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rhaenyratargcryen · 4 months ago

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you're my shotgun lover and i want it all | tyler owens (twisters)

masterlist ❈

summary: Every once in a while, the two of you will get a little too drunk, stay until last call, sneak back to your motel room, and fuck. Nobody knows – at least you don’t think they do – and you never talk about it when you’re sober. Tyler will generally stay until you fall asleep, but he’s always gone when you get up the next day. Only once has he woken up in bed with you the next morning, and you’ve never made that mistake again. There isn’t a name for what you feel for him, you don’t think, and you can’t tell what he thinks of the arrangement. Clearly he likes it, or he wouldn’t be making eyes at you from across three people’s laps as you pull these peanuts from their shells. author's note: i...wrote this...in one.......single......afternoon. my fingers hurt anyway he's so hot i have had a crush on glen powell since 2018 (set it up supremacy) but this movie reawakened something in me. i should probably watch top gun now

pairing: tyler owens x f!reader word count: 9,123 (...oopsie) warnings/tags: pWp (with, y'all!), alternate universe: canon divergence, friends to lovers, friends with benefits

also cross-posted to ao3 okay love you bye xoxo your comments and reblogs are appreciated but not required i will love you all the same i hope u like !!!! <3

all characters are 18+ these are 18+ activities minors pls do not interact my eye is twitching as i write this

It has been one hell of a week.

The tornadic activity has been off the charts – more storms built up under ideal conditions for weather hell-bent on destruction in a multiple-day stretch than you can remember ever tracking before. Your team had obviously been up for the chase, but now that the storms have passed, and the sun shines on the cleanup efforts, you can’t help but wish you’d chosen a different life path. You love what you do, but God, were you tired. Blisters have formed on the palms of your hands despite the gloves you’d donned. You could practically feel the knots forming in your neck. You shovel one more load of leaf litter before heaving the blade into the ground and leaning against it. Across from you, a backhoe is demolishing and excavating the remains of a house.

You close your eyes and try to just let the sun warm your face, thinking about how fast it can all just be gone. Mother Nature’s a beautiful force, but she can be cruel.

“Hey, don’t be slowin’ down on me,” Tyler jokes, clapping a hand between your shoulder blades. You hadn’t heard him approach, and his voice has startled you, pulling you from your thoughts. “We’re ‘bout halfway done with our part, I think.”

“No,” you reply, swiping the back of your arm across your forehead, trying in vain to clear your bangs from your eyes, but they won’t budge. Tyler reaches up and, almost as if he isn’t even thinking about it, takes the unruly pieces of hair between his thumb and forefinger and tucks it behind your ear, underneath the temple of your sunglasses, to make sure it stays this time. The action is so intimate it sends a flush crawling up your neck. You chance a look around to make sure no one else has seen. “Not slowin’ down, I promise. Just thinking about how lucky we are to be alive. How sad it is that all these people just lost everything.”

You’ve known Tyler since the two of you were in college together, fast friends who’d stuck together through a lot that could've put a strain on any other relationship, although you hadn’t studied meteorology – you’d been in school to be a librarian.

One night, he’d asked you to stay up and help him with a lab he’d missed for one of his classes, and he loves to say he knew it then – that you were hooked – but you were too far along in your degree to do anything about it now. Switching from an arts degree to one in STEM? You’d have had to start over from scratch.

Tyler had formed his team while you were in grad school and he was working as a cowboy for the rodeo back home, and you’d dropped out without a second thought when he asked you to be a founding member, to travel the country with him every tornado season. Said he wouldn’t – couldn’t – think about doing it without you. You’ve been riding with him ever since.

The two of you share everything, always have, and sometimes you wonder if it might be too much for the professional relationship you’re supposed to have.

“That’s what we’re here for,” Tyler grins, the hand still glued to your back rubbing gently, sending goosebumps across your skin under your shirt. “To help ‘em feel like their luck is turnin’.”

Always the optimist, Tyler Owens. He clears his throat, the hand on your back pulling away, and steps slightly closer to you.

“One of the folks over there gave these to me,” he says, gesturing to a group of people gathering in front of a house that looks like something had tried to suck it into the ground from dead center. “I saved their cat from their screened-in porch, poor thing had been yowling all night apparently. Know these’re your favorite, so, here you go. I think you earned it.”

You take the tin from him and open it, your mouth instantly watering at the sight of the small, round butter cookies inside. “God,” you groan, picking one up and taking a bite, savoring it over your tongue. You can feel Tyler watching you carefully. “Thank you. You get me.”

“Do we get cookies, Tyler?”

Lily’s voice sounds from your left, and you glance over at her. The shit-eating look on her face tells you she did see Tyler fix your hair for you. Your stomach somersaults.

“If you’re good,” Tyler says, smirking, “after the sun sets, we can head back to the motel, find some shitty bar, and drinks’ll be on me, okay? How’s that sound?”

Lily whoops, turning to Dani, who’d since appeared beside her, and the two snicker and fist bump.

“You need any help over here?”

You look back at Tyler, cupping one hand above your eyes to shield them from the sunlight. Despite your glasses, it shines bright from directly behind him, and you can hardly stand to look at him.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you murmur in reply, bending down to toss some siding that had been blown off one of the houses on this street into the wheelbarrow you’ve been using. “You should go see what Boone’s up to – I don’t think anyone has seen him in a minute.”

No doubt Boone was hiding somewhere with one of the breakfast burritos Lily and Dani have been rolling since early that morning, seeing how long he can get away with not doing his part. He’s a good guy, but the manual labor side of the job isn’t really his thing.

“Eh, he’s better off wherever he is,” Tyler laughs, and a small smile takes over your face, too. “Hey, you sure you’re okay? You don’t need a break? You can take a minute to yourself, no one’ll judge. I know how this can all get to you a little more than it gets to everyone else.”

You know him well enough to know he’s not calling you weak-stomached, that he’s genuinely concerned for how you feel, but he’s right. It does all get to you. Settling in to help survivors of these natural disasters is just something that comes with the chasing – there isn’t one without the other for you and the rest of the crew. You nod, glancing back up at him.

“I’m okay, Tyler. Go off and be the face of the operation – you don’t have to worry about me.”

Tyler’s eyes narrow, his gaze shifting between your eyes, trying to find evidence you’re withholding the truth from him, but he seems to find nothing. With a minute tip of his head, he turns to resume working through a long-term plan for rebuilding the town with the mayor and some other members of the local government.

This is something else you know he loves to do – shmooze with higher-ups, show off his people skills. Not only are they higher-ups, they’re small-town folk. His kind of people. He knows how to get through to them, how to get them to trust him. You love that about Tyler. He’s never condescending – he always has a genuine desire to help. He’s been through this hundreds of times, and these people may only have been through it this one time. You look around at them, at the people of all ages picking up the pieces that remain of their community, then cross your fingers and send a thought out to anyone listening:

Please let it be the only time.

After a few more hours of genuinely back-breaking work, you hear Tyler’s sharp whistle and know it’s time, meandering over to his truck where it’s been parked for almost eighteen hours. Using your teeth, you pull your gloves from your hands and hiss. They’ve been rubbed raw, the skin blistering where each finger meets the palm. You try to ignore the throbbing sensation, leaning against the passenger side door and closing your eyes. The rest of the crew sidle up to you, taking long drags from water bottles and cigarettes and trying to make peace with how you’re leaving this place tonight.

“Does anyone else want to break off to shower first?”

It seems Dani’s the only one, and they shrug, putting their hand out, palm up, to Dexter, who hands them the keys to the RV.

“Meet y’all there,” they say, stifling a yawn, and you know it’ll be a bit before you see them. The rest of you will have to pile into Tyler’s truck, and before you can object, the other three crawl into the back seat and leave you on the front bench with Tyler. You let yourself in and close the door behind you, buckling and watching as Tyler shakes someone’s hand and hustles to meet the rest of you. His Texans cap hits the bench before he does, between the two of you, and he turns his keys in the ignition, buckling his own seatbelt.

“Where we headin’?”

“There’s a place with a mechanical bull nearby. I vote there.”

“How nearby is ‘nearby,’ Boone?”

“Uh,” he pulls his phone from his pocket, does a quick Google to double-check. “Forty-five minutes?”

Dexter leans over and grips Boone’s phone, reading the screen. “In the opposite direction of the motel, Boone.”

Everyone groans, objecting, and you press your hand against your temple to alleviate the pressure there. The noise, God, the noise.

“Could we go somewhere closer to the motel, maybe?”

“It’s got a mechanical bull,” Boone stresses, and everyone rolls their eyes.

“Boone, you know damn well we’re not making it back to the motel if we go that far away.”

He groans, and you pull your own phone out, checking Maps to see what’s around the motel.

“This one’s three minutes from where we’re stayin’,” you say, showing Tyler your screen, and he nods, shifting into reverse, backing out, and starting down the one lane of the street that’s been cleared of debris.

“Hey Boone,” you toss over your shoulder as Tyler shifts into second gear. “By the way. Long time no see.”

Lily snorts, smacking you on the shoulder to let you know she thought that was a good one. Boone shakes his head.

“Hey, just because you didn’t see me all day doesn’t mean I wasn’t out there, too. How do I know you were workin’, weren’t sitting on your ass in the shade somewhere, hm?”

You hold your raw, red palms out for him to inspect and that shuts Boone up quick. Tyler whistles as he gets an eyeful of your skin.

“God damn, girl,” Lily murmurs. “That looks like it hurts. I think I might have Aquaphor in my bag back at the motel if you want some.”

“I’ll be alright,” you reply, knocking your elbow against her knee behind you in thanks. “Appreciate you.”

The rest of the drive is taken mostly in silence, everyone in the backseat trying to rest their eyes, but you stay up, your eyes on the road, so Tyler isn’t the only one making the thirty-ish minute drive back to where you’re staying, where you checked in only after it’d been decided which towns had been hit the worst, so you could reach all of them easily by truck.

“What’s goin’ on in your head? Hm?”

You turn to look at Tyler and he glances at you from out of the corner of his eye, then at your lap, at the fingernails you’ve picked down to the quick. “Real quiet over there.”

“Nothing,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t let Boone get to you,” Tyler says, tapping his right fist on your thigh once, twice, then letting it rest there. You brush your knuckles against his and he opens the fist immediately, taking your hand in his but not squeezing, careful not to put pressure on the blisters on your palms.

“It’s not that,” you start, then realize your mistake, your admission. “I really – I think I’m just tired. It’s been a long week.”

You’re acutely aware of your hand in Tyler’s. It’s not like you’ve ever been shy around him – your cheeks flush at the thought – but this is…different. Sweet. More.

“Yeah, that it has,” he sighs, adjusting his left hand on the steering wheel so he can drive a little more comfortably, but his right hand stays in yours.

You settle back into silence, Tyler seemingly having dropped the subject, and your eyes return to the road, but you feel him looking over at you, checking on you, every once in a while. You try your hardest not to meet his gaze.

Soon enough, Tyler is putting the truck in park, then shutting the thing off. The noise – or lack thereof, you guess – wakes Dexter in the back, then Lily, who snorts when she sees your hand in Tyler’s. You pull away and unbuckle your seatbelt, watching as Tyler, with a hurt look on his face, wipes his hand on his jeans and swings himself down and out of the truck.

“C’mon, Boone,” he shouts, slapping a hand on the door that Boone has his head resting against, and the man sits up straight, wiping sleep from his eyes. “The sun hasn’t even gone down yet. Drinks on me, pal!”

The motel really is that close to the bar, so you all decide you’ll leave the truck parked there and walk home at the end of the night. The unspoken verdict is that you will all be getting shitfaced tonight.

The lingering smell of cigarettes in the air seems to rejuvenate everyone and Lily pumps a fist when she spots the old-fashioned jukebox across the room, then claps a hand over her mouth when she realizes there’s a TouchTunes sitting right next to it.

“Oh, I am so forcing you fuckers to listen to Chappell Roan all night,” she says gleefully, and you laugh along with her, looping your arm in hers and letting her pull you across the room while the boys settle in at the bar.

“So what was that all about?”

“What was what all about?” You play dumb, shrugging when Lily gives you a hard look and unhooks her arm from yours.

“Girl, seriously,” Lily scoffs, bumping your hip with hers and slipping a twenty dollar bill into the TouchTunes. Evidently she wasn’t joking when she meant you’d be listening to Chappell Roan all night. “I saw that thing earlier, the hair thing, don’t think I didn’t. And y’all holding hands in the truck. What’s going on there?”

You shake your head but she grabs your wrist. “I’m serious, Lil. Nothing’s going on. We’re friends – good friends. He noticed I was having a hard time today, and wanted to make sure I was alright. That’s all.”

You can tell she doesn’t fully believe you, and when she opens her mouth to object, you cut her off.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom, okay?”

Lily watches you, trying to read the small line between your eyebrows, but eventually she nods and lets go of you, letting you turn away from her. You push through the door to the women’s restroom, your nose wrinkling at the smell, but you ignore it. Standing in front of the sink, you watch yourself, hands shaking. This isn’t you. You’re better than this at shoving these feelings for Tyler down, way down – or, rather, you had been, up until this week broke you, apparently. Turning the knob for the cold water to the left, you let it run over your sore hands, hissing at the feeling. Carefully, you cup your palms and watch them fill, then splash the water onto your face, soothing the flush. There. That should help.

There’s a cold bottle of Coors in front of the seat next to Dexter when you arrive back to the group, “Red Wine Supernova” playing from the speakers. You almost snort at all the old men – regulars, no doubt – groaning out their distaste for whoever chose the music all across the room.

“Thanks,” you toss over your shoulder at Tyler, sitting on the other side of Dexter and Boone. He nods and nurses his own. You frown and settle onto the stool, leaning an elbow on the bartop so you can turn and face your friends. The cold beer against the palms of your hands feels so nice.

What’s wrong with him? He won’t make eye contact with you, and you notice his jaw clicking as he grits his teeth. What’s got his panties in a twist?

As the night unfolds, you find yourself laughing more and more, loosening up, letting the stress of the last week fade into memory. Someone has produced a deck of cards from God knows where and Dani – who did join the group eventually – is showing off card tricks you didn’t even know they knew. You feel a warmth spreading through your body, and you can’t stop thinking about how much you love all of these people. Your friends. Your family. Empty bottles are swiftly replaced with full, cold ones without notice, and everyone is languid, relaxed, unburdened by the work that you’re all doing.

You take a pull from your drink, using the cover of the bottle to risk a glance to Tyler three seats down from you to find that he’s already watching you, and the look in his eye tells you exactly what he’s thinking. That somersault-y feeling is lower than your stomach now. You’re only three beers deep, but the air in your head reminds you that you’ve barely eaten all day, so you’re a little more affected by the alcohol than you’d usually be. Impolitely, you reach across Dexter next to you to grab a handful of peanuts from the basket to his left.

Glancing back up at Tyler, you meet his heady gaze again, and he smirks around the lip of the bottle against his mouth. He knows he’s got you right where he wants you. You swallow nervously around another sip of beer.

Every once in a while, the two of you will get a little too drunk, stay until last call, sneak back to your motel room, and fuck. Nobody knows – at least you don’t think they do – and you never talk about it when you’re sober. Tyler will generally stay until you fall asleep, but he’s always gone when you get up the next day. Only once has he woken up in bed with you the next morning, and you’ve never made that mistake again. There isn’t a name for what you feel for him, you don’t think, and you can’t tell what he thinks of the arrangement. Clearly he likes it, or he wouldn’t be making eyes at you from across three people’s laps as you pull these peanuts from their shells.

“Alright, y’all,” Lily says, slapping a hand on the bar, startling you out of your thoughts. You watch her, popping a nut into your mouth. “Think I’m gonna head out. I suggest you all do, too, fuckers, it’s late.”

Everyone starts to protest, but one glance at the clock tells you you’ve all stayed much longer than you thought – it’s a quarter past midnight, and you’ve got to be up with the daylight. You balk, but if you want to talk to Tyler tonight, you know you’ve got to shoulder your exhaustion and stick it out a little longer.

“I think I might stay for a bit,” you murmur, watching everyone stand and gather their things. You glance over at Tyler, who you can see clearly now that everyone’s out of their seats, and he’s watching you, too. The look on his face reads plain, now – he wants you.

“I’ll stay with her,” he says, eyes on yours. The green in them has disappeared almost completely, you notice, his pupils blown wide. “Walk her back. Y’all head back if you want.”

“I might stay, too –” Boone’s voice cuts off, coughing as Lily elbows him in the stomach, maybe a little too hard. “What the fuck was that for?”

“You’re going to bed, too, Boone,” Dani interrupts, a hand on his shoulder, guiding him towards the door. They poke him once when he starts to protest. “C’mon, now.”

Everyone shuffles out the front, Dexter calling good night, and all of the sudden, it’s just you and Tyler. You don’t know why, but your palms begin to sweat at the thought of being alone with him again. He stands, palming his drink, and slides onto the seat next to you, his body angled towards yours.

He’s never made you nervous like this. You don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you.

“So,” Tyler starts, grinning at you. “You come here often?”

You snort, emboldened by the booze, and he chuckles in response. “Idiot.”

“God, but I do love making you laugh.”

You blush under his scrutinous gaze, and take a quick swig of the dregs of your drink, unsure what to say to that. He mirrors you, taking a sip of his own while his eyes bore into yours. Accusatory.

“You don’t do it much anymore, you know that?”

“Do what?”

“Laugh.”

You press your fingertips to your mouth and Tyler’s eyes follow your hand. “I guess I just haven’t had much to laugh about lately,” you start, sighing deeply. “Tornado season’s been hard this year, and you know how much that – it gets to me. As much as I love what we do. You know. Remember that family a couple weeks back whose daughter was stuck under her bunk bed when it pressed on her too long, lost her leg below the knee? That got to me, Tyler. It did.”

“It gets to me, too,” he murmurs, knocking his knee against yours. “I guess I’m just better at hiding how bad it affects me. You can talk to me about it, though. You can talk to any of us.”

“I know I can,” you breathe, trying to keep your hands from shaking. “I know. Sometimes I don’t know what to say, though, you know, what is there to say? It’s not fair to complain about how sad it makes me to watch these people lose everything.”

“You’re allowed to feel sad. And to feel frustrated. It’s not fair, you’re right, but we’re doing good work, yeah? Fighting the good fight. Figuring out what makes these things tick, how to warn people when they’re in the path, get them outta the way and safe. Maybe they lose their house, their car, but they won’t lose themselves, or each other. That’s what matters most. Just remember that.”

You look up at him, set your elbow on the bartop, and prop your chin on your open palm. Your hands don’t hurt so bad anymore, you notice. “Thanks, Tyler.”

“Anytime,” he smiles, but you shake your head.

“Seriously. You always know what to say.”

A look crosses his face then, too quick for you to read, and he sets his drink down, flagging the bartender over to close out the team’s tab. You frown, wondering if you’d, ironically, said the wrong thing.

“What’s up?”

Tyler looks back to you, and this time, the look in his eyes is unmistakable. It burns. “Taking you home, sweetheart.”

The walk back to your motel is done in silence. Tyler’s hand swings next to yours, and you feel it searching for yours more than once, but you don’t take it. You climb the stairs together, slowly, and he walks you to your door. His room is one more floor up.

You can tell he thinks you won’t invite him in, that you’ve changed your mind – or maybe that you never made it up. He hadn’t, after all, told you plainly that that was why he’d stayed with you at the bar. You unlock the room with your key card and step inside, opening the door only far enough for you to fit through it. You turn back to look at him, his face awash in the street lights shining into the hallway. You flip the lightswitch on next to you, illuminating the room behind you, too.

“Well,” he murmurs, making to head back down the stairs. “Good night.”

“Tyler?”

His head turns back to look at you, watching as you hold out one hand and he takes it, letting you pull him closer to you. You press yourself into him, push your whole face against his chest, your hip keeping the door from closing on the two of you. You inhale deeply, the smell of him overtaking your senses. His cologne, yes, but underneath that, the smell of dirt, earth. Home.

You feel his arms wrap around your back and you turn your head to the side, press your ear to his heartbeat. Your hands come up to scratch down his back and you feel it when he shudders.

“Stay?”

You hear his breath hitch in his chest, then the deep rumble of his voice as he says, “Alright, baby.”

With a short inhale, your eyes flutter, nearly closing at the term of endearment. You step back, pulling him with you, and as you close the door behind you, he pushes one hand up into your hair and pulls your head toward his.

“I, uh,” you whisper against his lips when they get close enough to yours, “I think I might shower first, if that’s okay with you?”

“Alright,” he murmurs, unlacing his hand from the strands of your hair before toeing his boots off and carefully setting them under the chair next to the front door. “You want company?”

You swallow. You’ve never done anything like that before. It’s always been quick. When you do this with him, you hardly ever have time for a chat before he’s got your shirt over your head and his mouth on your skin.

“Sure,” you reply. You feel him watch as you turn around and pull your shirt off, reaching back to unclasp your bra. The modesty feels redundant, but you can’t help it.

“Not gettin’ shy on me now, are you? S’not like I haven’t seen you naked before,” he chuckles, and you throw a look at him over your shoulder just as he’s pulling his own shirt over his head. He left his hat at the bar, you think. You’ll have to go back in for it when you pick up the truck.

“Tyler,” you scold, and he laughs at you, steps across the room to wrap an arm around your torso and press a kiss to where your neck meets your shoulder. The place he knows makes you melt. You sigh and push back against him, the feeling of his hard chest against your bare back a welcome one. This feels more like what you know, what you’re used to.

“Shower,” you remind him, and he nods, his forehead pressed into that spot now, and he pushes his fingers underneath the waistband of your jeans, running them along the bit of skin there around to the front, where the fabric splits at the button. He pops it undone, then uses his thumb and forefinger to grip the zipper and slowly – so slowly – pulls that down. He can’t help himself, you know that, and so you hold your breath and wait for him to push his hand into your panties. Ever a predictable man, he does just that, and you gasp at the feeling of his warm hand against you.

“Are you sure?” Tyler’s breath against your neck makes you shiver, and you press your ear to the side of his chin. He runs his fingers along the seam of you, finding first your clit, your legs twitching at the sudden rush of pleasure when he brushes his hand against it, then pushing down to find you wet and wanting. You cry out softly. “You don’t sound sure. You don’t feel sure.”

You hum, your neck stretching back until your head is pressed to his chest, and he pulls his hand back up to start working small circles on your clit, your wetness on his fingers allowing for smooth movement, with just enough friction to have you panting for more.

“Sounds more to me like you kinda want me to fuck you with my fingers.”

“Tyler,” you whimper, telling him with just his name that you are getting close. He smiles against the side of your neck, pulling his hand away and shoving your jeans and underwear down just enough that his hand has room to smack your clit lightly. You squeal, right leg kicking out at the feeling, and he continues moving his hand in circles to soothe the hurt.

Your breath is coming out of you in short huffs, and before you can come, Tyler takes his hand off of you and wraps it around your stomach to join the other. You pant and whine, rubbing your thighs together to chase the feeling he’d had you practically pressed up against, now ebbing with the loss of his fingers.

“You said you wanted to shower,” he whispers in your ear, pulling your panties back up, and you scowl, pushing away from him. He laughs and holds his hands up in defense as you pick your t-shirt up off your bed and crack it at him like a whip. “Let’s shower, baby.”

“I might kick you out right now, Owens,” you snark, but the small smile on your face gives you away, and Tyler unbuttons his own jeans, leaving them in a pile on the floor at the end of the bed. Your jeans join his, and you’re both left in your underwear.

“You wouldn’t,” he replies, pulling his briefs off slowly, biting his bottom lip as you watch him. “You like this cock too much.”

You can’t help laughing at him, but the sight of him bare in front of you does have you biting your lip. You step forward to cup his growing length in your hand. Before you can move it, Tyler puts a hand on your wrist.

“How’s your hand?” He makes to pull it away, presumably to turn it over and appraise your blisters, but you shake your head.

“S’fine,” you whisper, tightening your grip. You tug once, twice, and press a kiss to his bare chest, then tip your head back to search out his lips. He leans down to oblige you, his lips parting against your mouth as you twist your fist. You love these moments you share with him, when you’re both bare, physically, emotionally, away from the real world, and you can pretend this is an everyday thing. When you’re not trying to tell yourself you feel nothing for him. Like this is just how it is between you.

Tyler groans when you pull your hand away from him and you click your tongue, press that same hand against his bicep.

“Doesn’t feel so good, now does it?”

Before you even know what’s happening, Tyler is picking you up, one arm underneath your back and the other around the backs of your knees. You look up at his face and laugh. “Put me down, Owens!”

He grins and carries you the few paces into the bathroom, placing you on your feet in front of the tub. Tyler leans down and pushes his thumbs underneath the waistband of your panties, waiting for you to put your hands on his shoulders and step out of them.

He lets you pull away from him to turn the hot water on, adjusting the cold side until the temperature is perfect, before pulling you against his chest once again. This time, you can feel his hard cock pressed against your backside, and you hum appraisingly. You reach behind you to fist him again, but he shakes his head – you feel his chin brush against the top of your head – and he groans out, “Mm-mm.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna shower, baby, c’mon.”

You glance back towards him and watch as he flicks the overhead light on. “So we don’t slip and die,” he says, and you laugh, pushing the shower curtain to the side. Holding Tyler’s hand, you step over the lip of the tub and under the steady stream of warm water, inhaling deeply when it hits the sore muscles in your shoulders and back. Tyler groans at the feeling, too, when he steps in behind you.

“Here, switch with me,” he murmurs, guiding you by your waist until you’re the one underneath the water. You let it fall onto the top of your head, over your face and down the back of your hair, for a moment, eyes closed, relishing the feeling. Tyler reaches both hands up and brushes the water out of your eyes, runs his hand over the top of your head.

“Shampoo?”

You open one eye, the other shut against the water, and nod. You gaze up at him, heart squeezing at the way he’s watching you. His smile widens and he takes the tiny bottle in his hand – it looks even more comically small now – and dumps the product into his other palm, setting the bottle down onto the edge of the tub and rubbing his hands together.

“Turn around.”

You do as he asks, inhaling sharply through your nose when you feel his hands run through the hair at the crown of your head. Your stomach aches with longing as you register how unnaturally intimate this is. His fingers feel so good against your scalp, which is slightly sunburnt, you’re now realizing. He massages the shampoo further into your hair, running his fingers down the back of your neck and across the tops of your shoulders. When he’s satisfied with his shampoo job, he steers you by your arms to face him again, then carefully helps you tilt your head back and rinses it all from your hair.

You watch him pick up the other small bottle from the shelf, warm water still running down the back of your head.

“I’ll do my conditioner,” you murmur, taking the bottle gently from his hands. “It’s a – it’s a science.”

“I am very good at science, if you can recall.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “It’s something I’ve gotten perfectly right. It’ll take just a sec.”

So you work the conditioner through the ends of your hair, avoiding his gaze as he watches your hands first coat your hair in the product, then rinse it out. He reaches forward to run his own fingers across it, as gently as he can.

“Hm,” he makes the noise in the back of his throat, pulling his hand away. “Soft.”

You can hardly look at him, the twisting feeling in your stomach shifting to something warmer, something further from apprehension, something that feels a lot like want. “You?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I’m good. Here,” he says, rubbing his hands across the plane of your upper back. “You’re tense. You worked hard today. Let me help.”

You weren’t going to protest, but before you can, Tyler guides you forward and out of the direct spray of the shower, then presses his thumbs into your muscle. You groan, your head falling forward onto his chest at the feeling, and he chuckles at you, continuing with his hands. “Feel good?”

“So good,” you whimper, and you feel his cock twitch against your stomach.

“You fucking dog,” you joke, and Tyler laughs against you, pushing your hair off the back of your neck and pressing his thumbs in there, too.

“Hey, what can I say? I like making my girl feel good.”

You freeze. His girl? His girl. He hasn’t noticed your reaction, and he keeps pressing his fingers into your sore muscles, pulling one hand away briefly to push the showerhead down and away from the two of you. You glance up, already missing its warmth, but you find that the steam rising around you is doing a good enough job at that.

“Here, baby,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead and guiding you to press your hands against the tiled wall to your left, running his hands down your back.

“What are you –”

Before you can finish the thought, you feel Tyler’s fingers parting the seam of your cunt from – from behind, and you groan at the feeling of his middle finger slipping inside of you.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groans, his knees hitting the floor behind you. You toss a glance at him over your shoulder and your own knees nearly buckle at the way he’s looking up at you – with hunger, and with reverence, and with something else entirely unrecognizable. He looks wild. He looks in love.

One of Tyler’s hands clamps down around your hips and he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh as his finger starts to shift in and out of you. You shiver and push your face into the cool tile, groaning softly when he finds that rough bit of flesh inside of you, the one that makes you come undone if he works it long enough.

“Yeah?” Tyler sounds fucked out already, his voice breathy against your skin, and you can picture the look on his face, the concentrated expression he gets when he’s trying to make you come. You try to focus on the feeling of the shower’s spray where it hits the edge of your foot rather than how good his finger feels inside you because if you think too closely about how good it feels, you’ll get lightheaded. And nobody wants that.

“Yeah,” you reply weakly, and for a few minutes it’s just like that, the only sound in the bathroom the shower, your panting moans, and the noise your pussy makes as he pulls his finger in and out.

“Sound so good for me, baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh again, and you whine, trying to protest when he slips his finger from you. He laughs deep in his chest and lightly smacks the swell of your ass.

“Don’t complain when I’m doin’ somethin’ nice for you,” he jok, and you can feel then that he’s shifting himself around. You want to look over your shoulder, want to see for yourself what he’s doing, but freeze when you feel his palms cupping your ass, his nose pressing against the inside of your thighs.

Your mouth forms the word oh, but no sound comes out until you feel his mouth press against your cunt, tongue pushing inside of you, and then you cry out, chest heaving, when he presses a sloppy, wet kiss to your clit. You pull your face from where it’s still resting against the tile and look down at Tyler to find he’s already looking right up at you. His grip on your ass tightens when you make eye contact with him, and he spreads you open wider for him, eyes narrowing as his tongue flicks again, and again, and again.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he moans against you, the vibrations causing your legs to twitch. You already thought you were going to burst, the steam from the shower, the way he’d washed your hair, the fact that he was in your room at all – it all made you feel slightly insane. To add insult to injury, he’s just pushed two fingers inside of you and immediately found the spot that takes you out, and you start to shake a little.

“Tyler,” you whine, pushing one hand down to grip his hair. He groans when you tighten your hold on it, fucking into you a little faster. “Tyler, fuck, gonna come.”

“So come, baby,” comes his reply, and you do, you come so hard that the toes on your right foot curl until you’re on tiptoe and Tyler has to reach up and grip your waist to steady you. You feel it crest, and peak, then subside, but he keeps working you through it, his mouth moving against you still, and a second, smaller – though still good – orgasm wracks your body right after the first.

You breathe through it, push your foot down so you’re standing flat on the surface of the tub again, and wait for Tyler to pull his fingers out of you.

“Baby,” Tyler groans, squeezing your hips, his fingernails biting slightly into your skin. “You gotta let go’a me, if you want me to get up.”

His voice, fuck, his voice, you think, releasing your grip on his hair and turning to watch him rise from his knees, the tile cold against your back. You surge forward to kiss him square on the mouth and he catches you, smiles against you when you part your lips to taste yourself on his tongue.

“Was that good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, pressing one, two, three more quick kisses to his mouth, before he reaches behind you to turn off the water. “So fucking good.”

Neither of you bother with a towel, instead opting to stumble toward the queen bed in the middle of the room and climb right underneath the covers.

“Hi,” you whisper when you’re settled in, the duvet pulled up under your chin. Your eyes rove over his face, then glance over to the alarm clock behind him. 1:56 in the morning. “You still wanna fuck?”

Tyler snorts, reaching over to poke you in the side, gripping the skin there until you start to laugh. “You still wanna fuck?”

“Yeah,” you reply, grinning, when you catch your breath. “Wanna?”

He’s quiet for a second, watching the duvet rise and fall with each breath you take, before he peels it off of you, using his elbow to push himself up until he’s leaning over you. There’s a rosy flush on your chest, your breasts heaving and it’s all he can do not to lean down and take one of your nipples in his mouth, the one closest to him. Instead, he runs the back of his other hand across your chest, catching against the hard peak, and watches your breath stick to the inside of your throat. You feel yourself subconsciously leaning toward him as his face comes toward you. You want him to kiss you, but instead, he angles his mouth to kiss the skin below your chin.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes against your neck, pressing his open mouth to you there, and you gasp at the feeling – of his mouth against you, and of his praise. It all feels so nice. He just made you come in the shower, and now he’s going to make you come in this bed, hopefully more than once.

You wrap your hands around his back and pull him toward you, watch as he settles in between your thighs. You can feel his thick cock, heavy, insistent, where it presses against you, and you want to take him into your hands, but he has other plans.

With one hand pressed into the pillow on either side of your head, Tyler uses his knees to knock your legs out further, sitting back against his heels when he’s satisfied. He wraps his big hands around your thighs and pulls you closer, smiling down at you. “You’re so beautiful.”

You blush when he repeats himself, suddenly feeling very bare. He’s just as naked as you are, but you can’t help but feel like he’s seen your whole hand, meanwhile you hardly have any idea what cards he might hold. In the dim light from the lamp beside your head, you notice that you can see the green of his irises again. It seems like the shower sobered the two of you up very quickly.

His gaze locked on yours, Tyler takes himself into his hand, groaning at the pressure of his grip after neglecting his own want for so long, but he suddenly curses, pausing just as he’s about to press inside of you.

“What?”

“I don’t have a condom,” he breathes, sitting back again. He runs one hand through his hair, visibly weighing the options.

“It’s okay, Tyler,” you murmur, leaning up onto your elbows. “It’s okay. I have an IUD, and I got screened after the last time I was with someone. I’m good. I’m good if you’re good.”

Tyler heaves a heavy sigh, running his hands up your thighs. “You’re sure? I’m clean, too, cross my heart. But only if you’re sure.”

You nod. “My head is clear. I think I shook off my drunk an orgasm or two ago.”

A grin crosses his face, and you roll your eyes at him before he even opens his mouth. Two? he mouths, then whistles lowly. You smack his stomach, and he grabs your wrist in his hand, lightning quick, pressing a kiss to the pulse point there. Your jaw falls slack, and you go all soft and pliant, letting him pin your hands above your head. His body comes down over yours, and his mouth presses to your cheek, then your forehead, and when your eyes flutter shut, the ghost of a kiss crosses them, too.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good,” he murmurs, and normally if a man were to say that to you, you would immediately regret letting him into your bed. But for some reason, when Tyler says it, it sends that familiar warmth spiraling down into your gut. You know he means it.

Slowly – too slowly – he guides himself back to your entrance, shifting his hips so they’re resting comfortably against yours, and he presses himself inside of you. You hiss; the girth of him, although a welcome stretch, is also a bit of an uncomfortable one. He leans down to kiss you, working you through it with a thumb pressing circles into your clit, sliding himself in bit by bit until he’s fully seated.

A groan pushes out of him when you clench around him, testing the waters.

“Careful,” he murmurs, easing his hips back. “I’d like it if this lasted longer than ten seconds, please.”

You laugh against the side of his head, pull your hands down from where he’d left them above you and wrap yourself around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you. Tyler grips your thighs and starts to work himself in and out of you, carefully, gently, but you squeeze his waist with your knees. Encouraging him. Asking him to pick it up. You can handle it.

His hips start to pull back and snap against yours quicker and quicker, Tyler panting in your ear, lifting up onto his palms and pushing himself off of you. He sits up onto his knees and tilts your hips up for a different angle, one that sets sparks dancing in front of your eyes. You groan, head tossed back, and dig your nails into his thighs as his pace picks up.

“Fuck, yeah, that it, baby? I can feel you – fuck, feel you squeezin’ me.”

You hardly have a voice with the rate he’s slipping in and out of you, barely enough to squeak out, “Fuck,” before your cunt has him in a vice grip, working through another orgasm.

“Ohhh, that’s it, huh, that’s it.” His mouth is going a mile a minute, neither of you really paying much attention to anything he’s actually saying. You’re both focused on his own mounting orgasm – you don’t feel like your body is capable of much more than that – and you weakly clamp down around him once more. His eyes squeeze shut, his hips stutter, and he grits out, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck,” before he slots against you and you feel him filling you. You run a hand down his back, soothing him as he comes, biting your lip at the feeling, foreign but enjoyable.

Tyler groans and glances down to where his cock is softening inside of you. He eases his hips back, cupping your face and pressing a kiss to your forehead as he does. “Shit, I’m sorry, are you okay?”

You nod meagerly, pressing the back of your hand against your warm cheek. He watches you and, assured that you’re not going to pass out on him or anything, stands and hobbles into the bathroom. The sink turns on out of sight, and you close your eyes, listening to the water run. Tyler returns with a warm, wet towel and wipes the inside of your thighs, swiping gently across your cunt, before folding the towel and letting it fall to the floor at your bedside.

You feel loose, calm. Safe. You hardly notice him turn the light off, but you do feel the bed dip beside you as he rejoins you under the covers and pulls you into his arms. You melt against his sturdy chest, his heartbeat under your face a comfort, the rhythmic tick tick tick of it lulling you to sleep. But there’s still one thing you have to know before you can relax completely.

His breathing has started to even out, but he hasn’t snored yet, so you know he’ll still hear you when you ask, “Are you gonna leave?”

He grunts an acknowledgement of your question, nuzzling down into the top of your head.

“Do you want me to stay?”

You know your answer, but you still bite your lip, considering the question. You hadn’t thought before that maybe he left after every night you spent together because he thought you didn’t want to wake up with him. “Yes.”

“Okay,” he murmurs against your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Then I’ll stay.”

If he’s at all worried about what will happen when you wake up tomorrow, he doesn’t show it, but anxiety courses through you at the thought of anyone finding out. Does he want the others to know? Because that’s what it feels like.

“Stop thinking about it,” he whispers, like he can hear your thoughts racing. “It’ll be fine. Just go to sleep.”

Easy for him to say. He’s out like a light. And you’re left alone with your thoughts until you fall into fitful, dissatisfying sleep sometime around when the world outside starts to turn blue.

A pounding on your door wakes you from deep sleep – the deepest you’d gotten all night, at least – and you try to sit up but find there’s a heavy weight on your chest blocking you. You rub the sleep from your eyes, glancing down at the sleeping body next to you. It takes a second for it to register: Tyler’s here.

Tyler’s here. Sidled up against you, arm thrown over your stomach like this is where he belongs. He didn’t leave. He stayed, like he said he would. His face looks so peaceful – so beautiful – you almost hate to wake him.

“Come on, sleepyhead! Time to get a move on!”

Almost. You scramble to push Tyler off of you, ignoring his noises of protest, jumping out from under the covers and grabbing various articles of clothing off the floor to pull over your naked form. You plop back down on the bed, this time on his side, right next to where he’s starting to wake.

“Dude, get up, they’re gonna know you’re not in your room. They’re gonna know you’re in here.”

“So what,” he grumbles, rolling over as you push him and settling deeper into the bed. “Let ‘em.”

You sit up straight, one hand on his arm. “You mean that?”

He hums and turns his neck to glance at you over his shoulder. “Yeah, ‘course I do. You’re my girl.”

Your face flushes a deep pink and Tyler grins, reaching over to wrap an arm around you and drag you back down into the bed, pinning you under him and peppering an assault of open-mouthed kisses all over your face. You grin, thinking that you could get used to this – just not right now.

“Seriously, Tyler,” you laugh, pushing a hand against the side of his face. He squeezes your hip. “We have to get up. We gotta get back out there.”

Tyler sighs, loosening his grip on your body and kneeling over you. “Yeah, you’re right. Alright, alright.”

He stands and takes the top sheet with him, wrapped around his waist, and heads to the bathroom. To brush his teeth, you hope. God.

“You know,” he says, head popping back out into the room, mouth full of toothpaste. “Yesterday. I wanted them to see us holding hands.”

You watch as he smiles at you and disappears back into the bathroom, then fall back onto the bed, hands pressed over your eyes.

Fifteen minutes later, the two of you are dressed, teeth brushed, hair taken care of, day packs slung over your shoulder, and you’re pulling the door closed behind you when you hear a whistle that pulls your attention to the parking lot.

“Damn, Owens!”

The voice makes you jump, and you groan. You thought you were going to get away with the sneaking around, but the rest of your team is watching from next to the RV as the two of you descend the stairs together.

Lily and Dani turn to Boone with smug looks on both their faces, and he rolls his eyes and pulls his wallet from his back pocket. They hold their hands out for him to slap two twenty dollar bills down into.

“What’s that?” You ask when you get close enough to them.

“We had a bet that you and Owens would come out of that room together. Well, that one or his. Didn’t matter which.”

“A bet I just lost,” Boone groans, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I thought for sure…”

The rest of the crew snickers, including Tyler, who won’t look at you. You poke a finger into his chest.

“Did you know about this?”

“No, I swear,” he says, hands up, and you don’t know why, but you believe him. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t drunkenly confess to Lily weeks ago that sometimes we, you know…”

You scoff, almost mad, but then Boone shouts and the scoff turns into a snicker because, hey, you love him, but you can’t help but relish in his defeat.

“So they knew?! That’s cheating!”

He storms off while the rest of you laugh, Dani clutching their side and following him around the side of the building to try to make amends, trailing off, “If it makes you feel any better…”

Lily looks over at you, then at Tyler, a grin swallowing her face. “So, are you guys, like, together now? Or something?”

You look up at Tyler, who’s smiling softly at you, clearly deferring to you to answer that question. You feel a surge of affection for him swell in your chest. Clearing your throat, you turn to Lily.

“Or something.”

#twisters #twisters 2024 #twisters movie #glen powell #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens smut #glen powell x reader #glen powell smut #as a former tyler dater this was soooo triggering for me to write #JFNLKQJBNF

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veltana · 8 months ago

Text

Unleashed - Avengers!Bucky/Fem!Reader

✦ Pairing: Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~4,2k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: Sex pollen adjacent kinda, smut, a bit fluffy, one shot, possessive!Bucky, co-workers/friends to lovers, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praise, creampie, pet names (doll).

✦ Summary: During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions and all he wants is you.

✦ Note: Previously posted on AO3 since I have basically no time or energy to write new stuff. It was titled You’re what I need before but I always hated that title so I decided to re-name it. Bucky is kind of an asshole in this, but it's just because he wants you! As always, reblogs, comments, and asks are very welcome ❤️

Masterlist | AO3

The worst part about watching from afar as a mission goes to shit is that you feel useless. Even as you dispatch medics for the team all you can do is tell them, "Help is on the way."

Captain America shouts orders that you hear through the comms. The wait feels endless until the crew of the quinjet declares that they have spotted the team and there's not much else for you to do but look at your monitors and wait for an update. When you get the call back that the team is secure you breathe a sigh of relief, but then the next message is to prepare the medical staff to receive multiple injuries and chemical exposure. You ask the crew to clarify, but they are too busy, so when you notify the medical center, they prepare a quarantine room.

Sometimes you wish you had a superpower and could be there with them instead of staring at your monitors and doing endless calculations on whatever the team needs. But then when they return they always compliment your work and tell you they don’t know how they managed without you. You try to remind yourself of those moments at times like this.

Once the quinjet is docked and everyone has been accounted for you push away from your desk and remove your headset, taking deep breaths and trying to calm your heart. A moment later a message pops up on your screen, probably because they couldn’t reach you through your comms. [Bucky wants you to come down here]

Your heart does a little flip in your chest, making you scowl. He is your friend and probably injured, you have no idea why he would be asking for you, but it’s not because he feels the same way you do. You grab your tablet and head to the MedBay.

When you get down you take stock of the situation. Nat and Steve have some scratches, Sam's arm is broken and Wanda has a few cracked ribs. Tony is bruised, his suit had taken most of the damage. You look around for Bucky but don’t see him anywhere and quickly deduce that he must be the person currently in quarantine.

When you get to the wing, you’re almost too scared to go in, afraid to see what could have happened to him. Inside, you find a team of medical personnel discussing Bucky's condition with him through a glass wall. His hair looks damp and he's wearing standard-issue quarantine clothing, soft black pants, and a black sweatshirt. When he sees you standing patiently at the side he says. "You can come back later. I need to talk to her more than I need to talk to you. Go away." His voice comes from speakers in the ceiling.

You're shocked by his behavior but smile apologetically as the white coats pass you on their way out. When you get up to the glass you hiss. "Bucky, what is wrong with you, don't be rude.” "You make it sound like I'm never rude otherwise," he laughs. "You're not rude to healthcare professionals, you know better." You glare at him as you wake your tablet. “Now what did you need me for?”

"Do you like me?" he asks. Your mouth falls open and your heart starts to beat faster. You’re happy your vitals aren’t monitored as you quickly collect yourself and try to deflect his question. "Of course I like you Bucky, you're my friend." But now it feels weird to look at him and you find a spot on the wall far behind him to focus on.

"What if I want more than friends?" is his next question and despite your best efforts, hope warms your chest. This is not happening. Of course you toyed with the idea of you and Bucky, he is always sweet to you, and if he has the chance he brings you gifts from the missions. But you’ve told yourself repeatedly that he needs someone stronger, who can keep up with him in the field and you’re not that person.

"Can we have this conversation when you are not high on some HYDRA drug?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from betraying you. They are monitoring everything in the room. And there is a sheet of unbreakable glass in between you both. If you're going to confess your feelings, it won't be like this.

"I'm not high," he huffs. "My mind has never been clearer." "I still think we should have this conversation later." "Doll, look at me." The command in his voice is so strong you don’t think, you snap your eyes to his and they are so blue and soft.

"I will feel the same tomorrow, and the day after, whenever this drug wears off but now is the only time I can't hold my tongue," he explains. You place your hand on the glass and he does the same on the other side. "It will be fine Bucky, I promise," you say just as the door opens and Steve walks in, making you pull your hand back to your side. He's showered, in a fresh pair of clothes and he swings his arm over your shoulder.

"Stop hogging her time Bucky, I know for a fact that she also needs to debrief," he smiles but Bucky looks as if he's seeing red. Through gritted teeth he presses out, "Get your fucking arm off her, punk. She's mine."

You and Steve burst into laughter because it has to be a joke, but then Bucky punches the barrier with his vibranium arm. The glass doesn't crack but both you and Steve stop short and step away in shock. Steve removes his arm and says, "I'll meet you upstairs." Before quickly heading out.

You turn to Bucky and point at him, anger rising in your chest. "What is wrong with you? Steve is your friend!" "That is what it’s like in here every day,” he points to his head. You're taken aback by his statement and his wide feral eyes. Clearly, whatever he was exposed to had messed with his head and he's not himself. “Bucky I need to go,” you tell him, and before he can protest you continue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile feebly at him and are out the door before he can say anything else.

After debriefing and having dinner you go to bed early. Your head is spinning with the day and most of all, Bucky.

It's way past midnight when you wake to the soft closing of your door. Since you always sleep with a night light the soft warm glow reflects off his left arm and leaves no doubt about who has entered your room. You blink at him but before you can ask a question he rasps out, pleading. "I need you. So bad. Please doll, help me." He moves closer to your bed.

You quickly remove your covers and get up, glad the giant t-shirt covers you to your thighs, ready to spring into action. "Anything Bucky, what do you need?" You stop an arm's length from him, but all he does is reach his hand out to cup your face, letting his thumb stroke your cheek. There is a wild look in his eyes but you keep calm. "I can't get you what you need if you don't tell me," you whisper, meeting his eyes and watching as his brow furrows.

"I need you. Right now. If I don't get to touch and taste every inch of your body I'm going to lose my mind," he confesses in a low voice. His words shock you and you hitch a breath. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. You have this great friendship. If things were different you would not have minded taking it to another level, but with the day in mind and the fact that he somehow got out of his containment room you say, "Bucky, you’re not yourself, you need to get back to-”

"Doll,” he interrupts with a hard voice. “For once, I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. The only thing the drug did, I think, was remove my inhibitions. For once I feel free. My mind isn't controlled by HYDRA or by fear that you'll reject me. All I know is that I crave you and I can't be quiet about it anymore.”

"Bucky… I…" your whole body is flushed with warmth from his words and you're not sure how to respond. "I dreamt about you and couldn't stop myself from going over here. I don't want to hurt you, doll, but I'm not sure this drug will let me leave. All I wanna do is move closer to you.” You swallow hard as he continues, thumb still stroking your cheek. “Ask FRIDAY to get Steve, or the Hulk if you want me to leave."

Instead, you step into him, making up your mind in an instant and resting your hands on his chest. "Stay, I'll be glad to help you with anything you need," you whisper honestly and by the way his eyes widen there was still some doubt in his mind that you would reject him.

Instead of saying anything his vibranium hand grasps your waist and pulls you closer. There is no escaping the smell and size of him and his hands on you got your pussy throbbing for him already.

"I hope you understand what you've agreed to," he whispers, leaning closer. "Once I have you I won't stop, you'll never be rid of me. I'll claim you against every surface of this fucking compound if I need to." That makes you whimper and press harder against him. "Fuck you'd like that huh? Are you a kinky little thing? Like getting fucked where people can see you and hear you moan, do you want people to see my hard dick spread you open?" "Fuck Bucky!" You exclaim and lean your forehead against his chest. Maybe that idea excites you or maybe it is just that the word ‘claim’ sounds so primal.

"You're going to tell me all your little secrets later, doll. But now, I'm going to take what's mine." And with that, he crushes his lips to yours. He backs you towards the bed, kissing you the whole time, letting his hands explore you. When you land on your back, he stands over you with eyes like a predator about to devour its prey.

You shuffle up until your head rests on the pillows, spreading your legs for him. Without taking off any clothes he crawls after you, settling on his knees between your legs and placing his hands on the headboard, crowding you with his large frame. "Mine," he whispers and it makes a shudder pass through you. He ruts his clothed cock against your core, slicking your underwear even more and making you whine, gripping the sheets under you.

"Yes," he almost hisses as the length of his dick presses on your clit and forces a mewl out of you. It's been a long time since you've gotten laid. "Bucky," you plead. "No doll, I'm going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you, from the outside in. Did you think this would be hard and fast and that I would be gone before you knew what happened?"

He lets go of the headboard to put his elbows beside your head instead, his weight on you, pressing you down into the mattress. "When I leave you will long for me, spend every waking second wishing I was still inside you. I want your cunt to be permanently drenched so I can fuck you whenever I please." He kisses you forcefully and any coherent thought that was left in your head flees. "And when you're too sore to take more of my dick in your pussy I'm going to do the same thing to your mouth and ass."

He rids you off your t-shirt and instead of having to move from between your legs to pull off your underwear, he rips them apart. "Ah!" you exclaim when the force of his movements jolts you but he takes no notice, he just stares at you, letting his hands roam up and down your sides, up to your tits, cupping them and caressing your nipples with his thumbs.

Whimpers are coming from you with every pass of this touch. Then he moves down and lays on his stomach, not saying a word as he sweeps his tongue over your pussy before he starts devouring you with a throaty moan.

It doesn’t take long for the first orgasm to take you, his movements are precise and his words and actions have made you hornier than you’ve ever experienced. Or maybe it's because he is the hottest person you’ve ever laid eyes on and he only wants you.

When you’re finished and sensitive he dips his tongue into your hole to taste you and groans loudly, lapping up the wetness from your orgasm. "Better than I've dreamed of," he says when he pulls away. Now you’re the one that must be high because you can't help but giggle. "You seriously dream of me?" "All the time, doll. Every night when I go to bed I wish you were with me and then you plague my sleep with your soft curves and radiant smile."

You're about to tell him how his laugh makes you warm and fuzzy on the inside but at that moment he sucks your clit into his mouth, cutting out every thought in your brain. He's gentle but not hesitant, it's as if he's feeling you out and when you make a particularly loud sound he continues the same movement, making your whole body go hot.

The second orgasm is intense enough to send aftershocks through for a long while afterward. Bucky lays his head on your thigh as you tremble, caressing your skin and letting the fingers of his right hand skim over your opening.

Despite what he's already given you, you still crave more. His fingertips never come close to where you need them and when you whine at the back of your throat Bucky smiles up at you. "Don't worry, I'm not even close to done with you, but I don't want you to pass out on me.” One of his fingers glides inside, making you take a sharp breath just because it feels so good. Once again he is careful, moving slowly, listening to your breath and your body.

"Please Bucky, I need more.” "No need to beg, I'll give you everything you want… in time," he breathes and kisses the skin on the inside of your thigh. Slowly he moves his finger in and out. You're sure it's a form of torture. The sweetest kind there is. Your breathing is labored and when he finally adds a second, you start to quiver.

He nips at your skin and then kisses it before speaking. "You look like a goddess, doll, eyes filled with lust, your skin is gleaming. I'm going to worship you until you're tired of me.” "Never gonna happen," you whimper. Then his thumb lands on your clit, making you cry out. Everything is so sensitive and overstimulated.

"I don't- Bucky, I don't think I can again," you tell him even though his touches are causing your insides to melt. "Yes, you will," his voice is soft but the command is clear. So instead of trying to speak again, you sink further into the madness that is him playing with you. The third one takes its sweet time but you never feel rushed or stressed that it's taking too long. Bucky isn’t in a hurry.

Then it’s suddenly there, crashing through you. "Fuck Bucky, fuck you're gonna make me come." "So good for me, let me feel you come on my fingers," he urges. "I'm going to lick them clean afterward so make sure you get them nice and wet for me. I want as much as you'll give me." The climax reaches its peak and you come with a cry of his name, body convulsing and your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair.

"Just like that doll," he smiles up at you and holds your gaze when he pulls out his fingers and sucks them clean, moaning while he does. It's a filthy sound, but it turns you on as if he didn't just make you come for the third time. Then he dives in between your legs again, licking at your skin and your soaked hole. Letting go of his hair all you can do is just lie there, writhing, as he somehow coaxes a fourth orgasm out of you.

“Fuck me,” you plead when he pulls back. “I need you inside me Bucky.” This time he takes pity on you and moves away to take off his clothes. When he’s naked he kneels between your legs again and you spread them as wide as you can. "Want me, doll?" he asks with a smirk. He swipes his cock through your mess and then uses his hand to coat himself with you. "Yes," is all you can say. Both you and Bucky stare as he pushes his dick into you, filling you up completely. Of course, he takes it torturously slow this time too.

"This feels better than any dream I've ever had," he whispers almost in awe. You grip his biceps and arch into him, pushing him deeper, faster. That makes him tsk but smiles at the same time as he pushes the rest of the way, finally seating himself. Without giving you a chance to relax he starts fucking you, his cock pushes perfectly against your insides, pulling sounds from you that you haven't made in years.

He sits back on his heels lifting your ass effortlessly until your weight is resting on your shoulders and neck. It's like he is in a trance, pulling you onto his cock over and over again. Your body is his, your mind has fled, and all you see and feel is just him all around you. His eyes keep changing between his dick filling your cunt, your bouncing tits, and your half-lit eyes as if he is not sure where to look. "Mine," he rasps and thrusts hard to empathize the word. "All mine. Say it."

It takes some time for your brain to connect to your mouth and form the words but his gaze never leaves you. "Yours," you whimper. "I'm yours, Bucky." There is a familiar heat low in your belly that's steadily spreading through your limbs. It makes you wiggle and move because it's overwhelming. He is overwhelming in the best sense. Whining you reach down to rub yourself but he slaps your hand away. "I thought I told you, it's mine. I own this cunt. If you wanna touch yourself you have to ask permission." It's as close to a growl as is humanly possible and you don't understand how he can be so cognizant right now, because your brain is like putty. "Can I please rub my clit Bucky, I wanna come on your cock so bad," you cry.

"Good girl," he praises, and when he calls you that, your mouth falls open with a keening sound, gripping the sheets even harder, pulling at them because you want to come so bad. "Do it, show me how you get off when you're alone in bed without me." Everything is slippery and sensitive when you start with your fingers and you immediately know it's going to go fast. With his previous words in mind, you ask. "Can I come?" He meets your eyes with a wicked smile. "Fast learner. Yeah, you can come… when I tell you."

You rip your hand away, afraid you might fall over the edge at any second. The sound out of your throat is almost a sob. "Don't be like that, doll, I thought you said you couldn't do it more times?" "I can-I can! As many times as you want just please let me come." "Fuck, I like it when you beg with my cock in you." But he doesn't say anything else, just continues fucking you. He's not even winded while you're straining your entire body. Your hand wants to move back, anything to relieve the pressure inside you but Bucky was very clear and you don’t want to disobey him.

Then he pulls out and drops you onto the bed, but you don't get to relax because he flips you onto your stomach and pushes one of your knees up to the side before he presses in. His dick hits your G-spot dead on and you scream into the pillow under you. Bucky chuckles right by your ear. "Guess I found it." He's merciless, his hips hit your ass hard and if it weren't for his weight pressing you down you would soon hit the headboard.

"Bucky!" you wail because it's too much. You're losing the last pieces of your mind to the sheer force of the pleasure and you're scared you're never going to be able to come back to yourself. Then his hand presses in between you and the mattress. "Rub yourself on my fingers, make yourself cum. Fuck my cock and come all over me doll." You brace yourself as best you can and move your hips as he keeps almost completely still, just shallow thrusts in stark comparison to what he was doing to you just moments ago.

His fingers slide along your clit, his cock brushing your G-spot over and over again. You're breathless, sweat breaking out along your skin, but the climax you're chasing will be well worth it. You just know it.

"I can't fill you up until I’ve felt you come around me," he grunts, his voice tight with holding back. You whimper, the feeling of fire flushing your whole body, and building up to an eruption like no other. "Yes, yes, yes," he chants low in your ear. "That's it, come for me, make me proud. Fuck it feels so good." And he starts moving again "I'm going to fill you fucking full of my cum. That's it!"

The heat in you breaks and you come with a shout of his name, shaking under him. It gets even more intense when Bucky finishes right behind you, groaning your name. He collapses on top of you but his hips are still moving, slowly, as if he doesn’t want it to ever end. Neither would you but your body is wrecked.

When he finally rolls off, you're so close to falling asleep, but he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. "Pee." He points and you want to tell him that you know the drill, this isn't your first time, but all that comes out is a grumble before he closes the door behind him and you sit down on the toilet.

When you're done, you stumble out and have a moment of panic, thinking he left. But then the door opens and Bucky returns with two bottles of water, handing you one before leading you to the bed and sitting you down on the edge. Gratefully you drink and lean against his shoulder before asking. "How do you feel?" "Better than I have in a long time," he answers, kissing your forehead. You chuckle. "Yeah I have a magical pussy, it can cure anything," you joke and it makes him laugh. "You should get back to quarantine," you comment. "Before anyone notices." He shakes his head. "No I'm staying here, I'm never leaving you again." He takes the bottle from your hand and places it on the bedside table together with his own. Then he crawls beneath the sheets and you go after him, letting him envelop you in a tight embrace before you fall asleep.

Alarms blare and you wake with a start. "FRIDAY what's going on?" you ask out into the room. “Sergeant Barnes has escaped his confinement.” The voice echoes through the room. You sigh and glare at Bucky grumbling beside you, like the loud signal is just a regular alarm clock. "FRIDAY please inform the team that Bucky is here and everything is fine."

A second later the sound dies and with a sigh you get up to pull on yesterday's discarded t-shirt and find a pair of pants. Right when you're done there is a knock on the door and Steve asks, "Everything okay in there?" You open the door enough to show yourself. "We're fine, he broke out during the night and came here." "Oh," Steve says and there is a hint of blush on his cheeks.

Then you feel a presence behind you and Bucky’s arm goes around your waist. "Mine," he says and you can't see him but he's probably glaring daggers at Steve who backs away. "We'll be okay, I'll alert FRIDAY if I need help," you tell Steve. When you close the door Bucky turns you before pushing you up against it and kissing you hard. "Mine," he mumbles against your lips. "Fucking caveman," you tell him. He grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder. "I'll show you caveman," he says and carries you to the bed

#veltana writes #bucky barnes #avengers!bucky barnes #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #posessive!bucky barnes #possessive!bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #possessive!bucky #posessive!bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky fanfic

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yourlocalbadgerscales · 2 months ago

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90 notes: I’ll post some random shit I’ve been planning to post forever

160 notes: I’ll post a chapter of a fic I have drafted on Ao3 (y’all if I don’t post it before Oct 2 it’ll automatically delete itself so please save my fic before it’s too late oml)

250 notes: I’ll start going on walks at least once a week (I really need motivation)

370 notes: I’ll tell my best friend some big news about my identity (why am I so scared? Idk)

530 notes: I’ll post an audio of me singing something (you can wish for any song in the comments if you like!)

1660 notes: I’ll post a lot of shit I have in my Tumblr drafts + I’ll gather the courage ask my friends for a little money so I can buy myself my own phone (I need a second one in case anything bad happens to me and I have to run away from home. No, I won’t elaborate.)

1850 notes: I’ll take more time to do the things I love this winter.

2000 notes: I’ll wear my lesbian pin in front of my mum and hope she sees it.

2300 notes: I’ll tell my therapist a lot of things… things she probably needs to know but I’m scared to tell her.

2800 notes: I’ll try to talk to my crush in school. Small talk, okay? Nothing more. I’m so scared don’t make me do it-

3100 notes: I’ll finish reading Art Heist, Baby! (No. Please.)

I won’t be tagging anyone because y’all are insane and I’ll be forced to keep my promises… sigh

ONLY TWO NOTES PER PERSON!!! Edit: Yup only 2 notes. Can y’all tell I really don’t wanna do all this lol

DOBT MAKE MUNOIST GET TO 2800 BECAISE I DONT WANT TO DO WHAT MY FROEMD WANST ME TO DO AJSHSJSJSJ

#ellastag #ahb #art heist baby!#gender identity #sexuality #to do list #yourlocalbadgerscales #motivation #crushes

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mountainsandmayhem · 6 months ago

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BDSMaid - Chapter 1

Masterlist || AO3

Pairing: Millionaire Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: 18+ Chapter Summary: To save money for law school, you accept a job at Maid Discretely; a high end, anonymous cleaning service. You aren’t supposed to know whose home you’re cleaning, but your curiosity is peaked by your first client, and when the two of you have a shocking and surprising run in, more than just your curiosity peaks. CW: Author chooses not to use warnings in this chapter in order to avoid spoilers. While I never want to trigger anyone, you are solely responsible for the content you consume. AN: Oh boy, here we go! I'm in a straight PANIC getting ready to post this. I hope it meets all your expectations, I was not at all expecting that reaction to the teaser post. Love you all and thank you for all your support. Please share or comment, I have a praise kink LOL. Follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on notifications for future chapters. Dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Thank you @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @joelmillerisapunk and @burntheedges for being my little cheerleaders over this, ily!! Chapter Word Count: 4.4k

You stare down at the very intimidating legal document you have clasped in your clammy hands. There are so many big legal sounding words that seem to be mocking you with their importance. Somehow there are clauses that have sub clauses that are then further broken down into sub-subclauses. It feels heavy to be handed this on a Monday morning. Truthfully, this doesn’t seem like something a soon-to-be twenty-one year old woman who literally just graduated college, albeit a semester early, should be allowed to sign without parents and a lawyer present.

This is just supposed to be a simple job working part time as a maid for your best friend's family’s cleaning company. A job where she promised easy money and part time hours that you set for yourself. The perfect opportunity for you to be able to save money AND set aside lots of study time for your upcoming LSAT rewrite. You passed it a few months ago and applied to a bunch of law schools, but you aren’t going to waste these next few months waiting around. You know how competitive law schools can be, so you’re preparing to be better just in case you don’t get in.

Your eyes scan words that your brain can’t seem to comprehend. The internal panic starts to bubble in your chest, someone who has law aspirations should know what these words mean.

This is just supposed to be easy. Cleaning. Vacuuming. Washing floors. Simple things.

But now, as you sit in this shiny, fancy downtown office building looking at your full legal name typed beside a bunch of ‘initial here’ and ‘sign here’ lines on a nondisclosure agreement you’re starting to feel like this is anything but simple.

“Our clientele is VERY exclusive,” your childhood best friend Jamie says. She looks very professional and grown up sitting behind her glass desk. Her long, toned legs are crossed, the slit along the side of her crisp, white pencil skirt showing off her tanned upper thigh. She’s paired her white skirt with a baby pink silky blouse that's perfectly tucked into the high waist of the skirt. Her long, dark silky hair is twisted into a jeweled claw clip. Even though you’re the same age she has an air of sophistication and grace, even with winged eyeliner, a matte pink lip, and a slender rose gold septum ring that sits tight to her little button nose. She almost screams old Hollywood in the middle of Austin, Texas.

She continues, “You won’t know the names of the clients and they will never be home. If they do come home, leave immediately, and try your best not to be seen or heard. Then you can fill out in the company app what you did and didn’t manage to get done.”

You put the paper down on her perfect desk so she can’t see your hands shaking. How can you work at that desk all day and not get a single fingerprint or smudge on it? There’s a very good chance that I am not cut out for this. This is fancy. And expensive. I’m neither of those things.

“What am I gonna be walking in on at these houses, Jamie?” You ask, swallowing the fiberglass that’s suddenly prickling at your throat.

Jamie shakes her head and laughs, saying your name through her melodic giggles. “Most likely nothing. We’ve never had an encounter or run in with a client. They pick times for cleaners to come when they aren’t home.” She leans back in her high backed chair and continues, “But the clients are big deals. Politicians. Judges. Athletes. The odd celebrity. They don’t want anyone in their home that will snoop or snap pictures. Hence the NDA.”

“Well, why didn’t you start with that!” You laugh. “Jesus, I thought I’d be walking into like a virginal sacrifice or some shit!”

“Well, there was that one time…” Your face drops and she immediately starts laughing again. “I’m kidding. Relax. Look, you’ll probably get three homes a week, each house will take six to eight hours. The hourly pay is twenty dollars plus whatever tip they’ll leave you in these black envelopes.”

She puts a perfectly polished finger on a stack of black envelopes with a red ‘Maid Discretely’ logo on it and continues, “In my experience, the tips are around five hundred, completely tax free. This is a good gig! You’ll be in law school becoming smarter than all of us in no time. Fuck, you’ll be writing insane contracts like those before we know it.”

She stands, one hand resting on the desk while the other slides the paper towards you with a closed pen. She drops the writing apparatus on top of it, the metal casing of the pen clanging loudly on her glass desk. You let out an exasperated sigh, dramatically clicking the pen before signing the NDA. Jamie claps her hands excitedly then snatches the contract away before you can rip it up and says, “Let’s get your uniform and supplies!”

She hands you a few fitted white polo style t-shirts, black dress pants, white Keds (that she scolds are for inside the houses only), a caddy full of high end cleaning supplies, a top of the line Dyson vacuum and everything else you’ll need.

She ends your meeting with instructions on how the company's scheduling and tracking app works. "Essentially, you set the days and times you’re available and it will populate for you. You’ll have addresses, dates and times, as well as tasks to be done, all nicely laid out for you. If a client likes you, they can request you for additional shifts, but for continuity purposes you should get the same couple houses that you’ll rotate through throughout the month."

You nod along, mostly surprised to hear the girl who did a keg stand just a few days ago sound so professional, using words like 'continuity purposes'.

The next day you have your first official shift. Tuesday from nine to three and you’re scheduled at a mansion in a neighborhood you’ve never heard of and you most definitely wouldn’t fit in to. Jamie is already waiting there for you when you pull up. She explained yesterday that she’d help you with the first one and then you are on your own after that. Well, not completely alone. Your iPhone is loaded full of smutty audio books, murder podcasts, and law books to listen to as you clean.

Jamie was right, you think to yourself as you scroll to the latest romance novel you’ve downloaded and grab your AirPods, this is a good gig.

The house is absolutely massive, and you highly doubt you’ll be done in six hours. You gather all your stuff and head up to the house. Jamie shows you where the company supplied key box is and how to open it from the app. As you grab the key Jamie excitedly says, “This used to be my client. He always leaves a huge tip!”

You unlock the large front glass door and enter into a white marble foyer. The windows on the first floor are easily ten feet tall and allow in so much natural light. Gold and obsidian swirls in the marble reflect along the walls, dancing in the sunlight. To the left of the front door is a large open kitchen that might be bigger than your entire apartment. The marble of the expansive countertop is the same colour as the foyer. All the cabinetry is matte black with brushed gold handles. The kitchen opens into a lavish living room, a massive fireplace and TV sits on the far back left wall, encompassed by a very cozy looking white sectional.

To the right of the front door, starting furthest away from where you stand in awe, is a door to a huge half bathroom, followed by a long table with a bowl for keys and mail, and then the door that leads to the garage. About fifty feet in front of you is a grand staircase that branches out to the left and right. Beyond the staircase you can see into the backyard. This is by far the nicest house you’ve ever been in.

As both you and Jamie slip into your keds she says, “Upstairs to the left are a few bedrooms and the office. I usually started there and then went to the right side where he has a huge entertainment area. Then I would clean down here since he doesn’t cook very often and it’s usually just a quick wipe down.”

Just as you start to panic over how you’re supposed to remember all this she nudges you and adds, “But that’s all in the app for you, most of the clients are very particular so they’ll lay out exactly what order you should be cleaning in, as well as any other extra things they need done.”

She helps you carry all your stuff upstairs and then watches you work. Sure enough, the app says to start in the office so you do just that. Careful not to disturb the few piles of paperwork you dust the desk and shelves and then wipe down the windows and computer screen. You vacuum the hardwood and plush rug last and after Jamie gives you an approving nod, you move onto the next room.

You continue like that, going from room to room, your friend, and now boss, occasionally giving feedback or leaving to answer a phone call or respond to an email. The job is easy enough; repeating the same steps in each room over and over again. It’s the exact type of work you exceed at. You enjoy having clear sets of instructions and expectations, and a prioritized list where you can start at the top and work down. You’ve always excelled at following meticulous directions in school. Your life maybe not so much. When it comes to dating or your parents you aren’t one to do what you’re told.

When one o’clock rolls around you just have one bathroom upstairs and the already pristine downstairs to tend to, but Jamie coaxes you into taking your break, which is another thing you’re bad at. You were raised not to take breaks, taking a break or doing nothing means you're lazy. You should be working all the time, and pushing yourself to accomplish things. As a child you’d push and push yourself to be the best, honor roll ceremonies were the only time your dad would show up. He’d smile and brag about you to whoever was around.

“It’s important that you take all your supplies to your car with you when you eat your lunch. Never eat in their homes and never park on their driveways.” You nod and hoist all your stuff to the front step. “Make sure you lock up like you’re leaving too.”

“How am I doing so far?” You ask as you lock the door, your stomach growling loudly as if it needs to prove to her how hard you’re working. You hadn’t realized how much of an appetite you’d gain just from cleaning. The few stale crackers and small can of tuna you managed to find in your cupboard this morning doesn’t seem like it’s going to be enough.

“Really well! I actually think I might leave you to finish up. Don’t forget to take whatever he left for you out of the black envelope on the kitchen counter.” She doesn’t look up at you, her fingers tapping out an email on her shiny iphone screen. She doesn’t have her phone in a case and you can only imagine the level of self confidence you have to have to carry around an expensive item unprotected like that.

“Is it weird that there’s no pictures or anything of the family that lives here?” You say curiously as you both walk towards your parked vehicles.

“No,” she says flatly. “I think it’s just one person here and that’s pretty normal for the houses you’ll be cleaning. Lots of them are rarely home or only home to sleep.”

You gawk at the massive house from across the street as you throw all your supplies in the back of your used and rusted SUV. One person lives here. Alone. How is this possible? He’s clearly doing well for himself. Either he’s really lonely or a complete asshole.

After you eat, you head back inside to finish up cleaning. The entire house looks like a show home. Not a single thing out of place. The kitchen seems staged, void of life aside from a tiny droplet of coffee on the countertop beside the Italian coffee maker, and a tiny brown stegosaurus toy that sits on top of it. Two minutes before the end of your shift you do a final sweep to make sure you haven’t left anything behind and then slip open the black envelope. Inside you find seven one hundred dollars and a note that just says ‘TY - JM’.

As you log your day in the company app you can’t believe you just made seven hundred freaking dollars to clean up after a man who makes no messes. You excitedly check your upcoming schedule and it looks like you’ll be back here in two more weeks. You could potentially be getting fourteen hundred dollars a month from this elusive “JM”. A man with no pictures or personal touches in his shiny white, black and gold mansion.

It’s been almost two weeks since your first clean at JM’s house. Your other clients were good tippers, usually between four to five hundred, but you’ve been looking forward to going back. You know you’re not supposed to know who the clients are, but you couldn’t help but google JM to try to figure out who he is and how he has so much money. In hindsight, you guess all your clients have money, but something about him has alerted your curiosity. He seems like smoke, or a ghost, in his own home. Your other clients had some sort of semblance of life in their houses. A dent in the pillow. An open newspaper on the kitchen table. A coffee cup dropped in the sink before they headed off to whatever fancy job they have to afford such a massive house. A toilet seat left up or a smudge of toothpaste on the mirror.

But not JM.

No, the only thing JM left was a tiny droplet of coffee. Coffee that was probably imported straight from Italy. You’re almost ashamed of the amount of times you’ve wondered about that stegosaurus toy. It seems so out of place in his house of clean lines and sterility.

You’re just settling in to enjoy a Sunday night of sushi, rosé and Bridgerton with your roommate when your phone bings, a little red notification bubble popping up on the Maid Discretely app. You have an added shift request for JM tomorrow. Instead of one six hour shift on Tuesday you now have two six hour shifts. You accept the request and scroll through the tasks. He’s requested you to wipe the baseboards and lightswitches on the main floor, a deep scrub of every bathroom, as well as doing the inside of the fridge, stove and microwave. There are also instructions for washing the sheets in the main bedroom, and spraying down the patio furniture around the pool.

Only a millionaire in Texas would ask for his pool furniture to be cleaned in February.

Shortly after you accept the shift you get a text from Jamie:

Saw you accepted the shift. The client asked for the normal clean on the first day, please. Extras the next day. Thanks.

The following morning you head to the large, bright mansion. Parking across the street and hauling all your stuff in. It feels a bit weird to be here on a Monday and you have a feeling you’ll be reminding yourself all day that it is indeed Monday and not Tuesday.

You get all your stuff together, change into your indoor company issued keds and head up the stairs. The pink and orange hues of the sunrise glitters off the white marble tiles, glints of gold and sparkling black reflecting off of it. You take a second to look down from the landing as you pop in your airpods. It really is a beautiful home, and it’s too bad that whoever lives here is either lonely or an asshole, but for a split second you let yourself pretend that you and JM just finished making love and he’s now in the kitchen making you an espresso or a latte with that insanely fancy coffee machine in the kitchen. You shake your head at yourself. You didn’t find anything when googling, which isn’t surprising since two letters aren’t much to go on, but this house seems to draw you in, like it’s calling to you. It’s strange, it’s almost like you have a crush on this house and you couldn’t help but make a whole persona for whoever lives here. Even with its clean lines and lack of life, something about it settles in your gut, it feels like home.

You scroll your podcast app trying to pick what episode you want to listen to and head down the hall, you can’t seem to decide so you pocket your phone without starting anything and reach for the matte black handle of the office door. You’re expecting to see JM’s tidy office with a few stacks of paperwork in one corner, but the sight you find before you has all the blood rush from your head and your stomach dropping right out of your body. Your jaw drops and you freeze in utter shock and fear.

Instead of the usual stacks of paper, there’s an icy blond haired woman tied to the desk. She’s completely naked and on her back with her legs spread wide. Her ankles are tied to the legs of the desk with a scratchy looking rope, her wrists wrapped in matching rope and resting above her head. Her nipples are almost purple underneath the clothespin attached to them. You freeze, just the lewd wet noises of her pussy being worked furiously by the mysterious, fully clothed JM. His deep, commanding, gravel filled voice reverberates through the office. “Little fuckin' slut. Gonna split you in two.”

The woman lets out an unashamed cry of pleasure. Your entire body seems to go numb as your caddy falls from your hand, crashing loudly against the hardwood flooring. His head whips to the side, the icy blonde woman letting out a scream and trying to cover herself up. Your hands cover your mouth and even though you can’t feel your legs you spin and run for the stairs.

“Fuck. Fuck. Wait,” JM calls after you.

One of your AirPods falls from your ear as you run, you’re tempted to stop and grab it but you need to get out of here. Jamie’s voice echoes through your skull, ‘try your hardest not to be seen or heard’.

He catches up to you as you reach the front entryway, his strong hand pushing the door closed. You can feel the heat of his body against your back. You’re shaking - both from being terrified and embarrassed. You have so many thoughts running through your mind. This will get you fired, or worse, you could have just possibly lost the company a client. Fuck. You aren’t supposed to know who lives here and you certainly aren’t supposed to see them doing that.

“Please wait,” he says softly behind you and the heat of his broad body sends a chill down your spine.

The blood is rushing through your ears as your heart pounds in your throat. You don’t like confrontation and even with the softness in his voice, you’re sure he’s about to scream at you. You feel sick, and when you replay the words he said to the woman upstairs, and the sound of her moan that made you drop your caddy you start to feel dizzy and nervous.

Your hand falls from the handle of the front door and the brick wall of a man behind you steps back. You spin slowly to face him but keep your eyes on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, linking your fingers in front of you and focusing all your attention on the cuticle of your right thumb.

“No, please. This is my fault.” You trail your eyes from the floor to him. He's in perfectly pressed black dress pants paired with a white dress shirt. The sleeves are rolled to his forearms and he’s holding his hands up in front of himself as if to show you he isn’t armed or as a way to say 'you’re safe here'.

You flick your eyes up to his face and he’s looking at you softly, the morning sunrise lighting up his tanned face and salt and pepper hair. JM is probably twice your age, but he is incredibly handsome.

“I am so sorry. I must’a got my days mixed up when I booked you.” He says, a soft southern accent sneaking out.

“I’m going to get fired,” you respond shakily.

“No,” he says stepping forward, you subsequently take a step back, pressing your body against the glass front door. Something about this man makes you nervous, but not in the same way women are trained to be nervous of strange men that are almost twice their size. “No. This is my fault. Please, let me explain. I jus’ gotta - well, can I go deal with…” his head cocks towards the stairs, “And then let me explain. Please?”

You look at him, his handsome face all soft and apologetic. His dark brown and amber eyes dance around your face and without realizing you're even doing it, you nod your head.

“Thank you,” he drops his hands at his side, visibly relaxing at your decision not to run. “Sit at the island for me. I’ll be back.”

He watches you as you pad over to the island. The tall bar chair squeaks on the tile floor as you pull it out. He peels his eyes from you and heads upstairs. When you sit you have to stop from moaning out, the pressure of your body weight there sends a wave of rolling pleasure through you.

What the fuck?

It’s a dull, throbbing ache followed by a small gush of thick wetness. Did you mistake a feeling of arousal for dizziness and nervousness upstairs? Were you turned on by what you just witnessed?

Certainly not. There’s no way! He was, well, he wasn’t being nice to that woman.

Soon you hear footsteps coming down the stairs and towards the foyer, his body blocks her from your view as they talk at the front door. They speak in hushed voices, all you’re able to make out is her saying thank you followed by the sound of a soft kiss and then she’s gone.

She thanked him? It seems like he should be thanking her.

He wanders into the kitchen and your throat goes impossibly dry. As if he can read your every need, he grabs a glass from the cabinet, puts it under the water dispenser on his fridge door and then slides the glass across the large island to you. You have to lift off the chair to reach it, whispering a thank you before taking a sip.

JM leans against the countertop beside the fridge and watches you take a long drink. You put the glass down with a quiet clink and then fold your hands in your lap. His eye contact is intense, not in a creepy way, it’s almost like he’s assessing you. You find it hard to look at him so you avert your gaze to the glass.

He clears his throat gently before he starts. “I jus’ want to say how sorry I am. You didn’t consent to seein’ any of that and I can’t imagine how awful that was for you.” His voice is so calm and soft.

You flick your eyes up to him, “No, this is my fault. I am not suppose-“

JM shakes his head and holds up one hand, signaling you to stop. “No. This was me. I got my days mixed up. Meant to book ya for next week. This ain’t on you. This was my mistake. If it’s ok for me to ask, what’s your name?”

You mumble your name into your glass and down the rest of your water. You figure you’re probably fired either way so who cares if he knows who you are. His face ticks up slightly, almost like he’s proud of you for drinking, and says your name back to you.

“I ain’t gonna say anythin’ to your boss and I understand if you want to leave for the day. I’ll pay ya either way. I also understand if you say somethin’ to them and I can’t be a client anymore. It was unacceptable for me to be doin’ that when you’re supposed to be here. There ain’t any other way to word it. I was inappropriate and wrong.” He steps forward and holds his hand out so you slide the glass across to him.

He refills it and puts it back for you to grab. “No,” you say, your voice cracking. After clearing your throat you continue, “No, I appreciate your apology but I’m not going to say anything.”

He watches you again as you drain the glass, the same look of pride flashes across his eyes, “I’ll - umm - I’ll be in my office. You can uh,” he runs a hand through his scruff, “You just do whatever you need. I’ll stay outta your way.”

He disappears before you can say anything else. You head up the stairs after a few minutes to find your cleaning caddy sitting in the hall with everything placed neatly where it belongs. His office door is closed and you can hear the deep rumble of his voice while he’s on a call. You grab your things, head into the master bedroom and begin cleaning.

A few hours later while you’re sitting in your car eating lunch, the garage door opens and JM goes whipping past you in the sexiest blacked out sports car you’ve ever seen. He doesn’t even look over you as he speeds by. Your heart sinks, it's unexplainable but being in that house with him there, even after what you witnessed, felt more comfortable than being alone. JM must have some sort of magic touch, how you went from nervous and embarrassed to calm and comforted with just the look on his face and few words is beyond you.

After wiping down the kitchen you are all done for the day. You grab the black and red envelope off the kitchen counter and open it, peering in nervously. There’s a piece of matte black paper on top. You slide it out gently, the paper feels expensive between your fingers. As you unfold it you reveal a shiny black JMK logo at the top. In neat gold lettering is his writing.

‘Please know how sorry I am. Your consent is more important than anything. I broke that. Just hope I didn't break your trust. -Joel Miller.’

At the bottom of the envelope are ten crisp one hundred dollar bills.

Next Chapter

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awrkive · 3 months ago

Text

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 3 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.7k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments, litol bit of #domesticity, FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, angst if you squint??????????, the x file spoiler lol, suits cameo (me inserting my niche interests into conversations), the biggest warning of this part is: naked jungkook 💀

NOTES sorry for being almost 3 hours late efhkjdhfd i overestimated my abilities a bit mb mb anyway, AGAIN, i want to thank you guys for the overwhelming support! i want to take this opportunity to announce that i'll be taking a break from nb for around 2 weeks to work on my new jungkook one-shot fic that i will be posting for his birthday ❤️ if you are interested, i have posted the teaser on my tumblr page. LASTLY pls let me know your thoughts!! i LOVE LOOOVEEE reading every single one of your replies/reblogs/asks. i hope you enjoy this one and have a good weekend ahead!!!!!!

NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN (REPLY IN THE COMMENT SECTION. PLS DO NOT SEND AN ASK ABOUT IT)

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO | THREE

You always wonder how a company this big seems to not have any budget lent for a copier that actually works – something that one doesn’t need to violently slap just for it to function perfectly.

You’ve been a victim not just once but five times to its inefficiency, the recent mishap being a month ago when the ink blots jumped right over the cuff of your shirt.

With the way that you’ve been harassing the copier at the very moment, you’ll say it’s about to do you wrong for the sixth time and you absolutely can’t let it happen anymore – not when you’re currently wearing a white polo shirt that stupidly costs a little too much more than anything in your wardrobe (you decided to spend a little more than usual last New Year’s).

So, with a last unnecessary kick to the bottom of the machine (out of pure spite) you left the copier room of your floor and think, fuck it – go to the IT department and ask Taemu to back you up from his supervisor so you can use their copier instead – which is something you’re not so sure of.

It’s embarrassing to go there just to ask him for help. Not with your history. But admittedly not that much of a history. After all, he seems to be cool with you and everything seems to be pretty chill. You can just go there; ask a little favor from a friend, and then hurry down to your floor.

There are some other options, though. Like, you can always ask the intern to do it for you. But the thing is, you kind of feel bad for those three. Your co-workers are doing a lot already; asking to fetch them things all around the building, buy them snacks, stuff like that. There’s another one but she’s way too quiet and didn’t really take shit from any of her seniors… which is kind of intimidating – but she's someone you wish you were when you were also an intern. You personally don’t want to help cultivate a somewhat toxic journey for the other three because you also started the same way as them. Beyond that, it would also be too rude to ask favors from Taemu indirectly.

You’re ultimately left with little and only one choice.

The elevator dings and the doors open after it does so.

One of the people in it is a woman you’ve never met around before. Long, black hair; tailored suit, slender figure, and a posture that screams she’s never hunched her back in her entire life.

Other people that entered at the same time as you start to bow their heads down slightly and greet a polite, “Good afternoon.”

You mirror their gesture as well.

As you step inside and settle on a spot, you wonder who she is.

An executive, maybe? She looks very put-together, and there’s authority that hangs over her frame… but exceptionally young in the physical aspect. Jungkook is also young, though – and he’s an executive, so that’s entirely possible. Additionally, others seem to know her. Or they're just pretending to know her like you did. Did you miss a ceremony? A meeting? Or did you gloss over some HR email again? You’ll have to check later to find out if that’s the case.

Anyway, your curiosity doesn’t last long when the elevator doors open once again, indicating the IT department floor.

You already texted Taemu awhile ago that you were on your way so he should meet you on-time.

As you walk down the hallway with your phone in your hand, your attention is caught by a familiar voice.

“Hey,”

You look up from your phone and see Taemu waving not too far away, heading towards your direction. It doesn’t take him long to get near you. When he does, you give him a smile.

“Taemu, hi.” You say as a small greeting. Taemu lifts his hand and you thought he was going for a high-five, so you lift your hand as well to meet the gesture. But then he leans in closer, one arm about to enclose your waist, and that’s when you realize he was actually gearing up for a hug.

Taemu seems to register that you weren’t exactly going for the same thing, so he steps back. He seems shy when you look at him in confusion.

“Oh, okay, sorry,” He offers his hand again, but just when you’re already thinking about hugging him because that was what he originally meant to do, he speaks just as you lean in closer to hug him. “I thought we were high-five-ing?”

Embarrassed, your hands retreat to yourself.

“I thought... you wanted to hug?” You chuckle.

“Okay, let’s just—” Taemu steps closer again and this time, it’s more than clear to you what he wants to do.

You reciprocate the hug he gives.

“This is so stupid.” You say, chuckling against his neck. The contact is quick as you two simultaneously break apart.

Taemu laughs at your remark, nodding his head. Then he gestures ahead, pointing to the direction of the copy room.

“Your copier not working again?” He asks as you walk down the hallway together.

You heave a sigh. “Yeah, they really need to change that one. Anyway, have you told Mr. Lee?” You ask, referring to his supervisor.

Teamu nods his head, opening the door to the copy room for you.

“Yeah, it’s fine with him. Just sign the logbook and stuff.”

“Thanks, Taemu.” You say, quickly getting to work, feeling slightly delighted at how their machine smoothly does its job and not like the one at all in your department. “Hey, I’m really sorry for bothering you with this.” You lament as you wait for the paper to slide out.

Taemu waves his hand, shaking his head at you. “It’s fine.”

You purse your lips into a thin line, giving him a somewhat apprehensive smile. The paper comes out and you get your thing. After a quick scan to see if the copier got everything right, you look back at Taemu to say, “Thanks again, Taemu. I really appreciate this.”

“No worries. Anytime.”

When you announce that you’re done, Taemu calls your name.

“Hm?” You hum, looking at him and wait for his next words.

He looks coy when he rubs a hand on the back of his head.

“Can I take you out for lunch?” He says, and you still in your position. Taemu seems like he surprised himself with his own words. You open your mouth to speak but then he beats you to it quickly, “It’s not a date. I phrased that as a date – but it’s not – ah, this is all coming out wrong,” Taemu chuckles, interrupting himself. With his hands in his slacks' pockets, he leans to a random table inside the room and looks at you with a more confident stance this time, as if he just gave himself a quick internal pep talk after jumbling his words. “What I meant to say is, if we can go out for lunch together today?”

You chuckle. You were just about to say yes. Contrary to his assumption, you didn’t really take his first question as an invitation for a date. Besides, he helped you with the copier today.

Nodding your head, you offer him a grin as you say, “Yeah. I’ll go to lunch with you.”

Taemu walks you to the elevator even though you said he doesn’t need to. He's insistent but you let it, anyway.

Taemu puts his hands on both sides of the door before it closes. The ride is pretty much empty except for yourself.

“When are you off?” He asks.

You think about it for a moment. “Is 12:15 okay?”

Taemu nods. “Sure. See you at 12:15?”

“Yeah. Later.”

The elevator closes and you laugh to yourself when you catch Taemu awkwardly waving his hand at you goodbye.

“No, you didn’t, I kicked your ass at mini golf!” You say, laughing as Taemu looks at you with squinted eyes, obviously saying that was absolutely not what happened on your date a few months ago.

“Uh, you disregarded all the rules.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, fine. Rules do not matter, though. It’s just some stick and a ball and… fake grass.”

Taemu laughs, surrendering his hands to the air, nodding when he says, “Fair, fair.”

You’re currently at a restaurant not too far away from your company building. It took Taemu and you about five minutes to get here; just a quick waiting time to cross the pedestrian lane to get from one street to the other.

Looking around, you can actually see some people inside wearing your company lace. The restaurant’s sort of like a famous spot around the company, though, so it doesn't necessarily surprise you. You’ve also had a few company dinners here some time ago.

Safe to say, lunch with Taemu is going… okay so far.

No – actually, it’s way better than you thought it would be.

You could have never, ever predicted that you’ll be out with him alone again after… you know, ghosting him. Your whole assessment of his character has also changed a bit after the whole fiasco.

See, some guys start feeling entitled over your permission and consent when you entertain them even just for a bit. When you go on dates and you break it to them that it’s just not working out between you two, they start to act weird. Like you’ve hurt them. Or that you lead them on – even though it’s absolutely not the case.

But Taemu’s proving himself to be different. You honestly expected him to act like that guy because he seems the type after your first date. But he surprises you by acting the total, complete opposite.

He’s so… nice. So casual. Like nothing happened. You feel bad because right now, you've officially confirmed to yourself that you totally misjudged him.

You can’t believe you’ll say this, but Taemu is not an asshole. Like at all.

Even now, you’re recalling what happened to your date and laughing about some of the memories of it, and it feels so long ago you’re starting to remember it differently.

“Anyway, this milkshake’s really good,” you say, taking your glass and looking at it curiously.

“Yeah? I told you,” Taemu grins, eating from his own plate.

“You always come here?” You ask out of curiosity since he seems to be familiar with the menu.

“Sort of? I mean, I try to take in the city as much as I can.” You nod, recalling what he told you before. He came from Daegu, and it’s his first time in Seoul.

Before you can say anything to that, the waiter comes to your table and gives you your bill.

Taemu and you simultaneously take out your wallets. When he sees you do it, though, he’s quick to shake his head, gesturing for you to not bother.

“No, no, it’s fine. I got it.”

“I got it, too,” You say, smiling at him, already picking out your card, ready to put it inside the check presenter.

“__,” Taemu says your name while chuckling. “I swear, it’s fine. I was the one who invited you for lunch.”

“Taemu,” You call him, using the same tone he used. Taemu grins at that. “I think we should split the bill.”

It’s only fair, you think. You ate pretty much the same thing.

You hold what felt like a minute staring competition until Taemu gives in and lets you stack your card on top of his in the booklet.

You’re about to resume eating – pick up on the conversation you left a few minutes ago – when your phone dings on the table, a message popping out on the notification center.

When you read the contact name, your eyes widen but you relax your face real quick lest Taemu asks questions.

“Sorry,” you say, pointing to your phone. Taemu nods, understanding. You pick the device in your hands, turn to your other side to not be rude, and read the text from Jungkook.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:47pm]: hey I bought you lunch Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:48pm]: i was gonnna ask you to go with me earlier but I got busy with some papers

Shoot.

You’ve done a pretty good job of not thinking about Jungkook at all for the entirety of the day. You woke up so early this morning that you waited for twenty whole minutes for your bus just so you can avoid seeing Jungkook because everytime his name pops up in your thoughts, you remember what you did the night before and it just messes with your head so much.

Listen, you aren’t embarrassed about trying to get yourself off. It’s just masturbation. It’s a carnal need and it’s totally normal. What you are not proud of is the way you thought about him – out of all people – and how it actually made you feel… a little more motivated to get yourself there.

But it’s a slip-up. A big mistake.

How are you supposed to look him in the eyes after that and act like you didn’t do what you did? Granted, you did stop before it escalated. But still, the point is that you thought about him while you were pleasuring yourself. Even if it was for a tiny bit second, it still counts!

Stupid fucking ovulation, you think to yourself with bitterness. You’re a much better person without it, you swear. You don’t go around thinking about men when you try to get yourself off, not at all! Personally, your head is mostly blank when you go through it.

But Jungkook left two texts. And he’s probably seen the read tag on his end already.

You [12:49pm]: I just got lunch ): thank you for buying me one tho that’s really nice ofu

You turn your phone off after sending your reply, placing it on the empty space of your table. When you look at Taemu, he’s eyeing something behind you. With furrowed brows, the question about what he’s looking at is on the tip of your tongue when he suddenly says,

“Isn’t that Mr. Jeon?”

“W-what?” You stammer, not sure if you heard him right.

The knots on Taemu’s forehead fades, and then he nods to himself. “I’m pretty sure that’s Mr. Jeon. He’s going this way.”

“Wha—”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon.” Taemu stands up from his seat and does a slight bow for greeting.

Without thinking about it, you mirror Taemu’s action, bowing your head longer than necessary.

“Good afternoon, M-mr. Jeon,”

It’s no use to avoid his gaze, though.

When you look at Jungkook, he seems pretty much just as surprised to see you. You look away, but your eyes fall to his hand, and you see that it carries a take-out paper bag from the restaurant. You think about his text.

“Good afternoon.” Jungkook says with an easy-going smile. He goes from surprised to casual real quick and glosses over you as if he doesn’t know you.

You don’t really know how that makes you feel.

“I was just going, have fun with your lunch.” He says and politely bids his goodbye, going straight to the direction of the restaurant’s door.

“He’s really cool, you know?” Taemu brings up when you both sit down again.

“I— huh?”

“You must have heard about the new project they’re starting at the end of this month, right?” He asks curiously.

You sit there stunned. Stunned from earlier’s interaction with Jungkook but also because you don’t really know what the hell Taemu’s talking about.

“No… I didn’t get any memo…?” You say instead, trying not to act way too oblivious lest he thinks you’re lazy or something. Not that it matters! You’re not trying to impress him or anything.

Taemu nods. “Well, you’ll probably know about it soon.”

But your head's too far gone now, still stuck on what happened a minute ago.

You look over at your phone while Taemu speaks, hoping for it to light up with a new notification from the messaging app.

A few minutes passed by and it doesn’t, even when you leave the restaurant.

You don’t really know why you’re here.

It’s been three days since that night in Jungkook’s place where you tried to bake in his kitchen, so it’s also been three days since you started practicing during the nights after work to perfect your cookies. Tonight, it just so happens that the cookies finally taste edible and honestly, it’s more than okay.

So, maybe that’s why you find yourself in front of Jungkook’s door with a plastic container in your hands, decently-baked cookies prettily arranged inside.

Jungkook was with you when you made those pathetic excuses for cookies, so you thought it’s only fair for him to try these ones and tell you what he thinks. Brag a little. Maybe have a little chitchat if he’s free or whatever.

It’s also… sort of like a peace offering for something he doesn’t need to know about. You can’t tell him you’re sorry for thinking about him when you did the deed because that’s just plain weird.

Speaking of weird, though, the interaction from yesterday left you feeling a little empty. There’s this gnawing feeling inside of you that something went wrong – but you can’t exactly point out why. Jungkook also hasn’t texted you after that – which isn’t out of the ordinary. You don’t text everyday and you don’t meet every single day, either – for the record. You’re both busy people. You can only imagine Jungkook’s schedule.

Anyway, if there’s anything that you learned about your friendship with Jungkook, it’s that you don’t need to lie to him. You just have to knock on his door and he’ll unintentionally clear your doubts by being the voice of reason because he’s nice like that.

You do hope though that tonight clears any weird air between you. Maybe you’ll find out later on that there’s nothing weird going on at all and you’re just overthinking stuff as usual.

You’re about to ring the doorbell twice when the door finally opens, showing you Jungkook still wearing his polo shirt. He looks like he’s just gotten home from work, red tie undone around his neckline and a few buttons popped open.

“Hi.” You smile.

“Hey,” Jungkook looks at you, obviously wondering what brought you to his door.

“I wanted to give you this,” you hand him the plastic container which he takes with a confused look. “Those are cookies. I baked them. I didn’t give you anything when I baked two nights ago because they were bad.”

“Ah,” Jungkook nods, looking down at the plastic. He smiles, then leans on his doorway. “So it’s good now?”

You gesture a so-so with your hand. “Don’t set your expectations too high. It’s not exactly Poilâne. But it tastes like matcha cookies, I swear.” When Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, you decide to add, “You also won’t get food poisoning, if you’re worried about that.”

Jungkook gives you an amused look. “I wasn’t… worried about that.”

“It’s a simple disclaimer. Just in case, you know, you suddenly feel weird in the stomach…” Jungkook arches his brow while you trail off. You roll your eyes lightheartedly. “I’m kidding.”

He lets out a chuckle and then stands upright. “Thank you for this.”

“No worries,” you say. You shift your weight from one foot to another. “Uh, do you wanna grab dinner? Right now?”

Jungkook looks at you apologetically.

“I really wish we could, but I have to finish something tonight. Work stuff.”

“Oh,” You nod immediately. “Okay. Uhm, good luck with that.”

He smiles at you. Lifting the container up, he arches his brows, saying, “Thank you, again. It looks good.”

“Yeah, I hope you like it,” You say. Realizing that there’s nothing more left to say, you turn on your heel ready to go. But before that, you look back at him one last time. “Bye.”

Jungkook grins.

“I’ll text you what I think about them.” He says, pointing to the cookies.

“Okay, Anton Ego.”

You both laugh at that, and you enter your apartment with a small smile on your face.

You don’t want to admit it even to yourself, but you might have taken Jungkook’s words about reviewing your baked goods too seriously that you waited for it last night longer than necessary. Even when the night ended and you go to work the next day, which is today, none of his texts come, and you don’t think anything’s coming anytime soon.

You try not to think about it too much because he did say he’s busy with work. You’re sure that’s the case, so you feel slightly bad for him.

Right now, you’re looking for Ms. Seo to get her signature on a document. So you head to the elevator, rushing a bit to get inside the one that’s about to close. It’s a little urgent, so you cannot waste any more time.

As soon as you enter though, you notice who’s in it.

It’s Jungkook and the woman you saw in the elevator two days ago.

You’re starting to think you need to start using the stairs from now on because your elevator trips are getting too ridiculous.

It feels like you’re running on auto-pilot when you greet them both, walking to the side to make space for the other people entering.

You wish you went beside the woman instead and not Jungkook’s side because you then have to try real hard not to look at him.

It proves to be an uneasy task when more people squeeze in as the elevator takes a few stops in between floors. You had to taut all the muscles in your body just to not get into any contact with Jungkook, but even with all the effort, it goes unsuccessful, as you brush his arm when you step back to move a little.

Jungkook looks at you the same time you do.

“I’m sorry.” You utter, low enough to not cause any unnecessary attention.

A few do turn to stare, anyway. And you can’t help but notice the way the woman’s hand moves towards Jungkook’s to hold it as she takes a look at you.

Jungkook, meanwhile, gives you that same professional smile he seems to have reserved for every employee that greets him around the building, warm voice saying, “It’s okay.”

You’re thankful that the next floor is where your stop is.

As you go back to your cubicle, you wonder who the woman is. Again.

There's something about her that feels familiar. She looks familiar. Like you’ve seen her before. You can’t just figure out where exactly.

“__,” Sol calls beside you.

“Huh?”

“You’re not having lunch?” She asks.

“Oh…” Right. It’s currently your break time. “Are you guys going out?” You say, looking at Joonhwi who’s two cubicles away from you.

Sol shakes her head, taking her coat from the back of her chair. “No, just at the cafeteria.”

You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll follow in a few minutes, just need to look over some stuff here,” You point to your computer.

“Okay. Just text me.”

You give Sol a smile and watch as she and Joonhwi head out of the office.

Your gaze falls to the time on your computer.

12:10pm.

Is Jungkook possibly having lunch right now? You remember him buying you one two days ago and feel a little sense of regret about not taking it even though it isn’t your fault and he should’ve told you first to give you a little heads-up.

You never really talked about it. You never really talked for the past three days.

But then again, he seems to be busy.

With a little hope in your heart, though, you pick up your phone and decide to send him a text.

You [12:12pm]: hey do u want to go out for lunch?

Or should you just buy him one like he did for you? It’s not like you’re trying to up him in a kindness competition. It can just be a small, thoughtful gesture from a friend to a friend.

You receive a reply a few seconds after.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: hey __ I’d love to

Your lips curl down when you read the next one that comes in a second.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: but I have a work meeting in 5mins

Oh. Okay. That tracks.

You [12:14pm]: okii!! That’s totally cool! good luck with work 😊

You stand up from your chair and take out your wallet from your bag, going out of your office and sending a quick text to Sol that you’re coming to the cafeteria.

When you get there, your peripheral vision catches a familiar figure.

You look back, trying to see if it’s someone you know.

Turns out it is. Because it’s Jungkook.

You’ve seen him in the elevator this morning and he wore a grey pair of suit. You’d also recognize his stature anywhere, but just like how it was inside the elevator, he’s with the woman again; long hair down like it was yesterday, this time adorning a suit dress that hugs her figure really well, her stilettos making her legs look longer but somehow Jungkook still stands a little taller.

For the very brief moment that you laid your eyes on them, you saw how Jungkook had his hand placed on the low of her back, how she laughed at something he said, and how they looked good together from your point of view. It seemed like they were on their way somewhere.

You realize that was what Jungkook meant when he said he’s busy.

They say a silver lining comes in every worst situation possible, and you’re more of an optimist rather than a pessimist so usually, you believe in the concept of silver linings even though right now – it looks like it’s going to be winning the jackpot in the lottery or… free education for everybody across the world.

“The contractor estimates it would be a week-long repair.”

“One week?” Is your immediate response, disbelief coloring your tone. “I’m sorry—” You try to fix your tone, salvaging yourself from being seen as outright rude in front of your building manager. “You mean seven whole days?”

The building manager, Mr. Han, nods his head. He looks genuinely apologetic as he delivers the news, for the record.

“That’s… really long.” You say, albeit calmer now. But you still can’t imagine it.

“It’s just an estimate. Contractor said it might be faster than that, but they still need to do a full assessment of your unit tomorrow, together with the water damage restoration company. We’re doing all we can to respond to the situation. We’re also talking to your upstairs neighbor about the stipulation of his negligence.”

You nod along to his words.

Obviously, it’s his job to ensure everything’s taken care of, but still, you’re appreciative of the way they are going about the current situation. You’ve heard horror stories about tenants getting into arguments with their building managers or landlords when their apartments experience accidents.

“Can I ask about relocation?” You ask. You have to read your lease again to make sure.

“Unfortunately, it’s not indicated in your lease policy, but your renter’s insurance should cover it. You can also talk to your landlord about reducing your rent for this month due to the inconvenience.”

You nod, giving him a small smile. “Okay. Thank you.”

The plumber and some of the help the building manager employed to dry up your place from the accidental flood had already left a while ago, and soon, Mr. Han’s figure disappears entirely after a few seconds as you watch him walk down the flight of stairs and away from the building.

You can hear the loud whirring of the air movers placed inside your unit from where you stood on your porch. Your hair’s damp, including some spots on your work clothes from the water that trickled down your ceiling as you panicked earlier to pack some of your belongings in a medium-sized luggage you managed to grab in the timeframe.

It’s the state that Jungkook catches you in when you see him emerging from the stairs, looking like he also just got back from work.

“Hey, what happened?” Jungkook, with his brows furrowed, looks at you with worried eyes, sounding equally concerned.

You sigh. “Hey,” you greet weakly. “My apartment got flooded.”

“What?”

“It’s the upstairs neighbor. He apparently left his tub running while he went to work this afternoon,” You take a sharp breath, getting pissed again at the negligence. So goddamn stupid, really. “He flooded his own place and the water leaked to my ceiling, and when I got back home from work I was welcomed with two inches of water on my floor.”

“What the hell?” Jungkook says in disbelief. You nod at his reaction. That is exactly what you said when you heard the story from the property manager. “Are you okay?” He asks, and you appreciate it.

“Not sure about that.” You answer honestly.

Jungkook furrows his brows. “You called your landlord immediately?”

Letting out a sigh again, you nod and move to sit on your suitcase – the lonesome bag that you’re planning to bring with you to wherever the hell you’re going to stay tonight. You don’t even think you have enough clothes in it.

“My place is a complete wreck. Most of the water’s drained, though, and the building manager brought some help inside and they put air movers inside to dry the place right now.” You blow air to the strand of hair that escapes from your ponytail out of frustration. “It’s a shitshow, I know.”

“Good that they responded fast,” Jungkook comments, but concern is still etched on his face as he asks you, “Have you called your insurance company yet?”

“Yeah, we’re emailing right now.” You tell him, showing your phone. You hate sending email through such a small device but you left your laptop back at the office – which is kind of a good thing, now that you think about it – because it would’ve gotten flooded had you left it in your place.

“Did you document everything?”

Your response comes in a little curt.

“Yes, Jungkook. I did.” The onslaught questions just somehow seemed to prompt irritation in you, and you can’t help but add, “I know everything I have to do. I’m an adult.”

Predictably, you render Jungkook surprised.

“I— I didn’t mean it like that. I apologize.”

When you look up at him, you see his expression softening – and you feel bad for what you just did.

Chill, __. He’s just asking logical questions.

“No, I’m sorry,” You shake your head, feeling a little ashamed for bursting like that. You shouldn’t have talked to him like that, anyway. “I don’t know why I snapped, you’re just asking the important questions.”

Jungkook hesitantly hovers his hand on your shoulder, and the look he gives you seems to be asking for permission to touch you. You don’t even know if that’s his intention, but you give him a nod.

He smiles, tapping your shoulder for a brief second, saying, “It’s okay. You must be really stressed right now.”

“You think I can’t be calm in this situation?” You look at him with a blank expression. Jungkook’s taken aback and you witness the very split second his smile drops form his face, probably thinking he said something wrong. Then you can’t help it, you break. “I’m just fucking with you.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow as he sees you bursting into a gentle laugh, breaking your serious demeanor.

He shakes his head slowly, seemingly incredulous of the stunt you just pulled.

“You and your jokes…”

“You should’ve seen your face.”

“You got me.” Jungkook chuckles.

“I’m sorry… it’s just me trying to ignore the fact that my apartment literally got flooded and those loud and big ass fans they placed inside are about to tear my ears off.”

You see the way Jungkook’s face winces.

“Where are you staying for the night, then?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, genuinely not sure about your options. “Probably gonna book a hotel or something.”

Of course you’ve thought about Jimin. He can probably easily help you find a place for the meantime but it’d probably be hard with him not being physically in the country just yet. Sol also crossed your mind, but you remember she has a roommate.

Getting a hotel to temporarily stay at is the most obvious option there is. It would be too much of a hassle, not to mention expensive, but—

“You can stay at mine for the night.”

You think you’re getting around to Jungkook offering you help without you even asking – but it doesn’t mean you still don’t get a little taken aback when he gives it so willingly and so quickly like this.

“No.” You shake your head.

“Seriously.” Jungkook stares at you.

You stare at him right back.

“I can’t.”

“Why?” He raised his brow.

“I can’t think of reasons right now.”

“You don’t need to think at all.”

You squint your eyes at him, he does the same.

Soon enough, Jungkook breaks first and laughs.

“Come on! You’re gonna freeze in here.”

Hesitantly, you say, “… Are you sure?”

“What are you worried about?” He cocks his head to the side, awaiting your response.

Well. There’s a lot to be worried about.

There’s the thing where you always just seem to be caught into some shit and then he catches you right exactly in it. It’s starting to get embarrassing.

But Jungkook just doesn’t really seem to mind it.

“Nothing, really.” Is what you weakly settled for.

“Okay…” He trails off, raising a brow, obviously a bit confused. “Then what’s the big deal? Do you really want to go through the hassle of picking out hotels and booking a room at this hour? You have to go to work tomorrow.”

You visibly wince at the mention of work.

He’s right and you kind of hate it.

“You’re right…” you say after a while.

“You’re staying at mine?” Jungkook asks again, in which you nod your head in confirmation.

You stand up from your suitcase and pull up the handle. Then you look at him sincerely to give him a smile. “Thank you. I think this is like the five hundredth time this kind of thing happened between you and I.”

“Not counting.” Jungkook shrugs. “Have you had dinner yet?”

You nod your head. “I went with a friend— a co-worker.”

Jungkook visibly stills.

“The guy from a few days ago at the restaurant around work?”

You perk up at that, surprised he still recalls that day.

“Yeah, that’s him. Taemu. From the IT dep.”

He nods. You don’t know if he’s interested or not.

You think it’s a bit random that he brought that up, though, but you shake the thoughts away and call his name.

Jungkook looks at you.

“Thank you.” You say, hoping he hears the sincerity in your voice.

He chuckles. “You’re welcome,” Jungkook then gestures to the luggage you’re holding. “Let me.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to say yes before he takes the handle from you and carries the luggage with him to the direction of his place just across from yours.

You consciously try to make your steps lighter as you walk out of the shower box, making your way towards your suitcase to check on the clothes you packed.

When you open it, you thank the heavens that there are underwear – and a lot of them, for the record – but as you rummage around some more, you find that other than your work clothes, you only have nightwear inside. And when you say nightwear, not the comfortable cotton pajama kind but the nightie one – and that basically means the baby blue silky set of tiny camisole and shorts that can pass as a pair of panties.

I can’t possibly wear these, you think to yourself, hastily burying the pieces of clothing in the bottom of your luggage.

It shouldn’t mean anything – those are nightwear after all! But it was already embarrassing to ask Jungkook earlier if you could use his shower and his towel. You can’t come out of the bathroom wearing clothes that Jimin once tagged as “slutty pjs”. Not when you’re in Jungkook’s place.

“__?”

You look over to the door when you hear Jungkook’s voice, a knock following.

“Yes?” You answer.

“Do you have clothes in there?”

At the question, your gaze automatically falls to the suitcase where the thin strap of the camisole peeks out in between some other clothes that are completely useless for the night.

With hesitance, you say, “Uhm… do you possibly have a shirt I can borrow? I promise to clean it and return it to you tomorrow, ASAP.”

You hear him chuckle from the other side. “I brought you some. There’s also a pair of sweatpants but I’m not sure if they’ll fit you.”

It’s hard to not celebrate silently when Jungkook says that – but you might have jumped a little at his words.

When you walk towards the door and open it, you give Jungkook a huge smile as you tell him, “Thanks!”

He stops. And then you stop.

You realize you’re only in your towel – his towel, to be exact.

You feel the blood rushing to your cheeks the moment it registers.

Before you can do or say anything, Jungkook moves on quickly and stretches his arm, thrusting the clothes he’s mentioned into your way.

“There.” He says simply, smiling at you.

You take them from his hand, giving him a smile too, albeit a bit awkward.

“T-thanks.”

Jungkook turns on his heel to leave, and you lock the door to the bathroom as soon as he walks away.

You settle his clothes on top of the flat surface of the lavatory, physically shaking your head as you look at yourself in the mirror to shake your thoughts away.

Thoughts of his slightly parted lips when you opened the door while you’re only in a towel.

But it happened in such a split second that you’re not sure if it even happened.

When you take his white shirt, it feels soft to the touch and there’s a scent of fresh laundry that wafts through your nose when you wear it on yourself.

It’s loose on you, the sleeves almost covering your whole arms and the hem stopping mid-thigh. But because of that, it feels comfortable – like the oversized shirts you wear to bed that you, unfortunately, weren’t able to pack with you in the heap of panic.

But the pants show a different case. It’s so big that it drags on the floor as you wear it.

You made do, though; drawing the strings tightly and and knotting them together, pulling up the gartered hems up to your calf.

When you come out of the bathroom, Jungkook welcomes you with nothing but a towel wrapped around his lower half.

“H-hey,” You stammer, eyes meeting his own to avoid looking at his naked torso.

“I was just going in. You done?” He casually says, as if he doesn’t mind being naked in front of you.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m done. Thanks for the clothes.” You say, gesturing across your body.

“Looks good.” Jungkook comments before entering the bathroom.

You think your cheeks just got impossibly hotter.

The sound of water running is heard before you scramble to the living room.

Why was he naked?!

Okay, he wasn’t actually naked naked but still, he had no clothes on. Why did he have no clothes on? You’re trying to erase the image of his torso, the lines that draw an obvious four-pack, his firm-looking chest, and the way the tattoos over his right arm apparently go way above his shoulder. It’s obvious that he goes to the gym and works out from the way those polo sleeves of his always hug his biceps a little too tight – and with a body like that, you completely understand why he wouldn’t mind parading it around.

The AC in his unit is turned on, but it suddenly feels way too hot from where you currently sit on his couch.

Shut up. Ugh. You tell yourself internally.

Completely wanting out of that headspace, you decide to take out your iPad to get in contact with your insurance company to discuss your current situation, and it does a good job of keeping your mind off Jungkook for a while.

You’re so deep in the activity that you don’t even notice a few minutes has already gone by, and with that, you don’t notice Jungkook coming out of the shower.

When you see him in your periphery, he’s now thankfully dressed in a shirt and some basketball shorts. He’s drying his hair as he walks over to your direction in the living room.

You look at him in surprise when you notice the pillow and comforter he has in his hands.

“Sorry. You should’ve called me, I could’ve helped,” you say, standing up from the couch, ready to help him with it, assuming that you’ll be on the couch tonight.

Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows. “I’m taking the couch.”

You stare at him, ready to hear him say he’s kidding or something but he doesn’t look like he’s joking.

You shake your head vigorously.

“No, that’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous about it?” Jungkook says, putting the pillows on the couch, starting to make it all the while looking at you through the process to engage.

“It’s your place.” You reason.

“And you’re my guest.” He says as a matter of fact.

“But—”

Jungkook cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence.

“__, it’s fine, really. You can take my bed. I insist.”

“Jungkook…” you trail off, sounding more like a whine.

He laughs and then looks at you with a playful smile. “Okay, should we compromise? Like, what, share the bed or the couch?”

You ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the suggestion.

You honestly don’t know why Jungkook says these kinds of things. You know it’s just his usual teasing, but he’s about to confuse you one of these days…

“God, no.” You respond with a shake of your head.

He chuckles. “Oh, is sleeping with me that repulsive to you?”

You push a little at his shoulder and roll your eyes.

When Jungkook’s done fixing the couch, he gestures to the door by the far end of the room. “Come on, I'll take you to the bedroom.”

You both walk towards that direction and as much as you’ve been over his place for more than once now, you’ve actually never seen his room – and for the record, why would you?

But it looks nice. Just like the rest of his apartment’s interior, his room is also almost the same. Kind of bare, but there are some sleek furniture that add character to the whole place.

“Too cold?” Jungkook asks, and you look at him to see him holding the remote of his AC.

“The temp’s fine.”

He hums and puts down the remote.

“Alright, then. Just call me if you need something.” Jungkook says, gesturing to the door. He’s about to leave when you call him again.

“Good night, Jungkook. Thank you for your bed.”

“Good night, __. Uh… sweet dreams?”

You roll your eyes. Jungkook laughs.

When he leaves, you sit on his mattress covered by black duvets and sheets. It’s soft, and you let yourself bounce on the fluffy surface, delighting at the feel.

It’s about the same size as yours, and when you lay on it, you smell that usual scent that Jungkook always emanates. Clean, crisp, a little sweet. Like fresh apples. Or fresh laundry. He just always smells so… clean.

You feel a little sense of strangeness at the different environment you’re in, but the bed is too soft that you feel like you’re almost floating – and maybe it’s because you are tired from work and drained from the whole fiasco at your apartment, but you fall asleep fast and heavy within just a few minutes.

You almost jump from the bed when you open your eyes and see a different type of bedding, only to realize that you’re actually not in your apartment and in Jungkook’s instead.

After processing that, you begin to do a little stretching, finding that you slept quite well. As you do so, your eyes catch the digital clock on the bedside table, and you read 4:30 am.

It’s a bit too early to start getting ready for work, but maybe if you start prepping now, you’ll be ready to go out just as when Jungkook is waking up.

When you stand from the bed, you discover the absence of pants around your waist, the cold air sending goosebumps over your bare legs – and as expected, you see the sweats getting caught in between the heaps of dark sheets on the bed.

You must have taken it off in the middle of the night. It’s why you usually forgo pants when you sleep.

You decide against wearing it again, though, assuming that Jungkook is still sound asleep by now so he can’t possibly see you walking around his place naked from the waist down. Besides, the shirt’s big and almost serves as a dress.

Carrying the pants with you, you silently open the door to his bedroom to tiptoe on your way to the bathroom.

“Hey,”

“Jesus christ!” You clutch your heart at the sudden sound of Jungkook’s voice booming across the unit.

When you look at him, he’s… working out. Apparently.

Jungkook takes out the airpods from his ears and drink from his tumbler.

“What are you tiptoeing for?” He asks, brows furrowed.

From where you stand, you see droplets of sweat on the side of his forehead, his chest heaving from the push-ups you catch him doing a few seconds ago on the mat that he laid on the floor. There are small weights on the side, and Jungkook is still wearing his clothes from last night.

Did he possibly just… wake up and then choose to exercise? Is this his everyday routine?

“I didn’t want to wake you,” you make up an excuse that’s kind of partly true. He slept on the couch in the living room, after all. And from the sala, everything is pretty much visible to the eye as the unit has an open layout. So one single noise could’ve awakened him.

“Too late for that,” Jungkook chuckles. He looks at you longer than a second and you’re just about to get conscious when he asks, “You get ready for work at four?”

You purse your lips into a thin line. “Sort of. I also have to check my place.” Jungkook nods, understanding. “Uh, Jungkook?” He hums to acknowledge you. “Can I use your shower? Again?”

He laughs at the way you smile at him awkwardly. “Sure. Your towel’s just over the rack.”

“Thanks.” You smile at him and go straight to the bathroom.

You make quick work of washing yourself, and the shower, just like last night, isn’t your usual routine because of course, most of your stuff are still over at your place. Though Jungkook is kind enough to lend you some of his unused products – even giving you a spare toothbrush which now sits beside his own on the bathroom sink.

When you finish showering, you wear his shirt and his pants once again. As you go out of the bathroom, the sound of oil popping from the kitchen doesn’t escape your ears.

“I made breakfast.” Jungkook says as you make your way towards the kitchen island. He’s a few steps away, working around the stove, frying up some sausage. He takes some eggs and then turns to you. “How do you like your eggs?”

You’re sure he doesn’t mean anything by that, but then you both laugh at the realization anyway.

“Sunny side up.” You say after a while, seating yourself on one of the high stools. “Can I help you?”

“It’s okay, just sit there.”

You put your elbow on the island as you watch him work. “Wow, do you really treat all your guests like this?” You tease, deciding to poke a joke.

Jungkook laughs as he starts breaking eggs into the frying pan.

“You’re the first one.” He raises a brow your way, lips tilted into a playful smile.

“Awe.” You pretend to curtsy which makes Jungkook laugh.

It doesn’t take long before Jungkook serves you a plate of sausage and perfectly-made sunny side up. You say a delighted “thank you!” in which Jungkook returns an adorable smile for.

You thought he was going to eat with you, but he only ate the sausage and began to work on cutting up some bananas while you continued to eat.

“What did they say about your apartment? How long is the repair?” Jungkook asks while he takes out a mixer.

“Week-long,” He visibly winces at your answer. You purse your lips. “I’m trying to look for a place to stay for the remaining days.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Lease doesn’t cover relocation?”

“Talked to the building manager and the landlord last night and they said it doesn’t. I also read the policy again myself last night, though, just to be sure. Anyway, landlord’s cutting my rent this month for up to thirty, so that’s something.”

“Okay… how about your stuff?”

As you watch Jungkook during the whole conversation, you realize that he’s apparently making a protein shake, and when he finishes shaking the bottle, he gestures it towards you, silently asking if you want to try it.

You shake your head, also answering his question. “I already filed a claim on it with my insurance company, so they’re handling it for me. They’re probably going to seek reimbursement from my upstairs neighbor’s insurance if he has one,” You shrug. “And I’m also gonna have to ask him to pay for the deductible.”

Jungkook nods, consuming his drink. You watch as he leans back on the kitchen sink, putting his protein shake down and crossing his arms, looking right at you.

“Why don’t you stay here for a while?”

You look right back at him weird.

“You’re not serious.”

“When am I not serious?”

You hold a staring competition after that, but Jungkook’s eyes are way too intense so you break away first.

“I just can’t.” You say, interrupting the silence.

“It’s friend to a friend. I bet you’d do this for me too.” Jungkook shrugs.

He doesn’t understand, though. Staying at his place for the remaining six days would mean that you’d be both living under the same roof together, and while it’s true that you would probably do this for him if he was in your shoes, it’s just not the same.

But you don’t want to get into all that. It’s too complicated to explain, even to yourself.

So you decide to joke a little.

“Probably not.” You tease.

Jungkook chuckles. “Mean.” He comments, shaking his head at you and playfully clicking his tongue.

“I’m joking,” you smile apologetically. “It’s just for six more days, though. The manager told me it might take faster.”

“Where do plan to stay, anyway? A hotel would be really inconvenient. The nearest one around here is too far from work, not to mention it’d be expensive as well.”

“There’s loss of use coverage,” You say, even though you know the stipulation, and your apartment flooding because of your neighbor’s negligence might probably not be in the clauses.

It’s just to reason with Jungkook, but he’s quick to present another point.

“It’s gonna take a long while, no?”

You pout. Sighing, you say, “You’re right.”

“Okay, so why not stay here?” Jungkook asks curiously. “You know I don’t mind. I won’t mind.” He says and it sounds so convincing and genuine.

You decide to deflect a little because you feel like giving in any seconds now.

“You say that but wait until you find that I’m not very likeable as a roommate.”

Jungkook raises a brow. “Shoot. Hit me.”

Pursing your lips into a thin line, you try to think of your bad habits.

“I…” you trail off, but it stretches into seconds way longer than necessary.

Jungkook chuckles. “See, you can’t even list one.”

“I don’t cook.” You point out.

“I already know that.”

You frown. “So we can’t take turns cooking while I stay here.”

Jungkook only shrugs. “There’s take-out.”

“You’re gonna eat take-out for a week?”

“I can cook.” He chuckles.

“Okay… but sometimes, I get super cranky.”

He nods. “I’ll be out of your way, then. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

You sigh, out of reasons now.

“I’ll try to be helpful with you in the kitchen for the next six days. And I’ll also be nice.”

Jungkook’s brows perk up. “You’re saying you want to stay here?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “But… I wan to pay you.”

“__, the whole reason why I’m offering is because a hotel is gonna cost you,” Jungkook laughs.

That prompts you to put a frown on your face.

“Fair point. But I’m going to take your couch the entire time, okay? And that’s final.”

It takes a little longer for Jungkook to agree to that. But he nods his head, anyway, saying, “Sure.”

It sounds so non-committal. You think he's going to still try insisting taking the couch.

“Okay.” You say, ignoring that thought, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

“You know you’re always welcome, right?” Jungkook says.

You’re thankful he turns around after he says that to tend to the stuff he used a while ago in the sink, giving you a perfect leeway to avoid his gaze lest he takes notice of the way you can’t help a big smile.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Finish your breakfast.” He says, pointing to your unfinished plate.

You give him a small salute.

Before he goes to the direction of the bathroom, Jungkook turns around to ask. "Do you want to go to work together?" He raises a brow, but then a second after his question, he puts a hand up, effectively stopping you from answering. "You're gonna say no. But I insist. Say yes, I made you breakfast."

You laugh at his squinted eyes.

"I was going to say yes, anyway."

"No, you weren't." Jungkook fires back.

You shoo him away playfully before he finally leave for the shower.

All you can think about is that maybe silver linings are indeed true.

Sharing a space with somebody has always felt… weird.

You had a roommate back in college for the whole four years, and while it wasn’t the worst thing that ever happened to you – it was just an experience that didn’t really strike you as something memorable or fun. Min Heeji was a Bio major who was an extreme introvert, and past the casual hi’s and hello’s, you both just never hit it off.

After moving out of your dorm, you rented around Itaewon. You found the unit through a listing you saw on Facebook – some woman who was finding a roommate to split the rent with. You found out later that the reason why the previous people before you left was because she was quite an interesting lady… let’s just say – she was a person who dabbled on the arts of illegal drug trading. Jimin jokingly told you he wondered about how her weed tasted like. Sometimes, you want to smack him on the head.

You pretty much decided on being against roommates for the entirety of your life after that.

But Jeon Jungkook is thankfully not a total hermit, nor does he sell weed.

It’s been long since you lived with somebody, and being under the same roof as him is different – the good kind of different, to be clear.

He’s somewhat a clean freak so it’s almost embarrassing to do anything in his place because it’s always so spot clean.

One thing that you learned though is that he’s a busy man. You had an idea about a packed schedule and non-existent free time for an executive person like him – but the idea feels more real now that you’ve witnessed it.

On the first day of your stay, after your apartment got flooded, he drove you both to work just like he offered. During the night, though, he seemed to have come home late. You slept at around 10pm and never saw him entering the door, and when you woke up the next day, he’s gone, only a note on the fridge telling you that he’s prepared some breakfast you can heat up to eat.

Nonetheless, you feel into quite an easy routine with him.

After a great deal of insistence from your side, Jungkook is rightfully assigned in his bedroom while you lay on the couch. It’s a bit bigger than the one you have on your own, so there’s space for moving around. Even when you wake up with shitty back pains in the mornings, sleeping on his couch is better than sleeping in your current wreck of an apartment as the contractor is already repairing your place.

As of the third day since the incident, they’ve already changed your ceiling, the flooring coming next. It was starting to look good as per your visit.

That made it clearer to you, though, that you’re indeed staying at Jungkook’s for another four days.

Jungkook was so busy that he even worked on a Saturday – told you that it was a hectic week for his team over a shared dinner that you thought will happen only once during your stay with his packed schedule. On Sunday, you kind of assumed that Jungkook will still be at the office, but he surprised you when he came barging in the bathroom while you were in it.

You had your leg propped on the edge of the bathtub, squeezing the bottle of lotion in your palm and spreading the cream over the skin of your shin, adjusting the towel up your thighs so you can cover your entire leg with the product.

You did so mindlessly, part of your usual after-shower routine, completely unassuming of the sound of the doorknob clicking and Jungkook suddenly barging inside the room with a hamper in his hand.

Frozen in your position, your eyes locked into his own as he stepped a foot forward on the tiled floor. You realized the hamper is his laundry.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were here,” Jungkook apologized, and he looked genuinely bashful.

“I thought you were at work.” you said, adjusting the towel on the top of your head.

Jungkook raised a brow, but there’s a smile on his lips. “On a Sunday?”

You narrowed your eyes at him which prompted him to laugh. A beat of silence, and then you noticed Jungkook’s gaze. You felt his eyes to the direction of your raised leg on the porcelain tub – and if your own sight didn’t deceive you, you could’ve sworn he’d made a quick glance-over to the expanse of your bare leg before he snapped right back into looking at your face.

“Anyway, I was just gonna do my laundry,” Jungkook twisted himself away from the bathroom’s door. “I’ll wait for you to finish, though. I’m sorry again for barging in.”

At that, you quickly shook your head and planted both your feet on the tiles, standing upright.

“No, it’s fine. I’m done, anyway. Are you in a hurry? I just need to change into some… clothes.” You said, glancing at the heap of some pajama pants and a t-shirt on the bathroom sink.

“Not in a hurry. You can change here.” Jungkook gave you a small smile.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’ll be super quick.”

Your lips curled into an apologetic smile, but Jungkook waved you off.

He took one last look at you before he locked the door – one thing that you forgot to do in the very first place.

You blamed it on your habit of not really being mindful about it since you were used to living alone.

The day after that – one fateful Monday – Jungkook once again was MIA at his own place. You woke around 6 am, and as you got ready for work, you noticed a note on his fridge that he went to work earlier than usual that day, and he’d also be working late so you should lock up at night.

At the company, you did not even catch a single glimpse of him.

You bought some food on your way to his place later that day, thinking that maybe you could share a meal together – nevermind the fact that he had told you he was going to be home late. But you did not expect his “late” would exceed past 11 pm, and since you were also pretty much tired from your own activities for that day, you fell asleep on the couch without making it, lying on the surface with no pillows and comforter over your body.

In your dreams that night, you felt like you were floating.

Somebody has tucked their arms under your knees and neck, taking you off the previous surface you were lying on. The unfamiliar man cradles your body against his, carrying you somewhere and putting you on a much softer place. A mattress. A big, soft, mattress. And you noted that the man smelled of green apples and laundry. An almost familiar scent.

Needless to say, your dream was quite vivid that night.

When you woke up the next morning, you were welcomed with the familiar grey paint of the walls – the white ceiling, and the dark sheets and pillows that surrounded you. A waft of fresh laundry smell. The Iron Man figurine on the top shelf of the cabinet in the corner of the room. The black slippers on the side of the door that are way too big to be yours.

Jungkook.

The strange man in your dreams was Jungkook. And it wasn’t a dream at all.

It was Jeon Jungkook who carried you all the way to his bedroom from the sofa so you could sleep comfortably on it.

When you went out of his room that morning, ready to thank him and tell him he didn’t have to do what he did, feeling bad at the thought of him sleeping on his couch at his own place, Jungkook was nowhere to be found.

But as if it was becoming tradition, there was a note on his fridge that told you: I hope you don’t mind that I brought you to my room. I found you uncomfortable on the couch last night. Didn’t cook us breakfast because I have to go to work early again today, but I’ll have food delivered at around 7. Good morning, __ :)

— Jungkook.

That night, though, Jungkook miraculously came home early.

He arrived an hour after you, just in time as you finished doing the prep for the bibimbap you were planning to eat on your own, assuming Jungkook was going to be late again. When you saw him entering the door, you decided to make the portions of the ingredients bigger, thinking that it was the perfect opportunity to say thank you for the other night.

And you did not forget to say that either.

“Thank you for last night. You didn’t have to…” you trailed off, giving him a sheepish smile across the dining table as you both ate.

Jungkook, with his mouth full of rice – seemingly (thankfully) enjoying the meal you prepared for him – munched on it before he said, “You looked real tired. And uncomfortable, which reminds me, you should sleep in the bedroom as well tonight.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Jungkook. Last night was just – uh, I was waiting for you to come home because I didn’t want to just lounge around your living room while you aren’t around, but then I guessed you arrived a little late.”

Out of all the things you’d said, it seemed Jungkook only remembered one thing.

“You were waiting for me to come home?” He said, his hand reaching for the side dish pausing mid-air, eyes trained to you. Curious, his brow piqued in what seemed like genuine intrigue.

You stopped. You went over your words, not realizing those came out of your mouth.

Obviously, you didn’t mean for that to slip out.

So, you shook your head slowly. Hesitantly, you reasoned, “It’s just you’re always in your room first before I fix the couch for bedtime. So.” You shrugged, knowing your explanation didn’t suffice.

Jungkook gave you a nod with small a smile on his lips.

“I’m sorry for making you wait, then. It’s just extra busy at the company these days.”

Your brows furrowed in curiosity, “Yeah, I heard about the collaboration with Kang Tech.”

You found out about it at work that day. It’s in the accounts payable you’ve worked on the past few days, and when you asked Joonhwi and Sol about it, they confirmed the recent moves the company is recently making.

You also realized then that the reason why the mystery woman in the elevator was familiar to you was because you’ve seen pictures of her before.

Of course you’d know her. She’s the woman Jimin’s parents are trying to set him up with. The one and only Kang Heesu. She took over as CEO just very recently at Kang Tech.

Apparently, Blue Nexus and Kang Tech are collaborating on a product that will be announced later during the month – which explains her being at the company oftentimes, Jungkook being busy, drowned with work stuff – them working closely together.

Whatever you felt on that day you saw them together – you’d like to dismiss that as just a blip in the system. Your system, to be exact.

It isn’t any of your business whoever gets around with Jungkook. Whether he’s close with Kang Heesu outside work or not (like what you’ve pondered about ever since finding out about the information of their collaboration) – that’s their thing.

“Yeah, the team’s been working overtime because of it.” Jungkook added to your words from earlier.

“So, you’re more tired than I am,” You pointed out, noting the obvious. He went to work at the ass-crack of dawn, went home late, and whenever he was home – all he faced was his laptop.

You even doubt he was getting enough sleep. There were bags under his eyes that weren’t there the past month you first met him – and even though he carried them with a certain grace, you could still see that some of the shine in his eyes was becoming absent.

You were glad you were able to prepare something for him. Did something for him. You didn’t have to – but you did. Because you wanted to be a helpful roommate.

“Does it show?” Jungkook chuckled, leaning back on the chair, a bashful expression on his face.

You shook your head. “Nope. But yeah, you don’t need to give up your bedroom tonight. I’ll be fine here.”

“I actually bought something. Wait a minute,” Jungkook suddenly said. Your brows furrowed when you watched him saunter over the living room and in towards his bedroom. When he came back to the dining area, he was carrying a huge paper bag. You looked at him, visibly confused. Jungkook cleared his throat as he sat back down on his seat. “I was thinking you could use this. It’s a foldable cushion or whatever so you can sleep more comfortably on the couch.”

You gawked at the paper bag, and then at him.

“What?”

“I went to the mall yesterday and the lady told me this is one of their best sellers… I don’t know. Do you want to have a look at it?” Jungkook said, worry seeping in his tone.

“That’s a… cushion? For the couch?”

He nodded.

“Oh.” Was the only thing you could utter. You didn’t really know what to say. “I… this is really thoughtful. You didn’t have to, you know that, right?”

Jungkook shook his head and gave you a small smile.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You told him sincerely.

“It’s nothing.” He waved you off. “I got that dry-cleaned already, by the way, so you can use it tonight if you really insist on sleeping on the couch.” Jungkook said with a teasing smile.

“That,” you point to the paper bag, “will single-handedly get me to want to live here for another three months.”

Jungkook raised his brow. “Really?”

You chuckled, leaving the conversation up on the air.

When you both finished your meal, you offered to do the dishes yourself, but Jungkook was insistent to do it, saying you’ve already done a lot for the day. You begged to differ, but you relented, anyway.

After you showered and made the couch, geeking internally at how soft the cushion he bought was, you couldn’t sleep right away, your mind finding it hard to focus on the lull of the crickets. So, at around 11 pm, you opened your laptop to pull up an X-Files episode, thinking it could condition you into being sleepy.

You promised yourself you were just going to finish one more episode, but the next episode button was too tempting and you found yourself binging the show into the wee hours of the night.

“__?” A voice coming from the far end of the room called, followed by the clicking sound of the lights turning on. With that, you found Jungkook standing on his door with his eyes half-lidded, hands rubbing his chest, seemingly having just woken up from his sleep.

“Jungkook,” you acknowledged him, straying your attention from your show. Jungkook started to trot towards the direction of the kitchen, and your eyes followed him as he stopped in front of his fridge, taking some water out and pouring it into a glass.

After he drank it, he looked at you to ask, “Can’t sleep?” You nodded your head. He made his way towards the couch, pointing at it. “Would you mind?”

“No, do you want to?” You adjusted the duvet you put all over your back to make room for him, and Jungkook placed himself beside you, peering over the screen on your laptop.

“What are you watching?” He asked, voice a little groggy.

“The X-Files. You know the show?”

“Heard about it a few times. Never gotten around to watch it, though,” Jungkook said, leaning on the back of the couch, eyes still glued to your laptop.

You smiled. “Maybe you can start it now.”

“What’s it about?”

“Uh… aliens,” you started off, feeling a little silly about it. Gauging his reaction, you waited for him to give you a judgmental look but he seemed to be intrigued when he looked at you, asking for more details. You perked up that, feeling suddenly excited. “Okay, so, the guy here – his name’s Mulder. He’s an FBI agent who’s tasked on cases that have, you know, unexplainable nature. Basically, he believes in aliens, all that ET stuff,” you explained. Right on time, Gillian Anderson appears on frame. Pointing at her, you looked at Jungkook as you introduced her to him, “And the woman – she’s so pretty – that’s Scully. She’s a skeptic. She’s an FBI agent who’s also a scientist and was assigned to be with him to debunk his work.”

“So, they investigate cases together?” Jungkook added.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, and it’s different for each episode. There’s the alien storyline which is like, the main plot of the show, but there’s the fun filler episodes. Monster of the week, they call it. I’m rewatching one of those right now ‘cause they’re fun and don’t have a backstory.”

“It sounds good,” Jungkook looked impressed, training his eyes back on the show.

You weren’t sure if he was just trying to make a conversation, but he seemed genuinely interested as you both watched the show, which tickled your excitement more. You’ve tried to get Jimin into it but he wasn’t really an avid fan of watching long shows, so you’ve given up on trying to convince him to be as obsessive of the show as you.

“Do they kiss?” Jungkook suddenly asked mid-episode, brows furrowed as he watched Mulder wiped something off the side of Scully’s lips. It’s the episode when Scully just got back from being abducted.

Amused, you looked at him and let out a chuckle. Jungkook turned to look at you, confused at the reaction.

“Hm?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s just funny. So, there’s a thing in this show, right? Scully and Mulder are not supposed to be a couple, but they act like one.”

Jungkook let out a seemingly enlightened, “Ah.” Then he looked at your screen again, “I’m watching it right now out of context and I’m assuming they’re a couple.”

“Right? They have such insane chemistry. It’s why I love this show so much.”

“Wait. They never get together? Or kiss, romantically?” Jungkook asked curiously.

“They kiss on the seventh season. We’re on the second one.”

“Wow,” He breathed, genuinely surprised. “That’s a long wait.”

“I know,” you chuckled.

You both sat beside each other as the episode finished. Jungkook would have some questions, and you happily answered each one. It was also fun to share some lore about the show – and you didn’t know if you were coming off too geeky about it – you were just unbelievably excited that he seemed to genuinely like it.

Time passed without you both noticing, and it was 2:23 am when you became hesitant on clicking the next episode button.

“Do you still want to watch another one or…” You trailed off, eyes glued to the screen, waiting to hear Jungkook’s response. But then a few seconds passed, and you didn’t receive one. Turning your head to the side, your eyes widened when you see the state Jungkook was in.

He was leaning far back on the couch with his head resting on the backrest, arms crossed over his chest, lips slightly parted with his eyes shut closed. You could see his chest rising and falling from the way he breathed in and out of sleep, looking quite peaceful regardless of his seemingly uncomfortable position.

You shut your mouth and closed your laptop quietly, trying to be careful with your movements so as to not disturb him and accidentally wake him up. Stretching your back to lean down, your breath hitched as you tried to set the laptop down on the coffee table, not daring to graze any part of Jungkook’s body, especially when his thigh was so closed to your own.

When you successfully put away the device, you went back to sitting beside him, contemplating on your next move.

You ended up staring at him, noting the way his biceps are bulging out of the sleeves of his white shirt with a thin material from their crossed position. Your eyes trailed down to the veins on his forearms, and naturally, you focused in on the one with the swirls of ink around it. It was a body of art on the first look – but looking at it at that moment – close up and free, you took time to identify the drawings on his skin.

There was that snake that trailed down close to his hand, the skeletal rock n’ roll hand, and the script that says “rather be dead than cool”. It was a shame that you couldn’t see from your current view the flower tattoo you were always curious about, nevertheless, the entirety of his inked arm was just… breathtaking, to say the least.

You wanted to ask him what they meant – or if they even meant something. You knew by now he only got them in college – when he moved to the US – and you were just curious about how he decided to get them; about the backstory, anything… Would love to trace down your fingers on his skin as he tells you the exact moment.

And then you realized what you were doing and suddenly looked away.

You felt like a creep. What were you doing, staring at him while he was unaware, unconscious in his sleep? It was not right, and you were supposed to scoot over to the edge to give him plenty of space all for himself.

But as you looked at him again, your eyes stopped at his face, and you couldn’t help but stare at it.

Again.

His nose was something you weirdly have a liking to, and there’s a scar on his cheek that once again bubbled up another layer of curiosity within you.

“Stop it.” You mumbled out loud – not loud enough for Jungkook to hear – but just enough to snap yourself out of the trance you were in.

It was stupid. So stupid. To stare at a sleeping man and have those thoughts inside your head. Jungkook would never do anything like this to you, and at that sentiment, you stood up from the couch to get away.

You caught a sight of the duvet that you used a while ago. As you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to be in dire need of one, so you made quiet steps to put it over him, stopping your breathing in case you did it too loud and he wakes up.

As you carefully laid out the blanket on top of his body, Jungkook stirred, and your breath hitched as you stopped on your tracks.

He mumbled something incoherent, his neck craning to lay on his cheek. Regardless, he stayed on his position, arms still crossed, seemingly going back to his deep sleep instantly.

You stepped out in front of him, letting out a breath of relief.

Standing there for a few seconds, you wondered about where you were going to stay. Jungkook was on the couch and unlike him – you could not carry him to his room without him noticing.

Looking at the direction of said room, you thought about staying there for the night, but decide against it. You didn’t get his permission to do so, it’d be rude—

But the couch is only one, though. And you could feel a yawn ready to come out of your own mouth, sleep lurking at the back of your head.

You could try to wake Jungkook up to tell him to go to his room so he could sleep more comfortably, but you couldn’t do it. The past few days, he had been so busy with work and seemed like he wasn’t getting enough rest. What if you woke him up and he couldn’t go back to sleep anymore? That would just make you feel bad.

Getting the pillow strewn over the edge, you walked towards the direction and fixed it against the arm rest, sitting on the spot and making yourself comfortable on it. Of course, it wasn’t – you were craning your neck too far to the side to try to lay your head, and your body was sprawled in a weird sitting and lying position.

It was fine, though. Jungkook was about two feet away from you, and you felt like you could sleep in the state.

But it was a few long minutes before it completely overtook you.

There’s a feeling of a hard plane against your back when you feel yourself waking up.

You’re in a curled position, hands tucked under your cheeks. As much as you’re starting to slowly feel conscious, you’re still not a hundred percent aware of your surroundings just yet. It’s why you ignore the blow of hot air against the crook of your neck.

When you blearily open your eyes, you’re welcomed with the sight of the back of the grey couch you’ve accustomed yourself with over the past few days. The white foldable cushion you’re lying on. The familiar scent of Jungkook’s apartment.

It’s another usual morning, as far as you’re concerned.

So, you stretch an arm up as well as your leg, groggily mumbling something as you go back to closing your eyes again to hopefully sneak in a few more minutes of sleep.

“Hmm…”

At the sudden sound, your eyes snap open, surprised at the embodied voice that came out somewhere that’s definitely not from your own mouth. It was close, though – something close to your neck; you felt it so – and at that realization, your eyes trail down to your waist, and your breath catches in your throat when you see an arm wrapped around it.

Under your head is another arm that adorns a familiar sleeve tattoo.

When you crane your neck to look behind you, you’re welcomed by Jungkook’s locks of black and messy hair, his face apparently buried in the crook of your neck.

He must’ve felt you move because he stirs in his position, mumbling something, arm tightening around you.

You feel your heart starting to beat faster than usual as you feel the tips of Jungkook’s fingers resting on the bare skin of your stomach due to your camisole riding up, and your eyes continue to widen when you saw that the shirt he’s worn last night is now lying haphazardly across the coffee table where your laptop is.

When Jungkook pushes himself against you closer, that’s when you feel something hard against the cleft of your ass.

“Oh my god!”

“What the fuck!”

“I’m so sorry!” You immediately say, retreating your hands that just pushed him off the couch once everything registered in your head.

You just… slept with each other! You woke up with Jungkook spooning you! The hard plane against your back that you felt earlier was his chest and the hot air blowing in your ear was his breath! You both fell asleep together on the couch!

Jungkook – the poor man – visibly winces as he cradles the back of his head, adjusting himself on the floor after you forcefully yeeted him off the couch.

He didn’t expect that, of course he didn’t! He still looks like he’s half asleep when you kneel on the floor in front of him, grabbing his shoulders and craning your neck to check if you’ve done damage to his head.

“What the hell was that for?” Jungkook asks, still lost about what just happened.

You grimace as you hesitantly put your palm over the back of his head and rub to soothe the pain you’ve caused him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. I was just surprised and shocked when I–”

You stopped speaking when you notice that Jungkook is looking up at you, eyes half-lidded from sleep. Stopping your ministration on the back of his head, you retreat your hands to yourself and look away.

“We slept together.”

“What?” Jungkook asks, his tone incredulous, but more like confused. When you train your eyes to him again, you see him looking down on his body and then yours.

Your cheeks heat up when you realize what you just said.

“Oh my god, no! Not slept slept with each other! I mean, we slept together. Like, literally.” You say, looking at him in panic.

Jungkook furrows his brows. And then after a beat of silence, he lets out a low, “Oh.”

“Oh?” You parrot back.

“Yeah, oh,” He says drily. Jungkook rubs his eyes with his fists and then looks at you again. “I’m sorry, I feel disoriented. I just woke up.”

You wince at that, feeling bad for pushing him again.

It was just a reflex thing, okay! Especially when you felt that certain something in your ass.

When Jungkook stands up from the floor, you notice the strings of his grey shorts getting undone, and your eyes betray you as they pay a look at the noticeable bulge on his crotch.

Jesus H. Fucking Christ.

You stand up quickly, following after him, feeling your heart hammer in your chest.

Okay, boo-fucking-hoo! Men get boners in the mornings. What’s the big deal about it?

“What time is it?” Jungkook asks, brushing his hair back, and you have to physically look away and try to busy yourself by looking for your phone so you can ignore his naked chest on display and his abs and stupid big arms.

You spot your phone nearby and turn it on.

“Six thirty.”

“Shit.” Jungkook hisses.

You’ve never heard him let out so many curses before.

“What? It’s still early.” you say, in case he was referring to work.

Jungkook shakes his head. “Yeah, no. I was supposed to get ready at five am sharp. Need to go there early.”

“Oh.”

He groans, and the sound makes your stomach feel a little weird.

“I have to go shower,” Jungkook says, picking up his shirt from the coffee table. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Huh?” You realize what he’s talking about and is then quick to shake your head. “No, not your fault. I, uh, you fell asleep on the couch last night and I didn’t want to wake you.”

He nods, more like to himself. “How did we…?” Jungkook points between you, eyeing the couch.

“I didn’t want to use your bed without your permission, so I slept on the couch as well,” But then you decide to add, “But I didn’t sleep beside you, I was like –” you point to the edge of the couch, “there.”

“Ah,” Jungkook follows your eyes, and then nods. “Okay.”

“Yeah.” you purse your lips into a thin line. “Sorry about that. I should’ve just woken you up, huh?”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He dismisses you with a wave of his hand. “Well, is it okay if I use the shower first?”

“Of course.”

Jungkook smiles before he saunters towards the bathroom. You try not to stare at the hard lines of his retreating back, taping down to his narrow waist.

You failed to do that, obviously.

Sighing out loud when you’re sure he can’t hear you, you busy yourself in the kitchen to make some toast.

After work, you paid a quick visit to your apartment to see how it’s going, since you’re supposed to be able to come back tomorrow.

Your building manager told you that you can pretty much move back already, but there’s no water yet, so you will still have to stay at Jungkook’s place for the last time. At least for another night.

Speaking of him, when you step out on your porch, you see him in front of his own unit, back turned to you, opening his door.

“Hey,” you call. Jungkook turns on his heel, and he smiles as he sees you.

“Hey,” He greets, his hand pausing on the door. Jungkook gives you his undivided attention as he looks at you. “Your apartment’s fine now?”

You nod happily, grinning widely. “Yeah. But I have no water yet. They’re turning it on tomorrow.” You saunter towards his direction and stop beside him. Pointing to the paper bags in his hands, you ask, “What’s that?”

Jungkook lifts them up. “Soju and Midday Miso take-out.” Then, hesitantly, he looks at you curiously. “Do you drink?”

That prompts you to laugh.

“Of course. Are you drinking tonight?”

He nods his head. “Yeah. I was gonna ask you to drink with me… but if you’re not up for it, I’ll just be in my room.”

You cock your head to the side.

“What’s the occasion?”

Jungkook chuckles. “Nothing. Just thought I could loosen up.”

You nod in understanding.

You think about asking him how work’s been, but decide against it, not wanting to pry in case he doesn’t want to talk about any of it.

As you both enter his apartment, it’s almost so domesticated how you take off your shoes and put them in the rack in the threshold. Jungkook wears his black sliders while you wear your baby blue ones. Following him into the living room, it’s almost wild to see yourself being so familiar with his place already.

“Where can we watch The X-Files?” Jungkook asks suddenly after he set the bags on the table, going for the remote and turning on the TV.

You look at him in surprise, not expecting him to ask that.

You answer nonetheless, and Jungkook clicks on the show once it shows up on the screen.

“Do you really want to start with the pilot episode?” You chuckle when he hovers over it.

Jungkook grins. “I enjoyed it last night. Maybe this could be a new favorite.”

“Woah,” you breathed, shaking your head. “Do you know how much I have to convince Jimin to watch this show?”

“Jimin doesn’t like shows. I wanted him to watch Suits but he said he couldn’t stand Harvey Specter – which is fair.”

“Oh my god, that’s also what he told me when I recommended Suits!” You say. You narrow your eyes at him, excited about the information. “So… you like Suits?”

Jungkook nods. “Sort of like a guilty pleasure? I used to watch it a lot in college. My roommate studied law and started telling me about how inaccurate it was, but it’s fun regardless,” He says with a shrug. “Sue me.”

“I know, right! People always wanna be smart about procedural dramas, but I think it’s just camp they can’t comprehend,” You shake your head, feeling a certain high bubble inside you. You lean your elbows on the coffee table. “Okay, okay, thoughts on Jessica Pearson?”

Jungkook grins. “A dream.”

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I’m so glad you have the correct opinion.”

Jungkook laughs at that, and you begin to eat the take-out he bought, The X-Files playing on the big screen before you.

“You went home early today,” you comment as you take the shot glass he offers you.

A few minutes has passed already and you’re beginning to open the bottles of soju, Midday Miso take-out boxes all finished.

“Managed to finish early tonight. That’s probably why I wanted to drink,” Jungkook says, tipping his head back to drink from his own bottle. “Also, it’s your last day here.”

You nod. With a teasing smile, you jab, “Are you going to miss me?”

Jungkook looks at you briefly.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” You ask incredulously, feigning hurt.

He chuckles. “I liked your little dance in the kitchen last Sunday.”

Your lips part, recalling that time when you reheated some pizza during the night. As far as you were concerned, Jungkook was in his bedroom at that time!

“You saw that?” You say, embarrassed.

Jungkook must’ve noticed, because he chuckles and begins to sound comforting when he says, “Some part of it, yeah. Megan Thee Stallion would love to perform with you, I think.”

“Oh my god, no,” You giggle, covering your face with your hands because if he caught you during that part, it means he saw you trying to throw it back. “Yeah, I think I’m packing my things right now.”

Jungkook laughs, and his eyes crinkle as he does so, overjoyed at your tactics.

“I thought you wanted to drink with me?”

You squint your eyes. “Just because I feel sorry for pushing you off the couch this morning.”

He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Yeah, that hurt. I think I have a bump on my head right now.”

You stop, eyes widening. “Seriously?”

Jungkook presses his lips together and nods. You grow concerned, ready to lean over the table to check the back of his head, but as you do so, Jungkook makes a sound of stifling his laugh and you realize he’s fucking with you.

“That’s so mean.” you say, going back to your side and pouting at him.

“Not meaner than you pushing me off the couch.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. You just surprised me, 's all!”

Jungkook laughs and nods his head. “I know, I know. I’m sorry about that. I have a habit of being able to sleep anywhere.”

You scrunch your face. “Me too.”

And then a beat of silence.

Jungkook tips his head back for another sip of his alcohol. When he looks at you again, a gentle smile is playing on his lips.

“I had a good night sleep, though. Did you?”

He looks at you with something in his eyes – something soft and gentle – his gaze making the hair on your nape stand and your cheeks burn.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

The night continues to envelope your surroundings and as time passes by, the empty bottles of soju multiply.

You’ve always had a high tolerance for alcohol – and soju, in particular, is generally not too strong for you personally. With one bottle in, you don’t feel hammered just yet. There’s a daze at the back of your head that you’re starting to feel, though. One and a half is your limit, sometimes two – you’ve had that down since college.

Jungkook seems to share the same trait, it seems like. You noticed he’s on his second one, and even though his cheeks are starting to get painted red, he still speaks with you like he’s a hundred percent conscious and not like alcohol’s hit his system already.

“It’s so hot,” you say, popping open the first two buttons of your shirt. Jungkook’s coat has long been disposed on the couch, and his ties are loosened, with the long sleeves of his dress shirt pushed to his elbow, showing his tattoos.

“Should I adjust the AC?” Jungkook asks, looking at you as you gather your hair up in a ponytail.

You manage to secure it even without a tie and answer him, “No, it’s fine.”

When you feel like you can breathe again, you look at Jungkook. As you think about what to say next, you giggle lightly.

“Let’s have some fun with these,” You point to the empty bottle of soju. Jungkook quirks his brow, which prompts you to continue. “Let’s play spin the bottle. When it points at you, you have to answer some questions. If you don’t want to, then you’ll have to drink.”

Jungkook snorts. “Truth or dare? Really?”

You roll your eyes. “No, not truth or dare. Just truth because I’m sophisticated like that. Besides, are you going to entertain me if I dare you to wear a rainbow suit for work tomorrow?”

“This is your idea of fun?” Jungkook says, teasing you. Playful with a boyish grin.

You shrug. “I mean, it’s quite fun, actually. But I know about how thirty-year-olds get. If it’s past your bedtime, then…” you glance at the door to his bedroom.

Jungkook bursts out in laughter.

“You like making it sound like I’m sixty, don’t you?”

“Are you?” You pout.

Jungkook chuckles, although relenting to your game proposition.

“Alright…”

You do a little shoulder dance which makes Jungkook shake his head. As you spin the bottle, it stops and points at him. You let out a little sound of enthusiasm.

“Okay. What’s that mean?” You ask. Jungkook looks confused as he tries to see what you’re looking at. His arm. “That flower tattoo – or if it even has a meaning.”

“Oh,” Jungkook utters, realizing. He lifts up his right arm and twists it so that the flower tattoo is within both your sight. There, you see a full view of the flower drawing tattooed in orange ink. You find yourself staring at it as Jungkook starts to speak, “It’s a tiger lily. My birth flower. It means…” You can see Jungkook hesitate for a little while, and you’re just about to take back your question when he continues to say, “It means please love me.”

“Wow.” You gasp. “That’s… so pretty.”

Jungkook caresses his forearm, staring quite lovingly at the art. “I know. My tattoo artist did a really good job.”

He takes it to himself to spin the bottle again, and this time, it points at you.

“Well… do you have a tattoo?” Jungkook asks, and it’s obvious he meant to tease.

You nod your head. His playful smile drops.

“Are you serious?”

You raise your brow at him. “Sorry. Only one question gets entertained.”

He clicks his tongue playfully but then begins to spin the bottle one more time. When it points at you again, he gives you a smirk.

“Can I see your tattoo if you’re saying you have one?”

You scrunch your face, cocking your head to the side.

“Hm. I don’t think so. It’s under my boob. So.”

Jungkook stills, and you watch as his eyes trail down from your face down to your collar – although he did it quite subtly.

“Oh.”

You grin. “Yeah, “oh”,” you chuckle. When he shakes his head, you tell him, “What?” You look at him weird, regardless of the smile on your lips. He stares right back at you, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Ohh, I see. You think I’m lying.”

“No, I’m not,” he scoffs. “I just thought…”

“You just thought what?”

“I just thought you wouldn’t have one. Or if you did, it’d be a like a small thing on the leg or something. I don’t know.” He shrugs, still smiling.

You grin. “Interesting insight.”

“Nevermind that.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, spinning the bottle again.

When the rotation stills at his direction, you clap a little and put your elbows on the coffee table.

Your next question sounds stupid in your head, but you let it out anyway.

“What’s your ideal type?” You ask.

“Oh, are we doing that?” Jungkook says, sounding intrigued. “Are you going to ask me about my first kiss next?”

You snort. “This feels so high school. But answer my question.”

“Yes, ma’am,” He playfully gives you a salute. You couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, well, I like women who are smart and… funny,” Jungkook says, and when he looks at you, you move back a little. With a soft smile, he adds, “And pretty.”

You break the eye contact. Raising your brow, you nod your head. “Pretty women. Like Kang Heesu, right?”

Jungkook looks surprised when he hears the name.

“How do you know her?”

“How can I not? Jimin’s mother has been trying to set him up with her for months now.” You shrug.

Jungkook chuckles, as if he knows exactly what you’re talking about.

“Yeah. You’re right – not about the part that she’s my ideal type, though.”

You can’t help but let out a scoff.

“That’s such a cop-out answer, Jungkook.”

He looks at you incredulously, chuckling as he says, “What? It’s not a cop-out, it’s the truth.”

“You’re awfully close with her. I heard from my coworkers you’re both dating.” You raise a brow at him.

It’s true. Words are starting to get around the office that Jungkook and Heesu are more than just collaborators.

Of course, you know to ignore that. Not because you want to be in denial or anything – but because you just don’t think it is actually true.

But maybe poking fun at it will get you the confirmation. Or whatever. It doesn’t matter.

Jungkook laughs at your previous words, though, as if you just told him a big joke.

“God, no,” he shakes his head, as if he couldn’t believe it. “They’re really saying that?” You nod your head, your lips pressed into a thin line. “I ought to make everybody know we’re just working together. You know about the project the company has in collaboration with Kang Tech, right?”

“Yeah.”

“There you go,” Jungkook chuckles. “I’m not dating Kang Heesu.”

The words feel a bit different in your ears. Paired with the way he looked at you as he said it, he sounded as though he was… almost assuring you.

But of what?

You shake off the idea in your head.

“Okay. Next one.” you interrupt the silence to change the subject. You curse in your head when the bottle stops at you.

“Your turn. What’s your ideal type?” Jungkook asks as if his tongue is just itching to ask you that. You know he’s just excited to get back at you.

You think about it for a moment, though, and you find you don’t really know what to say.

It’s not a thought you ponder over a lot. The guys that you’ve been with were so… different from each other.

“I—I’m not sure,” you shake your head, genuine.

Jungkook points at the shot glass. “New rule. I’ll count to ten and if you don’t answer, you drink.”

You glare at him; he just gives you a grin.

“I really don’t know! I mean, my past relationships are so different from each other,” you say, pouting. “But— okay. I guess I like guys who are… confident,” You look at Jungkook and then let your mind float. “And I guess I also like somebody who’s…” You watch as he leans in closer to wait for your next words. Your feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you finish up with, “Attentive. I like good listeners. Yeah.”

“Ah,” Jungkook nods. And then, he adds, “Is Shin Taemu from the IT department a good listener, then?”

Your brows furrow. “Shin Taemu?” He nods. That earns a laugh from you. “No, we’re friends.”

“Friends?” Jungkook asks curiously.

“Well, we – uh – did date. Didn’t work out. So. We’re only friends now.”

“Date, as in, a long relationship?” His eyes are so full of genuine curiosity that you cower away from them.

You shake your head at his question. “No, no – not long relationship, it wasn’t like that. I meant date as in – dinner date. Once.” You look at the shot glass and down it because of the sudden nerves that enter you. “We’re doing this game wrong.”

Jungkoon chuckles at the way you drink another glass. He mirrors your action, though, and ask, “How so? We’re questioning each other.”

“Yeah, but it’s too many questions!” You complain, jutting your lips into a pout.

“You said you only wanted truth, so there goes your questions,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, which makes him laugh. “Okay, just so I can amuse you, I’ll do a dare if it points at me, and you’ll do one if it stops at you. Deal?”

When you nod, Jungkook spins the bottle. He did it quite forcefully that the bottle takes a longer time to stop. You both watch keenly as it begins to slow down. Nervous, you pray it doesn’t stop at you, and you let out a sigh of relief when it finally points to Jungkook.

Jungkook shakes his head when you let out a contained, “Yes!”

“I dare you to…” you trail off, watching as he looks at you curiously. “Let me pluck your brows.”

“What?” Jungkook asks incredulously.

“A promise is a promise.” You remind him.

“Like all of them?”

“What? Of course no!” You chuckle, seeing the genuine panic in his eyes.

“Oh.”

“You silly,” You say, laughing at him. “Not right now, though. I actually feel like I’m about to pass out. Oh my god, I have to tend to a hung-over tomorrow.” You let your face fall into your hands and stifle a groan.

“I’ll cook us some porridge or something, don’t worry.” Jungkook says. Curiously, he asks, “Why do you want to pluck my brows?”

You stare at him, and then focus your eyes onto his brows.

Pouting, you let your shoulders deflate as you sigh. “They’re so thick.”

“What?” Jungkook lets out, laughing incredulously. “I’m so confused.”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Okay… well, would you let me pluck your brows?”

You try to think about it.

“No,” you shake your head. You add, “Unless you’re flirting with me.”

Jungkook stops. And then raises a brow. “Unless I’m flirting with you…”

You snap your eyes to look at him. Mirroring his brow, you ask, “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe,” Jungkook looks at you, lips tilted into a barely-there smirk that suddenly makes your cheeks burn with heat. “Do you like it?”

It takes you a while to answer, processing his words. You don’t know if he’s joking or what. Is this just his usual teasing? It feels different this time.

But why are you denying it again to yourself, though? You may be stupid sometimes, but you know his teasing gets a little… borderline flirty. You’re scared to ask him about it outright, though – afraid to be faced with the possible truth that it’s just your head playing mind-tricks for you; that Jungkook, with his teasing, is not flirty at all and you’re just flattering yourself to think about it that way.

But right now, his question feels real.

If he is flirting with you… do you like it?

You pour a drink into the shotglass and down it quickly. You feel your vision starting to get a little hazy as you put it down the table.

Jungkook realizes what you just did, and then throw his head back to laugh.

“Now, that was a cop-out.” He says, pointing to the trick that you just did.

You give him a smirk. “No rules about not answering except down a drink.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Smart girl.”

He watches as you stand up, but when you trip over the carpet, he’s quick to follow and go over to your direction to hold your wrist, his arm going around your waist to guide you to stand upright.

“You okay?” He asks. When you look up, your faces are just a hair's breadth away.

“Hm.” You hum, blinking your eyes up at him. You find it’s because your lids are starting to get heavy.

“Be careful.” Jungkook says, but he doesn’t let go of your waist, nor your wrist.

You stand there in the middle of the living room with that position, and weirdly enough, you feel like you’re both glued on it.

You can’t move – or don’t want to. You wish you want to. But you don’t, and it’s why you let Jungkook’s fingers trail softly to your waist.

“You look real sleepy,” he comments – whispers, more like, his bated breath hitting your skin.

“I am a bit dazy.” You say, finding yourself indulging in his touch.

Somehow, Jungkook never makes a move to get away even when you’re already steady on both feet. You feel that fading away so soon though, your knees starting to feel like they’re about to buckle at the way Jungkook’s eyes bore deep into your own. You feel a sort of heightened sense within your body, his hand on your back making something in you tingle.

It’s so intimate – the position. Jungkook looms over you with his much bigger frame and with his support on your back, you can just let yourself fall back.

Can you, though? Are you sure he’s going to catch you?

“You do look a little dazy,” Jungkook comments, but his eyes have traveled down to your face, and you can see them stop at your lips.

That makes them part.

You see Jungkook’s adam’s apple bobbing at the action.

“I do feel dazy,” you say, parroting back his words. Maybe they’re coming off slurred. You don’t know. You find you don’t care.

Jungkook’s lips tilt into a gentle smile. Soft like his demeanor. Soft like his arm that somehow found a way to tighten its hold around you even though you don’t need it. But it’s Jungkook though, and as much as you deny it even to yourself – you do like his touch.

“Yeah, you told me so.” His voice becomes an octave lower. His hands start to rub your clothed waist, and the ministrations of his thumb distract you a bit.

You roam your eyes around his face – noting the scar on his cheek which story you want to know so bad. When you trail you eyes down to his lips, you see the mole under it. You don’t think you were being subtle at all – it’s quite obvious that you’re just staring.

And you know Jungkook notices.

“Jungkook,” you breathed out, calling him about nothing in particular.

His only response is a small, gentle hum.

A beat of silence, and you feel Jungkook’s face leaning closer to yours.

You don’t make a move away from him, just let your legs stay where they are, letting Jungkook slowly pull you to him. You can tell his movements are slower than usual – like he’s testing the waters, searching for something in your eyes, quietly asking if it’s okay – if what he’s about to do is okay.

It makes your heart hammer against your chest – his breathing becoming more audible in your own ears. His mouth reeks of the soju you both drank earlier, but you’ve always liked the smell of it, especially when it comes with a man as breathtaking as him.

You feel the tip of his nose touching yours, your chest pressing against his own, his hand travelling from your waist to the back of your head.

When Jungkook leans down to close the gap, you swerve your face just in time to have his lips press against your hair instead.

“I’m sleepy.” You say quietly, a nervous lilt to your voice. You duck your head a little lower, laying your face on his chest and bury it with his scent.

You can feel Jungkook freeze in his position, taken aback by the sudden turn of events. You hope he doesn’t feel the way your heart goes abnormal in your chest with such proximity – but right now, all you want to do is hide. Hide your face away from him because if he sees you, he’ll know exactly what you’re thinking.

He’ll know exactly the effect he has on you.

It takes a few seconds of silence before Jungkook comes back to you.

“Hm,” He hums, and you feel his hand letting go of your wrist to wrap around your waist, squeezing for a brief moment. Jungkook’s other hand cradles your head to his chest, swiping his hand against your hair in a repeated manner, and with the way he rests his chin on the crown of your head, you feel comfort in the whole thing. “We should sleep.”

“Yeah…” you trail off, and you can just feel your lids getting heavier at the remark.

“Yeah?”

“Hm.”

“I’ll take the couch. Do you want to shower first?” You shake your head against his chest. You feel it vibrating when he chuckles. “Okay.”

“My body feels like jelly.” You say, and you feel that to be actually true.

“Is that code for “carry me to your bed, Jungkook”?”

You’re thankful your face is buried in his chest as you smile widely.

“Do you want it to be?”

“I don’t mind.”

You nod. “Good. I think I’ll get alcohol poisoning tomorrow.”

You feel Jungkook lifting his chin off your head as he sounds scold-y when he says, “Don’t joke like that.”

You giggle against his chest.

“Carry me before I pass out.”

Jungkook snorts. “Ohh. Bossy.”

“It’s my last day here. I deserve some slack.” You grumble.

“Fine.”

TAGLIST: @mortal-body-timelesssoul @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lachimolalajeon @miniesjams32 @parkinglot-nights @peterstarkchrishiddleston @aznstoner @chuberry22 @tae-hibiscus @jungkooksmytype

note: pls check your account settings if you are enabling ur profile to be tagged.

#fic: nb #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts smut #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader

826 notes · View notes

satxnsupreme666 · 1 month ago

Text

You don’t know her: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader, platonic!Mothers!WandaNat x fem!reader, platonic!Avengers x fem!reader

Summary: You’re an avenger and you’re dating Agatha Harkness, but none of the avengers know that, Wanda and Natasha are the ones who are more worried since you´re like their daughter, so all of them make a reunion to know who’s your secret date and they decide to spy on you, what will happen when they discover that you’re dating a “villain”?

Warnings: Slight angst, apart from that pure fluff.

Word count: 13.4K

Author’s note: Hello again! Alright so in this story Thanos never happened, the Avengers never split up and Wanda and Natasha are like your mothers

This was one of the first stories I wrote three years ago, I had posted them on Tumblr on my old account, but due to my mental health, I had to take a break from Tumblr and the toxicity and hate that had suddenly increased, I deleted all of my stories and my old account, now I have decided to upload them again here on Tumblr and also on Ao3.

I hope you like it!

If you enjoy, could you comment, like or reblog? it would help a lot really ♥️

Taglist: @midnight-lestrange @eliscannotdance

"Are you going out again? “Natasha asked you from her spot in the chair, her question made that everyone else who was sitting around the table lifted their heads to look at you, many eyes were on you waiting for an answer.

"Yes, I’m going to meet a friend” You said trying to sound as calm as possible.

“And who is this friend of yours? Do you know this friend of her kid?” Tony asked Peter whose head eagerly shook.

“I have friends outside here, why are you interrogating me?” You asked with a frown, but you didn’t want to seem suspicious so you quickly changed that frown into a smile.

“We just want to make sure you’re alright” Said Wanda who was sitting next to Natasha, Wanda nodded her head and she looked at you with an expectant look on her face.

“Well, you do not have to worry about that, because I’m alright” You said with a smile in your face, that wasn’t a lie, you were doing really fine, more than fine actually.

“So, then, tell us, who is this friend of yours?” Natasha inquired while she raised one of her eyebrows, you tried to calm yourself, you didn’t want to lie to Nat, but you had to, you couldn’t tell them who you were going to meet because you knew how they would react, you really hated lying to Nat and to Wanda, but this time you didn’t have any other option.

You really couldn’t tell them her name, she was not even your friend, you were going to see Agatha your girlfriend, but you knew they were not too keen on her, you really couldn’t tell them if you wanted to, so you had to come up with a fake name, but why it was suddenly too hard to think of a name? Everyone around the table looked at you patiently waiting for an answer, Tony was crossing his arms with a frown on his face, Natasha was raising an eyebrow, You could see Peter’s expression full of curiosity, Wanda was frowning and her hands were on the table, you were sure she was trying to read your mind, but thanks to your powers you were able to stop her from entering into your mind, you were glad about that.

“Her name is Agnes” You blurted out; you really hoped the believed you.

“What is her last name?” Natasha asked, what were you supposed to say? If you came up with a fake one and they found out there was an actual person with that name, they would investigate that person, you had to think of something else.

“I won’t tell you because everything you will do will be to look for her on social media and try to hack into her accounts, and just so you know she doesn’t have any social media, but still, I won’t tell you, also It’s getting really late and I have to meet her, see you later” You quickly walked away from them and went straight to the lift, leaving them with more questions than answers.

“Do you know who’s Agnes kid?” Asked Tony when you left the room.

“No Mr. Stark, I don’t know, I’m surprised I don’t even know about this girl, she tells me everything, but now the only thing she told me was that she had met someone at the library some months ago” Peter said recalling what had happened.

“Some months ago!? When were you planning on telling us?” Natasha snarled; Peter just blinked a little before speaking again.

“I didn’t think it was important at the time” Peter explained, he never really thought too much about it.

“Alright but, you could have told us that y/n had met someone, we just want to make sure she’s alright, we just realized that she’s dating someone a few weeks ago thanks to Steve, and now she’s not telling us about this secret person” Natasha kept saying and her girlfriend Wanda agreed with her, that was true, they just wanted to make sure you were alright.

“Did you catch a glimpse of who could it be?” Natasha asked her girlfriend a second later.

“No, she was blocking me, she didn’t let me, she’s really good at it, now she blocks her mind almost all the time, she really doesn’t want us to know who’s this girl, but I don’t understand why?” Wanda asked with a frown, you didn’t use to keep secrets from them.

“Maybe because last time you intimidated the last girl she was seeing, she didn’t talk to y/n again, because she told y/n that you scared the shit out of her and she didn’t want to have problems with the Avengers?” Peter reasoned

“Language!” Said Steve who was entering to the dining room

“That was different kid, that girl was suspicious” Tony argued, he had been there when they went to look for you because you weren’t answering your phone and they were too worried about you.

“He’s right Peter, that girl was too suspicious, the day we went to look for y/n and her at that coffee shop we found that girl searching for something in y/n’s back-pack” Wanda nodded, Nat was right, that girl was really weird and when they told you about what they had seen, you had felt really bad, you thought that girl was different.

“Fair enough” Said Peter and Tony, Natasha and Wanda nodded at the same time.

“Did she leave again? This is the fourth time in a week” Steve commented while he took a sit next to Wanda and Natasha.

“The fourth time? I thought this was the second time, two days ago I found her talking to someone on the phone and when I walked closer to her to listen to what she was saying she quickly stopped talking, I asked her who she was talking to and she just told me ‘No one’ and with that she quickly left” Natasha recalled the events of some days ago.

“Last Monday when Bucky and I went for some snacks and we were driving down the street a few blocks away from here, we saw y/n coming out from a black car, we supposed it was one of her friends from college but, now that you’re talking about this, it was really weird to see that car parked a few blocks away from here, why wouldn’t she just decided to leave y/n here at the front of the building?” Now that Steve thought about it he really found it really strange, what were you hiding?

“Why didn’t you tell us that Steve? None of her friends from college owns a car” Natasha said while standing from her sit to grab a drink from the fridge

“Miss Romanoff´s right we always take the bus or we just walk” Peter rushed to say

“Could it be that this 'Agnes’ was the one who drove her?” This time Wanda was asking, they were not sure why all this secrecy about this girl.

“Maybe it was one of our professors who drove her here” Peter interrupted; it could be that.

“What do you mean Peter?” Wanda squinted her eyes at him, what was that supposed to mean?

Everyone there turned their heads to look at him

“Well there’s this English professor, her name’s Dottie and I’ve seen the way she looks at y/n, Ned and I share that class with y/n and we’ve seen how professor Dottie comes looking for her or the way she speaks to her, she´s always attentive with y/n, Ned says Mrs. Dottie really likes y/n, one day I was talking with y/n in the hall when classes finished and Mrs. Dottie came to where we were and she asked y/n if she needed a lift, maybe Mrs. Dottie asked her that on Monday and y/n agreed, because last Monday she left early because she said she had to go to the library, but that she would come back a little later to the tower, maybe that´s why you saw her on Monday” Peter said recalling what had happened on Monday.

"Are you saying that this woman, who’s y/n’s professor flirts with her?” Natasha was shocked just as everyone else in the room.

“I wouldn’t say that, y/n always says that she’s just being nice to her, also you know she’s the best of her class, teachers like her”

“Peter, there’s one big difference between being nice and being a flirt with someone” Natasha told him, she was shocked, why hadn’t you told her or Wanda what had been going on? Wanda sensed her girlfriend´s state and she put her hand on Natasha´s shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze.

“What if she’s dating her professor and she just doesn’t want us to find out?” Steve asked, he couldn’t believe it, you were not the one to keep secrets.

“Is y/n dating one of her professors?” A surprised voice was heard from the door and everyone saw Scott Lang standing there.

“We don’t know that yet, but what if she’s dating her?” Wanda asked to everyone with a concerned look on her face.

“Well that would be really cool, right? Isn’t it what everyone wishes? To date one of their teachers? Good for her” Scott commented while he sat down next to Steve, Scot had a grin on his face while he moved his hands.

Everyone around the table looked at him with a serious look on their faces; Natasha, Wanda, Tony and Steve had an annoyed expression on their faces.

“What? No? Is it not good? No? Well then not good for her?” Scott tried to change what he had said.

Peter couldn’t help himself and he laughed at Scott.

“I just thought that maybe, every young person had the fantas-”

“Please stop, just, stop” Said Wanda with a frown on her face.

Tony took off his glasses and he brought his free hand to rub his face a little.

“Alright, alright I’m sorry” Lang said while lifting his hands in the air.

“I don’t really think that y/n’s been dating Mrs. Dottie” Peter suddenly said to the others, his hand on his chin as he seemed to be thinking about that possibility.

“Why do you think that Peter?” Wanda and Natasha rushed to ask, they were really concerned about you, they just didn’t want that someone would play with you, they really loved you and if someone broke your heart Natasha and Wanda would make sure that person never forget what they did to you.

“I just don’t think y/n is into her, she always declines Mrs. Dottie apologetically and never stays too long talking to her”

“What if y/n does that so that no one in her class suspects about what is going on between them, what if it is just an alibi to make everyone believe they don’t have something going on between them?” Scott nodded and looked at everyone with a smirk.

“I think you watch too much TV Lang” Tony said shaking his hand

“Maybe you’re right” Scot said with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Alright, alright, what can we do now? y/n’s not going to tell us who’s this person she’s been seeing” Steve said while he put both of his arms on the table.

“We need to do something to know who she’s dating, we don’t know nothing about this person, what if this girl just wants to take advantage of her? What if she’s evil and wants to manipulate y/n? There are many possibilities, what if it’s an infiltrated of Hydra? We have to keep y/n safe” Steve was serious, everyone could see his expression, when it came to you, everything was important for everyone, you were important for them, you were the youngest one and you were part of their family.

“That’s what we’ve been saying Steve, but she even blocks her mind when Wanda’s around” Natasha placed her hand on Wanda’s knee.

“What if we follow to one of her dates, like an undercover operation” Scott shrugged and he raised his eyebrows, everyone in the room lifted ther heads to look at him with a shocked expression on their faces.

“What? No? I just thought that maybe-”

“That’s actually an amazing idea” Steve agreed with him and Scott couldn’t hide his excitement that the Captain America had liked his idea.

“He’s right, we can follow her the next time she goes out again, but we have to plan everything, we can start now that she´s not here, Scott, we will need your help in this, would you like to help?” Natasha looked straight into his eyes waiting for an answer.

“You scare me a lot, but I´m on it, this is so exciting, I want to know who y/n´s secret date is, is like trying to guess who´s your secret Santa, but with someone else´s relationship” Scott started to talk his excitement was visible.

“Yes right? I want to be part of this too” Peter told while looking at Tony

“I´m not sure, can you keep the secret?” Tony asked him with a serious look on his face

“I promise Mr. Stark I won´t say a thing about spying on y/n´s date, maybe we can put a name to this mission like-“

“Operation little widow? Little witch?” Scott interrupted and Peter´s eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows.

“What about operation Little Widow-witch?” Peter asked with a grin on his face.

“That sounds amazing, now that we have a name for this operation, we can start planning this” Lang leant on the table and he placed his elbows on the table and his chin on his hands.

“Alright but why did you name this Operation Little Widow-witch?” Natasha inquired and Wanda squinted her eyes to look at him with a curious expression.

“Isn´t it obvious? You treat Y/n like she´s your daughter, she´s always wandering around you two as if she was your daughter, also she has powers similar to Wanda´s, the only difference is that she still can´t read minds, also Nat you have trained her a lot, she knows everything about combat thanks to you, you´re like her daughter” Scott said as a matter of fact while shrugging, it was obvious for him.

Nat and Wanda smiled at each other when they heard this, he was right, the three of you acted like that, when they rescued you from Hydra agents when you were just thirteen, they got attached to you and you to them, you loved everyone, of course everyone was your family but you felt really attached to the two of them, Wanda and Nat had taken you under their wing, Wanda helped you to control your powers, you had improved a lot, but still there was a part of you that refused to read other people´s mind, you weren’t sure why you couldn’t do it, but Wanda was sure it was something deep inside you that wasn’t letting you, but she knew that with time and with her help and the help of her girlfriend Nat, you were going to be able to do it.

When Natasha saw you for the first time you looked so scared, they had experimented on you and they had treated you like you were nothing, you had trust issues and you were so scared to even look at them that it broke Natasha´s heart, she just wanted to protect you just like Wanda, when you used to have nightmares, and still from time to time you had them, but at the start you used to suffer alone, you didn’t let anyone near you, Natasha and Wanda tried to get closer to you, they wanted to help you, but you didn’t let them, until one day, when you had a nightmare and they were surprised when you knocked on their door and you told them how you felt, of course they let you in, and since that day you knew you were safe with them, you really loved them, they were your home.

Natasha and Wanda felt a little heartbroken because you used to tell them everything, you even told them when you started to like someone and you were not sure what to do, the two of them always tried to help you and they always supported you, they would never judge you and you knew that, and they couldn’t help but feel conflicted, they just wanted to make sure no one would hurt you.

“Alright let plan this, I just, I don´t want that she ends up hurt again” Wanda said and Natasha took her hand on hers, she caressed the back of her girlfriend´s hand with her thumb.

“We will make sure she doesn’t get hurt Wands” Natasha said to her with a loving look on her face

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You entered to the nice and beautiful coffee shop, you had to take a taxi to arrive faster, it was already late and you didn’t want to take more time by taking the bus.

Entering to the cozy place you saw your girlfriend sitting in one of the chairs that was behind a table next to the window, you quickly came to her and when she saw you Agatha´s face lit up.

“I´m sorry I´m this late, Nat, Wanda and Tony kept interrogating me about who I was coming to see” You said to your girlfriend with an apologetically look on your face, Agatha stood up from the chair to hug you and you hugged her back, she smelled your perfume and she loved it, you felt Agatha´s hand stroking your hair in a soft way, when you separated from her a little Agatha placed both of her hands on your waist and you gave her a soft peck on her lips, your hands were on her shoulders, you really loved her so much.

“It´s alright doll, you do not have to worry” Agatha reassured you and she took your hand to guide you to your seat; she pulled the chair out for you to sit and you smiled, Agatha was really attentive to you and you loved it, you sat in the chair and Agatha went to her seat in front of you, Agatha took your hand in hers and she started to caress the back of your hand with her thumb, you felt so happy with her, you really wished you could tell everyone you were her girlfriend, but you knew how everyone in the team was going to react, and you knew how Nat and Wanda would react, they would be so angry and you didn’t want that, you were conflicted on what do.

“What´s wrong doll?” You were distracted by her question and you saw the concerned look on her face, the moment you see her worried look you felt like crying.

“It´s alright my love, it´s alright” Agatha stood up from her seat and she came next to you, you moved a little to the right so that she could sit next to you, you felt her arm hugging you by your waist and she pulled you closer to her, she rested her free hand on your face and you instantly leant into her, you hid your face into the crook of her neck and you let the tears roll down your eyes, you couldn’t hold them anymore.

“It´s just that I don´t want to hide what we have, and I don´t want to keep lying to Nat and Wanda, and the others, I feel so bad for hiding, but, I don´t know what else to do, I know how they´re going to react if they know about us, and I don´t want to lose you” You sobbed into her neck and Agatha rubbed your back with her hand.

“I know doll, I know how you feel and you don´t know how much it hurts me to see you like this, this is my fault, for what I did in my past now you´re suffering, I don´t want to lose you either, you´re the best that happened to me, I just want you to be with me and I know that if your family finds out that you´re with me, they will be really mad, but sweetheart I don´t mind hiding with you, I love you and that won´t change, and the fact that we have to hide doesn’t bother me, you´re everything I need, I just wish I could make you feel better, I want to make you happy” You were really in love with her, you had fallen for her, but how couldn’t you? She was so sweet and kind to you, she always treated you with so much love and you loved it, you loved her. Agatha brought her hand to your face and she wiped your tears away.

“It´s not your fault, also you´ve changed, you´re not the same you used to be, I want to tell them, to tell them that you´ve changed, and that you make me really happy but” You paused thinking about your next words, the soft touch of Agatha on your face helped you to calm yourself, her touch was soothing.

“But you know they´re not going to believe you” Agatha finished your sentence in soft-spoken way and you nodded against her shoulder, she was right, you were sure they were not going to believe you and they were not going to trust you.

You sighed and moved yourself way from her a little to look at her face, she had a sad look on her face and you didn’t like it, you knew she felt guilty because of what she had done, but she wasn´t that person anymore, it was not her fault, in the past everybody was afraid of her and people had isolated her, she just wanted power because it was what it made her feel she was in control of everything, she was hurt and you knew now she regretted everything she had done, but she wasn’t that person anymore, and you knew she would never hurt you or your family, you completely love her, and you really didn’t want to lose what you two had, you were so in love with Agatha.

“I love you so much, and I wished everyone could see that you’re not the same person you used to be, you´re so much more than your past” Agatha smiled at you, she loved you so much, you were her entire life, you were her light, and the most important thing is that you saw her for who she really was, you didn’t care about her past mistakes, you understood her in a whole different way that no one had done it before, you were so amazing and you didn’t care for what she had done, Agatha knew you loved her no matter what, Agatha didn’t want to lose you.

“You don´t know how much I love you y/n, you mean the world to me, if hiding means that we get to keep our relationship, I will hide with you, no matter what my love, I love you so much” You felt so loved, she made you really happy, you just wanted this to last forever, she took your face in her hands and she pressed a kiss to your lips, it was a soft kiss, her lips moved against yours, her skin was so soft and you could smell her perfume all over her, it was a mix of vanilla and a cinnamon scent, you loved it, her breath was hot and you felt it against your skin, her hands romanced through your lower back until finally she placed them on your waist.

When you broke the kiss due to the lack of air, you smiled at her and she could see the loving expression on her eyes, her eyes were beaming with joy and you were sure yours too.

“Do you want to order now? I know we have little time to spend together, but I love having these dates with you, this coffee is so amazing, I´m so glad you took me here on our first date, is my favorite place now” You said to her while you caressed the skin of her neck.

“I love these dates too doll, I love the time we spend together, it doesn’t matter if we just get to spend little time, I enjoy it and I treasure every moment I pass with you, let´s order my love” Agatha said while she softly stroked your head with her right hand, you nodded and she pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.

The evening passed with you and Agatha sharing the slices of cake you had ordered, she had ordered a slice of cheesecake and you ordered your favorite one, between laughs and stories about your day and questions of what the other had done in the two days you didn’t see each other, you passed hours there.

“You want some more baby girl?” Agatha asked you pointing to her coffee on the table, you nodded and you took the mug and took a sip, it was really good, you loved that you and her shared what you ordered, it was something that you enjoyed doing with her, it reminded you that the little actions showed how much you loved each other.

A beeping sound distracted you from the special moment and you felt sad, it was your alarm what had sounded, you took your phone out and you saw the hour on the screen of your phone, it was 6:00 pm already, the three hours passed so quickly.

“It feels like we just passed one hour and a half together” You said with a sad look on your face.

“I know baby girl, it´s not enough but we can meet again whenever you want, you know that and we can keep texting or making phone calls, I love your voice, so I prefer phone calls” She reassured you, she was right, you could keep meeting in the next days, just like you´ve been doing for the past months.

“It´s pretty late doll, I will take you to your home” She asked for the bill to the waitress and then she gave the money to the young woman.

“But what if they see us?” You asked with a worried look on your face, you weren´t sure if they will be waiting for you or looking through the large windows waiting for the exact moment when you arrived.

“They won´t and I won´t let that you go alone at this hour, I don´t want anything to happen to you” Agatha saw you were going to argue back but she softly pressed a finger on your lips.

“I know that you can perfectly defend yourself baby girl, but I will feel better if I´m the one who takes you home, alright?” You smiled and you just nodded, you really loved her so much.

Agatha stood from her sit and she stretched her hand out for you to take it, you happily took her hand and you walked outside the coffee shop, she guided you to where she had parked her car and then she opened the door for you to enter.

“Thank you so much” You said to her while she held the door open for you and your girlfriend waited until you were sitting inside to close the door.

“Put the seatbelt on doll” You quickly nodded and you did what she told you to do, Agatha did the same and she smiled at you.

You wished the car ride would have been longer, but sadly it lasted just fifteen minutes, Agatha parked the car some blocks behind your home, the same spot she had parked last Monday, Agatha sighed and she turned her head to look at you, she took your hand in hers and you smiled at her.

“I will see you in two days alright?” Agatha asked you and you nodded.

“Can we meet again at the same coffee shop? I want to try the lemon cheesecake this time” Agatha giggled and she nodded

“Alright doll, at the same coffee shop I´ll see you, the same hour?” She asked you never dropping your hand.

“Yes, at the same hour” You smiled and gave her a last kiss, you didn’t want the kiss to end but you had to go, breaking the kiss you gave a last squeeze to Agatha´s hand and with that you opened the car door to get out of it, you waved your hand at her and gave her one last smile, you started to walk to your home and Agatha stayed there watching you, she didn’t leave until she was sure you had entered to the building, when she saw you had already entered she finally left, she was waiting to meet you again in two days.

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"Mr. Stark, Miss y/n has entered the building” Friday announced

“She has arrived! She will be entering at any moment” Yelled Peter while he started to panic, he took some papers in his hands from the table and he put them inside his backpack.

“Alright, alright everyone, act as if we weren’t planning something, I will go to the couch, someone turn the tv on!” Scott said while he went to throw himself in the couch, Peter ran after him and he did the same, he threw himself in the other couch and he turned the big tv on.

Wanda and Natasha just looked at each other with and amused expression on their faces, they clearly didn’t know how to hide something.

Tony just rolled his eyes and Steve shook his head; they just hoped you didn’t notice anything.

Steve walked to the fridge to take a bottle of cold water while Wanda and Natasha walked towards the living room and they sat side by side, Natasha passed her arm around Wanda’s shoulders and Wanda rested her head on Nat’s chest.

Peter put on a movie and they started to watch what played on the screen; They heard the door of the lift being opened letting them know that you had arrived.

You slowly walked out of the lift and you went to the kitchen to grab something to drink.

“I’m back” You announced a little shy, you hoped they wouldn’t bring the Agnes topic again.

“Oh, hey y/n we didn’t see you had just come” Peter’s voice came out a little too loud, you chuckled and didn’t mind him.

Steve was on the kitchen drinking some coffee and you went to the fridge to take a bottle of cold water.

“There’s still hot coffee in there if you want some kid” He told you pointing to the coffee machine

“Oh no thank you, I think had too much coffee” You said to him while you took out one bottle out from the fridge.

“Oh really? What type of coffee did you have?” Steve asked nonchalantly before taking a big sip of his coffee.

On the other side of the table was Tony reading a magazine acting as if he wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying.

“I had a cappuccino” You calmly answered before drinking some of your water.

“Great, cappuccinos are really great” Steve commented and you smiled at him, he was right.

“What are you watching?” You asked when you arrived at the living room.

“Oh, hi Scott, I didn’t know you were here” You smiled at the man when you noticed he was sitting in one of the couches.

“Hey y/n, I came here over an hour ago, but I think it will be better if I go now, Hope won’t like if I don’t arrive early, so, it would be better if I just leave, I can come back another day” He quickly stood from his place at the couch and you nodded at him.

“Bye Scott, say Hi to Hope and Cassie for me, would you?”

“Sure, maybe next time they’ll come with me, they miss you” You felt your heart melting at that, Hope’s a really cool and badass person, you really liked talking to her about different types of technology and Cassie always made you laugh with her jokes, she was so much like his father, the three of them were a really nice family.

“I miss them too” You answered and Scott smiled back at you, he said his good-byes at everyone after leaving.

“Do you want to sit here y/n?” Natasha asked you while patting the empty spot on the couch next to her.

“Of course” You nodded and she smiled at you, Natasha missed passing time with you, lately you were busy with homework and now you used to go out many times a week, she was proud of you, of the confident person you had grown to be, but she still missed to comfort you when you had a nightmare, Wanda felt the same, she missed you as well, she was happy that you felt good enough to hang out, but she missed when you would ask them if they wanted to go with you to buy something, they were really happy for you, but at the same time they were worried, they didn´t want that someone hurt you.

Natasha remembered that time of that girl that used to date you, that awful girl who just invited you out because she had wanted to know the black widow, she was obsessed with her and that girl had hurt you, it had broken her heart the look on your face when you told her she had just asked you out to see if you she could get near Natasha, you had cried for days.

Wanda read her girlfriend´s thoughts and she gave Nat a knowing look she used her powers to say to Natasha that they would do everything they could to protect you, Nat heard this in her mind and she nodded, you took sit next to Nat and she placed her arm around your shoulders, you rested your head on her shoulder, you missed passing time with them so this was recomforting, you really loved your family.

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Today was Sunday, two days after you had gone out and Wanda noticed you were preparing your backpack on your room, so she assumed you were going to go out again, she quickly told Natasha this and Natasha said to Tony that you were going out again, he quickly called Scott.

“Scott, Operation Little Widow-witch will take place today, can you come here now?” Asked Tony on the phone, he nodded and then he hung up.

“What did he say?” Natasha eagerly asked.

“He´s coming, we need to do something before y/n´s leaves the tower, where is she?” Tony asked with wide eyes, he just hoped you hadn’t left yet.

“Mr. Stark, y/n just entered to the lift” Peter said in a hurry

“Alright, alright I will make the engines stop, this can give us some time until Scott arrives”

Suddenly they heard a buzzing sound and then Scott appear out of thin air in front them.

“Wow, those flying ants are really fast” Scott was in his usual Ant-man suit

"Alright Scott so, you have everything you need?” Tony eyed him while he asked him

“Yes, I have the camera here, Hope did a great job with this, she also told me to give you this, with this thing you will be able to see what I’m seeing, and to hear what I’m hearing” Lang handed them a small screen and a mic

“The mic is for you to talk to me; I will be able to hear you” His excitement was visible.

“We will be watching everything from here, good luck Scott, and thank you” Wanda told him and he nodded

“She’s waiting inside the lift, go Scott” Tony said to him and Lang nodded again, he made himself small again, he called the flying ant back to take him to you, and when he was closer enough the lift, he jumped off the ant and entered to the lift through the gap under the metal door.

He saw you there standing in the middle of it waiting for the lift to start working again, he used one of his hooks to clip himself to your backpack, step one had been a success.

Meanwhile Natasha, Wanda, Tony and Steve were watching everything on the Screen they had, they weren’t waiting for anything to happen until the hear a ring, the recognized it was your phone, they couldn’t watch at all since Scott was hanging on your backpack, but they knew someone had called you, but they were eager to know what you´ll say.

“Hi! Yes, I´m already in the lift, so I will be arriving there in Fifteen minutes, yes, I will walk safely, love you too, see you there”

Everyone was shocked, have you told this person you loved them? They were right that you were not seeing just a friend.

You left the building and you walked through the streets, after minutes of walking you finally arrived at the coffee shop, there you saw Agatha’s car and walked past it, Scott who was hanging on your backpack, his camera on his suit focused a black car.

“That´s the car Bucky and I saw y/n stepping out of it last Monday” Steve commented while looking at the same car that had brought you days ago, Natasha would have liked to see the vehicle´s license plate number, but you walked closer and Scott was trying not to fall to the ground.

You walked faster and Scott didn’t get the time to hold your backpack stronger so he fell to the floor, the time he hit the floor he heard the sound glass breaking, that´s when he knew the camera had broken down.

“Scott, Scott we lost the image, are you alright?” Natasha quickly said to him into the microphone

“I know sorry about that and yes I´m alright, the fall wasn’t that bad” They heard the tiny man grunting

“Now Scott you will be our eyes and ears, tell us what you see” Steve told him after some minutes

"Got it captain” Scott replied

He quickly got up from the floor and he ran down towards some stairs that led to the coffee shop, he entered to the coffee shop through the gap under the floor.

“Alright so she entered to this Coffee Shop called Westview, that’s a cool name, wow guys it’s really cool here, the lamps are so pretty, it reminds me of that places that are announced in magazines where you can come here when you don’t want nobody to find you, this place is kind of hidden in the street, there were stairs to arrive here, guys oh my god, look at how many flowers are here, I hope there are no bees, wait I’ve never ridden a bee, change of plans I do Hope there are bees here”

Natasha rubbed her hands against her face and Wanda softly rubbed her arm trying to calm her down a little.

“Scott, please focus” Said Natasha and Steve at the same time

“Yes, sorry”

“Do you see y/n anywhere?” Wanda asked into the mic.

“No guys, I can’t see anything from this- Wait, I’m seeing her right now, she’s hugging someone, but I can’t see well, I’ll have to go there wait” Scott started to run right towards the table you were in.

“I’m tired guys, this is too much” Said Scott out of breath from running.

“Alright guys, I’m here, I’ll have to climb up the sit, this is too exciting, Guys I bet 50 dollars that’s her professor” Scott said

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“I’m really sorry, the lift stopped working for some minutes and I had to wait until it worked again, sorry for making you wait" You said to Agatha with a worried look on your face

“It’s alright doll, I’m glad you made it here, how’s everything at home?” She asked you while holding your hands

“Doll?” Scott muttered to himself, of course everyone who was in the compound listened what he said.

“Doll?” Everyone in the tower repeated, Natasha frowned and looked at Wanda, Steve, Tony and Peter exchanged confused stares.

“Scott what’s going on?” Wanda rushed to ask him

“Well, for what I heard, this woman calls y/n doll, and she asked her about how things are at home”

“Definitely that’s not Mrs. Dottie, she doesn’t call y/n like that” Commented Peter who was now more curious about this woman

“So, what exactly could have y/n told her about things here at home? That means that she Talks about us, right?” Wondered Tony while he put his hand to his chin.

“Guys shut up for a moment, there’s a lot of voices, I can’t hear what they’re talking about, I will climb up the table, to have a better look, wait” He told them while he tried to go up the table.

“Things are fine, Peter is staying for some days at the tower and it’s pretty cool, I like showing him many different new songs I discover, Wanda and Nat are alright too, we watched a movie the other day, I really love them, and I’m glad they haven’t asked anything about you, you know about where I go out, I really don’t like when I lie to them, it makes me feel bad, last time I told them I was going to meet 'Agnes’” You giggled a little remembering the name you had given.

“Agnes?” Agatha laughed at that.

“Yes, you known it’s sort of your name and your last name combined, kind of, I didn’t come up with something else, I panicked” you laughed at that

“It’s alright baby girl, that was smart, I’m glad they haven’t asked anything else” She said to you with a soft smile on her face.

Scott was hiding under the table in a crack on the wooden table with a shocked expression on his face and his hand was covering his mouth.

“Guys, you won’t believe this, the name 'Agnes’ she told you isn’t a real name” He said with wide eyes

“Oh my god, I knew it!” said Natasha closing her eyes

“Scott, quickly you need to see who’s there with y/n” Wanda said into the microphone.

“Yes, yes, I’m on that wait a little” Scott started to walk through the metal bars of the table ready to jump onto the table,

"Are you alright doll? You know you can tell me everything” She brought one of your hands to her lips and she kissed the back of it.

“I know, it’s just that I really love spending time with you and just like the other day I told you, I feel awful about, I feel awful that we have to hide, I really wish you could come with me to the tower, I want that they get to know the real you, I want to be able to tell Nat and Wanda how much you make me happy, I want to tell ask them many things about a relationship I want to, but I know I can’t” You said closing your eyes

“It’s alright baby girl, I understand everything, You don’t have to feel guilty, I know that they’re not going to take this well, and I can’t blame them, After what I did, it’s understandable they wouldn’t trust me, and yes I don’t like at all that I have to hide your my girlfriend, I love you so much and I would love to take you to many different places, I would love to do many things with you, but I know we can’t, and if that means-”

“If that means we can keep seeing each other it’s alright” You finished her sentence

After listening that Scott felt a little guilty for spying on you, but this was not the time to back off, he thought, he had a mission to accomplish; Scott arrived at the top of the table and his sight was being covered by a mug.

“Oh, c'mon” Said Scott lifting his hands in the air.

“What’s going?” Tony tasked him.

“There was a mug covering the sight, but now I’m able to-”

Scott gasped and everyone there started to panic, have you noticed him? What if you have noticed this.

“Scott what’s going on?” Steve asked with a worried tone.

“Lang? Lang? Are you there?” Natasha asked taking the mic into her hands

“Mr. Lang?* Asked Peter coming next to Natasha.

"Scott what the hell happened?” Tony came rushing to Peter’s side

“Scott this is not the time for games, this is important” Wanda quickly came next to Natasha’s side.

“SHHHHHH! Everybody shut up” Scott hissed after some seconds and everyone felt silent, it felt like hours but it had just happened two minutes

“Promise, you won’t freak out” He asked them into his microphone.

“What is it Lang” Wanda’s accent was thick; she was clearly annoyed.

“Guys you have to promise you won’t freak out” The tiny man asked again, Natasha was clearly annoyed and she was about to say something back to him, but Peter took the mic from her hands.

“I’m sorry Miss Romanoff” Peter whispered

“We promise we won’t freak out" Said Peter to Scott

“Alright, alright, here we go” Scott took a deep breath and he blinked several times

“You remember that witch who tried to take Wanda’s powers three years ago?”

Scott had to take the earphone out of his ear because a sharp sound hit him, it was too loud as if something had shattered against the floor, when he put it back into his ear, he didn’t hear anything for minutes, everything was silent.

“Um, guys? Hello? Did my microphone break? What’s wrong with this thing?” He decided to sat at in the plate under the mug, and he started to check his Equipment.

A loud crash made you jump a little in your seat.

“y/n!?” You knew that voice, you knew very well that voice, your eyes went wide open, Natasha’s voice was clearly worried but you were sure she was really mad as well.

How did they find you? This was wrong, this was what you tried to avoid for the past months, this was all wrong, you knew they would come for Agatha so you quickly stood up from your seat and placed yourself next to Agatha.

You saw a really angry Natasha with her black suit on, Wanda was clearly mad too, her eyes and hands were glowing red, Steve was on his Captain America suit just as well as Tony was in his Iron man suit, they were all coming towards the two of you.

“Y/n, come here, stay away from her” Wanda told you when she was close enough to you, her accent was really strong, you knew she was really, really mad, her eyes glowing red and Natasha was next to her with her hand on her hip, she was ready to take her gun out at any moment.

“No” You firmly said but, on the inside, you were shaking, you were terrified, you didn’t want them to hurt Agatha.

“What do you mean no?” Natasha frowned, oh she looked so annoyed.

“It means I’m staying here with her” You said with a lot of courage

“It��s alright doll you don’t need to-”

“Don’t ever call her like that again!” You heard Wanda saying to her

“Don’t hurt her, she’s done nothing wrong” You quickly said back to Wanda

“She’s evil, don’t you know what she did years ago?” Natasha argued and her hands squeezed into fists.

“She has changed! She’s not like that anymore” You huffed, running your hand through your hair.

“She’s manipulating you, I bet she just wants your powers” Wanda raised her chin

“That´s not true! I really love y/n” Said Agatha standing from her sit, she was not going to sit there just listening to them doubting her love for you.

“That’s not true!” Said Natasha coming closer to you, you were afraid of what could happen, you didn’t want Agatha and them getting into a fight.

“She tried to steal my powers, how are we not sure she wants to do the same to you y/n?” Wanda asked coming closer too.

“That was different, back at that time you didn’t even know how to control your powers, I just suggested you to give them to me, a more experienced witch” Agatha said back

“Agatha that´s not helping!” You yelled at her, you couldn’t believe it what she had just said, it was definitely not the right moment for that talk.

“I´m sorry, I´m sorry, but she´s right I´m not the same I used to be, I´ve changed and I truly love y/n, I would never do anything to hurt her” Agatha took your hand in hers giving it a soft squeeze.

“We can´t trust you” Steve grunted.

“They´re right, we can´t really trust you, so you better back off” Tony snapped while walking closer.

“How did you even find me?” You questioned them and, in that moment, Scott appeared out of nowhere in the sit in front of you.

“Scott? You followed me?” You didn’t believe it

“I´m sorry y/n” He said with a shy smile, and you saw in his hands were some earbuds, you were sure it was an intercom.

“Were you spying on me?” You felt betrayed, they have been overhearing everything.

“We did it because we wanted to be sure who you were seeing, we just don´t want that you get your heart broken!” Natasha said to you

“I think It would have been better if you had been seeing your English teacher and not her” You heard Ant-man saying pointing at your girlfriend.

“Mrs. Dottie?” You asked with a frown, why was he talking about her, more like, how did he know your English teacher.

“What is he talking about sweetheart?” Agatha asked you and she was about to put her hand on your shoulder.

“Don´t you dare touch her, I won´t say it again Agatha, back off” Wanda said her hands up in the air, you didn’t want them to fight.

“Agatha, it would be better If you leave, I´m really sorry about this, I didn’t want this to happen, but I don’t want that all of you get into a fight, please, I don´t want things to get worse, I love you”

You whispered to her, Agatha didn’t want to leave you alone, but you were right, If she stayed for now, things could get really messy.

“Alright love, you know I´ll never lose you, I will fight for you, don´t forget that I love you” You had wanted to kiss her, but you decided it wouldn’t be a good idea, you nodded and with a flick of her hand she disappeared into purple smoke.

Wanda and Natasha were glaring at you, Tony and Steve were had disappointed look on their faces and Scott, well he was sitting there eating some of the cookies on the white plate.

“I- I will see you back at the tower” You moved your hand and you disappeared.

You appeared back at the tower and you quickly took your phone out of your pocket to dial Agatha´s number.

“-Agatha, I´m so sorry, I- I didn’t know they were following us, I don´t know what they will do, I´m sure they will tell me to stop seeing you, but I don´t want that, I love you and-“

-It´s alright baby girl, try to calm down a little so you can talk to them, you do not have to worry, as I told you, I will fight for you, I love you y/n- You heard noises outside the room and you knew they had arrived.

-They´re here I have to hang up, but I love you too- You quickly hung up and you heard a rushed knock on your door.

"Y/n can you come here please? We’re worried” You heard Natasha’s voice behind your door.

You weren’t sure if you should open the door or not, but after minutes of thinking you decided to open the door; You did it slowly and when you fully opened the door, only Natasha and Wanda came into your room, the others waited in the living room.

You went to your bed to sat down and Natasha and Wanda sat by your sides, the three of you sat there in complete silence, Wanda was looking at the floor, Natasha was looking at you and you just simply stared at your fingers.

“She’s evil” Wanda suddenly said after minutes of complete silence

“That’s not true, she’s changed” You quickly said back at her, turning your head to face her.

“How are you so sure?” Wanda asked with an angry look on her face, her frustration kicked in.

“Because I know her, she’s changed, Agatha’s not the same she used to be” You said with tears in your eyes.

“I don’t trust her” Wanda said again

“I know, but you have to trust me, she’s different” You were almost pleading at this point, you looked at her right into her eyes and you could see the anger in her eyes.

“Where did you meet her?” Asked Natasha after some minutes of silence

“I met her at a bookstore, I kept coming back to the same bookstore and I always found her there, we hit it off and well, we started to see each other as friends at first, as I wasn’t sure, but I really felt drawn to her” You smiled at the memory of the first time you met her.

"She’s Centuries older than you" Wanda hissed and this time you didn’t know what to say to her.

“You can’t keep seeing her” Wanda told you with a harsh tone, and you freaked out.

“What!? You can’t tell me who I can and I cannot see!” You rushed to say while you stood up from your bed and glared at Wanda.

“I can, because I know this is the best for you, she’s evil” You were going to say something but Natasha was faster

“Wanda’s right, this is the best for you, we can’t trust her” You had tears falling down your eyes and you wiped them away with your sleeve, you couldn’t believe this.

“This is not fair, I’m an adult, I can decide who I want to date” You were moving your hands in the air.

“You may be an adult but you clearly don’t know how to even take care of yourself, this is not up for you to decide, you can be in danger, you could have put us in danger y/n” Wanda said almost yelling.

“So, this is about you? What about me? She’s not the same, how many times do I have to tell you? She’s-

"Enough! We just want to keep you safe! Can’t you see that? She’s not good for you! What if she’s manipulating you? Your powers are really strong and you don’t know what you’re capable of, what if she’s just taking this chance to take them away from you?” Wanda had never yelled at you, you were sure Agatha wouldn’t do that, why couldn’t they just see that?

“This stays with me” Said Wanda and you frowned you didn’t understand her until she moved her hand and your phone appeared in her hand.

“Give it back to me, that’s mine” You came closer to her but Wanda used her powers to stop you.

“No, you will keep talking to her, and I won’t let that happen” Wanda argued

“This is not fair” You heart was breaking

“No, what’s not fair is that you put yourself in danger and you also could’ve put ourselves on danger” Wanda said with a really angry look, you looked at Natasha and she just shrugged.

“I’m sorry y/n but Wanda’s right“ Natasha looked apologetically.

"I will drive you to college and I will pick you up” Wanda said to you and they stood up from your bed to walk outside your bedroom.

Natasha hated to see you like this, with a heartbroken expression, they had never discussed with you and that mortified her.

“Wanda, don’t you think that was a little harsh, she was really upset” Said Natasha with a worried expression on her face

“I know it was harsh, but we don’t know Agatha’s real intentions, I don’t want her near y/n, I feel awful for speaking to y/n like this but, I really don’t want her to end up hurt, what if Agatha kidnaps her or something! I wouldn’t forgive myself if something like that happens Nat” Wanda hugged Natasha and the shorter woman rest her head on her chest.

“I don’t want that something happens to y/n I love her just like you, and I want to protect her too, but I just can’t stand seeing her like this, I wanted to hug her” Tears started to fall down Nat’s cheeks and Wanda quickly wiped them away.

“I know, I feel really awful but, I really want to protect her from her, I want to hug her too but, we can do it later alright? She can’t be mad at us forever.”

You couldn’t believe it! They had taken your phone with them, how were you supposed to talk to your girlfriend? You were frustrated, you were angry, but you felt sad too, they hadn’t been fair to you or to Agatha but you understood why they weren’t keen on her, but why couldn’t they trust you? You needed a hug and you felt angrier because you wanted Agatha, Nat or Wanda to hug you, the first one you couldn’t hug her for obvious reasons, and the other two, you were angry at them, you just threw yourself in your bed and covered yourself with your blankets

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"It’s been six days; six days and she hasn’t talked to us Wanda!” Natasha had picked you up from college and all the ride back to the tower you didn’t talk to her, you just looked through the window.

“I know Nat, but what else can we do? She hasn’t talked to me yet; I’ve been trying to talk to her all week and she ignores me too”

“She hasn’t talked to me either” Commented Steve entering the kitchen, he was worried about you just like everyone else.

“I tried to approach her two days ago and she just stared at me with a blank expression and then just she left” Tony said with a drink in his hand.

“Also Peter told me that she doesn’t even talk at all during lectures anymore, he told me that Mrs. Dottie asked him if there was something going on with her” Tony said again, Natasha and Wanda were concerned, they weren’t expecting this, but what scared them the most was that you looked paler each day and you looked as if you hadn’t sleep at all.

“We have to fix this; I know is my fault but-” Wanda was cut off by someone

“Is not only your fault, we all agreed on this” Said Steve, but Wanda couldn’t help but blame herself.

“It’s alright, we will fix this” Natasha said while caressing her cheek with her hand.

Wanda felt something vibrating in her pocket and she took your phone out of it, she saw a new message out of 50 messages and 45 missed calls, Wanda was surprised to see that.

“Agatha keeps sending messages to y/n and she keeps calling” She said putting the phone on the table.

“Let me see” Natasha took the phone in her hands and she quickly unlocked it, without the fingerprint.

“How did you do that?” Steve was astonished when he saw how Nat unlocked your phone without using the password or a fingerprint.

“Basic hacking skills” Natasha quickly answered and Tony smirked at Steve’s shocked face.

“You wouldn’t get it” Tony said to Steve and Wanda and Nat giggled at his comment.

“What does the messages say?” Steve was curious at what could Agatha send you.

“Well, there’s a lot of 'How are you feeling?’ 'Are you alright doll?” 'Why aren’t you answering the phone? I’m really worried about you’ “ Natasha told them and she felt bad, what if Agatha was really concerned about you?

"What if she’s really not bad anymore?” Bruce asked while leaning against the doorframe, he really saw how much you had been affected for what had happened, every one of the others noticed how much you’ve changed, the others were really worried, you didn’t go to the lab to ask Bruce things about science or have a really nice conversation about theories, you hadn’t gone to the library to pick books to recommend to Bucky anymore and the two of them decided to ask Natasha and Wanda what was going on with you since the two women were the ones who you were always with, so Wanda and Nat explained to them what had happened days ago.

Wanda didn’t know what to do, she couldn’t see you like this, but she also didn’t want to trust Agatha.

They stayed there thinking on what to do until Scott arrived one hour later, he seemed to be in a rush, because when the doors of the lift opened, he quickly came looking for them.

“Guys, guys I had to run to arrive faster here, Hope took the suit away and she hid it, but that’s not important here, I came here because I remembered that my intercom recorded everything” He said out breath

Scott took the device out of his jacket and he pressed play, they didn’t make any type of sound, and payed attention to the recording.

“Are you alright doll? You know you can tell me everything” That was clearly Agatha’s voice.

“ I know, it’s just that I really love spending time with you and just like the other day I told you, I feel awful about, I feel awful that we have to hide, I really wish you could come with me to the tower, I want that they get to know the real you, I want to be able to tell Nat and Wanda how much you make me happy, I want to tell ask them many things about a relationship I want to, but I know I can’t” Nat had to wipe some tears that had fallen down her eyes when she heard your voice.

“If that means we can keep seeing each other it’s alright” When Wanda heard you had finished her sentence, she remembered every time she had done the same with Nat.

“We will fix this, Tony can you drive y/n tomorrow morning?” Natasha asked with a serious look on her face

“Sure, no problem” He answered

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The next day when Tony drove you to school, you still felt hurt, you really had wanted to say goodbye to Wanda and Nat, and everyone else but in the end you didn’t, you still felt betrayed.

“Alright, are you ready?” Natasha asked Wanda who was holding your phone in her hand, Wanda nodded and she called Agatha from your phone.

“Hello Agatha, listen, can you come to the tower? We would like to talk to you about y/n”

Natasha looked expectant to her when she ended the call.

“What did she say?” Natasha eagerly asked while she took Wanda softly by her shoulders.

“She said she will be coming in thirty minutes”

“Alright"

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Agatha was worried, these six days without being able to talk to you had been pure torture to her, she had wanted to hold you so much and reassure you that everything would be alright, she even went to your college to wait for you when your classes were over, she had been excited when she saw you walking outside the building but her hopes were crushed down when she saw a car parking in front of you, she recognized Wanda inside of it and she knew, she couldn’t get closer, she really wanted to but you were under constant surveillance.

But now that she had received Wanda’s call she didn’t think twice, she quickly agreed to meet her at the tower, maybe she could talk to them and convince them that she really loved you

Agatha walked out of the lift and was greeted by many pair of eyes on her.

She walked to the living room where everybody was sitting in the couches, Agatha knew the name of everyone because you used to talk about them a lot and she was happy that you trusted her enough to share a lot of things with her.

Wanda was frowning and beside her was Natasha with a serious look on her face, Tony was sitting in the other couch with a drink in his hand, the man who rarely smile, your words not hers, was Bucky if she recalled correctly, Steve was sitting next to the soldier with his arms crossed and he was glaring at her.

"Come sit with us” Said Wanda to Agatha when she lifted her head, Agatha nodded and she came closer to them, Natasha patted in the chair in front of them so that Agatha sat there.

“What are your intentions with y/n?” Asked Wanda glaring at Agatha

“I want to make her happy” The blue-eyed witch said calmly

“I don’t trust you!” Wanda said when Agatha finished her sentence, Agatha was shocked she hadn’t even talked a lot and Wanda was already really upset.

“I’m really sorry about what I did, I just wanted more power and you didn’t even know how to use your magic I-

"Now you better stop right there!-” Wanda was really upset that she even stood up from the couch pointing at Agatha with her finger, Wanda had to take her from her waist to stop her from coming closer to Agatha.

“I’m sorry alright!? I’m truly sorry, but I’m not that person anymore, and I understand why all of you are angry, You want to protect her from me, and that’s completely understandable, but I really love her, I don’t want to be without her, I care for y/n just as you care for her, she’s my life, she means everything to me, please, I’m saying the truth” Agatha begged

“You can use your powers on me to see that I’m not lying” Agatha offered

Wanda thought about it for a moment and she decided she would do it, Wanda placed her fingers over Agatha’s temple and she saw her memories, she was able to feel what the older witch felt, and the only thing she found in Agatha’s mind related to you was pure love, Wanda realized that the witch wasn’t lying, she really loved you, but still she had her doubts.

“What is y/n’s Favorite drink?” Asked Wanda

"What is y/n y/n’s favorite dessert?” Natasha demanded to know

"What is y/ns favorite book?” Bucky was the third one to ask something

"What is y/n favorite movie?” Steve added

“What is y/ns favorite restaurant?” Tony inquired with a serious look on his face

Agatha answered every question correctly and in the calmest possible way, she knew all of these things because you had told her, everyone one of the avengers were impressed, they weren’t expecting that the woman in front of them would know all of that information about you.

"Please, I swear I love y/n with all my heart, and I know I made some mistakes, but I changed, and I would never hurt y/n”

Wanda was pouting, there was really no doubt that she loved you.

“At this point I’m pretty sure she’s not lying love” Natasha whispered in her ear and Wanda just scrunched her nose.

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“Hey, why hasn’t any one of you picked your phone? I called you several times from Peter’s phone because classes were cancelled due to-”

You stopped death in your tracks, Agatha was sitting in a chair in the middle of the living room with the others.

You couldn’t believe it, what was she doing here?

“Agatha?” You saw how Agatha slowly nodded and she stood up from her chair to walk towards you.

You left your backpack on the floor and threw yourself at her arms.

She put her arms around your waist, her grip was firm yet soft at the same time, you could smell her perfume, the same one you had missed so much all these days.

Tears were falling from her eyes and you softly took her face in your hands, caressing her soft skin with your fingers.

“You don’t know how much I’ve missed you doll, I couldn’t even sleep well, I was tempted to use my magic to appear here, but I knew everyone would be around you since the first day I went to look for you at your college and I saw Wanda picking you up, I didn’t do it either because I didn’t want things to get worse” You softly wiped some of her tears away with your fingers and she leant into your touch, she had missed you so much.

“I couldn’t sleep either, I wanted to know how you were feeling, but I couldn’t even call you nor text you, I was desperate" You sobbed.

“Oh angel, I was desperate too” Your girlfriend pulled you closer to her, feeling your body against her made her feel relieved, she was holding you again, you were alright and that was the most important thing to her, resting your head on the crook of her neck she softly pressed a kiss on your hair.

The Avengers were looking at you, they were astonished, that would have never expected the older witch to treat you in such a beautiful way.

Wanda sensed what you and Agatha were feeling, it was love, and it was strong, really strong, beautiful emotions were emanating from you and the woman hugging you, you two really loved each other in a way, Natasha and her loved each other, it was a pure love.

Wanda took Natasha’s hand in hers and the two of them nodded at each other, walking closer towards you Wanda softly cleared her voice, and the sound made you move away a little from your girlfriend, you shyly looked at Nat and Wanda in front of you

“Listen, I´m sorry about what happened, I know we- I know I hurt you, but please I just wanted to protect you, I don´t trust her at all, but I can see that she really loves you just as much as you love her” Wanda quietly apologized, Agatha smiled at you and she separated herself from you a little, she turned herself to face Natasha and Wanda, with her arm around your waist, you were beside her and she loved the feeling of touching you in front of more people.

“I understand, and I know y/n understands that too, I know you don´t trust me for what I did, but I´m willing to prove myself so that you know I would do anything for y/n” You were smiling, finally they were having a calm conversation and they weren’t yelling at each other.

“You don´t need to be sorry, I understand that you wanted the best for me, and you did what you thought it would be the best for me, I wasn’t mad at you, I just felt betrayed because you didn’t trust me, but now I feel relieved, I missed you, I love you so much and not having you either, made me feel awful, I wanted to hug you too, but I didn’t want to come to you” You quickly wiped the tears away that had fallen down your eyes.

“I wanted to hug you too sweetheart, I was heartbroken, I couldn’t stand seeing you so sad, and I wanted to talk to you but you didn’t let me” Natasha quickly pulled you into a hug and you leant into her, you had really missed her a lot, when she pulled away, Wanda hugged you too, you closed your eyes and rested your head on her chest, you felt a soft kiss being placed in your forehead and you smiled.

“I missed you too Wanda, a lot, I hated that we fought and I hope we never fight like this again” You whispered into her chest.

“I assure you, we won´t, I hated the way I yelled at you I-“

“It´s alright, seriously Wanda, I forgave all of you, because you didn’t hurt me on purpose” You interrupted her and Wanda smiled, it was really good to hug you again.

“Don´t think we won´t have an eye on you anyone Agatha” Wanda began again

“Wanda” You said with a tired tone

“What?” The witch asked you with fake innocence and you felt a soft hand on your shoulder

“It´s alright doll, it´s alright, they can keep an eye on me, it doesn’t bother me” Your girlfriend said softly.

“We´re sorry too, about what happened” This time Steve was the one talking and Agatha nodded, she knew they weren’t bad, they just wanted the best for you, the men sitting in the couches gave her a shy smile, and she returned the smile at them.

“So, that means she can come to visit me?” You eagerly asked, Wanda and Nat looked at each other, and you patiently waited for an answer.

“Yes, she can come to visit you, and you can visit her, but Wanda and I will be the ones to drive you, alright?” Your eyes were beaming with joy, this is what you had wanted and finally they were accepting it, you nodded and turned your face to look at Agatha, she loved to see you this happy, Natasha and Wanda were happy to see you back, with that smile you always offered to everyone.

“Can I show her the tower?” You asked Natasha and Wanda again, and they sighed, they couldn’t say no to you, so they just nodded at you.

“If you show her your room, I want the doors open alright?” Wanda asked and you laughed, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes a little.

“Yes, yes I will let the doors open” You said to them and you took Agatha´s hand to guide her to your room, when you arrived to your room, you didn’t close the doors at all, sitting in your bed you patted your hand on your bed next to you, Agatha sat beside you and she passed her arm around your waist, you let your head rest on her shoulder taking her free hand on yours.

“This is great, now we can spend more time together and you can come here” Your excitement was visible and Agatha loved it.

“I know love, it was awful not being able to hold you during these days, I kept calling on your phone and as you didn’t answer, I thought the worst, that´s why I decided to go to your college” Agatha´s heart ached at the memory.

"That’s because Wanda took my phone away, I will ask her to give me my phone back later, I want to cuddle with you, what do you think?” You murmured into her ear.

"That’s an amazing idea doll, I want to hold you tightly” She whispered back into your ear.

Agatha and you kissed you again for the first time in days, her hand squeezing softly your waist, she had missed your lips so much.

You broke the kiss only to dragged her to the center of your bed, taking off your shoes she did the same, you took the covers and put them over the two of you when you were already lying in the middle of you comfortable bed.

You placed your head on her chest and she held you by your waist, you were going to pass a really nice evening holding each other.

“I have a question; how did you arrive here?” Now that you thought about it, you felt curious, you lifted your head to look at her beautiful blue eyes.

“Well, Wanda called me from your phone, I thought it was you, but then I heard her voice asking me to come here to talk about you” You chuckled a little and just shook your head.

“Do you want to sleep doll?” Agatha asked knowing you hadn’t rest at all.

“I want to, but I also want to spend more time with you while I´m awake” You yawned a little.

“It´s alright baby girl, I will be here when you wake up, we will have more time to spend together from now on” You knew she was right, now you wouldn’t have to hide anymore, and you love the thought.

“Alright, can you wake me up in 1 hour?” You tiredly said while resting your head back again into her chest.

“Of course, doll” She wasn’t going to wake you up in an hour, she was sure you needed more time to sleep, she pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I love you y/n” Agatha whispered in your ear.

“I love you too Agatha” You said yawning again.

You really loved that she was going to be there when you woke up.

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“Where´s y/n? We need to tell her everything that happened in our mission, she´s not going to believe what happened” Said Sam entering the living room with Clint by his side.

“I think you will have to wait some hours, she´s in her room with her girlfriend” Steve commented.

“What?” Clint and Sam asked at the same time.

“I´ll let Nat and Wanda explain that to you, a lot of things happened while you were on the mission” Sam and Clint blinked several times.

“Alright, we will tell you everything, it´s kind of a long story so you better take a sit” Natasha said and she took a deep breath.

The evening was going to be full of gasps and mane questions, Wanda quickly went to your room to open the door a little bit more and what she saw made her heart melt, you were sleeping peacefully and Agatha was stroking your hair, she let the door a little open and went back to the kitchen.

“Is she alright?” Asked Natasha to her

“She´s sleeping, she hadn’t slept well, now she´s resting next to Agatha” A smile formed on Natasha´s face, now she was sure you had another person who would protect you just like everyone of them.

It would take some time for Wanda to be able not to be too harsh on the older witch, but she knew you were in good hands, and she was grateful at least that there was another witch who would look out for you.

534 notes · View notes

catscidr · 3 months ago

Text

// the fatui's alcohol tolerance and drinking habits //

i. note — after writing this post i started thinking about how the other harbingers would tolerate alcohol and then.... but this is also because of a lovely commenter on ao3, thank u pookie for enabling me ♡ ii. includes — all of the harbingers + pierro and the tsaritsa. gn!reader iii. cw — not proofread, alcohol, various fuckery and headcanons. crack. that's it iv. wc — 1,2k

丑角/Pierro, The director.

-> tolerance: 8/10, high. -> habits: has an entire wine cellar in the zapolyarny palace and owns a vineyard southern of snezhnaya. one of his hobbies consist of wine-testing; he’s the kind of person to cleanse his palate with a small sip that he swooshes in his mouth, then swirls his glass to observe the coat, sniffs the wine, takes another sip- you get it. if you asked, he would recommend you a wine based on your taste. you want something sweet but not dry? try dessert wines. want something a little more on the bitter side? get yourself a malbec from argentina.

he hates anything that isn’t wine. don’t even try to give him a beer, he’ll look down at you with the most vicious glare you’ll feel sorry for being born.

队长 /Il Capitano, The first.

-> tolerance: 10/10, very high. -> habits: doesn’t see the point of drinking so he never has a glass in his hands from his own volition. if he’s drinking it’s either because some coworkers managed to get him to come out for drinks, because he caught one of his agents drinking on the job and decided to have a drink as well, or because you convinced him to drink with you.

his drink of choice is literally just any hard liquor, he doesn’t really care for taste. everyone is under the impression that he can’t get drunk, but some people just take it as an invitation to try to get him shitfaced (it never works out).

博士/Il Dottore, The second.

-> tolerance: 3/10, very low. -> habits: never drinks and doesn’t see the point in it anyways, because it’ll only hinder his cognitive functions (you tried convincing him that he can get different perspectives that way. you were swiftly rewarded with a flick on the forehead). on top of that, he just can’t really handle alcohol so why purposely leave himself vulnerable like that. he didn’t care enough to give himself a higher tolerance for it when he modified his body, apparently. would probably be the designated driver if he went out to a bar (if he were invited in the first place. if he accepted the invitation, second.)

the kind of person to get weirdly tipsy after two white claws.

少女/Columbina, The third.

-> tolerance: ?/10. What. -> habits: o̴̻̒f̴̭͋f̵̣͝ė̵͎r̴̻̄ĭ̵̙ñ̶̥g̸͙͋ ̵̦͆ḫ̸̏e̷̺̊r̶̳̈́ ̴͖̓ä̷͖ ̷͓͆d̴̜̆r̴̡̄i̷̪͝n̵͕͂k̵̠̄ ̴͈̈́ŵ̵̭ȉ̶̺l̸̩̃l̵̲̈́ ̵͖͝ö̸̪n̸̘͝l̸̺̈ỹ̷̹ ̴͑͜ṡ̸̞p̵̪͆e̶͈̊l̵͈͌l̶̜͗ ̵̣̌y̵̢͒ŏ̴͔u̴̹͐ŗ̶̀ ̶͎̈d̶̥͑ö̷̧o̶͓̕m̵̘̃.̷̡̽ ̵͙̐ý̴̟o̸̻͝u̵̳͘ ̶̙́s̴̠̿h̶̡͋a̴̫͊l̶̮̾l̷̳̃ ̷͓͝n̶͕͝o̶̢̓ț̵̏ ̶̞͋w̷̹͝i̶̦̚ṫ̴̪n̸̖̉e̶̢͝s̸̝̕s̸͉͒ ̵̗̈́h̸͜͝ě̵̝r̷͙̉ ̶̭̃h̵͍͒o̶̠̅l̸̗͂i̴̞̕n̷͚̓ẽ̴͙s̵̙̀s̵̖̄ ̷̟͐ć̵͈ó̴̭n̴̙̾s̶̠͋ũ̷̙m̷̬̈́ì̷ͅn̶̯͛g̸̯̔ ̴̨͝t̶͙̕h̴̢͝e̵͔̋ ̵̖̀d̵̖͛ë̷͖́v̵̯͂ii̵͖̿q̵̯̽ŭ̴̺o̶͖̔r̵̠̒.̶̺͒ ̵̙͘l̵͑͜e̸̖͗a̷̞͝v̷̉ͅe̵̮̕ ̸̦̎h̸̩̎e̴̪̐r̸̰̀ ̷̩͠b̷̛̥ĕ̸ͅ ̸̪͒e̴̜͂l̸͖̄s̴͖̆ẽ̷̝ ̸̘͘y̸̹̋ô̴̺ṷ̷̓r̸̭̈́ ̸̜̅l̶͖̾i̵͇͘f̵͉̔e̵̜̚s̷̖̏p̴̫̈́ä̷̬́n̷͔͌ ̴̰̑w̵͝ͅȋ̶̫l̶̛̯ḷ̸͒ ̸̡̊s̷̹͠h̶̭͋o̶̹͆r̵̮͂t̵̥̽é̴̡ṉ̷͌ ̶͕̑ĉ̸̰ǫ̶̈́n̶̔͜s̸̺̃i̷͌͜d̸͚̂e̵̺͊r̸̺̄ą̸̆b̷̲͘ḻ̸̎y̶̠͂.̴̣̉

in her free time, she likes to practice her bartending skills, like making fresh piña coladas!

仆人/Arlecchino, The fourth.

-> tolerance: 8/10, high. -> habits: likes to unwind with a glass of wine in her office while overlooking a multitude of paperwork. never drinks enough to get tipsy, but she could if she were surrounded by the right company...? if she wanted to, she could probably enter a drinking competition and win, though. whatever that means

has let some children of the house of the hearth try wine. finds the grimaces they pull after a sip very amusing

公鸡/Pulcinella, The fifth.

-> tolerance: 6/10, moderate. -> habits: the kind of man to drink wine with his meals, but he won’t have more than one and a half—two if he’s feeling particularly pent up. his tolerance isn’t that good because of his weight, unsurprisingly. he doesn’t get invited to go out for drinks because he always ends up indulging just a bit too much. he then acts like a disappointed dad to everyone in the vicinity.

0/10 don’t bring him to a bar unless you want to be scolded for breathing.

国崩/Scaramouche, The sixth.

-> tolerance: 4/10, low. -> habits: hates alcohol but is weirdly competitive when it comes to it, if he’s with the right people. sort of. although alcohol doesn’t affect him in the same way it does regular people, it still makes him feel gross enough to not want to be near it. if he had to pick a drink it would be something like an aperol spritz. he’d wait like thirty minutes before drinking it, letting the bubbles fizz out a bit. hates the “taste” of carbonation with a passion.

don’t even try to get him to try give him a beer, he’ll turn it into a molotov cocktail

木偶/Sandrone, The seventh.

-> tolerance: 4/10, low. -> habits: similar to il dottore, she hates drinking because it impairs her genius mind, but she’ll go out if only to make fun of drunk people (it rarely ever happens anyways). if she’s stuck with a drink in her hands for some reason, she’ll make the dapper ruin guard that’s at her side dispose of it for her.

will it literally throw it away or will it dispose of it in a less destructive way? don’t stick around to find out.

淑女/La Signora, The eighth.

-> tolerance: 8/10, high. -> habits: similar to arlecchino, she enjoys a good red wine occasionally. the only difference is that she needs to have it while bathing in the most expensive bath salts accompanied by so many candles it would be a hazard for her lungs. the queen of being a diva, has perfected the art of swirling wine in a glass while listening to jazzy music.

absolutely adores dandelion wine; she always buys crates upon crates despite the ridiculous import fees. has one from so long ago you’re surprised the bottle hasn’t disintegrated yet—the name Rostam is engraved into it.

富人/Pantalone, The ninth.

-> tolerance: 7/10, moderate. -> habits: probably the only normal one out of the bunch (which says a lot). whenever he drinks he always ends up tipsy, and when he’s tipsy, that façade he wears crumbles at the speed of light. gone are the strained fake smiles for politeness’ sake, in are the loud, angry rants about annoying clients. he won’t stop until his voice starts straining from usage.

his go-to drink is literally whatever expensive wine he can get his hands on; he’ll drink with pierro and analyze wines, on occasion. don’t join them, you’ll die of boredom.

公子/Tartaglia, The eleventh.

-> tolerance: 9/10, very high. Debatable. -> habits: you wouldn’t believe that he can handle alcohol better than most people because every time he drinks, he always gets shitfaced. he’ll insist he’s just testing his limits and building a higher tolerance. don’t bring him out for drinks with il capitano, he’ll inhale 5 shots of fire water in a couple of minutes to “convince” the first that he’s strong. it never works.

probably the best person to go to a bar with, if you manage to go on a day where he didn’t wake up with the urge to get so stupidly plastered that he’ll try to fight every single man in the building. don’t let him try to show off, there aren’t many bars left that haven’t banned him yet.

Царица , The Tsaritsa.

-> tolerance: ?/10. What² -> habits: ṯ̵̿ḧ̸̤́i̷̹͊s̴̠͐ ̷̧̍i̵̦͝ṡ̴̼ ̵̪͛ä��̙́n̵͙͆ ̴͆ͅȃ̶͓s̵̜̅s̴̫̀a̵͑ͅs̵̡̓s̷͇̈́í̷̹n̷͕͠a̷̛̱ṱ̴͘i̷̡̕ō̴̻ń̷ͅ ̶͍̃a̵̧͝ṭ̶͝t̶̮̏e̴͉͑m̵̮̈p̵̰̕t̶̼̔.̸̯͆ ̵̗̔y̵̖͝ó̶̡u̶͇͑ ̵̜͌ẁ̶̘ï̵̢l̶̥̈l̶̲͐ ̴̩̔b̴̪͋e̸͎͌ ̷̲̑p̷̲̋r̴̦͐o̷̙͐m̵̟͝p̴͔͛t̷͔̂l̶̪̏y̶̖͂ ̶͊ͅd̵͉̓ỉ̵͔s̵̩̕p̴͖͐o̶͈͘s̵͌ͅḛ̴͂d̶̺̊ ̴̯̓ơ̵̺f̶̠́ ̵̈́͜a̴͙̎t̵̠͋ ̵̲̈ō̵͉n̴̨̒c̸̭͛ê̵͎.̶͓͘ ̵͇̃y̷̡̆ő̵͍ű̸̮ ̸̙͌c̶͈̔ȧ̷̳n̴͍̎ṅ̵͖ŏ̷̪t̵͉͝ ̸̩̇r̷͈̈́u̷͍͝n̷͔̿.̵̮͘ ̷͕̈́w̸̼̄h̴̥̏ý̵̘ ̷͇̀d̶͉̋ii̷̭̎n̶͙̎k̷̢̀ ̵̢̐c̷̣̀o̴͖̍ḿ̵̹i̵̥͘n̵̲̈g̸̫̒ ̵̠̏iͅií̷͎ť̴̻t̷̛̠y̴̟͝ ̴͖̑c̶͔̎o̴̮̽r̷̬̐ñ̴͖e̶͙͒ŕ̵̥ ̴͈̾s̶̙͊t̶̛̫ò̸̲r̶̺͊e̶̮͆ ̶̣̃b̷̰͘ḙ̴͘e̸̖̕ṛ̸̏ ̵̖̓ẃ̷̞a̷͕͐s̶̳͆ ̵̘̾a̶͔̓ ̵̣͛g̴̰͐o̴͕̊o̵̲̾d̸̦̔ ̴͓͗i

drinks wine with la signora and arlecchino sometimes! their girls' nights only happen once in a blue moon and she doesn’t drink much, but she enjoys the slight buzz from a good red wine nonetheless.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #pierro x reader #capitano x reader #dottore x reader #columbina x reader #arlecchino x reader #pulcinella x reader #are people even into him like that #scaramouche x reader #sandrone x reader #signora x reader #pantalone x reader #childe x reader #cw alcohol #genshin impact headcanons

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ateliersss · 3 months ago

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Don't worry, only You and Him

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: Waking up from the week of bed rest after giving birth, you hadn't expected how your eldest seemed to resent the newest addition to your family. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 2.782 After the Blooming Family series

⇨ I'm back with family drama but also family fluff between mom and her favorite boys. Also, how come Yautja pups are so freaking adorable?! Oh, and these too. Comments are always appreciated.

The happy squeals of an infant pup filled the otherwise peaceful and quiet space of the clan leader’s abode.

Little Toyah was a lively little pup for being only four weeks old. Currently, he was lying on his back on the nest of his parents, his small arms flailing and his short legs kicking as high-pitched babblings left his mouth. His upper body was resting against the calves of your crossed legs. His eyes were wholly focused on you leaning over him, cooing at him while your fingers tickled his sides.

It was one of the rare moments where you weren’t suffocated by your mate who was constantly glued to your side, desperate to be as close to you as possible, and your eldest boy who was shadowing your every move, ensuring you didn’t strain yourself. You knew they meant no harm, but it got overwhelming after some time when you just wanted to leave the nest to get something to eat, or take your pup outside for a short walk in the village, and two looming figures would follow you around.

Especially Akail had a hard time leaving you alone. From what Mi’ytiar had told you, he had been restless in those six days you had been unconscious and even became hostile towards his younger brother. Your heart broke when your mate admitted that he had to physically fight his son off after he tried to forcefully get into your shared bedroom where you were healing and little Toyah was sleeping. Mi’ytiar didn’t need to tell you that it wasn’t an attempt to see you.

You couldn't have imagined how much your near-death experience had affected him. He had been so excited to meet his little mei'hswei, but now all he saw was a parasite that had almost taken his beloved mother away from him.

“It almost killed you!” He had yelled at you in rage when you had tried to confront him about his strange behavior towards Toyah.

His father hadn’t taken kindly in him talking in that tone to you, his large body towering behind yours with crossed arms as he stared murderously at his son. No one was allowed to raise their voice against you, especially your child who had to always respect and cherish you.

The conversation grew heated with every second and Akail had made the mistake of adopting an aggressive posture towards you. Well, not you, but your stubborn incapability of understanding his feelings towards what had almost cost your life. It had set Mi’ytiar off in the worst way possible and both had fought like wild animals until they both halted when your screams finally reached their ears.

In their scramble in the main room of your home, they hadn’t only destroyed most furniture like the long table occupying the middle or had torn down Mi’ytiar’s display of various skulls and other trophies. They had also knocked you over when you had foolishly tried to get between them. You were hysterically crying, emotions all over the place, your trembling body cowering on the ground, both hands pressed to your mouth.

Your mate was by your side in a second and carefully cradled your face. He pulled you towards him, your forehead pressed against his, and filled the air with his reassuring purrs. You choked on your tears and tried your hardest to force them back. You knew how much your negative emotions could affect him. It never ended well with the one that caused them.

“Please don’t kill him.” You pleadingly whispered before you felt him pull away from you.

He had found it very difficult to comply with your request when he banished his son from your home, threatening him to not show his face anywhere near his mate and pup before he had taken you to your nest to calm you from your breakdown.

That was a week ago and you hadn’t seen or heard from Akail ever since. Worry was eating you alive. Not necessarily because he had probably left the planet, but the possibility of him going on a hunt to let off steam. There was a reason you had taught him patience and restraint. One would make the most terrible, most irrational decisions when they were blinded by rage and would be too focused on that one thing causing that emotion than anything else. You had sent Mi’ytiar after him, but even he couldn’t track down his son.

Now, all you could do was wait and hope he would come home.

While a part of you was with your eldest, wherever he was, the other part was occupied with your youngest.

“Who is my pretty little boy? Who is my lovely little boy? Hm? Who is it?” You asked in a high-pitched voice, lifted your pup up above your head, and beamed up at him when he happily squealed. “It’s you!” You pulled him against your chest and smothered his little face with kisses. “So handsome. Yes you are, yes you are! My perfect baby boy.”

Placing him in the crook of your arm, you lovingly looked down at him when he snatched your finger and chewed on it to his heart’s content. It was something he did quite often whenever one was near his mouth. He must have started teething. At least that was what you thought when you felt the tiny bumps in his gums. Even his mandibles had developed in the month since he was born as they were clamping down and around your finger.

“Beautiful like your daddy.” You murmured against his forehead, a smile forming on your lips when Toyah responded with a shrill clicking noise. “And so, so sweet like your mei'hswei.”

Your attention was solely on your pup. That way you didn’t register the sound of the door to your and Mi’ytiar’s bedroom open and how someone slowly made their way over to you. Only when something large crawled on your nest over to you, did you put on a knowing grin. You really couldn’t spend five minutes alone with your pup, could you?

“My love, stop it. Are you needy for attention again?” You started when you felt something bump against your shoulder and upper arm.

But when you turned your head, it wasn’t Mi’ytiar’s forehead that was nudging you.

“O-Oh God.” You breathed out in a shaky exhale. “Akail.”

A voice in the back of your head reminded you that you were still holding your pup in your hands when your fingers twitched and your arms jerked, the need to wrap them around him completely filling your mind. You quickly but gingerly placed Toyah on one of the fluffy blankets you used to tuck yourself in at night before you pulled Akail in a hug and buried your face in the side of his head. You couldn’t hold back the tears of relief as you peppered the skin in reach with kisses.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where have you been?” You bombarded him with questions the second you cupped his face to pull it in front of yours to inspect every centimeter of it.

“’m sorry, Mama.” was his rumbling reply and he nuzzled into your palm.

Your heart broke right then and there.

“Oh, baby…” You whispered, your voice cracking when you saw the sorrow in his eyes. “It’s okay. Everything is fine.”

“Hurt you.” He pressed on in a low whine.

“No, it’s alright. You didn’t hurt me. It was an accident, simply an accident. I shouldn’t have gone between you and your father.” You hurried to reassure him.

Akail let out a huff and glanced over to Toyah whose eyes hadn’t strayed away from you from the moment he had to leave your arms against his will. You followed his line of sight and started stroking his cheek with your thumb.

“It wasn’t his fault, my little warrior.” You began, hoping you could finally discourse the aggressive aversion he had towards his brother. “He had no control over the nature of life. My body was set on birthing him while he wasn’t fully ready. I already suspected it when my water broke. I had premature labor pains for a week when I was carrying you, but with Toyah, it only had been two days. You had enough time to turn, he didn’t.”

As a response, Akail clicked his mandibles in resignation and you knew this wasn’t going to be as easy as you had hoped. You had thought he would have had a change of mind when he disappeared, but apparently not.

You put on a brave smile and reached over to your pup, lifted him up in your arms, and placed him down in your lap, his tiny hands closing around each of your pointer fingers for balance as he stared up at his brother.

“Don’t you want to meet your little mei'hswei?” You asked optimistically as you loosened one of Toyah’s fingers from yours to reach out for Akail.

The narrowed eyes of your eldest strayed from the tiny parasite in his mother’s lap to your hand and without hesitation let you grab his hand. You cautiously pulled his hand down to Toyah, careful as if he would snatch it back any moment, but when he didn’t, your tense posture relaxed a little.

You looked down at the top of Toyah’s head who was fully fixed on his brother now. “Look, Toyah, look who is here.”

You let go of Akail’s hand, delight filling you when his hand inched closer on their own accord, and when he was finally within reach, Toyah’s small fingers instantly wrapped around the finger that was closest to him. You watched how your eldest tensed up and lowly growled at him, yet the little one was hardly impressed by it and instead started chirping.

However, you weren’t as indifferent as your pup and pinned him down with a warning glare.

“Akail.” You hissed through gritted teeth, not wanting to agitate the baby. “He is no threat.”

If he were a dog, he would have tucked his tail between his legs and pressed his ears to his head. Instead, another low whine sounded from the back of his throat for being scolded and he kept his hand in the grip of his younger brother in resignation. For someone who was pretty much a young adult, he still behaved like a little boy when he was around you.

“Do you think your father would tolerate him if he thought of him as one?” You inquired, already knowing the answer as Mi’ytiar was far more aggressive in his protectiveness towards you than Akail. “Your father delivered your brother without knowing if I would survive it or not. He did it because he knew it was my body that caused the inability of a natural birth.”

You hesitated a little with your next words, not knowing if it would help the situation, but it wouldn’t hurt.

“Your birth wasn’t easy as well. It took us hours; me, your father and Cahrein. You may have been in the right position, but it hurt so much that I thought you would claw your way through my stomach if it took any longer. I couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I was slowly giving up and blacking out one too many times.” You paused to watch Akail wince in shame, his body shrinking a little into itself. “But just as your father helped me with your little brother, he helped me make your birth possible and much easier. And he doesn’t love you any less because he knows it was neither your or Toyah’s fault.”

Toyah, who was completely oblivious about the exchange, had released the grip he still had on your other finger and was now clutching another finger of Akail’s hand. He was babbling, his mandibles making a high-pitched clicking noise, before he chomped down on his finger knuckles. Akail straightened his back and his head snapped down before he stared at you with a glare that said “See! A little demon!”, but you only needed to give him that look and any of his protests instantly evaporated.

You softened your scowl and gazed lovingly at Toyah when his hands were moving up to his brother’s wrist, then his forearm, like he was trying to pull himself up. You looked between your boys back and forth, observing the reaction of your eldest and the attempts to climb up his brother’s arm of your youngest. When Toyah seemed to slip sideways from his arm, you gasped and immediately reached out to catch him, but Akail was faster. As he kept his occupied arm taut, the other one moved at once to place his hand under Toyah’s bum.

For a second, you were frozen with your hands still outstretched and only when a low purring reached your ears, you retracted them, one hand gripping the other, and pressed them to your mouth to hide a smile. Akail was actually purring when Toyah was settling on his biceps, seemingly content in his new position.

“You know, he is much smaller than you were at his age.” You casually said, having to bite the inside of your cheek to keep you from squealing at the adorable sight in front of you.

Akail rumbled and you could practically see the satisfaction in his eyes at your words as he watched the pup settle where he was clinging on his arm. Even as a child, stroking his ego had always been a great way to keep him in a good mood. It seemed to work very well now, too, when the thumb of the hand that was still supporting Toyah’s bottom started to caress his back.

“Were you small like this?” Akail asked you after a while of petting his brother which had lulled him to sleep.

“Yeah, probably.” You hummed and moved to sit cross-legged across from him. “You remember what Mama told you about her job on Earth?”

Akail nodded. “Healer. Like Cahrein.”

You laughed and absentmindedly took his hand in yours, carefully to not disturb the sleeping pup. “Yes, like Cahrein. I held so many babies in my arms, I lost count. They were of all kinds of sizes, depending on how their mothers took care of themselves during their pregnancy. Seems like your father had spoiled me a little too much when you were still in my belly.” You giggled.

“Your other pups too?” He then asked, his eyes dulling a little.

“Mine?” You raised your eyebrows in confusion.

“Ooman.”

When it dawned on you what he meant, you softly cooed.

Was he actually thinking that you had…?

Your heart almost bursted with overwhelming emotion as you looked at him. The face of a Yautja wasn’t as capable of expressing emotion as a human. Rather they used their voice and body language to articulate their mood. Akail, however, was still able to look like an insecure bundle of nerves at the worrying possibility that you had another, different family on your home planet. Maybe it was his human part that made it so easy to read him like a book.

“Oh, Akail. The only babies I have are you and your little brother.” You were quick to dissolve his distress and scooted over to him until you were sitting right beside him, your hand cupping his jaw. “I never wanted pups with a human, my sweetling. I never thought of having one because I believed they wouldn’t fit into my life. I never felt the desire to mate with a man that would ensure pups. Not that I ever wanted any with them.”

Immediately, Akail felt at ease at your words and even pulled Toyah closer to him — although you believed it happened rather from his subconscious — like it was a reassuring epiphany that it was only them and no one else connected to you in this way.

“But your Papa…” You sighed with a bright smile when a powerful rush of euphoria cursed through your body at the mere thought of your Mi’ytiar. “Your Papa is the only being in the whole universe that made the idea of not having pups with him unbearable. I wanted to be connected with him in every way possible and the last thing that was missing was being the mother of his pups.” Your hand reached up to his dreads, running your fingers through them when you pulled your hand down. “You and your brother are all I could ask for and I’m so incredibly happy to be your mother. So don’t worry, my little warrior, you only have to share me with Toyah. And your father, of course.”

Masterlist: here

Tag List

@rorrika, @lialiwasneverseen, @lil-lilacwitch, @purplekitten30, @eternalmoonshineofahopelessfan,

@ladygrimmx, @blurpleuni-squid

⇨ Want to join the tag list?

#predator #predator x reader #predator x you #yautja x reader #yautja x you #fanfic

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almostempty · 1 month ago

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too good to be true (frankie x f!reader)

Too good to be true (frankie morales x f!reader) | wc: 9k | other fics | Ao3

summary: frankie, a regular at your coffee shop, is there for you when your boyfriend joel breaks up with you and disappears practically overnight. despite not knowing each other long, frankie just seems to be perfect for you and you fall hard and fast

note: this was supposed to be for the accidental adultery trope for @auteurdelabre 's trope challenge from last month. i thought accidental adultery was more like the wrong bed trope so--you can find that here with Dieter's party, but it turns out accidental adultery is more like ..when you thought ur lover died in the war or something and you start a new life with someone else and then they show up again. that didn’t interest me- soooo (spoiler) in my version reader doesn’t know that joel only left her bc of frankie

warnings/tags: mdni explicit, smut, dark!frankie, stalker!frankie, dubcon, lies, deceit, coffee shop au gone wrong, accidental adultery, ex bf Joel, abandonment issues, anxiety, breakup grief, using sex to avoid processing emotions, face fucking, masturbation, crying, love bombing aka emotional manipulation/abuse, frankie doesn’t have a job bc he nefariously acquired a large cash settlement from his return trip to the jungle– or maybe he has a military pension idk don’t ask questions, revenge porn, jealousy, delusional reader, jealous and possessive frankie, if i missed something important pls let me know,

standard weds warnings: unprotected sex with no consequences bc it’s fiction so it’s free to imagine it raw; f!reader is able-bodied otherwise, no specific descriptions; no y/n, likely many mistakes and i accept that 🫡

You don’t remember the first time you met, but you remember when you started looking forward to seeing Frankie. He was a quiet regular, didn’t ask for much, but was always polite. Kind. He’d come by at the same time, get the same coffee, and sit at a table in the lobby reading the news on his phone. Most mornings, you were busy enough that you didn’t even think about starting a conversation, but you’d sneak a glance here and there as he sat. Sometimes, he caught you, and you’d both flash a quick smile.

He was a fun little fantasy to look forward to. You weren’t single or looking anyway, but it didn’t hurt to have something to help you crawl out of bed at 3:30 AM. It was always quiet until just after 6 AM, when the commuters started coming through. Frankie usually came through the lobby just as the morning rush was picking up, curls still damp from his post-workout shower and a soft smile just for you.

Until it changed. He started showing up even earlier. That’s when you began to get to know him bit by bit. In the quiet dark of the early mornings, while the espresso machines warmed up and the

You learned that he moved into town this year–not in this neighborhood, but he likes the coffee here, so it’s worth the morning drive. He’s single. Ex-military. Sticks to a routine. Likes your name. Remembers details. Asks follow-up questions about your weekend plans on Monday mornings.

Did you and your boyfriend see that movie you were thinking about? Did you get to sleep in like you’d hoped? Did he take you to the farmer’s market? Did he like the recipe you wanted to try out?

It was sweet. And infuriating. Someone you barely knew always remembered your plans or the little throwaway comments you’d make. You knew it wasn’t intentional, but it always stung when he’d ask about your plans, and you were left coming up with excuses for why they never seemed to happen. You carried the discomfort home with you until it spilled over into your relationship.

And, thanks to Frankie really, it forced you to talk about it. Your boyfriend, Joel, had been drifting away. Complacent and avoidant. He’d been staying late at work, canceling on your weekend plans, always too tired to fuck, generally just a bad-tempered brick wall rather than a boyfriend. But after a serious conversation and some threats you hoped you wouldn’t have to follow through on, he’d agreed to make changes.

It was working, too. You made date nights a priority. You sent flirty texts during the day–even if neither of you had time to respond right away.

When he had long days during the week, you’d give him a back massage. You’d sit straddling his ass, rubbing down his shoulder blades, kneading circles with your thumbs, and savoring the view of his broad back and the warmth of his body under yours. You would pull the stress and tension away from his neck and spine, eliciting low groans of pleasure from Joel that would stir up the heat pooling in your core. You’d keep it up until you lulled him to sleep–or on your favorite nights–he’d flip over underneath you and watch you ride him until you were both slick with sweat, panting, and needing another quick shower before succumbing to sleep.

It’s those tender moments that make it hurt that much more now.

To think he could just throw you away like this. That he didn’t think you were worth the face-to-face conversation. Worth the closure. Just leaving you a fucking note, like you were a business transaction. Here’s your memo letting you know he no longer requires your services.

Fucking coward.

You re-read the letter for the thousandth time. It’s real, and you aren’t insane. You shove it back into your apron pocket. It’s your token. A reminder that this hell is your reality.

You slip back to the front counter, plastering on your best customer service smile.

But of course, it’s fucking Frankie. The concern is written across his face before he even gets to the counter. Are you that easy to read? You’re never going to make it through your shift.

“You doing okay?” he asks softly as if he might spook you. Stupid big brown eyes. Just like Joel’s. They make you weak. You can’t be weak. You try to shift into a more defensive mode–chest forward, shoulders back.

“Why? Do I look like shit today?”

“No, never,” he tries to reassure you. Always so sweet to you.

“Sorry, I just mean, I wouldn’t be surprised. I feel like shit.” You grumble as you grab his drip coffee and set it on the counter between the two of you.

“I take it he’s still gone then?”

You can only nod back in agreement. Can’t even look Frankie in the eyes; you just linger on his mouth and scruffy jaw where it seems safer to stare. Until his mouth shifts into a sympathetic frown.

“You deserve better, you know,” he says like it’s a confession. Only meant for you and his coffee to hear.

“Sure,” you sigh. Maybe he’s right. You deserve someone that can look you in the eye when they break up with you. Explain in more than a few sentences why they’d block you and disappear like a fucking ghost. Maybe you never really knew Joel at all if he could do this to you.

You can feel your eyes welling up again, your face is still swollen from crying all night, and you’re sick of the emotional whiplash. Did you miss the signs the whole time? Was it something you did? Will you ever know? The cafe starts to blur as your heart rate increases.

“Hey,” Frankie murmurs, “breathe.” It’s soft, but the timbre of his voice draws your attention. You focus on inhaling and exhaling, willing away the sobs. Just as you steady, they almost start all over again when you think about how pathetic you must seem to him. Standing at the register, sucking in shaky breath, and trying not to have a complete breakdown.

But Frankie assures you he doesn’t think you’re pathetic. And somehow, you get through the morning. And the next. Day by day, you crawl through the week against everything inside of you that wants to scream and hide in bed for a month. By the end of the week, the only thought that gets you through the opening routine is that it’s your last shift before the weekend.

There’s no way you could survive another shift just going through the motions like an undead barista. You know you’re on the edge, fragile and raw. You can just get through today and then spend the weekend locked in your bed wallowing, ugly crying, binge eating, anything.

Your flimsy resistance almost crumbles when Frankie shows up with flowers for you. It’s too sweet. He seems so concerned. He claims he wanted you to have something to help cheer you up over the weekend.

His thoughtful gesture is overwhelming. Having someone care about you, think of you, worry about you? And worse, to know that it could be so easy for someone to show you they care.

To know that you aren’t hard to love.

He notices the way your eyes shine, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. He apologizes, “If it’s too much, you don’t have to take them. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and I definitely didn’t want to make you cry.”

You assure him they’re lovely and that you appreciate the gesture. You give him your warmest smile through your misty eyes. And you take the flowers home.

You stare at them all weekend.

Your favorite flowers. How did he know? They make you think of Frankie all weekend. His smile, how reliable he is with his routine, his thoughtfulness, how kind he is to you.

The qualities you thought you had found in Joel.

You let yourself embrace your agony for the weekend. Determined to make it through at least the first stage of grief. As if you can allot a number of hours to it and just check it off your list.

A part of you admits that there’s something comforting about knowing you’ll see Frankie again Monday morning. That someone will check in on you.

And he does.

Reliable as ever, he shows up in the dark cover of the early morning. You greet each other with your deep morning voices, and there’s something about the fact that you’re the first person you both speak to every morning that draws a genuine smile from you.

You keep going to work. Frankie keeps showing up. The world keeps turning.

Days pass and you can start to fall asleep without having to exhaust yourself completely. Some of the weight on your chest sloughs off when your ribs shake with laughter at Frankie’s jokes. His charm brightens your dark days.

One afternoon, as you’re dropping an armful of grocery bags onto the counter, you notice the flowers he gave you. They’re starting to wilt. You hesitate to toss them for some reason. Convinced they’ve got another day in them, at least.

You sweep up the fallen petals and pollen, spinning the vase to find the best angle left. The flowers may be fading, but Frankie is beginning to occupy a permanent residence in your mind. You find yourself keeping mental notes of things you want to share with him the next morning. A joke about a show you both keep up with, something you saw on your walk home, a question you forgot to ask the day before because you were distracted.

Distracted by things that don’t sound like they could possibly be distracting. Like the curve of his bottom lip or the space where his neck meets his shoulder. Or worse, the way he smiles so wide you can see his dimples when you double down on an argument about a movie, TV show, or the best takeout on this side of town.

The next morning he has fresh flowers for you. It’s as if he knew you were hesitating to get rid of them, to lose the physical evidence. You squint at him with a playful accusation of how did you know they were on their last legs? He reasons it’s been a week already. A week. It feels like it’s only been a day, and at the same time, it feels like a whole month has passed.

It helps.

The following week is much of the same. Morning chats with Frankie. Busy shifts with rushes and endless cleaning tasks. Running errands, trying to keep in touch with friends, trying to keep yourself too busy and distracted to fall back into the sharp pain of loss. Of coming home to an empty apartment. Of waking up alone. Of the way Joel erased himself so completely from your life, you have to find tangible reminders that he was ever real.

You loosen your grip on the hope that Joel might show up with an apology or even respond to the text you had sent. He can’t even hear you out or answer a single question? You give up altogether on the idea that the whole thing might have been some confusing mistake.

There’s still a hole rotting in your heart, but if you stay busy enough, you can ignore it. Mostly.

You stick to your plan, steadfast that time will heal your wounds. Days pass, and you find yourself once again asking Frankie what he has planned for the day. But this time, he hesitates.

Frankie tells you he’ll be out of town for a few days. You aren’t sure why, but it feels like he jammed his fingers into that hole in your heart when he tells you. Don’t abandon me. Please.

He must see right through you.

“Here,” he says, holding out his hand. “I know it’s only a few days, but I was thinking I don’t want to miss out on your remarkably accurate reality TV predictions. You take the napkin with his number written on it. How old-fashioned. It makes your heart flutter. “Keep me updated.”

You swallow the butterflies and turn the energy into a smirk. “You’re so going to regret this,” you tease.

You feel lit from within, glowing and floaty for the rest of your shift. Getting the hot regular’s number gives you a rush. It’s not like he asked you on a date or anything, but still, it feels good to have someone want to keep talking to you.

Until you clock out and immediately start spiraling. Should you text him now just to give him your number? Wish him a safe trip? Play it cool and wait until tomorrow morning? Or maybe he’s busy in the morning? Shit. You never even asked what his trip was for.

……

It’s early afternoon when Frankie’s phone buzzes. Your shift must have just ended.

You: it’s me!

You: figured it’s only fair you get my number now, too

Frankie: Hey you :)

You: hey :)

You: i hope the trip goes well

Frankie: Thanks, it’ll be better now.

You: how come?

He underestimated you. He thought he wouldn’t hear from you until tomorrow. Thought it would take longer.

Frankie: Well, I just got this pretty girl’s number. Now I’ve got her updates to look forward to.

He shakes his head to himself, pocketing his phone and stretching out on his sofa.

Maybe he didn’t need the ruse of being out of town at all. You don’t need the absence to suck you in any deeper; you’re moving on faster than he thought. Good.

He sprawls out across the couch like a lazy dog in the sun, TV on mute, still fully dressed. He drags his eyes over the bare walls of his apartment. He’s going to need the next few days to make the place seem a little more welcoming. More like a place you’d be happy to wake up in.

He checks the notes hidden in his phone of places you shop, your favorite color, the way your apartment is decorated. He already knows what you want. What you need. With that thought, he drifts off, satisfied, into a long nap.

He doesn’t wake until his evening alarm goes off, checking his phone to see what reality show you’re going to be glued to tonight. MILF manor. Who comes up with these? He rolls his eyes, stretching, yawning, and traipsing across his apartment to find some cold pizza in the fridge.

Holding one slice between his teeth and the other in one hand, he debates whether he should take a drive through your neighborhood or stay in for the night. His phone buzzes again, and he figures it’s a sign. He drops his pants near the hallway and scarfs his cold dinner as he settles back in the living room, unmuting the show and opening your messages.

You’re funny.

Sending quick-witted observations and callbacks.

You force him to pay attention. You’re sharp. If he doesn’t watch, you’ll know. You always call him out for missing the nuance. You challenge that he could predict the next winner if he paid closer attention.

When you get frustrated with him and huff about how he missed something completely obvious, he memorizes your expressions. The fire in your eyes when you’re passionate. You feel so deeply and express your emotions so freely.

He likes that about you. Funny. Smart. Bold. Passionate. Sexy.

Perfect.

He lets his mind wander as he leans back. The room glows from the light of the TV, flashing brighter and dimmer. The look on your face when he said he’d be gone for a few days pops into his mind, how your eyes flashed wide and the soft pout that tugged at your bottom lip.

You need him. It’s so clear. And you’re so perfect.

The show is just noise. Static.

He closes out of your messages. Opening up his photos. Scrolling through pictures of you. Some from social media, and some taken while you were working and unaware.

Perfect.

His eyes fall shut as he tips his head back, relaxed and comfortable as he sinks deeper into the cushion.

“Perfect lips, perfect mouth,” he mutters to himself as he sets the phone aside altogether.

It’s a simple but effective scene that plays out in his mind. A go-to fantasy since the day he first laid eyes on you.

He wedges his boxers down just far enough to free his half-hard cock. He tries to start slow, with languid strokes as he imagines the heat of your mouth sucking him deeper. The sight of you looking up at him with your lips stretched around him.

“Just perfect,” he groans to himself. He can’t hold back his urgency at the thought of you, quickly amping up the speed of his wrist and the strength of his grip. It’s minutes, or maybe seconds before his muscles are tensing and jerking as he comes to the thought of you.

It eases the tension, but he still needs you. Soon.

……

The rest of your week passes quickly.

Your head is in the clouds over your new texting buddy. You check your phone on all your breaks but send yourself into another spiral, trying to work out the balance between enthusiastic but not needy. Responding quickly, but not being too much. You don’t want to come off as crazy.

It fully absorbs your attention. The excitement and the anxiety. The rush when you get a new message and the anguish over every word you type. Rereading your messages until you get a response. Worrying yourself over your silly jokes and banter. But when he responds, it’s addictive. You’re smitten when he matches your energy or sends a flirty quip.

It makes you smile so hard your cheeks burn. You get distracted taking orders. It’s all-consuming.

………

Frankie keeps tabs on you the rest of the week. When you walk home from work, when you run errands, when you’re out with your friends. He picks up things for his apartment while you’re at work. At night, he drives down your block. He watches you watching TV. Until dark, then you diligently shut your curtains just as the last dregs of the sunset disappear.

Tonight, he lingers, still parked across the street from your apartment building. He sends another text, and his eyes flick to your curtains like you might open them back up just for him. You’re such a good girl for that, though–not letting anyone else watch.

Frankie: I’m back tomorrow. You have weekend plans?

You: that’s great! no plans for me

Frankie: You want to watch tomorrow’s episode together?

You: that would be fun!

Frankie: Perfect :)

��……

You don’t know why you offered to host. You feel like your place has been a mess. Since Joel left, you’ve been letting your depression piles calcify. You shove your laundry into the washer, toss your unopened mail into a drawer, and do your best to make it look like you’re a fully functioning adult.

Something about having Frankie over has you feeling pent up.

You’re nervous. Excited. And you’re still unregulated and exhausted from the emotional devastation of Joel disappearing on you. You’ve been letting yourself sink into the distraction of making a new friend. A hot, new friend. But as helpful as the distraction is, you still haven’t really processed the pain.

Maybe it’s too soon to let yourself think about Frankie all the time. Maybe you need to really feel your misery and figure out what you missed. What you did wrong. No, even your body rejects that idea, sending a shiver of anxiety through you.

Fuck it.

You’re both single adults. There’s no rulebook that says you can’t entertain a new crush. So what’s the harm? You’re hoping that seeing Frankie in person will help you get clarity on the flirty vibe of his texts. Are they truly flirty, or are you just delusional?

You do your best to find a casual “just watching trash TV” type of outfit after your everything shower. You bought enough snacks to feed a high school football team, you know, just in case. You flutter around your space, hastily cleaning anything else you can think of, worried about details that only an evil in-law would scrutinize you for.

Despite your frenzy and feeling on edge all afternoon, the concern all seems to vanish when Frankie shows up at your door. You welcome him in and swoon a little over the fresh flowers he brought you. You still have some nerves that don’t relent, but they’re the smiley, giggly, butterfly type of nerves now.

As you get settled, it all feels surprisingly easy.

You make each other laugh. You offer your insane spread of snacks, and he settles next to you on your sofa before the episode starts. He appreciates all of your commentary and banters with you over your strongest opinions. It feels surprisingly natural to be spending time together like this. Without an espresso machine between you.

You’re taken with his presence. He balances you. Even when he debates your controversial takes and unpopular opinions, he doesn’t get worked up like you.

His calm demeanor is grounding. His nearness and steadiness relaxes you.

The stress let down makes your head feel heavy, and without thinking, you rest your temple against Frankie’s shoulder with a deep sigh. It feels comforting until you realize how forward you’re being and snap your head back up.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you blurt out, scooting away. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” he reassures you, voice soft and low.

He’s staring at you so intently. You feel the heat in your face, embarrassed at acting so comfortable with him and self-conscious under his gaze. You still don’t really know what he wants. And you don’t want to fuck anything up. But he doesn’t seem bothered. In fact, you swear his eyes drop to your mouth before they flick back up.

“More than okay,” he adds, and your stomach flips at his honesty. “Here,” he shifts and invites you to scoot under his arm. You get comfortable, resting your head on his chest.

You try to watch the TV, but you can feel Frankie watching you. It makes you restless and unable to think clearly. You peer up at him. It’s a charged look; maybe it was already obvious, but you hadn’t felt confident enough to put the pieces together until now.

“What?” You whisper, unable to fight the smile pulling at your mouth.

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs.

Uh oh. Your breath hitches, and something in you cracks. A tear slips from the corner of your eye, and you try to hide it, whispering thanks into his chest and looking down.

“Hey,” he tilts your chin to look up at him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you choke out, trying to will away the emotions that bubble up inside of you. “That’s really sweet of you.” You steady your breathing, slower and deeper. What is wrong with you? You expected something flirty. You didn’t expect something so.. heartfelt?

The more you slow your breathing, the more it feels like you’re inhaling the essence of Frankie. Whatever combination of laundry detergent, deodorant, body wash, whatever it is is all combined it’s soothing. Nice. It calms you.

But why? How does just breathing against him make you feel safe?

You can’t even think about safety. You can’t count on anyone else. What if he leaves out of nowhere, too? Your thoughts pick up, racing. Falling deeper into your anxieties. You aren’t even on a date; you shouldn’t be worried about this guy abandoning you.

Your fears eat at you, worsening your fragile state. Your body shakes gently as you try to breathe through the anxiety.

Frankie runs his hand along your back. He’s so warm, solid, and strong.

You feel like you must seem insane, which makes your emotional flooding worse. He just keeps murmuring at you about how you’re okay, and he pulls you into his arms to give you a firm hug, regulating you. Fixing you.

When you lean back to apologize for crying on him, he shakes his head in disagreement.

“Don’t apologize,” he says it like he means it, like he won’t be taking questions or arguments. You sniffle as you do your best to accept that. “You still look beautiful,” he says, pulling you back towards him.

It’s everything you didn’t know you needed to hear. Your face nestles against his neck. Delirious with your state of mind and his flattery and reassurance. You can’t stop yourself from kissing his neck. The exact spot you’ve been so distracted by on so many mornings. His skin is soft and warm; you can taste your tears, wet and salty on your lips. You do it again before you freeze. What are you doing?

Frankie’s hand slips up the back of your neck, cradling your head in his warm palm. It feels like encouragement. You test your theory, pressing another gentle kiss to his jaw where his scruffy beard tickles your nose.

The TV might still be on, but all you can hear is your breathing and his. The sound of your lips against his skin. And the low-pitched noise in Frankie’s throat that urges you on. Provoking a needful fire within you. Intense and frantic. You nip at his ear before stamping open-mouthed kisses back down his neck, pulling back only to breathe hot and humid against his skin.

You hesitate, a frenzied desire has you wanting to straddle his lap and take more and more, but something makes you pause. Frankie knows. He feels your weight shifting and makes the move for you, pulling you onto his lap.

“I know,” he says as his large hands wrap around both sides of your jaw. “Keep going.” The encouragement pours over you like warm honey. Face to face, you wrap your arms around his neck. The last thread of your doubt snaps and you close the gap. Pressing your lips together. Softly for a second, before your mouths are parting and your tongues and teeth work fervently to express your desire.

Then it becomes a desperate blur, your fingers curling into his hair, tugging until he’s groaning into your mouth. His hands slipping under your shirt, hot against your skin, snaking back down to knead the curve of your ass while you roll your hips, grinding into his lap in search of friction.

You feel him hardening beneath you and a molten hot thrill radiates between your legs. There’s a raw quality to your movements as you bite at his lip, scratch at his shoulders, and whine with a frustrated edge.

You’re taking out all your emotional distress on him. Or, rather, you’re begging him to erase it all, to bite back harder, to use force, to dominate. You keep trying to use your body instead of words. Just teeth, nails, and needy writhing. Anything sharp, forceful, rough. An offering.

Tears still roll down your cheeks, hot with anger, anguish, and everything you can’t name. You aren’t interested in exploring your emotions. You need something more visceral.

You sit back, hands shooting towards Frankie’s belt, chasing more, when he stops you in your tracks. His hand possessively grips below your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

Your cunt throbs at the look on his face. The soft, gentle Frankie is gone. His face is hard and dangerous as he studies you. For some reason that makes you want him even more.

His fingers dig into your cheek eliciting a sharp inhale from you, parting your lips into a small “o” shape, before he releases you. You know you’re a mess. Teary, panting, wild-eyed–but his lips curl into sinful grin. Reflexively you tilt your pelvis, drawing the heat of your core along the ridge of his erection. Your eyes flutter shut, as you aim to forget yourself and focus on the sensation.

But his chest shakes, jostling you in his lap, with his rumbly, dark chuckle. It’s condescending, startling you and stilling your hips. You blink at Frankie. The charged air is thick. The rest of the room has faded. Your brows furrow as you wonder, but your thighs tense.

“Keep going.”

It’s a demand this time, not an affirmation or encourager. His sinister smirk is gone, replaced by a frighteningly blank stare. His carnivorous eyes drop, watching your fingers as you work open his belt and jeans.

Shit. You can tell he’s big as you trace your fingers along his cock, over his boxers, savoring the heat in your palm. The damp fabric at the tip pleases you, and you peel the waistband down to reveal the glorious vision that has you wetting your lips.

“Shit,” you repeat out loud this time. A primal, hungry need possesses you as you admire his cock. The glistening head, thick shaft, and dark patch of curls at the base. Just the sight of him is intoxicatingly masculine and dominant.

You need him in your mouth.

You slink off his lap, sinking to your knees between his legs. Excitement flutters in your pussy and you feel like you’ve fallen into a into a trance. Your body moves faster than your mind, tugging at his jeans as he repositions at the edge of the couch.

“I know,” he mutters under his breath as you wrap your hand around the smooth skin. “I know what you need,” he continues. You can only hum in response. Preoccupied by the slip of your thumb dragging a trail of precome down along the underside of his cock.

He cups the back of your head, urging you towards his tip with a commanding open growled down at you. You want to pout for not getting the chance to tease and savor the moment, but you don’t have the time when he slides past your lips and hits the back of your throat.

You choke, sputtering around him and pulling back. His hand encourages you to try again and you’re eager to take it like he gives it. Refocusing on controlling your breath, you look up to see the fierceness in his eyes on his otherwise blank face. A confusing mix of warning and excitement stirs in your core, making you squirm on your knees.

The discomfort makes something flicker across his face.

You try again, determined, like you’ve got something to prove. You pull his other hand to your cheek. Please lead. You catch the start of a smirk on his face before he’s guiding you once again. It makes your mind blank; all you can do is breathe and focus on relaxing your muscles. It’s a welcome release from the stress. Grounding you in the present. You can only think as fast as he can glide along your tongue.

As you build a rhythm, he verges on brutal, but when you’re rewarded with the delicious sound of Frankie groaning because of you the intensity means nothing. Your eyes water as you refuse to gag out of sheer willpower. His thumb smears your tears across your cheekbone, and he pulls you off of his cock.

He takes in your swollen lips, ragged breathing, and wet lashes like he’s committing the details to memory as you catch your breath, before he’s tapping at your cheek. You open wide for him and he rests the head of his cock on your tongue, shallowly tipping you back and forth.

Your jaw could be aching or your knees may be digging into the rug, but it doesn’t matter to you. It’s much easier to meditate on the weight of his length slipping along your wet tongue. Centering yourself on that thought, your eyes flutter shut.

You wonder if this side of Frankie has always been lurking beneath the surface. Chillingly collected, but with something viscous bleeding into the edges. You wonder if maybe you’ve called to this part of him with the mayhem of your state of mind.

“Yeah,” Frankie rasps in his gravelly tone causing you to blink back up at him. You wonder if he can read your mind; if he was answering you. The hint of a smile remains on the corner of his lips when you look up, “Making you feel better already.” He’s presumptive but accurate.

You give a muffled affirmation that vibrates in your throat as he slides past your lips and you take him deep as he can be. All your senses are filled with Frankie when you inhale, when you swallow, when you blink. You give, pliant for him, trusting him with the control. You don’t worry about how obscene you might look with tears rolling down your cheeks. You just want to hear what other sounds he might make for you. His thumb drags over your cheek again, wiping away the wet streaks.

“This is the only reason you ever cry for me.” Frankie’s voice is dripping with affection. And possession.

It makes everything foggy. The sentiment, the delivery, the authority. He doesn’t let you dwell on the unspoken commitment in his statement. Doesn’t give you the time to question him or spiral inward.

Your head swims until he pulls you up, strips you, and settles you back onto his lap. Some action movie autoplayed after your episode ended. The crashing and explosions of the chase scene in the background don’t ruin the moment, in a twisted way it’s almost a fitting soundtrack for the two of you.

Frankie allows you to pull his shirt up, over his head, and time slows. The warmth radiating between your bodies is nothing compared to the searing heat of Frankie’s gaze. It’s dizzying, between his torrid expression and his grip on your hips as he guides you closer.

You go entirely mindless when the head of his cock nudges your clit, gasping as he slips along your wet seam. It brings everything into focus for you, and you reach between your bodies to guide him directly to your deplorably empty cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” your word turns to a groan as he breaches your entrance, and you tense at the stretch, holding still.

“Keep going,” he orders lowly, and you inch down until he impatiently takes control, slamming you down until you meet his hips. Your mouth hangs open at his move and the immediate fullness. His hardened look softens as your walls ripple and flex, adjusting to his size.

At least until you start moving, grinding against him, slowly at first. Then the sharp sternness returns. You’re unaware, chasing the friction as your clit rubs against the dark hair surrounding the base of his cock.

“Knew you’d be perfect,” he says it more like an I told you so to himself than praise for you, but the words affect you just the same. Your chest rises, swelling with pride, and you chase his approval instead of your pleasure.

You ride him until your thighs burn. His hands are everywhere. Rolling your nipples between his fingers, squeezing all of your soft curves, spreading your legs wider to watch where he disappears inside of you. You bounce eagerly for him, spine arching to draw his eyes to the way your tits ripple from the force of your body colliding into his.

You whine in disapproval when he interrupts you, pulling you flush against his chest, grazing his teeth along your neck. “Give it to me,” Frankie demands, his voice rough and raw, breath hot along your sweat-damp skin.

He runs his hand down your body, thumb circling your clit, adding the pressure you need. You edge closer and closer, body taut with anticipation. “Come for me,” he commands. It’s the authority and his gravelly voice rolling through you that launches you into a shuddering release.

Frankie continues talking while you’re disoriented by the overwhelming pleasure. “For me,” he grunts through clenched teeth as your pussy contracts around him. “I know that’s what you need.” You can only moan as you cling to his broad shoulders. “Only me.”

You figure he’s just rambling until he grabs you by the jaw again, demanding you respond. Demanding you repeat it for him. And you do. With glassy eyes and you mutter his words back to him. Declaring you only come for him. That you need him.

Your words unlock something within Frankie. “Good,” he approves. “Good girl.” He praises you gruffly as he holds you steady, pounding into you with an untamed strength. You’re floating, starry-eyed and softheaded at his praise. Murmuring sentence fragments and his name, conjuring throaty grunts from Frankie until he stills, coming deep inside of you. “Only me,” he echoes and you confirm.

“Only you.”

In your unguarded state, it’s a welcome commitment. Maybe you haven’t had any real dates yet, but he knows you. He wants you. He tells you he wants to take care of you, and that feels fucking good.

You collapse against his chest, matching his breathing. The movie playing behind you reaches a tragic twist, setting the third act in motion and solidifying the protagonists dark path. You run your tongue along the column of Frankie’s throat as the score of the film hangs unresolved on a dissonant chord. He pulls you to his lips, kissing you possessively and captivating you.

Your bodies flow, connected and attuned. In his lap, in his arms, with his tongue slipping between your lips, you feel wanted. Assured. Content to accept that he knows what you need.

And he’s unrelenting. Determined to prove it to you. Again and again.

All night. On the couch, in the shower, in your bed.

Until the night bleeds into the morning and he doesn’t disappear.

You take turns waking and watching one another sleep. Verifying he’s real. Watching your chest rise and fall before drifting off again. Until the sun heats your room and you wake again to find yourself curled into his broad frame. His chest to your back as he draws his fingers down your along the dip and swell of your waist and hip.

“Did you mean it?” you ask, in a strikingly solemn tone for the soft setting. Breath shallow as you stare off toward the window. Not ready to turn and face him in the daylight.

“Every word.” He punctuates his affirmation with a tender kiss behind your ear. His reassurance satisfies you; warmth blooms from your chest spreading to your fingers and toes.

You spend a lazy Sunday together. Eating, laughing, fucking, and gazing at each other like lovesick teenagers. It’s too sweet to end. Instead, you become inseparable, taking turns staying at each other’s places until you have to go back.

The world feels bright again. Lighter.

He had paid such close attention as you got to know each other. He’s almost suspiciously perfect. Picking up your favorite takeout meals, putting on your favorite movies, and keeping your flowers fresh as the weeks pass.

You feel like you can never get enough of him somehow. You think about him all day at work, even though he still visits you every morning like clockwork. Your heart swells when he meets you at the end of your shift to walk you home.

You find yourself canceling your happy hour dates with friends to stay in with Frankie instead. Postponing and rescheduling, you’ll see them soon. It’s like there aren’t enough minutes in the day to get your fill of Frankie.

You’re insatiable, always needing him in your mouth, between your legs, fucking you through the mattress, on the counter, any surface you can find. You’re never too much. He’s equally infatuated with you, a mutual obsession. Fulfilling your darker desires and unleashing fantasies you’ve never felt safe enough to explore. He’s greedy and hungry for you. Making you feel wanted and desired.

With your head in the clouds, all you can see is how much he cares about you. He texts you whenever you’re apart, picks you up after your shifts, shows you off to his friends.

You barely have to do anything for yourself. He’s always thinking of you, predicting your needs before know them yourself. He picks up your mail for you, runs errands before you get home, and stocks his apartment with all of the products you use and love so you don’t have to go home for days at a time.

Things are so good that it’s rare when something goes wrong.

But when it does, it really fucking hurts.

When you get into an argument, a real one, he doesn’t fight with you. He leaves, swiftly and without another word. He doesn’t respond to your texts or calls. It feels like you’ve been torn in half; you sob and shake alone in your bed until your alarm blares and your headache throbs.

He doesn’t respond the following day, doesn’t come in for coffee, and doesn’t show any signs of existing. You move through your shift like a hollow corpse haunting the cafe. Time drags agonizingly slowly.

Every time the door opens your eyes snap towards the entrance, hoping to see the familiar curls and broad shoulders, but it’s not him. You restart your phone just on the odd chance there’s something wrong with it. He wouldn’t abandon you. He knows that would destroy you.

The void in your chest is cold and dark. Anger simmers somewhere inside of it, but it’s not strong enough to set you off. When Frankie shows up at the end of your shift, the anger is snuffed out completely. His presence immediately reverses your heartbreak, and suddenly you’re apologizing to him before he gets a word out.

You have to. He has to know you wouldn’t do anything to make him leave. He can’t. He’s calm, accepting your apology and taking you home where he erases your pain. With his hands, and mouth, and cock. Until you forget what the argument was ever about, and what it felt like to watch him walk away. Until it’s back to normal.

Every day you rely on him more and more; you can’t breathe without him. But when he’s with you, everything feels easy. Right.

Not many things can throw the two of you off. Your friends seem happy enough for you, despite their questions and insistence that you come out with them more often. You get along well with Frankie’s friends. They’re quick witted and welcome you genuinely.

They treat you like family, but it doesn’t stop Frankie’s jealousy from flaring up. If Benny smiles at you for too long or if you rest a hand on Will’s bicep when you laugh it only takes minutes before Frankie’s fingers dig into your arm and he whisks you away.

It gives you a perverse thrill every time.

When he folds you over the bathroom counter at his friend’s house. Demanding you watch in the mirror as he reminds you with a fierce snarl and devastating thrusts that you’re his. When you can still hear his friends horseing around outside, but he pounds into you with such force, you can’t quiet yourself. He slaps a hand around your mouth to silence you, growling into your ear that you’ll take it quietly, like a good girl.

Sometimes you aren’t even sure what triggers him.

Like when he fucks you against the side of his SUV in the parking lot of the trendy bar Benny had invited you both to. All you can piece together is Frankie muttering something about your dress as he yanks the top of it down letting your tits spill into the cool night air. He’s reckless and animalistic, claiming you roughly under the stars and streetlights before you can even get into the car let alone through your front door.

…..

Tonight, you both know exactly what got under his skin. Maybe not the why of it all, but he’s sure you know how he feels, and he wants to hear you say it.

It started this afternoon. He picked you up from work, like usual, and you chatted in the car as he drove to the grocery store. You sighed, tiredly as you recounted an exchange with a rude customer, but when Frankie pulled your hand towards his mouth to press a gentle kiss to the delicate skin on your inner wrist.

Predictably, it brightened your features. Knowing your buttons doesn’t dull the intoxicating effect you have on him, though. He loves the way you light up so easily for him and it serves to deepen his conviction time and time again. Like a constant affirmation that he is where he is supposed to be. That everything he does for is exactly what he should be doing. Exactly what you need.

He was still ruminating on this as you led him through the aisles of the grocery store. Unbothered that you had to double back to the produce section after forgetting some fresh herb you determined was crucial to the dish you planned out. You dashed around the corner in front of him, with a giggle when Frankie’s heart stilled.

He didn’t have time to distract you. Your laughter cut off immediately.

“What the fuck?” you muttered and Frankie grabbed your hand.

Joel’s pace quickened as he brushed past you. Your head turned, calling his name once, but Joel carried on as if you didn’t exist. Frankie studied your face, emotions flooded your expression as you watched Joel walking away. Something darker flickered across them.

Frankie followed your line of sight. Flowers. Joel was carrying a bouquet of flowers.

You apologized to Frankie. Clearly thrown off, but determined not to let it get to you or to Frankie.

“I didn’t know he even lived here still,” you remarked.

He doesn’t. The possessive fire burned through Frankie’s veins. “We’re going,” he commanded in a low tone that made your eyes flare wide.

“What?”

“Now.”

“We can’t leave everything.”

“They won’t arrest us.” He argued, as he all but carried you out the door, ushering you in a blur to his car and all the way home. Frankie moved swiftly and silently. Wholly consumed by the need to feel you writhing underneath him and crying out his name. He needed it so viscerally, he didn’t even have time to process how he was going to deal with Joel.

Until you’re breathless and shuddering beneath him. Repeating everything he wants to hear.

“Only for you,” you repeat as you rake your nails down his shoulder blades and the plane of his back.

“Again,” he demands. You don’t know if he wants you to keep talking or to come again, but both are inevitable at this point.

“I’m yours,” you pant, wrapping your legs around him as if you could pull him any deeper inside of you. He shifts slightly, angling your hips and your cunt clenches around him pulling him devastatingly close to the edge as you moan his name.

He stills and you whine in protest as Frankie stretches past you to pick his phone up off the bedside table. “Keep going,” he orders as he points the lens at you. He needs you to say it again. He adjusts to resume his pace, snapping his hips into causing your lips to part with another moan.

“I’m yours,” you repeat, “all yours.” He gives you a dark smile as he records you. Capturing all the lewd, wet sounds as he drives his cock into you, the euphoric smile that spreads on your face, and the words you know he always wants to hear.

“Mine,” he agrees.

……

You don’t see Joel again. And you don’t have time to dwell on the encounter anyway. Frankie keeps you busy and satisfied, and even surprises you by asking you to move in with him officially. Maybe it feels soon, but you spend nearly every day together anyway and the idea delights you.

It’s an easy transition. You downsize some of your duplicate appliances, joking with him about how he must have great taste for having so many of the same products. He admits that you inspired a few of his purchases.

You settle into a routine quickly, not much changes.

Sometimes in the early morning, when you slip out of bed in the dark to get ready for your shift, you wonder if it’s all real. If someone can care about you as deeply as you care about them. But by the time you’re showered and dressed, he greets you with a sleepy kiss before pulling on his usual workout attire and driving you to work.

You let your gaze linger this morning. Trailing along his profile as he drives, admiring all the details that you used to wonder about from the other side of the counter. His neck, those arms, his hands, those lips. They’re illuminated in flashes as you pass under the streetlights.

You catch the twitch at the corner of his mouth. He always knows when you’re looking. He rests a hand just above your knee. He always knows what you need. And idea takes root in your mind, and you do everything to stop yourself from smiling and giving yourself away. It’ll take a few days to organize. He’s almost impossible to surprise.

……

Later in the week, Frankie is on autopilot. Kicking off his shoes and pulling his sweaty shirt over his head before he lopes towards the ensuite for a shower. He only makes it a few strides before he’s on edge, noticing the lights he didn’t remember leaving on. He hears your voice. Relief and confusion twist together in his chest. How did you get back here before him?

Walking into the bedroom you are a sexy surprise wrapped in red lingerie he’s never seen you wear before, but something is wrong. Your shoulders are curled inward, your cheeks are wet, and you’re hastily tying up your matching red satin robe.

He scans the room, swallowing thickly when he notices the open coset door and the missing box on the shelf.

He calls your name softly.

“What is this, Frankie?” your voice shakes. Unsteady and wavering between fear and anger.

You hold up his phone. Well, his other phone. Shit.

…..

“Answer me,” you beg. Desperate for an explanation. For something to make sense. To understand how you went looking for the box with fuzzy handcuffs and instead found a phone with a new message from a number you still recognized.

Your heart is pounding in your chest and when he takes you into his arms you flinch. You want to shove him off of you. Despite your hostility, your body is still drawn to his. He always knows what you need. In his arms your heart feels tethered to his, like they could merge through the proximity of your rib cages. Like they beat for each other.

“You trust me, right?” he asks.

“Explain, please,” is all you can whisper.

“It was to keep you safe,” he starts.

“From what?”

“To protect you. Joel wasn’t good for you. He couldn’t take care of you. Not the way you deserve.”

“How would you know?” it’s still not making sense to you.

“You told me.” He’s so self-assured. Like, he’s always right. Like, he can’t even imagine why you’d be upset right now. “I did it for you,” he adds.

“Did what?” you need him to say it out loud. You need him to fix this.

“I know you thought Joel was trying, but he was only going to drag it out. Disappoint you over and over. Can you imagine what it would’ve been like for me to watch you go through that?”

You don’t answer.

“I couldn’t watch. I made him an offer, but he’s a stubborn man.”

You snort quietly at that understatement. Nobody tells Joel what to do.

“I just had to find the right leverage.”

Frankie holds you so tight, you can’t wriggle around to look him in the eyes.

“He couldn’t give you what you need, not like I can. I know what you need. And, think of how fast you got over him anyway. You were mine all along.”

You’re lightheaded. From the shock of finding the evidence. From his words. From the way you believe him. You want to sit down. You tap at his arms insistently, begging against his chest, but he keeps talking. His deep voice rumbling in your ears.

“You wouldn’t have understood it then. I had to keep it from you to protect you. So we could have what we have now.” He’s not listening to you. Not letting you go. It makes you snap.

“Let go of me!”

“You have to understand first.”

“I’ll listen,” you plead. “Just let me breathe.” He lets you step back, but doesn’t release you from his grip. His hands are glued to your arms. He waits, steady and chillingly calm.

Slowly, the pieces start to fall into place. The unanswered questions from your breakup. The way Joel completely vanished.

“I thought he just left,” you whisper to yourself.

“He did,” Frankie argues.

“I thought he didn’t want me,” you continue.

“He didn’t. Not the way that I want you.”

Something cold trickles down your spine and you look at Frankie. For a moment he’s a complete stranger. Your stomach sinks and your vision spins. Slamming your eyes shut you filter through your racing thoughts.

It wasn’t fate that led you into Frankie’s arms.

You wound up crying on his cock by design, trying to fuck away the pain of a heartbreak that wasn’t even real. You’ve fallen into a whole new life, while the man you had loved may have never stopped loving you back?

“You blackmailed Joel Miller?”

“Technically, it’s extortion.”

It’s all there on the surface. Exposed between the two of you. Who Frankie really is. Cunning and competent. Devoted and dangerous. Possessive and powerful.

“It worked, until he came to town for someone’s engagement party.”

“When we saw him at the store?” Frankie nods. “And then you sent him the video we made.”

“Hearing it from you seemed to do the trick. He knows you’re mine and you only want me.”

Frankie gives you time to study him. Absorbing the information. The gleam in his dark eyes. The same eyes from when he would visit you at work. Just as fierce and just as earnest.

You’ve always known him for his true self. He’s been yours since he first laid eyes on you. And he knew you needed him.

“And you did it… for us.”

“For you.”

You can see it plainly on his face. He’d do it again and again to have you. Because you’re his. It’s all you ever wanted. It has to be wrong, but it’s the hottest thing anyone has ever done for you.

You push him back towards the bed, climbing onto his lap in a recreation of the first night you spent together. It’s reflexive. The magnetic pull between you has your hips rolling in his lap as he’s already hardening beneath you.

“You’re sick,” you tell him before you lick a hot stripe up his neck.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he growls back before you’re crashing into him with a ravenous kiss.

dividers by @cyberangel-graphics

General tags 💗:

@lovely-vamp-princess

@gothcsz

@auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40 tags for folks who seemed interested when i shared a lil wip about it (aka no worries tags)

@hoelaris @punkseyes @ace-turned-confused @magneticecstasy @lotusbxtch

@bitchesuntitled

@baronessvonglitter

@thundermartini @milla-frenchy

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #ppcu fanfiction #frankie morales x f!reader

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smartkookiee · 2 months ago

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How to Lose A Guy in 30 Days! || Ch.1 — jjk.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀° ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: strangers to lovers, 18+ ❥chapter warnings/tags: software engineer!Jungkook, writer!Reader, flirting, drinking, nothing crazy happens in this chapter tbh, idiots, have fun (I’m so excited to see what everyone says, thank you to everyone for all the love on the teaser post!) ❥word-count: 9.4k ❥Series Masterlist ❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 - send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list. ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°

Day 0

“Y/N, can I see you in my office?” Yoongi’s voice cut through the ambient buzz of the office as he appeared at your cubicle. You blinked up at him, his request causing a ripple of curiosity among your surrounding coworkers, though no one dared to show it openly.

You hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing your mind. Was I in trouble? Did he hate my last research project? Your mind raced through the possibilities. Yoongi had praised your work just last week, but what if he’d changed his mind? The thought of him taking back his compliments made your stomach twist. With a sigh, you saved your work and rose to follow him. The walk to his office felt unnervingly like being summoned to the principal’s office in high school.

Though your colleagues barely glanced in your direction, the nerves still had your palms sweating. You tried to wipe them discreetly on your pants as you stepped inside his office.

Yoongi moved behind his desk with casual ease, sinking into his chair as though he hadn’t just rattled your nerves with his sudden appearance. You stood awkwardly for a moment until he waved you toward the chair in front of his desk.

“You can relax, Y/N. You’re not in trouble,” he said, his tone gentle but amused. It was clear he could feel the tension radiating off you.

“I know, I know. I’m just a worrywart. You know that,” you laughed softly, though it came out more anxious than you’d intended. “So… why did you want to see me?”

Yoongi leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the desk as he watched you. “I’ve have an assignment for you. Something better than your usual research work.”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued as he began rifling through the disorganized pile of files and papers littering his desk. You’d been at Composure for a while, mostly doing background research for other writers’ articles. But you’d been hoping for an opportunity to step out of the shadows, to prove yourself as more than just a behind-the-scenes contributor. Maybe this is it?

When Yoongi finally found what he was looking for, he pulled out an old magazine and dropped it in front of you with a soft thud. You glanced down at the cover, your eyes widening as you saw the issue was from 2003.

“How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days,” Yoongi said, leaning back in his chair with a knowing glint in his eyes.

You picked up the magazine and began flipping through it, skimming the pages until you found the article. A sense of familiarity washed over you—this was one of those interesting pieces people still whispered about around the office. “I’m confused.”

“This piece was a massive hit when it came out,” he explained, lacing his fingers together as he leaned back. “Lana, one of the higher-ups, was the editor at the time this particular piece came out. She brought it up recently, said she thinks it’s time for something like this to make a comeback.”

“You want me to do this?” you asked, still reeling from the audacity of the concept. You skimmed through the details, noting the original author, Andy. She had gone to extreme lengths to sabotage a relationship for the sake of the article. You couldn’t help but cringe at some of the tactics she’d employed.

“Not exactly,” Yoongi replied with a small chuckle. “The feedback back then was that the whole experiment felt a bit too unrealistic. Readers loved it and it was a funny read, but many thought they don’t do things this intense. Lana’s idea was to take the same concept, but… stretch it out.”

“Stretch it out?” you echoed, still trying to wrap your head around the idea.

“Yeah. Ten days is too quick for something like this. We want to make it feel more genuine. Instead of a mad dash to drive the guy away, we want to see what happens over a longer period. A month, maybe two. Let the tension build naturally.”

You leaned back in your chair, letting the idea swirl around in your head. It was ambitious, maybe even a bit reckless, but there was no denying it would be a challenge.. “So… you want me to date someone and—what? Subtly sabotage it over time?”

“Exactly. Actually date but do all the classic early relationship mistakes,” Yoongi explained, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the concept. “It’s an experiment in human behavior, relationships, and how much people are willing to overlook.”

“So like talking about something personal way too fast, or inviting yourself into their life way too quickly and then write about it?” you prattled on a bit, it was picking at the ideas in your brain in the right way.

Yoongi smiled, clearly pleased with your interest. “I brought this to you because you have more than proven yourself here. You’ve been doing excellent research, and I want to see how you handle something of this scale. Especially because this would be a feature piece.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the compliment, but there was still a question gnawing at you. ��I’m glad you are trusting me with something like this, especially with such a high-profile piece. But… I have to ask, sir—why do you think I’m the right person for this?”

Yoongi leaned forward slightly, his expression more thoughtful. “Because I want to challenge you. I like your research and I like how you write, you understand the people who read our columns on a deeper level. I think you have more in you. I want to see if you can handle something outside of your comfort zone.” His voice softened, but the weight of his words wasn’t lost on you. “And after something like this, I’d be more than happy to move you on to bigger and better pieces.”

The subtle hint of a promotion sent a jolt of excitement through you. “Really?”

“Really,” Yoongi confirmed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

It was all you could do to keep the excitement from bubbling over. An actual writing assignment, something that could elevate your standing in the magazine, was exactly what you had been waiting for.

“I don’t even know what to say other than thank you.”

You fidget with the magazine in your hands, resisting the urge to curl the edges. Your mind raced, trying to think of what a realistic timeline for the piece could look like—something ambitious, but doable.

“How about… How to Lose a Guy in Thirty Days? A longer timeline, more idealistic. A month in is usually when new relationships start to fall apart. It’s after the initial getting-to-know-someone phase,” you suggest, throwing the idea out there, hoping Yoongi would take the bait.

“Thirty days, huh?” He raises an eyebrow, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “You sure you’re up for it?”

“Yes, sir.” You nod, your confidence building as you think about the possibilities.

“Good,” Yoongi replies, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look. “Let’s start on Monday, after we get through this print run. That gives you a few days to find the poor guy.”

“Right. Thank you, Mr. Min.” You stand up, your heart racing as you try to play it cool. But as soon as you exit his office, you can barely contain your excitement.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you mutter under your breath as you rush to your desk. Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you start jotting down notes, pulling out sticky notes and scribbling ideas, trying to organize your thoughts.

Ronnie, sitting in the neighboring cubicle, leans back to peer around the divider, noticing your frenzied state. She rolls her chair into your space, sliding up next to you with a curious look.

“What’s got you in such a hurry?” she asks, raising an eyebrow as she watches you type furiously. A laugh escapes her when she sees the pen stuck in your mouth and the growing pile of sticky notes attached to the old magazine.

“I gob a columb,” you mumble through the pen, barely pausing your typing.

Ronnie plucks the pen from your mouth. “Try that again.”

“I’m writing my first column.” You repeat, finally turning to face her, your excitement breaking through.

“No way!” Ronnie stands, her voice a little too loud, drawing a few glances from nearby desks. She sits back down and grabs your shoulders. “That’s so awesome! Your first column! What’s it going to be about?”

You hand her the magazine, pointing to the title. “This.”

“How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days?” She raises her eyebrows in surprise, flipping through the article. “You’re seriously going to do this?”

“Well, not exactly the same,” you say with a grin, watching as she reads through the outlandish tactics in the original piece. “Just similar.”

Ronnie’s eyes widen as she reaches some of the more extreme parts of the article. “Okay, this is crazy, all the things this girl did to this guy. Oh my god.” She rocked in disbelief, continuing the read through. “Awe, ends bittersweet though.”

“It’s going to be How to Lose A Guy in Thirty Days this time.”

“A month?” She laughs and shakes her head, you give her a confused look.

“What? I can do this!” You bump her shoulder.

“Do what?” Namjoon strolls into your cubical looking between the both of you.

“Kid got her first column.” Ronnie sings she has a proud grin on her face. You spin around to look at Namjoon.

His face lights up at the news, “That’s so awesome! Congrats!” He rubs your hair messing it up, you bat his hands away smoothing out your hair.

“Thanks Joon.”

“What’s it on?” Namjoon leans against your desk along side Ronnie.

Ronnie hands him the magazine flipped open to the article. He takes it and examines it for a moment, he reads along and his eyes widen at times. You continue scribbling down some thoughts while he does this. Namjoon was a silent reader but would always share his full thoughts when he was done.

“Woah, this is wild.” Namjoon flips back to the beginning of the article, like he had to read it over again.

“I know the original one is a little insane but we are doing it differently this time.” You explain, Namjoon had concern written all over his face reading through the article again.

“Quote, ‘after five days I decided to go ahead and take things to the next level between us. I completely redecorate his apartment with pink attire and stuffed animals everywhere.” Namjoon reads the section out loud. “She only knew him for five days?”

You nod, “I don’t know how she was so brave to do all of that. Luckily Yoongi said I don’t have to be as extreme as this. Just more casually clingy and needy, do small things that most people think are normal but seem to send guys running before anything serious can begin.”

“Yeah, I definitely hope you don’t end up ‘photoshopping your baby pictures together.’” Ronnie adds with a grin.

You laugh, shaking your head. “God, no. I’d sooner die of embarrassment. I don’t have the energy for that level of crazy.”

Namjoon leans back in his chair, one eyebrow raised in slight concern. “So, what is the plan then? You’ve got something in mind, right?”

You sigh dramatically. “Not sure yet. I’ve got until Monday to find a guy and come up with some sort of idea of how I want to do this.”

“Oh, can we help?” Ronnie’s eyes light up as she bounces in her chair, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Help find the guy?”

“Obviously, and with the torture,” she adds, looking way too enthusiastic.

“I’m not torturing him,” you chuckle, “just… irritating him a little. You know, for research purposes.”

“Uh-huh.” Namjoon’s teasing grin softens as he looks at you, a hint of doubt creeping in. “But are you really sure you can do this, like… casually?”

You blink at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, come on,” Namjoon says with a snort, gesturing vaguely at you. “You wear your heart in a pink, sparkly basket for everyone to see. Are you sure you won’t fall for the poor guy instead?”

“I don’t do that! And I will not!” You protest, but Namjoon and Ronnie exchange a look that screams they definitely think you do.

“I’ve never seen you not get your hopes up after a date or two,” Ronnie says, shrugging sympathetically.

“Well, this time will be different,” you say, folding your arms defiantly. “It’s just business. I have to get the guy to break up with me anyway.”

They weren’t wrong, though, and you know it. You’ve always been one of those people who swoon at love songs and daydream about movie-perfect endings. You were the exact type of person this article was written for in the first place. You did get attached too quickly and were getting hurt too often. But this? This was just an assignment. A game. You wouldn’t get hurt if you knew it had to end from the start.

“You’ll see.” You add with more confidence, determined to prove them wrong.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Ronnie teases, rolling her chair back toward her desk. It was well past time for her to get to her own work.

Namjoon shakes his head with a chuckle. “Good luck to this guy, I guess,” he mutters, though there’s warmth in his voice. He’s seen you get your hopes up too many times to believe you could really keep things casual.

But this time, you were determined. No expectations. No daydreaming. It was all just work.

Across town, though, someone else was perfectly content with his easygoing, no-strings-attached lifestyle. Jungkook, waking up in someone else’s bed was just another morning for him. He opened his eyes but was blinded by the morning light. He rolled over and looked around, he had no idea where he was. Memories of last night vaguely coming back to the front of his mind.

He looks over to see a sleeping girl in the same bed. He stands from the bed and manages to find his phone. Seeing the time.

“Shit.” He rushes to find his scattered items and puts his clothes back on. Tip toeing his way around the room and manages to get out the front door without a fuss.

Getting out of the building, Jungkook blinked as the morning sun hit him square in the face. He rubbed his eyes, still groggy from a less-than-restful sleep. Scanning the unfamiliar streets, he had no idea what neighborhood he was in, but that was par for the course these days. He pulled out his phone and called for an Uber, slipping his sunglasses on as he waited.

Another late night, another random bed. This wasn’t exactly new territory, but he couldn’t help feeling off. Normally, Thursdays were a quiet night in, but when Jimin and Taehyung wanted to go out, Jungkook wasn’t about to turn them down. And, as always, the night had ended the way it usually did for him—blurry and chaotic.

By the time Jungkook made it to the office, it was later than he would normally prefer to arrive. Slipping through the doors, he did his best to avoid attention although Hoseok’s keen eyes were already tracking him. Jungkook tried to get settled quietly, but it was pointless. Hoseok’s desk, conveniently right next to his, made stealth impossible.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Hoseok sang, swiveling in his chair to grin at Jungkook. He tapped a few keys on his keyboard, then gave Jungkook an exaggerated once-over. “Did you lose a bet, or is that last night’s shirt?”

Jungkook smirked as he slid into his seat. “Hey, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but in yesterday’s clothes. What’d you do? Roll straight from the bar to your desk?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow, clicking away on his mouse as he pulled up their latest coding project.

“Pretty much,” Jungkook admitted, booting up his own computer. “I’ll head home at lunch and change. No one cares what I wear to debug.”

Hoseok shook his head with a laugh. “You’re gonna blind the clients with your wrinkled t-shirts one of these days.”

“Fair enough,” Jungkook chuckled, typing in his password. “But I’m still better at the code reviews, so they can’t complain too much.”

Hoseok conceded with a nod, leaning back in his chair. “Rough night?”

Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck. “You could say that. Taehyung and Jimin were relentless. Didn’t stop until the bar kicked us out.”

“Ah, classic,” Hoseok said with a grin. “They never know when to quit.”

Jungkook smirked, though he felt the exhaustion settling in his bones. “They’ve got energy for days, man. But, hey, what about tonight? You in?”

Hoseok hesitated, glancing at the lines of code on his screen before looking back at Jungkook. “Again? You don’t look like you’re dying to go out tonight.”

Jungkook chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I mean, I’m wrecked, but you know I’m down. Someone’s gotta keep Taehyung from getting us banned from another bar.”

Hoseok shook his head, clearly amused. “I dunno, man. I might actually take it easy tonight. Jimin’s been texting like he’s planning another big one, and I don’t know if I’ve got the energy to babysit.”

“You? Too tired to party?” Jungkook teased, raising an eyebrow. “Weren’t you just complaining last week that we only go out when you’re drowning in deadlines?”

“I didn’t say I’m backing out,” Hoseok defended, though his reluctance was obvious. “I’m just... thinking about it.”

“Thinking about it, my ass. You’ll be there. I’ll text Jimin, tell him to go easy on the plans.” Jungkook turned back to his monitor, his fingers flying over the keys as he opened the project files for their current assignment.

Hoseok chuckled. “Yeah, alright. But if I show up and Taehyung’s dancing on tables again, I’m leaving early.”

“Deal,” Jungkook said with a grin.

Then Hoseok’s smirk deepened, and he shot a glance at Jungkook. “By the way, has she called you yet?”

Jungkook frowned, glancing sideways. “Who?”

“Channel. She’s been texting me. Again.” Hoseok’s grin turned into a mock look of annoyance. “Seriously, bro, how is she still hitting me up to ask about you? You need to fix that.”

Jungkook groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I made it clear we’re done.”

“Well, apparently she didn’t get the memo. She asked me yesterday if you were ‘okay,’ like I’m your personal messenger or something.”

Jungkook sighed, his fingers stilling on his keyboard. “I haven’t heard from her in weeks. She’s probably fishing for info, trying to get back in touch. She wanted something serious, and I was always upfront about keeping it casual.”

Hoseok raised an eyebrow. “And she didn’t take that well?”

“She acted like she understood, but... yeah, not really. I broke it off before things got messy.” Jungkook sighed. “Now she’s bugging you instead.”

“Lucky me,” Hoseok muttered. “She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. But seriously, dude, she’s asking me if you’re, like, in a dark place or something. I think she’s hoping for a window to swoop back in.”

Jungkook groaned, leaning back in his chair. “Tell her I’ve joined a monastery.”

Hoseok laughed. “Sure, I’ll let her know you’ve taken a vow of silence and reflection.”

The rest of the morning flew by in a blur of coding and testing modules. By the time lunch rolled around, Jungkook had managed to convince Jimin to keep the plans for the night low-key—just a few drinks at a bar they liked. Hoseok seemed more on board with the promise of a relaxed evening, and Jungkook was glad. As much as he loved the chaos, even he was feeling the need for something calmer.

When they arrived at the bar that evening, it was more crowded than they’d expected. The hum of conversation, laughter, and clinking glasses filled the air, and the warmth of bodies packed in tight hit them as they wove their way through the crowd.

“So much for a quiet night,” Hoseok muttered, dodging a couple who were clearly several drinks in.

Jungkook grinned, nudging him. “Come on, it’s Friday. What did you expect?”

“Less people and more chairs,” Hoseok replied, though the grin on his face said he wasn’t too upset about it.

Jungkook laughed, scanning the bar for a spot to settle in. Despite his earlier exhaustion, he could feel the pull of another night out with his friends, the familiar buzz of energy creeping in. There was something about the chaos of it all that he couldn’t resist.

“Over here!” Jimin’s voice cut through the noise, his arm waving above the sea of people as he flagged them down. He and Taehyung had already secured a table in the corner.

Jungkook and Hoseok exchanged a glance before making their way over, dodging elbows and weaving past groups of friends clustered around the bar. As they reached the table and took their seats, Hoseok let out a deep sigh.

“Jesus, there are so many people here tonight,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe I should have stayed home.”

Jimin smirked, leaning back in his chair with his drink in hand. “Aww, come on. It’s been forever since we’ve been out together.”

Jungkook chuckled, patting Hoseok on the shoulder. “It was definitely a struggle convincing him to come tonight.”

Hoseok held up his hands in surrender, a playful grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Hey, I was promised a chill night with some drinks. That’s my kind of Friday night.”

Before anyone could say more, Taehyung appeared at the table, balancing a tray of drinks with ease. “Here you go, gentlemen,” he said, passing them around with a flourish.

A round of thank-yous followed as each of the guys took their drinks. Jungkook took a long sip, letting the cool, bitter taste of his beer settle on his tongue as he leaned back in his chair, finally starting to relax.

“So,” Taehyung said after a moment, turning to Jungkook with a curious smile, “where did you disappear last night, man?”

Jungkook barely had time to respond before Jimin interjected, his tone teasing. “Where do you think he ran off to?” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows in fake suspicion.

The grin on his face made it clear he was referring to Jungkook’s extracurricular activities.

Taehyung snickered, shaking his head. “Oh, I see. Anything to tell? Did you find the love of your life?” His voice was full of amusement as he took another sip of his drink.

Hoseok snorted, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, right.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes playfully, tipping his head in Hoseok’s direction. “Hey, you never know.”

“Sure,” Hoseok said with a laugh, bumping Jungkook’s shoulder. “I’m sure she felt some kind of deep connection.”

Jimin waved a hand in Hoseok’s direction, dismissing him with a grin. “Leave him alone.”

But Hoseok wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. He shrugged, glancing around the table. “I mean, as long as I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him be serious with someone.”

Jungkook felt the familiar twist in his gut at the comment but didn’t let it show. It wasn’t that he didn’t want something serious—it just hadn’t happened in years. He took another sip of his beer, trying to brush off the remark. He had become somewhat comfortable in his solace and easy hook ups. Last thing he had to something serious was what he had with Channel, and that wasn’t even hardly serious.

Broke it off because she changed her mind about what she was wanting from him, Jungkook just really didn’t see a future with her and had always made his feelings about their relationship clear. He really came off looking like a dick but he didn’t want to drag her along. He didn’t want to drag anyone along.

“I can be serious when I want to be.” Jungkook took another sip of his beer.

“Yeah for like a day.” Taehyung teases.

“Not even, more like an afternoon.” Jimin jumps on him with a laugh.

“Try thirty minutes!” Hoseok adds on to the end before Jungkook waves them all of.

“Thirty minutes?” he raised an eyebrow, “Give me more credit than that.”

“Fine, thirty-one.” Taehyung added on with another laugh.

“Whatever,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Make your jokes but I don’t see any of you pulling in any serious relationships these days.” Jungkook points the top of his bottle around the group.

“Hey, I have a date next week I’ll have you know!” Hoseok protests.

“This isn’t about us though, this is about you.” Jimin sits back in his chair.

“What about me?”

“You’re not a relationship guy.” Taehyung sipped his beer.

“I’m comfortable by myself.” Jungkook crossed his arms.

“Nothing wrong with it, I just doubt you could ever be serious with someone.” Jimin shrugs.

“I’d be a better boyfriend than you.” Jungkook kicks Jimin's leg under the table.

“Yeah maybe when you’re fifty and decide it’s time to settle down.” Taehyung gives Jungkook a smirk.

“No way, I bet I could be a better boyfriend than all three of you.” Jungkook was getting too serious and Jimin and Taehyug smelt a challenge in the air.

“Wanna bet on it?” Jimin cocks his head to the side. It wasn’t unlike the three of them to make bets and they were always stupid.

“Aren’t we a little too old for bets?” Hoseok looks between the guys but he could already tell once Jimin raised the question, Jungkook was already locked into the idea.

“What are you thinking?” Jungkook leans his elbows on the table.

“I will bet a hundred dollars, that you couldn’t keep a girlfriend for more than two weeks.” Jimin states and Jungkook almost feels insulted.

“Come on, I can do better than that.” Jungkook goats Jimin, Jimin looks at Taehyung.

“I’ll buy in. 200 bucks.” Tahyung jumps on it.

“You guys are morons.” Hoseok shakes his head, Jungkook was up for the challenge but two weeks was insulting.

“No, I can keep a partner around for way longer than two weeks. Come on.”

“Okay, how about a month. We’ll make it 300 bucks if you can stay with the same girl for one month.” Jimin jumps on it, between him and Taehyung they would only be out one fifty each.

“But we get to pick who it is.” Taehyung quickly tacts on that little stipulation.

“What? No fair.” Jungkook pouts.

“Totally fair. Hobi weigh in on this.” Jimin nods his head to Hoseok who was hoping to stay invisible but it seems he has been brought on as the referee.

“I guess it makes sense, if you pick the girl it makes it too easy for you to win.” Hoseok logics it out but this definitely wasn’t starting to feel fair.

“Ugh fine.” Jungkook groaned, Jimin had extended his hand for a shake, Jungkook took it and they shook on the deal.

“Again, idiots.” Hoseok knew this was probably going to crash and burn and Jungkook would be out three hundred bucks. Jungkook was feeling very confident though and perhaps a little too competitive. He felt sure he could sucker these two out of three hundred bucks. As well as get to hang out with a pretty girl for a while. Putting on all of his best charm.

“So when do we start?” Jungkook looks between them.

“How about right now?” Jimin taps his glass.

While that played out, across the same bar, you were sitting at a booth with your friends.

Catching Jin up on your new promotion at work and your upcoming column to be. The bar was buzzing with life, the noise blending into a background hum as you spoke, but you could feel the excitement rising between you all.

“No way,” Jin’s face lit up as he scanned the photos of the old magazine article on your phone. You had snapped a few pictures to give him the full story, and now he was reading it with wide eyes, barely containing his amusement.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” Ronnie took a long sip of her cocktail, her expression still skeptical. She shook her head as if she still couldn’t wrap her mind around what you were planning. “I mean, I seriously can’t believe you’re going to go through with this.”

“Look,” you began defensively, though a smile tugged at your lips, “I know it’s a little out there, but Yoongi really thinks I can do this. He has his full faith in me.”

It was true. Despite the fact that this assignment would push you far outside of your comfort zone, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement and determination. It wasn’t going to be easy, but you were confident you could handle it.

Jin, still holding your phone, read aloud with a dramatic flair: “A friend of mine made a good point that I shouldn’t allow him to have a boys’ night, so I decided to get a key from his landlord to interrupt their game night!” He glanced up with an incredulous look. “She really got a key from his landlord? That’s insane!”

You snatched your phone back, eyes wide. “Okay, I’m not doing that!” you exclaimed, shaking your head. “I’m just going to be clingy, needy. I’m not breaking into anyone’s house!”

“Good for her, honestly,” Namjoon chimed in, cracking open a peanut from the bowl in front of him. “The guy she picked probably deserved it.”

Ronnie nudged him with her elbow. “Didn’t you read the end? She ended up falling in love with him! Realized she was wrong and that he didn’t deserve all that treatment.” Ronnie leaned back in her chair, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Classic.”

“Of course, she did,” Jin chuckled, taking another sip of his beer. His eyes flicked back to you, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “That’s totally going to be you.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I will not.”

“Please,” Jin said, laughing. “You’re such a gooey romantic. You fall in love so easily.”

Namjoon and Ronnie exchanged knowing glances, both trying—and failing—not to laugh. They knew better than anyone how quickly you could get swept up in a whirlwind of emotions. It wasn’t that you were naive, just hopelessly, undeniably romantic. And they were somewhat concerned about how this whole assignment might play out.

“Look, this is a professional column,” you said, crossing your arms defensively. “It’s not like I’m actually looking for anything serious. I just have to scare him off. That’s it.”

“Either that or he will be on bended knee by the end of it.” Namjoon teased.

“Very funny. That’s why I have you guys here though, help me pick someone.” You really did want some help on this part. If you got help picking the guy then maybe you could pick someone who it would be easy to let go of.

“How so?” Ronnie tilted her head at your request.

“Well knowing my luck I would accidentally pick a guy who is totally perfect for me and I really won’t be able to go through with it. If you guys pick then you could objectively find someone who is someone I would never go for.” You clap your hands together, hoping your explanation is enough.

“Oh I’m so in.” Jin rests his chin on his hands. “Plus this bar is packed, we could easily find someone tonight.”

“Well we won’t find him sitting here. Let’s go fish.” Ronnie stands from her seat offering a hand to you, Jin following close behind. The three of you taking a turn about the bar, making observations at some of the different groups that were here.

“Let’s see.” Ronnie taps her lips with her pointer finger and glances about the room as the three of you search from person to person. “Okay, guy at the bar. Sweater, cheesy and obviously cheap silver necklace.”

You and Jin both take a glance over to him, he seemed to be here alone. Looked nice enough, maybe a good choice. He seemed like a jock type, looked like he was trying with his looks a little too hard. You were considering it before Jin shook his head.

“Not him, hes rubbed his ring finger like four times.” Jin points, just at that moment the guy does it again, “He’s either married or just got divorced and looking for another wife. Next!”

“Touche.” You agree and the three of you glance around again. “Okay, how about that guy?”

You point to a small group of guys who seemed way deep into a game of pool. One of the guys sinks a cool shot into one of the pockets and he and another guy cheer too loudly, you were far away and you could still hear them. He looked like he was about to break his pool stick from excitement.

“Nevermind. Way too intense.” It would have been a good choice but you would probably end up dumping him before you could get any work done.

The three of you run through a few more guys as you walk around, all three of you seemed to find some reason to veto them again and again. Some were too close to your type and some were just too annoying for you to be able to stand them long enough to keep this ruse up.

“God slim pickings tonight.” You were getting exhausted. You were considering heading back to Namjoon at the table and coneiding for the night. Maybe sleep it off and try again at another bar tomorrow.

“We can do this.” Ronnie cheers trying to keep your spirits high. “This guy is here, I just know it.” She had had more to drink at this point, she's a pretty energetic drunk.

“I agree. No throwing in the towel yet.” Jin scans the room again, you guys had moved to many different spots and more people had moved in and out of the bar at this point.

Jin looked around from guy to guy. Jin frequented this bar often so he had a general sense of the people who were new and the people who frequented here often. He wasn’t sure himself who would work for this, they had to be the perfect combination of nice enough to stick it out but still a playboy or asshole enough that you wouldn’t fall for them. Someone who maybe deserved a little bit of torture. Someone who needed a little due karma.

He waited for a moment, maybe all three of you just needed to let the guy reveal himself. Before Jin thought it was hopeless was just when he got exactly what he asked for.

Jungkook was making his way over to the bar.

“Bingo.” Jin whispered. Jungkook had left the table with his friends, the booth was tucked away in the corner so it was no wonder he didn't notice them before. “That’s the guy.”

“Who?” You ask and then Jin points his finger, tracking Jungkook to the end of the bar. You watched him order from the bartender and then casually wait for a moment.

“He’s perfect.” Jin was confident.

“He’s cute?” Ronnie nods, Jin rolling his eyes at her. “What am I wrong?”

He was very cute you thought, he sported this leather jacket and dark jean look. Large boots, it wasn’t your usually clean cut look that you enjoyed but you understood the appeal of it.

“Okay why him?” You ask looking at Jin.

“I’ve seen him here a lot. Always comes with a group of friends, but he never leaves alone. Never the same girl twice. I thought he stopped coming around, but nope. Looks like he’s still at it. His name’s something like Jungkook.” Jin places both hands on your shoulders, looking you dead in the eye. “Total Casanova. Leaves behind a trail of broken hearts.”

Ronnie raises an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t that make it harder to keep him around for thirty days?”

“Not necessarily,” you say, the wheels turning in your head. “I just need him to dump me within thirty days. He doesn’t have to stick around for all thirty.”

“Longest I saw him entertain a girl for was maybe two weeks? That’s exactly what you need.” Jin shakes your shoulders and you laugh at the movement, almost dizzy after your two drinks.

A playboy type who can’t commit for more than two weeks. It was exactly what you needed, and lucky for you you wouldn’t need to feel bad about maybe annoying him too much. You needed him to dump you no matter what. Could be fun after all, messing with a guy who is a fuckboy that Jin has seen around could be almost a perfect karma for this guy.

“Perfect.” You say with a sly smile as you watch him walk back to his group balancing a few drinks in his arms along the way.

Jungkook managed to set the drinks down gently, “Here you go boys.”

He passed the drinks outs but Jimin and Taehyung were deliberating about something. Jungkook looked between them and looked to Hobi for confirmation. Hoseok wasn’t totally sure what their hushed conversation was about.

“I don’t know, seems like he could make that work too well.” Jungkook could barely make out the sentence coming from Tae.

“No it has to be someone like that.” Jimin adds on and then they both seem to come to some silent agreement. Both sitting up straight in their spots.

“What are you two whispering about?” Jungkook breaks the silence and they both have big grins on their faces, Taehyung is looking over the back of the booth to the bar.

“Okay we have made a decision.” Jimin puts on an announcer voice, holding his glass like a microphone.

“You picked someone? Already?” Jungkook was surprised they had come to an agreement on this so quickly.

Taehyung looks back to Jungkook and nods, “Over there, short maroon dress. Waiting at the bar. Has a tall guy and another girl, dark hair and black dress with her.” Taehyung points and Jungkook looks.

It takes him a moment, but then he spots you, mid-laugh about something with your friends. A small smile tugs at his lips—you were undeniably cute. There’s something polished about the way you’ve styled yourself, striking a balance between playful and sophisticated. To Jungkook, though, you scream commitment. Your look isn’t meant to turn heads; it’s just confident. It’s a stark contrast to the more overtly flirty, bold style he usually goes for. That makes him curious—why would Jimin and Taehyung pick someone who seems so... relationship-minded?

“Her really?” He looked back at both of them. “Do you want to just hand me the three hundred dollars now?”

“I know you think it will be easy, but that is the type of girl who wants marriage. I think her need for a commitment is going to send you running.” Jimin rubs his hands together evilly.

Jungkook looks back to you again, thinking. Jungkook felt like he could very well be committed, he could do it probably better than most people. He just hasn’t wanted to or hasn’t had the time too.

“I will be Mr. Marriage Material from here on out.” Jungkook downs the rest of his beer, “Be ready to put your money where your mouth is.”

Jungkook stands up and leaves the table, they watch him go to work. Taehyung was now nervous and Hoseok was not even sure what he was watching anymore. Also confused by Jimin's choice.

“Okay, I gotta say he has a point.” Hoseok leans back to Jimin.

“Yeah now I’m kind of nervous.” Taehyung rubbed his neck, watching Jungkook who was waiting for an opportunity to maybe get a chance encounter with you. The two friends hovering around you weren’t making it easy.

“Trust me. I’ve seen that girl here before.” Jimin smiles.

“Do you know her?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow to him, now even more curious.

“Not at all, but I tried hitting on her once. Very sweet, turned me down though. Seriously, the moment I walked up she read me like an open book.” This was earlier this year and Jimin didn’t care, he had some personal things going on and did it on a whim. You immediately saw through his tactics and called him out on it.

“What did she do?” Taehyung became nervous.

“I tried hitting her with a line, and she just looked at me and laughed. Honestly, I might’ve been offended if she hadn’t been so sweet about it. She even apologized! Said she could tell I wasn’t serious. Sent me on my way before I could even react. I swear, I was a little dizzy afterward.”

“Oh wow.” Hoseok is putting the pieces together now. “Okay, I see, so she is going to see through Jungkook right away.”

“Exactly,” Jimin raises his glass, “If he gives off even a whiff of insincerity. She won’t give him the time of day. She very clearly wants someone who is into the long term relationship game and Jungkook… never will be.”

“So you’re not concerned, not even a little bit?” Taehyung asks one more time.

“Not even slightly.” Jimin clinked his glass against Taehyungs.

“So how is this going to work?” Ronnie looks between you and Jin.

“I’m not sure. What else do you know about him?” You look to Jin for advice on this. You came here sometimes but you weren’t as much of a frequent flier as Jin.

“Hmm, unfortunately I usually see him hit on girls who are more… obviously here for something casual.” He gestures towards another girl at the bar, she was dressed very differently than you were. More revealing, nothing wrong with that but it was starkly different to your look.

“So maybe it's a lost cause?” You frown.

“Absolutely not.” Ronnie protested waving her hand back and forth.

“Just means you might have to be the bold one. Instead of him coming to you, you go after him.” Jin nodded and rubbed his chin.

You stifled a laugh, “Yeah right.” Not like you couldn’t approach someone but it was still nerve racking. “I can’t do that.”

“It’ll be so easy. Looks he’s already coming over to the bar.” Ronnie nodded her head in his direction very subtly. You take a look from the corner of your eye and it was true. You turned your head pretending to see something else but catching a glance at him standing at the end of the bar, waiting.

Jungkook sees you look his direction and pretends to be occupied with something else.

“Okay well if this is going to work, shew.” You wave your hands for the both of them to head back to the table, you take an empty spot in front of the bar.

“Do you really think she can go up to him?” Ronnie nudged Jin, both of them push their way back to the table where Namjoon had been waiting.

“Definitely. Well… normally I’d say no but she’s so determined I think she can pull it off.” Jin looks back at you ordering another drink.

Once they both make it back to the table Namjoon takes notice, “Did she find someone?”

“Yes, he’s so cute.” Ronnie gushes.

“Too bad she has to get rid of him.” Jin shrugs as they all take their places and watch you from afar.

“I know.” Ronnie sighs.

“So what’s the plan?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow.

“She’s working up the courage to go up to him. I’ve seen the guy around before and he’s not really into her type. So she has to be bold.” Jin explains again, he looks over to Jungkook.

Jin takes notice that Jungkook has already noticed you. He finds it odd for a moment before he sees Jungkook start to move.

“Unless…” Jin starts.

“Oh looks like he’s making a move.” Hoseok gestures over to Jungkook. He pushes himself off the end of the bar to start moving to you but gets cut off by a group moving close to the bar.

“Let the games begin.” Jimin raises his glass. “We might make our money tonight.”

“Cross our fingers.” Taehyung chuckles and takes a sip of his drink.

“If he doesn’t blow smoke out of his ass you guys might be in for a long month.” Hoseok tilts his head watching Jungkook try to maneuver his way over to you. You were just barely getting a drink from the bartender.

From their end of the bar, your friends could see it happening in real time—Jungkook making his way toward you, not without some difficulty from the proximity of other people. They couldn’t help but laugh at his struggle.

“God, he’s like a moth to a flame,” Jin chuckled, crossing his arms. “Poor guy doesn’t even know what's going to happen.”

“Doubt it,” Ronnie added, leaning forward. “Y/N’s got this in the bag. He won’t know what hit him.”

Meanwhile, you weren’t so convinced that Jungkook was actually coming for you. After all, the girl beside you fit the typical type he seemed to gravitate toward—flirty, dressed to kill, and definitely giving him the look. Still, you had a plan brewing in your mind. If he wasn’t going to make the first move, you’d force his hand.

With a slight pivot on your heel right as he came up, you forced your shoulder into his chest. Just enough to stumble.

“Oh my god.” You gasp, steadying your drink that had split on your hand, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t spill on you did I?”

Jungkook’s initial reaction was a mix of surprise and awkward laughter. “Hey, no problem,” he said, chuckling. “Just missed the splash zone.”

“I swear I have two left feet these days.” You tuck some of your hair behind your ear. Faking your embarrassment, setting your drink down and getting a napkin.

“Well it’s a good thing I have two right feet.” Jungkook easing the tension and you laugh under your breath.

“You always this quick on your feet?” You tilted your head, offering him your hand—the one free of any cocktail spillage. “I’m Y/N.”

“Jungkook.” He took your hand with a grin, his gaze flickering over you like he was sizing up a challenge. He didn’t let go right away.

Now that he was closer, you could really take him in. He was infuriatingly attractive—the type you’d usually avoid for your own good. The type who knew he had an edge and knew how to use it.

Now that Jungkook could get a closer look at you, he just thought that you were pretty. Pretty hair, eyes, lips. All of you was just pretty and sweet. Could see that pink glowing heart of yours on your sleeve.

“What brings you here?” He leaned an arm against the bar, his stance casual yet deliberate, like he was marking his territory. His gaze pinned you down, leaving you no room to escape.

“Just out with friends, a celebration of sorts.” You turn and point to them, the three of them suddenly acting like their drinks were so interesting to look at.

“What’s the occasion?” He didn’t even glance at them; his focus was still fully on you. The intense eye contact actually makes you nervous.

“My promotion,” Smiling like it was the full truth. Or rather, the promotion standing right in front of you.

He nodded, flashing a grin. “Congrats. Big deal?”

“Very big.” You rested your hand on the bar near his, just brushing the surface between you. “What about you? Out celebrating something too?”

“Just out with friends.” Jungkook gestured back to his own group at the other end of the bar. You followed his gaze, recognizing one of the guys, though you couldn’t place from where.

“I should let you get back to them.” you teased lightly, leaning ever so slightly away from him.

He tilted his head with a grin, clearly not interested in letting you go that easily. “Why rush? I wasn’t planning to be gone long, but then I got the wind knocked out of me.”

You smirked, feeling the heat of his gaze on you as you playfully patted your shoulder. “Just practicing for my football career.”

“Not a football fan but I’d watch those games.” Jungkook was going to make some form of physical contact, which is what he would have done by now but he held back. He could tell that’s not something you would appreciate.“Let me buy you another one. Since you lost half of the that one because of me.”

“That’s very sweet.” You wanted to test the limits you had with him here, would he chase you? “But I should get back. My friends may think I ran off.”

“So soon?” He tilted his head at your sudden retreat.

“You seem nice,” You start and lean close, “I think I’m just looking for something… more serious.”

“Who's to say I’m not serious?” He gives you a puzzled expression. Jungkook had done so good with women lately that it felt strange to see such a sudden retraction.

You tilted your head, a teasing smile playing at your lips. “I’ve seen you around. I know your type.”

A lie. Considering you hadn’t seen him before tonight, you wanted to see if he would bite.

“So you’ve noticed me?” He stuck his tongue into the side of his cheek.

“I’m just saying I know your type.”

“What if I am serious? You’d be running away before you could find out.” He flirted, a boyish grin on his face that dripped confidence. He was actually nervous, and the three hundred dollar bill hanging over his head was adding some pressure.

You giggled, leaning back slightly as you took a slow sip of your drink, eyes locked on his over the rim. “You don’t strike me to be serious about much of anything.”

His gaze flicked to your lips before returning to your eyes, his voice softer now, “What if I want to prove you wrong?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Prove me wrong? You barely know me.”

He smirked, stepping a little closer, just enough to make the air between you crackle with tension. “Isn’t that half the fun? Getting to know someone new?”

“What makes you think I want to get to know you?”

“Call it intuition.”

Any other time, a guy like this coming up to you would have meant an immediate shut down from you. They were never serious, and they only ever wanted to hook up and never speak again. Tonight though Jungkook needed to be the bug caught in your web.

You pretended to mull it over, tapping the rim of your glass with your finger. “Hmm... cute line.”

“Not a line,” he shot back, more serious now. “But seriously, let me buy you a new drink?”

You were about to decline, but his eyes held yours, that quiet confidence making you hesitate just a second too long.

“Fine,” you said, sighing like you were giving in, but the small smirk tugging at your lips told him otherwise. “But you’re still going to have to work for it.”

“I plan to.” Jungkook leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping. “Let me get your number. I’ll take you out, show you what I mean by serious.”

You fake contemplation and act like you really needed time to think about it, sucker. You tap the rim of your glass for a moment before you reach your free hand out to him, gesturing for his phone. Jungkook takes the silent victory and pulls his phone out, opening it for you. With a few quick taps and your contact information solidified in his phone.

The deed had been done.

“Don’t disappoint me,” you said, handing it back, your tone playful but carrying an edge of warning.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Have a goodnight Jungkook.” Turning on your heel leaving him there and just letting him watch you go. You b-line straight back to your table.

Jungkook was feeling good and felt like this was going to be a breeze of a month. He had to make sure that first date went well first. He would put on his best boyfriend face forward, it’s not that he couldn’t do it like everyone thought. It’s just been a long time since he last had the chance too.

He made his way back over to his own table, he put on a fake sad face as he took his seat back next to Taehyung.

“Strike out did you?” Hoseok patted him on the shoulder in comfort.

“Yeah… struck off the first day of the month.” Jungkook raised his phone, revealing your phone number. Jungkook, a smug grin on his face.

“I’m surprised.” Jimin sat in quiet contemplation, “But it won’t last.”

“She’s cute. You guys should have picked more carefully.” Jungkook sighed, looking back into the bar in the direction of your friends and your table. Your back was to him so he couldn’t catch a glimpse of you.

He then remembered he still owed you a drink.

Across the bar you settled back in with your friends.

“I caught the whale boys.” You take a small bow and small cheers round around the table.

“Congratulations.” Namjoon cheers you, hitting his glass with yours.

Your friends leaned in, eager for the play-by-play of your encounter. You gave them the rundown. Ronnie, the first to break the silence, grinned and raised his glass in admiration.

“That was smooth, Y/N. You had him wrapped around your finger.”

You chuckled, taking a slow sip of your drink. “It’s even better that he thinks he’s in control. There's no way he was actually serious but a fun flirt.”

Jin shook his head, a mixture of amusement and awe on his face. “You’re scary when you’re confident. I’m glad I’m on your side.”

“So what’s the next step in this little experiment of yours?” Ronnie asked, clearly invested in the unfolding drama.

“Well,” you began, swirling your drink in thought, “I wait for him to reach out. Then I’ll play it cool on the first date, get him comfortable.”

“Why play it cool?” Namjoon asked, eyebrows raised.

“Because,” you smirked, “if I’m too much, too fast, he’ll bolt. But if I ease him in, I’ll have time to start slowly being weird.”

Just then, a waitress appeared, sliding a pretty pink drink in front of you. “This one’s from the guy across the bar,” she said, nodding toward Jungkook, who was leaning against the counter, already watching you. “He said you’d know him.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the boldness. Lifting the glass slightly, you gave him a small, acknowledging wave, your friends immediately picking up on the gesture.

“What’s it called?” you asked, eyes still locked on Jungkook.

The waitress grinned. “It’s a Cosmic Encounter.”

“How pretty.” you muttered, a playful smirk forming. You brought the glass to your lips, not breaking eye contact with Jungkook as you took a sip. The sweetness of the drink contrasted sharply with the building tension between the two of you.

If the circumstances were different you may let yourself swoon at the gesture. Picking a cute drink for you. You may try to see if you really could get him to be serious. This was not that though, this was all business and you would have to continue to remind yourself.

Ronnie was the first to speak up again, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I’ll admit, he’s got moves.”

“Just don’t forget this is what he does.” Jin knowing how you are, felt the reminder needed to be put out there. That this is all temporary.

Just as you were about to continue, your phone buzzed softly in your hand. A text. Your eyes drifted down to the screen, and sure enough, it was Jungkook.

Jungkook: Hope you like it… when are you free next?

You couldn’t help the smirk that spread across your lips. “Speak of the devil.”

Namjoon leaned over. “Already? He really wasted no time.”

“Faster than I thought,” you admitted, typing a quick reply.

:We’ll see, Jungkook. Maybe I’m busy.

The thrill of the chase was intoxicating, and as you sent the message, you could feel the game picking up speed. Both of you were circling each other, waiting for the right moment to strike.

You had no doubt, you were going to eat Jungkook alive.

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megwritesriddles · 13 days ago

Text

In the Middle of the Night (In My Dreams!) ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 21 - Somnophilia. Riddle has to figure out a way to keep Reader happy and covering for his ever increasing duties outside of the castle. What initially starts as a transaction escalates when they're both more willing than he expected, leading them to explore the slightly more forbidden together.

Tags: Somnophilia (consensual), Mildly dubious consent, Fingering, Hand jobs, Oral sex (f and m receiving), Friends with benefits, Denial of feelings, SoftDom!Riddle, HeadGirl!Reader, Manipulation, Faking an illness (chronic fatigue is very real, he's just a lying POS, only briefly mentioned).

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Word count: 5.1k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Okay so despite this poll (sorry), I edited this into a less dark kinktober fic and will then release a much darker (non-con elements) part two after I finally finish kinktober!! This works as a stand alone if you're not into reading that kinda stuff (which I totally understand, ily dw)!! It just felt too dark for kinktober... even tho I literally have non-con as the prompt for day 25.... idk okay!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

PART 2 COMING SOON !! (but works as stand alone)

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

The moment the two of you had been announced as Head Boy and Girl at the start of the year, Riddle knew he had to get on your good side. Not only for the purposes of professional engagements and living in the same quarters but also because there would be a lot he’d need from you. Last year, he had found a flaw in the enchantments around the castle, discovering that apparition in and out of the castle was in fact possible, so long as you did so from the room of requirements. He has started attending to business outside of the castle regularly, rallying supporters in closed-off magical communities, among trolls and elves. He also searches for artefacts and researches dark magic when he finds the time, visiting isolated collections owned by old eccentrics who he is able to charm easily. He’s made himself a busy life outside of Hogwarts which he’s determined to keep up in order for his plans post-graduation to go as smoothly as possible. Which is where you come in.

He leaves for these expeditions every weekend, but obviously, he’s not actually allowed to leave the castle. He has to ask you to cover for him if anyone asks where he’s gone. He concocts a rubbish story about having chronic fatigue and having to rest all the time he can, and that he can’t possibly be disturbed while he’s resting as he’s taking special potions for sleep. It’s all a lie, playing on your empathy, which he knows you have droves of, something you are widely admired for. He tells you that he’s horribly embarrassed about it and doesn’t want anyone to think he’s incapable of being Head Boy because of it, so asks you to cover for him if anyone asks about him. You give him those big sympathetic eyes and agree, workshopping a litany of excuses with him. He almost feels bad with how seriously you’re taking this, how much you want him to feel okay, even though you’ve never liked him much before. Almost. It won’t happen a lot either way, he’s told his ‘friends’ that he will be out of reach and very sternly told them not to question, so they won’t poke around, and anyone else who needs him won’t need him often. He makes a show of being very tired in the evenings in the common room the first few weeks you live together. Soon after, he drops the charade and you don’t seem to notice the falsification happening right in front of you, continuing to cover for him every now and then when it comes up. You even comment optimistically that he seems more energetic lately, to which he smiles.

“I suppose so, yes, it must be that I can finally get the rest I need, thanks to you,” he says smoothly, proud of himself for taking this as another opportunity to keep you pliable. You seem overjoyed to be helping.

In return, he keeps you sweet. At first, he merely observes you to get an idea of what might keep him on your good side. Then, he starts showing up for you. He brings your favourite pastries from breakfast (you have a bad habit of sleeping in, which sometimes makes him wonder how you got this job, but alas), accompanied by a coffee just how you like it. Complimenting you whenever you try a new hairstyle or dress up nicely on weekends. The first time he’d done it, he’d commented on a trim you’d gotten to your hair over the weekend in Hogsmeade. You were baffled, saying no one had noticed a thing all day. He sensed that you found the fact that he was the only one to notice odd, but he couldn’t help being observant. He told you as much, and you just smiled. He makes sure to do any favours you ask of him, so you can’t throw his refusal back in his face in case you want to stop helping him, he needs something to hold over your head. It’s never much, perhaps helping you with a bit of schoolwork, listening to a speech you’ve prepared for Head duties or just jostling the logs in the fireplace of the common room when the flames die down. He’s surprised you don’t ask for more, considering that he starts asking for a lot from you.

His schedule outside of Hogwarts gets complicated, requiring him to head out occasionally in the middle of the week. You always cover for him, insisting to professors that he’s ill in bed, even though it’s clear by now that you’ve realised he’s actually missing during these periods. Your enthusiasm over helping him out has dwindled as you get the sense you’re being played, but he treats you well enough that you seem to assume the best intentions. How naive. Having someone so respected by the professors, the head girl herself, lying for him, he knows, is the only reason he’s been getting away with it for this long. He’s ‘sick’ far too often and never seen at the hospital wing, never requesting any medicine or showing any symptoms. He wonders what you think he’s doing when he’s away, doubting you could guess the truth, but you never ask despite your increasingly suspicious looks, which he appreciates. He likes you, you’re discreet, a surprising trait for such a goody-two-shoes as you are. He spends more and more time with you in the common room in his free time, charming you and winning you over, making sure he’s there if you need a favour or a ‘friend’ to talk to. He finds you to be intelligent and likeable, you’re funny, even if he prefers a bit of a darker humour than you have. There are silences as you sit together where you stare at him while he works on whatever schoolwork he deems most important that day, he knows you’re formulating all sorts of theories, your brain turning as you try to make a guess.

“I appreciate you being discreet,” he says simply one night as you sit together, working separately on assignments. The statement is followed by a silence in which he is tempted to look over at you to see your reaction but resists the urge.

“I don’t suppose you’ll ever tell me what you’re up to?” It’s meant to be a question, but it comes out as a statement. You already know he won’t, and he knows it too. No matter how good you’ve proved to be about covering for him, if you knew the true nature of what he was up to, you’d run. Tattle before even letting him explain, which really wouldn’t help either way. He turns to you, extending an arm.

“Come here,” he nods his head in his direction. You look confused, and he doesn’t blame you for feeling that way, he isn’t affectionate with anyone. He makes a point of never being seen as being soft, which is easy given he isn’t soft for anyone. But he knows the type you are, so sweet and kind, the type that you can be won over with a little affection. There’s no one here to see either of you anyway, he can risk it this once. You slowly scoot into his side and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. He brushes an errant strand of hair from your face and holds you to his side. “I really do appreciate it, I’m always here if you need anything from me,” he whispers. You look up at him and nod. “Good,” he hums. You spend the rest of the night pressed into his side as you do your homework, it’s odd, but he’s warm and solid, and most girls at Hogwarts would kill to be in your position, so you let it be. It becomes a fairly frequent scene, the two of you snuggled up by the fire, especially as the days grow colder and colder. His hands like to wander, brushing places they probably shouldn’t, but you never stop him or say a word, letting your own hands wander a little too. You don’t talk about it, not with him or with anyone else. You know without words that he doesn’t want it to leave the room. It’s just another secret you have to keep for him.

He starts having the need for more frequent meetings with his little group of in-school followers, the Knights of Walpurgis, as his plans get closer and closer to their time of fruition. The Head Common Room is the perfect place to host, spacious and completely secret, except for from you. He knows he has to sweeten the deal once more to have you leave the common room for long periods in the evening. So one night, while the two of you study together snuggled up, he kisses you. You’re alarmed but immediately kiss back. He knew you would, every girl in the damn school would, but it still feels like an unexpectedly simple triumph. His hand grips your jaw, not allowing you to move away, not that you’re trying to. Your hand gently cups the side of his neck, keeping him close as his tongue carefully breaches your lips, slightly surprised by how willing you are for him. He has a multitude of things he’s considered doing to you, but for tonight, he has to stick with something focused on your pleasure. He doesn’t mind, pleasuring you is an act of domination in its own right. By the end of the night, he has you sat between his legs, your back to his chest as his fingers thrust in and out of you. You squirm and mewl in his ear, your head thrown back on his shoulder, as he holds you securely with an arm around your middle, fucking you on his fingers. He’s high off of the fact he has you completely nude apart from your socks before him, while he’s still fully dressed.

“There we go, darling,” he purrs in your ear, gently pressing his lips to your jaw. “I bet you’ve wanted this for quite a while, haven’t you?” he teases, grinding the heel of his palm against you as his fingers press in and out. You must have, given how quickly you’d let him strip you down, manoeuvre you into the position he wanted, just how soaking wet you’d been from a couple of strategic words of praise. He’d wrongly assumed you’d be a little more prudish, but he was pleasantly surprised otherwise. “I want you to do something for me,” he whispers, slowing his movements a little so you can focus on his words. You whine softly in protest and he smirks. “Tomorrow evening, could you make yourself scarce for… let’s say three hours? Starting from… six thirty?” his fingers caress your inner walls torturously lightly, almost tickling, making you squirm unhappily.

“Where would I go?” you exhale.

“Library? Walk the grounds? Astronomy tower? I don’t mind, darling, as long as you’re not here,” he kisses behind your ear softly. He expects some questions or protests, but none come, only a simple nod. He’s a little surprised how easy things are with you, although it may have a lot to do with how his fingers are currently buried deep in your cunt at present, he concedes to himself. But you’re always easy, always helpful, so willing to give him the benefit of the doubt even though you were more than smart enough to know better. “That’s a lovely girl,” he smiles against your skin. He hesitates, unsure whether to reveal the transactional nature of his kindness toward you, but he feels he must assure you somehow that it will be worthwhile. “I’ll reward you accordingly, I promise. You’ll hurry back to me at nine-thirty, won’t you? I’ll be missing you by then,” he purrs, trying to further pull the wool over your eyes with some flattery. He straightens up to look down at you, your head still resting back on his shoulder. “Won’t you?” he prompts again, kissing your forehead. You nod, giving him a pleading look and bucking your hips helplessly. You want him to keep going, feeling half-insane from his unmoving fingers filling you up.

And that he does, finger-fucking you through two mind-blowing orgasms that night, showering you with ever more ridiculous praises as the night goes on. It’s unclear whether you’re losing your mind to the pleasure and not understanding him, or if he’s just spewing every compliment he can possibly think of. Once you’re thoroughly debauched, he helps you into your bed as your legs are too shaky on their own, laying you down and kissing you goodnight with a slightly stilted tenderness. You watch him in quiet confusion as he retreats from your room, feeling satisfied and yet completely confused.

It becomes a bit of a routine, whenever he needs you to stay away from the common room, or otherwise go out of your way for him, he pulls you into his lap in the evening and tugs down your underwear, pleasuring you expertly. Soon, it becomes harder to tell, as he begins to get you off every night, whether he’s after something or not. You don’t know if it’s just his efforts to make sure you don’t forget to think of him positively, you’re far from oblivious to the fact you’re being bribed, or if he’s just enjoying it at this point. He stretches out your encounters more and more, especially when you start returning the favour, using your hand on him while he does the same to you. You’re pleasantly surprised how aroused he gets just from fucking you on his fingers, always at least half-hard by the time you can get your hands on him. When he introduces his mouth into the equation, you’re sure he’ll be asking something big of you soon. But he doesn’t, nothing new comes up, other than you also beginning to use your mouth on him. He seems to love it, so you suppose it must have been motivation enough. He likes to take his time, to make you feel helpless and desperate, not seeming to care if it leads him to spend long periods of time kneeling before you, which was something you were certain he would have never been caught doing for anyone.

It’s a nice relationship in Riddle's opinion, he gets off and he gets what he wants from you. You make yourself scarce and Riddle is able to conduct his meetings in peace in a perfect setting. Whether you’re using mouths or hands, it’s always intensely pleasurable. He grows attached to the sight of you on your knees before him, his cock deep in your mouth as you look up at him with those wide innocent eyes. You’re amazing with your mouth, and usually willing to get on your knees whenever he’d like you to. It’s a perfect arrangement in this way. He loves to hold you down and make you scream using nothing but his tongue. Some of his friends say that eating out a woman is demeaning, but he never feels more powerful than when he has you crying and begging. He loves to make you beg, long-forgotten is the fact he’s meant to be doing this just to keep you sweet, just to manipulate you into helping him. He’s lost in it now, and no matter how selfish he gets in bed, you keep covering for him, seeming to misinterpret him as generous rather than intensely power-hungry. It works well for his purposes, so he lets you think of him as a giving lover.

He’s a little surprised that you haven’t asked for any exclusivity or any indication of whether he’s bringing in other girls at the times he asks you to keep away. He’s not, of course, but he doesn’t understand why you don’t care to ask. He tells himself that it doesn’t matter, but deep down it does bother him, every other girl he’d ever been involved with, even briefly, had asked to be his one and only. You’re a sweet girl, the type he assumed would fall in love with him the moment he first got his hands on (and in) you, but you haven’t indicated this in any way. He knows you’re not seeing any other men because he keeps an eye on you whenever he can. Even having gone so far as to cancel a meeting with a tradesman in Diagon Alley to stay back and watch you while you think he’s away. Nothing. You go about your day as normal, come back to the common room and curl up to read your book. Just before bed, you attempt to get yourself off and fail, pouting through your night routine. You can’t do it without him, he notes smugly. He wishes he could come help, but he can’t without revealing his spying. By the time he gets back legitimately, you’re fast asleep. Given all of this, he still doesn’t understand why you’re not asking him for a commitment. It’s not that he wants to commit to you, he doesn’t like the idea of being tied down, even if he currently has no interest or energy to pursue anyone but you, but the fact you haven’t asked drives him nuts. You seem happy to get off with him and go to sleep without asking a single question. He lingers in your doorway, watching your frame rise and fall under your blanket with slow breaths, wondering about you.

He’s surprised when you bring it up. How you’d felt his presence in your doorway while you’d been asleep, despite not being fully awake. He explained that he’d been wanting to help you out (his own evasive phrasing) but that you’d been visibly asleep so he’d left instead. At your expression, he asks you teasingly if you’d have liked him to do it anyway, his teasing smirk only growing when you blush and nod. And so a system was set, he tells you to sleep on the sofa in the common room if you’d like his attention during the night, as he has a habit of waking up in the middle of the night to fetch water. You agree and you proceed together like normal for the next few days, pleasuring each other in the evenings when he isn’t busy. Every night, even on nights he wasn’t actually waking up naturally, he would come into the common room to check for you. For a long time, you’re not there, and he’s a little frustrated with you. Why dangle such a tantalising idea in front of him if you never meant to go through with it? He’d been a perfect gentleman, telling you that you could say no if the idea made you uncomfortable, but at the time, you’d seemed apprehensively excited about it, yet now, nothing. His eyes stay glued on your door as he goes about getting his water each night, wishing he could go in there. He tries his best not to show his disappointment when he spends time with you in the daytime, not wanting to come off as pushy and drive you away. He needed you to like him, staying on your good side was non-negotiable and pushing you on a matter like this was generally frowned upon. About a week and a half later, he trudges from his room to top up his glass and sees a lump under a blanket on the sofa. It’s you.

He immediately slows and lightens his footsteps, not wanting to wake you as it would ruin the fun. He hadn’t had time for you the last four days, between increasing stakes when it came to schoolwork and closing in on a magical artefact outside of it, he’d been gone for everything but class and sleep. He creeps over to you, seeing your peaceful face squished against the velvet throw pillow. You must have missed him, he thinks, since you started your little mutual arrangement you’ve never gone more than two days without each other before, mostly because Riddle found himself quite insatiable. He’d always told himself he was uninterested in matters of the flesh, that he enjoyed indulging but could easily control himself, and that he was only doing what he was with you to manufacture a sense of closeness and keep you in the palm of his hand. Yet, he had to admit that he doesn’t usually go so far for the purposes of manipulation and that he never would have done this in the first place if he hadn’t found you attractive. He was unwilling to sacrifice his own happiness for his manipulation, beyond a bit of necessary flattering drivel. So when he’d allowed himself into this arrangement, even simply under a pretence, he had quickly lost control of it and become ravenous for the sensations you could offer. He watches your parted lips as you breathe softly. Gently, he rolls you onto your back, waiting to see if you wake. You don’t. He slips the plush blanket down your body and exposes you to his eyes. You’re dressed in a sweet feminine nightgown and he finds the look to be sweet on you, fitting. You were a perfect thing to corrupt. Yet, he smirks to himself, you had agreed to this, you were already corrupted, so desperate for him that you wanted him even in your sleep. Surely you did want exclusivity from him, you were just trying to appear laid back to not scare him off. You could be endearingly shy like that at times. Yes, you agreeing to this was surely evidence that you wanted more from him than you had. That you needed him.

He slowly and cautiously shifts you around until he can settle comfortably between your legs. His hands run up and down the soft skin of your thighs, keeping a close eye to see if you stir. He wonders if you’re really such a heavy sleeper, or if you’re merely pretending not to have woken for his benefit. At the moment it doesn’t matter to him, you seem asleep enough, and if you are conscious, you’re hardly objecting. He pushes up the hem of your nightdress and grins at the sight of you already bare for him, with no underwear in sight. Naughty girl, he thinks to himself as his hands skim up and down your inner thighs, leaning forward to press a soft kiss just above the little patch of hair shielding the part of you he wants most. He would love to tease you and draw it out more, but he doesn’t want you to wake before he can explore the more intimate aspects. He carefully lies down, guiding one of your supple thighs over his shoulder, spreading you open for his eager eyes. You’re already a little wet, he wonders if it’s from his teasing now, or perhaps your dreamy anticipation. He knows he can get you wetter easily. He uses two fingers to gently spread you open even more, revealing the sensitive pearl nestled within your folds. He blows lightly on it, making you twitch a little. He grins.

Still trying to let you stay asleep for now, he leans in and very gently touches his tongue to your bundle of nerves. You sigh softly in your sleep but don’t seem to wake. Your dreams are turning sticky-sweet, you begin to feel warm and floaty, but you’re not conscious enough to register this change properly. You squirm slightly and moan as his tongue gently swirls around your clit, not touching to keep you just bubbling below waking. Your breath is hitching softly, and little noises are leaving your throat. He can tell you’ll wake soon unless he stops, but he figures he doesn’t mind. He wants to see your face when you wake up to his head between your legs. Will you be shocked to start with? Or immediately eager and accepting? He was oddly thrilled to discover this. Your hands slide away from where they rested on your stomach, trying to grab something as he starts to lap at you just a little faster, your breath hitching a little more, exhaling shakily. He’s surprised you’re still asleep, he’s tempted to use legilimency on you to discover what you’re dreaming of. Your face is flushed and your lips parted blissfully, so he figures it’s something nice. His tongue slides up and down between your slick folds, the familiar taste of you spreading across his tongue as you become more and more aroused. He gently kneads the skin of your hip, pulling you a little closer to his mouth, trying to coax you awake without startling you too much. Your eyelids flutter, but you remain asleep, whimpering quietly. He focuses the tip of his tongue on your clit, making the stimulation just a little more intense, watching for your reaction intently. Your fingers tangle into the crumpled blanket by your side, curling into the plush material, and he knows you're on the very verge of wakefulness. He smirks, gently suckling your clit into his mouth.

This rips a loud moan from your chest, which in turn makes your eyes snap open. You try to sit up, blinking blearily, looking a little bewildered, trying to make out shapes in the dim moonlight, to understand why you feel lost in a haze of pleasure. Riddle's hand moves, splaying out on your stomach, pushing you back down and holding you there. Your eyes snap to him, he grins up at you from between your legs, looking unbelievably smug, his eyes glinting in the light of the moon. The sight of him between your legs, the knowledge of what he’d been doing while you’d been sleeping, coaxes another moan from your lips. He eases up a little now you’re awake, going back to gentle teasing licks against your bundle of nerves. Your heart pounds and you breathe rapidly, partially reeling from the sudden awakening, but mostly just feeling amazing. You lie back against the sofa, trying your best to get your bearings while he continues smothering you with unrelenting bliss. He pulls back for a moment, though he instantly replaces his mouth with his fingers, not giving you a moment to think.

“Naughty girl, sleeping without underwear to give me access,” he purrs, his voice rumbling in a self-satisfied manner. You giggle sleepily. You had done that, hadn’t you? He smiles up at you. “Was it a nice awakening, my darling?” he murmurs smoothly, leaning back in to continue his dedicated licks. You whimper softly, your hips twitching before he holds you solidly in place, tutting against your sensitive skin.

“The best awakening, so unbelievably arousing,” you whisper, your voice hoarse, watching him work his magic between your legs. He hums against you. He knows this of course, this was quite possibly the wettest he’d ever had you, only increasing since you’d woken up and become conscious of what he was doing. Your hands slide into his short curls as he works, usually, he might complain about this, but you’re still a little sleepy, and he decides to let it go. You sigh pleasurably, your hooded eyes locked on him. His eyes look up to meet yours as he begins to suckle on your clit once more. Intense pleasure floods over you, your head lolling back, your hands tightening slightly in his hair. You let out a string of desperate moans, moans he’s become intimately familiar with over the past few weeks. You’re close and he intends to get you there, to show you how much you need him, to remind you that you can no longer achieve this alone, if you ever could. He doubles down on his actions, gripping your hip a little tighter to keep you firmly in place. “Oh… Tom!” you plead, trying to grind your centre up into his face. You could get so desperate sometimes, Riddle tuts to himself. “Please,” you beg, anticipating his desire to tease you and hoping to get ahead of it. You need this, badly, he hasn’t been around to help you for days, and the scenario was driving you mad with lust. He’s uncharacteristically gracious, not relenting, continuing to lavish you with exquisite sensation, building you up and up. You look down again, and as his eyes meet yours, the coil in your belly snaps. Your whole body tenses, your back arching off of the sofa, a guttural cry escaping you. He holds your hips in place, continuing his assault as you ride out the climax. Tears gather in your eyes and you feel a little humiliated by how intensely this is affecting you.

After several desperate sobs, you finally collapse back, your hands slipping from his hair. You take several deep breaths as he withdraws from between your legs, sitting up to look down at you. He grabs a tissue from the coffee table, wiping his mouth and discarding it haphazardly. You smile tiredly, and you feel exhausted by your sudden wake-up, but completely heavenly at the same time. You stare at each other for a moment. It’s an oddly domestic moment. You’ve never seen him in his pyjamas before, a matching shirt and trousers, made of silk or some other such soft material, the type that’s popular with the rich Slytherin boys. His hair is a little curly naturally, this you did know from him getting back to the common room on rainy days, but is now slightly messed up from your hands in it. You cover yourself back up, tugging the hem of your nightdress back down as he watches. He looks almost sweet, he has been sweet to you, in his own way. He reaches over and touches your flushed cheek, rubbing it softly with his thumb, unsure whether he’s trying to prove his effect on you, or just wishing to touch you.

“I’ll have to think of something to ask of you in exchange for doing that,” he jokes a little unnaturally. You laugh honestly.

“You didn’t already have something?” you tease, moving to sit up. He smiles, enjoying the way you see through him, just enough to prove you’re not stupid, but not enough to compromise any plans. Perhaps that’s why you haven’t asked for exclusivity with him, you’re not stupid like the others, whether you want it or not being irrelevant to the facts. The facts that were feeling more like theories lately.

“No, believe it or not,” he chuckles, pushing your hair behind your shoulder. “But it’ll be easy enough to think of something,” he pulls you onto his lap and kisses you goodnight. “You always find a way of being useful,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

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genshinluvr · 2 months ago

Text

Dating App

Pairings: Various Love&Deepspace Men x reader

Summary: Tara approaches your cubicle one day at the Hunters Association, asking about your relationship status. Of course, that is a complicated question to answer. Little did you know, you're matched with some familiar faces who are friends, coworkers, and lackeys to the men you're interested in.

Note: I had to delay this fanfic because I was dealing with some personal conflict, and it kept my thoughts occupied, so I could barely type anything for this fic. This is my first Love&Deepspace fanfic! Please be kind because some of these characters may or may not be out of character. Hopefully, the more I write Love&Deepspace fanfics, the more I will get the hang of it and capture their personalities just fine :'> Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (also Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of

Word Count: 6.3k

It’s a slow day at the Hunters Association, and you’re in your cubicle typing away on your computer. Usually, you’re killing Wanderers and are assigned to countless perilous missions, but this week, you’re working in the cubicle doing paperwork. Your eyes feel strained from staring at the monitor for so long that you have to look away, or else you’ll get a pounding headache. That is something you don’t want to deal with alongside Zayne’s lectures if you end up having to visit Akso Hospital.

Footsteps approaching your cubicle pull you out of your thoughts. You see Tara’s head peeking from behind your cubicle. A big smile plasters on her face as she rests her arm on top of your cubicle.

“Hey, [Y/N],” Tara says, her brown eyes twinkling with mischief as she lays on her arm. “Working hard as always?” She teases.

You stop typing on your computer, smiling at your dear friend and coworker. “Hi, Tara! Yes, I’m trying to get these documents completed and turned in to Captain Jenna before the deadline. Is there anything you need?”

Tara hums, shaking her head. “Not really, but I am curious about something…” She trails off, tapping on her chin, her eyes wandering around while trying to look nonchalant.

“Oh? Then it must be really important for you to approach me in the middle of work.” You joke before continuing typing away on your computer.

Tara lets out a long, wistful sigh. You continue your work, only for Tara to let out a frustrated huff. She releases another sigh, but louder this time to get your attention away from your computer. “I’m worried if I ask, you wouldn’t answer because of how personal it is,” Tara says, crossing her arms over her chest and jutting out her bottom lip.

You quickly save your documents before pushing your chair back, turning to give Tara your full undivided attention. You lean in your chair, curious about what Tara wants to ask you— something personal, of course, but her comment piqued your interest. “Tara, we’re friends. You can ask me anything you like! I’m more than happy to answer your pressing questions.”

Tara’s eyes light up, but she quickly fixes her composure, trying to act like it’s not a big deal. “It’s… about your relationship status and whether you’re seeing anyone,” Tara says, pretending to check her nails while occasionally looking at you from the corner of her eyes.

Your eyes widen at Tara’s response. Your relationship status? While you don’t mind telling Tara about your relationship status, you wonder why she asked all of a sudden. She’s not planning on setting you up on a blind date, is she?

You press your lips into a thin line, unsure how to answer her. You’re technically not dating anyone as of now, but there are four people in particular who have been occupying your thoughts 24/7. Is Tara going to ask you about your relations with any of them? Tara taps her nails on the cubicle as she waits for your response.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “If I have to be honest, I’m not sure,” you reply.

Tara stares at you, her mouth agape. Tara knows that you’re quite close with Xavier, your mission partner. But she’s also aware of Rafayel’s feelings for you, as you are his bodyguard. Then there’s your primary care physician— a cardiologist named Zayne. He’s a nice guy— a little dry, but nice nonetheless! Oh! Let’s not forget this mysterious man you once brought to karaoke with your coworkers. He’s definitely not the best singer, but he is quite the looker! What’s his name again?

“What are your thoughts on dating apps?”

You blink at Tara, letting her question slowly sink in. Dating apps? You turn to your computer and scratch the back of your neck. What are your thoughts on dating apps? You’ve never been on one before, nor do you plan on registering for one. Who knows how many weirdos there are on those dating apps?

You visibly shudder. “I don’t plan on being on dating apps, Tara. Besides, as a Deepspace Hunter, I don’t have time for dating apps. I’m always going on missions,” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest.

“But the great thing about dating apps is that you don’t even have to meet the people you match with! Who knows, maybe you’ll meet the love of your life on a dating app,” Tara shrugs her shoulders, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

You turn to your computer, shaking your head at her suggestion and comment. You’re not against dating apps, but it’s not for you. Besides, you have a bigger fish to fry, and that is getting the paperwork and documents completed before the deadline. You briefly tell Tara that you’ll think about it just to get her off your back about your dating life. Semi-satisfied with your response, Tara walks away. How do hunters have time to go on dates? Especially if you’re a higher rank and constantly go on dangerous missions? Your schedule is unpredictable, and you don’t have as much time as you wish you did.

You slump forward in your seat and rest your head on your hand. The quiet sound of your coworkers tapping away on their computers isn’t loud enough to drown out the questions running through your mind. While the suggestion of going on a dating app is tempting, you’re not interested in meeting anyone, especially if they’re from the internet.

☃︎⋆꙳•❅*ִ Zayne ☃︎⋆꙳•❅*ִ

Zayne looks up from his computer to see Dr. Greyson entering his office. Zayne sighs and adjusts the glasses on the bridge of his nose as he continues to type away. Footsteps approach Zayne’s desk as he continues to type away on his computer, too busy to see what Dr. Greyson is up to.

Dr. Greyson clears his throat, trying to get Zayne’s attention, only for the cardiologist to briefly look up at the anxious man before continuing what he’s doing. Zayne slowly turns his head, his eyes still glued to the monitor.

“Is there something you need, Dr. Greyson?” Zayne says, finally looking away from his monitor and at Dr. Greyson.

Dr. Greyson clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “How are things going with you and Miss Hunter?” Dr. Greyson asks suddenly.

Zayne stares at Dr. Greyson quizzically, raising his eyebrows at the brown-haired cardiac surgeon. Things are going fine with you, but why does Dr. Greyson want to know how things are going between you and him? Dr. Greyson continues to almost anxiously stare at Zayne, waiting to hear Zayne’s response.

Zayne sighs, takes his glasses off, and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Everything is going fine between us, Dr. Greyson. Why are you suddenly interested in my relationship with her?” Zayne questions, putting his glasses back on.

A look of surprise flashes across Dr. Greyson’s face, almost like he’s caught off guard— his cheeks and ears turning dark red. That doesn’t look good. Zayne raises his eyebrows at Dr. Greyson’s reaction and crosses his arms over his chest. Dr. Greyson briefly looks down at his phone, then back at Zayne, visibly flustered. Dr. Greyson’s strange reaction and action causes Zayne’s eyes to swiftly dart down to the phone in Dr. Greyson’s hands.

Zayne clears his throat, grabbing Dr. Greyson’s attention. “Is there something I need to be aware of?”

Dr. Greyson presses his lips into a thin line, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand while glancing down at his phone again. For some reason, Dr. Greyson’s strange behavior and his constant looking down at his phone bothers Zayne. Zayne gets up from his seat and walks over to where Dr. Greyson is standing with his arms still crossed over his chest.

Without saying a word, Dr. Greyson shows Zayne the screen of his phone. Zayne takes Dr. Greyson’s phone from his hands and inspects the screen. Dr. Greyson has an app opened on his phone; it’s a dating app… huh, Zayne never thought that Dr. Greyson would be on a dating app.

“What am I supposed to look at aside from your being on a dating app?” Zayne asks Dr. Greyson, raising his eyebrows at the brown-haired cardiac surgeon.

Dr. Greyson’s eyes widen before quickly snatching the phone from Zayne’s hand, tapping away on the screen before returning the phone to Zayne. Zayne raises his eyebrows at Dr. Greyson’s strange behavior before proceeding to look at Dr. Greyson’s phone. On the phone’s screen shows a text conversation between Dr. Greyson and you. Zayne furrows his eyebrows, scrolling through the text message between you and Dr. Greyson. Why are you on a dating app? Zayne hesitantly clicks on your icon, opening a small window to your dating profile.

The profile contains a lot of your personal information, from your name to your age to various selfies. Some information provided on your dating profile is a little bit strange, and there are some things Zayne isn’t even aware of. Wait a minute, why did Dr. Greyson swipe right on you?

Zayne slowly looks at Dr. Greyson from the corner of his eyes, almost glaring at his assistant. “You swiped right on [Y/N], I see,” Zayne says nonchalantly.

Dr. Greyson’s eyes widen. “O-Oh, I wasn’t the first one to swipe, actually. You see, she swiped right on me first, and when I swiped, we ended up matching,” Dr. Greyson sputters, rubbing the back of his neck while his face turns a few shades redder than it already is.

“You still swiped on her, Dr. Greyson. It doesn’t matter who swiped first; you still swiped right when you saw [Y/N]’s dating profile,” Zayne comments, his grip slightly tightening around Dr. Greyson’s phone.

Zayne doesn’t know how to react. On one side, he’s almost angry that Dr. Greyson swiped right on you, and on the other side, he feels hurt. Almost betrayed in a way, but this dating profile of yours feels off. Without thinking, Zayne takes a screenshot (well, multiple screenshots) of your dating profile, from the information to the images and the conversation you and Dr. Greyson are currently having.

He sends the screenshot to himself, ignoring the questioning gaze Dr. Greyson sends his way. After Zayne’s shift ends at Akso Hospital, he’s going to be stopping by your apartment to confront you about your dating profile and conversation with Dr. Greyson. Zayne laughs bitterly before handing the phone back to the flustered Dr. Greyson before returning to his desk.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ Xavier ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

At Philo, Xavier is watering the plants around the floral shop, assisting Jeremiah with his shop. It’s a slow day, and only a few customers pop in and out of the shop to buy flowers. Xavier’s supposed to be at the Hunters Association, but instead, he’s at Philo doing other tasks that have nothing to do with finding the Aether Core. Plus, Jeremiah dragged him out of bed, and he did not appreciate it at all. While Xavier’s watering the flowers and plants around the shop, Jeremiah enters the floral shop with his eyes glued to his phone, typing away. Jeremiah looks up from his phone, admiring the rearrangement of the floral shop.

“It’s looking good in here so far! You know, if you weren’t a Hunter, you would be a decent florist,” Jeremiah jokes, walking toward Xavier.

Xavier ignores Jeremiah’s comment and proceeds to walk to the front of the floral shop, placing the watering can on a nearby table. Xavier pulls out his phone and starts playing mobile games, completely disregarding Jeremiah’s presence as the curly-haired man walks toward Xavier.

“So… how are things going between you and [Y/N]?” Jeremiah asks suddenly, leaning against the table beside Xavier.

Xavier continues to play on his phone, not taking his eyes off the screen. “Everything’s fine between us. I saw her two days ago at the Hunters Association,” Xavier replies, his eyebrows scrunching up as he tries to kill the monsters on his phone.

Jeremiah slowly nods, crossing his arms over his chest while still holding onto his phone. After the brief pause between Xavier and Jeremiah, Xavier pauses his game and looks at Jeremiah, raising his eyebrows. Jeremiah taps his foot on the ground, fumbling with the phone in his hands, causing Xavier’s eyes to dart down to the device.

“It’s good to hear that things are fine between you and [Y/N]...” Jeremiah trails off, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “There weren’t any arguments between you two, right? Everything is fine and dandy?”

Xavier looks at Jeremiah weirdly, wondering why his friend has a sudden interest in your and Xavier’s relationship. Xavier slowly nods his head in response to Jeremiah’s strange question, still confused about Jeremiah’s interrogation and strange reaction. Silence hangs in the air between him and Jeremiah, and no one is saying anything.

Xavier points at Jeremiah’s phone, “Why are you twirling your phone around like it’s a fidget toy? Are you okay? You’re acting strange— even more strange than usual,” Xavier says, tucking his phone into the pocket of his hoodie.

Jeremiah presses his lips into a thin line, debating how to explain to Xavier what has popped up on the dating app he recently joined. “What would you do if the girl you’re interested in has a dating profile?” Jeremiah asks.

“I don’t know how to respond to that question. Does a girl you’re interested in have a dating profile or something? What is going on? I’m confused,” Xavier sighs, running his hands through his hair as he leans on the table behind him.

Jeremiah lets out a frustrated sigh before shoving his phone in Xavier’s face. Xavier takes a step back and grabs the phone from Jeremiah’s grasp, trying to look at what caused Jeremiah to be so frustrated (aside from Xavier’s obliviousness). Xavier looks at Jeremiah, confused. Jeremiah raises his eyebrows, wondering why Xavier had the opposite reaction from what he imagined.

Xavier holds up Jeremiah’s phone to show that he is on the home screen. Jeremiah snatches the phone from Xavier’s hands before clicking on a pink app. Jeremiah then places the phone back in Xavier’s hands, pointing to what he was implying about not long ago.

Jeremiah scratches the back of his head, looking elsewhere because he does not want to see the reaction on Xavier’s face. “[Y/N] is on this dating app I recently registered on, and we matched. I wanted you to see that your… beloved… is on a dating app,” Jeremiah says, clearing his throat.

Dear god, the tension is so thick that he feels like he might suffocate. A million thoughts race in Xavier’s mind as he scrolls through the messages between you and Jeremiah— the conversation is flirty, needless to say. Xavier clicks on your profile picture, and your dating profile appears on the screen.

There is a lot of information provided on your dating profile, including what you look for in a man; there are eight pictures of you at the Hunters Association, selfies of you and your coworkers at the Hunters Association, and many other things that make Xavier’s head want to spin.

“Hey, Xavier, are you okay?” Jeremiah asks, placing his hand on the distraught man’s shoulders. “I understand you’re upset about [Y/N] being on a dating app, but—”

“You matched with her on the dating app?” Xavier interrupts, turning to Jeremiah with a glare.

Jeremiah looks at Xavier with wide eyes, his mouth agape, unsure how to respond. Yes, he indeed matched with you on the dating app. But does that really matter? You, Xavier’s lady, are on a dating app for fucks sake!

Jeremiah awkwardly clears his throat, “I matched with her because she swiped on me, alright? Besides, I wanted to investigate why she’s on a dating app when she’s with you— well, I assume you two were together.”

Xavier continues to stare at Jeremiah, unamused. Jeremiah thought that Xavier was going to be upset over you being on a dating app, but apparently, he’s more upset over the fact that Jeremiah swiped right on you. Jeremiah sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose while Xavier continues to not-so-subtly glare at him.

Xavier looks at the screen before screen recording the conversation between you and Jeremiah, then your dating profile before sending it to himself. As much as he wants to confront you right now, you’re still working at the Hunters Association, and he’s going to talk Jeremiah’s ears off for matching with you on the dating app.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 Rafayel 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Rafayel stands in a corner, watching journalists, photographers, and art critics gravitate toward his newest piece. Many admiring and snapping photos of the art piece while murmuring among one another. A couple of journalists approached Rafayel for an interview, and he gladly answered a few questions and explained his inspiration for the art piece. However, the longer the exhibit drags on, the more Rafayel feels drained.

Thomas excuses himself from the conversation he’s having with journalists before walking over to where Rafayel has retreated. Rafayel has a visible pout on his face, his arms crossing over his chest, and he occasionally huffs and fixes his hair.

“Everyone is admiring your newest art piece, Rafayel. Shouldn’t you be happy?” Thomas asks, now standing beside him.

Rafayel drags out a sigh, shifting from one leg to another. “How much longer do I have to be here? I’m tired and hungry. I feel like a fish out of water,” Rafayel says, turning to Thomas with a pout.

Thomas looks at Rafayel amusingly, propping his hands on his hips. “We’ve been here for only three hours, Rafayel. You promised to do a few interviews with renowned art magazines, and you’ve only completed two,” Thomas replies.

“Only three hours? I could’ve spent those three hours with Miss Bodyguard at Twinkle Toys playing at the claw machine with her,” Rafayel huffs, kicking the ground before him.

Thomas chuckles, shaking his head. There’s not a day where Rafayel doesn’t complain about being at an art exhibit without you. Usually, when you’re not busy, you accompany him and protect him from harm. But today is not that day, and Rafayel has been pouty ever since. Could it be because he’s upset over…

Should Thomas ask Rafayel about that? Thomas is going to do it; Rafayel either knows about it already, and that is the reason why he’s pouting, or he’ll eventually find out about it, and Thomas will never hear the end of it.

“Rafayel, are you upset because [Y/N] is on a dating app?” Thomas asks casually, turning to the pouting Lumerian.

The pout on Rafayel’s face quickly disappears after hearing Thomas’s question. Rafayel looks at Thomas, eyes wide with shock, horror, and confusion. Oh, okay, so maybe Rafayel isn’t aware that you’re on a dating app. Rafayel steps towards Thomas, almost glaring daggers into his friend’s soul.

“What did you say? Care to repeat that for me?”

Thomas clears his throat and pulls his phone out of his pocket. Thomas scrolls through his phone before showing Rafayel the screen. Rafayel takes Thomas’s phone from his hands and stares at your dating profile with keen eyes. Everything about your profile feels off; it doesn’t feel like it’s the real you.

Rafayel has seen those images of you before because they’re on your social media. But the information about you does not feel authentic, if that makes sense. Why did you list your type in a man when he’s clearly your type? A man with a lot of money, a sense of humor, and will spoil you with luxury items? Rafayel can easily do that! Why would you be on that damn dating app!?

Wait a damn minute…

“Why does it say unmatch in the corner?” Rafayel asks, slowly turning to Thomas with a sharp glare.

Thomas holds his hands up in defense. “Calm down, Rafayel. I was making sure to see if the person behind the dating profile is actually [Y/N] or someone trying to impersonate her,” Thomas says.

“How does that justify any of this!? You matched with my bodyguard!” Rafayel exclaims, ignoring the looks people shoot in his and Thomas’s direction as they walk by.

Even if Thomas matched with you to see “whether the person behind the profile is actually you,” Thomas continues to match with you on a dating app. While it’s interesting to see Thomas on a dating app, what bothers Rafayel is the fact that Thomas has the audacity to match with someone Rafayel is interested in.

Rafayel tightens his grip on Thomas’s phone, glaring at the screen. Rafayel’s inner monologue drowns out the noise of art critics, journalists, and photographers. His breathing starts to pick up, as does his heartbeat; the sound of his racing heart pounds in his ears.

“Rafayel,” Thomas tries to grab his attention, placing a hand on Rafayel’s shoulders.

Rafayel brushes Thomas’s hands away as he continues to scroll through your dating profile to take in every information that’s provided. You’re allegedly not looking for anything serious despite stating that you want a rich boyfriend who will spoil you with materials (he’s already doing that; is that not enough?). The longer he lingers on your dating profile, the more he feels his sanity slips away. Without thinking, Rafayel walks away with Thomas’s phone still in his grasp, leaving his friend behind.

“Rafayel! Where are you going?! The art exhibit isn’t even over yet!” Thomas calls out.

Rafayel ignores Thomas and continues to walk to the entrance of the art museum. Even if Rafayel is far from Linkon, Rafayel is determined to confront you about your dating profile on the dating app that Thomas has the audacity to match with you. Rafayel looks at the time, making a note that he will arrive at Linkon by nightfall.

⋆.˚𓅆࿐ Sylus ⋆.˚𓅆࿐

Luke and Kieran stand behind Sylus, looking down at their phones while whispering to one another. Sylus ignores the loud whispering behind him as he continues to stare at the man before him, unamused. The man is one of the dealers of the military-grade weapon that Sylus has auctioned off the black market— it’s illegal to be owned by those who aren’t part of the military, but what the government doesn’t know won’t hurt them now, will it?

The man— Ashton Gray, also known as Mr. Gray— gestures to one of his lackeys to hand over the briefcase that contains the weapon. Mr. Gray’s lackey places the briefcase on the table and slides it toward Sylus’s direction. Sylus reaches forward and opens the metal briefcase, examining the carefully packed weapon.

“Hmph. It’s in perfect condition and looks lovely,” Sylus mutters. He pulls the weapon out from the briefcase, feeling the weight of the weapon in his hands. “It’s durable; the material doesn’t feel cheap or flimsy.”

Mr. Gray scoffs, rolling his eyes, and laughs bitterly. “Mr. Sylus, the weapons we sell to consumers are top-notch.”

Sylus ignores the man’s comment and continues to inspect every inch of the weapon. The weapon is made of rare metals that cannot be found anywhere. They’re mined in the deepest depths of a repository by a small group of people in a remote location that isn’t known to many people, or at least to the general public.

“No way!” Luke gasps, grabbing attention from everyone else in the room.

Sylus turns to the twins behind him and raises his eyebrows at Luke and Kieran. Kieran quickly hides his phone behind his back while Luke rubs the back of his neck, apologizing to the annoyed Onychinus leader.

Mr. Gray furrows his eyebrows at the twins, crossing his arms over his chest. “Mr. Sylus, do your lackeys have something to share with the rest of the room?” Mr. Gray asks, gesturing to the twenty-something people in the private room in an undisclosed area.

Sylus looks at Mr. Gray, amused. “Mr. Gray, you seemed to be bothered by whatever is keeping Luke and Kieran occupied,” Sylus comments, placing the gun back in the metal briefcase. “Whatever they are up to is none of your business.”

The metal briefcase closes with a click. Sylus stands up, grabs the briefcase, and begins making his way to the exit, nodding to Mr. Gray with Luke and Kieran following. Mr. Gray glares at the twins as they walk by, almost mockingly waving at him. Once the three are out of earshot, Sylus sighs and adjusts the sleeve of his shirt.

The trio enters Sylus’s sports car, silence hanging in the air. Sylus hands the metal briefcase to Luke before turning on the car; the engine roars to life. The three sit in silence, watching the scenery go by as they leave the location. For once, Sylus didn’t blow the place up. Sylus glances in the rearview mirror to see the twins scrolling through their phones, completely occupied with whatever they’re seeing on the screen. Sylus sighs and shakes his head as he continues to drive the three of them back to the base in the N109 Zone.

“Care to explain to me what is keeping you two occupied on that phone of yours?” Sylus asks, breaking the silence in the car. “That outburst was unnecessary.”

Kieran and Luke glance at each other, unsure of what to say. Both Luke and Kieran recently joined a dating app (the N109 Zone is boring, and these two want to meet someone new when their service isn’t needed), and the twins received a match! Sounds simple enough, right? Wrong! Luke and Kieran share the same dating profile (they come in a pack; you can’t separate them. If you want one of them, you’ll get the other free), and they happen to match with little ole Miss Hunter (you).

While you and Sylus have this strange yet comical dynamic, it’s shocking to see you on a dating app despite being on Onychinus’s radar. They know every piece of information about you, and by “they,” Luke and Kieran are implying Sylus. Yes, there is information about you that both the twins know, but they don’t know every little thing about you.

“Is it that dating app of yours?” Sylus asks, eyes gluing onto the road ahead of him.

Luke clears his throat, nodding. “Yes! But we saw something that caught us off guard, that’s all. I apologize for my outburst, boss-man.”

Kieran continues to stare at your dating profile on his screen, rereading every information provided on your profile. It’s a good thing Sylus meets all of the requirements of what you want in a man. However, Sylus isn’t going to be happy if he hears that you’re on a dating app when you’ve been seeing him. Speaking of…

Kieran looks up from his phone, making eye contact with Sylus through the rearview mirror. “Hey, boss-man! How are things going between you and Miss Hunter?” Kieran asks, crossing his right leg over his left.

“Things are going well. However, we haven’t been in contact for perhaps a few weeks. Why?” Sylus asks, raising his eyebrows at Kieran’s question.

Luke and Kieran look at each other, not saying a word. Luke and Kieran press their lips into a thin line, unsure of how else to answer Sylus’s question. Sylus rolls his eyes and uses his Evol to snatch Kieran’s phone from his hands. Kieran opens his mouth to protest but stops when Luke nudges him with his elbow.

Sylus looks down at the phone, letting out a scoff, and a bitter laugh follows. “I see. So this is what caused you two to have an outburst moments ago,” Sylus mutters. “And you two are matched with Miss Hunter.”

Luke and Kieran stare at Sylus from the backseat, waiting to see what Sylus is going to do next. Sylus shakes his head, sighing before tossing the phone back to the twins. Luke quickly grabs the phone and hands it to Kieran, who checks to make sure the phone isn’t damaged. Instead of taking the usual route back to Onychinus’s base, Sylus decides to take a different route, causing Luke and Kieran to be confused.

“Where are we going, boss-man?” Luke asks, looking at Kieran from the corner of his eyes.

Sylus shrugs. “We’re taking a little field trip to visit a certain kitten in Linkon City,” Sylus replies.

˚୨୧⋆. Y/N ˚୨୧⋆.

You step into the elevator of your apartment, rubbing the back of your neck. You have been sitting in your cubicle for hours at the Hunters Association. Your back is hurting, and so is your neck and your butt. While the elevator takes you to the seventh floor of your apartment, you space out, wondering why Tara asked you about your relationship status. The elevator chimes, snapping you out of your thoughts. You step out of the elevator and walk towards your apartment, rummaging through your tote bag to search for your keys.

“Found you,” you mutter, grabbing your keys hidden deep in your tote bag and pulling them out with a sigh of relief. “Now I can finally relax—”

Your eyes widen when you see four familiar men standing at the front door to your apartment. They’re glaring daggers at each other, on edge. The familiar twins stand to the side, shaking their heads with disapproval.

You press your lips into a thin line. “Can I help you?”

“Why are you acting all innocent? You have a lot of explaining to do, Miss Bodyguard!” Rafayel exclaims, crossing his arms over his chest while pouting in your direction.

You tilt your head to the side, confused about what Rafayel is implying. You rub your temples with a sigh, too exhausted to deal with whatever is happening between the four men standing at the door to your apartment. It is way too late for you to be dealing with any sort of conflict.

You sigh for the umpteenth time. “Whatever is going on, you guys can tell me when I unlock the door to my apartment. I don’t want my neighbors to overhear our conversation,” you mutter, weaving through the crowd of men.

Even though you can get your fingerprint to unlock the door to your apartment, it does not work as of now. You’re going to have to call the front desk to inform them of the issue with the fingerprint lock. Until then, you’re using keys to get into your apartment. You enter your apartment with six men crowding into the comfort of your home while mumbling under their breaths.

You hang your tote bag on the rack along with your coat, toeing your shoes off before slipping on your house slippers. You turn to the four (technically six, but Luke and Kieran are making themselves home in your living room) men, waiting for one of them to explain why they’re all standing in front of your apartment.

Sylus sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Kitten, care to—”

“Why are you on a dating app!?” Rafayel exclaims, shoving Thomas’s phone towards your face.

You back up and grab the phone from Rafayel’s hands, squinting at the screen. Oh great, more screens to look at. You hold the phone close to your face, blinking rapidly. You’re not on a dating app, and you never have a dating profile in the first place. Wait, could this be what Tara was trying to ask you about earlier today at the Hunters Association?

“I’m not on a dating app,” you reply, raising your eyebrows at the men before you.

You walk farther into your apartment, scrolling through your supposed dating profile. Whoever is posing as you on this dating app is very committed to being you. You sit on the armrest of the couch, reading through “your” dating profile.

“Are you three here for the same thing, or is Rafayel the only one interrogating me over something I didn’t know I had?” You ask.

Xavier and Zayne show their phones— screenshots of the same dating profile and messages between you and whoever “you” matched with on that app. Sylus grabs Kieran by the shoulders and nudges him to hand over his phone to you. You stare at Luke and Kieran, almost horrified that they are the ones who found this dating profile of “yours.”

You pull out your phone and hand it to Rafayel. “As I said earlier, I’m not on any dating apps. Whoever these people matched with, that person isn’t me.”

Rafayel shoves your phone to your face for a second to unlock your phone before scrolling through your phone, skimming through every app you have installed. Sylus, Zayne, and Xavier join Rafayel in going through your phone.

You made a face. “I don’t remember taking this picture,” you mutter, zooming in on one particular photo. “And this information about myself isn’t remotely accurate. How did you four fall for this catfish?”

Luke coughs. “To be fair, we,” he gestures to him and Kieran, “assumed it was legitimate because “your” dating profile is a verified account. Meaning, whoever is running the account somehow managed to confirm that they are you.”

You stare at him blankly, then look at the four men, who are still glued to your phone. You sink into your couch and hand back the phone to Rafayel. Rafayel hands the phone to the closest person before stomping to you, sniffling.

“Cutie~! How could you match with Thomas!? What’s so special about him?” Rafayel whines, plopping down beside you and resting his head on yours.

You kiss your teeth and pinch Rafayel’s cheeks. “Rafayel! I told you already! I’m not on any dating apps!” Rafayel whines, grabbing your hands and ripping your hand from his cheek.

Xavier hands you your phone, standing before you with his arms over his chest. Oh, he’s pouting as well. Zayne and Sylus look both relieved but also mildly miffed with the fact that they fell for a catfish.

You stand up, stomping towards Sylus and poking his chest with your index finger. “You! You’re technologically advanced, yet you couldn’t tell that the dating profile is a catfish!?” You screech, repeatedly poking his chest over and over.

Sylus grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours. “Kitten, I had a long day. Luke and Kieran are the ones who showed me your supposed dating profile. I had to double-check with you, sweetie. Plus, it has been a while since we’ve seen each other. I wanted to take this opportunity to come and visit you.”

You glare at Sylus, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. Damn him and his smooth talk! You look at Zayne and Xavier, waiting for one of them to explain— or give an excuse like the leader of Onychinus.

Zayne closes his eyes and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a long exhale. “I have no excuses, darling. However, Dr. Greyson was convinced that the person behind that dating profile was you,” Zayne says, gazing at you bashfully, the tips of his ears bright red.

You rub the bridge of your nose, trying to hold on to the last bits of your sanity. From what you’re gathering, you have matched with Dr. Greyson, Thomas, both Luke and Kieran because they share one profile for some reason, and… who else?

You look at Xavier. Xavier avoids your eyes, glaring at the ground with his jaws clenched. If you look closely, you can almost see steam coming from Xavier’s ears. His ears are so red, and you feel bad, but you can’t help but laugh at how adorably jealous he is of whoever “you” matched with on that damn dating app.

“Let me guess, it’s Jeremiah, the owner of Philo?” Luke asks, giggling behind his hand.

Xavier’s head snapped toward Luke and Kieran’s direction, glaring at them while trying to remain as calm as possible. “[Y/N] didn’t match with Jeremiah. The catfish matched with Jeremiah,” Xavier corrects Luke.

You rub your temples, too tired to handle the entire situation. If you had the energy, you would’ve been very upset over the fact that someone is pretending to be you and matching with men who are friends with the men you’re interested in. But right now, you just want to go shower and relax.

“I’m going to go shower. We can talk about this later, but for now, please give it a rest. It’s been a long day, and I’m exhausted,” You say.

The four men watch you walk to your bedroom, closing the door behind you. Rafayel turns to Sylus, crossing his arms over his chest while continuing to pout. “Is there a way for you to check and see who’s behind this account?”

Sylus rubs his temples, shaking his head. “As of now, I cannot check to see who’s behind the account,” Sylus mutters. “But I will certainly look into it. It’s a crime to impersonate someone on the internet.”

Xavier shakes his head, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “If we cannot find the person behind the account, we will need to lure them out somehow. It’s evident this person is close with [Y/N].”

“Oh? And what do you suggest?” Zayne mutters, raising his eyebrows at Xavier’s comment. “I’m sure the person behind the account will not reveal their identity easily. Who knows how long they had this account for.”

Rafayel rolls his eyes and walks to the couch, sitting on the armrest. “Whoever is impersonating as Miss Bodyguard is stupid. They don’t know what they’re getting themselves into.”

While you’re in the shower, the four men hatch a plan to lure the person behind the catfish account out. Will you be in on the plan? Perhaps. But for now, they need to find a way to meet the person behind the account. Well, whoever is matched with “you” on that dating app needs to plan a date to meet “you” in person.

Note: Ehhh, I'm not really feeling the ending, if I have to be really honest. I might make a part two for this fic, but I'm not entirely sure if I should. This is my first Love&Deepspace fanfic, so, it's most likely ass. I was supposed to post this fic before Monday, but then I typed way too much, and here we are with a 6.3k word fanfic. For this brand new "series" of mine, I will be writing various men x reader and individual men x reader. Hopefully my future Love&Deepspace fanfic will improve as I continue to write for this game :) anyway, To all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Read more of my works on my Grand Masterlist, which contains every masterlist I have created! | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories there, too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

#Love&Deepspace fanfiction #Love&Deepspace fanfic #Sylus x reader #Zayne x reader #Rafayel x reader #Xavier x reader #genshinluvr #Love and deepspace #Love and Deepspace fanfic #Love and Deepspace fanfiction

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