER, KEQING, Prune Juice, Pitaya Dragon, Longan Dragon

"Hm? Are you still awake? At this hour?" Their expression shifts into one of worry.

"Oh I just can't fall asleep. That's all.." you say in an attempt to shake their concern.

"No no no, that simply won't do." They get up from the bed and start walking towards the door.

"Where are you going-?" You lean up on the bed.

"Don't worry about it too much. I'll be right back." They give you a soft smile that you can barely see in the dark before exiting the room.

It doesn't take long before they come back with a cup of freshly made tea.

They take a seat on the bed next to you and hand you the cup.

"Now... is there anything else you need? I can pick out a good story to read... or maybe youd prefer somthing else?"

ATSUSHI, Tanjiro, AYATO, Ayaka, Kazuha, KAVEH, Lynette, NEUVILLETTE, Sunday, Robin, Misha, Jing Yuan, Fu Xuan, Lingyang, Yangyang, Pastel Meringue, PURE VANILLA, Affogato, Clotted Cream, Red Velvet

"You're still up?" They ask, entering the room.

"Clearly you are as well..."

They cross their arms and lean against the door frame. "I am, but at least I'm actually doing something. What are you doing, staring at the ceiling?"

Your expression shifts into one of annoyance "What else am I supposed to do?"

They sigh before getting onto the bed and laying down on your lap.

"If you're going to pull an all-nighter, you might as well do it with me."

Dazai Osamu, Yanqing, XINGQUI, Sethos, Venti, Hu Tao, Furina de Fontaine, Shadow Milk, Royal Margarine, Licorice

[tesscourtes]

saw you had asks open, not a drawing request but wanted to know if there was any more story to your human bill’s punishment-for-weirdmageddon-is-to-turn-weak-human au, I really like it (sorry if you explained this a while back, I only just watched gravity falls😭I’m a late-comer to the fandom)

it’s just superepiccool to me, how are dipper and mabel about him being human now? Soos n Wendy, Stan and Ford? What was it like for them (especially Ford) when he just turned human? What was it like for Bill?

oh hey don't worry, I haven't really talked much about the details of the AU like ... ever. I just started reviving it because I got my partner into the show (they are also a new fan! yay, new fans! Funny enough I had no idea TBOB was coming out so the timing was mad exquisite.) and they have just been an amazing help shaping my messy thoughts and coming up with new, fun plots! It's also nice to know there's someone out there interested in it, so thank's for asking! Now that I read TBOB I want to change the premise a bit, but the core is still the same.

Let me tell you this AU is silly. I'm aware Billford is toxic and there are many corners to dive into to picture their messy relationship. But I kinda wanna keep the spirit of the show here and make it equally as fun as it is disturbing. Given that Bill canonically is trapped in endless Therapy gives me even more food to work with, he just out there being toxic and people repeatedly telling him to cut it out.

I'm not gonna go into too much detail because I'm actually working on the first comic chapter for this AU, but regarding the characters: Each of the Pines, as well as Wendy and Soos, are not happy seeing him, but individually grow more accustomed to him and with him. I guess going from "most accepting" to "least accepting", Mabel took it the best. I wouldn't say she was quick to forgive, but quick enough to give the guy a chance. And I honestly have to say that, although this is 100% a Billford AU, there's so many plot ideas for just Mabel and Bill and their amazing, chaotic shenanigans. Put these two together and the stories basically write themselves. Wendy is pretty similar, and the most chill in actually helping Bill figure out human stuff.

Naturally, Ford took it the hardest. I'm aiming for slowburn here, haha. They got to figure out some stuff that I'm so ready to put onto pages... Ford is a lot of emotions. Confused, angered, curious... Meanwhile Stan is Bills biggest hater. (There is a lot of bullying in this AU) He just keeps up with it because his Family makes him. He's very protective and tries to kick Bill out several times. Soos sticks with Stan, but he's also Soos and has a big heart, so in Bills eye, he's very gullible and a target he can mess with easily.

Dipper is not a fan either, he has a hard time adjusting to the triangle just getting to ... be there. He's suspicious for the most part and Bill has to try hard to get on his good side. But honestly he might be more upset with Mabel (and later on Wendy) for making friends with Bill so easily, even though he knows that's just their nature. I just recently started thinking about Gideon and how I'd like to include him, but nothing worth mentioning so far yet.

With Bill himself, one my favorite parts trying to portray so far is how he's dealing with his new mortality. He adjusts to the body fine, he knows how to navigate flesh, but he has a hard time accepting that it's his body. His new prison, essentially. If it's gone, he's gone. If he treat's it like shit, he feels like shit. Then we add the psychological aspect of things. And more importantly, we add Ford to the equation. When I tell you, that demon is experiencing psychological damage here, and it's fully his fault. TBOB really pointed out to me that I need to dive into his obsession with Ford. How do you even get a man you fumbled so bad, to even acknowledge you again?

I love yapping about this AU, thanks again for giving me the grounds to do so anon! I'm an insecure writer so it'll probably take another hot minute to choose which script feels best to draw out, haha. But I'm glad you seem to be up for the ride!!

[c0nfessions-of-a-writing-freak]

Do It For Me

Pairing: Marcus Lopez Arguello x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: After pissing off Brandy and finally getting what was coming for you. Looking for a quick way out, your eyes luckily land on the new kid. Thinking on your feet, you swoop I'm in for a little kiss to try and ward off the wolves that were on your trail.

Bingo: @eclipsingbingo with the square 'Fake Dating'

*Gif does not belong to me

Your slightly heeled boots clicked through the hallway quickly, walking at a steady pace so as to not let on to how much worry was flooding through your body. You hadn't meant to piss off Brandy, scratch that, you hadn't meant to piss off Brandy enough that she'd get her whole cheerleading squad to go after you.

That's why you were hurridly walking down the school corridor, not even bothering to look over your shoulder as you could hear their pig-squeal-laughs as they followed. As you went you could see heads start to turn when they heard the parade of cheerleaders, their eyes only setting on you after they realised what was happening. The more heads that turned, the more you began to realise just how doomed you might be.

It was only when your eyes landed on some guy you had never seen before. He stood tall as he opened his locker, shoving something into it that vaguely looked like some teddy bear that had poorly been impaled. Your eyes quickly scanned over him, trying to put together the puzzle pieces as to who he might be.

You have never seen him before in one of your classes, which could just mean he was in the year above but you didn't think so. He seemed too fresh, unaware of what he was getting himself into to be familiar with this place.

That was when you remembered what Billy had been telling you. Some new kid was being recruited into this school. Some child killer. The orphanage killer, or something like that.

You had no idea what this killer was meant to look like. Billy had told you stories but even then he hadn't said anything about the boy's features. How could he? He had never seen him before last night or whenever it was that the green-haired boy slunk off with his skateboard and too much excitement flickering through his bones.

You couldn't help but count this as a win as you realised this was the boy who set that orphanage on fire. Never had you thought you would say those words in your head.

Changing the course of your walk, you head straight for the new kid, placing a heavy hand on the locker next to his head and staring up with a large smile. Eyes were instantly on the two of you. If someone hadn't been staring at one of the two of you before, they definitely were now.

"Look who finally decided to show up after my months of begging." You exclaim, saying the first words that come to mind to make it seem like the two of you had known each other previous to joining the school. His head snapped towards you when the slam of your hand had first sounded, face full of shock which now morphed to confusion at your words. "You could've told me you were coming."

"Do I know you?" The boy said, voice not as loud as yours. It seemed he was trying to keep his words on the down low so as to not embarrass you in case you had made a mistake. How sweet.

"Don't be silly," You laughed, your voice calming but still loud enough for any onlookers to easily hear. Lowly though, your teeth bared in a smile to try and not draw too much attention to your next words though, you say, "Just play along."

He blinked almost owlishly at you in return as if your intentions still weren't setting in. You rolled your eyes, your irises landing on the teddy bear that had in fact been stabbed in his locker, a not stuck to it. You sniffed at that. Seems like you were right.

"Oi, cunt," One of the girls--one that you had never bothered to learn the name of--yelled from not too far away, her and her pack catching up to you.

That was the only kickstart you needed to reach up and grab onto the boy's face, pulling him down so he reached your height and smashing your faces together. Your lips moved quickly, almost in sync as he finally realised what was happening.

Reaching a hand up to place on your hip, the other awkwardly hanging in the air before cupping your cheek, he angled your face up slightly so it would be easier for him to kiss you back.

You could hear the sudden stop of shoes as the group after you stopped a few feet away, watching with wide eyes as you kissed the boy's home killer. Someone whistled, probably some lowlife or one of your friends who were also lowlifes. You didn't care though, not when you heard the muttering or the laughing, not when a horde of footsteps kept walking, acting as if nothing had happened.

It was only when the bell rang did you pulled back, taking a big breath of air in as you looked up at the boy through hooded eyes. Hopefully, you didn't share any classes with him or this was going to be an awkward few hours.

"I'm Marcus," The boy says, blinking at you with a smile on his face as if he couldn't believe what just happened.

You returned his smile, grinning up at him sharply. "Hi Marcus, you just saved my arse." Slowly, you push yourself off the locker you had been leaning against, ready to go about your day as if nothing had happened. Marcus didn't seem to like the sound of that.

"What, no name?" He teased, shutting his locker and trailing after you, not caring if the storage unit was actually locked. "I did just save your arse, according to you."

"Don't you think it's a bit too early for me to give you my name?" You joked, walking down the hall without stopping or waiting for him to catch up.

"Well, you did kiss me," Marcus pointed out, grinning cheekily as he fell into step next to you. "I think that you should count for something."

"I don't kiss and tell," You said simply, leaving him to wonder for a little bit longer.

"Well, if you're not going to tell me your name," He started, pulling out a folded piece of paper from his blazer pocket. Unfolding it, he turned it around and showed it off to you. "Could you at least tell me where my next class is?"

You take one look at the piece of paper and say, "Fuck."

[seventeencryinghorses-blog]

Dude I keep trying to do my book report but the book is so boring bro. I feel bad saying that since it's based on a true story but I'm trying my best. I might be cooked though it's due today. Have this that I wrote instead.

Charm You to Jealousy

Shanks x top male reader. Smut. Reader gets jealous because Shanks is handsome. Spoilers for Ep 1112. This isn't dubcon Shanks just likes being whiny. 3,180~ words.

“Haha..” Shanks laughs awkwardly as he catches the woman that lunged onto him. Everyone around him fawns over him, worrying over if he’s going to be okay or that he doesn’t need to be the one to defeat Kid. He’s flattered, he really is, but he needs to get going! He doesn’t mean to underestimate Kid, but he doesn’t overestimate him either. He holds the woman to his body for a moment before pulling back and walking to the dock. He turns back to look at them “Don’t worry, our enemies are famously weak.” The redhead says cheekily. It’s only when his expression lands on you that it falters ever so slightly. There’s a smile on your face as you look at how beloved he is, the way women he’s most likely been with before you swoon over him, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. It’s when he’s about to say bye to you, to try and show he hasn’t forgotten about you, when his eyes widen and his observation haki gives him a vision of an unfortunate future. Panic fills his mind and he takes one quick glance at you then quickly jumps off to save everyone. You watch him go, it’s to be expected. How admirable he is, you love him for that; plus, your comfort in the moment is much less than the lives of countless. You look down at the women that were with him, resting your chin on your hand. They’re pretty, the type of women Shanks was into before you two started to date. You don’t have their large breasts or their soft features, nor the body meant to connect with someone the opposite gender. You aren’t one to feel too insecure about that, of course. It’s been proven enough that Shanks is more than into you. You look out into the ocean, watching as your love saves the day once again. An ugly emotion blooms in your heart, unwelcome and dark.

…………..

After everything is done, he finally gets a moment to rest his mind. Looking at the sinking ship of the Kid pirates, he sighs. “Kids these days get too strong too fast.” He says as he walks further onto the Red Force. Shanks expected Kid to have gotten stronger, but enough to destroy multiple ships at once was unexpected. It’s then that your expression comes to mind, the smile that didn’t reach your eyes. He looks around a few times after he remembers but doesn’t see you “Shit.” He mumbles to himself. His crew overhears this and start to snicker despite Shanks’s small panic.

“In trouble, Captain?” Yasopp asks teasingly and Shanks sighs as they sail back to the island’s dock.

“Hopefully not too much..” The redhead says, but before he can go look for you inside the ship, people call for him. ‘Dammit.’ What’s worse, he feels your gaze on him. It’s harsh, and he resists the urge to shiver. He needs to go find you, but he should calm his subordinates first. He hops off of the ship and, again, a woman hugs his waist. She clings to him happily and he puts his hand on her hip, trailing it up to pat her back. “See? I told you everything would be fine.” He tells everyone.

“You took care of him so easily! We have to have a celebration!” One of the men say and Shanks, for the first time in a long while, actually feels not that excited for a celebration. He’s always excited to drink, of course, but the longer he keeps you waiting the worse things are going to be.

“A celebration for beating such a weak pirate?” He asks, raising a brow. “You sure you aren’t just using me as an excuse to party?”

“Nonsense! Our chief saving our island and people is always a cause for celebration!” The man responds and everyone cheers.

‘This isn’t working out.’ Shanks thinks to himself. “That sounds great but I should get going.”

“Ehhh? Already?” They all yell. “We wanted to thank you for saving us though!”

“Yeah, sorry. No need to thank me either, it’s my fault a big shot came to this island.” The captain continues to try and escape from the people, picking up a few women to place them further back. Beckman watches this, amused. He almost considers letting the redhead deal with this himself, but alas, he is the first mate and he is supposed to help the captain.

“C'mon everyone, let the Captain rest.” Beckman tells them, patting one of them on the back while he motions for the other townspeople to leave as well.

“Yeah, don’t tire him out now, he’s gonna need his energy!” Lucky Roux says knowingly with a laugh, making Shanks cringe.

“Well, okay. See you later Chief!” The women and men say, a few giving him a kiss on the cheek. Once they’re gone Shanks sighs in relief, then slowly trails his vision over to you, sweating as he notices an even more insincere smile on your face. You narrow your eyes sinisterly and head inside the ship. He curses and quickly makes his way inside too.

“We’ll save you a seat, Captain!” Lucky yells to him.

“Yeah, and we’ll make sure it’s cushioned too!” Yasopp adds and they all start to laugh, voices fading as Shanks follows you. He trails through the halls and eventually finds you, grabbing your shoulder to turn you towards him.

“Heyyyy!” He says with a friendly voice, “You know they don’t mean anything to me, right, love? Well not ‘anything’ but not like you-” He’s interrupted as you grab his collar and pull him into a rough kiss. He takes a step back, and you pin him to the wall. He shivers slightly as your tongue slips into his mouth and his into yours, intertwining the two muscles. Shanks grips onto your arm and groans softly when you lick the roof of his mouth. With that, you pull away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you for a moment. His face flushed as he catches his breath, voice full of anxious hope. “...Is this a sign you’re not that mad at me…?” The redhead asks, panicking as one of your hands slips under his shirt and grips tightly onto his waist. Your eyes narrow and your smile widens.

“What do you think?”

_______________________

“Hah~ nnGH~!” Shanks groans into the pillow, clutching the sheets beside his head like a lifeline as you slam into his lifted hips mercilessly. He’s already cum twice, you once, sweat glistening on his back as the muscles tense under your hand with every thrust. Your other hand goes to his hair and pulls his head up, his mind swimming as you lean over him.

“Don’t hide now, thought you loved the attention?” Your voice rumbles into his ear and his dick twitches, his eyes rolling back for a second when an especially hard pump hits his prostate harshly.

“s..sorry soRRy- AHh~!” Shanks moans with a gasp as you spank him, the hand on his back moving to squeeze one of his pecs.

“No, there’s nothing to apologize for. How could I blame my lover for being himself? Even if he’s an attention whore.” You pinch his swollen nipple harshly, sending pain and pleasure through his body. “I’ll give you the attention you crave, enough to feel it when you show yourself off to everyone else.” Shanks thinks about being in front of his subordinates, trying to hide the pain in his lower half and cover any marks made by you. The feeling of him squeezing around you makes you chuckle. “You liked that, didn’t you? The thought of them finding out their strong chief got fucked like a slut then tried going to their celebration like it didn’t happen. Wonder what those girls would think, knowing that. They probably think or even remember you as some dominant man. Fantasizing about you when the truth is you’re addicted to getting used by your boyfriend.” You grab and lift his torso up, wrapping your arms around his waist so you can pound into him so hard he forgets how to think; only able to let out a weak groan as he cums for the 3rd time. All that comes out of his mouth are moans and whines now, unable to form words as tears form in his eyes from overstimulation. That doesn’t matter though, you know he can keep going. “Is my pretty slut tired? You can give me one more, right?” You ask and he shakes his head, gasping when you press a hand on his lower stomach. “You can, don’t underestimate yourself.” Shanks whines as you suck a hickey into his back, whispering dirty praises into his ear until he’s aroused enough to get hard again. “There you go~” He feels like he’s about to collapse as you kiss the back of his neck. “C’mon, be good for me, Captain.” You stop to grind into him, making him groan at the feeling of your dick massaging his prostate. Your cum is pushed further into him and his dick twitches in pleasure.

“(Y/n)..” His voice rumbles as his eyes close, mind clearing up just enough to say your name.

“Turn your head.” You tell him and press your lips against his, his eyes going half lidded with a mewl as you start to thrust again. He’s kissing back despite his foggy head, instinct from making out with you. It’s not done yet though, and once you feel like he’s had enough time to calm you start getting rough again. He’s struggling to keep himself up, your arm wrapping around his waist the only thing keeping his hips lifted.

‘I’m.. gonna pass out.’ Shanks manages to think. ‘Feels too good…!’ He curses that he didn’t take care of Kid sooner, instead choosing to calm the nerves of the people first. Out of character for the captain, but he can’t think rationally when he’s getting fucked to an inch of his life and his love is upset with him. His orgasm starts to form inside of him and he pulls away from the kiss to pant. He’s gonna die, he’s gonna die and it’s because he’s too handsome and charming to be unpopular. Your voice reaches his ears, but his brain can’t make it out very well, just knowing that it’s you behind him. At least you’re the one that’ll kill him, this might not be so bad. He lets out a gasp when you twitch inside him then grab his dick. "W-Wait wait!” He’s able to cum untouched, but he’ll need a bit of help this time. He grabs your wrist, weakly tugging to no avail as you start to jerk him off. Shanks looks back at you with teary eyes, pleading.

“Shh, it’s okay. Just this last time. After that you can go to that party and pretend you’re a perfect handsome man. For now,” It doesn't work. You tighten your grip and he sobs. “I just need you to cum again for me.” He looks forward, tears streaming from his eyes as he feels himself reaching that peak again. Finally, he lets out a loud broken cry as he shakes and spasms around you. “Fuck you’re so pretty like this.” You coo into his ear as it rips through him like lightning, pain and pleasure filling his body. You can’t hold back longer either, the urge to cum into him again filling your mind. Your grunts mix with his weak whimpers, so slutty and vocal for you. “I-I want you to remember this, everytime someone puts their hands or eyes on you with want, I want you to remember how easily you moan for my c-cock.” You grunt out, ending your sentence with your dick shooting cum into his warm walls. You don’t know if he heard you say that, but you know his body will remember for him. After a while of catching your breath you pull out of him, a lewd sticky noise accompanying before seeing your cum flow out of him. “Fuck, what a sight..." You mumble, burning the image into your head. Sweat glistens on his back and his head spins before he goes limp. “Ah.” You lay him down and turn him over onto his back, your breath catching in your throat. His hair sticks to his forehead, tears staining his face and his lips swollen with kissing and biting. There’s hand marks on his waist and hips, bite marks around his swollen nipples. He’s completely wrecked, his closed eyes opening just to look at you for a few seconds before he manages to give a weak smile; then he passes out. “Oops.” You exclaim, then look at the clock in the room. At this rate he’s gonna be late, but looking back at him you doubt he can go in this state; even if the thought is slightly nice to think about. Just a bit. Plus, your body is also a bit exhausted, to be honest. Love conquers all, though, and you get off of the bed and onto your feet; picking up your unconscious boyfriend to clean him up as best you can. It’s a bit difficult when he’s unconscious, but you make sure to use warm water and lots of care. He stays asleep the entire time, which isn't too surprising since he can sleep through most things; though he does make cute hums in his sleep when you rinse off his hair and snores when you’re drying him off. Once he’s all cleaned up you change the sheets quickly and place him onto the bed. It’s a good thing you’re strong, Shanks isn’t light by any means. You stand there, staring at him. ‘Is he.. gonna be able to go like this?’ You ask yourself, seeing his burnt out body. ‘I’ll go see Hongo just in case.’ As soon as you step into Hongo’s office he tosses icepacks and ointments to you.

“Here.” He’s too used to you and Shanks’s antics to be unprepared or surprised, especially when he could hear his captain’s moans while walking through the hallway to get to his office. “Seriously, I don’t know if I should be impressed with him or you that you guys manage to make that much noise. We even put soundproofed it too.” Hongo says with a sigh.

“I’m just that good.” You gloat jokingly, holding the items in your arms.

“Yeah, well, we don’t need to know to this extent.” The doctor replies and you laugh a little. “I don’t know how rough you were with him, but people are gonna be disappointed if the captain doesn’t go.” Your eyebrows furrow s the consequences of your actions settle in. “Don’t make that expression. He’s grown, he knew what he was doing.” You tilt your head in confusion but Hongo just waves you off to figure it out yourself. It’s when you get back to your shared room when you put the pieces together, could it have been on purpose? No way, right? Shanks is on the bed, snoring loudly. You walk over and put an icepack on his neck, causing him to jolt awake.

“Cold!” He yelps, coughing afterwards from the strain of his voice. You hand him a glass of water, he takes it and gulps it down. “Thanks, sweetiepie.” You stare at him and he’s confused. “What, do I have something on my face? Other than handsomeness, of course.” His voice is raspy, but you still catch the slight nervousness.

“Did you make me jealous on purpose?” You ask him and he quickly avoids eye contact. “So you did.” He scratches the back of his head.

“I didn’t think you would get that jealous.” The redhead mumbles and you resist the urge to shake him.

“I knew it was weird, you were leaning into those kisses and you didn’t need to put your hand near her ass either.” You pinch the bridge of your nose as Shanks laughs anxiously. He pats his lap.

“C’mon~ It’s not that big a deal. Plus, my hand was an appropriate distance away from her ass. I would kn-” You grab and squeeze his nose harshly. “Owowow sorry sorry, I couldn’t resist the joke!” If he wasn’t already a wreck you would’ve bonked his head by now.

“You’re going to the banquet.” You state, letting go of his nose.

“I want to, but I’m a little.. well..” He motions to his naked body covered in marks. “I’m getting old too, my hips hurt like hell. I wouldn’t be surprised if you aged them.”

“I said earlier that you would go, yeah? So you’re going. I’ll carry you over there like a pretty princess if I have to.” You tell him and he gets a serious look on his face as he actually considers the pros and cons of being carried like a pretty princess. The pros are he doesn’t have to walk over there and he can just use you instead of having to get up, the cons are that his crew would make fun of him and he isn’t sure how the rest would react. “You seemed pretty interested in people finding out earlier.” His cheeks tint slightly at that, he would allow it if it was just his immediate crew but there’s too many reasons to not do the same in front of everyone else.

“I’ll go, you can carry me some other time.” He stands up and almost falls over until you catch him. “Shit, you did a bigger number than me than I thought.” Shanks doesn’t want to leave everyone hanging though. Thankfully, you two are used to this. You put him down on the bed and put ointment on any bigger marks or bites, he shivers a little when you put it on his nipples. Once that’s done you dress him up and ice his eyes and lips. “Can’t see.” He says as the icepack covers his vision, voice muffled by the one on his lips.

“Hold it.” You tell him and he takes over icepack duty, you take the chance to put makeup over any visible marks. Would be easier to just button up his shirt but that would cause way more attention than a few faint marks. Once everything’s done he puts the icepacks down. To be honest, his face still looks like a mess.

“Maybe we can put some lipstick on me, only if you kiss it on tho-” You put the icepack back on his lips. Should be fine, Shanks looks a little rough all the time anyway. Maybe you guys can say it was the heat that did it.

………………

“Woohoo! Congratulations!” Yeah the excuse didn’t work. At least everyone was happy for you, even the women from before. They seemed really bummed at first but they changed their mind when they saw Shanks’s face and the faint marks. They started going to you instead or staring at Shanks in awe. Apparently it’s way more interesting to stare at a handsome man slightly wrecked than try and have him when he’s taken. Love conquers all, even if their curious stares are a little embarrassing.

Yeah I'm cooked lol its due in like 6 hours.

[lo1k-diamonds]

SX Seoul series | Tae's entry 💜 Paramour

PAIRING: idol!Taehyung x (f) reader (you can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: You were born for the quick and glamorous life surrounding celebrities — they had their little dramas and breakdowns, and you were there to clean up the mess. But you have your own secret, and doing your job might get you in trouble with your paramour.

WORD COUNT: 6,2k

GENRE: secret relationship, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: jealousy, drunk driving (❗), dirty talking, teasing, edging, fingering, slight degradation, brattiness, Sub/Dom (Tae), semi-public, exhibitionism, almost caught, unprotected rough sex, nipple play, hickeys and bruises, post-orgasmic crying 👀

A.N. Sorry guys, busy birthday yesterday💜 NCT members make a cameo just because I thought it'd be fun 😋 The paramour stands for the illicit/forbidden aspect of the relationship, not cheating. This oneshot is also part of the upcoming @bangtanwritershq 'Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?' quarterly event!

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

You showed the badge hanging on your neck to the bouncer and waited quietly for him to cross-check your name. You glanced at the glacial blue striped lines above the club entrance while you waited. SX — the letters were so hot, that vapor was visibly emanating from them. You pursed your lips — you preferred them in red. 

You rubbed your arms with a chill; it wasn’t snowing too hard yet, but you wanted to go inside where it was warm. He nodded and let you pass, and you smiled, hurrying inside.

Fortunately, despite having the day off, you were supposed to come to this label party, so they had your name. Of course, you were supposed to have leisurely done your makeup and hair, not rushed when called with a bawling demand, but you sighed.

You didn't bother hanging your coat and just crossed the dance floor to one of the private rooms where the sound was muffled enough for people to lounge, have a drink and talk. Yet instead you recognized the team circling a single armchair, and they moved to let you through with worry and relief in their faces. They were your team.

“Hey,” you called out, and as soon as Una saw you from where she was sitting on that armchair, she threw her arms around your waist, bawling convulsively. You eyed the stylists and makeup artists, holding her back while you mouthed, “Eunbi?”

Everyone shook their heads, and you sighed, giving up on it. She was supposed to accompany Una tonight so you could enjoy yourself for a change, but you were there now.

“Alright,” you said firmly, kneeling so you could look at Una clearly. She was easily overly dramatic, but there was usually a reason for it. “Tell me what's wrong. You know I can fix it for you, just tell me what it is.”

Una didn't hesitate, sniffling and smudging her makeup away as though a firefighter had come to rescue her. “He— He was— all giggly and close to her!!”

She hid again, crying on your shoulder next to your dress strap, that fortunately was black, and you sighed. You petted her head as you mused on how to fix this. He — Winwin, Una’s boyfriend. Her — another girl, inconsequential, anyone, it didn't matter. Una was a star, but she got insecure about their relationship way too easily. 

You were musing on how to diffuse her breakdown when she pulled away to speak through sobs, “Unnie— Unnie—”

“Tell me,” you allowed gently, despite the way she was crying. Even her eyelashes were gluing together, but she was still like your younger sister.

“I want— to giggle— and be close to another man too!”

You did your best effort not to roll your eyes, and before you could get up and direct your team, she gripped your arms.

“Please! I'll behave! Don't send me away, just— I'll ask for only that.”

As if to convince you, she started to compose herself, reeling in her cry and wiping her face.

You sighed, “It's not nice to draw someone into this.”

“Pick someone from the label, someone nice. I'm friends with all of them, it's just pretend, please—”

She was going to start crying again, and you heaved a deep breath, holding her strongly in your arms for a beat. The senior manager would kill you and Eunbi if Una, the exceeds-expectations rising star, was caught upset and leaving the label party, but you weren't sure this option was better.

You pulled away when you felt her calm in your arms, then tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, “Are you sure? You can't ruin someone's night just to make him jealous.”

“I'll behave, I promise,” she sniffled, and to her credit, you did believe her. “Choose someone nice, unnie. Maybe Jungwoo if you find him.”

Your eyebrow quirked at the name, and you nodded, getting up and instructing everyone to make her look like the star she was. You turned to her, “I’ll see to it. No more crying, okay?”

“Thank you, unnie.”

Her smile was angelical, and you only sucked in a deep breath before leaving the room to the main dance floor. The loud house music reverberated along your rib cage while you scanned the room. You saw the managers, the staff, the artists; you knew almost everyone and smiled whenever they greeted you. Your eyes kept searching and stumbled on Winwin, leaning on the wall, talking to a woman. His blonde hair stood out as he played with the straw of his drink, and you rolled your eyes. He was just talking to the woman. If you reacted like that every time your man whispered secrets into another woman’s ear, you—

“Hey!”

A hand on your arm almost startled you, but it was Eunbi, and you squinted, “Where the hell were you?”

“Una’s dog swallowed a toy, I had to rush her to the vet!” 

Poor Eunbi. She was sweating, with her dark bangs gluing to her forehead despite the snowy cold outside, which told you she had raced here. This was turning out to be an even shittier night for her.

“Una texted me, saying she called you! I’m sorry, unnie!”

She bowed frantically, and you placed your hands on her shoulders, “It’s okay, calm down. I was coming here, anyway. Just make sure she doesn’t leave the backroom without calming down first.”

Eunbi nodded and was gone before you knew it, making your eyebrows twitch. Was it because you had managed to sleep a proper eight hours tonight that it seemed to you like everyone was out of it?

Your eyes pinpointed Winwin in the same position, with the same girl, before you kept looking for who you were truly searching for. Your heart skipped a beat when you noticed Taehyung with his friends, chatting casually. His jewelry was sparkling under the club’s lights, with his newly bleached hair in that warm color you liked so much. It fell like waves over his eyes, and you couldn’t help your smile. He looked good no matter what, but that was a favorite of yours.

Finally, you found Jungwoo a bit further ahead. He was hanging out with his close circle in a corner of the room, and you nodded, agreeing with Una. He was gentle and quiet, almost shy for an idol — he’d listen to her story and respectfully help Una through this.

So you made your way to him, smiling up to him when his eyes fell on you. His mouth stayed open, as if he had forgotten what he was about to say, and you smirked, “Long time no see! Can I join you for a moment?”

Taehyung almost did a double take when he saw you pass without even noticing him. His friends were casual enough to not notice and to allow him to train his eyes on you; where were you going?

He saw you sit next to Jungwoo with a huge smile, and his guts twisted. Why were the other people around you leaving you two alone? Why were you sitting so close to him, talking into each other's ears? Surely it was to hear each other above the noise, but it still made him close his fists. Jungwoo could surely take a whiff of your perfume every time he leaned in like that, so close to your luscious hair, and it just wasn’t sitting well with him.

Taehyung was about to walk over, do something he wasn’t exactly sure what, when you got up and walked away. That was enough for him to just go for it, ignoring his friends calls. All he could see was you, standing on your long smooth legs barely covered by a black tight dress, leaning on the bar counter to ask for the bartender’s attention.

“What are you doing?”

You turned, your eyes finding his on sheer magnetism. The corners of your lips raised, “Ordering drinks.”

You knew your mischievousness was slipping through, you just didn’t care. He leaned in a bit more, glancing around before speaking closely to you, “Are you having fun?”

You didn’t hide a grin, your teasing tongue peeking through before you chuckled, “My night was almost ruined, but it’s sure getting better.”

Whatever he was about to say got interrupted when the bartender reached you.

“One whiskey sour, one porn star martini, and one vesper.”

The bartender left and Taehyung didn't waste a second, leaning close to you, “I didn’t know you managed Jungwoo now.”

“I don’t. I don’t manage male stars anymore,” your eyes trailed over his silhouette from top to bottom before settling on his dark eyes. 

Your head tilted to the side, inviting him to say something more, but you could see his hesitation. His eyes were low, not just thinking about what to say, but actually apologetic.

He looked around at the bar, lips twitching before he voiced quietly, “You’re going to drink?”

“I’ll take a taxi.”

You felt his body press closer to yours, if pushed by the other people wanting a drink or just to touch you, you didn’t know. Either way, your eyes fixed on his, acknowledging that the world didn’t exist when he looked at you like that.

But then the bartender placed your drinks in front of you, and Taehyung moved away, pursing his lips. You smiled at the bartender with a thanks, and grabbed the whiskey sour, “Here.”

Taehyung looked down at the drink in your hand pressed to his chest, then at you.

“For your mood,” you winked, before grabbing the other two drinks and walking away.

You handed Jungwoo his drink and left to get Una, and were expecting to leave them together and go on your merry way. Instead, Una insisted you stay with them, and to your surprise, there was no wailing about Winwin. On the contrary, the conversation was pleasant, and you finally had one drink comfortably. It was not the networking you were expecting to get done that night, but at least it was calm and interesting.

At first, you thought Una needed her unnie’s support, then that it would be best you stayed so things wouldn’t get awkward or controversial. However, right about when you wanted to question Una’s decision, she got up and confronted Winwin. Or so it seemed, and you sipped on your drink as she jumped on him to kiss him, barely letting the man breathe. You saw Eunbi race to deal with it and chuckled; fortunately, that was not your job tonight.

Jungwoo shifted in his seat next to you, and you finally turned to him with a smile, about to thank him for his help with Una when he smiled, “Would you like to dance?”

Taehyung’s whiskey sour didn’t last long, but his sourness did. How could it not, when you stayed with Jungwoo after Una left? A part of him stayed rational; you were hanging out with people, and you were around idols all the time. But you weren’t talking to him professionally, not anymore, since Una left to make out with her boyfriend in one of the backrooms. No, you were quietly chatting just the two of you, and Jungwoo was leaning into you again, touching your beautiful hair.

He thought he could hold himself back by looking away and turning a purposeful back on you, but then he saw it. Your hand settled on Jungwoo’s leg and his blood boiled. 

The water bottle he was holding cracked as he closed his fist, grinding his teeth with all the things he wanted to do and say, but couldn’t. You got up with a small head bow and Taehyung smiled, ready to open his mouth and say goodbye to his friends, but then Jungwoo followed you. And Taehyung saw just red.

He shoved the bottle to the chest of whoever was trying to stop him, pushing them all aside to get to you. He gritted his teeth, growling in annoyance; all those people in the way, some trying to grab onto him and talk to him, and meanwhile you and Jungwoo were further and further away across the club.

A familiar voice tried to hold him back with an arm around his shoulders, and he shoved them back. He didn’t care where he was, who he was, or when. He gave no fucks about appearances, no fucks about staying quiet. All he cared about was you, and you were walking out of there with him.

He kept pushing people aside to get outside until he finally managed. His thoughts were incoherent, only getting to you mattered. You’d have questions, you’d tease him, but he didn’t care. He was justified, he—

He stopped right outside the club, noticing you standing with Jungwoo on the curbside. Taehyung opened his mouth, ready to call out for you, when a taxi stopped in front of you, and he staggered. He stopped breathing when you smiled mischievously at Jungwoo and stepped inside the vehicle. 

For a second, his heart stopped.

Then you closed the door and waved goodbye, and Jungwoo waved back before bowing. And Taehyung took a breath, but growled all the same, and ran to get to the label's parking lot where his car was. He drank, so he shouldn’t drive, but he had to confront you about this. He was about to explode and it was all your fault.

As soon as he parked, he had no recollection of driving, only of gripping the steering wheel and shaking as he raced there. The tall apartment complex where you lived stood right before him, and he fought the seatbelt to get free and out of the car. He ignored the snow falling and rushed to your doorstep, fortunately without slipping, only to stumble.

You were there, outside, leaning on the wall and absentmindedly scrolling through your phone. Your eyes raised to his, then put your phone away, turning to the side to dial your code instead. He saw you push the door open, but when you turned to him, he didn’t move. He was so mad before, but seeing you like this made him realize that was not all he felt — he was hurt.

You held out your hand to him with a welcoming smile and when he took it, you dragged him to the elevator. After selecting your floor, you wrapped your arms around his waist and sighed into his chest.

“Una wanted to make Winwin jealous with Jungwoo,” you revealed, safely tucked now that he was holding you back.

He took a second to press his lips to your head, “Yeah, and Jungwoo was totally into you.”

You almost chuckled, but had the sense not to, “Nah, he’s just kind, and took Una’s drama. He was just thankful I was there to help.”

You could feel Taehyung nuzzling the top of your head, inhaling your scent, and you just melted. You thought he’d be mad about the whiskey sour tease, but having him hold you like this told you this was about more than a silly cocktail.

He sighed, “Una is making things difficult.”

You pulled back and grinned, “Well, it happens when I can’t manage my superstar anymore.”

You booped his nose playfully and he searched for sadness or disappointment in your eyes, which he didn’t find, to his relief. “True, but… Maybe…”

When his voice disappeared, you incentivized, “Maybe…?”

“Maybe you should tell her about us.”

Your eyebrows jumped, “Why?”

“Because—” He held back for a second, but your wide eyes were enough to unravel him, “Because Jungwoo looked more than just thankful and if she had stayed with you, he wouldn’t have tried anything.”

You smirked, “How do you know he tried something?”

“He did?”

You couldn’t hold a poker face and laughed, even as Taehyung’s expression was turning from surprise to annoyance.

“Una can't keep a secret and I like my privacy,” you explained, knowing he knew this. You were cautious about the fact, not just who your SO was. You knew how the media and your coworkers worked — you didn’t want to plant the subconscious idea that it was possible. The less suspicion, the better. “Besides… if I did that, then how would I make you jealous?”

Your smile turned sly, and he had no qualms pushing you against the wall, “Is that what you were doing?”

You grinned, “Let’s say I didn’t shy away from the opportunity.”

Despite the irritation in his eyes, it was hard to resist smirking and teasing him. You could barely contain a giggle when he leaned into your neck to bite you in what to him constituted a punishment. But to you, it was far from it. You raised your hand to grab and intertwine your fingers with his hair, and closed your eyes, letting the tingling run down your spine. You bit your lip; it was a matter of time until he noticed that the marks he had left a few days ago were gone, and—

He snorted and bit harder, sucking hard to create new marks, and your grin widened. Even when he squeezed you impossibly, pressing you to the elevator wall and nibbled over a sensitive spot, you didn’t stifle your moans, though you remained quiet. You were melting between your legs with each bite and groan, knowing he couldn’t let you go because he wanted you so much. Your attention was so focused that the elevator doors opened and closed, and you didn’t even notice.

His lips trailed down to your cleavage, and your nails sank deeper into his scalp. You bucked your hips against him, blood running hot in your veins, far beyond the point of teasing. Making him jealous was the least of your concerns; rather, having him kissing and touching you was everything you always wanted, and you’d ask for nothing else.

He squeezed your waist to his, knowing well what your restless hips wanted when they bucked into him, but he had other thoughts. He licked and nibbled across your chest and nuzzled to get under the fabric of your bra, reaching with his tongue for one nipple. You shuddered from head to toe, losing the strength on your legs. He held you and the wall behind you supported you, but you were beyond waiting.

“Tae,” you cooed, torn between pressing him to your chest or pulling him to kiss you.

It didn’t matter what you wanted, because he offered resistance, more aggressively suckling and nuzzling your skin on your other tit. You moaned, sure that you’d be bruised at that point, and it only made you gush more between your legs. You didn’t want him to stop, but if he could do that while fucking you into the wall, that would be great.

Since pulling on his hair didn’t work, you let go of one hand to scratch down the back of his head and nape. His groan gave you shivers, and you licked your lips; you were so ready to consume him in any way he wanted, but he was still stubbornly away.

His coat was heavy, but he only had a silk shirt underneath, so instead of trying to strip him, you let him ravish your chest while one of your hands sneaked underneath his shirt.

His breath shook against your wet skin, and you grinned, knowing that goosebumps covered you both — you, from his licks trying to reach your underboob, and him, from your nails grazing his lower stomach.

“Baby,” you called again, continuing your torture. “Let me touch you,” your voice was sweet, yet he ignored you. He wasn’t able to hide his groans, though, or how you made him shake, so you continued, “I want to touch you, you’ll feel so good…”

Your tone was a playful promise, yet all he did was sink his fingers and teeth more into you. You were sure your chest would be covered in hickeys, and despite your smile, you were getting restless.

So you moved your hand expertly down, squeezing it past his belt, pants, and underwear to find what you were looking for.

You squeezed his hard cock in your hand, and he crumbled a little, groaning louder against your skin. You let him rut into your hand for a moment before continuing, mercilessly, “Feel that, baby? You’re so ready for me,” your voice was sweet, but your smile was sly. Your poor baby was groaning and leaking into your hand, unable to shy away, and you knew you’d win. “To make me yours, right?” He bit harder on your clavicle, and you chuckled, amused by his annoyance. “Look at you pretending to be mad…” You leaned to whisper into his ear, “But you can’t stop fucking my hand—”

He suddenly moved away from your chest and wrapped a hand around your neck. He faced you so closely, your noses touched, but the dynamics weren’t necessarily inverted yet. Despite his hand on your neck or your vulnerability, his hard cock was still in your hand, and you knew how to make him kneel.

And you made that point by jerking him off a bit more, squeezing so hard, you knew it could have hurt anyone else, but not him. All he could do was fight back the pleasure with a mask of indifference, but you saw right through him.

“You’re dying to bury yourself inside me, aren’t you?” Your tone was taunting, and his dark eyes only riled you up more. “Come on, give yourself what you want most.”

He chuckled, and moved to whisper into your ear, “You think that’s you?”

You smirked, “I know it’s me.”

He was already biting down your earlobe; he hummed, “Maybe I should teach you a lesson.”

You let your head fall back to the wall with a laugh, “You’re welcome to try.”

Your laugh didn’t last long; with a hand around your neck, firmly pinning you, Taehyung took the other to raise your dress and reach your throbbing core. You bit your lip while you waited, defiance mixed with anticipation in your glistening eyes. He saw this too, and despite his harshness to pull aside your clothes and underwear and shove two fingers inside you, you could only crumble and pray not to unravel too soon. You moaned desperately, turned on by absolutely everything: his harsh fingers inside you, the sloppy sounds from your cunt, his firm hand around your neck keeping you vulnerable to him, your tits half out of your bra and dress, covered in hickeys, and his stone-hard leaking cock in your hand inside his pants.

His dark eyes on yours were unsurmountable walls, dead set on teaching you a lesson, and you smirked yet again. Despite his rough handling, he knew you loved it, and with just a few bucks of your hips, you’d unravel so fast—

“No,” he pulled his hand away. “Didn’t think I’d let you, hm? Not so fast.”

You didn’t answer; you were ready to beg and coo for more, but his fingers were inside you again in a second, making you keen. Your moans were desperate, and your face didn’t hide all the ways you were falling apart for him.

“You talk so big,” he whispered to your red cheeks. “But you fall so quickly. Look at you,” he whispered, and you couldn’t seem to open your eyes, so close you could pop any second if only he let you. “So close already, how pathetic.”

You only groaned, with your cheeks and chest burning at the insinuation, but as he added his thumb over your clit, you let go. You let your head fall back; you wouldn’t fight him anymore, you wanted him to take care of you in every way, take away every thought and responsibility, and to exist only to feel good in his hands, and make him feel good.

Your moans echoed in the elevator along with your obvious wetness, squishing around his fingers. You opened your eyes to see him, thinking how pitiful you must have looked, basically begging him with every eyelash bat to consume your very existence, but he didn’t budge. 

Maybe he thought there was still defiance left in you. 

“Think anyone else can do this to you?”

He bit his words between teeth, and you could only melt more, shaking with a wave that could start your rapture, if only he didn’t purposefully keep it at bay. You moaned, and let your free hand caress his cheek gently.

“Think anyone else can make you feel this way?”

Your eyes filled with tears, but you were so overwhelmed you couldn’t reply. His jealousy gripped your heart firmly, reaching a deep part of you that needed to feel wanted and desired unconditionally, irrationally. On the other hand, he was still rutting into your fist, edging himself just as he edged you, as though that torture was shared between you both. That was your Tae, your man, fulfilling you in ways you couldn’t even voice.

“Please,” you tried, but it was weak. You were trembling, melting, overheating, functioning at a primal level that could only feel him, nothing else.

You saw in his glistening eyes that he would crack too, especially as he nuzzled your hot cheek, “Think you’ll ever beg for anyone else like you do for me?”

“No, baby, please,” you stammered, supporting your hand on the back of his neck to keep him close.

The corners of his lips curved in the hint of a smile, but then he shook his head, nuzzling you, “No, baby.” He kissed the corner of your mouth, rubbing his thumb over your clit deliciously slowly just to make you keen unashamedly. “You told me to teach you a lesson.”

“I got it,” you breathed.

“Yeah?” He waited, seeing in your concentrated expression how you thought you would come, and he licked his lips. He knew you all too well, he’d keep edging you until he got what he wanted. “Tell me,” he insisted, drawing your attention again. “What have you learned?”

“I love you.”

You opened your eyes to tell him this, and his eyes flickered with a spark. He couldn’t tell if you were teasing him, pulling at his heartstrings, or genuinely crumbled and succumbed to anything that wasn’t your love for him. You smiled at his hesitation, knowing he had good reasons to think twice, and that was your undoing.

His fingers relented inside you, and he squeezed around your neck firmly, “You only learned that right now?” His tone was sharp, and you smirked, unable to stop yourself. Teasing him was too fun, even when you didn’t intend to do it, and having him all over you was the sweetest of rewards. He leaned over your lips, brushing them, “Such a smart ass you are.”

“You love it,” you bit back when he didn’t let you finally kiss him.

Your heart was confused between submitting to him or taunting him again, especially seeing how shaky and overheated you were, but then the world plunged. The elevator started going down and the sweats down your spine went from molting hot to freezing cold. You glanced at the panel, same as him — the elevator had been called back to zero from the fourteenth floor, where you lived.

You looked at him, ready to rationally deal with the situation, but all you found was a challenge in those dark eyes. Your eyebrow quirked quizzically, and his fingers restarted moving ruthlessly, making you jolt against the wall in surprise.

“I guess you have to convince me you’ve learned your lesson fast.”

You widened your eyes, the hot and cold shivers clashing on your lower belly, confusing you, “What?”

“You heard me.”

His eyes were dark and intent, and you almost cursed a cry. That was the serious Taehyung eyeing you intently. He wouldn’t forgive you if you failed, and you were totally adrift. The pleasure was undeniable, but so were the chills down your spine.

He bit down your neck, pushing his fingers so hard at your core, the contrast almost gave you whiplash. You wanted to scream; everything was mixing inside you in a storm. A minute ago you would have jumped and came hard, but now, with every inch the elevator went down, fear was gripping your heart.

“Baby, wait— stop— we’ll get caught,” you pleaded. 

“I don’t care,” he pulled away to look into your eyes, and you fluttered around his fingers. “Tell me what I want to hear.”

His voice was softer now, as if he felt the same torment as you, and you were sure he did. He was still hard in your hand, reacting to your core around his fingers as though it was inevitable. So you sighed into his cheek, his scent bringing tears to your eyes still locked with his, sparkling the same as his. You belonged to him, always had, always would. You knew that, and he knew that, no matter how much you teased him about it. But you had never felt it so intensely, in your spirit, in your soul, in your bones. So owned, both in pleasure and otherwise. And safe. Even if that elevator reached zero and the doors opened, he would love you unconditionally always. Your love was undeniable, even when faced with the possibility of getting caught. Even if it would ruin your life, your career, or affect his. There was only the truth, and you wouldn’t keep it from him.

“I love you,” you said, and for a moment he thought you were still being defiant. “I love you, I belong to you, I’m yours. I want you to hold me for the rest of my life. No one but you will ever touch me, I love you so much—” Your voice wavered, and he instantly pressed his lips to yours for a sweet kiss that had a tear running down your cheek. As soon as he moved away, you still managed, “I don’t care about anything else.” His hand moved from your neck to your hair, holding your head up, so your glistening eyes didn’t hide. “I just want to be with you forever—”

His lips smashed yours while his hand darted from your hair to the stop button, making the elevator shake to a halt. Then he pressed your floor again, and as the elevator went up, so did you. His tongue was inside your mouth, showing as much desire and desperation as yours, while his hand restarted fingering you roughly. Only this time, it seemed like you were a firework ready to blast once the fuse ended, and you wanted it. You fisted him harshly too, your hand so wet you doubted if he hadn’t come already, but by his ruts, you knew he hadn’t.

You thought you were set to come with him when the elevator stopped, but as it stilled, so did Taehyung. He gave you a last kiss, took his hand out of you, and pulled your hand from inside his pants. The doors opened, so you thought you’d make your way to your apartment and finish things there, but he stopped you.

Right as you were passing the doors, he grabbed your arm and pushed you against the frame where the elevator doors had retracted into. He spread your legs with his so that one was outside, on your floor, while the other stayed in.

You sighed, “Tae?”

He pulled your hair to the side and kissed your neck, then glued your ass to his crotch. You both groaned with his hard cock rubbing at you teasingly, and he pressed himself fully to you, groping your tits harshly, “We’re not done yet.”

He sounded frantic as he kissed down your neck, squeezing and rutting into you so hard, you wondered why he wasn’t inside you already.

You raised your head to tell him that when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, through the elevator mirror. He had his eyes closed, lost in kissing every inch of your skin he could, while he used one hand to release himself. You moaned just at the sight of his juicy hard cock, and closed your eyes in anticipation while you felt him fumbling with your dress and underwear until the tip was pressed to your folds.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned, teasing you both while he got coated, and you only ground back into him.

He sounded desperate, but so were you, and nothing would stand in the way of feeling him again, of being part of him, loved by him, and used by him.

Your nails scratched the metal door frame, and you almost cursed and begged for him, but soon he was pushing himself inside you, and you groaned. He pushed further and further, giving you time to clench and feel the sting, adjusting to his girth, before finally tucking himself fully in, raw in your wet, soothing embrace. He tried bucking his hips, and you instantly keened, letting the stretch reminding you of how amazingly fulfilling it was to have your love inside you.

He didn’t wait a second to start fucking you in a demanding rhythm, grasping you by your hips, then waist, then chest, shoulders, neck, and even hair. His hips were ruthless, smacking into yours to fill you up every time, and you could feel yourself dripping down your thighs. You couldn’t stop moaning, and you didn’t stifle those down either, so drunk on him that someone could have showed and found you, and you wouldn’t have even noticed. All you wanted was the smack of his hips against your ass, the blunt shove of his cock inside you, pushing and dragging against your walls, poking you inside, turning your body into nothing but pleasure.

He leaned closer, changing the angle to hit your g-spot in a way that stole your breath, but not more than the words he grunted into your ear, “I love you so much. I fucking want you, you’re mine.”

You were ready to cry your love too, but then your eyes met through the mirror and the hint of anxiety in his hurt you deeply. His eyes quickly softened with his affection for you, but your heart couldn’t forget it. Teasing him was one thing, another was to actually hurt him or make him insecure about you.

“I’m yours,” you tried, though your voice was hardly your own with each moan. “Tae— I’m—”

His fingers had gone around your waist to rub your clit, and talking became nearly impossible. “I’m here, baby. I got you,” his voice was a groan. He was tucked so deep inside you that you knew he was holding his orgasm back. “I’m waiting for you,” he nuzzled your neck, and your eyes rolled back. “From the moment I met you, I’ll never stop— Never give up—”

Something in your lower stomach was about to explode, overheating you to the point you couldn’t breathe, until you snapped. You bucked your hips deeper, feeling the burst of your orgasm imminent, and you screamed. His fingers were the perfect push, and your core throbbed, sucking and pumping his pleasure out of him. He groaned into your neck, pressing you by your mound to sink on his cock as deeply as possible, and your nails scrapped the metal frame. His cock twitching deep inside you increased your sensitivity to the point that tears fell down your cheeks, despite the absolute bliss lighting up your body. The way he swayed his hips to jerk the last drops inside you, then pressed you closer to stay inside you and all around you, made you shake with a sob. That was how he loved you, attentively, completely, unconditionally. And you had stupidly hurt him.

“I love you,” he whispered incessantly as he held you and pecked your salty skin. “You’re everything to me, I never loved anyone like this.” You shook with a sob and his tone changed to worry, “Did I hurt you? Are you nervous?” He rubbed your hands and let you come further back into his protective embrace, “I’m sorry, baby. I wouldn’t ever let them catch us, I’d never risk your safety like that.”

You knew that, and it somehow hurt you more — that he’d do everything to protect you while you so childishly hurt him.

“I— I’m sorry,” you tried your best to stop your bawling. “I didn’t mean to hurt you or suggest that I’d ever want anyone else, I— I love you!”

He held you even harder, knowing you need that, “I know, I’m not mad. I was… worried he’d impose himself or something.”

“Jungwoo… He wouldn’t,” you sniffled, and before Taehyung had time to let his jealousy resurface, you continued, “I told him— I told Jungwoo I have someone. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said instantly, nuzzling your cheek with a half hidden smile. “I don’t mind.”

You nodded, still sniffling and cleaning your face, but relieved with his kisses and snuggles. Then you pulled your hair away from your face, and brushed the back of your knuckles to his cheeky smile, “Let’s go home.”

[dinogoofymutated]

Please, when u have the time, more Pietro stuff 😭😭😭 ur writing for him is excellent and I need more!! Headcanons, stories, idc I just need more Quicksilver written by u.

Enemies to lovers!Quicksilver/GN!reader - pt 2

Here's part 1

It's finally here!! I'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes. Also, I think the ending is probably the most dialogue heavy scene I've done so far, and I'm not entirely happy with it, but i wanted to post this so bad!! I might go back and edit later though. Hope you all enjoy!! TWS: Fighting, passive aggression, full on aression kinda, logan is a worried asshole big brother, Professor X watching his tragedy not quite repeat. Pietro is kinda an ass but he's a broken ass so its okay.

You and Pietro had a weird relationship. And it seemed to just spiral into even weirder territories and murkier waters. Each and every interaction tiptoed into something a little more than just enemies, and one night you think the two of you fully crossed the line. You were sure of it, and it was just the start.

    You’re finally starting to fall asleep when there’s a sudden whoosh of air and grunt of pain. It startles you, and you sit straight up in bed, leaning over to flicker on the light. When your eyes finally adjust, you see Pietro standing by the window, hunched over in clear distress.

    “Pietro? What are you doing here?” You ask, But he doesn’t respond. His suit is ripped and bloody, and various deep cuts litter his skin. You swear he’s about to pass out as he stands in front of you, swaying just a little like he did on that day at the beach. Whatever fight he had just been through, it had taken a little more out of him than that fast metabolism could heal so quickly. 

    “Are you okay?” You ask, wide-eyed at him. Pietro grimaces in a way that looks more angry than it does pained, and yet he still says nothing. Unable to deal with the idea of admitting he needs help, you assume.

    He’s sitting on your bed now, naked from the waist up as you stitch his wounds. He’s been silent the whole time, only offering a wince or grunt every now and then with particularly tender wounds. Right now you’re on your knees as you stitch up a rather deep cut on his upper side, his arms keeping his balance as he leans back on your bed.

    “Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask eventually. Pietro’s chest pulls on the stitches just a little as he huffs in annoyance, regretting the action a moment too late.

    “If I did, I would be.” He snaps. You raise an eyebrow at him as you begin a new stitch, piercing the skin perhaps a tad less cautious than you had been before.

    “Take it easy, speedster. ‘Last time I checked I was the one with the needles in my hand.” You snark. Pietro has nothing more to say to that, instead turning his head away so that he doesn’t have to look at you. It doesn’t take a genius to know he’s a bit embarrassed at this whole situation, and you feel a bit bad for him. Out of all the places he could have gone to, there had to be a reason he chose to come here. You just couldn’t tell what that reason was. 

    You’re gentle while you finish wrapping him in bandages, and he can’t seem to look you in the eyes even for a second. When you reach out to brush some dirt off of his face, he finally meets your eyes. He’s a little less guarded than he was before, but the wall between the two of you still remains. There's a quick gust of wind as he moves towards the open window, stopping just before he leaves.

    “...Thank you.” He says after a moment, looking at you from the corner of his eye. You smile at him, a warm feeling in your chest. The difference in his attitude was noticeable, and the fact that he was acting even a little less cold with you was reassuring.

    “You’re welcome.” You reply, and then he’s gone again, having closed the window behind him this time.

The difference between the two sides of Pietro you saw was so jarring. You were so used to the cocky asshole that spent all his effort in terrorizing you, not the quiet, almost angry, and guarded man that stood before you that night- and the many nights afterward.

The second time he showed up, this time woundless and simply laid on your bed to rant, you were surprised but didn’t mind it. Then it happened again, and again, and then came the board games, the nights of talking endlessly, and the midnight snacking. 

And eventually, Pietro started to climb into your bed. He never spoke a word when he did, simply pulling back the covers and pulling you close, pressing his face into the back of your neck. Nights like this were vulnerable, and tender. Quiet. He came to you in need of comfort often, and you were willing to be his safe space for as long as he wanted.

The more he came to you, hurt or angry or sad, the more concerned you became. And you were upfront about it, much to his dismay.

     “You know, I get that we’re on two different sides of things- but you know that the school’s doors are always open to those who need it, right?” You ask, late one night after he had crawled into bed by your side. You were facing him, hand curling on the pillow an inch away from his face, fighting the urge to brush his bangs away from his forehead. Immediately, he has a negative reaction to it. He scowls, recoiling away from you as he glares. You know it should hurt worse than it does, but all you can see is the hurt he's feeling right now.

    “The last thing I need is for another person to tell me what to do.” He snaps, turning his head away from you as he sits up and runs his hand through his hair, aggravated. You sit up on the bed a little further, almost wanting to reach for him, but you don’t.

    “Pietro, You know that’s not what I meant-” You say, softy.

    “Does it matter what you meant?” Pietro practically cuts you off. His tone is sharp, and it hurts you for a second. You frown at him- not that he could see it anyway, and the hurt quickly turns to aggravation on your end.

    "Yes, it does. I'm not bossing you around, I'm just telling you that the X-men- myself included- are here if you need any help." You huff, watching as he practically rolls his eyes at you and stands, looming over the bed as he turns to look at you.

    "The telling part is the problem. Everyone tells me that I could do something, but what they mean is that I should do it." He snaps. You move over to his side of the bed before standing, almost in a challenge. The two of you are now almost uncomfortably close, to the point where you’re sure if you moved an inch your noses would be touching.

    "Well, What if that's not what I’m doing but you're just reading it that way?" You say, meeting his gaze. Pietro was never one to back down from a confrontation, especially not one with you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him quite this angry at you before, rocky past be damned.

    "So you’re saying I'm overanalyzing?" He says, and you groan at the fact that nothing you said was getting through to him, pushing the palms of your hands into the outer edge of your eye sockets. 

    "I'm saying that I'm not your dad-" 

    "And what would you know about my family?!" Pietro yells, and you’re quick to look back up at him, scowling. 

    "Don't raise your voice at me!” You snap, pushing a finger into his chest. “I know enough to know that your dad controls every aspect of what you do, and that's not fair to you." You tell him.

    "Don't pretend that you understand or care about any of that" Pietro says, grabbing ahold of your hand rather tightly. God! You did not understand why he couldn’t get it through his thick fucking skull!

    "I do care, Pietro!" The words burst out of you, almost uncontrollably. You slam your other fist into his chest, tears of frustration welling in your eyes as you look at him. His eyes are wide, looking shocked and confused. You’re beginning to lose your fight, leaning against his chest, still somewhat caught in his grip despite the fact that his hold on your hand had become light, and still, it felt confining. 

    "I may not understand why you do what you do, but I do care about you." Your words come out quieter this time, blinking away those stupid tears that had started to well. Pietro’s eyebrows are furrowed, eyes searching your own, but you don't know what for. The two of you stand there for what feels like forever for both of you speedsters, but was surely more like a split second. You’re still pressed up against his chest, faces so close they could touch.

    And then they did.

    Pietro is the first to kiss you, leaning in and quickly cupping the back of your neck with his free hand, almost in a possessive manner. Once his thoughts have finally caught up with his actions, he pulls back. He looks at you, wide-eyed at his own actions before you gently pull him back in for another kiss. It only takes a moment to click before he sighs into you, melting into the kiss. His kisses are tender, sweet presses of his lips against your own. After a few long moments, you slowly pull away from him. He rests his forehead against your own, a fond look in his eyes that you were sure you mirrored. 

From that night on, his nightly visits to you meant something more than they had in the past.

That didn’t mean that they went unnoticed by others, however, and one day you found yourself being called into the professor's study. Of course you were a little worried, but you were so sure that there was no way anyone could have noticed, right?

    Logan is standing next to the professor's desk when you enter the room, frowning with his arms crossed. Professor Xavier on the other hand sits rather calmly, inviting you to sit down. You choose to stand instead, cocking your head at them.

    “Wow. What is this, an intervention?” You joke, trying to laugh off the oddness of the situation.

    “Yup.” Logan snorts. You shoot him a confused and slightly panicked look that the professor picks up on immediately.

    “There’s no need to worry, my dear.” The professor says calmly. “We just had a few concerns about-” 

    “We know that Magneto’s brat has been sneaking into your room.” You almost flinch at Logan's accusatory tone, bristling with a sudden flash of embarrassment and then anger at him for what he calls Pietro. “I’ve been smelling his scent on you for weeks.” Logan finishes, and you’re so taken aback you don’t know what to say at first, mouth hanging open in shock.

    “Easy, Logan.” The professor says, raising an eyebrow at the furry man, but Logan isn’t listening, approaching you with a scowl on his face.

    “Have you ever heard the phrase, no fraternizing with the enemy, kid?” He continues, and the close contact has you bristling again, unwilling to back down.

    “Logan.” The professor tries again, unsuccessfully.

    “Look, the first time he came to me he was injured. I wasn’t going to turn him away.” You finally say, fists clenching as you ignore Logan before looking back at the professor instead.

    “I understand that. In fact, I’m thankful that you could be so forgiving towards Pietro, despite the past the two of you share.” The professor states, but his words hardly relieve you.

    “Then what is the problem?” You ask, exacerbated by this whole interaction already. Logan seems to be angry that you’re ignoring him but snorts at your question.

    “-The problem is that you shouldn’t be letting him in your knickers.” You gasp at Logan's accusation, and the professor looks appalled. 

    “Logan!” Professor X scolds as you struggle and scrabble for words, now both embarrassed, mortified, and rather flush in the face.

    “-Excuse you! We weren’t- we’ve never!” It’s a struggle to finally find your words, and even more embarrassing to be so caught off guard. What kind of asshole accuses someone of that out in the freaking open?! In front of your mentor no less?!

    “Sure you haven’t. That’s why your bed doesn’t smell like him.” Logan rolls his eyes, and you refrain from punching him in the face right then and there.

��   “Well if your stupid nose was as good as you say it is, you would know that we haven't done anything just by the smell!”

    “Just because it hasn’t happened now-” 

    ENOUGH! Both of you! The professor silenced the argument with a single thought. Both you and Logan feel scolded, and yet still bitter about the other. You cross your arms in a bit of a defensive manner ad the two of you turn back to face the professor.

    “This was never supposed to be an argument, simply a conversation.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. You scoff at that, sending a pointed look in Logan’s direction.

    “Well maybe, Logan should learn to stay out of my business!” You say, only for the professor to hold his hand up for you to stop, simply hoping both you and Logan would quit continuing to dig this hole deeper and deeper.

    “I’ve heard enough.” Professor X states. “We were simply concerned about the nature of the relationship between the two of you, seeing that you have been growing closer. I know your mind, and I trust you to stay by the X-men’s side.”

    “Then what is this?” You ask, the words coming out as more of a whisper. Logan sighs, looking regretful but ever the stubborn ass. He looks at you, moving to where he can lean against the professor’s desk again.

    “... Look, Kid. we just don’t want you to get hurt. Anything between you and Pietro isn’t going to end well.” Logan says. You feel a little more understanding of him now, but only a bit, with him back to acting like he normally did. He was always an older brother figure to you, but that did not give him the right to air out your business, even if the professor could find out everything that had been happening with the barest glimpse into your mind. Still, you scowl just slightly at Logan, looking away from him. He sighs again, and with a nod from the professor, leaves the room. The professor nods you over to his side, wheeling his way towards the bookshelf with one particular photo on it. One of him and Magento in their college days.

    “You are an adult. I cannot stop you from making your own decisions.” The professor starts. You find yourself tracing the features of the young Erik, finding the image of Pietro in every part of his father's face. The professor looks at you, and all he can see is a face so similar to his own. “I too, understand what it is like to hold affection for someone so distantly aligned from you. It’s due to that understanding that I worry for you. I…” The professor trails off and you turn to look at him with a frown. You knew. You know. The two of you are so different from each other, but surely that didn’t mean you would be enemies forever? He wouldn’t hurt you in the way that Magneto had hurt the professor so many times before… would he? Professor Xavier reaches out to take your hand in both of his own, squeezing it reassuringly.

    “Just be careful, my dear.” 

    “I understand, professor.” 

[galedekarios]

gale & his mother, morena dekarios

i thought it'd be nice to have a place to compile everything i could find about gale's mother, morena dekarios.

the first time you as the player get a vague mention about gale's parents is after saving mirkon, when gale brings up a story about his parents denying him a kitten when he was still a child:

Gale: One time my parents denied me akitten, so I summoned myself a tressym.

if you play a gale origin playthrough, you get a mention of her much earlier from tara, after she joins the camp.

this is a camp dialogue with its variants from act i:

Tara the Tressym: Well, if it isn't my favourite fellow himself. Player: How are things back in Waterdeep? Tara the Tressym: More or less the same - though news of some mad faction calling themselves 'Absolutists' is starting to trickle in. Tara the Tressym: I told your mother not to worry. That if they were anything to worry about, Baldur's Gate would handle things quick-sharp. Keep them from spreading their tendrils north. She still wants to know when she'll see you again, sir. I avoid giving any answers. But she misses you. Player: I miss her too. Tara the Tressym: I'll tell her. With my Cat Flap of Displacement, I can afford the occasional visit. I'd bring you along, if I could. Perhaps some day. - Player: I can't risk putting her in danger. Tara the Tressym: I know that, but she doesn't. She'd keel over if she knew just how you'd tried to manipulate the Weave. Or maybe she'd just say something like, 'My Gale always was one to make the impossible possible.' Oh, but she adores you. - Player: No more guilt trips, Tara. Please. Tara the Tressym: But then whatever will we talk about? Anyhow - I'm keeping my senses pricked for any sign of another item that might be of use to you. Hopefully something will turn up soon.

it's clear from the dialogue that gale's mother worries about him and loves him - adores him, really.

it also becomes clear that she doesn't know what happened to gale and that he nor tara has not told her.

another mention from act i, again from tara:

Tara the Tressym: Please tell me you've at least made inroads when it comes to finding someone to settle down with. Myself and Mrs Dekarios are starting to think you intend to die alone. Player: You've been visiting my mother? Tara the Tressym: Naturally. After you abandoned her, there was only me left to keep her company. She's very good company, though. Ah, the stories we've traded over toast and tea. You're a highly entertaining source of speculation. But speculation only goes so far! Tell me, Mr Dekarios - how have you been?

tara and morena are implied to have tea together regularly enough to trade stories about gale. tara is implied to be a sort of messenger between the two of them, likely after gale's isolation and subsequent abduction by the nautiloid, keeping morena informed, yet without revealing gale's secret and shame.

the devnotes also state that tara loves morena - high praise since other devnotes states that tara hates everyone except gale - and that she talks of her in an affectionate tone.

this is a dialogue in act ii after mystra has tasked gale to use the orb the moment he finds the heart of the absolute:

Tara the Tressym: Promise me, Gale. Promise me you'll find another way. Promise me you'll return home, when this is all over. Player: I can't make that promise, Tara. Tara the Tressym: You're going to kill me. And your mother. And then there'll be no one to mourn you when you've wasted yourself for no good reason at all.

i find it very interesting here in terms of other relationships that tara explicitly says that there will be no one to mourn gale except morena and her should he heed mystra's instructions and sacrifice himself. it speaks of the bond between tara, morena and gale - but also even more of gale's isolation and loneliness. we know from tara that she considers herself to be gale's only old friend and gale echoes as much. we also know that gale describes the dekarios family as the dekarios clan, that is "scattered" far and wide.

at the same time, the loud silence about gale's father becomes really apparent again. a while ago, i speculated about gale's father and i truly do still think that he abandoned morena and gale.

another snippet from an act ii convo, before gale reveals the details of elminster's letter to tara (or chosing to keep it to himself):

Tara the Tressym: I'm not one to pry. I'd rather make up all the juicy details myself over tea with your mother.

which again ties in with a similar line from act i, further cementing the fact that this is a regular thing between tara and morena.

still in act ii, tara says this if gale asks her if she'll still love him if he is a mindflayer:

Player: Will you love me when I'm a mind flayer? Tara the Tressym: Depends. Are mind flayers warm-blooded? If so, my prize napping spot on your lap won't be compromised. In which case, I suppose we could find an accord. And, of course, your mother would still think you a prince, no matter how many tentacles you had. And with a nautiloid, you may even manage to visit her more often.

again, gale's mother truly adores him. tara is utterly convinced she'd love him even if he'd turn into a mind flayer. at the same time, the dialogue again hammers home the fact that gale's been keeping his distance from his mother after he has acquired the orb.

the following lines are a compilation of some of tara's lines from act iii, all once again stating that she is a messenger between gale and morena, keeping morena informed about gale's well-being, while also looking after morena in gale's absence from waterdeep:

Tara the Tressym: You're almost at the end of this, Gale. You're nearly there. And not a moment too soon. Myself, I must away to Waterdeep. Your mother will be worried silly not to have heard from either of us - and now I can bring her the good news. When this is all over I'll be waiting for you, with a crackling fire and good book at the ready. Good luck, darling. - Tara the Tressym: I'm well past due to return to Waterdeep. I'm going to tell your mother that you'll be home soon. Don't make a liar of me, darling. - Tara the Tressym: I'll have to make up some good news for your dear mother, then. I'm going home, Gale. To look after Mrs Dekarios, and to remind you that there are people waiting for you in Waterdeep.

going back to companion gale, the next mention of gale's mother after saving mirkon, is from gale in an ambient with karlach:

Gale: I don't suppose you've any clue where we are in relation to Waterdeep? Karlach: From this distance between Elturel and Baldur's Gate, I'd say... a long way away.devnote Gale: Ah. That will make getting word to my mother rather tricky. No matter - what she doesn't know can't hurt her. Not at this distance, anyway.

it echoes the lines of dialogue that origin gale has, believing he endangers his mother with his condition and thus keeping his distance.

gale mentions his mother in an act iii dialogue after meeting tara on the rooftop of the open hand temple:

Gale: My tower in Waterdeep boasts an excellent kitchen and a wine cellar to rival Ondal himself. Not to mention a larder stocked with my homemade hundur sauce. Player: Hundur sauce? Gale: A Waterdhavian delicacy, spiced to leave exactly the right amount of heat lingering on the tongue, and served with that most sharp-toothed of aquarian residents, the quipper fish. I make it to my mother's recipe. It packs quite a wallop. As does she.

we know that gale's the designated camp cook from a conversation with wyll, and i think the conversation makes it fair to assume that gale's mother taught him how to cook.

still, maybe it's because i'm not a native english speaker and i might be missing some cultural context here, but the line "it packs quite a wallop. as does she." stuck out to me:

wallop. to hit something / someone hard.

this could mean that gale's seen her hit someone and packing quite a punch behind it. with what's been described of morena so far, i doubt it's because gale's ever been on the receiving end of that.

or perhaps it's less literal and more in relation to her seemingly larger than life personality that gale also hints at later, describing his mother as "intimitable" and "sometimes unavoidable". this description is from the following conversation that is currently sadly still bugged:

Player: So your last name is Dekarios? Gale: It is. Courtesy of my mother, the inimitable, dare I say it sometimes unavoidable, Morena Dekarios. It's been so long since I've used it. 'Gale Dekarios' cut a poor figure next to the wizard prowess of 'Gale of Waterdeep'. Player: Gale Dekarios... I think I like him more. Gale: You like to many things about me I'd have sooner discarded... Your generosity is quite wonderful. Gale Dekarios likes you too. Very, very much. Though let's keep his exitence between ourselves for now. - Player: Doesn't your matter mind? Gale: Oh, she's happy if I'm happy. Morena couldn't care one jot what I call myself. Tara's the real stickler for using it. Has done since I summoned her. I'd prefer you not follow her exmaple, if that's all the same to you. 'Gale' is more than sufficient. - Player: You're right. Just 'Gale is better. Gale: I agree. And on the plus side, if I get myself into any truly cataclystic straits during the remainder of our journey, my family name will go untarnished.

i love this banter so much and it makes me very sad that larian still hasn't fixed the issue of it not triggering. there's so much lore to explore here:

from gale dropping 'dekarios' in favour of 'of waterdeep', at first, to appear perhaps more grandiose, more suited to the ambitions he held when he was younger, to morena, apparently, not minding it, yet tara clinging to 'dekarios' (perhaps to keep gale's feet on solid ground as much as she could), to finally finding out that the reason that the gale we meet now is not using 'dekarios' still is because he doesn't wish to tarnish his family name should he indeed fall victim to the orb.

the last mention gale makes of his mother is during his act iii post final battle dialogue, in which he proposes to the player:

Gale: That being said, I wondered if you might consider accompanying me back to Waterdeep as a new member of the Dekarios clan? Player: Are you asking me to marry you? Gale: I suppose I am. Tara would be delighted. Not to mention my mother. But I'd be just as happy without such ceremony, so long as we're together.

this again mirrors what tara has been saying in her dialogue with an origin gale in act i: that morena and her were hoping he would find someone to find happiness with.

i think overall, even with only the very few bits and pieces we learn of morena, it's easy to tell that she truly loves and adores and cares her son, and that that love and care is clearly echoed back from gale to morena.

still, or perhaps more likely because of that love, gale keeps his secrets and his distance to morena because of the orb and the shame he feels he brought to his family.

it's all too easy to imagine that he wishes her to be proud of him and that he feels he has disappointed her and given her little reason to be proud of him in the same vein that he feels he has done with tara:

Gale: She'd [Tara] be most impressed by our efforts saving these tieflings. Proud, even. And I've given her little to be proud of recently.

anyhow, i hope i caught all mentions and that this was helpful to someone. 🖤

[welldonebeca]

Glitter and Goo (II)

Summary: When you have to go on a mission to a different planet together, Bucky is hit by a mating ritual flower, and some feelings you two have been hiding come up. AKA: It’s a sex pollen fic with a side of breeding kink. WC: 1.8k words Warnings: Romantic tension. Fluff. Dirty talking. Sex promises.

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Masterlist

You fixed yourself dinner, lemonade forgotten, barely processing the taste of the food as you watched the way in front of you.

Space was beautiful. It was so strange to see those stars so clearly.

Yet, it was so scary sometimes.

You got something ready for Bucky too, saving it for when he'd wake up, putting some music on before moving off to work on the research of the element already.

It was maybe two or three hours later that the sound of a phone call got your attention.

"FRIDAY, pick up," you asked.

The sound stopped for a moment, and you took your gloves off.

"Doctor Sparkles," Tony greeted. "Got time to talk?"

You scoffed at the silly nickname.

"What's up?"

"That sparkly thing you sent over," he told you. "Thor said it's pollen."

You rolled your eyes.

"No shit, Sherlock," you shifted to the other side, where you'd been working on the pollen. "I gave it a look under the microscope, but I'm not exactly good at alien biology."

It just looked sparkly. Sparkly pollen, that was it.

"Anything on the goo?" you asked him. "It dried really fast, I didn't have time to take a second sample to look into it myself."

Maybe you could cut some of the fabric of Bucky's clothes. Even if it had dried, it could have left something there.

"We got someone smart looking into the one too," he told you. "Are they from the same plant?"

"Yep," you crossed your arms. "A flower exploded on Bucky. He got really grumpy about it."

There was silence on the other side.

"It exploded?" Tony asked. "Like... what?"

You rolled your eyes.

"Like a flower explosion, Tony," you told him. "What else can it mean?"

More silence.

"I gotta check something," he decided. "Are you going anywhere?"

"Yeah, I was thinking about visiting Pluto," you sassed back. "I heard it is really pretty this time of the year."

A sound caught your attention for a moment, and you looked in the direction of the dorm.

Had Bucky woken up.

"It's not worth it," Tony told you. "I'll be back in a minute."

He hung up, leaving you to scoff. It wasn't like you had anything else to do, anyway.

"Ma'am?" FRIDAY called. "Agent Barnes is behaving strangely."

That made you stiffen up.

What?

"Define strangely?"

The damn pollen.

You pulled up a tranquillizer from the side of your table.

If it had made him violent, it was best not to even get close to him.

"He has broken his bed, ma'am," the system told you. "And... I believe he's trying to copulate with your pillow."

He was...

"What?" you shouted back. "What do you mean, he's trying-"

But another call came through again.

"It's Tony, ma'am," it told you.

You grunted, covering your face with a hand.

"Pick it up," you cocked the tranquilliser. "Tony, tell me you have good news, because I think I have a problem."

"I do," he told you. "And it isn't venomous."

You sighed. Good, at least that.

"The flower that Bucky might have encountered is part of the mating rituals of-"

"Quick answer," you interrupted him, worry already filling you. "I don't have time for the sociology lesson."

He snorted a bit.

"It's a sex flower," he told you. "It makes you horny for your mate and facilitate reproduction of a highly infertile-"

You blinked, shocked.

"Wait, it's a sex pollen?" you asked. "Tony, this isn't funny!"

Where had he gotten that explanation from? Someone's fanfiction story?!

But he laughed on the other side.

"Except that it is!" he corrected you. "It enhances romantic and sexual attraction towards one's mate-"

"Mate?"

Was he talking about animals?

"It is actually highly sought after by some Asgardians struggling with their fertility," Thor spoke on the other side. "It quickens up the production of eggs and sperm to ensure reproduction."

You had to pinch yourself to react, still shocked.

What the fuck?

"And how does that affect humans?" you asked.

You were met by a bit of a hum.

"We don't have many answers on that," Tony answered at last. "But probably the same as Asgardians?"

"If so, there's nothing to worry about," Thor assured you, not sounding worried at all. "It only hits those who are actively around their partners."

You glanced back at the dorm. Well, that didn't sound very right.

"Partners?" you asked. "Like boyfriends and girlfriends? Wives, husbands, spouses...?"

He confirmed with a hum.

"Yeah. People who we have strong romantic and sexual feelings for, a bit more than just passion," he told you. "Bucky will be just fine."

"Ma'am," FRIDAY called. "Agent Barnes has dented the wall with a punch. I believe the door can only resist another five of those before breaking, unless you activate quarantine mode."

That didn't seem to go over Tony.

"Wait, what?" he asked. "Why is he punching the ship?"

You stood up quickly.

"I gotta go check on him," you decided. "Thor, is there a chance he... might..."

Hurt you.

His voice was tainted with worry when he answered.

"Violence is unlikely," he told you. "Unless you try to keep someone away from their mate."

You exhaled slowly, trying to calm your racing heart.

Holy shit.

"Okay," you spoke slowly. "I'll call you back if I need anything else."

"Wait, what?" Tony gasped back. "Where are you going?"

But you pressed the screen near your station, hanging up.

You could hear grunts when you walked near the dorm and jumped in shock when you heard Bucky's fist against the door again.

"James!" you shouted. "What are you doing?"

He stopped.

"Y/N?" Bucky called suddenly, half whimpering. "Where are you?"

You neared the closed door.

"How are you feeling?" you asked, instead. "Are you alright?"

He knocked on the door, a little weaker.

"Please," Bucky begged. "I need you."

You swallowed down, eyeing the door, worried.

Was he going mad with lust?

"Please," he cried.

Heat pooled in your belly, a soft smell making your face warm.

Was that him?

He smelt so good.

"Please?" Bucky insisted.

You stopped your tranquilliser slowly, walking near the door, but when you tried to open it, it was locked.

"FRIDAY," you called. "Open the door."

There was a moment of hesitance.

"Are you sure, doctor?" the system asked. "It's still possible to put Agent Barnes in quarantine. It's only 36 hours until we arrive back home."

You shook your head. No, you wouldn't leave him alone.

"Open the door," you commanded once more. "Don't ask me again."

The sound of the locks moving was loud, and you opened the door slowly when you found it unlocked.

James didn't move when you stepped inside, just far enough from the door that you walked in easily.

His face was so flushed, and he was drenched in sweat.

You reached for him slowly, touching him gently on his cheeks, and he exhaled, looking at you with pleading eyes.

"Where were you?" Bucky panted, sounding so sweet and yet so needy, his hands moving to cover yours. "Where had you gone?"

It broke your heard to hear him like that, so lost. You had left alone!

He watched you with his bright blue eyes so soft, and it was as if he hadn't been slamming the door moments ago.

"I'm sorry," you caressed his skin. "I was making dinner. Aren't you hungry?"

Bucky shook his head, hand moving down slowly, touching your body gently. First your waist, wrapping his arm around you so slowly that you knew you could step away and stop him any time you wanted.

He put his head in your neck, sniffing you, nuzzling into you as if you were the most precious thing he didn't want to let go.

You shivered when you felt him sniffing you, pressing close to you, his body hot.

His big hand travelled down a bit, near your hip.

"Hungry," he mumbled into your neck, licking your skin.

Bucky's fingers searched around your jumpsuit on your back, tugging on your jacket and your utility belt.

"Smell good," he whimpered. "Can smell you..."

You sighed out.

"Smell me?" you squirmed.

You could smell him good. It was so good.

"Smell you wet," Bucky hissed, unhooking your belt and throwing it away. “Smell your skin… wanna bury my head in your tits, find your sweet smell in them.”

You gasped, surprised.

"Bucky! Something could break!"

He tugged on your vest, lips travelling up and down your neck, and if he was that insistent there, you couldn't help imagining what he'd do if he put himself between your legs.

"Want to break you," he took his hands to your belly and pulling on the clasps of your best, nearly breaking them. "Make you mine. No one else will have you."

What?

He wasn't speaking any tense.

Bucky threw it away, grabbing the front zip of your suit and tearing it.

“Bucky!”

Did he know how hard it was to get a jumpsuit that fit your tits? They were too fucking big for most of them, you had to get a bigger size and adjust the rest of your body!

Still, you couldn’t complain as his big hand pushed into your clothes, grabbing your chest, squeezing your breast over your bra.

"No one else can have you," Bucky babbled. "You're mine."

Bucky took your clothes off so quickly you barely saw it, and he picked you up, laying you on the bed.

For a moment, you thought he would take you just like that, but he took off his clothes before moving and kneeling in front of the bed, looking at your face with such a soft pleading look on his face.

"Please?" he whispered. "Can I have you? Please?"

You swallowed down, leaning onto your elbows.

His mattress was practically on the floor, the legs broken, and it would be so easy for him to just crawl to you.

"Want to give you my babies," Bucky pleaded with you. "Want to be yours, please."

You swallowed down, breathing in deep. Oh, how good he smelt. You had to fight yourself not to bury your face into his neck and sniff him.

The flower... it had to do with mating rituals, wasn't it?

"What are you going to do?" you asked him.

Bucky swallowed down.

"I want to make you feel good," he promised. "I'll treasure you, I'll never let you go."

You pressed your thighs together, a bit warm between them.

His fingers clenched by his sides.

"I'll fill you up," Bucky promised. "You're so empty, aren't you? I'll give you everything!"

You swallowed down again, feeling your pussy clenching at the idea.

His babies. He was going to give you his babies, right?

Your eyes travelled down his body to his cock, and it was so hard. There was so much precum.

Oh, he was going to fill you up, right?! Give you his cum!

Bucky was going to breed you.

You nodded, sitting up.

"Please," you tried to grab his hand. "Please, Bucky."

…

“Glitter and Goo” was first posted on my Patreon on April 2023. To read it now, subscribe to my page, it’s just $2 a month and I post 6x a week.

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​​ @amythyststorm33​​ @shaelyn102 @yknott81​​ ​​@maximofftrash​​ @kgbrenner​​ @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80​ @mogaruke ​ @shadowhunter7​​ @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever​​ @deemoriarty​​ @05spn18​​ @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​ @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67​​ @averyrogers83​​ @notyourtypicalrose @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega Marvel forever tags: @its-daydreamer23​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @tayrae515imagines @indecisiondecisions? @afanofmanystuffs​​? @patzammit​​? @thevanishedillusion? @widowsfics​​? @alexisshoto ​​ @dreams-of-feysand ​@dragonqueen0606 @izbelross @isabelle-faith

Glitter and Goo: @art2emily

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part V

Thank you as always to @spookyghostjelly for beta reading for me, you're the best bb!! ❤️❤️

Hello everyone!! This chapter is going to be a little more plot/lore heavy. But, we still get some sweet and flirty boys. IV brings Reader dinner and II is becoming more comfortable in his flirting. Thank you so much for reading, if you would like to be added to the tag list let me know!

WARNINGS: None

Part IV - Part VI

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

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Today was one of those times where your store was absolutely slammed. "I'll be right with you Jay, just give me one second." You clap the older man on the shoulder as you round the counter.

"No worries darlin', I got all day." He smiles cheerfully at you." You hurriedly set a fresh batch of coffee to brew, quickly cleaning up the station.

"Next batch will be done in about ten minutes guys." You smile as you pass by a tow of your usuals, a group of old timers that would set up shop at the shelf along one of the windows and spend their day drinking cups of coffee and playing scratch tickets.

"Now Miss (Y/N), don't you go running off, I got a vibe to pick with you young lady." You skidded to a halt, turning in your heels to face the myriad of curious stares.

"You better make this quick Randy, I got a line out the door." You huff with a sarcastic smile.

"I just want to know what you're doing hanging around with those cultists." Your eye involuntarily twitched as he spit out the word. "I'd just hate to see you get mixed up in that crowd."

"They're nice boys Randy." You hurry up to the counter as you continue to call over your shoulder. "It might do you some good to actually get to know them before you try to crucify them over nothing.

"Why don't you try inviting them to the Fall Festival?" Jay asks gently.

"Unfortunately I don't think they'd go. I know it's hard to believe but they're just as nervous about you as you are about them." You explain with a huff.

"I think it's worth a shot at least." He leans in a bit to whisper to you. "Now I can't speak for everyone obviously, but I think if the townsfolk actually got to meet them and see that they're not some big ol' scary monster in the woods… well, they might just come around." He offers his advice with a patient smile. "If you're saying they're a good group of guys I trust your judgment. Your word means a lot more to me than some blood thirsty reporter after a story."

"Thanks Jay, I'll ask them. Who knows, maybe they'll show up." He bids you farewell before leaving you to tend to the rest of your sea of customers. After what felt like an eternity your store was finally empty. You groaned, slumping over the counter. The cool linoleum felt nice against your sticky skin. You jolted up at the sound of the bell ringing above the door, eyes flashing over to reveal II and IV looking at you curiously. "Hey guys." You give them a tired smile.

"Everything alright, love? You look exhausted." II approaches the counter, his eyes full of concern.

"Yeah, just a long day." You explain. You sit down in your chair, resting your elbows on the counter. II copies your motions, his eyes searching yours, his nose just barely out of reach from bumping into you.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" You shake your head in response.

"You boys are already too good to me as it is." You giggle as II playfully rolls his eyes. "I'll be alright, just gotta do some quick cleaning before I go upstairs. Then it's a cup of ramen cause I'm too lazy to cook and shitty movie re-runs until I pass out on my couch."

"A cup of ramen isn't a meal, doll." He tuts.

"I know that, doctor." He chuckles at your sarcastic tone. "I'll be alright, one night without a proper dinner isn't going to kill me."

"I wish we could come help more around here, I hate seeing you so tired." IV chimes in, dropping an armful of snacks on the counter.

"I appreciate all your help, but I promise you, I'll be just fine." You respond with a reassuring smile. Neither of them seemed satisfied with your answer but they could tell you weren't in the mood to argue.

II sighs, "just promise me after you finish up here you'll go get some rest."

"You have my word." You chuckle. The two of them finish their shopping, idly chatting with you as you do some cleaning up. "Goodnight guys, get home safely." You wave as they head out.

"I better not come back here and see you exhausted tomorrow." II warns playfully.

"I'll try my best." He winks at you before pushing out the door. IV wishes you goodnight before joining his companion.

You collapsed on your couch with a groan once you finally made it upstairs. Despite how much you were trying to convince yourself you weren't hungry your growling stomach said otherwise. You lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling, when suddenly the familiar rumble of a pick up truck pulls into the lot. You stood, walking over to the window and pushing the curtain aside. You saw IV fumbling with something in his passenger seat before kicking the door open. You met him at the back door, he froze when he saw you standing at the top of the landing with a smirk spread across your features. "I, uh, I brought some food." He offers bashfully.

"Come on up IV." You chuckle before heading back inside. IV steps into your apartment, eyeing you curiously.

"I'm sorry I showed up without an invitation." He apologizes. You smile, taking a couple steps closer to him.

"You're welcome here anytime." He breathes out a laugh as his eyes dart to the floor. You offer to take the food for him, setting up a spot for the both of you on your couch. "I am curious, how did you manage to get fast food without raising any suspicion?" You ask as you pop a fry in your mouth. IV chuckles in response, adjusting to sit more comfortably.

"It's a funny story actually, I pulled up at the drive through and the kid working there told me he liked my costume." You laugh.

"Really?" He nods. The thought of the Fall Festival popped into your mind; how you would love to bring the four of them because you know they would have a great time, how it would give them a chance to see the town for what it really was, and of course your little crush on the charming masked men didn't help either. "IV, do you think Vessel plans on ever going into town? You know, aside from you guys making supply runs under the cover of darkness." You joke.

"If I'm being completely honest, I don't know." He pulls his mask away from his face to take a sip of his drink. "I'm the newest of our little group so I can't give you the whole story, but from what I understand up until we reached here things weren't too great. There's a lot of people out there who want to get rid of us before they even have a chance to get to know us. We've been run out of town after town, sometimes through more… humane means… other times not so much. But, we have something good here, with the camp in the woods, with you." He pauses for a moment to smile at you. "That's something I want to try and hold onto for as long as I can."

You study him for a moment, "what if I tried to help?" You offer. "I could be the middleman for you. People in town know me, I grew up here, that has to mean something. I just… I don't want you to have to constantly be worried about someone being out to get you. I know that if they met you, if they got to know the people I know you are, they wouldn't be afraid anymore."

"I'm sure Vessel would be interested in hearing you out. Who knows, maybe you'll actually convince him." He chuckles. "Between you and me, if you bat those pretty little eyes at him, I'm sure you could convince him to do just about anything." He jokes as he shoots you a wink.

"I bet that line works on all the girls, huh?" You giggle, trying to shake off the heat that had settled in your cheeks.

"As long as it works on you I'm set." You playfully smack his arm. He nestles back into the couch cushions, letting out a soft groan as he stretches an arm over the back, the back of your neck buzzing as you feel his warmth seep into your skin.

"You're all a bunch of flirts." You smile at him.

"A bunch of flirts?" You roll your eyes at his mock annoyance. "It's not my fault that you're so captivatingly beautiful." You noticed that growing familiarity in your chest. The steady thrum of your heartbeat as you tried to hide your flustered state. IV leans in closer to you, his side pressed flush against your body. "Once I met you I understood what they were all fussing over." He chuckles before muttering, "the perfect being brought to us by Sleep." You turn to look at him, his hazy blue eyes coaxing you in deeper with every passing second.

"Who's… who's Sleep?" You whisper. IV tilts his head, a curious expression matching yours. The pieces must have clicked together because he returned to his usual smiling self a moment later.

"You'll find out soon, Vessel's probably waiting for the right time to explain." You accepted his explanation without a fuss. You trusted that if it was something you needed to know they would tell you. He glanced up at the clock, "I'm sorry to cut things short, love, but I should head back." You nod, standing and walking him over to the door.

"Thank you for bringing some food." You smile.

"Anytime." He responds with a wink. "Get some rest, alright? II will throw a fit." You both shared a laugh before IV reached out and pulled you into his arms. You froze at first, not fully comprehending that he had wrapped you in a hug. But, the moment realization set in your arms slipped around his torso. Neither of you were in a rush to let go, the two of you standing in a comfortable silence as IV held you close, gently swaying you from side to side.

"Goodnight, doll." His hand lingers in your hip, taking your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze before slipping out the door.

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[kix-mm]

Caterpillar pt 1

"I-its okay, don't freak out, please don't freak out- please-" there was a distant yell that interrupted their plea, leaving the oversized softie all alone once more in their lonely, dark catacombs.

He let out a defeated whine as he watched the lantern hastily dash the other way, till the beautiful warm light disappeared completely. The creature was mostly blind, and relied on sound and smell to do its job, cleaning up any rotting bodies or junk to prevent disease or unwanted pests in the long forgotten hallways.

It's features were designed to pick up any scrap, no matter how thin or small, fingers, hands, arms... the being was covered in them, and covered in the soot lined along the walls too due to its frequent contact with it.

They were overgrown, to say the least, struggling to pass through the narrower hallways and relying on its extra limbs to maneuver its way through like a hungry caterpillar, and suitably it always had room for more.

This didn't mean it was some mindless gluttonous creature. It yearned for contact, a conversation, just something more than a yell or abrupt sentence before the other dashed at a speed the glutton wasn't able to keep up with.

But alas... it seemed like today would be like every other until a distant sob and sniffle caught their ear. Slowly, and very silently, he made his way closer and closer to the sound, the smell of smoke, wax, and blood filled their nose, making their stomach release a loud groan against the caterpillars will.

The sobbing stopped in an instant. There was no light for the human to see what was nearby, allowing the caterpillar to inch their way a little closer, on the the soft sound of rubble could be heard being dragged towards the human, who tried backing further into a corner. "Wh-who's there?!" The human calls, their voice was shaky and uncertain.

"It's just me," he answers, his voice soft and calm in hopes to soothe the human's worries. The humans' eyes widen a little more. "You- You're that thing from earlier -" the human sounds panicked but stays in their place. "You're the boy. You ran away.." they could smell him, sweat, fear, blood, a small wound, he possibly cut himself on the glass or when he fell, but it was nothing serious.

The human could hear something picking up the glass and slowly start munching on it. It made him pull a face. "You're eating glass..?" "I eat everything that ends up down here - ah- no, not you, of course." his clarification didn't sound all too convincing at the end. Even they who spoke didn't sound convinced. He looked over at the boy, able to make out just about where he was. "Why are you down here?" The boy shuffled tighter against the wall. The creatures heat could be felt, along with its strange smell. Which wasn't entirely unpleasant. It was just... unusual.

"I was told that I would find something useful down here, something worth selling, something worth finding..." The caterpillar had heard of such stories before, but knew all too well it could not be further from the truth. "I'm sorry... you won't find that down here. Nobody throws anything worth finding in the catacombs."

The boy sighs. "I thought that might be the case... all I found was you down here - at least one of the stories is partially true.""stories?" The caterpillar asked with a mouth full of wax, watching the boy clumsily help himself up and dust his clothes off."Yes, that there's a monster down here that eats everything, and everyone who enters," the human paused. "You're not going to eat me, are you?" The other almost choked on the lanterns case before quickly shaking his head, coming to the quick remembrance that the human couldn't see he spoke up once more "no- no, no you're still alive, I only eat what's... dead, or trashed"

"So you're a vacuum?" The boy tilts his head "and how do you see in such darkness? I'm going mad, I feel like I'm blind"

The other tilts his head, a vacuum? That was a new word for him, but it probably fit his description. "I'm... kind of blind, I don't see much, I don't need to see to do my job" right, the poor human had to make it back out of here. The dilemma was, however, how was he supposed to help?

The boy looked in the direction of the creature and reached out his hand, touching a hot, thick and a tad slimy... something, he immediately pulled his hand back in disgust "was that you?" While the boy felt bad for having such a reaction, the other was a little overwhelmed by the sudden contact, all his hands and arms pull themselves tightly together.

"Yes..." he answers shyly, feeling... embarrassed? Ashamed? Did it all matter? "Um... I'm sorry, that was rude of me." "It's fine, do you want me to help you get out of here?" The boy lights out a little "you'd help me? Yes! Please! Thank you so much."

And that was possibly the first and last time this grubby monster would ever be thanked. The plan was simple, guide the boy to the nearest exit without taking him under water, the boy, named Elliot, made it very clear that he couldn't swim, or hold his breath for very long, which made the caterpillars job a little harder than expected.

Elliot had to blindly trust the monster, who didn't seem to have much of a name, "Bug" was the closest thing that came to one, which made Elliots skin crawl. The two held hands, and with a few minutes of unexpected surprises of finding out that Bug had a few more hands than expected, they finally set off.

Their pacing wasn't easy, Elliot was up front, with his two hands held and his hips, he wasn't too fond of walking blind, but found that Bug was surprisingly good at navigation, and not to mention, strong enough to lift Elliot up in case needed. Treating water was inevitable when it was flooding season, so Elliot rested up on Bugs large body when they crossed.

Eventually the inevitable happened, Bug could feel his shame creeping in as the path got narrower and narrower until he was forced to a halt "... I'm stuck" Elliot looked in the direction of Bug, confused "stuck? How??" He felt for the walls, and had to take quite a few steps to each either sides "surely you can't be that big" Elliot chuckles, but when the joke wasn't let down he got worried "God you really are aren't you?"

Bug didn't even have the courage to answer, "There's torches... further up... they must be lit, just keep walking straight and you'll make it to your exit...

Elliots heart sank "no- no, you can't expect me to go down there all by myself! What if there's water? What if there's a power surge and there isn't any light?! You can't leave me -" "I'm not leaving you, Elliot... it's right at the end of this tunnel, you can't miss it, there's no water and the ladder is right under the lights" he held Elliots hands "you will be fine, I'll guide you with my voice, just like we practiced, alright?"

There was a moment of silence between the two, Elliots head hung low. "You'll stay here, right? Till the end?" "Yes, I promise, just keep your hand on the wall, and you'll be fine" the monster was suddenly pulled into a tight embrace, Elliot had to tiptoe to reach the others neck. "Thank you..." he whispers softly, his heart racing with fear and adrenaline, he was finally going to get out of here... it felt like the whole day had passed.

The other wrapped as many arms around the boy as he could, letting the wetness stick to the boys clothes, he felt a little sad that Elliot had to go, but happy that he had finally made a friend.

The two finally separated, Bug kept watch over Elliot and guided him with encouragement, the boy eventually saw the dim lights, and picked up the pace, running towards the ladder and shouting "I found it! I found it!!" He looked back excitedly to his grubby friend but was a little disappointed when all he could make out were their pearly eyes.

Bug watched Elliot hastily climb the ladder and push the hatch open, blinding the two momentarily with the bright sun. Once Elliots eyes adjusted, he looked back toward his friend. "Bug! Wait there okay? Don't move!" He smiles and just like that, the lid fell closed, and the boy was once again out into the fresh, clean air.

The other... was still lodged between the walls. Patiently waiting for Elliot to return, he had no concept of time, so he didn't know how long he waited, but soon enough, the hatch had opened, and down came Elliot again.

This time, wearing a rain suit, with a backpack tightly strapped to his back, and what looked like a flashlight held in his mouth. He hopped down, looking out into the darkness, and called, "Hey? Are you still there?" "I'm here" Bug answered, with the same soft silky voice as before.

Elliot beamed and ran over, shining his bright flashlight on the ground in order not to blind his friend "I've got something- I think you'll like it!" He says excitedly, pulling his bag off his back and unzipping it.

A cloud of fresh smells slowly emitted from the backpack, intriguing the caterpillars interest. "Is that... chocolate? Pastries? Fresh fruits? a cake?"

Elliot stared up into the dark void, blinking with surprise. "Man, you're good." he chuckles and pulls each individual one out onto the wet, graveld ground.

A loud growl slowly comes from Bug's stomach, making Elliot chuckle awkwardly. "I knew this would spike an appetite." Bug smiles softly and lowers himself near the ground, staring curiously at the beautifully decorated cakes and pastries. "This is all for me?" "You saved my life. It's the only way I knew to repay you, " and without thinking, Elliot flipped his flashlight up, eliminating the tunnel and locking eyes with their friend.

Elliot looked a little shocked at first, even getting up and taking a few steps back to observe his friend a little better. "You're.. massive... how do you not get stuck more often?" The question made the monster blush, hiding his face in shame. "Um... I don't know, I've only ever gotten truly stuck a few times." "How did you get out?" Bug looked up at Elliot and flashed a very peculiar set of teeth, though, Elliot will be the first to admit that his new friend looked kind of... cute, so ugly that it's cute kind of way, fitting for someone with such a sweet personality and silky smooth voice.

"You really can eat anything, can't you?" He says as he sits himself down. "Come on, dig in!" Elliot smiled, waiting excitedly to see his friend try real food for once, which was a little more comedic than he expected.

It wasn't every day that you had to teach someone how to teach someone that a chocolate was best eaten... without the wrapper, and that cake didn't have to be eaten like a cookie, though that was undoubtedly both impressive and disgusting to watch. Fruits had to be peeled for him, since Big seemed a little impatient when it came to eating.

And when all the sweets and treats and delicious food were finished between the two of them, Bug still very happily ate the plastic containers, paper wrappings, all the fruit peels and tissues used to wipe their messy mouths.