#Like I really told myself this was the last slow burn I would ever get invested in 😭 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

missmugiwara · 11 months ago

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Just Say It Already

Summary: fem!reader x Gojo // Satoru is an ass, but he's your ass. He just loves getting under your skin - especially with the way he's been calling you his girlfriend for years. But guess what? You're so in denial about it. Warning: 18+, NSFW, smut, flirty, the Gojo rizz, so much sexual tension going on but I live for that, friends to lovers, unprotected sex, swearing, it's complicated, slow burn, mutual pining Note: Oh my god. I told myself to stop writing for more fandoms, but look what happened. Foaming at the mouth for my insane love of this man. Some minor spoilers if not caught up to season 2?

✦ Word count is 7.7k. Thanks for bearing with me and reading! I just really love long stuff! ✦

Quietly, you spoke to Nanami as you recapped the details of your last mission with him and training Itadori. Nanami nodded here and there, looking focused, listening attentively and appearing as cool as ever. As you two conversed, you both didn't even realize a certain someone passing by on his way out of the meeting room. A small hum left Gojo's lips, and he paused at the doorway. As if to get a better view, his hand pulled the blindfold upward from his face to reveal a singular blue eye whilst adorning a smirk so wicked that it only meant one thing: Gojo was up to no good.

"Trying to steal my girlfriend away from me, hm?"

And the conversation instantly ended. Nanami hissed through his teeth. You twitched in anger, an apparent frown pulling your lips downward. In synch, you both turned to the white-haired man with the cheshire grin as he cocked his head to the side. That sapphire eye fluttered to meet your gaze. Another moment, and Gojo returned the blindfold to where it once was before resting his hands in his pockets. It was painfully obvious he was savoring this.

"Satoru! How many times do I gotta say it!? I'm not your girlfriend!"

You whipped around to face him, taking an index finger and poking him repeatedly in the chest. He only laughed in response. You whined and sped up the poking at his cheerful display, trying to hide your obvious chagrin somehow with this. You fought and fought so hard to stop the growing heat to your face, but your fluster was so evident to Gojo himself that you knew he would just tease you more.

As if he didn't do it enough already!

It was so difficult to try and not be flustered, but ugh. Gojo was so good at unraveling you at the seams no matter how many times you were accustomed to this… wooing, one guessed it could be called.

"Not my girlfriend yet!" he purred, cocky as ever. He grabbed your hand to rest on his chest, and you fumed even further when he took a step forward. When he loomed over you like that, it was so easy to forget how freaking tall he was. He seemed so big no matter what height you were. You immediately pulled your hand from his.

"Not your girlfriend ever! Stop saying that! People will get the wrong idea!"

"Oh, but I want them to get the wrong idea."

The blindfold was slid upward on his forehead again, held there by a thumb, just to make sure his sultry expression was visible. He peered at you with heavily lidded eyes and a smirk so coy that it -

Well, it just -

It just made your heart race. Made you melt. Made your mind spiral.

Once more, the rising heat against your cheeks blossomed anew.

Gojo had been doing this shit since the dawn of time. Ever since long ago, way back into your youth. You were students at the time, and you had been flirting with another student from the Kyoto school during the exchange event. Like a typical silly high schooler, you just wanted to go on a date. All of a sudden, Gojo came flying in and kicked the guy square in the face - knocking him out cold on the spot. When you frantically screamed out of confusion, Gojo responded with a cheeky smile.

"What? This guy's trash."

Another pause and he leered at the unconscious highschooler with a sort of dark gaze.

"Lay off my girlfriend."

Ever since then, your sweet Gojo interrupted your love life - continuing these daring exploits well into adulthood. It seemed he lived for the sole sake of pushing your buttons. Pushing your buttons and making sure you were miserable.

And single.

Forever.

One time, you both were walking together to a work meeting across campus - now that you both were teachers. You were engaged in a very flirty phone call with a boyfriend. Gojo swiped the phone from your hand, earning him a gasp. Answering a phone call with Gojo right next to you was a big mistake, and you clearly should have known better. You pathetically hopped next to his tall, lean frame to try grabbing the phone (as he stretched out one arm to comically hold you back).

"Oh, hey - yeah. Look, we are very busy right now," Gojo would emphasize provactively, "so don't call back." As Gojo pulled the phone from his ear, you heard screaming from the other end before Gojo promptly hung up. That's when you knew you had another ex.

There was even a time when Gojo had invited himself over (unannounced as usual) while you ran around your apartment wrapped in a towel to get ready for a date. It was with a shy guy you had been out with a handful of times. But when said date finally showed up to the door? Gojo answered it with a frown. Oh, your date was shocked to say the least: trembling, scared, a fumbling mess as he clutched a bouquet of flowers to his chest. His jaw dropped upon seeing Gojo - a way more attractive, beautiful, model-like man who for some reason was there. Gojo took only one look at the guy, just one look and -

"Oh, god, no."

And slammed the door right in his poor face. Gojo turned toward you, smirking as always, as your jaw dropped in turn. He gave you a deliciously teasing smirk. You couldn't believe Gojo would be so daring! You went to the bathroom for one second, and this happened? That guy you were seeing wasn't actually bad (well, maybe he was kind of a square, didn't like anything you did, a bad kisser… but still).

Why? Why? Why was Gojo doing this!? He made you so freaking mad!

Satoru Gojo was so arrogant, so infuriating, so unbearable! Not to mention, he was so…

So…

He was so…

So damn hot.

Fuck.

Let's face it - the man was walking sex.

Whatever spell Gojo put you under, you hoped it would last an eternity. Because loving him was so natural. Sure you got mad at him, but maybe - just maybe the way he wanted you all to himself was kind of attractive. Just a little. When he walked in the room, butterflies took flight in your stomach. When he smiled at you, you restrained from grabbing his face to smooch those glossy lips. The way he put his hand so casually on your knee while talking during a meeting would send you over the edge.

No one ever looked at you like Gojo did. No one ever made you feel like Gojo did. Man didn't even need to try and you were a hot mess.

And those guys mentioned before? They were trash, just like Gojo said. There were lots of failed relationships. Because one cheated on you, one stood you up, one borrowed your car and crashed it - and yet you kept dating losers? Now somehow Gojo was able to tell who would hurt you from the beginning. So he put up these ridiculous defenses to protect you.

Speaking of ridiculous, it even reminded you of how you broke up with someone once. They complained that you spent too much time with Gojo and needed to stop being his friend. Nothing had ever made you angrier than that. No way would you ever push Satoru Gojo out of your life.

Despite the failed relationships, there were some good times, but only because of Gojo. One time, Gojo appeared at your door with snacks and a movie. Upon seeing your puffy, red eyes fresh from crying after being dumped - Gojo immediately dropped everything and was off to kick the guy's ass.

Satoru Gojo really, truly cared about you. Even if people thought he cared about nothing but himself - well, they were just stupid. They didn't understand how loneliness accompanied great strength. Nobody understood him like you did.

There was nothing wrong with Gojo. You didn't hate him, and he certainly knew that too. Because the two of you knew each other for forever, and you were quite smitten. Quite comfortable in snuggling on the couch after a bad break up, quite comfortable with his head on your lap and talking into the early hours of the morning. Never kissed, never groped, never pushed any boundaries… and yet you ran back to him as if he were always your lover. And he to you, through all his casual dates as well. Dates that always made you seethe with jealousy.

Gojo was close to your heart, but he definitely got on your nerves! He was conceited, a jokester, always did whatever he wanted - but this flirting game was so confusing. With the way Gojo acted, it was just… was he serious about liking you like that or was he really just poking fun at you after all these years? And that's what drove you mad the most.

Or maybe what drove you mad the most was the way you kept trying to push him away. Maybe you were pretending to be mad at Gojo about all of this girlfriend nonsense, to find something that could be your excuse to not date him. Because you feared losing him in this mad jujutsu world, just like how you lost your friends Haibara and Geto long ago. Everything was so difficult even though your heart swelled at the way Gojo seemed to want you so much. What if you got in a relationship with Gojo and it ended badly? Heartbreak from Gojo would be awful, but heartbreak from others? That was easy. Why were you in these awful relationships and never putting effort into them?

Whatever the reason was, it was all so stupid. It was obvious you were acting absurd. But if Gojo could just be more clear instead of leaving you to writhe in whatever frustrated state this was - yes, that would be great. Or maybe if you could stop acting this way, this nonsensical way, that would also be great.

"You know I'm just talking work business with Nanami. No one's stealing me from you."

You scoffed and crossed your arms, cheeks still hot, as you turned away from the tall man. Hopefully, the sarcasm got across. Nanami was long gone by now since he was always annoyed by Gojo's persistent little attempts to drive you wild. A chuckle and Gojo stepped forward to press his chest into your back, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as his lips lowered to it.

"Aw, come on, baby. You know I'm the jealous type."

After a pause, he blew a puff of air into your ear rather hotly. You jumped out of your skin and squealed. Goosebumps erupted on your neck, and you clutched your chest as Gojo grinned widely. Damn him for being such a tease. After a moment of gaining composure (and catching your breath), you smirked impishly.

Because you were so bad. You stroked his ego only further than he did to himself. In fact, anyone could clearly see you egged each other on way too much. Many times, people had called you both out on it - insisted you two just needed to get a room already.

"Why, Satoru!" you batted your lashes dramatically, resting the back of your hand to your forehead, "No man could ever sweep me off my feet when I have you - the strongest. No one could ever compare. They should be jealous of you."

A pause. Gojo smiled as he pulled back in an amused manner.

"See? This is why we're perfect for each other. You get me."

Know what else could never compare? The audacity. The audacity this man had was second to none.

You snorted out a laugh, "Please! No need to feel so threatened."

"Oh, I assure you I'm not. Dumbasses who think they actually have a chance with you?" he paused to chuckle, "Just putting them in their place. No one's good enough for you. Only the best."

As you reached for your coat resting on a chair, you stopped. Quickly, you turned to Gojo to try reading his expression, but the blindfold was back to covering his eyes. His plump lips were upturned into an innocent, closed-mouth smile - a genuine smile over one of those carefree smirks. He leaned against the wall, hands in pockets again, waiting patiently.

Only the best.

A fiery heat fluttered over your cheeks. Huh, well he certainly believed he was the best, so was he referring to himself when he said you deserved the best? He took your breath away. He was sweet when it mattered most. He was arrogant but had a heart. Despite others overlooking this, only seeing Gojo as one thing - the strongest - you knew otherwise. For many years, you always thought you weren't perfect enough to be with the strongest. You worried about living in Gojo's shadow, of unwarranted expectations from others, of him judging you for not being like him… but those feelings were silly. Even though they still fizzled in the back of your brain. Moreover, Gojo never did think less of you. So after another moment of reflection, you mirrored his soft smile.

"Do you really mean that?"

"I don't lie to you."

A small chuckle.

"Satoru, you… you're so sweet, you know that?"

"I know! The sweetest, right? Quality boyfriend material!"

His pink cheeks and goofy grin were adorable, his hands splayed out into the air in emphasis of his quality. In a failed attempt to look mad, you stifled a laugh. Gojo got you once again with his bravado. He was amazing. The way his tone brightened up and became chipper. The way he was so serious one minute and so silly the next.

For a split second, you wondered why your mouth just moved on its own.

You placed your hands on your hips as you gave him a lidded gaze, "Careful, Satoru! I just might fall for you."

Gojo sang back, "That's the plan!"

No hesitation whatsoever. Too bad he didn't know you fell years ago. Unless if he did know then you were just his plaything again, but you were more than happy to be his personal toy. More than happy to be used and teased by Satoru Gojo. Whatever he wanted. Why keep doing this to yourself though? Ignoring the rising anxiety, you draped your coat over your arm and turned to him.

"You know what would make me fall even more? Being spoiled. Let's go grab a drink, yeah? You pay this time!"

A grin as you walked up to the man, slinging an arm around his waist.

"Whaaat? Come on!"

He said facetiously, also with a smile, only to rest a lean arm around your shoulders as you laughed. And so began another trip to the bar between a couple of old friends after a terribly boring work meeting. More like a couple of fools, cackling down the sidewalk, arms around each other - acting as if they were already drunk. A couple of fools, sitting on an empty train car as the sun set - your arms wrapped possesively around Gojo's and your head leaning against his shoulder. Faces so close you could feel each other's breaths between all the jokes, the snickers, the whispers, the attempts at flirting but you shooting him down. A couple of fools, you whining when Gojo's mouth pressed close to the sensitive skin at your neck, nearly nipping you. A couple of fools, with you smacking his hand away when it rose too comfortably inward on your thigh.

A couple of fools indeed.

Since it was a weekday, the bar was pretty empty. The lights were low, and Gojo grabbed his drink only to cause the ice to clink gently when raised to his mouth. He took a sip, then set it down. He was never really a drinker, but once in a while he indulged. His crystal blue eyes darted over to meet your gaze. You rested your head in your hand and released a heavenly sigh.

He looked damn good. White collared shirt with the first few buttons undone, part of his collar bone peeking out, dark sunglasses perched so prettily atop his nose. His niveous hair flowed and framed his perfect face like a work of art.

He really was so gorgeous. Beauty so effortless.

His gaze turned lusty as he noticed you staring.

"Like what you see?"

Lay off my girlfriend.

Gojo's lips curled into a delicious smirk at the memory of the first time he called you his precious girlfriend. Honestly, he just did it out of boredom and wanted to see how angry you would get. Oh, and he was right about one thing.

It was so funny.

So he kept it up. Even when you went to college and took a hiatus from jujutsu. Even when he hung out with you between classes. Even when you came back. When you stood in your new teaching uniform at the gate to the school grounds, Gojo called out.

"Oh, did you miss me that much that you came crawling back? Well, I forgive you because… you're my girl. My one and only."

The wind blew, and you turned to him with the most astonished expression ever. The way he said that… he spoke so lovingly. Gojo tilted his head. How could you look so speechless when he had been calling you his for years? Amazing. A pause, and a tender look in your misty eyes formed. A tiny smile appeared, but you bit your lip to stop it from growing. Gojo's breath caught in his chest. He had never seen that look before. He thought you were going to get mad for certain.

"Come on, you big baby. We talk all the time! But if you must know, I did miss working with you… my Satoru. You never change."

A moment more, and Gojo realized -

Damn.

My Satoru.

He could have been brought to his knees. The way you looked melted his heart. The way your lips were glossed and eyes shined. The new hairstyle. The way your body formed new curvatures that were pleasing to his eyes. The way your face matured with the smallest of wrinkles now slightly forming as you began to approach your thirties. He knew it must have been from crinkling your face while laughing at his jokes all these years. He had never seen anything so sexy.

He did take a risk by calling you something different today, and he was so glad. Girlfriend never sounded crazy to him. It was the only thing he could say without freaking you out too much - to let you know how he felt. There was a problem though. It sounded so informal.

He wanted more than that.

Gojo always liked you. It was always more than a little crush. If you had asked, he would have told you how he felt without hesitation… but it never happened. Would you be all right with loving the strongest? Would that lead to high expectations of him being the perfect boyfriend? Huh. Gojo didn't give it much thought. Not that he was worried. Why was everything so hard? It didn't have to be, but you were both acting like children. Just because Satoru Gojo was the strongest did not mean he had everything. He did not have you. One of his best friends. The one that stayed.

He didn't mind waiting for you.

The look you gave him was so loving. And the way your eyes softened at him? Ugh, he couldn't take it. You never gave that look to anybody but Gojo. Nobody ever smiled at him like you did. Nobody ever wrapped their arms around him like you did. The way your mood brightened up when he walked in the room always sent him over the edge.

God, if only.

If only he could show you how much he loved you. If only you could scrunch up that pretty face while lying underneath him. Moaning with pleasure, eyes rolling back, crying out -

"Satoru!"

You whined, slapping your hands on the bar top. A chorus of glass shaking caused Gojo to blink and turn back to you, a slight blush on his face.

That was enough to snap you both out of lechorous daydreams. It was clear as day Gojo caught your dreamy gaze since you were so stupidly swirling the straw in your drink while biting your bottom lip a second ago. Gojo hummed playfully, his brows furrowing inward as he looked around for a second.

He raised his arm in the air to call the bartender, exclaiming that his girlfriend needed another drink to which you slapped his hand down. Oh, how he loved to embarass you as punishment. The moment you walked in that bar, Gojo went off. Really loudly, he drawled out the most shameful things. Oh, how sexy his girlfriend looked today. Oh, how thirsty his girlfriend was, and oh, how good of a boyfriend he was for taking his sweet girlfriend out.

He asked if you wanted another drink. You shook your head, murmuring that you were done for the day - just off to use the restroom before leaving. As usual, you insisted he could go on home without you, but he never took up the offer. Never wanted to go unless you were leaving with him. Now that you thought about it, that sounded very implicative. So with a wave of your hand to brush off your fluster, you told Gojo you'd be back in a minute.

Apparently, a lot can happen in one minute.

Because when you returned, some chick was seated next to Gojo. She had an obnoxious laugh, an incredibly ugly outfit, and Gojo looked utterly bored as he stared straight ahead at the wall of liquor behind the bar.

Your brows furrowed in disgust. She was trying to flirt, to get his number, or something. More importantly, this bitch needed to know that Gojo was here with you. This was when you hoped (oh god, for once you were admitting it) he would just simply state that he had… a girlfriend. Gojo never got the chance because you never left room for one. In a fit of rage, your body just moved on its own and flew over there. Gojo and the woman both looked up at you once your hand slammed on the bar.

"Get your hands off my -"

But you froze.

Your what?

"My…"

Your voice trembled. The expression in Gojo's eyes was so clearly readable when a smirk curled upon his lips. Because he sure as hell knew what was happening. You could practically read his mercilessly toying thoughts.

Hm? Just say it already.

That's exactly what he would say outloud! If he wanted. And he could, but alas he loved to torture you more. You could already imagine his velvety voice coming from those pretty, pretty lips of his.

You know you want to.

"My…"

Stop lying to yourself.

"My boyfriend!"

Gojo's mouth went into the surprised shape of an o, then a toothy grin. The woman's eyes widened in bewilderment. Immediately, she threw her hands up and backed away slowly. The expression on your face was indescribable. You glared as if she were a dumbstruck animal that just accidentally walked right into a wolf's den (with you being the wolf of course). You lividly watched her, making sure her ass scooted so far out of the bar that she was completely out of sight.

As soon as that woman was gone, you let out a sigh and your body relaxed. Fists unballed from your sides, and feeling those gorgeous blue eyes boring into your soul, you froze. Gojo was still there. So nervously, you blinked at him with a forced smile, but no amount of explanation could make this normal. No amount of excuses could get him to think otherwise. Especially from a tease like him who just heard the greatest slip-up of all time that revealed everything he wanted to hear but already knew deep down in his heart.

Gojo's sapphire eyes slowly drooped at you, the dark sunglasses slipping from his nose. The look he gave was absolutely sexy. He blinked once before his lips turned into a raunchy smirk.

"Your boyfriend, huh?"

That look, that dangerous yet lustful look in his eyes made your heart race. No matter what signals your brain fired to your body, you could not move. The first thought was: oh no, was this a mistake? The second was waiting for an onslaught of merciless jokes and teasing. But the latter never appeared. Carefully, you watched Gojo move smoothly as he took his chin from his hand, uncrossed his legs, and stood up.

"You wanna get outta here?"

He leaned his forehead to touch yours as his voice lowered to a whisper. It took every single ounce of willpower to stop yourself from pouncing him, from melting into a gooey, lovesick puddle on the floor. Gojo's breath fanned across your lips, and you whimpered at the sensation. Cheeks burning hot, you clutched your hands to your chest as Gojo chuckled before licking his lips. Eyes glued to his beautiful blue orbs. Your voice was barely a squeak, barely a whisper.

"Yes. Yes, I do. So badly."

With a hum, he just simply grabbed his coat.

"Turn around."

Gojo mused, and the smirk never left his face. On command, you immediately turned on your heel. Gojo gently draped his large coat over your shoulders. With his other free arm, he just gabbed your purse and coat to fold it over his arm. For some reason, your face was on fire at the gesture. Your mind was reeling.

"Then let's go, sweetheart. Can't keep you waiting any longer now, can I?"

An arm slung around your shoulders, Gojo's head tipped high into the air proudly as he led you out of the bar.

It was only an instant.

A blink of your eyes, and suddenly you were both in your apartment living room. Knowing Gojo as long as you have, teleportation antics were quite normal to deal with by now.

A pause.

You and Gojo just stared at each other. It was obvious your face was heated in a fluster, and cutely enough, there was a pink hue to his cheeks. Neither of you moved for a few seconds. Neither of you bothered to turn on the lights. His pale face was illuminated by the moonlight peeking through the windows. Then Gojo moved. He dropped your things to the floor and when his knuckles brushed against your jaw, thumb tucked under your chin as he leaned in -

It was over.

Your eyes fluttered shut, heartbeat thundered, lips parted as you let out a breathless sigh. Eagerly, you tipped your head upward to meet him.

Satoru Gojo's mouth touched yours.

The softest, most gentle kiss you had ever received. His lips were soft, plump - everything you imagined and more. They were warm. They were angelic. It was enough to make you question whether you were in heaven right now. A simple, soft kiss that lasted for a few seconds, and Gojo pulled away. When his lips released yours, he smirked because you had let out the tiniest moan.

With a slight nervous laugh, you both leaned in again to repeat that same soft kiss. This time, the white-haired seraph gently held your face in his hands, and you moved your arms so quickly to rest against his chest that the jacket slipped from your shoulders to join the rest of the belongings on the floor. Your lips moved slowly, smacking against his own once, twice, three times before he dipped his tongue past your lips - and you were losing it. If he said so, you would have dropped your panties then and there. When you pulled away for a breath, you both grinned sheepishly.

That low chuckle, that smirk upon his face when he brushed his thumbs over your cheeks. If only your mouth could make words, but he took your breath away.

"Took you long enough."

There it was. The comment you were bracing yourself for. When your throat tightened and you gripped at his shirt sleeves as he was about to turn away, Gojo stopped. He blinked in perplexion, about to ask why you clung to him, when his heart dropped. Your eyes watered and eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh my god… you're - you're crying. You're actually crying!" and Gojo settled his hands at your waist with the softest of touches.

Confusion was apparent in his blue eyes - you two had just shared a passionate kiss, and all of a sudden you were crying? Gojo was not one to panic, however, he really hoped this was not a terrible mistake and he had not hurt you in any way. When he led you to sit next to him on the couch, he did not ask any questions. He just waited. Waited until you were ready. There was a brief moment where Gojo had gracefully waltzed over to the bathroom, grabbed a tissue and handed it to you when he sat back down. Again, Satoru Gojo really was so sweet to you, and he placed a hand on your thigh.

"I'm just… so stupid!"

Oh.

He instantly knew what that was in reference to. Truth be told, he always knew how you felt about him, and you did too. He also knew you must have felt like an idiot for wasting all this time, for not just going after him earlier in life. To hell with all that. He couldn't care less.

"You're not stupid, babe."

"But I -"

A finger was pressed to your lips.

"Just shut up."

With a smile, he drew back his finger.

"Everything couldn't be more perfect."

With a hum, you tucked your chin down to stare at your hands folded in your lap. A tiny, gingerly smile graced your lips.

"Okay."

There was another pause as Gojo shuffled in his seat, bending downward to pick up all the dropped items on the floor. He placed them onto the coffee table with ease, then picked up his coat.

"I should go."

He firmly stood up and threw the coat over his shoulder. He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. With that loving gaze you always gave, the one he was such a fan of, you watched as he proudly strode over to the door. He wanted to give you some more time - was not about to start putting on the moves when you seemed a little upset. Especially on a work night, no less. When his hand settled on the doorknob, he whipped his head to you and smiled so widely that his eyes clamped shut.

"I'll call you tomorrow?"

Oh, too cute. The way he said that implied he was going to anyway but wanted to check first. You let out a small laugh. Surely, he did not forget you would see each other first thing in the morning at work, right? Tomorrow was the last day before summer break, after all.

"Satoru, we're going to -"

"Don't ruin it, babe!"

Another confident grin from him caused you to giggle. With a roll of your eyes, you grinned back.

"Yes! You can call me!"

"Great. Today was wonderful, by the way. Good night then."

"Good night."

There was another pause. No way you could just let him leave after all that.

"Satoru?"

Gojo's ears pricked at your tone. He turned to you. You jumped up from your seat and twiddled your fingers, hoping it would distract you from them trembling.

"I - I… will you stay over for the night?"

A red hue dusted over Gojo's cheeks as he blinked in amazement. A second to register what had been asked as your eyes away from his. For the umpteenth time that evening, that delectable smirk graced Gojo's plump lips.

"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you down?"

It started innocently enough.

Gojo was used to this. He asked you to grab extra blankets and pillows as you usually did when he stayed over. He was prepared to sleep on the couch, but something was a little different in the way you stared at him then. You tucked your chin downward.

"No, no…"

And he paused.

"You… you can sleep in my room with me."

He froze again with a red hue so gorgeously plastered across his cheeks. There was a silence for some time, but another smirk from Gojo and he moved.

Gojo kicked his shoes off and leap-frogged over the couch to land next to you, grin and all. The impact caused you to bounce on the cushion, and in bashful fashion, you brought your hand to your mouth to stifle any giggles. When Gojo grabbed your thighs to pull your body closer, the giggles only increased as he peppered your face with kisses. Oh, it was supposed to be innocent. This relationship was still fresh. No need to rush, after all. Just throw on a movie and cuddle on the couch like you've done so much before. But then -

Gojo kissed your mouth.

So softly. So sweetly. So tenderly.

Then you kissed his.

With such ease, the white-haired man pulled you into his lap. His hands at your hips, thumbs rubbing gentle little circles. Your hands, holding his face as your lips pressed in perfect synch to each other. Those sweet, little kisses transformed into tonguing, and then that led to biting. Then it only became hotter when those kisses turned into sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and grunts and groans.

It didn't matter that a movie was never decided upon. In fact, why would you want to watch a movie when this was so much more fun? Hot and slow touches began to sneak under clothes, on areas of skin you didn't even know needed touches, areas that you could never fathom feeling so electric underneath his fingers.

"Oh my god… angel," Gojo breathed, "you keep up those pretty little noises, and I won't be able to control myself anymore."

"Then don't."

He pulled back for a second. Gently, you held his face in your hands while running your thumbs over his cheeks. He gave a cheesy smile.

"Ugh, will you marry me?"

A heat returned to your cheeks as you rolled your eyes at his teasing. A second more, and he pulled you back to him - clutching his arms around your form, nearly knocking you on your back as his mouth immediately went to your neck for little nips and kisses to it. He was so strong, and he was just tickling you endlessly as you laughed uncontrollably.

"Ah! Sa… Satoru!" you laughed wildly, trying to push him away, "Satoru, please!"

"Satoru, please."

Body thrown against the mattress, lips feverishly mashing and molding against each other's, so many delicious moans and groans and hums inbetween them all, and what sweet music to your ears. A growl, one that sent shivers down your spine, and Gojo pulled away for a split second to snatch your collared shirt from your shoulder before firmly planting his lips to your skin, giving a quick bite. Oh, it would definitely leave a bruise as you clenched at the sheets below you in desperation for support, or some form of relief. But how cute because that bruise would only match the other marks adorning your chest.

Gojo's lips moved expertly along your collar bone and settled on your neck, leaving hot and wet kisses against your skin. A tingly yet ignited feeling that left you yearning for more as you whined, being pushed into the bed further. The sensation of his warm saliva on your neck, leaving wet stamps of his lips and soft traces of his tongue, reduced you to a mewling mess. One of your hands clutched against Gojo's chest to ball the fabric of his shirt, and with the other free hand, running it along the satisfying undercut of his hair before gripping his white locks.

"You're mine." he breathed against your skin, "Mine, mine, mine."

"Yes… ah - all yours!" you panted as you ran a hand through his hair again. A whimper escaped your lips when his tongue slid up your neck, "Always have been, always will."

Yes. It was always this way. Your feelings were limitless.

There was no doubt in your mind. Should not have ever tried to ignore your heart especially when it raced upon seeing him every single day. Why in the world did you date such losers when you could have had…

Satoru.

Satoru, Satoru, Satoru.

"Yeah, that's right, sweetheart."

Breath caught in your chest at his angelic beauty. And before you could gasp, his lips were back to your neck. They left such needy kisses, such sloppy, yummy kisses. His touch was leaving you drunk as your eyelids drooped heavily. Your will was breaking, practically bursting at the seams. Just thinking how badly you needed his mouth everywhere else. But you didn't have time to tell him when you turned your head further and released a moan that had the man chuckling lowly in your ear. The smirk on his face only grew when his hips bucked into yours, and you gasped while drawing your trembling arms around him in attempts to steady yourself.

"Goj - oh!"

"Ah, ah, ah - Satoru." he corrected, and your legs could have turned to jelly right there at his seductive tone. Your entire body could have melted into a puddle. He could have said the least sexiest thing in the world like that, and you could still fall for him.

"How long have you known me? You gettin' shy on me?"

A whine left your lips when you realized you said his last name. You just couldn't think straight. One thing was obvious though. It was obvious from the start that Satoru Gojo was in charge especially with how sugary he spoke. Such a sweet tone. Such honey-kissed, nectar-like, addicting words that dripped from his lips just like you were dripping wet with arousal. Heart pounding, core throbbing.

"It's cute."

Gojo was here and all yours. You couldn't believe it. Especially when you opened your eyes to take in this irresistible scene. Gojo, sunglasses thrown off somewhere to reveal those sapphire eyes, with his white shirt unbuttoned to show off his toned chest heaving to catch his breath. His pants looked a little too tight, hardly hiding his hard-on beneath them. He hovered over you, hands on either side of your poor, dizzy, flushed head. Those sky blue eyes roamed over your nearly naked form - which was barely covered by undergarments, with one bra strap already straying from a shoulder.

"N-no, I'm not being shy."

"Look at you. You're just a mess right now, sweetheart." he grinned, lowering his mouth to breathe against your ear, "Haven't even done anything yet."

A brush of his fingers against the wet, clothed spot between your thighs made your hands clutch his chest on command. They glided up to rest on his shoulders, effortlessly slipping beneath the fabric to slide the shirt from his beautiful, marble-like form. For a second, he stood on his knees to finish slipping the shirt off before undoing his belt, letting the small clink ring in the air. Pants were unzipped, leaving them to hang precariously from his hips, and Gojo returned back to his beloved spot, pink lips hovering over your own. You pressed a finger to his mouth and he paused.

"Please, Satoru…" you whispered, "don't tease me. You always do."

Gojo planted a quick kiss to your fingertip before his tongue poked out to run along it, causing you to freeze in surprise. He opened his mouth to gently suck your finger in, massaging his tongue against it before releasing you with a pop of his mouth.

"Oh, but it's sooo fun. I live for it."

That was always obvious since forever ago. Ugh, that sexy drawl and that smirk to match it. He was amazing in every way. So, running your fingers against the undercut at his neck, you whispered.

"Need you bad, Satoru."

You grabbed a fistful of his white locks, leading his mouth to your own to repeat that hot make-out session from earlier on the couch. Lips completely locked, not even stopping at getting in the way of clothes flying off, not even in the way of bodies swiftly moving and hands grasping at skin. His hands roamed over your breasts, squeezing them - biting with his teeth, pinching nipples and leaving you a moaning mess. His hands roamed over your thighs, over your ass - no part left untouched, but always savored. Nothing stopped this limitless love, even when Gojo hooked an arm under your legs and tossed you effortlessly into position on the bed - your head landing perfectly on its pillow while Gojo bounced on the mattress above you, mouth against mouth again in a heated kiss, slipping out a groan between parted lips.

A raspy whisper, "You ready for me?"

And you bashfully nodded yes, smiles and all as your sweet Gojo - the strongest, the most insufferable, but the most loving - positioned himself so that his pretty cock slid between your slick folds. A gasp escaped your lips when he groaned from how deep it went. Another gasp, followed by your soft moans when he started thrusting, giving that good friction and allowing your walls to tighten and suck him in further.

"Oh, fuck, sweetheart - fuck! So perfect."

"Sa… Satoru, fu - oh!"

A sharp intake of air once Gojo used a hand to greedily slide over the plushness of your thigh. He moved it ever so slightly, pulling it up a bit higher around his waist so that you both froze in place immediately, before letting out a pleasured groan in synch. The new angle which allowed him to go somehow deeper made your head spin.

Oh my gooood.

Your eyes clamped shut at the sensation, drool pooling at your mouth from how delicious Gojo's body was and when his lips drunkenly met yours, matching in swolleness. A little more speed, and you wrapped an arm around his neck as you just whined into his shoulder, clawing the skin at his back.

Oh my god oh my god oh my god more.

"Toru, fuck!"

Babbling his name over and over like a prayer. Curse words and moans spilling from both your mouths. Begging for Gojo to be faster, to be harder because god dammit you had waited too many years for this and he did too. Skin slapping on skin, sweat making your bodies stick together, and you could only grip onto him tighter as you were nearly screaming from the pleasure warming up your body.

"I love you, I love you, I fucking love you! Please, please, please, please, please!"

"Fuck, y-yeah… Love - love you too!"

And that tight coil in your lower half only got tighter and tighter, until - It snapped. The pleasure igniting your body as you were filled with his seed. You thought you saw stars? Forget that. Gojo could have put you in his domain, and you would have thanked him. A quick kiss to your mouth, raking your fingers through his damp locks before he released you to finally breathe, to ride out this high with a few slow and lazy thrusts of his hips. Lazily, you blinked the tears from your eyes. How sexy Gojo looked in this moment - if that even meant anything because he always looked good. His pure white hair stuck to his forehead in cute, wavy tufts. The way his pale face was red and flushed at the cheeks, lips so swollen to complement this as he panted, sweat shining on his skin in the dull light of the bedroom. Eyes clamped shut to recover from his high, but feeling your gaze on him, he blinked once. Your heart thumped in your chest at the sight of his illuminated blue eyes looking at you with hunger, glowing if just for a split second before he blinked again and the glow was gone. Your face heated up again - no, you must have imagined it.

"So you love me?"

He purred, eyes drooping at your flushed out face. Seemed he caught you staring off into space again. He panted against your skin, bringing you back from the endless blue maze that were his eyes.

"I do." you purred back with a smirk.

Between all the pants, Gojo cupped a hand to your face. He leaned to give you a quick peck on the forehead, then grunted when he laid next to you. When he got comfortable, you shuffled over to lay your head on his chest and firmly grab his jaw - giving a small kiss as he groaned into it. You pulled back to stroke a white lock from his forehead as he watched you with those blue eyes of his.

He smirked - one that meant he was up to no good again.

"So glad to be here with my pretty wife."

A pause.

You gawked at him. Literally, your jaw dropped open. Naturally, Gojo adorned a very wide grin and he swiftly crossed his arms behind his head.

"Oho… wife now?"

"I know, I know!" he winked, "Can't help it."

"You're kidding."

"Come oooon, let's just get married."

"Satoru!"

"Oh, yeah, baby. Say my name again."

"SATORU."

If only.

If only you weren't further embarrassed when Gojo pressed his lips to yours in a kiss again. And if only you two hadn't kept going all night, you would have never accidentally overslept into the next day. You both fumbled to school to be late to a faculty meeting. Of course, all eyes were on you. Because the staff sure as hell knew what happened judging by the shaken appearances (and bites to your neck that you forgot to hide).

And, if only Gojo didn't make things worse.

"Sorry, all! Guess my wife and I got a little carried away last night! But what are you going to do when two young adults are in love, am I right?"

You had never seen everyone's eyes widen in synch before.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfiction #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #mugi writes

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tightjeansjavi · 2 years ago

Text

Tongue Tied

Joel Miller x f!reader

NSFW 🔞

A/N: I came up with this idea at work 😵‍💫 this one specifically is for @chaotic-mystery you’re welcome bby! This can be read as a stand-alone piece or a blurb/one-shot for ‘Burning in a Hopeless Dream’

Summary: a game of spin the bottle ends exactly how you imagine it to; you and Joel, a headboard banging, and tongues tied.

~word count : 4.2k~

Warnings: possessive! joel, jealous! joel, a lil feral and horny! joel, established relationship, swearing, tension, mentions of alcohol, smut, filth, consent, teasing, fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap that willy) oral (f receiving) a huge fucking praise kink, nicknames, cock warming, like just a whole lot of filth. Y’all get the warnings. (+18) minors dni !

Songs used:

“Small Talk” by Niall Horan

“Tonight you are Mine” by The Technicolors

“Dirty Love” by Mt. Joy

“Talk” by Hozier

It was Joel’s brilliant idea to throw you a ‘we’re so glad the knife didn’t go too deep!’ Party.

For some context, just two months ago, you were stabbed by one of Robert’s henchmen. You nearly bled out on Joel and Tess’s kitchen table. Joel was at your side the entire time you were recovering and now that you fully healed, what better way to celebrate than with a little dark humor, real fucking booze, and good company.

Tess had brought her friend Bea over and you already had your sneaking suspicion that they were an item already. Or, at the very least, they were 1000% fucking. Joel was a little slow with these sorts of things but you knew in time, he would figure it out. Regardless, you were happy for Tess and your friendship was seemingly coming full circle. Hell had certainly freezed over at that point. You, and Tess? Friends? Who would have ever thought that was even fucking possible. I guess you almost bleeding to death on the kitchen table was enough for her to finally end the quarrel between you two.

“Where in the hell did you manage to find some real fucking whiskey Tess?”

You were sitting across Joel’s lap on the couch. His arm was loosely wrapped around your waist, his fingers lightly holding onto the side of your hip where the soft skin there met your thigh. He always had to be touching you somehow. Being affectionate was something that Joel really never understood, nor cared for, but you changed his view on it. Now? He couldn’t get enough of you, or your skin on his. He was painfully addicted, royally and utterly fucked, because of you.

You felt him lightly tap his fingers against the sliver of skin exposed under your t-shirt as he took a sip from his own glass.

“Would you believe me if I told you those Fedra fucks somehow have their own stash of top-shelf booze?”

You brought the rim of the glass to your lips, taking a small sip and you could feel Joel staring at you. Not in a weird, or creepy way. He was admiring you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Makes me hate them just a little bit more than I already do. Seriously though, what did you have to do to get this stuff?”

Tess laughed and took a sip from her own glass as she leaned back against the wall. “A handjob and a real quick one at that. Dude lasted all of 30 seconds. It was pretty pathetic but hey, I wanted to make sure you could taste some of the real fucking stuff for once. You earned it.”

Joel let out a weird noise, covering it with a chuckle over the rim of his glass. He had lightly squeezed your hip.

You weren’t even phased by Tess’s answer in the slightest.

“30 fucking seconds? Now that is honestly really pathetic. I appreciate you putting yourself through that bullshit. This stuff is definitely better than the other crap we’ve been drinking. So thank you again.” You raised your glass in her direction, a small grin on your lips.

Tess mirrored your actions, raising her glass in your direction before taking a sip.

“Just don’t expect me to put myself through that ever again, alright?”

You giggled, leaning back against Joel’s broad chest, shaking your head.

“Oh god, No! I will never expect you to put yourself through that again!”

It was Tess’s idea for everyone to play a friendly game of spin the bottle. As soon as she suggested it, Joel was grumbling about how it was a stupid game for teenagers and that he would not be participating in those kinds of shenanigans.

“Tess. I ain’t playin’ a silly little girls game. That shit is for teenagers. Do I look like a fuckin’ teenager to you?”

“No, but you’re fucking acting like one right now, Texas. Besides, if you get lucky enough, you’ll get to kiss your girl. C’mon, just one round.”

“I ain’t gotta get lucky enough to kiss her. Can kiss her whenever I want.” He gruffly spoke.

You gave him a light jab to his side with your elbow, turning around in his lap and gave him a warning look.

“Keep acting like that and you’re never gonna get to kiss me again cowboy.”

Joel narrowed his eyes at you challengingly. His eyebrow quirked up in your direction as he leaned in close enough for you to taste the warm whiskey on his breath.

“You wanna fuckin’ bet on that one sugar?” He went to brush his thumb against your plush, lower lip when you had given his chest a light shove, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Shuddup. You and I both know you’re not gonna win this one, honey. So get up from this fuckin couch and play this game with us. Or, you’re sleeping alone tonight.”

Joel grumbled something under his breath as he stared at you for a minute longer. He was trying to gauge if you were bullshitting him but by the way you stared right back, he knew you were dead serious.

“Fuckin’ gonna get you back for this sweetheart. You’ll see.”

You reached over and gave his cheek a light, affectionate pat, brushing your thumb against the coarse hair on his beard.

“Mhm. I’m sure you will, cowboy.”

Tess and Bea were already sat on the floor across from each other, an old empty beer bottle between them.

“Jesus fuck. You guys just gonna continue to eye fuck eachother or are we gonna play the game? Just one round, and then we’ll get out of your hair so you guys can rip each other's clothes off.” Tess said with a grin.

Your cheeks heated up at the slightest, from Tess’s crudeness, and the warm whiskey flowing through your veins.

You stood up from the couch, turning to look back at your lover, who was staring right back at you.

“C’mon Joel. Don’t make me ask you again.”

When he rolled his eyes in response, you wasted no time to grab his hand, yanking him up from the couch in one swift movement.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ woman. Alright, alright. I’m up.” He begrudgingly took a seat across from you on the worn carpet.

“We all know the rules, right? I mean..they’re fairly simple anyway.”

“Yeah, Tess. Just fuckin’ get on with it already.” Joel grumbled.

Tess turned to you and pushed the bottle in your direction.

“Think you get the first honors of spinning. Only fair after what you went through.”

You held your hand against your chest in mock shock as Tess gave you the first spin.

“Really? Wow, Tess. I think I’m going to document this moment forever.” You jokingly said.

“Oh, shut up. You’re lucky I actually have learned how to tolerate you. Now go on, spin.”

“I’m so loved.” You said with a giggle before grasping the bottle between your fingers, glancing at the three of them before you spun The bottle.

It spinned a few times before slowly coming to a stop. The opened end of the bottle was pointed directly at Tess.

You glanced at Joel for a moment. His brows were furrowed in slightly as he observed where the bottle was pointing. He was unashamedly looking forward to this, and you could tell just by the way he took his time with bringing the rim of his glass to his lips. His eyes were locked on yours, a smirk appearing.

“Well, you gonna kiss her baby doll?”

You could tell Tess was a little hesitant as she looked at you. You on the other hand? You were already scooting towards her. The liquor was giving you a bit of confidence boost as you reached for her face, gently holding her cheeks in your warm palms.

“You good with this?” You asked, while stroking your thumbs against her soft skin gently.

Tess had given you a slight nod of consent before you leaned in, just lightly brushing your lips against hers, your eyes fluttering shut as you pulled her in close. You teased her for a moment before fully pressing your lips against hers.

Much to everyone’s surprise, Tess kissed you back as she reached up, threading her fingers through your hair.

The kiss lasted all of 30 seconds as you bit down on her lower lip, tugging it out with your teeth before gently releasing it.

Tess had given you one last peck before she pulled back, grabbing what was left of her glass and tossed it down her throat.

“Fuck, I see why you like her so much Miller. She’s a damn fuckin good kisser.”

Joel was looking right at you as he spoke, nodding his head.

“Mhm. She damn well is. Don’t go gettin’ any ideas about stealin’ my girl Tess. She’s all mine, and I don’t take kindly to sharin’.”

You were used to Joel’s possessive nature by now. You lived through it. For some reason, hearing him say ‘my girl’ did something to you. You were absolutely counting down the minutes till Tess and Bea would leave so that you could have Joel all to yourself.

A few more rounds were played, much to Joel’s disapproval. You had ended up kissing Tess a couple more times and when you had slid into her lap at one point, Joel had enough. You could tell he was jealous just by the clench of his jaw, the furrow of his brows and the way he clutched the whiskey glass in his fist. You were afraid if he held it any tighter, the glass would surely break.

Whoops.

Tess and Bea got the memo pretty quick and had left after you crawled out her lap, an innocent look stricken across your pretty face.

“Did ya enjoy yourself sweetheart?” Joel was absentmindedly spinning the bottle now, his gaze falling on you.

“Mhm. Best, ‘we’re so glad the knife didn’t go deeper’ party ever.”

“Mmm. Thought so. You really liked kissin’ on Tess like that huh? You gonna save any of that for me?”

You were leaned back on your elbows as you looked over at him, an eyebrow raised in a suggestive manner.

“You jealous or something cowboy? You looked to be enjoying yourself as well. How about you take a final spin? See if you get lucky tonight.”

“Mmm. I ain’t got nothin’ to be jealous about when I know I get you at the end of the night.”

He spun the bottle once and watched it land facing you. You could both feel the air getting thick with tension. The chemistry was absolutely sizzling, sending all the warning signs that it was about to explode.

“Guess you are getting lucky tonight.”

Joel didn’t even have a moment to respond before you were in his lap, straddling his hips. The tension had shattered when he immediately grasped your hips between his rough, calloused palms. He bunched the thin fabric of your t-shirt up so he could finally touch your warm skin, he felt the goosebumps rising already.

“C’mon pretty girl. Kiss me already, please. You gonna make me beg ya?” He drawled.

You loved having Joel beneath you like this and at your mercy. You loved the way he looked up at you with his deep, puppy dog brown eyes. His lips were held in a slight pout as you brushed your thumb across his lower lip, watching as he nibbled on the tip of your finger.

God, submissive Joel was so fucking sexy.

You leaned down, grabbing his face in your hands before you finally kissed him, slotting your lips together as you held control of the situation. You knew it would only for a short moment before he’d take over. He lowly mumbled against your lips, your tongues tangled, teeth clashing.

“How do you want me tonight baby? You want it sweet? Rough? Filthy?”

He slid his hands up the expanse of your back, his fingers splayed out against your skin.

“All of the above, cowboy. I fucking want it all.”

He flipped you over onto your back with ease, yanking you down so you were underneath him. He was gripping your chin between his fingers, while his thumb brushed against your lower lip. Now you were looking up at him, anticipating his next move, while you wrapped your lips around the tip of his thumb, eyelashes fluttering. The sight of you beneath him, looking so needy, so pretty for him, had his cock twitching in his jeans.

“Look at you baby. You look so fuckin pretty for me honey. Fuck. Don’t look at me with those eyes. Y’know what those things do to me? Fuckin’ got me meltin’ like putty.” His Texas accent was thick, warm, deep, and it settled deliciously between your legs. You were aching for him already.

“Joel. Baby, please. C’mon.”

“Shh. I know, pretty girl. Gonna treat you real good, okay? You know I will. I got you, you got me. Now wrap your legs ‘round me. Ain’t gonna fuck you on the floor. Next time, Kay sugar? Want you on the bed.”

Joel didn’t have to ask you twice as you wrapped your thighs around his hips while he lifted you up into his arms with ease, grasping you by the outside of your thighs.

He managed to reattach his lips to yours while he carried you down the hall, using his hip to push open your shared bedroom. You only had a moment to breathe when he had tossed you onto the mattress. Your lips were swollen, and your face flushed as you watched him pull his shirt over his head with one hand.

It easily was one of the sexiest things a man could do. Even more sexy because Joel Miller was your man. Your fellow, your guy.

You let out a soft, heart clenching giggle as he crawled on top of you, peppering your face with warm kisses. His beard lightly scraped at your skin but you didn’t mind. You fucking loved it.

“Fuckin’ damn near lost my mind when you kissed Tess like that. Fuckin’ filthy of you to climb in her lap. What would have happened if I wasn’t in the room? Hmm sweet girl? Bet you woulda kept goin’.”

His kisses moved from your face to your jaw, and down your neck. He was sucking greedily at your tender flesh. His teeth, lips and tongue worked in a steady flow as he left his marks upon you. He loved the way you would grip his hair, and scrape your nails against his scalp. The feeling had his eyes rolling back into his skull.

“Joel..” you whimpered out his name as he continued to mark you up.

“Yeah, baby? Is it too much? Want me to stop?” He mumbled against your skin. His fingers were pushing your shirt back up, exposing more of your skin. His fingertips lightly brushed against your navel.

“Don’t stop, please. I need more. Joel, baby give me more.”

“Needy little thing for me, huh? Don’t want me to take my time with ya? Mmm..I think you can be a little patient, right sweet girl?”

“Touch me or so help me god—“

His fingers were at the waistband of your jeans, he had popped the button open and was now toying with the zipper.

He loved holding you over the edge like this.

“What’re gonna do about it if I don’t give you what you want, honey? C’mon. Be a good girl for me.”

You let out a frustrated huff, a whine slipping past your throat because you were that fucking desperate for his touch. You absolutely craved it.

“Joel, please. Want you, want your fingers, your tongue. Want it all, please. Please just fucking touch me.”

He chuckled while he slowly dragged your zipper down, slipping his fingers between the waistband of your jeans and your panties.

“Mmm. Well, since you said please…”

He brushed his fingers against your clit, watching as your pretty lips fell open and he drank it all in.

“Take your shirt off for me, sugar. Play with your pretty tits while I play with your pussy, Kay? Fuckin’ wet for me already. Absolutely drippin.’ That for me, or Tess?”

“Both.” You deadpanned as you wasted no time to lift your shirt above your head, tossing it to the side.

Joel couldn’t help but lean down and wrap his lips around one of your peaked buds as he sank his teeth against the sensitive skin, causing your body to jolt up slightly.

He had used his free hand, that wasn’t teasing you, to push your jeans down your legs. He yanked them down past your ankles, along with your panties.

All it took was for him to tap your thigh lightly and you were spreading your legs for him as if on command.

Damn him.

“Absolutely fuckin filthy. Look at you baby. Drippin’ for me, and Tess.”

He was teasing your slick folds, watching your face the entire time, with intensity. He watched your mouth go slack when he had slowly slipped in two of his fingers, pumping them slowly. He loved the way your eyes rolled back when he curled them against the soft, spongy texture of your walls.

Your moans filled the small room deliciously. He couldn’t wait to have you screaming so loud, the neighbors and patrolling FEDRA fucks would be able to hear you from outside.

“Feels good, huh baby? I gotta have a taste. Will you let me, sweet girl? Will you let me have a taste of your pretty little pussy?”

You grabbed his face, roughly pulling him down to you by his chin. You kissed him hard, tasting the smooth whiskey on his tongue, knocking the air out of your lungs and his. “Have a taste, cowboy.”

You pulled away from the searing kiss, your fingers still wrapped around his soft curls as you guided his head down, with zero hesitation.

“Fuckin’ don’t have to ask me twice.” He gruffly responded as he dragged his lips down your navel, scooting himself lower, on his knees. He used his free hand to yank you closer to him, holding his hand down against your stomach firmly with his arm wrapped around you, locking you in place.

He wasted no time to press a kiss to your aching cunt, dragging his tongue across your clit as he continued to curl his fingers. The combination was mind-numbing.

He had you moaning his name as if it was a fucking prayer. Each swipe of his tongue, each time he hit that spot that had you seeing stars, your moans would rise an octave. All for him. Your fellow, your guy.

“Sound so fuckin pretty for me baby. So fuckin pretty.” He mumbled against you, his mouth full of your pussy.

“F-f—fuck Joel. I’m—fuck. So good baby. So fuckin good.”

“Don’t come for me yet honey. Not yet, I know, sweet girl. Don’t give in.”

His beard was slightly scraping against your inner thighs, he shook his head back and forth, causing his nose to bump against your aching clit and your thighs to close in around his head. He surely had deep scratches along his scalp from how hard you were digging your nails into him.

“J—Joel! Fuck—stop! Stop! I can’t—baby I can’t hold on much longer!

His tongue was fiercely lapping at you now, your thighs squeezing, trembling around his head. You never thought the overwhelming euphoria would end till he lifting his mouth from you. His beard, and lips were coated in your arousal. His pupils darkened as he looked up at you.

Your other hand was toying with your breasts, pinching the sensitive nubs between your fingers as you panted, catching your breath as you looked down at your lover.

“Can I have a taste, please?” You breathed out.

He slipped his fingers out, they were coated in your arousal as he sat up on his knees, bringing them down to your lips, smearing them with your cum before he slipped them in. He watched as you wrapped your lips around his fingers, dragging your tongue across the ridges, your eyes fiercely locked on his.

“So fuckin’ pretty for me. You like the way you taste baby? You taste so fuckin’ sweet darlin’.”

He slipped his fingers out slowly, replacing them with his lips as he kissed you hard. Slipping his tongue past your lips with ease. There was something so erotic about you and him tasting your cum together.

You hear the sound of his belt clanking, his jeans dragging down his legs as he rid himself of his clothes, tossing them onto the floor with yours.

You were already pulling him in as close as possible when you felt his tip pressing against the side of your thigh, while his other hand was firmly wrapped around the headboard.

“Gonna scream for me darlin.’? Gonna let the neighbors fuckin’ know you’re mine?” He had detached his lips from yours, momentarily. His forehead gently resting against yours as he dragged his tip against your slick folds, letting out a low hiss.

“Loud enough that they’re gonna think I’m getting murdered, cowboy.”

“Mmm. That’s exactly what I fuckin like to hear. You ready baby? I got you, you got me.”

Joel always knew how to get your heart skipping a beat, and the butterflies in your stomach flapping. Even when you were fucking.

“I got you, you got me.” You let out a soft sigh when he slowly pressed into you, you loved the way he filled you up to the brim, each time. He stretched you deliciously. Nothing about Joel Miller was small, and you fucking loved it.

“Fuckin’ hell. So tight for me. So fuckin tight. Goddamn. Don’t think I’m ever gonna get used to being buried inside this pretty pussy. Grippin’ me so well. So good for me baby.” Joel praised you as he sank into your warmth.

His pubic bone was nudging yours. That’s how deep he was enveloped inside you.

Just where he always wanted to be.

“S’okay? Feelin’ good honey?’ He pressed a kiss to your jaw, nipping lightly at your chin as he dipped his head down.

You nodded, glancing down at where your bodies were connected while you brought your arms around his neck, threading your fingers through the back of his hair.

“S’good baby.”

He let out a breath of air as he drew his hips back before thrusting them forward, he repeated this motion a few more times, listening to the sound his hips would make when they smacked against your skin.

You brought your leg around his hip, digging the heel of your foot into his ass, pushing him in deeper as he started to pick up the pace, his jaw going slack as you clenched around him.

The headboard was smacking against the wall, the shitty mattress squeaking beneath the weight of his thrusts.

The room was thick in the stench of sex, and two lovers in the middle of it all.

Joel’s groans entwined with your moans as he rammed into you. His fingers were holding onto your hip so tightly, you surely would have bruises in the morning.

“That’s it baby doll. Takin’ me so fuckin’ good. Always so good for me baby. Fuckin’ can stay buried in you all fuckin’ night. Drunk off this pretty little pussy. Drunk off you darlin’.” His words came out jagged, in between groans as he dipped his head down to capture your lips once more.

Your tongues tied, teeth clashing, senses on overdrive.

This is where you always wanted to be.

His thrusts grew sloppy, uncoordinated as he came close to hitting his high. In the midst of his peaking orgasm, Joel was always attentive to make sure you got there before him. So it came as no surprise when he had released your hip from his harsh grip, and brought his hand down between where your bodies were connected and rubbed his thumb against your clit.

“That’s it, pretty girl. So fuckin close. You gonna cum for me honey? C’mon, I’ve got you. You’re safe. C’mon baby, let go!”

Your eyes rolled back into your skull as you came around him, clenching around his thick cock as your thighs quivered, and shook. He came shortly after you, his body shuttering as his orgasm rippled through him. He groaned out your name, his own personal prayer as he came undone, collapsing into your arms in a sweaty heap.

You both laughed as you came to your senses. Your fingers were gently playing with his sweaty hair, his cheek was pressed against your chest, his eyes blissfully closed. He refused to move, even as he went soft inside of you, his cum dripping down your thighs. You both felt safe here in each other's arms.

“That’s the last time you’re gonna say no to playing spin the bottle with me, right?” You whispered, your eyes closed as you rested your chin against the top of his sweat soaked head.

He hummed, bringing his arms around you, holding you close. “Mmm. Never gonna say no to you again baby. Never again.”

He was too tired to move, you were spent as well, so it came natural for him to fall asleep inside of you. Notched together, bodies entwined, right where you both always wanted to be.

5K notes · View notes

alphabetboyluvr · 4 months ago

Text

LANDSLIDES - 002 | GUILTY AS SIN - JJK

part title credit: guilty as sin - taylor swift

these fatal fantasies giving way to laboured breath... they don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly... without ever touching his skin how can i be guilty as sin?

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)

premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn’t ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he’s yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being ‘you’ to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do. (part one link)

warnings: slow burn (emphasis on slow, emphasis on burn), miscommunication, missed opportunities, missing jungkook, inappropriate mentions of masturbation between friends, frustration (sexually and emotionally!)

wordcount: 18K

note from holly: this was supposed to be a 30k chunk but the 1000 paragraph limit told me no </3 so instead, this is part 1 - part 2 will come tomorrow :)

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

When Jungkook comes to stand by your desk, his freshly pressed suit unspoiled from his morning commute and with a coffee in either hand, you know he must be up to something.

"Let me guess," you hum. "You dipped your nib in the company ink again and need me to do damage control?"

It wouldn't be the first time, and the new secretary has been ogling him ever since she started just before the Chuseok break. You've joked about it a few times, but you really wouldn't put it past him.

Popping your coffee on your desk, Jungkook toys with his tie a little, smoothing it down. "Why do you always think so little of me, you little gremlin?"

His pouty whine would be believable if you didn't know him as well as you do. Glancing up from your screen, you're greeted with a smirk. Even he can't keep up his pretence of innocence. "You know exactly why."

"I'm a good boy," he promises. "Got you coffee and everything this morning!"

"Because you want something," you laugh. "I wasn't born yesterday, Jungkook."

"Can a friend not get a friend a coffee just because?"

"Yes—but you don't."

In fact, Jungkook normally waits until midday for his first coffee. Treats it like a reward for getting through the morning without any caffeine. He's gone out of his way today—or just ordered coffee to the office to make it look like he has. Regardless, an effort has been made.

He takes a second. Purses his lips. Narrows his eyes.And then he smiles. "Fine. I need a favour."

"See, I knew it was too good to be true!"

"Oh, c'mon!" He laughs. "I'd get you coffee if you asked."

"I asked last week when I was running late, and you told me to wake up earlier and get it myself!"

"Well, it was your own fault for being out until arse o'clock in the morning!"

Your fault, you think but don't vocalise. It's not like you'd been out with him. You'd been on a date. Another with Mingyu. Hadn't stuck to your word of cooling things off. Spooked yourself with those dreams about Jungkook. Needed to bring yourself back to reality.

If he hadn't asked you to dogsit, you never would have gotten so caught in the domestication of it all. It's your biggest weakness and he damn well knows it. If anything, he should be thanking you for choosing to realign your focus instead of leaning into silly little thoughts about him. It also helps that in the cold, harsh light of Monday mornings, the thoughts just make you cringe more than anything.

"Sorry, Dad," you roll your eyes. "Didn't realise I had to ask your permission."

Jungkook's lips purse in the gentlest of ways, corners upturning ever so slightly. He shakes his head. "You're cranky this morning."

"And you're up to something," you reply. Have barely even had a chance to look over your weekend emails yet, let alone prepare yourself for Jungkook being a nuisance. His department is two floors up. There's no need for him to be here.

In the corner of your screen, an email pings through. Though your glance is quick, it connects a flurry of dots together.

Subject: International Food Expo - we're in!

The company you work at is the head office of a chain restaurant. Jungkook works in franchising—negotiations, specifically. Gets the restaurant placed in the best locations. Recently landed a spot in Starfield Mall. Got himself a nice little bonus.

You're over in the interior design team. It's a small cohort, just three of you, but you're responsible for ensuring cohesion amongst all the spaces. It's up to you that customers get the same feel whether they're in Seoul or Sokcho.

Both starting the job at the same time, directly after graduation, Jungkook had approached you with a strategy in mind. Roped you into creating the interior mood boards and mapping out the spaces before they'd even been acquired. Gave life to them that made it so much easier for investors to imagine.

It had been seen by management as a waste of resources before then—why waste time creating hypotheticals?

They just hadn't yet experienced Jungkook, and all of his charm, pitching for them, using your content to tip negotiations in his favour. It's a partnership that works. Is a practice now adopted by the company across the board, thanks to the pair of you. It's why you work together so often, even if you're on completely different floors and dealing with such vastly different tasks.

"I've been asked to go along," he says, nodding towards the screen. "Little old me is our brand ambassador for the week."

"Congrats," you beam, knowing that Jungkook is the best man for the job. He loves the company. Really believes in the restaurant. Clicking into the email, you scan the details. "A week of schmoozing, huh? However will you cope?"

He's about to joke about how tiresome it'll be, but then you hum in confusion.

"Jeju?" You question, looking at the location. You scroll, just to check you aren't imagining things—but there it is, clear as day. Location: International Conference Center, Jeju. "All the way in bloody Jeju?!"

"It's for international markets," he says, putting his best guess out there. "Seoul's been done a hundred times over for different Expos. Busan, too. I think they're trying to attract more foreign companies—and would the CEO's rather send themselves on city breaks or island getaways? Anyway, that's actually the favour I wanted to ask you..."

It all sort of clicks into place, now. "Bam?"

With a sweet nod, Jungkook offers a gentle smile. "You know there's no one I'd rather look after him. The trip is four days, Tuesday to Friday. If it's too much, I can book him into a kennel, but—"

"No," you shake your head. "Don't do that. You know I'm happy to look after him."

"Sure?"

Jungkook would rather die than leave Bam at a Kennel for the week. He doesn't trust anyone with his baby unless they've proved themselves, but the way you happily cuddle up with Bam on the floor of Jungkook's apartment on any given day of the week is proof enough to him that you love him, too.

If he's gonna trust anyone with his most prized possession, it'd be you.

"One condition," you bargain, 'cause you know that you can. Jungkook'll do anything to have you agree.

"Go on..."

"Have you replaced all the cheese I ate last time I looked after him?"

He narrows his eyes. "Yes."

"Good," you beam. "And could you be a babe and make me some of your pad kee mao? The sauce at least? I can do the rest."

If there's one thing Jungkook will never fail to impress you with, it's his cooking—but your favourite of all of his dishes is his Thai drunken chicken noodles. He imports the special basil needed for it. Goes an extra mile to make sure it's just right. You haven't been to your favourite Thai place since you learned just how well he makes the dish. Will just send him a text when you fancy it, and end up at his place an hour or so later with beers from the convenience store and ice cream sandwiches to chuck in his freezer for dessert.

"That it?" He laughs. "Cheese and noodles? God, you are easily pleased."

"I'm a woman of refined tastes," you say, pompously poised.

Jungkook knows you well enough to know you're no such thing, but he needs this favour, so he doesn't bite. Just says, "And you're sure?"

"I'm sure," you promise. "Now leave me alone. I've got work to do—and thanks for the coffee."

He nods, that little smile of his affecting you far more than it really should. You can't help it. The lighting in your office is far nicer than the rest of the establishment. Makes him look... well, makes him look like himself. Like 'home' Jungkook. The same one who hangs out with you in sweats and messy hair on Sunday mornings, not the suited and clean-shaven Jungkook who swaggers through the corridors of your workplace.

Three of you work in your specific office, and you're all interior designers. Changing the bulbs was one of the first things you did. Lea, your manager, is the most senior in your team. Below you is Jiwon. A fresh graduate, she's still learning the ropes, and as much as you like her, you really wish she wouldn't go all heart-eyed over Jungkook every time he enters the room.

It's not her fault. The warm bulbs just bring out all of those terrible, intrusive little stars in his chocolatey brown eyes. They're terrible, 'cause they're stolen from other people; intrusive, 'cause as he walks away and your gaze follows him, it seems like they've landed in your eyes, too. A secret shared that neither of you even realises exists.

"How do you do it?" Jiwon sighs once Jungkook is out of earshot. "I'd melt if he looked at me like that."

"He looks at everyone like that," you deflect. "And trust me, he's just as disgusting as he is charming. Don't let the tailored suits fool you."

It's been a little while since Jungkook last used the copier room for indecent affairs that would have gotten anyone else into a meeting with HR. Workplace violations are far easier to get away with when you're doing them with someone from the HR department, after all.

Jiwon joined the team just as Jungkook was curbing his bad behaviour. Granted, you know about more of it than most, but everyone who was lucky enough to grab his attention for more than five seconds used it as bragging rights for months.

One thing that you did enjoy about Jungkook's slut era was the lack of women he ever took home. Didn't want to introduce new people to Bam, if they were only going to be fleeting endeavours.

But you're his friend, not a casual fuck. He knew that bringing you into the fold wouldn't be fast nor fleeting. It'd be a lifetime kinda thing.

Which is what makes you feel so guilty as you stand by the water cooler a little later that morning, daydreaming about being back in his space again. Silly little thoughts about facetime calls when you were wrapped up in his sheets, and he was back at his parents' place in Busan. Memories of lazing the days away with Bam, and the look on Jungkook's face as he finally arrived home after a few days away.

You've seen him at home a million times over, but there was something different about him then. Serene. At peace. You know that he was probably just happy to be back with his baby, and tired from driving, but the lazy smile that had hung off his lips, round glasses framing his equally round eyes, just seemed... new.

Your thoughts are cut off by your boss—not Lea, but your actual boss, Mr Seo—calling you into his office. A little flustered, you realise that you've been running the water for too long. Your bottle has overfilled, and the excess tray is almost full, too.

"Hi," you greet him all rather pleasantly, waiting to be told to sit before you actually do so. "What can I help you with?"

A burly man in his late 50s, he built the brand from the ground up. It's been his life's work, and so he's selective with his staff. If you aren't pulling your weight to make the company a success, then he doesn't want you tying your name to it.

When you and Jungkook started going rogue in the early days, he hadn't been happy—but Jungkook had blagged a probation extension for the pair of you. Had told Mr Seo he'd work for free, if he could just prove his strategy would work.

In the version of events Jungkook tells you, he pretends that Mr Seo agreed without docking his pay. Filed away in the back of his cabinet which houses his contracts, past and present, Jungkook has a written agreement with Mr Seo, and a month's worth of missing wages in his salary from that year.

Your pay was never docked, though. Jungkook's a damn good negotiator, and was just as competent back then, too. He was the one that got you into that damn mess in the first place, so it was only fair that he keep you as clean as he could.

What you do know is that you both cut it incredibly fine to losing your jobs before they ever really began. While Mr Seo respects you both for what you've done for the company since then, it still scares you a little bit.

"I trust you've seen the email regarding the Expo, yes?" He says, nodding towards the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

You take it in a hurried fashion, quickly sitting down because, quite frankly, it feels like your legs are jelly. "Yes, yes. Very exciting! I'm sure Jungkook will bring the company great results."

He nods. Agrees. "And I also trust you've been making plans for our stand?"

You learned of the expo approximately fifty minutes prior. Like fuck have you made any plans.

"Oh, of course!" You bullshit. "As long as we can work out the logistics with shipping our materials to the island in time, it should be brilliant."

How the fuck you're supposed to plan a stand at an Expo for a week's time on a different bloody island is beyond you.

You'll get it done. You always do. You'll just be incredibly stressed about it until the event begins.

"Naturally," he nods. I know the turnaround is tight, so we'd like you to go with Jungkook to oversee the preparations. He arrives on Tuesday, but the event doesn't start until Wednesday evening, so you'll have a day to finalise things."

"Oh," you say, unable to hide your surprise.

"Flight and accommodation will be covered by us, and Jungkook's getting a healthy bonus for any deals signed at the Expo—I'm sure we can make a cut for you, too. After all, you two are our very own dream team."

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. You want to go. Of course you want to. A trip to Jeju with one of your closest friends? Under the guise of work? All expenses paid? Who wouldn't want to go?!

But without you in the city, there's no one to look after Bam. Sure, Jungkook could take him to a kennel, but you know what he's like. He'll spend the entire time stressed. Won't be able to relax and engage with people in such a way that deals will be cut. Punters usually like him for his carefree nature. Without it? Well, you're sure they'd like him all the same, but you don't want to tempt fate.

"Mr Seo," you awkwardly begin, uncertain which answer will slip out of your mouth. "I'm afraid I already have commitments in the city that I can't cancel. I'm not available."

Silence lingers for a moment. Just a second. It feels like an eternity.

"Very well," he accepts.

"I'm sorry," you quickly apologise, knowing that you probably look like an ungrateful employee. If there's one thing you are, it's a fixer, and so before you can even comprehend what you're saying, you're throwing solutions into the void. "But I know Jiwon is just itching to get more involved with different sides of the business. I can get her on board with my planning this week and coach her on Jungkook's strategies. I'm sure she'd be eager to work hard, if she were given the opportunity."

Mr Seo mulls over your proposition—one of you which you already regret—then nods. "Alright. I'll trust your judgement. Can you send her down to my office?"

"Sure!" You say with a little too much glee, before you retreat back to your office with your tail between your legs. Lea is at a meeting, so once Jiwon has been sent on her way, it's just you, your water bottle, and a whole lot of regret.

Laying your head on your desk, you let out a little whimper.

It's for the best. For the company, for Jungkook, for you. For the sanctity of your friendship. For your sanity.

A message dinging through on your work chat interrupts your self-pity party. Glancing up, head still on the desk, you see Jungkook's name in the corner of your screen.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: oi you little gremlin

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: i could have booked him into a kennel

"Shut up," you groan at your screen.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: it would have been fun :(

Sitting up with a sigh, you poise yourself to send a message back. Find that nothing wants to come out. Your fingers hover above your keyboard with uncertainty. Takes a full minute before you can muster anything up.

Two floors above you, Jungkook is slumped in his desk chair. Has an office of his own, 'cause it's easier for the amount of meetings he has.

In the background of his screen, an email thread with Mr Seo details how Jungkook was the one to ask Mr Seo if you could join him. Explained how it just made sense. Offered part of his bonus package up with it. Said he'd cover the extra expenses if necessary, but that he thought it would be beneficial to the company to have you there, too.

While you're the person Jungkook trusts the most with Bam, you're not the only one. He could always ask Jimin or Taehyung before resorting to a kennel.

As your reply comes through, another email from Mr Seo is delivered, too.

RE: IFE JEJU, Interior Des. Department

Jungkook—

Have spoken with Jiwon. She will accompany you.

Any problems, let me know.

Mr Seo

With a sigh, Jungkook shakes his head. This isn't what he wanted at all.

And when he checks your message, he only frowns even deeper. Unlike you, he's renamed your contact details on his list. Everyone else still has their work-focused username.

Gremlin: It's your lucky day

Gremlin: You get a hot young thing to keep you company instead, wooo

Gremlin: HR if you're reading this, ignore it

Gremlin: Try not to be too miserable without me

He sinks down a little further into his chair. Purses his lips. Would far rather be alone than with anyone that isn't you.

Chewing on his bottom lip, he decides that maybe this is for the best. While he does think it would be good for the company, he knows that isn't why he suggested it. He just remembers what happened last time he spent more than a weekend away from you. Is scared it'll happen again.

Or maybe it's the opposite. Maybe he wants it to happen again. Just you and him, away from the confines of life as you know it.

Thing is, you'd have to return home at some point. If anything ever happened between you both, it'd change the very fabric of your friendship. He doesn't want that.

So instead, he decides to reply in the same way he would have done maybe a year or so prior.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: She'll fall in love with me

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: They always do

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: Don't say I didn't warn you.

In the warm lighting of Jungkook's living room, the main light is off, lamps providing you with just enough clarity to go over the files on his coffee table.

Over by the sink, Jungkook is washing up your plates from dinner, while Bam leans against his legs. Your overnight bag is still by the door, and Jungkook's glasses are in your hair, keeping it out of your eyes. Highlighter in hand, you're picking out key markets for Jungkook to make contact with over in Jeju.

"Avoid Babiyeo," you tell him, switching over to a thin red pen, putting a star next to their name.

"As in the leisure centres?" Jungkook hums, familiar with the company but not well-versed. The soft melody of his playlist carries a tune around you both, keeping your thoughts connected and in sync.

"Mhmm," you say, flicking over to the next paper. "The CEO's son is in legal trouble at the moment. They're keeping it fairly well covered up, but to do that they're making huge expansions they can't afford. Keeping the news positive, things like that. I reckon they'll go bust before the end of the year."

"Shit," Jungkook lets a breathy laugh escape his lips. Had no idea—but you've both got friends working in various industries. Have your arms dipped into numerous grapevines. Drying up the last of his bowls, he turns to face you and is unable to continue on with his words.

He gets it. Understands why domestication is your biggest vice when it comes to feeling things you shouldn't.

"Acorn Limited are also bad news," you add, putting a little star next to their name.

"Yeah?"

Jungkook puts the now-dry bowl on the counter and walks towards where you're sitting on his living room floor. He joins. Sits on the opposite side of the table. Lets Bam clamber over his legs, and encourages him to sit, too.

"Yeah," you nod, then look across at Jungkook. "They're a hot-shot protein company. Are trying to get themselves partnerships with different restaurants. The guy running it is some twat from Singles Inferno. Company'll be done by the next quarter."

"Some of them do alright, y'know. Reality stars are raking it in—"

"He's besties with the Babiyeo CEO's son," you tell him with a knowing smile. "Kept getting pictured together outside clubs. Whatever baby Babiyeo has been up to, I'm willing to bet the acorn guy has been, too."

Jungkook presses his lips together. Accepts your expertise. Nods, then sighs, "You should be coming on the trip. I can't do this without you."

Yes, he can. He's more than capable. Has closed more deals than most people have had hot dinners.

What he means is that he doesn't want to do it without you, but admitting such a thing verges on territory that Jungkook doesn't feel comfortable entering.

In the house he likes to call his mind, he's bolted the door of the annexe. Occasionally, he will sit and stare at the locks. Wonder if maybe he made a mistake locking you—or more specifically, the idea of you—away in there.

But then he watches Bam choose to shuffle around to your side of the coffee table, and watches as he rests his head on your leg. His snout is by your knee, sniffing at your bare skin with his wet nose. There's something familiar about you. Safe. You don't smell like Jungkook, but you still manage to smell like home, in a way.

"Bam would be even more lost without me," you softly say, scratching behind his ear, and it does admittedly give Jungkook a little solace.

"True," Jungkook accepts, then sighs.

It's getting late and he's got to be up early for his flight. Is leaving for his flight at just gone 3AM, so you're staying over. Crashing on the couch, 'cause having a home gym was more important than setting up a spare room. Thankfully you've never known a couch to be so cosy. Have fallen asleep on it a dozen times over, and it's yet to make you ache in the mornings.

It's all very normal, how you set into a routine. He lets you wash up first. Sorts out Bam while you sort out yourself. Doesn't need to, but writes you out a list of feeding times and emergency numbers. Grabs a spare blanket—one Bam hasn't slept on, but by the morning definitely will have—and turns the sofa into something that really does resemble a bed.

"Sure you're gonna be alright out here?" He asks when you come back through.

He ignores the teeny tiny shirt and even tinier shorts you like to call pyjamas. Or at least he does as much as he can. Doesn't mean to look at your ass. Does it regardless. Four times.

"Yeah," you promise, grabbing a bottle of water from his fridge. There are containers full of his speciality noodle sauce and enough cheese to keep you very happy for the next few days. He got an extra block of the one he knows you like the most as a thank you. "Go to bed. Get your beauty sleep, uggers."

"Hey, you need it just as much as I do," he assures you, then tips his head and makes a small click with his tongue. "C'mon, Bammie, bedtime."

The sound of his paws tapping across Jungkook's hardwood floors is ever-so-soothing. It's hard to be in a house with a pet and not inherently feel like home, you think.

"Night night, Bammie," you coo after him. He turns back. Tilts his head, just like his daddy. Trots on over to you for a few more scratches behind his ears. Doesn't leave until you tell him, "Go find your daddy."

Glancing up to Jungkook with a sweet little scrunch of your nose, you hadn't called him that name to take the piss for a change. The scrunch of your nose is actually an outward display of your inward cringe. Jungkook just scrunches his up right back.

"Gross," he whispers, then holds his hand out for Bam to sniff. "Night, Gremlin."

"Night, Kook."

The sharp sound of Bam's bark snaps you awake. The room is dark, but enough light bleeds in through the blinds for you to see Jungkook awkwardly trying to shush him. Rucksack slung over one shoulder, he's holding a bag with his other hand.

"Leaving without saying bye?" You sleepily mumble, rubbing at your eyes with a yawn.

"Didn't wanna wake you," he whispers. Bam, apparently, had different ideas. "He knows I'm leaving."

"What time is it?" you ask, still totally out of it.

"Just gone three," Jungkook says. It'll take him an hour to get across to Incheon, and even though he knows it won't take him much time to get through security, he still likes to be on time. Would have been easier if he was flying from Gimpo, but he's guessing Incheon must have been cheaper.

Nodding, you adjust your body to sit up, and reach out for one of the files on the coffee table. Hold it across for him.

Popping down his bags, Jungkook takes it with great interest.

"Here. I was having a think before bed. Did a little research on an American company that's gonna be at the Expo. Their head marketer has shares in a bunch of baseball-related companies. Get pally with him," you mumble, thoughts not really cognitive, but you've written it all down for him regardless. "Talk to him about the K-league, or something, I dunno. I reckon Mr Seo would shit his pants if we expanded into stadiums and sports venues."

Jungkook flicks over the notes. Nods. Doesn't know how the fuck you manage to find out half the shit you do, but knows you're wasted on the interior design department.

"See," he softly whines. "This is why you should be coming with me."

"You'll be fine," you promise him, then yawn a little bit all over again. You woke up at the worst possible time.

"You can take my bed, y'know," Jungkook offers. "I'll be gone in a minute or so. It's all yours."

Would be weird getting into his bed while it's still warm, you think.

Shaking your head, terribly covering a yawn, you insist it's fine. He begs to differ, so you double down—until all very suddenly, your notes are tossed onto the sofa beside you, and Jungkook is pulling you over his shoulder. Yelping from the surprise, you don't have time to cognitively respond, let alone demand to be put down.

He wouldn't listen anyways. Instead, he walks you across to his room, and tosses you down on his half-made bed. It's a little haphazard, he finds himself leaning a little too far forward. Almost ends up on there with you. Finds that his blood pumps just a little faster through his veins for a nanosecond.

God, he wishes he wasn't leaving.

Or that you were coming with him, at least.

Can't bear to tear himself away from you when you're all sleepy and sweet and—Oh get a grip, man.

"There," he says triumphantly, pushing his thoughts well out of reach. "Now, go back to sleep, alright? I'll let you know when I fly."

Sitting up on your heels, you find yourself unsure of how to say goodbye—and so you don't really say much at all. Just mumble, "Fly safe."

"Will do," he nods, then exits his room to give Bam a farewell that is just as rough and tumble as yours had been. "Be good for the gremlin, Bammie."

"Fuck off!" You call through, knowing that you'll forever be known as a gremlin, even on your deathbed, you're sure. Tucking yourself under his duvet, you're secretly comforted by how warm his bed still is. Smells just like him, too. "Bye Kook."

"Sleep tight!"

With that, the door slams shut, and everything feels a little colder. Bam whines by the door. Scratches at it a little. Begs for Jungkook to come home.

"Bammie," you call through. "C'mere!"

The way he excitedly bounds through Jungkook's apartment and jumps up onto the bed is borderline comical. He's not used to people being in the house after Jungkook goes out. Thought he was alone—but now he knows he's not, he's quite content. Nuzzles his snout into the duvet and flops his body down on yours. Doesn't realise he's not still a puppy, but you don't mind.

Moments like these make you realise that you definitely did make the right decision.

But moments that come a little later fill you with regret—like the picture that is sent to the office by Jungkook on the work messenger. Working hard or hardly working? He captions it.

The photo is of the booth that's been set up to look like a beach house version of the restaurant. The intention was for it to look like a 'Jeju' branch, of which you're yet to open— but it looks bloody fantastic. How you were able to wrangle contractors and suppliers in such a last-minute rush was nothing short of a miracle.

And yet—

Good work guys!

Wow, looks great!

Jungkook and Jiwon, doing us proud!

Dream team! Good luck!

It's that last one that really bothers you. Dream team. Exactly what you and Jungkook have always been called in the office—but you're easily replaced, apparently. It's your own fault. You're the one who said she should go instead.

It doesn't stop you from walking around with a face of thunder for the whole day. Not a scrap of work gets done. All you can do is lament your choices.

Still, you get to go home to Bam, and that does admittedly soften the blow.

"Show me him," Jungkook immediately whines when he calls later that evening.

You shake your head. "Tell me about the day first."

"That's so not fair."

"Quicker you tell me, quicker I show–"

"Fine," he scowls at you, but softens his expression almost immediately. Yawns. His shoulders press up to his ears as the rest of his face scrunches up. He's lying down on his hotel bed, the crisp white sheets not too dissimilar from his ones back home that you'll be curled up in later that night. "The set up was fine. Most of the vendors are here already. I'm so mad we didn't manage to snag a slot in the catering tent, yanno? Give people a chance to try our menu, but whatever. There's always next year, right?"

"Right," you nod. Yawn, too—and then adorably so does Bam. "It's our first year there. We're just making our presence known. Bigger and better things next year."

"Exactly. Now show me Bam."

His impatience makes you smile. You're just about to tap the switch camera icon, when a sweet, feminine voice echoes through your speaker.

"Did you say something, Jungkook?"

He glances over the sound of the voice, and then flicks his eyes back to you. Gets a read on your face as quickly as he can before you flip the camera, 'cause you're not really sure how much your face is giving away, but you know your surprise wasn't hidden.

"Er, no," he says to the girl. "Just checking in back home—"

"Oh, is that your puppy?" the voice, of which you know all too well, squeals. There's a slight ruffle of sheets as Jiwon tucks herself beside Jungkook. Hair a little damp, the straps of her top are loose against her skin. "Oh my gosh, isn't he the sweetest."

"Isn't he just?" you reply with a smile so fucking fake that it's a good job the camera isn't on you. There's a look on Jungkook's face that you don't really understand. He almost looks guilty—but there's nothing to feel guilty about. He can do what he likes. "Gonna take him for a walk in a bit, then I'm just gonna pop out for half an hour to see Mingyu."

"Are you taking Bam with you?" Jungkook asks, brows a little hard, the ridge between them nicely defined.

"Hadn't planned on it," you chirp, your face just as hard as his. "But I can take him to meet Mingyu, if you like?"

Jungkook swallows. Tries to pretend as if his jaw isn't tense. Is incredibly stern when he says, "Rather him not meet new people when I'm not around."

"Sure," you say, then flick the camera back to you. Are pleased to see nonchalance sitting prettily on your features, no matter how perplexed you might feel."I should be off, though! Call me if you need anything."

"Wait!" Jiwon says quickly, clearly unaware of the weirdness between you and Jungkook. She sees you bickering all the time, so must just figure this is what you're like when you're not ripping each other's heads off. "Just wanted to say thank you—I'm so glad I'm here."

Jungkook's eyes focus on your face as Jiwon gives even more thanks. He doesn't understand the sudden attitude you've developed. All he wanted was to see Bam, but you've a face like a slapped arsed and are trying to hang up. It's fuckin' rude, and if Jiwon wasn't there, he'd tell you so.

He lets you hang up. Doesn't ask you to stay.

"She alright?" Jiwon innocent chirps after you go. "She seems a little..."

"Just tired," Jungkook dismisses. "I woke her up at like, three this morning when I was leaving."

"Oh? She was at your place?"

It's really none of Jiwon's business, but Jungkook chalks it up to her being young, and unaware of when to keep her mouth shut.

"Yeah," he states definitively and plainly, ending the conversation. Heads to the bathroom to clear his head. Turns the shower up to just as hot as the one at his house has been ever since you left his apartment the last time.

'Cause Jungkook's been lying to himself.

There's no lock on the damn annexe. Or at least not from the outside.

The annexe has everything he needs. He's been sitting there, inside, quite comfortably with you for a little while now.

He really did think you were gonna call things off with Mingyu.

Is unaware that Mingyu got left on read four days ago after another dull, fruitless 'how was your day', 'fine thanks, and you?' conversation. As hot as he may be, he doesn't challenge you. Excite you. Anger you. Make you feel any kind of passion.

Which is funny, 'cause you find yourself reaching for a bottle of wine that you know is far too expensive for a Tuesday night glass, just to piss Jungkook off from afar and well in advance of him ever realising what you've done.

Just like you mentioned going to see Mingyu just to get a reaction out of Jungkook.

Childish as it may be, you feel threatened. People praising Jiwon in your place already made you feel insecure at work, and now she's in his hotel room in a state of near undress? Something about it just irks you.

It shouldn't.

It shouldn't, it shouldn't, it shouldn't.

But it does.

And so you spend your evening on Jungkook's couch with cheese, wine and Bam. Put Love, Rosie on, 'cause it's your favourite guilty pleasure film and you think it'll cheer you up.

Instead, you end up silently sobbing by the halfway point, Bam only snuggling into you even further. Can understand that you're upset. Comforts in the only way he knows how.

Sleep is hard to come by that evening. You're full of wine and cheese, so it should be easy. Lights out as soon as you close your eyes—but you toss and turn, and with every move, the scent of him wafts even deeper into your senses. Any further and it might just enter your bloodstream. Seep down into your heart.

By the time morning comes, you feel even more rotten than you did the night before. Have slept on it all. Know that he hasn't done anything wrong, which only makes you feel even more stupid for being so annoyed.

You've also slept on the idea he might have slept with Jiwon. It wouldn't be out of character, but it would be the first person in your department he's shagged. It's always been out of bounds. He knows this. For the same reason you wouldn't shag anyone he works closely with. It'd just be weird. Make meetings uncomfortable.

When you call on your walk that morning, you half hope he won't pick up.

But he does. He always will.

"Hey," he says a little breathlessly. A towel is whipped over his shoulder, sweat dappling his skin. There's something so devastatingly beautiful about mid-workout Jungkook. "Sorry, didn't think you'd call."

Almost as if you're looking for reasons to be annoyed, you take offence to this.

"I always call?"

"Well, yeah, but you were so fuckin' weird last night," he laughs, heading out of the gym and into an empty corridor of the hotel.

"I wasn't anything," you reply back with a scowl—and realise how terribly you're hiding your annoyance. Flick the camera over so it focuses on Bam as he trots along the path. "Just tired."

It's the same excuse he bullshitted to Jiwon. Knows you're talking bollocks.

"Even Jiwon asked what was wrong with you—"

"Oh, well I'm terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you, Jungkook," you snap, completely unjustified. It's too late, though. You've started. Have to see it through. "But if you don't mind, I'm responsible for your pet right now and I'd rather not be having this conversation when I need to be focusing on a million other things at once."

"Fine," Jungkook snaps right back. All he wants is to see Bam, but he doesn't want to be having this conversation either. "But you know what? Don't bother calling back until you've taken that stick out from up your arse."

You shouldn't be surprised when Jungkook hangs up.

But you are.

For the second time in as many days, you find yourself crying.

Oh, it's all so pathetic! And stupid! There's no need for it, you think.

Thankfully you're not too far from home—Jungkook's home, that is—so you can cut the walk a little short as long as you come home at lunch to check on Bam, too.

You don't even really understand why you're fighting with him. Wish you weren't.

When Jungkook zips open his suit bag as he's getting ready for the Expo opening ceremony, he finds himself wishing just the same.

Tucked on top of his blazer is a brand new tie; one of which he most definitely did not put there.

An incredibly muted bronze and black paisley pattern swirls over the material, and on top rests a note.

Jungkook rubs his face with a flat palm. Rakes it through his hair. Swallows back the awkward heat prickling at his eyes and the tickle in his throat. Doesn't wanna bawl.

But then he reads the note, and he just can't stop himself.

Dad!!!

You're gonna do great!!!!

Come home soon tho :(((((

Woof woof!!!!!!!

Your Bammie <333

P.S. I'm colour blind but the gremlin said this one is the same colour as me!!! Do you miss me??? I miss you!!!!!

The first time you had ever learned of Jungkook's tattoos was in a dive bar a few blocks over from work. It was just after you'd pulled off your first deal together—the one that set your working relationship in stone—and you'd both been blowing off steam.

The walls were red, and so were your cheeks, blushed from the heat of what it felt like to sit beside him in a tatty booth.

So used to sitting across from him at meeting tables, something about it changed your dynamic. Any threats of being on opposing teams were whittled down to nothing more than a life that could have been.

He had your back. You had his.

Blazer off, his sleeves were rolled up. You didn't ask him about a single one of the tattoos, like he half thought you might.

Instead, you just accepted him as he was. Didn't stroke your index finger up his arm, tracing the lines, like most girls do as an excuse to get better acquainted with him.

That night he made a promise to himself to never ruin the working relationship you have together.

You work too well to jeopardise it. He has goals. Knew, even back then, that you'd help him achieve his aspirations, like some sort of twin flame type of shit he didn't believe in.

Didn't. Past tense.

These days, when you think of Jungkook and his tattoos, you always think of the snake. It's the one you see most frequently for it's so close to his wrist. Have always understood snakes to represent change.

Jungkook is yet to shed his skin. He's still just the same as he always was, you think, as you get in the lift and head up towards your office floor.

Just 'cause he hadn't hooked up with anyone from the office in a while didn't mean that he'd changed his ways. More fool you for thinking that he might've.

And it's not like it even matters at all. Who he lays down with is none of your concern. You've never cared before. Not really.

It's just that you've been going to sleep in his sheets. Eating dinner he prepared in advance for you. Waking up to his pup excitedly doing zoomies around the room, 'cause he's ready for his walk.

When you get home, you put Bam's leash up next to your coat, which is hung on top of Jungkook's. Kick your shoes off by a pair of his. Use his shower gel when you get washed, and wistfully tuck yourself up into the armchair you helped him pick out for his bedroom. It's tucked in the corner. Is perfect for watching the world roll by.

You know you should have just called him this morning. Spent the entire walk stubbornly hoping that he would instead, but he's just as childish as you are.

You've bickered with him a hundred times over since you first met him, but never like this.

The elevator dings to a stop, pulling you from your tiresome thoughts of Jungkook. Pulling your body from its slumped leaning stature against the mirrored walls, you trudge into a place that endlessly reminds you of him.

Impossible to escape, is Jungkook. Perhaps that's it. Maybe you've just had enough of each other. Need a little time to breathe.

Everyone else who started at the company around the same time as you has already left. It's just you and Jungkook still here from the small pool of fresh graduates that had been taken under Mr Seo's wing.

But you like it here. Like your job. The salary you earn is great—far more than you would get anywhere else.

Again, you don't know this, but Jungkook's always negotiated on your behalf behind closed doors. He makes the company far more money, and does admittedly get a pretty huge bonus every year according to the amount of deals closed.

That being said, he also stomps down to Mr Seo's office in the fourth quarter when news of the next fiscal year's raises are shared. Will demand that your base salary is matched to his. Has threatened, on numerous occasions, to call for a pay disparity audit from external forces if your wage isn't boosted up, even if it means his is cut down to make up for it.

You went out on a limb trusting him in the early days. This is how he repays you.

That's just friendship, though, he thinks. You help him, he helps you.

He also knows you'd probably be annoyed if you ever found out he meddled with things like that.

The girls in the accounting office always think it's so lovely whenever they see the pay increases. Yours and Jungkook's are never quite what they should be, and they know exactly why. It's why they always ask you how he is whenever you go to drop off inventory reports and materials lists with the lead accountant.

You think they just fancy the pants off him.

Which is also true.

And it's also why a couple of them are curiously standing outside your office space, giggling like school girls as you approach it.

"Morning," you smile, then laugh a little too at their giddy excitement—but when you turn the corner and realise what they're so smitten over, you're a little lost for words.

Sitting on your desk is quite possibly the largest bouquet of flowers you've ever seen. Peonies, you think from afar. Pretty and pale pink, they're in a glass vase. Two dozen easily, if not more, blooming just for you.

"Oh," you hum, because it's hardly what you expect to walk into on a Thursday morning.

Mingyu flashes through your head, but you haven't heard a peep from him since you last let your conversation dissolve over the weekend. He has no reason to send you flowers.

But nor does anyone else.

"We tried working out the message," one of them admits. "But whoever your secret admirer is, they're hell-bent on keeping it secret!"

Shameless, you think, suppressing a well-natured laugh. They've got balls to admit that they've read the note.

Walking to your desk, you see it sitting atop of the flowers, and read it for yourself.

Anyone reading the note who knows a single non-superficial thing about the mystery sender would know who it is in a heartbeat. All it takes for you to know is to see the name of who it's addressed to.

Bammie—

She's right. It does match you. When I get home we can dress you up in my new tie.

Tell the gremlin that you deserve head scratches.

And extra treats.

And that I miss her.

Glancing over to the girls, who desperately want gossip, you simply shrug. If they've never heard Jungkook talk about Bam before, then they clearly don't know him at all. If he wanted his name on the note, he'd have put it there.

He could have gotten them sent to his apartment. He chose here. But he also chose anonymity.

And so you give him a little grace.

"Your guess is as good as mine," you bullshit with an apologetic smile that no one believes.

Lea just looks at you from across the room with a raised brow. Waits until the girls leave, then says, "That's not the kind of bouquet you send a colleague."

She already knows you're looking after Bam. That being said, she hasn't read the card. Has no idea what it says. Just knows that there's only one man you ever talk about with such warmth to be deserving of those flowers from.

"Apparently it is," you shrug, all but confirming who sent them with a coy smile.

"I hope he lets Jiwon down gently," Lea sighs, knowing just as well as you do that she's got a bit of a thing for Jungkook.

What she doesn't know is that it's the exact reason you're fighting with him.

Hell, even he doesn't know that!

So deep in your denial, neither do you.

"Why would he need to?" You downplay it all. Lea doesn't know about the awkward call Jiwon inserted herself into, or the fact you've already decided that he must have fucked her. "Like I said, apparently these are the kind of flowers sent by just a colleague."

Lea shakes her head. Has been observing you and Jungkook for years. Was waiting for a Christmas party, or one of those nightmarish summer tennis tournaments for the pair of you to finally figure it out. You're just as thick as two wooden planks when it comes to all of this, or so it would seem. A little push might be needed.

"Colleagues don't send flowers just because," she tells you with an air of authority. "And if I know anything about the stories you've told me, Jungkook doesn't send flowers full stop."

Just like that, you're thinking of those damn tattoos again. The snake, specifically.

Maybe, just maybe, he is changing.

And if you weren't confused before, then you sure as hell are now.

During the summer months, Jungkook often goes home to see Bam at lunchtime. It's not uncommon for you to go with him. In the winter, when the temperature of his apartment is less of a worry, Jungkook probably only goes home for lunch once a week or so.

Walking up to Jungkook's apartment in the middle of the day without him feels a little bit wrong. In one hand, you're holding a peony by its stem. In the other, you're clutching your phone just in case he calls.

In all honesty, you had planned on taking the entire vase back, but it was bloody heavy. You'll wait until he's back in the office.

It might just be paranoia, or the misplaced assumption that everyone is obsessed with what Jungkook does, but you swear there have been far more people passing your office today than usual. People you've seen maybe once or twice in your entire lifetime.

Lea was right. Jungkook doesn't send flowers.

Has a repeat order going monthly for his mother, but that's it. And even then, he's kind of forgotten about it.

You've debated it with him before; flowers and their presence in relationships.

He thinks a potted plant would be far more practical, but if he was really going to get someone something, it'd be herbs. Maybe a potted mint bush. Something useful that they could enjoy together.

A few weeks ago, you had told him he'd make an awful sugar daddy.

"Well, yeah!" He'd just laughed. "I save my money for myself. Me alone. If someone wants nice shit, they can get their own job."

"Oh, so you'd never treat a girlfriend?" You'd scoffed, forgetting the fact he never really has girlfriends. Just flings. "Never get her nice shit?"

"Well, that's different," he'd said. "It's not transactional."

"Everything in life is transactional, whether people like to kid themselves it is or not."

Jungkook looked affronted when you said this. You'd had differing perceptions of life for as long as he'd known you, but you'd always been a romantic. Always believed in the prevailing nature of love.

Bam had adjusted in his sleepy position. Curled up a little tighter, then stretched right out. Rested his hind paws on your thighs and tucked his nose into his chest.

"Bam disagrees," Jungkook assured you.

"You trained him using transactions," you reminded him regardless. "Rewarded him with a treat every time he did as you asked. Transactional."

"Okay, but this?" He gestured to where Bam was curled between the pair of you on his sofa. That's always been a rule of his. No sofa for Bam—he's got all the beds he could ever want! But when Jungkook is on the sofa, it's the only place he wants to be, too. "He knows he's not supposed to be on here. He knows he won't get a reward, so why is he up here? It isn't transactional. He just—"

"Is playing you for a fool," you had laughed. "He wants to be on the sofa, so he lets us pet him in return for us not shooing him off. He's the one setting the transaction up. You're the one getting the reward. He's playing you at your own game. Aren't you, baby?"

You'd cooed a little, scratching at Bam's thigh. He shook it ever so gently and readjusted, but didn't stop resting against you.

It was a curious thought; the way that nothing in life ever comes for free. Even the favours you do for Jungkook by dog-sitting are transactional. You get just as much out of those days as he does.

The conversation had mellowed into something else, 'cause Jungkook didn't want to get into a debate. Knows that you can defend your point until the cows come home—has been in enough meetings with you to know as such. Likes being on your side 'cause you always win—and with a negotiator like him to seal the deal, it's always so much sweeter.

As the calling screen of Jungkook's contact details takes over your screen, phone resting against a wine bottle on the coffee table, you wonder how transactional this is.

He gave you flowers, and now you're giving him a call.

Anyone with a rational mind would surely ask: is this not how romance works?

But when he accepts your call, and you're met with a stern face that's desperately trying not to smile, you're reminded of what he really is: your best friend.

Neither of you wants to be the first one who cracks and gives in first, even if you both know this is all so stupid.

You reach over to pick up the peony. Hold it in front of your face. The petals have bloomed so spectacularly that it almost eclipses you.

Jungkook's face scrunches up a little, his terribly hidden smile slightly distorted but ever so hard to hide.

"Will you stop hating me now?" Is all he says.

"Never hated you," you grumble, bringing the flower a little lower, but still in frame. Sitting on the floor, your back is to the sofa and Bam is behind you, right where he's not supposed to be.

If Jungkook is bothered by it, he doesn't mention it. "I missed him this morning."

The guilt that crawls into your stomach and makes itself at home is rancid. Anguish is her name, and she loves nothing more than ruining a good thing.

The frown that steals the pretty smile from your face isn't one that Jungkook enjoys seeing on you, no matter how cute it is when your eyebrows pinch together.

"I should have called," you acknowledge, knowing that it was cruel of you not to, even if you were fighting. "I'm sorry."

Jungkook just smiles. "I assumed the stick was still up your arse."

Narrowing your eyes, you're pleased that he's joking with you; that things feel normal.

"It's fine," he dismisses regardless. "Last night was the opening event so I was a little worse for wear this morning, and then Jiwon was rummaging about at fuckin' six in the morning. Took her fuckin' hours to get ready."

And there it is; confirmation that she's been sharing his bed.

Though you don't frown, there's a stupor to the muscles in your face. The brightness you were looking at him with fades—and very quickly, Jungkook becomes the one who looks unhappy, now.

"What?" He says, genuinely a little confused.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.

You just shake your head. Dismiss it. Flick the camera around and lift your phone to focus it on Bam as you give him a little scratch behind the ear.

"He's been good as gold," you begin to waffle on. The ridge between Jungkook's brows deepens. "Best boy in the doggie park, aren't you? There's a new couple who have just started walking a Yorkie. Yappy little bugger. I don't think Bam's a fan."

"No," Jungkook supposes. "He doesn't like yappy dogs—and I don't like it when you deflect. Show me your face, gremlin. What's going on?"

"Nothing!" You insist, but don't flick the camera back. Just get a little more boisterous with Bam, and while it does make Jungkook smile, he can't shake the horrible feeling that's building in his diaphragm.

Your Anguish has a cousin who goes by the name of Confusion, and she adores wrapping herself up in men who fail to communicate in a way that is healthy.

"C'mon," he softly says. Flicks his camera around. Shows you an empty hallway of the convention centre. Says, "I've left Jiwon in charge at the height of the day just so I can answer your call. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"You didn't have to answer," you grumble.

Jungkook is smarter than most. Will have clocked the time of day and knew it was lunch. Definitely assumed you must be with Bam. It must be why he picked up.

Flicking the camera back on himself, Jungkook is almost at a loss for what else he can say to get you to open up.

A little honesty is needed.

And so you pout. Mumble, "They're calling you and Jiwon a dream team in the office."

Jungkook's frown intensifies as his dewy pink lips rest ajar. You'd say he looks distressed, but that's far too intense of an emotion for such a childish qualm.

He just knows that if he heard your partnership with another colleague—especially one in his department—being referred to like that, he'd take offence. It's you and him. You're the dream team. Always have been.

Shaking his head, Jungkook doesn't hide his contempt. Scoffs. "Fuck off. Dream team? She's using your strategies at a booth you designed, and even then, she's barely doing that—you know Acorn guy? The one you said to steer clear of? She's gunning for him—"

"Oh, you're kidding me," you gasp in disbelief. You warned her that he's bad news, multiple times. "Him?!"

"She's young," Jungkook says with a little judgement. Is scared of turning thirty, but definitely doesn't understand people who are closer to twenty. "He's just some hot guy on TV, to her. Doesn't realise his business is gonna tank. She isn't thinking about it long-term."

Which is funny, 'cause Jungkook never really used to think about things long term, either.

Sure, with investments and saving his money, he's always been a little cautious. When it comes to the business, though, it's someone else's money he's playing with. He takes risks. Does dumb shit and it gets rewards.

He really is incredibly good at his job, though. It's part of the reason the women love him, you always think.

It's not.

They like him because he's kind and also so bloody hot he should be on billboards, not in boardrooms.

You like him because he's competent.

In fact, you think there's nothing hotter than a competent man who just knows how to get shit done. And when said competent man can cook like Jungkook? Cares for his dog in the way he does? Looks like he does?

Sigh.

You ignore the way he looks a lot of the time, but you've a pair of eyes and a part of your brain that recognises attractive men. It's hard to ignore all of the time.

"Anyway," he shakes his head. "Not important. She's perfectly fine if not a little misguided—but she isn't you. So, stop worrying about it."

You take a second before you reply. Flick the camera back to you.

It surprises Jungkook, how Confusion has travelled through his bloodstream. Her bony fingers toy with his heart, and he's taken aback by just how sharp her nails are.

Looking at you never used to feel like this. He's not sure why it does now.

You muster up a little courage, even if you can't bring yourself to look at him properly. Let out a deep sigh. Now or never. You run the risk of causing another fight, but if you don't come clean, it'll only dirty everything.

"I just thought we kind of had an agreement, Kook," you eventually whine with an ever-so childish pout.

The hands that have been tearing at his heart migrate through his bloodstream. Get into his brain. Get into his house. Opens doors. Begins moving the furniture.

Stay out of the annexe, his thoughts hiss at Confusion.

Still he seems perfectly calm when he asks, "Watcha mean?"

He's not making this easy for you.

In fact, you'd say he's making it difficult. It would be far easier for you if he just acknowledged what he's already done.

"Well, just..." you take a moment or so to think about how it can be phrased with any dignity—and then you think fuck it. "She's in my department, Kook. I always thought you wouldn't fuck anyone I have to directly work with. It just makes it awkwa—"

"Woah, woah woah," he interrupts. Confusion sits on his shoulder, now, with a twisted smirk on her greyed-out face. "Wouldn't fuck anyone? What the hell do you think I've been doing?!"

"Well, I mean, it's less what and more... who," you joke a little too flippantly.

You don't think he's ever looked so offended in the entire time you've known him.

"You've got to be kidding me."

If anything, you're a bit surprised by just how offended he is. Jiwon is an incredibly pretty girl. A little young for him, granted, but not abhorrently so.

"What?!" You reply, equally confused, then relay everything back to him. "She woke you up this morning getting ready? Was in your room when I called you? Fucking got on your bed right in front of my face and cosied up with you to look at Bam."

Admittedly, that last one was said with a little venom. It annoys you the most.

"She woke me up this morning from across the room," he counters. "Was in our room because we were a last-minute addition to the convention, and it was the only room left within a ten-mile radius—twin beds, may I add! If I don't even share my bed with you when I'm at home, then what the hell makes you think I'd share one with her?! Yeah, the call thing was weird. I'm not gonna lie, it was, but I answered when she was around because I didn't want either of you to get the wrong impression."

A smile wobbles on your lips, as you try to remain stoic. Either of you. You know that you apparently got the wrong end of the stick—but you're not entirely sure what he means by either of you. You wonder what impression he's trying to give her, then decide it's not important.

You clasp your hands together. Lean forward. Put on your best noble old man voice, and say, "Well, it appears that it might have just happened, regardless."

Confusion's perch on Jungkook's shoulder is knocked loose when he laughs, though those sharp nails do claw onto his back. Leave scratch marks that will take a little while to heal—what's important is that they will.

One day, this awkward misstep will be something you laugh about. Kind of like he is, now. You'll forget your tears, but you won't ever forget the strange feeling of weight lifting off your shoulders, mind eased by Jungkook.

"You're a fucking idiot," he laughs with such fondness it almost doesn't feel like an insult. "Seriously? You thought I fucked her? And was then, what? Trying to brag about it? C'mon, you little gremlin! Give me some credit."

Never before has 'gremlin' ever sounded so kind. So warm. So much like 'darling', or 'mon amour'. Secret code for unspoken words.

"I don't know," you whine. Bam shuffles a little bit on the sofa behind you, turning his face away from the noise. You reach back to scratch his head as an apology. Jungkook smiles. Your care for his baby is so innate that you don't even realise you're doing it. "Her hair was damp, and she was practically falling out of her top—"

"Oh, but what I am supposed to do?" He laughs. "I can't tell her to cover up in her own damn room, and even then I just ignore it. I didn't sleep with her. I'm not going to sleep with her. Okay?"

He's not even thought about it. Feels nothing when he looks at her. No excitement. Even if she is attractive, he doesn't think his body would work properly.

Hasn't been working as it should do for the best part of a year now.

Or maybe it would better be referred to as 'malfunctioning'.

'Cause it seems to work okay when he thinks about you.

He 'malfunctioned' earlier on that day, as a matter of fact. Was just showering. And he missed you. And was thinking about those damn pyjama shorts. How smooth your legs had been when he'd hoisted you over his shoulder. How pliant you'd been as he chucked you down into his sheets. Your sleepy eyes and the 3AM husk to your voice. Fuck.

Even thinking about it in a dingy hallway of a convention centre, with your pretty face smiling at him through his phone, is making his heart race. If he doesn't get a hold on it, he'll go into cardiac. Might just flatline.

"Look, I gotta get back, okay?" He softly says. It's not a lie, but it is more sensible than he wants to be. "Have to make sure Jiwon hasn't sold the company to the acorn guy. There's a networking event tonight, so I can't call during Bammie's walk, but I'll check in at some point."

"Alright," you nod, a little sad to see him go, but understanding of it. "Hurry up and come home. Bam misses you."

"I miss him, too," Jungkook pouts. "Show me my baby before I go."

Phone angled to fully capture Bam, you indulge Jungkook for a few moments before he really does have to go. He lingers for a second or so after you say goodbye. Can't muster up anything good to say to make you stay.

Holding the stem of the single peony you'd taken home with you, you roll it between your thumb and fingers. Watch the petals twirl.

"What should I do, hey, Bam?" You wistfully sigh, eventually getting up to pop it in a glass of water. Jungkook has no vases, for he's never had any need for flowers.

The peony isn't the only thing blooming in his kitchen these days, though. It hasn't been for a while.

Work passes slowly that afternoon. You want to get home. See Bam. Finish off the wine you opened so that Jungkook doesn't scold you for letting it turn into vinegar when he gets back. And then you wanna sleep—just so you can wake up the next morning and take Bam on his walk.

It's not like that isn't part of your agenda tonight, too. It's just that Jungkook won't be around for that one.

Instead, his evening is spent in fancy rooms with men in even fancier suits and women who take a fancy to him, too. A whisky is in his hands at all times, his pretty lips embroiled in conversation. He talks so much he barely has any time to drink.

People gravitate towards him; those who feel threatened by his charm gravitate towards Jiwon. Mistake her for a prize he's trying to keep. Don't realise his unbothered facade is anything but a facade.

It's gone midnight by the time he's kicking off his shoes with a little wobble as he gets to his hotel room.

"I'm being serious," he almost giggles, phone between his shoulder and his ear as he loosens his cufflinks. "It's a wig. I'm positive."

280 miles away, phone on your tummy, loudspeaker on as you gaze up at Jungkook's bedroom ceiling, you're laughing too.

"It can't be," you protest the current topic of conversation—Mr Acorn (as he's now affectionately known between you both) and whether or not his hair is real. Jungkook had left Jiwon to continue her poorly judged perusal of him, in favour of checking in with you instead. There was no one else at that party he wanted to talk to more than he wanted to talk to you. Laughing and joking about stupid shit, he's glad you answered. "He went swimming on Singles Inferno!"

"So?!" Jungkook snorts, tapping his phone over to loudspeaker too and tossing it down onto his sheets. A little haphazard, he's unbuttoning his shirt. Is a little tipsy, but not enough to warrant any huge issues. "Maybe he used industrial strength glue."

"Surely he'd rather people just know he was bald? Start a trend?"

"Maybe he's got a terrible head tattoo," Jungkook theorises, tossing his shirt across to a chair, before finally discarding his pants, too. Is just in his boxers now as he clambers into the sheets. "Bald eagle. An ex's name. I dunno. But I'd take chemical burns over that."

"You'd never get a girl's name tattooed on you," you laugh in response. Legs tucked up, heels to your ass, you let your knees gently sway. Bam is curled up in his own bed by the foot of Jungkook's. You're not on facetime, mainly 'cause Jungkook clicked the wrong button, but it's also nice not using poor Bam as an excuse to talk to you.

"And I'm also not balding, so we don't have to worry about that."

"Are you not?" You hum, just to wind him up. "I swear there's a patch of missing hair—"

"Shut up," he cuts you off, voice just as fond as it is stern. "I will swim all the way back to the mainland and speed run up to Seoul just to shut you up. Don't speak it into existence. I have great hair."

"Mmm," you hum. Sinking a little further into his sheet, you turn on your side. Take him off speaker. Hold your phone to your ear. Look at the empty side of his bed and wonder what it'd be like if he were here. Know better than to indulge it. "And you are just so modest, too. Absolutely no ego whatsoever."

"It's why the ladies love me," he jokes, not realising just how true it is. Jungkook takes a moment before he says anything else. Is comforted by the silence you leave for him, totally unaware it's because you're not sure how to respond. "Not that it matters."

Though his delivery is soft and airy, like feathers falling from a well established nest, it lands in your chest with a heavy thud, like a stone from a bridge. You couldn't swerve in time. It shattered your windshield; plummeted straight into your heart. 'Causes a pile up on the freeway, all your thoughts held behind a tongue that cannot speak.

"You tired?" Jungkook hums down the speaker when a response never comes. "I'm sorry, I can let you go?"

"No," you say incredibly quickly considering you've been leaving your side of the conversation empty. "No, sorry. Just can't believe you're actually behaving yourself. Who are you, and what have you done with Cassanova that normally takes a hold of you after a few drinks?"

He's right here, Jungkook laments, knowing better than to act on the way he's been feeling lately. Just says, "Maybe I'm maturing."

"I find that hard to believe," you tell him. If the tiktok psychology gurus who have taught you everything you know about modern men are anything to go by, his brain should have finished fully developing about a year ago.

And while Jungkook would tell you to get fucked and that his brain was already fully developed, he knows that if he sat down and really thought about it, maybe it'd hold some merit. Afterall, it's been about a year since those first thoughts about you started creeping into his mind house.

It's only recently that he's been flirting with that damn annexe door, but he's been aware of someone in there for a while, now.

"What?" He smiles down the phone, resting an arm on his bare abdomen, looking up at the dark ceiling of his hotel room. "Maybe I am. Maybe shagging random girls doesn't excite me anymore."

"You're lying."

"Am I?"

"Yes," you insist, but there's a smile on your face.

There's something about his denial you enjoy.

It's why you're arguing against him. You wanna hear him deny it again. Tell you he doesn't care about other girls. You don't necessarily want him to care about you beyond what he already does. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

"No," he simply replies back. "I'm not."

"So if Jiwon—"

"Why are you bringing her up again?" He's smirking, now. You can hear it in his tone. "Are you jealous?"

"Jealous?!"

"Yeah," He insists, just like you had been earlier. "You don't like the idea of her sleeping with me."

Incorrect. You don't like the idea of him sleeping with her.

"Well, no," you admit. "But because I work with her—"

"That's not it," he fights against you. Knows that you didn't go and see Mingyu when you said you would, and also now knows you said you would after you thought he'd slept with Jiwon. He might not be able to read women's minds, but he's learnt your M.O. pretty well over the years.

"You're drunk," you whisper, trying to hide behind the alcohol that both of you have in your systems. Neither of you are in any position to make sensible choices.

"Tipsy," he corrects. "And so are you. Go on. Be honest. Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Yeah, there is," he whispers, his words far braver in sentiment than they are in sound.

You swallow. Can't work out if he's just teasing you or not. "There's nothing."

The silence in the room around you is deafening. It's like all you can focus on is Jungkook, and the way you imagine his lips pouting together at the end of each sentence he speaks. Pretty and pink and—

"So you've never thought about it?" He interrupts your thoughts with a question you're unprepared for.

"What?" You reply a little dismissively, as if it's an outlandish think to consider.

But Jungkook doesn't buy it.

Has been driving himself insane.

Knows he can't be the only one—and if he is, then maybe he really is insane.

"Us," he replies as if it's water off a duck's back. Simple. Easy. "You've never wondered what it would be like?"

"Kook..."

It's like playing chicken. Both too scared to cross a line for fear of it changing the entire fabric of your lives.

But you can acknowledge something without acting on it. Confirmation means nothing; it's the choices that follow which really mean something,

"Yeah?" He husks. His sleepy eyes are pressed shut, his voice a slow drawl. "What is it, huh? You want me to admit it first?"

You almost laugh at how dumb this whole conversation is. You're friends. Have been for years. Colleagues. Just... Well, just you and Jungkook. He's never thought about you like that. You're certain of it.

Yet still, you ask, "Well, have you?"

He doesn't reply immediately. You half think he's drifted off to sleep, proof that he'd had too much to drink to be having a conversation like this.

But then you hear his breathy little laugh through the speaker. You know he must be nibbling down on his bottom lip as he smirks. The sound is so familiar you can picture it. You wish he was here. Want to see it. Feel it.

Fuck, you curse yourself out. This is not good.

And Jungkook's only gonna make it a whole lot worse.

"Yeah," he quietly admits, keys in one hand and padlock in the other as he stares at the annexe door in his mind. Wide open, there's no going back now. Only forward. "I think about it all the time."

Bam nuzzles the side of his head against your tummy as he adjusts into a slightly more comfortable position on Jungkook's bed. The sheets are a mess from all your tossing and turning, your body plonked right in the middle of his mattress. There's no his side or your side anymore. You've made it yours, and Bam has joined in.

He shouldn't be on the bed. You know this, he knows this. You're both disobeying Jungkook. Are in this perfectly innocent sin together, and will face the wrath of Jungkook as a unit.

There's never really much wrath that comes from Jungkook. He's the type to smirk and laugh in the face of the people who've wronged him. Believes in karma. Fate. He draws the lines at horoscopes, though. Thinks they're bollocks. Smiles, still, when you blame shitty things on Mercury.

The only time you've ever seen him angry—nostrils flaring, jaw tense, agitated beyond compare—was when some guy wouldn't stop hitting on you in a bar. You'd told him no a dozen times over and he just wouldn't listen.

It still pisses you off that he listened to Jungkook without hesitation, but you also know it looked like Jungkook was gonna break his nose. You're far less intimidating when you're annoyed. Jungkook laughs at you whenever you get frustrated. Says you're cute—or at least as cute as a Gremlin can be.

You've got a similar look on your face now, all perplexed and bereft. If he were here, he'd be teasing you, trying to make you crack a smile.

Annoyingly, you know he'd be able to.

You're staring up at his ceiling, early morning light seeping in through the gaps in the curtains. The world you wish to ignore today rudely intrudes on you regardless.

It's his karma, you think.

You disobey Jungkook, the world disobeys you.

With one hand resting on Bam, the other is tightly clutching your phone. For the past five minutes, you've been locking and unlocking it like a wind-up toy drummer.

To call, or not to call, or whatever Shakespeare said.

The faint hum of a wine-induced hangover buzzes between your ears, but it isn't so bad. Probably because you didn't really have that much to drink.

If anyone asks, you'll say you had a bottle.

And by anyone, you mean Jungkook.

If Jungkook asks, you'll laugh— We had a call? Are you sure? —and he'll laugh too— Yeah, we were both pretty drunk —and you'll both pretend like he didn't say the words that he did.

Pulling the pillow he usually sleeps on across to your face, you press it down. Scream into the padding. It's not loud enough to alarm Bam, but it is enough to make him cock his head.

It wouldn't have been so bad if it had only been Jungkook's lips that were loose last night.

The issue is that yours were, too.

You wish you didn't remember all the words you'd said. The way you'd told him to shut up.

The way he'd hummed, "Oh, come on. You know you think about it, too."

The way you'd said, "I do no such thing."

He had laughed. Said you were a liar.

You'd protested. Said it didn't matter anyways, 'cause you both know it'd never work.

"So you have thought about it," he'd teased.

"Briefly."

"How briefly?"

"Like a matter of minutes—"

"Okay, rude," he'd pouted through the receiver. "I last way longer than a couple of minutes."

"You're disgusting," you'd laughed at the way he'd made it all about sex.

For all he knew, you could have been talking about a relationship—but you're right. You both know it'd never work, so of course this is about sex.

"You the one who's thought about it, though," he'd flirted through the phone. Biting down on his bottom lip, the darkness of his hotel room had slipped him into a fatal state of hedonism.

There was a beat of his heart. One. Two. Still no response from you.

He knew you were thinking about it. Thinking about him. Decided to push his luck. Had almost whispered, his fingertips trailing down his torso, as he chanced, "Do you ever think about me when you touch yourself?"

Silence continued to linger for longer than it should have, until you finally just whispered, "Kook."

"Yeah?" He'd smirked.

"You can't ask things like that."

But he can, and he did, and your lack of an answer was an answer in and of itself.

He wasn't even really after the truth. He just wanted to get under your skin; burrow himself down into the deepest, darkest, most depraved corner of your brain. Revenge, he thinks, for that damn annexe you've assigned squatters rights to.

You set up home in him? Fine . He'll do it right back.

"So this is what I am, huh?" You'd replied, with a little faux chip on your shoulder, trying to deflect from yourself. "Just another office girl for you to fantasize about?"

There's always been a challenge to you that Jungkook has liked. You're sparring partners. Will bicker and argue and end up laughing over it all. It makes for excellent brainstorming meetings, 'cause you're always trying to win. You bring out the best in each other, even if it is in a bid to do the opposite.

Jungkook had sighed. Weighed up his options. Rested his hands over his boxers, only to find himself far too entertained by the conversation. It wasn't a surprise, nor was it unwelcome.

The frequency of his thoughts about you had been doubling, tripling, quadrupling ever since Chuseok.

His bed has become a pit of sin in recent weeks; nobody but him in the shrouded decay of a mind-house he's been neglecting in favour of the annexe shared with you.

He already knows just how bad it's gonna be for him when he returns home, and the pillows are dented by your crown, the lingering scent of your perfume wrapping around him just like he knows his hand will be around his cock. Tight. Strong. Firm. It's your name he'll whine, just like it was when he was in the shower earlier that morning.

God, it's gotten so bad.

He needs to stop before he ruins everything.

It's not like sex is an uncommon topic of conversation between you both. Casual vulgarity had been a tool used to bond with; a taboo way to tease one another. It's always been casual. Uncalculated.

It's different, now.

In the darkness of midnight, the stakes were raised almost as high as your heart rate.

"You think so poorly of me," he'd whined, a teasing smile on his lips. It wasn't rare to hear Jungkook address you so playfully. In fact, it was a common occurrence—yet it felt strange, this time. "You know you're not just another office girl."

"Do I?"

"You should."

"I don't," you'd shrugged into his sheets. "Tell me, how am I different?"

The distance between you made a flirt like this safe. Immediate consequences were null and void, and the alcohol in your system didn't seem to care for it either.

"I can't tell you."

"Sure you can."

"You don't wanna hear it," he'd promised.

"Try me," you'd challenged.

And then Jungkook admitted something he knew far better than to confess, but couldn't seem to help himself. He just wanted you to know that you were special. That you were different.

That you are different. Are special.

"None of the office girls have ever made me cum in my own bed."

It came out far less sweet than his brain had told him it would, but it was still a compliment, he thought.

"Jungkook!"

"What?!"

The way you both kind of shrieked at each other only amplified the shock of the confession, but also did well to hide the way it excited you, too. Got you hot beneath his sheets. Aroused.

"Don't say things like that," you'd scolded him with a laugh, playing it off as a joke. "I'll report you to HR."

"You'd do no such thing," he'd smirked down the line. Matched your energy. Played it off as an incredibly obscene, vulgar joke. Will turn his nose up if you ever ask him if he was telling the truth. "And anyways, the HR girls love me. You'd be fighting a losing battle."

"You're awful," you'd told him with such a tenderness that suggested you really didn't think that at all.

And so he smiled. Decided to cut his losses. Agreed. "Yeah. That's me."

The conversation dissolved into casual chatter until you both made excuses about being tired, or needing to sleep off the alcohol.

Yet both of you would spend the next hour awake, staring at your respective ceilings. Occasionally, you'd look to the space reserved for him in his bed. He'd do just the same. Would look at Jiwon's empty bed and lament the fact that it wasn't you on the trip with him.

He never should have asked you to watch over Bam—but there really isn't anyone else he'd rather have in his apartment.

Then he's thinking about you all over again, in his home, hair claw-clipped like it so often is, and how cute those little pyjama shorts of yours would look peeking out from the hemline of one of his shirts. He wonders what you're wearing; if it's your bare skin against his sheets. Wonders if he sleeps naked after he gets home, if it'd feel like your arms are wrapped around him; if the scent of your perfume would sink into his skin.

It doesn't take long for the thoughts to become lewd. He thinks of your lips, and how they'd part with a gasp if he were to stroke your skin with his fingertips. Thinks of your waist, and what it would feel like to hold. Thinks of your body in a way that really ought to get him fired.

How his lips could drag across your skin; the wet pink of his tongue learning where you liked to be touched. How he'd guide your hands. The words of approval he'd use— Yeah, like that. Oh, fuck. Yeah, just like that, baby. You're so good at that aren't you, huh? You know how many times I've imagined this? You're so much better. G'na make me cum, babe. Keep going. You want my cum, yeah? Yeah, you do. Oh, fuck—

"No," he sharply scolds himself, tearing his thoughts from you and his hand from his thick, impatient cock. "Fucks sake, man. Get a grip."

Wanting you like this is selfish, he thinks. Selfish and stupid and— God —so fuckin' dumb.

He also thinks it's your fault. You're an interior designer, after all. Have made that stupid annexe feel more like a home than the rest of his head ever has. Added candles and cushions. Hung pictures on the wall; turned off the main light in favour of warm lamps that just make him wanna curl up and fall asleep with you on the sofa.

It's so different, this little annexe in his brain, to the apartment that he actually lives in.

If he were to assess it thoroughly, he'd realise that the annexe looks just like your apartment.

But he hates your place. Has never been shy about telling you so. Hates all your nicknacks. Hates the clothing rails you use instead of a proper wardrobe, and the way your beside table is actually just a stack of books you're yet to read. Hates how there's always a cosy blanket within touching distance, and how it always smells like black cherry candles. Hates how firm your mattress is, even if he's only ever slept on it once, fully clothed after you'd both had way too much to drink after a tight work deadline.

He also hated how he didn't wake up with an aching back like he usually does. Hated how sleeping in his own damn bed began to feel wrong, and how nowadays it only feels right during those first few days after he returns from trips; when it still smells like you and the rings you take off your fingers in the night are still tucked beneath his pillows.

Kind of like they are now, as you finally decide to stop being a miserable cow and just get up. You're normally the one who calls him, and it's typically always when you're walking Bam. Last night had been an anomaly. There's no reason for him to call you, now.

It's when you're showering that your phone lights up. Only briefly. Messages, not calls.

JK: can't call this morning, gotta head to the exhibition hall early

JK: give my baby a head scratch from me

JK: send me pics!!

JK: of bam

JK: none of you

While the vomit emoji he adds onto the end of the final message is a little uncalled for, it's actually kind of a relief that he doesn't want to call. Having to face him right now, when you're in such a sorry state of confusion, would have only made the situation far worse for you.

At least that's what you tell yourself.

Your face when you walk into the office, and the state of despair Lea seems to find you in, would suggest otherwise.

By half past ten, you've managed to wrangle Jungkook into conversation eight times.

It's not until you mention him in relation to Jiwon that Lea seems to notice.

"Okay, so?" She laughs. "Everyone knows you and Jungkook are like a package deal. She isn't taking your spot—plus, you're her senior . If she tried to undercut you, do you think anyone would want to work with her?"

It's a good point, but you don't really care to listen to reason right now.

"But it's not undercutting," you pout. "You saw everyone in the group chat. Dream team. "

The way your voice heightens in pitch and nose turns up as you utter the phrase is nothing short of hilarious, and Lea makes sure to let you know.

"You're being a big old baby about this," she laughs again. "Jungkook's gonna come back, relay all of the deals he's set up, and then he's gonna whisk you up to his office to spend the next two weeks drawing up plans. I doubt I'll even see you!"

Admittedly, in the busy periods, you'll work at his desk. In the big chair. The special one he got after his first bonus. The one on his side of the desk. He'll work on the opposite side—the client side—with his laptop.

It's caused a fair amount of confusion before, whenever people have come to his office. Your nonchalance about it all makes it seem totally normal. Most people don't question it anymore—and if they do, you just say the programme you have to use runs better on his computer than it does on a laptop.

Which isn't a lie.

But you could always just work at your own desk.

The issues is that Jungkook likes to keep you close when he's working. Makes it easier for the random questions he blurts out that you're always ready to answer. Annoys him to no end when you're not there and he has to go off and find you.

By the time he finds you, the question is always half gone or you start blathering on about something completely irrelevant and he forgets it anyway. It makes him antsy not having you close.

Neither of you seem to realise it's not normal.

"Look," Lea sighs, minimising her tab so that she can give you her full attention. "You're the one who suggested Jiwon should go. It's just work! You're acting like a jealous girlfriend—"

"No, I'm not!" You gasp. "Don't be absurd!"

"Well, whose apartment did you wake up in?"

"That's hardly—"

"Whose?"

"I mean— Well— His, but —"

"Who was the first person you spoke to this morning?"

"Okay, that's not fair. I'm looking after his—"

"Who was the last person you spoke to last night?"

You pause. Narrow your eyes.

Lea just smiles.

"At least tell me you're in the spare room and not his bed," she jokes—but when she notices the look on your face, her smile drops. "Oh, you're kidding me! You know what you're like when it comes to domestication ! You're bloody nesting , aren't you?!"

"Oh c'mon," you scoff. "I'm not an animal!"

"Uh, yeah," she says, dumbfounded. "You are. That's the issue with humans. Too many bloody primal desires—"

"I do not have a primal desire for Jungkook!"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you've never thought about it."

"I haven't!" You assert, eyes locked on hers. It's almost believable. Or at least it is until your lips begin to twitch. The look of shock on her face is borderline offensive. "Oh my God, shut up!"

Lea's face scrunches up in revulsion. Shoulders to her ears, she whispers, "He's a whore !"

"Okay, that's not nice."

"But it's true!"

Sighing, you slump into your chair. Push your pout up to your nose, and then sigh even deeper than before.

Looking across at Lea with such perplexity anyone would think she's just asked you to design interiors for a rocket ship, you decide you absolutely cannot let this confusion get the better of you.

"It's fine," you assure her. "He's coming home tomorrow evening. Once I'm out of his house, I'll be way more rationable about things."

"You sure?"

No.

"I'm sure."

As Jungkook places his rucksack down beside a bar stool in an airport lounge, he can't help but feel like he's doing something wrong.

It's dark outside, and the dim lights of the bar give way to a seedy intimacy that he's always loved about places like this—how fleeting they are. The casual embrace of a stranger's stare can linger for hours afterwards, consuming his thoughts for an entire flight.

Yet the only people he's even looked in the eyes of tonight have been the airport staff checking him through. Even as he asks for a whisky, he barely registers the woman behind the bar.

Placing his phone down, he also discards the lanyard that's been around his neck. He forgot to take it off before heading to their airport, and just popped it back on after going through the scanners.

It's not like he needs it now. The conference centre is miles away.

He's still in his business suit. Left quickly. Just confirmed with Jiwon that she didn't mind him catching an earlier flight and in all honesty, it suited her better. Jungkook had been so annoying about Acorn guy the entire time. Kept telling her it was a waste of energy, and no business would come from her pursuit of him. She wanted the chance to prove him wrong; to achieve something by herself.

"Are you Leaving early, too?" An American accent drawls from beside him, immediately grabbing Jungkook's attention.

A burly man with greying hair takes a perch on the stool beside Jungkook. Nodding towards the lanyard, he holds up his own. Mitch Ellis his tag reads, and instantly Jungkook is reminded of the folder you had handed to him before his departure.

"Did a little research on an American company that's gonna be at the Expo. Their head marketer has shares in a bunch of baseball-related companies. Get pally with him."

The opportunity hadn't arisen. Jungkook barely even had time to breathe, let alone seek out some elusive American businessman—yet here he is, in the flesh, approaching Jungkook.

Sucking a little air between his teeth, Jungkook nods. Laughs. Says, "Got a family to get back to."

What. The. Fuck.

He doesn't know why on earth he said that, he just knows he can't take it back. A family. For Christ's sake! It's not just the abandoned house in his brain that's rotting—it's the whole damn thing. Stupid .

Pursing his lips in approval, Mitch nods. Lends an expression that Jungkook can only assume means he respects the answer.

"Family man," he says. "Don't see many of them in the industry these days."

Jungkook shrugs. Continues on with his bullshit. "I love my job, but home's where the heart is." Or at least, it's where his dog is. Of course, he loves Bam more than he cares to articulate—but a man and his dog surely don't constitute to a 'family'. "You off early, too?"

"Wife and kids tagged along for the trip," he nods, then quickly asks the barmaid for a whisky, too. "Promised I'd take them to Lotte World tomorrow."

Jungkook grimaces. "Ooft, on a Saturday?"

"The crowds that bad, huh?"

Gritting his teeth, Jungkook tips his head from side to side, then says, "Get magic passes for the family. It's worth the extra price. Trust me."

He'd never dream of going to Lotte World on a Saturday.

In fact, he doesn't dream of it full stop. Grew up going to the Busan franchise, and would opt for it any day of the week. Everland would be his second choice if couldn't be bothered for the drive. But never the Jamsil Lotte World. It's always rammed .

"I swear, kids—" Mitch shakes his head "—All they do is bleed you dry."

Jungkook smiles. "I'm yet to reach that stage, but I can imagine."

Mitch looks appropriately confused. Did Jungkook not just make up a bullshit imaginary family? Surely he hasn't faltered already?

Jungkook clarifies, "Going home to my girl and my dog. No kids—or at least if I've acquired one over the last couple of days, it'll be a surprise."

He doesn't know why he said that.

My girl.

Oh, God. He's going insane. He must be. This is ridiculous.

Those stupid dreams of his had already started migrating into daydreams. Now, they're being spoken into reality. This is terrible. Really, truly, awful.

Mitch has an easy ten, maybe twenty years on Jungkook.

His hair is greying, and there are lines embedded into his skin that tell stories of the life he's lived.

While it's his career Jungkook would typically be envious of, he finds himself jealous of Mitch's personal life. Wife. Kids. God, he hates the conformity of it all, but there's an ache in his chest when he thinks about all that he doesn't have.

And it only worsens when he thinks of you and Bam.

"Ah, young love," Mitch nods, again seemingly in approval of Jungkook and his 'choices'—which is bizarre, because Jungkook wants to punch himself in the face. "Make the most of it. You'll be longing for the good old days once the kids come."

It's too late for Jungkook to correct himself. Too late to admit to the truth. To say 'lol, jk, im single, just fancy the pants off my coworker.'

The thought of it all makes him want to hurl. Fancy.

He's never admitted his crush before, not even to himself. Oh, this is all so awful.

And so Jungkook panics. Says, "Hopefully we've got a couple years before then. We're both at the same company, so we're trying to figure it all out before doing anything we can't take back."

What is wrong with you?!

"Oh?" Mitch chirps, encouraging Jungkook to continue.

"Were interns at the same time," Jungkook begins to overexplain, as if it makes it any better. He's speaking a crush into existence that he isn't even sure exists, and declaring it as love of some sorts? Oh, this is really barbaric. He might throw up. Maybe if he pretends to faint, he can get out of this situation. He thinks it would be less mortifying. Yet, still, he continues! "Have gone up through the ranks together, but are different departments."

Why is he still talking about you?!

Oh God, his head is gonna explode. It's like you're building an extension on the annexe. He never gave you planning permission, and yet there you are, concrete trowel in one hand, a brick in the other. You're so pretty, he thinks.

Get a grip!

"HR nightmare," Mitch laughs, then leans a little closer. "Truth be told, it's how me and the missus met—I worked for her Daddy's company. Thought I'd be fired on the spot when we told him."

"But I'm guessing...?"

Mitch nods. "I'm now their longest-serving employee and am set to take over in the next five years," he laughs. Thankfully, it all worked out. Hopefully, the same'll be said for you and your missus."

Jungkook's lips curve into a tight-lipped smile. Decides he has to change topic, or otherwise he might just self-implode. "Yeah. Fingers crossed—anyway, I don't think we had a chance to speak at the conference, did we? What's your company?"

As if Jungkook has earned a gold seal of approval, Mitch nods his head over towards a couple of chairs that overlook the runways. Picks up his whisky. Begins to walk away. Says, "I was about to ask you the exact same thing. What did you say your name was again? Let's talk."

"Jeon Jungkook," he grins, picking up his whisky, finally forcing you out of his brain. "Yeah. Let's chat."

"Bammie," you whine into Jungkook's pillows when the sound of his paws excitedly clattering across the floorboards wakes you. You can't have been asleep for very long. A couple hours, tops. "It's not time for walkies yet."

Burrowing yourself deeper into Jungkook's sheets, you try and drown out the noise–but it's fruitless. Not only is Bam too cute to ignore, you worry that there's something wrong.

Sitting up, eyes all beary, the dark nothingness around you clues you in on the fact it's definitely the middle of the night. Pushing the duvet off your body, you swing your legs over the side of the bed as your phone begins to vibrate. Jungkook's face takes over your screen, and a frown takes over yours.

Part of you wants to ignore it. Wonder if maybe you've already slept through it ringing out, and that's what woke Bam up.

At this time of the evening, Jungkook should be at the afterparty. It's unofficial, and not endorsed by the convention, which only means one thing: people are getting legless.

He'd sent you a message earlier on in the day saying that Jiwon was still trying her absolute hardest to bag the Acorn man, after an unsuccessful attempt the night before. You wonder if he's wing-manning her.

Bitterly, you wonder if she's cut her losses. Turned her attention to Jungkook, instead.

He's probably shitfaced by now.

Part of you worries he'll want to continue the conversation from the night before. You're too sober to even consider flirting.

Sliding across to answer, you hold the phone to your ear and you begin to walk in the direction of wherever Bam may be.

"Yeah?" You croak down the phone, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

"You sound chirpy," he teases.

Bizarrely, you think he sounds sober. "Fuck off."

"Charming. Undo the bolt on the door," Jungkook demands down the line, but there's almost an echo, as if he's just in the other room or something like that.

Your feet softly pad into the living room, the darkness not much of a hindrance. You know his apartment like the back of your hand; the veins, the freckles, the grooves dappled in your skin below your knuckles. All it takes is a couple of steps for you to reach the light switch, and absolutely zero thought for you to flick it on.

"Hm?" You mumble a confused sound as light bursts into the room. Your eyes squeeze together, a groan catching in your throat. Blinking once, twice, you adjust quickly. Spot Bam by the entryway, looking up at the door expectantly. One of his paws taps at the steel, a soft whine trembling on his lips. Turning your attention back to Jungkook, you say, "What?"

"'I'm home, gremlin," Jungkook softly smiles down the phone. "Let me in."

"But it-" You begin to protest, knowing that his flight isn't until tomorrow.

Jungkook doesn't care to explain himself. Is just as tired as you sound.

"Let me in."

You don't need to be told twice.

He's home.

It shouldn't make you feel the way that it does, all warm and content.

But it does, and for a moment, you let yourself indulge in the sensation of welcoming Jungkook right back to where he belongs.

Hanging up, you place your phone on the kitchen counter, reaching out to scratch Bam's head when you get to the door.

"Is it daddy, huh?" You ask him as he continues to paw at the door. There's a small metallic click as you unthread the bolt, which is quickly replaced by a robotic beep as you press the easy-release button for the latch.

Before you can even properly open the door, the handle is being pressed down from the outside. The sound of Jungkook's hushed voice echoes into the hallway instantly as he coos over Bam just to wind him up a little before he can see him.

"Who is it, Bammie?" He asks through the door, and you already know exactly what he looks like—smile so large it takes over his entire face.

You help to push the door open, and find that there's sunshine in the middle of the night in Jungkook's hallway.

"You're home," you sleepily smile as you watch Jungkook crouch, arms wide and all-encompassing as he greets Bam in the most boisterous of ways. He's not making any sense. Isn't saying any words. Just lets noises rumble from his throat, of which Bam somehow seems to understand.

In a way, you understand it too. The mental translation is a bit patchy, but you know it's something along the lines of, I've missed you so much Bammie, Daddy's home now, let's never spend time apart ever again.

Glancing up to you, that daylight smile hanging off his lips, Jungkook's got a glisten in his tired eyes.

Maybe you haven't adjusted to the light as well as you think you have, but there's something different about Jungkook. Something that's making your weary heart work overtime. It's all a bit strange. All a bit lovely. All a bit terrifying.

"Yeah," he tenderly agrees, hands scratching behind Bam's floppy ears as his eyes fondly meet yours. How could he ever stay away? "Home."

part three to be uploaded tomorrow <3

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #officeworker!jungkook #fuckboy!jungkook #f2l #jungkook fluff

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riordanness · 3 months ago

Text

burning it down — [p-jackson]

wordcount: 1.1K

warnings: vague mentions of sex

requested: yes!!

It had been a crazy, impulsive thing. Getting tangled up with Percy Jackson, of all people. Letting myself fall into his god-like charms, his mischievous grin that seemed to make all girls swoon.

I told myself I wouldn’t ever let him get to me like that.

And yet. Here I was, in bed with Percy Jackson, son of the sea god. His fingers are knotted in my messy hair, his mouth on mine. Our clothes are discarded somewhere on my bedroom floor. A messy, wild, tangled together night, followed by another, and another, until my life is a blur of him.

“No one has to know what we do,” were his whispered promises in my ears, the quiet assurance that this was a secret. A well kept one, too.

But, all good things come to an end. Or rather, bad things that you pretend are good to fool yourself into believing it’s alright.

He never liked me. He never loved me. He never pretended that he did. But my heart didn’t want to listen to reason. I realised it one night, as Percy’s mouth made its usual trail down my collarbone, his strong fingers pressing marks into my sides, my entire body warm for him.

I was in love with Percy Jackson.

“Percy.” I knock on the open door frame of the Poseidon cabin.

Percy, a mess of black curls and hoodie, sits up and stares at me, slightly confused. We barely speak during daylight hours. “Hey.”

I chew the inside of my cheek, my foot tapping on the floor behind me. “Can we talk?”

He puts down his blue plastic water bottle. “Ye-yeah. Of course?”

I shut his door behind me, quickly checking that no one is watching first. Then I approach his bunk, trying not to think of what usually happens in it.

“We have to stop this,” I say slowly, my voice dragging.

Percy’s sea green eyes don’t reveal anything. “Why is that?” he asks carefully, his finger tracing a slow circle on his bedsheets. A movement I know all too well.

I force my gaze away from his hands and back to his eyes. “I’m done with this… whatever it is. Okay? So, yeah.” I spin on the heel of my shoe, intending to just walk away and pretend Percy Jackson never happened to me, but his voice stops me in my tracks.

“Wait.”

His voice, oh, how familiar and pretty a sound it is. Part of me aches at the thought that I won’t be hearing it nearly as much anymore.

I turn back. “Yes?”

I half expect him to say something more, something important. But all I can see in his face is an easy smirk. “Don’t forget about me,” he jokes, his sea green eyes glittering with mirth and teasing.

I purse my lips, part of me wishing he would say something more, something to make me stay. Because I would, if he wanted me to. I think that I would do anything he wanted me to do.

I study him, imprinting his appearance in my memory. He’s tall, and gods, handsome as hell, with his sea green eyes and messy dark hair that curls at the edges. His tan skin with the crinkles in the corners of his face. His troublemaker smile that takes girls’ breaths away.

I know that I am lucky for the time I’ve been in his life. Of course, I want more, but not everyone gets close to Percy Jackson like this. He’s the kind of guy every single girl falls for, but most of us get ignored. And, as I know, when he does pick you, he drops you again soon after.

Bad, but doing it very well.

“See you, babe. You were fun.”

The simple, dismissive words make something inside of me snap a little. Now I’m mad, angry that this is all I ever was to him. A plaything to last until he got bored, and if it ended, he wouldn’t care at all.

I scowl, my fists clenching a little. “That’s all?” I snap.

Percy’s face crumples in confusion, the first real emotion I’ve ever seen in his gorgeous eyes. “What do you mean? This wasn’t serious, you know that. We agreed.”

“Yeah. I know that,” I say. “But that’s really all it meant to you? You seriously didn’t… ever…” I trail off, not really knowing what I’m trying to say exactly. I’m just angry and hurt, and… in love.

“I broke the rules,” I admit. “I fell for you. That’s why I’m leaving. Because I know we weren’t supposed to do that.” I hesitate, draw a long breath. “I guess I’m just here to see if you’re going to stop me. If you… have a reason to.”

Percy’s expression is back to its usual unreadable form. His eyes study me for far too long.

“No,” he says finally. “I don’t.”

That’s all I need to hear. I nod, a shaky smile on my face. “Okay. Then this is goodbye, I suppose.”

I then away again, glancing down at my red dress, wiping my palms on the skirts. At the door, I glance over my shoulder. “Just… say you’ll remember me, at least? You can’t pretend we weren’t… something.”

“We were,” he whispers. “Trust me, I don’t think I could forget you. Your red lips, rosy cheeks, the way you sound when…” He doesn’t finish, but I know what he’s implying.

I flush ever so slightly. “Good,” I say. “Think of me, even if it’s just in your wildest dreams of what could have been.”

I shut his cabin door behind me, and it’s not until I reach my own that the tears come. Nothing lasts forever. I knew that. I always knew that. And yet I still let myself down. I let myself fall for the one person out of reach.

In hindsight, I think I would have done it differently. Not gone into something like that with Percy Jackson, the irresistible son of Poseidon. I don’t think I would have been able to resist him, though, even with the gift of hindsight.

He really was a magical boy.

Just too confined to be open, too gorgeous to be kind, too bad to be good.

We were truly something special. Like a firework. Hot, blazing, but dangerous too. Get too close, and you’re on fire. I got too close, and then everything came burning down.

The memories will always be there, though. Memories of scattered shirts and messed up bed sheets, damp curls and whimpered names.

In my wildest dreams, he will stay. Locked in the secret parts of me that not many people will see. Safe, in my vault of dreams and memories.

#percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #perseus jackson #book percy #book percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson x reader fanfic #perseus jackson fanfic #perseus jackson x reader #wildest dreams #taylor swift

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bbsantc · 1 year ago

Text

my favorite bts fics so far (maknae!line + ot7)

hello lovely readers, i hope all of you are doing great. i really want to share the amazing work and talent that many authors have on this app. as a literature fan and hopeless romantic myself, i made sure to pick out all the fics that i think are beautiful and amazing :) this post includes the maknae line + ot7 fics. i also made a hyung line fic rec post if you want to check it out here heheh :p

disclaimers!!!!:

some of these fics contain nsfw content (minors dni), or some heavy themes

this is a pretty long post lmao

all pictures are from pinterest!

once again this is the key for the fics :)

fluff- ♾️

angst- Ω

smut- ☻

crack/humor- ☼

i would sell my liver to read this again for the first time- ¶

Park Jimin

series:

The Promised Iris- @akinnie75 ♾️Ω

''Pair: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Slight Angst, Slow Burn, Fantasy, Soulmate AU

Word Count: 20k

Summary: During one rainy summer day at the park, a stranger name Jimin suddenly confesses that he’s in love with you. At first, you thought that Jimin was a stalker, but it turns out that there’s something he’s hiding from you.''

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oneshots:

balletteacher!jimin x ballerina!y/n - @jungshookz ♾️☼ (there are more drabbles for this oneshot lolz)

''pairing: park jimin x reader

genre: balletteacher!jimin x ballerina!y/n au, fluff!!!! the fluffiest fluff!!! idk jimin just really cares about y/n okAY

wordcount: 2.5k''

him after all - @mercurygguk ♾️Ω☻

''➵ summary; a guy you’ve never met before scoops in and saves you from a very embarrassing situation and you can’t help but notice how cute he is.

pairing; jimin x f. reader final word count; 17,176 (sorry y’all) rating; 18+ content; strangers to lovers au, fluff/angst/smut, infidelity, multiple appearances from jjk, oc’s boyfriend being nasty and stupid af''

lover to lean on - @sketchguk ♾️Ω☻

''pairing: neighbor!jimin x florist!reader

➳ genre: neighbor AU, flower shop AU, smut, fluff, angst

➳ wc: 20k

➳ synopsis: for months, you can hear your no face neighbor and his ‘girlfriend’ singing and dancing and laughing and falling in love. above all, you can hear their bed banging against your shared wall, and they won’t ever let you sleep. you’d much rather stay up at night worrying about your own problems, like the weight of an unrequited crush, so of course you’re bitterly single. but one day, the apartment is radio silent. and one day slowly turns into one week and then into an immeasurable amount of time since you’ve heard his laugh. so on valentine’s day, when you’re missing it the most, you beg your neighbor to open up to you with cookies in one hand and two broken hearts in the other''

beneath the water - @jungshookz ♾️Ω ☻ ☼¶

''→ pairing: park jimin x reader

→ genre: mermaid!au/fantasy!au, an extra large order of fluff, comedy!!, jungkook being a brat as per usual, a touch of angst, and of course a sprinkling of nsfw

→ wordcount: 20.5k words holy moly''

into the wilderness - @gukyi ♾️Ω ☼

''summary: alright, so last summer’s camp was… disastrous. from the murky green showers to the wasps nests, it was all-around a bad time. but none of those things could be quite as catastrophic as the end-of-camp counselor campfire, when you told park jimin that you were in love with him. and if telling him was terrible, then seeing him again this summer, one year after your fruitless confession, just might be the death of you.

{camp counselor!au, unrequited love!au, friends to lovers!au}

pairing: park jimin x female reader genre: angst, fluff, comedy word count: 27k''

Kim Taehyung

series:

charade- @ughcore ♾️Ω☻

'' “Why would you help me? What are you gonna get out of this?”

Taehyung looks you up and down, the humour twinkling in his eyes like the fairy lights he helped you hang above the TV. He tucks his hands into his armpits, assessing you for a few more moments that leave your skin hot and itchy.

“It’ll be nice to see you out of those fuzzy slippers for once,”

The double entendre lacing his words is nothing new. The tingles in your stomach, however? Yeah, those are brand new.”

kth / fake dating + roommate au + fuckboy!taehyung

ongoing (35k) ''

maybe i do- @chateautae ♾️Ω☻

''➵ summary : maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳ part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre : arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ warnings : swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety, mentions of confrontative violence (with other characters, not each other), lots of feels concerning forced marriage, a bad ex (reader’s), mentions of bad sexual experiences with ex (consensual, just bad sex), explicit sexual content, oral (m. and f. receiving), unprotected sex, penetrative sex (chapters have their own warnings!)''

A Story that we paint - @thedefinitionofbts ♾️Ω

''PAIRINGS: Jeon Jungkook x Reader | Kim Taehyung x Reader

GENRE: College Au, Future, Scifi, Slight Fluff and Angst

WORDS: 9K (ch.1)

DESCRIPTION: Butterfly Dream: In which the lines between virtual and reality are blurred.''

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oneshots:

the universe of us. - @taesthetes ♾️Ω ¶

'' “I love you.” — “I know.”

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader | kim taehyung x reader genre: slight comedy, angst, fluff type: dream / fantasy / slice of life au word count: 21,112 words warnings: none''

you’re so concerned about the ending that you don’t even know the plot- @joonsgalaxy ♾️☼

''° yoongi x reader x taehyung

° 1.9 k words ° fluff/humor

🌟 you bring your broken laptop to Tae—the IT specialist—who you have a crush on. you drag your bff Yoongi along with you, who—you’re certain—has a crush on Tae too. what a mess, right? well, the thing is, you never even considered the possibility of your assumptions being totally wrong.''

stuck with you || [roommate!taehyung] - @jungshookz ♾️☼☻

''❥ pairing: kim taehyung x reader

❥ genre: university!au, enemies-to-lovers, fratboy!tae??, comedy that’ll either make you chuckle out loud or roll your eyes and snoRT or maybe u won’t laugh that’s cool too, domestic fluff because i want to go grocery shopping with tae toO (but also fluff in general!!), smutty smut so make sure to read this with your phone’s brightness lowered all the dang way, hi @ librarian!namjoon!!! fratboy!jungkook is also in here

❥ wordcount: 37k if ur reading this on mobile get rekt

❥ summary: kim taehyung becoming your new roommate is definitely up there on the list of the worst things that have ever happened to you.''

waterloo - @kinktae ♾️Ω☻¶

''Taehyung is a famous but pessimistic art prodigy who doesn’t believe in love. You are an art student studying in Paris, who sees the world through rose-colored lens and is a certified cheesy romance film enthusiast. And this is your love story.

Or, “Well, it is the city of love. Maybe you just need to fall in love.“

pairing: art prodigy!taehyung x art student!reader word count: 13k genre: FLUFF, angst, light tasteful smut''

falling in crayolove; (kindergartenteacher!taehyung) - @jungshookz ♾️

''✎ pairing: kim taehyung x reader

✎ genre: kindergartenteacher!au, workingman!au, F L U F F, tiny bit of angst at the start :-( but this is literally 98% fluff; y/n and taehyung are like two little kids with little crushes on each other

✎ trigger warning(s): implications of getting an abortion!!

✎ wordcount: 10.5k

✎ summary: y/n is a very single mom and taehyung is a very single kindergarten teacher. emma knows exactly what she needs to do.''

freefall - @jtrbluv ♾️☼☻

''summary: hearing banging noises outside your front door at 11 at night could mean one out of two things. one, you are seconds away from getting chopped up by an axe murderer. two, someone is purposefully being an inconsiderate asshole.

or three, a fratboy from delta phi who goes by the name of kim taehyung faceplants in front of your door amidst a high-stakes game of… hide and seek?

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: fluff, smut (pretty tame tbh! cuz it’s my first time eek), comedy, college!au, fratboy!au

word count: 10k

warnings: RATED 18+, grinding, dryhumping, palming, mentions of drugs and alcohol (yk regular frat shit), swearing, taehyung is a gentleman fr tho my gawd with a big co-''

farmer boy, i love you - @strawberrynamjoon ♾️☼☻

''– Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

– Genre: farming!au, lowkey e2l, smut, humor & tons of nagging

– Word count: 35k

– Summary: Needing change in your life you decided it would be a brilliant idea to move to your uncle’s small farm, helping him and your cousin Jimin with the daily work. What you didn’t plan was to fall in love with your beautiful yet very annoying neighbour Taehyung, who seemed to make it his personal mission to tease you every chance he got. And what you expected even less was that he seemed to like you too.

– Warnings: includes smut, alcohol and mentions death of a father''

The Crown That Is Ours - @taeshobipop ♾️Ω☻

''pairing: Taehyung x Reader

genre: fluff, angst, smut, royalty!au, arranged marriage!au, crown prince!th, princess!reader, idiots to lovers

summary: You never wished for it, but it was inevitable — an arranged marriage to a royal stranger. The Crown Prince Kim Taehyung.

A year into your marriage and life still holds you firmly in its grip. How do you plan to steer through this mess when the public suddenly comes knocking at your door, pitchforks and torches in hand, threatening: “death to all who commit fraud!”

rating: 18+ sexual content.''

Rent-a-Boyfriend - @jimlingss ♾️

''Words: 12k

Genre: Extreme fluff for all you bitter people out there (me being included)

Are YOU lonely? Need someone to cuddle at night? Do you want love?

If you said 'yes' to any of the questions previously mentioned then we have a service for you!

Don't be alone for this Valentine's Day!

Come Rent-a-Boyfriend!™

(terms and conditions may apply. we are not responsible for any emotional or sentimental damages. please take caution with rent-a-boyfriend). ''

Jeon Jungkook

series:

new girl - @jjkeverlast ♾️☼☻¶

''☞ summary after finding out your boyfriend of 6 years cheated on you, you find yourself moving in with three guys in a loft. what could possibly go wrong? – inspired by the FOX series New Girl.

☞ pairing jeon jungkook x female reader

☞ genre roommates!au, roommates to lovers, romantic comedy

☞ status completed!

☞ rated mature (+18)''

Her - @jungk0oksthighs ♾️Ω☻

''bestfriend!jungkook, tattooist!jungkook, F2L, fluff, smut, angst

“And even if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay – I’ll always be here for you.” ''

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oneshots:

like stars in a constellation - @taegills ♾️Ω ¶

''↬ meeting in reverse au

pairing: jeon jungkook | reader

genre: slight sci-fi, fluff, angst

word count: 20.9k

summary: And at midnight, as you sit there and contemplate how the two of you were like stars in a constellation, you watch the sky with bated breath. Because somehow, for the first time since you got caught up in all of this a year ago, it almost seems like the stars are finally spiraling backwards and time feels a little more still than ever before. And when you hear your name, you turn around so fast that the world stops spinning''

the universe of us. - @taesthetes ♾️Ω ¶

'' “I love you.” — “I know.”

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader | kim taehyung x reader genre: slight comedy, angst, fluff type: dream / fantasy / slice of life au word count: 21,112 words warnings: none''

tangled webs - @ughseoks ♾️Ω

''— pairing; spiderman!jungkook x reader

— genre/au; soulmate au / spiderman au / angst, fluff

— rating; pg15

— word count; 14.1k

— summary; Soulmates are tricky thing. Not everyone is lucky enough to have their destinies intertwined with their missing piece. Signs come in dreams for those fortunate souls; short bursts that are barely memorable when the sun rises. As for you? Flashes of red and blue are your only indicators to the identity of your other half.''

Hopping Mad for You - @readyplayerhobi ♾️☻

''; Rabbit Hybrid!Jungkook x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, smut

; Word Count: 9.7k

; Warnings: Unprotected sex, handjob, blowjob, virgin sex, virgin!Jungkook, pretty sub!Jungkook

; Synopsis: For two years you’ve lived with your rabbit hybrid roommate, Jungkook. He’s been a model roommate and you’ve found yourself with little complaints. But his behaviour lately has been a little…unusual.''

Devoted to Trouble - @jeonsweetpea ♾️Ω ☻ ☼

''Spider-Man!AU | Peter Parker!Jungkook x Reader

genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst rating: explicit description: In which the whole world finds out Jungkook is Spider-Man, but he doesn’t care about anything but you. OR Can you survive seven days of Jungkook pining over you while his identity is exposed to the world? word count: 11.5k''

The Love Plaza - @mayolive-writes ♾️☻ ☼

''Pairing: Jungkook x AFAB Reader

Summary: Needing to take a break from the long trip to college, you and Jungkook are forced to stay at the only lodging available within 70 miles, a love motel. And much to Jungkook’s dismay, there’s only one bed.

Wordcount: 4102

Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Smut, Best Friends to lovers, Oneshot(?)''

the underwear thief - @gukyi ♾️☻

''summary: jeon jungkook would like to make one thing very clear: it’s not his fault.

{neighbors!au}

pairing: jungkook x female reader word count: 10k genre: fluff, smut''

1999 - @tattookoo ♾️Ω ☻ ☼

''summary: the year was 1999. boybands were wearing all-white outfits, everybody wanted an ibook or a tamagotchi, tlc didn’t want no scrubs, fight club was playing in movie theaters and you became jeon jungkook’s fake girlfriend in order to fix his reputation.

pairing: campus royalty!jungkook x f reader

genre: one shot, 90s au, college au, hockey au, childhood neighbors to friends to idiots to lovers, fake dating, fluff, crack, angst, smut rating: 18+

word count: 17.9k''

tuesdays - @axialitae ♾️Ω

''tldr. you believe your very reserved, reclusive roommate jungkook is a peculiar boy who’s far too concerned with how you spend your tuesdays.

💭 prompt. “i don’t owe you an explanation.”

🤍 pairing. jungkook x f.reader.

🐻‍❄️ genre. non-idol au. pure domestic fluff. tiny angst. roomies + kinda dumb-dumbs to luvrs.

☁️ word count. 12.1k''

Tamped - @chimoona ♾️Ω ☻ ☼

''Pairing: Shop Owner!Reader x Barista!Jungkook/Switch!Jungkook/Baby Boy!Koo, Reader x Dom!Yoongi (for, like, a second) Genre: Smut, Fluff, Humor, Slow Burn, Mild Angst/Jealousy | Barista AU Word Count: 19.7K Rating: M (18+) Summary: You and your business partner/best friend Jin have struggled to find good help to run your coffee shop. Employee after employee, it just never worked out. However, Jungkook is determined to impress and deliver. He wants this more than ever, and it always feels good to want something. To need, well, that’s even better.''

(Right) Hook, Line, and Sinker - @blog-name-idk ♾️☻ ☼

''Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Fem Reader

Genre: College!AU, Roommate!AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

Summary: Your horrible friends trick you into going to a haunted corn maze, where you inadvertently punch a zombie. Jungkook is, of course, in love.

Word Count: 12,353''

OT7

series:

The Return of an Empress - @you-are-my-joy ♾️Ω ☻ ☼¶

''Status: Completed

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Isekai, Angst, Romance, Fluff, Smut

Characters: Empress!Reader, Advisor!Jin, Advisor!Yoongi, General!Hoseok, Advisor!Namjoon, Assassin!Jimin, Knight!Taehyung, Knight!Jungkook

Summary: After one fateful night, you find yourself transmigrated into your favorite novel as the Empress that shares the same name as you. As a bookworm, most would think you’d be happy, but how could you be happy when the Empress you’ve become is expected to be killed in three months. The only thing on your mind now is to learn how to survive.

Warning: May contain depictions of violence and mentions of abuse throughout the story.

Total Word Count: 280,808''

mother knows best - @seokth ♾️☼ ¶

''pairing | ot7 x female reader (platonic), ot7 moms & female reader

summary | being the only woman in a friend group with seven men automatically makes you the love interest in seven mothers’ wistful romantic stories. though your relationship with the guys remains completely platonic, the marriage fantasy their moms frequently project onto you and their sons has them coming up with all sorts of shenanigans to make you their daughter-in-law. mother knows best, you suppose.

warnings | overbearing moms, attempts at humor, platonic, slice of life au''

The Flower Path - @stellalunatmblr ♾️Ω ¶

''Genre/Tags: isekai (kinda?), bangtan x fem!reader, not poly, oc!bestfriend, surprise romantic pairings; rom-com (romance as a subplot), slow burn (the slowest of burns holy moly i cannot stress this enough), fluff, angst (will update tags along the way)

Status: Ongoing [HOLD]

Summary: What would you feel if you find yourself transported to the world of a cheesy web novel? Ecstatic, of course (well, among other things), except you’re stuck being the main character’s best friend slash sidekick. Fair enough, you don’t think you’re main character material anyway. Determined to get through your life that has changed all of a sudden, you try to keep yourself in the shadows of your “best friend.” Let’s just try to get through the last year of high school in peace. You thought it was gonna be easy – like a walk in a flower path– but the thing about walking that road is that there are bound to be thorns along the way.

Inspired by the web novel and manhwa: Inso’s Law''

operation: love letters - @ve1vetyoongi ♾️Ω ¶

''Sign up for the Love Calculator today to find your perfect match?

➤ YES | NO

♡ …L O A D I N G…Y O U R…M A T C H E S… ♡

♡ ⇢ pairing: ot7 x reader.

♡ ⇢ wordcount: est 30k total.

♡ ⇢ genre: mystery, college!au, romance, fluff, eventual smut.

♡ ⇢ summary: When every student on campus is going crazy about a survey that claims to make true love bloom, your best friend manages to convince you to join in on the fun — except you’re disappointed to find out that your results just seem to be lost causes. That is until a love letter from a mysterious secret admirer turns up and you find yourself on a mission to find the person behind the pen — but you quickly realise it’s going to be a lot harder than you initially thought when you have 7 possible bachelors to investigate, right? Operation: Love Letters a-go!''

The Galaxy Above Us - @agustdakasuga ♾️Ω

''Genre: Gods!AU, Fantasy, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, God of Wisdom!Namjoon, God of Life!Seokjin, God of the Moon!Yoongi, God of Festivity!Hoseok, God of the Sun!Jimin, God of Nature!Taehyung, God of Arts!Jungkook

Summary: Just when you thought that you life was at its end, you were ready to disappear but a door appears in front of you. Above you was the milky way and awaiting you were the celestial beings that waited their whole lives for you. To show the galaxy that was made for you.''

Everything Falls (Into Place) - @blog-name-idk ♾️☻ ☼

''Pairing: OT7 x Fem Reader

Genre: College!AU, Roommate!AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

Summary: Your new roommates are unbearably nice and unbearably hot. Good thing you're an adult who is fully capable of platonic friendships with the opposite sex, right?

Word Count: 90,211

Rating: 18+''

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

oneshots:

until the last star falls - @minniepetals ♾️Ω ¶

''— summary: it was a love you knew would never make it out alive without sacrificing a part of your happiness to receive a greater happiness. but for them, you’d go to any extreme to have them again, and for you, they will always remind you each day that you are theirs and that nothing can tear you apart, not even until the last star falls.

— pairing: underworld lords!bts × shield!reader

— genre: fluff, angst / reincarnation!au / poly!au / gods!au

— word count: 44.4k ”

Spooked - @alpacaparkaseok ♾️☼

''Pairing:best friend!BTS, maybe some secret crushes going on? 👀

Premise: You + all 7 members of BTS visiting a haunted house. What could go wrong?

So, so much.

Word Count: 4k''

821 notes · View notes

have-you-seen-my-sanity · 1 month ago

Text

Eclipse

Yandere Moon Knight System x fem!reader

A/n: This is quite long, so I am sorry if there are some errors I may have missed myself. :/

CW/Triggers: Slow burn, lewdness, kidnapping, obsessive and possessive behavior, stalking, mature themes, strong language, nsfw, m! masturbation, unhinged, alot of swearing.

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Ever since Steven talked to you at the Museum, he became infaturated by you. No matter how bitchy Donna was to him during his job, whenever he saw you it was as if all the tension and anger has left him.

It was Marc who discovered you were working at the coffee shop nearby of the museum while he was waiting for his coffee. When he told Steven about it, he couldn't believe his luck.

Today Steven was on his usual shift, selling made up Egyptian sweets and doing inventory here and there whenever Donna demanded it. The gift shop was pretty much empty, giving Steven some time to rest and let the other two front. Jake was currently fronting, casually messing up the sweets only to put them back into place because he was bored. For the next couple minutes no one came into the gift shop, Marc wanted to just go home, Jake was bored and Steven was tired. Jake finally heard some steps towards the shop, letting Steven front incase it was a customer. You came into their view, walking past the gift shop.

*Stevo! Your crush is here!*

Steven let out a huff at Jake's remark. "Jake please.."

*Hombre, come on, go get her.*

"I bet she already has a partner, Jake. Just look at her."

Marc felt the need to chime in. *Buddy, she's always alone. You have to take the chance before someone else does.*

Ever since Steven knew where you worked, he was actually thinking about it but he was scared you wouldn't accept or already have a partner. Steven didn't show it, but his mind was already imagining how it would be like to walk you home, especially at late or night shifts, to make sure you get home safe.

"But I can't, what if she doesn't want to?"

Steven sounded like he was about to give up but he knew Marc and Jake would help him as much as they can.

*Then let one of us ask her out and you go to the date.* Marc suggested.

Steven leaned against the counter. "Like the last date? At the Steakhouse?" he couldn't help but chuckle lowly at the thought.

Jake felt the need to interfere. *Steven, compadre, why don't we go to her and you ask her out, hm?*

Steven paused to think. On one hand, he was really tempted to just ask you out, on the other hand, he was a bit shy to do it, he was afraid you'd turn him down, or worse, think he's some kind of a weirdo. "Jake? Marc? But what if she already has a partner?"

*Buddy, like I said, she's always alone even when walking home. So the chance is not that high.* Marc replied.

Steven checked the clock, only 15 more minutes until his shift ends. "Fine, if she's still here when my shift ends, I'll try asking her."

Jake and Marc were satisfied with the answer and Steven remained fronting until his shift was over, he packed his bag and made his way out, keeping an eye out incase you'd still be in the museum. It was already getting dark outside, Steven hasn't seen you anywhere and assumed you're already gone. As he stepped out of the museum he looked at the coffee shop you were working close by the museum, and he had to look twice because he saw you leaving the place. His heartrate and breathing quickened just a tad bit at seeing you again.

Jake had an idea he just had to share with Steven. *Should we follow her just for a minute?*

"Whoa Jake, are you telling me to stalk her?"

Jake let out a wince. *Ehh, I wouldn't necessarily call it 'stalking'. Let's just say 'protection'.*

*But we better keep some distance, we wouldn't want to scare Steven's lovely crush.* Marc added with a slight teasing in his voice.

Steven sighed before he slowly started following you from a safe distance. "Both of you are crazy." he cursed under his breath. They noticed you were a bit distracted by your phone, so Steven found it easier to follow you without you noticing that fast.

*Gotta admit Steven, she's pretty.*

*Yes she is. See? It was a good idea to follow her, huh?*

Marc's and Jake's words somehow put Steven at ease. As Steven followed you, he couldn't help but appreciate the way you walked. He was feeling so confident right now that if someone decided to attack you, he'd beat the person up.

*You really got a big crush on her, do ya?* Marc said amused, teasingly even as if he noticed something Steven did not.

Steven bit his lower lip. "A bit. Yeah. A bit."

Jake's snort echoed through the headspace. *A bit? Hermano, your dick is about to burst out of your pants from that 'a bit'.*

Steven was confused for a second before looking down on himself, seeing the obvious bulge in his pants he somehow didn't notice before.

"Oh bollocks..." Steven cursed under his breath.

*Well, our dick wants attention if it catches something it likes, buddy.* came Marc's teasing remark.

*Come on, Stevo, let's head back before someone sees our uh, 'problem'...* Jake suggested but Steven didn't want to leave yet, he wanted to make sure you get home safe.

"No wait, she hasn't even made it home yet." he argued, continuing to follow you from a distance despite the raging hard-on between his legs. While walking, Steven bit his lip from time to time to suppress the urgent need growing stronger with every second he watches you walk. "Oh my god, I feel like a bloody pervert."

*Nah, it goes away.*

*Oohh, ladies man speaking up.*

"Guys you're not helpin'!" Steven whispered in harshly. He looked back at you, seeing you walking towards a house, assuming it was yours. "I think she's home now." but Steven couldn't wait until he made it back home, the need was too much for him so he decided to search for an alleyway to deal with his need. Steven quickly found one just across from your house, he got behind a dumpster but looked around to make sure he's safe to go with his handiwork.

*Don't tell me you're dealing with yourself here.* Marc questioned.

*He may even get a look on his crush from here.* Jake chimed in.

"Sorry guys, I jus' can't wait any longer..." he fumbled with his pants, pulling down just a bit to get his throbbing cock free. The tip was already leaking generously as he gave himself a few strokes with a shaky breath.

*Dios mios, Steven... she really did mess your head up, eh?*

"Yeah." Steven rasped, leaning back against the wall and stroking himself slowly as the pre-cum leaked down on the floor. He looked at your house, seeing the lights turned on inside a room at the second floor which he guessed was your room. He saw you walking past the window, causing him to pump his hand faster. "Fuckin' hell..." he closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall, imagining how he could just summon his suit to storm into your room and rail you senseless.

Of course Marc and Jake noticed the way Steven relaxed, they knew he must imagine something dirty right now.

*I bet he's thinking about fucking her right now.* Marc said, his voice was strained already.

*Can't blame him.* Jake added, his voice was equally strained as Marc's.

Steven opened his eyes, his breath was starting to quicken, his lips were parted as he listened to Marc and Jake. "Jesus, guys..." he groaned, but deep down, he knew they were right. He wanted to fuck you. He wanted to feel you pussy gripping his cock. He wanted to–

At one point you came to your window to close the curtains, Steven eyed the way you stretched your arms, imagining how they'd look out stretched in other ways...

He almost came at seeing you by the window, but he slowed down, edging himself because he didn't want it to end. Not while he's thinking about you.

*Imagine how good she'd look getting split open on our cock, Steven. Going to ruin her for every other guy.*

Marc's words made Steven's mind slowly but surely go into a more darker territory. He knew Marc can get possessive, Jake too, and Steven wasn't like this but something about you– it made him ignore it. He wanted you.

Steven couldn't help himself at the thought of finally having you, his breath was getting heavy as he rapidly pumped his fist and with a relieved moan, he spurted his cum on the dirty alley ground.

"Fuck." he breathed, relaxing back against the wall to catch his breath. After a moment of calming down, he tucked himself back in, checking if he was still alone before making his way out of the alley but not before glancing at your house one last time.

*And now? What if she does have a partner already?* Marc asked, genuinely curious what Steven will do since he just jacked off in that alley at the thought of you.

"I don't know mate, m-maybe just accept it?" Steven asked, he wasn't sure what he'll do. Overthinking the possibility of you having a potential partner made his mind snap further more into the darker area. He wasn't even sure if he could accept it. And now with the knowledge that Marc and Jake like you too, maybe even as much as Steven himself does, there is a chance they can make the situation get out of hand.

"But now you two like her too, yeah?" Steven asked, he started making his way back home.

*Now I do, Stevo. After what you just did, I like her.* Jake confirmed.

*She's so beautiful, Steven. How could I not like her?* Marc confirmed aswell.

Knowing Marc and Jake like you as equally as him, Steven feels bolder but his mind scratches the twisted path again because he, Marc and Jake can be difficult when they want to and if they set their mind on something, it's a serious challenge to tear them off their mindset.

While you were sleeping peacefully in your bed without a single concern of what happened just outside your house, Steven soon arrived home, his mind was pre occupied by you and so were Jake's and Marc's too. Even though Marc and Jake didn't really care about Steven's crush on you at first, they did snap now. Usually they would just mind their own business and let Steven deal with his partners but now? Now they want a piece of it.

Steven prepared for sleep, flopping down on his bed and pulling the covers up. When he closed his eyes all he could see was you, just you. It drove him nuts, but he managed to sleep for some hours. He woke up with a start in the middle of the night, he catched his breath, rolling over to check the time, it was 4 am.

"Can't even bloody sleep." He mumbled, grabbing his pillow and put it on his face.

*It's because of her, isn't it?* Marc asked.

"Bingo." Steven mumbled into the pillow, sounding defeated.

*Why don't we pay a visit tonight? Nothing much, just a little peek and then we leave?* Jake suggested.

"You mean breaking in? If Khonshu finds out about that..." Steven trailed off, raising the pillow from his face, throwing it to the side and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

*Come on, Khonshu isn't even playing by the rules either. Besides that fucking bird won't give a shit about what we do with our suits.* Jake countered, he especially knew Khonshu would let them do nearly anything if it doesn't involve hurting or killing innocent people.

Steven sat up, running a hand through his messed hair. "A'ight, but we will do it after work, yeah?" he popped his shoulders, getting up to start with his restless day.

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

"Dios, Steven, how can you get along with your bitchy boss Donna? This puta is a kick to the balls." Jake complained while walking out of the museum after a long day of Donna's non stop nagging, complaining and shooing them around.

*Well I dunno either, bruv. I hope one day she chokes on her bloody gum.*

Jake surrendered the body to Steven, wanting nothing more than taking a mental seat to calm down from all of Donna's bullshit. Steven had mentally mapped out the way to your house since last night's adventures outside of it. It was already late, Steven figured you must be asleep by now. His thoughts were right as they arrived at your house, seeing the complete darkness through its windows. Steven stopped infront of your front door, trying the handle to see if it's magically unlocked by some luck.

"Are we goin' to use our suit?"

Marc was quick to answer. *No, we break in the classic way. We don't want to destroy half her house with the suit.*

Steven nodded, letting Marc front who reached inside his pocket, pulling out a blank credit card and slid it between the door slit and the lock. The second the lock gave in and the door opened with a creak, Marc prayed you didn't have a security system or some aggressive guard dog who's just waiting to attack them. Luckily, no alarm, no foaming guard dog, only silence and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall in the hallway.

Marc stealthily creeped through the narrow hallway, stopping on the way to look around your living room before carefully moving on.

*Marc there's a staircase.* Steven pointed out making Marc look ahead and spotting the darkened staircase leading to the second floor. He took one step at a time, letting out silent breaths as some stairs creaked. After what felt like an eternity, Marc arrived at the second floor, spotting three rooms, figuring out which one is your main bedroom.

*Oi, the last door, mate.*

Marc saw the door being ajar, he sneaked towards the room, feeling the doubt rising up at this room being yours but he made his way over just incase. He pushed the door fully open, peeking inside, seeing the white tiles. It was the bathroom. A whiff of your shampoo entered his nose, the smell still lingering in the air. Marc had to stop himself from taking a deep breath to inhale the fresh smell. "It's just her bathroom." he stammered.

Marc was about to turn away but Steven stopped him.

*Wait.*

Marc stopped in his tracks. "What?"

*You think what I'm thinkin'?*

In confusion Marc's eyes roamed the bathroom, landing on the small amount of laundry in the corner. "You mean–?"

*Hell yeah bruv.*

Surrendering to Steven's silent demand, Marc entered the bathroom, closing the door and reached into the small pile. "For fuck's sake, Steven..." he murmured, pulling out one of your panties, feeling his dick growing hard in his pants.

*Come on man, just a little smell.* Jake encouraged, his tone sounding needy.

Marc pulled your panties close to his nose, already smelling your scent, savoring it as his hand snaked down on himself, rubbing his throbbing cock through his pants. "Ah fuck, she smells so sweet..." he ran his nose along the part of your panties that touched your core, inhaling deeply. Your sweet scent invading his nose, his hand quickly unzipping his pants, eagerly reaching inside to pull his needy cock out which was already starting to leak pre-cum from their lewd actions. "Shit, I can't wait to finally–" he didn't even finish his sentance, your smell mixed with the shampoo still in the air was driving him insane, he started fucking his fist, tightening it around his shaft, imagining it being your pussy gripping him, how much of a moaning mess they could turn you into if they wanted.

Just like Steven, Marc had lost his sense for right or wrong too. Marc had always been the more radical thinking one but his morale and semi-sane mind held him back to do something disastrous, but now he didn't care. All he could focus on rightnow is fucking his hand, getting all sorts of dirty scenarios in his now-fucked-up mind.

*Bloody hell Marc, you're making a fuckin' mess on the tiles.*

Steven's words snapped Marc out of his horny-trance, he looked down, seeing the drops of precum staining the floor. Marc couldn't care less about them rightnow but he reached for a nearby box of tissues to wipe the stains off the floor. "There, happy?" he rasped, resuming his handiwork on himself. "Fuck, Steven, what mess did you get us into..." he sighed in delight.

*Wasn't me, mate. It was all her. She's the reason we empty our balls inside her house while she bloody sleeps.*

*Ay Marc, keep the fuck going.* Jake slurred out from the neediness.

As Marc felt his orgasm build up, he could feel a wave of possessiveness wash over him. He knew it was wrong but you simply had your beautiful way messing with their already unstable minds, even if you just as much walked past them in public. In Marc's head, if you had a boyfriend, he'd be sure Jake and he himself couldn't stop themselves from making him disappear from your life.

Marc fucked his fist faster, wanting nothing more than to bury himself balls deep into you. "Guys, if she'd be here rightnow, I don't know if I could control myself..." his movements became erratic, his breathing heavy as he chased his release.

*You'd jump her? Like I would too, yeah?* Steven's voice had that mix of darkness and determination.

Marc couldn't hold himself back any longer. "Yeah, I would–" his breath came out in short gasps, he reached out to tear out a tissue from the nearby box, holding it infront of his cockhead. "I– a-ahh, f-fuck!" he spilled his cum into the tissue with a deep throaty groan, slumping back against the wall. After a minute of calming down, Marc cleaned up any evidence of their sins in there and placed your panties they smelled on back under the small pile of your laundry.

Marc let Steven front, who quickly left the bathroom, checking the middle room. He slowly and carefully opened the door, feeling a slight chill hit him as he looked inside, seeing just an empty bed with some furniture.

*Just a spare bedroom, her room must be the next one.* Marc stated.

Steven reached the third room, pressing his ear against the door to listen for any sounds. When he heard none, he carefully opened the door, the welcoming air with the smell of your shampoo invaded his senses, he couldn't help but take it in. "Look at this sleeping beauty." Steven murmured silently under his breath as his eyes finally landed on your sleeping form, securely tucked away in the safety of your bed. He approached slowly, kneeling down at your bedside, resisting the itch to reach out and touch your soft skin.

*She's such a beauty.* Jake murmured affectionately in their headspace.

*I bet her skin feels like silk.* Marc sounded so at peace.

"I want to lay next to her, take her into my arms..." Steven sighed dreamily, reaching out to ghost his fingers over your blanket-covered shoulder, stopping just at the edge of it, threatening to touch your soft skin.

*Oh you will Steven. You will.* Jake's tone had a dark edge to it. Steven wanted to question him but he just pushed it aside.

*We could try getting her phone number.* Marc suggested.

Your phone laid on the bedside table, Steven grabbed it, turned on the small light and unlocked it with your face ID, grinning internally at how easy you unknowingly made it for them. He quickly found out your number and wrote it down, not bothering to just put your phone back down without looking through it, he didn't wanted to be nosy, and although you managed to turn all their heads upside down they still respected your privacy. But it was tempting nontheless.

He tucked the piece of paper with your number on it into his pocket, his fingers almost moved on their own to touch your hair but Steven held himself together, instead lightly grazing your all too soft hair with the tip of his fingers, wanting nothing more than to run them through your hair and bury his face into them.

"Her hair is so soft. So goddamn soft..." he whispered silently. He realized they already stayed way longer than they intented, so Steven reluctantly straightened up, retreating out of your room and softly closing the door behind himself, leaving you asleep without even a hint of what happened inside your house that night.

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

Back at their home, Steven was still awake, laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He was still feeling so energized, like he could make a run around the blog without breaking a sweat. But instead, he just went for his rubix cube, trying to tire himself with it by solving it easily, messing it up, throwing and catching it but it only served to get sucked deeper into thought.

"Guys?" he asked silently, catching the cube.

*Something's on your mind, isn't it?* Marc questioned, he already knew Steven had something to think about because of how in thought he looked like while trying to tire himself out.

"We're fuckin' insane..." Steven breathed out.

*You've noticed?* Marc asked amused.

"No no no, not like that... I'm talking about her..."

*Let me guess, you keep thinking about her?*

"Yeah..."

*I think it calms you when I say Jake and I do too.* Marc admitted. He and Jake just kept it quiet, they didn't know Steven was like that too, and he also knew they could do something pretty fucked up when all three of them share the same opinion.

Steven put the cube aside. "But you know what that could mean, yeah?"

*Yeah.*

Steven sat up against the headboard and stretched his legs, grabbing the rubix cube again. "And now that we have her phone number..." he messed the cube up again, solving it quickly.

*You wanna call her?* Marc asked surprised.

"I can't help it, wanna hear her voice."

Before they could discuss any further a black fog suddenly appeared in the middle of the room and Khonshu materialized out of it.

"Jake Lockley." the god demanded.

"Steven here, mate..." Steven gave him a tired and annoyed look.

"Steven Grant." Khonshu corrected himself. "I need you tonight. Some scum needs to be cleaned up."

"Aye-aye, Khonshu..." Steven gave a weak mock salute, already being pissed they had to do some work for that pigeon again.

Satisfied with the answer, Khonshu disappeared as quick as he came with a grumble.

*Steven you should better get some sleep.* Marc said since it was still in the middle of the night.

Steven nodded, placing the cube back on the bedside table and got under the covers. He eventually fell asleep and woke up in the morning, feeling oddly refreshed and ready for the day. Steven got up and headed to work. On his way while sipping on his coffee, he saw you entering the coffee shop, it caused his breath to hitch a little at seeing you. He would do anything right now to just talk to you, hell even eye contact with your beautiful eyes would be enough for him.

Walking past you workplace, he got a good look inside through the glass and something caught his eyes. You talking to a guy, smiling and laughing. Steven's grip on his thermos instantly tightened and his blood began to boil.

You shouldn't be supposed laughing to this guy. You should be supposed laughing with them, smiling at them, looking at them.

Jake and Marc obviously were no fools, they quickly catched on how Steven was acting. *Wow, calm down buddy, that's possibly just her co worker.*

"You're right." Steven muttered under his breath, heading inside the museum. He spotted Donna chewing on her stupid gum, already making his way over to him.

"Stevey, lucky you doin the inventory for the rest of the week." She announced, chewing annoyingly noisy on her gum.

"Very lucky indeed..." Steven mumbled sarcastically. "A'ight." he gave her a small forced smile, he was just glad to walk away from her and do the inventory alone for some peace.

His shift passed surprisingly quick, he was alone the whole day so that was a huge plus for him and his nerves. At leaving the museum he let Jake front for the duty Khonshu gave them. Steven was too tired to do it, Marc just didn't want to do it but Jake was always there if he gets to kill some scum.

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

Jake finished the job efficiently and quick. He chose to use the white limousine for the job, there was some blood on the hood but Jake didn't care, he'd clean it up the next day or simply drive into a car wash. But right now he had other plans.

Meanwhile, you just got out of your routine shower, drying off your hair as suddenly your phone began ringing.

Unknown caller

You answered anyway just to be sure. "Hello?"

"Ah hello, doll."

Thinking it had just been someone who dialed the wrong number, you didn't think much of it. "Did you call the wrong number?"

"No. Not at all, princesa."

Jake was leaning against the house opposite from yours, wiping some blood off his cheek he didn't knew he had from one of those scumbags he killed.

You narrowed your eyes. "Uh, seems like it, why else would you call me?"

"I just wanted to hear your voice, sweetheart. Is it a crime?" Jake asked with a smile, tilting his head to the side, making it so that you could literally hear it through your phone.

"Look, if this is some kind of a prank-"

Jake chuckled. "Come on doll, don't be silly, I just wanted to hear your voice that's all."

You got sick of this. "Well you've heard my voice. Bye." just like that, you hung up, blocking the number in the process.

*Aww, she has such a cute voice.* Steven sighed contendly.

"Gotta say, she's really cute when acting all tough." Jake smirked, getting back inside the limo.

Meanwhile after you hung up, you made your way over to your window, peeking outside but seeing nothing except a white limousine with what looked like a dark substance on its hood driving away. While the call gave you some creeps you headed for sleep anyway, in which you fell asleep soundly without any further thoughts.

*We can't get her out of our head, it's like she cursed us or something.* Marc said as Steven took over the body.

"She did Marc, she did. With her angelic beauty." Steven replied, he made his way to Gus' tank, feeding him and watching him swim.

*Stevo, since we are all going crazy on her why don't we... take it a step further?* Jake asked slowly, with a hint of determination.

Steven looked back to the mirror, seeing Jake look back at him with a slow smirk forming on his face.

Steven's thoughts went into the dark area again, he knew all of them were already too far into the mess.

"What's your plan?" Steven asked.

*Simple. We bring her here.* Jake shrugged.

They knew it was wrong, but you unknowingly made their minds snap in the worst way possible.

*But we gotta prepare everything. We wouldn't want her escaping.* Marc said.

Steven thought for a second. "We could just lock the door from outside?"

Marc nodded. *Yes but maybe make sure she won't even reach the door, you know?*

Jake clapped his hands together. *Handcuffs. To the bed.*

Marc, Steven and Jake agreed on their plan and started preparing. Shortly after they went to sleep, and for some reason tonight they slept peacefully, no waking up, no nothing. When they woke up the next day, Steven had the body for the most, only letting Marc and Jake front after he was done with his shift. When they got back home, Marc took the body and arranged everything they needed, then when it finally got dark outside, Jake got the body.

Jake dressed in his usual business attire, he got into the white limousine and drove to your place, knowing you'd be asleep already. Marc was fronting to enter and sneak through your house again, stopping infront of your bedroom door to let Jake front. Jake slid his leather gloves on, whistling softly.

*Bruv, you're acting like a bloody maniac with that.* Steven chimed in.

"No amigo, I am kidnapping her." Jake grinned, adjusting his hat. He opened the door silently, slowly stalking towards your sleeping form. Jake reached into his pocket, pulling out the cloth with the sedatives. He kneeled down at your bedside, admiring your beautiful sleeping features. He softly stroked your cheek with the back of his hand, not worrying you could wake up from that.

"You'll be ours, princess." he whispered softly. Jake noticed you stirring, so he made quick actions, pressing one hand down on your eyes so you couldn't see and pressed the other with the cloth on your mouth and nose. Of course you started to get scared, you tried yanking his hands off, trying to wiggle free but Jake didn't had to use much of his strength to keep you down. It only served to make them snap even further if that was even possible because they knew how fragile you were and how weak you were compared to them. And they loved it. Jake leaned close to your ear as you were getting weaker with every second.

"Shhh, hora de la siesta, princesa."

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

It was absolutely no struggle to get you back to Steven's place, you were so delicate and pretty in their arms. Jake still had to clean off the blood on the hood of the limousine, so they laid you down on the bed in a spare bedroom, cuffing one of your wrists to the headboard.

You got brought back to consciousness some time later feeling lightheaded. You felt the handcuffs slightly scraping against your skin as you just realized you've been kidnapped.

"No... no no no..." you let out a whine, not even knowing what is going to happen to you but you suited yourself for the worst.

You tried tugging hard on the cuffs, but they were too strong to simply break. You started panicing, looking around for anything to get those cuffs off.

Sudden heavy steps echoed outside of the room, you stopped all movements. A whistle could be heard getting louder, along with the footsteps approaching the door. Your breath hitched and your heart went into your throat as the door finally opened. The person stepped inside, the shadows were hiding his face.

"Hola princesa, I assume your nap was good?"

*She looks so scared. So cute.* Marc spoke up in the headspace.

You pressed yourself up against the headboard. "Please, I-I have money..." your voice was trembling in fear. It was all you could come up with in your paniced state.

Jake snorted. "Tch, you seriously think we're after your money?" he couldn't help but grin.

"Then why am I here?"

"You haven't noticed a single thing, eh?" Jake chuckled. "How we were following you home," he started walking closer "how we broke into your house more than once..."

Your heart was beating like a drum in your chest. Jake kneeled down at the bedside.

"You're such an innocent angle, mi amor..." he reached out with his gloved hand to stroke your cheek, the cold leather did only a small fraction to cool down your skin.

"Please don't hurt me." you whispered.

"Oh no, we would never dream of hurting a flower like you. If you disobey however, there will be some consequenses." Jake had silently let Marc out, you noticed a chance in his accent.

You shook your head frantically, afraid of disobeying. "N-no, no. I promise I won't."

Marc was satisfied with your answer. "That's our good girl. See, you're starting to learn."

Just like Jake, Marc had surrendered the body to Steven, who just couldn't wait to get his hands on you. He removed the gloves and ran his fingers through your hair. The way his fingers scraped against your scalp made you almost forget you were kidnapped by them.

"Tell you what, dove. 'f you promise to stay put, I'll remove the cuffs, yeah?"

You nodded.

Steven got the key out and removed the cuffs, rubbing the sore skin gently. He sat down on the edge of the bed, putting the cuffs away and turning to you.

"C'mere, love." He reached out for you, you were about to scoot away but Steven ignored it and grabbed you anyway, pulling you into his arms.

He couldn't believe how soft you felt, as if you were made to fit straight into their arms. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you against his side.

"Don't be scared love, we will take care of you. You're ours now."

Steven, Marc and Jake were all so happy now that you're finally theirs. No one will take you away from them, you're staying with them. Forever.

#moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #yandere marc spector #yandere steven grant #yandere jake lockley #yandere moonknight #dark!steven grant #dark!marc spector #dark!jake lockley

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psychovigilantewrites · 10 months ago

Text

Sunshine's Shadow

Pairing: Jason Todd/Reader, Dick Grayson/Reader Genre: Slow burn smut? Porn with plot? Like eventually??? Word Count: 7,600 Read on Ao3 Part 1 of 2. Summary: You had powers of darkness that made you feel unwanted your whole life. Jason Todd was the first person to convince you that your darkness was sunshine. After his death, you went to Dick for comfort and started a relationship with him. And then, Jason came back. A/N:

I'm practicing writing again to prepare myself for the last chapter of Red Who? I'm not too happy with how I wrote this, but I'm hoping to start improving again along the way as I write and learn all over again. Also, I am not familiar with Titans! I know Jason never really joined? I just winged it I'm so sorry. I also aged up Jason's death here. I think the timeline is a bit messy pls forgive me.

Jason knocked on your door.

“Come in,” he heard your soft, muffled voice.

You were sitting on your bed, scrolling through your phone. You had soft instrumental music playing in your room. The table lamp was switched on on your bedside table, but the room was still dark.

“We’re getting ready for a spooky movie tonight,” Jason said, closing the door behind him and approaching you. “Care to join us this time?”

Your eyes darted from your phone to his, and you pursed your lips in hesitation.

“No thank you, I’m fine here,” you said and brought your attention back to your phone.

Jason sighed loudly and sat on the edge of your bed.

“Why don’t you ever join us?” he asked, “We’re the Teen Titans. We’re a team. You should join us for more team stuff besides official missions.”

You simply stared at Jason. He sensed that you had more to say but was hesitating opening up. So he got up and sat next to you. “You can tell me.”

“The room is dark, isn’t it?” you asked.

The question surprised Jason. “I mean, I guess? So what?”

“That’s me, Jason. You know how my powers work. This- this curse. The shadow I emit makes everything dark and gloomy, even if it’s a sunny day outside. And no one likes someone who brings darkness in a room,” you avoided his eyes and started picking at a hangnail on your finger.

“That’s why you won’t hang out with us?” he couldn’t help but laugh. “I thought you hated us or something.”

“What?” you looked at him incredulously, “How could I? I was afraid that you all hate me for being so depressing.”

“Has anyone told you that before?” Jason asked. He didn’t know much about where you came from, but he knew that you went to a lot of different schools and orphanages. An outsider, not unlike himself.

“The kids were always scared of me,” you confessed quietly, “They refused to play with me. That was fine, but then soon after they would bully me. Make fun of me, push me down, kick me. Reminded me again and again that I was a freak.”

For some reason, Jason always had the urge to protect you, even though you were slightly older than he was. Now that urge was stronger and he wanted to hurt anyone who hurt you, to shield you from all that negativity.

“Well,” he began, “I don’t know about those assholes, but whenever I see you, I never saw darkness.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Really!” he insisted, “I see a girl who likes to read, and who likes music. I see you smile whenever Roy and Jackson bicker. And when Wally does that thing where he starts vibrating when he eats? And on the field? The way you protect everyone, the way we can all trust that you have our backs.”

Jason held your eyes. “I don’t see any darkness. In fact, I see sunshine! Because whenever you’re around, it makes us all feel warm and safe.”

He saw the way you were trying hard to not let the tears brimming your eyes fall. “You’re not lying.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

“Of course I’m not,” he confirmed. “Have I ever lied to you?”

“I guess not,” you sniffled, “I can tell when people lie. And you have never lied to me.”

“What do you mean you can tell when people lie?”

“I don’t know. It’s sort of always been a thing I could do,” you shrugged, “I don’t join in conversations, so I just observe people, and I can sort of tell what they’re thinking or when they’re lying.”

“Ah, I think I know a thing or two about that,” Jason smiled fondly.

“Thank you, Jason,” you expressed.

“No problem, Sunny,” he grinned, “I’ll call you that from now on. To remind you.”

Jason thought that he saw you blush in the dim light. “So what do you think? Wanna join us for spooky night? I mean, your shadow would even be helpful. It’ll create the spooky ambience we’re all looking for.”

“Is there popcorn?” you grinned.

***

You dumbass, you thought.

The rain had you soaked and shivering.

Jason Todd, you absolute asshole.

The smell of wet dirt was overpowering. Your team stood with you despite your shadow engulfing them in darkness. Roy had his hand on your shoulder.

The white petals stuck to the polished wooden casket as it was lowered into the ground. Your heart had already broke, and you had gone through the stages of breaking down, sobbing uncontrollably, not being able to sleep for a week after they told you the news. Right now, you felt nothing but emptiness.

The casket hit the ground with a dull thud, and you heard the wet footsteps of others leaving the grave. You looked up at the crowd. Dressed in black, you saw some familiar faces. Clark Kent and Diana Prince were with Bruce Wayne, standing in solidarity. A fiery red color caught your eyes, and you saw whom you knew as Starfire. Tall, confident, and radiating with a soft warm glow- everything that you wished you were. She was next to Dick Grayson, and your eyes made contact with blue ones, ones that reminded you of Jason.

Dick gave you a sad smile.

“I heard you’re not going to continue with the Titans anymore,” Dick broke the silence. The rain was still pouring, pounding on the glass window of the car. “Where do I drop you off?”

“East End, along Murphy Avenue,” you replied. You watched two droplets on the window fall down, racing against each other. “I have some boxes left in the Tower, but I don’t feel like seeing them today.”

“Are you going to be okay on your own? You’re not even 18 yet.”

“I’m turning 18 in three months,” you rolled your eyes. “And I already got a job.”

“Oh? That was quick. What job?”

“Private investigator,” you responded, “Lot’s of scandals in Gotham. It’s quite easy to get a job if you’re half decent.”

“Pay well?”

“Well enough.”

Silence again. Dick made a turn.

No word was said until he stopped in front of the apartment complex. Unknown to you, Dick made a mental note to check the apartment out.

“Thanks, Dick.” Something stopped you from leaving the car. Something warm. Ah, it was Dick’s hand on yours.

You looked over and stared into his bright blue eyes. “I’m here for you. Anytime of the day or night. Text me, call me, whatever. You’re not alone.”

It was his expression. The pain and grief and sincerity in his eyes. A hint of desperation, even. By now, your talent for reading people had developed, and you could tell more than just basic emotions. Dick didn’t want you to leave him alone.

Your pulse quickened.

“Would you… Like to come in?” you asked.

Dick was surprised. His eyes darted downwards in a look of… guilt? And then- “No, it’s alright. You said you wanted some alone time. Go settle down first, then maybe you can give me a house tour sometime.”

Then he gave you the grin. Dick Grayson’s charming, heart-stopping grin.

You left the car.

THREE MONTHS AFTER THE DEATH OF JASON TODD

You spent your birthday alone, ignoring the invitations from your ex team members. They all wished you happy birthday, and sent you voice notes of them singing. They said they wished you were there with them, and that they hoped you were well. You replied with a simple thank you.

The apartment you made yours was bare. The walls had no art, and the TV was unplugged. What was the point? Your darkness would have made the art on the walls difficult to see and it was not like you were planning to invite anyone over.

A couple of case files sat neatly on the dining room table, where you did your work. Your name had spread by word of mouth after your first client three months ago, and now you occasionally received texts from unknown numbers, asking for discretion and offering a few hundred dollars a day for a week of work.

Your phone buzzed. It wasn’t an unknown number this time.

Dick had sent you a text. Happy Birthday! Still waiting for that house tour.

You sent a quick thank you and ignored the rest of the message.

SIX MONTHS after the death of Jason Todd

You arrived late on purpose. “Sorry I’m late.”

You sat down in the booth seat opposite Dick and saw the way his eyes lit up when you announced your arrival.

“No worries,” he brushed it off. “Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah,” you grabbed the dirty menu from the table. Anything to fill up the awkwardness you were expecting. “What do you usually have here?”

“Waffles with ice cream.”

“For dinner?”

“Why not?”

Dick Grayson gave you his Dick Grayson Grin.

You told the aging waitress your order- “I’ll have what he’s having.”

“So how have you been doing? You seem quite busy now, since this dinner was postponed to two months later,” he teased.

“My work isn’t exactly nine to five, five days a week,” you replied curtly. You had avoided this dinner on purpose.

“No, no, I get it. Mine is the same,” he said. “It’s good that you have been getting lots of clients lately. You seem to be high in demand now.”

“Yeah, I am, actually,” you smiled softly to yourself, “I didn’t expect for business to move this fast. I’m mostly investigating cheating spouses and party daughters now, though. Hoping to move on to the more serious stuff.”

“Careful,” Dick warned you, frowning slightly, “Try not to get involved with the politics here. It’s messy, and dangerous.”

“I can take care of myself, Dick,” you assured him.

He paused. “Yeah, I noticed,” his expression quickly changed, “You’ve been controlling your shadow.”

Indeed, you have been working on pulling in your shadow while you were out in public, making it seem as normal as possible so you don’t engulf rooms with darkness, especially with your current state of mind.

Soon after Jason died, you found out that your shadow had grown larger and larger, directly linked to your moods. Then you noticed that it shrank when you were concentrating on your cases, leaving the room bright. So you meditated and practiced, day and night, to keep your shadow and your emotions in check. However, it was tiring to constantly shrink it for long periods of time.

“Practice makes perfect,” you replied bitterly.

“Jason used to talk about you all the time, you know?” he suddenly brought up.

This came as a surprise for you.

“Really?” you cocked your head to the side, “What about?”

“Lots of stuff,” Dick elaborated, “But mainly about how to make you feel more welcomed. How to get you to open up. What stuff to talk to you about. He considered you his best-friend.”

You had considered Jason the same. He was the first person you had truly bonded with, but you never knew that Jason had communicated with Dick about you. True enough, he always tried his best to make sure you never felt left out. You felt your throat tightened and gulped.

Your waffles arrived, and Dick immediately dug in.

“He said that he called you something,” he continued in between bites, “Sunny, right? Said it was short for Sunshine.”

You hadn’t heard that in six months.

Dick looked up at you and panic took over his face. “Shit- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your eyes this time. You quickly wiped them away and stabbed the waffle with your fork.

“No- no, it’s fine,” you insisted, “I just hadn’t heard that name in a while. And I didn’t know he talked to you about me.”

Dick looked at you with concern. “Pretty sure he had a crush on you, with the way he was always talking about you.”

You were pretty sure, too. You could read people well after all.

“What made you choose this diner?” you asked, changing the subject. “We used to come here all the time.”

“Yeah, I haven’t stepped in here since that day,” he avoided saying Jason’s name now.

For the first time since you sat down, you actually studied him, beyond the basic emotions that you instinctively saw in everyone. The slight frown, the dark circles under his eyes, the short chewed up nails, the five o’ clock shadow that was rare for Dick Grayson.

He was grieving alone.

“Whenever Jason faced a problem when he was with us, out in the field, or anything, he would always ask himself- ‘What would Dick Grayson do?’” you told him.

His eyes softened, and you could see tears start to well up too.

“He really looked up to you,” you went on, wanting to give Dick the same comfort he gave you. “His older brother. Though, he kept it quiet. He didn’t want people to notice how much he cared. You know, the whole tough guy act.”

Dick chuckled at that. “But you noticed, of course.”

“Of course,” you smiled fondly at the memory. When asked if his injuries hurt, Jason would always reply with Only when I laugh.

But he accepted the cold compresses and paracetamol you gave him.

12 MONTHS AFTER THE DEATH OF JASON TODD

The camera shutter clicked. You checked the quality of the photo on your digital SLR. Even from across the street and in the darkness of the night, your camera caught the couple entering the motel, hand-in-hand, perfectly. This would be sufficient evidence for your client. The classic case of Cheating Spouse was going to earn you a couple thousand dollars. Frankly, you had considered rejecting the case. You only went for high-profile scandals now. But the client was desperate, and offered a large sum of money for something so easy and simple. It was difficult to refuse.

You contemplated on whether you should go the extra mile to catch them in the act. Or maybe you should just stake out in your car and catch them coming out of the motel. You took pride in how detailed your reports always were, and that was how you managed to build your clientele.

You took a sip of the bad, black coffee, already gone cold.

Peering through the zoom lens, you angled the camera up to the rooms facing the street. The movement you caught, however, was not the lights of a room switching on. Instead, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a shadow hanging about the fire-escape in the narrow alley next to the building. You zoomed in more, and saw a familiar blue and black spandex, white eyes, and a familiar grin.

“Fuck,” you swore to yourself. Of all the places to bump into him.

You had gotten close to him since that dinner. The both of you had been texting regularly, getting to know each other and sharing stories about Jason. It helped you with your grief, and you knew it helped him too. You found out that Dick Grayson was voluntarily very expressive with his emotions, unlike his late younger brother who always needed an extra nudge.

Despite all that, you had been trying your best to avoid Dick for the past few weeks and had been giving him the excuse that you were busy. The truth was, you were scared. You knew how close you were getting to him, and right now you were lonely. So lonely that you were afraid of doing something you would both regret.

Knock, knock, knock. The glass rapped three times.

You looked over at the passenger side and saw that grin. Sighing, you unlocked the door.

“What a nice surprise,” Dick greeted you as he shut the door. “Didn’t think I would see a beautiful lady when I left home tonight.”

You rolled your eyes at his usual flirting. “I’m on a job, Dick.”

“I can see that,” he shamelessly went through your case file that was sitting on the passenger seat before he entered. “I thought you don’t take these cases anymore?”

“The poor guy was desperate, and he offered a lot of money for a simple, menial task,” you explained. “I don’t get why he doesn’t ask someone cheaper. Literally anyone could do this.”

“But they can’t do it as well as you do,” Dick booped your nose with his gloved finger.

“What about you? What brings you to this side of town?”

“Tim needed help with some training. And patrol brings me everywhere, sweetheart,” he smirked.

You noticed that your body had subconsciously turned towards him. His eyes were not visible then, covered by the whites of his mask. He was slightly damp due to the drizzle outside.

You cleared your throat. “I’m going to stake out here until they come out. Note how long they were together.”

“That could be until the sun rises.”

“Yep.”

“Need company?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I thought you needed to patrol, and help Tim.”

“Ah, you’re right,” he sighed dramatically, “I’d much rather be in this steamy car with you, though.”

“Go and help your Robin, Dick,” you chuckled, unable to resist him. “Your mentee needs his mentor, Gotham needs its hero and you’re here cozying up with a PI.”

“How irresponsible of me,” he muttered. You hadn’t realized that both of you had moved closer.

You risked a quick glance to his slightly parted lips before tearing your eyes away. He was right, it had suddenly got steamy in the car.

“Text me when you’re back? It’s dangerous to be alone at this hour,” he said before stepping out and flying off in the most flamboyant, Dick Grayson way.

I can take care of myself.

You took deep breaths to calm down and slow your heartbeat.

Maybe you were scared that you were so lonely. But a part of you knew that starting something with Dick wouldn’t be too bad.

You were just scared of being judged by Dick’s dead, younger brother.

The next weekend, you found yourself on your balcony. It was 3 AM, and you were slightly tipsy from the cocktail you made yourself. You closed your eyes and listened to the sound of the wind, the cars, the occasional police siren. You made your decision.

Need you. you texted Dick, knowing he was out on patrol.

15 minutes. he replied.

Jason was dead. There was no one else who understood and accepted you almost as well as Dick did.

You waited out there in the cold for his arrival. When he did land straight on your balcony, his hair was a mess and he was panting slightly. You grabbed his face and kissed him roughly.

It didn’t matter anymore because Jason was dead.

SIX MONTHS AFTER THE ARRIVAL OF RED HOOD.

It was more difficult to control your shadow, but you tried your best. Moving in with Dick helped a bit more as compared to when you were alone, but you were constantly on edge.

He was alive, and what would he think of this? You and Dick? Would he see it as a betrayal?

Dick was having sleepless nights and was gone most of the time to help Bruce with Jason’s tantrum. Six months since Jason had appeared alive, and God knows how long before he crawled out of his grave, but he had not contacted you even once.

And you knew, you knew he was angry at you. That this whole villain arc had at least something to do with you. Even though it didn’t make sense, that you were never together, that you were nothing more than just best friends.

Somehow you felt that the rage and destruction was directed towards you.

For as long as you got together with Dick two years ago, and a whole year of playing cat and mouse with him ever since that kiss, you never had radio silence from him for this long. Two or three days was the maximum, and he would reassure you that everything was fine while you continued on with your PI business. A week long was unheard of.

Then, your phone buzzed.

I’m fine. He’s fine. Everyone’s fine.

You let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Is he back? you asked.

He’s gonna take some time off. Need to go. See you soon.

And so you didn’t sleep until Dick came back home the next morning.

“He’s so… broken,” Dick whispered above your head as he hugged you tightly.

You frowned. You didn’t like that word used to describe Jason. A person couldn’t be broken. People weren’t objects. You knew what Dick meant, that Jason was traumatized- but it didn’t mean that he was broken. Broken meant that you needed to be fixed before someone accepted you, that you needed to be functional or useful.

Broken meant that there was a state where people were whole, and you knew too well that there’s no such thing as a whole person. People just existed in different states, and each state was just as important as the other.

Jason told you all of that when you opened up to him about your past. One day many years ago, you fucked up during a mission. Your shadow had hurt someone a little too badly.

“I don’t even know how it works, Jay,” you had cried, “Sometimes it has a mind of its own and it just reacts outside of my control.”

“You saved me in the end,” Jason tried comforting you, putting his arm around your shoulder as you sat on the carpet of the empty living room.

“But I could have hurt you too,” you argued, “It could have attacked your shadow and killed you, the same way I killed my parents.”

You hadn’t told anyone about that. Only the Justice League knew.

“It was an accident,” Jason insisted.

“I’m just a broken person,” you choked. “No one should be near me.”

That was when he took his arm away and held your shoulders in both his hands, forcing you to face him, to stare into his piercing, fierce gaze.

“Don’t ever let me hear you say that about yourself ever again, got it?” he scolded you, “You are not broken. You’re like- like water. Or air. You exist in different states of matter, and each state you’re in is no less broken than the rest. You’re not broken, okay? You’re Sunny, you’re sunshine. You’re just sunshine…”

NINE MONTHS AFTER THE ARRIVAL OF RED HOOD

“Cheating spouse, undercover at Harvard, cheating spouse again…” you muttered to yourself as you browsed your cases in the living room, illuminated by a single warm light above your head. Dick would complain about the mess in the morning when he eats his cereal.

If he even comes back by tomorrow. you finished your own thought.

The blackmail material requests sounded interesting, but you always hesitated to accept the morally gray ones. You usually would go for missing or runaway children, the evidence of corruption, and the occasional journalist request for an inside scoop.

In fact, your eyes caught one such request. An anonymous journalist from the Gotham Gazelle. You received a text from a disposable two days ago, detailing a locker combination and an address. The contents of the locker were documents within a crisp and new light brown folder- a typical case file, along with a thousand dollars in cash and a promise of another two thousand after completion.

Journalists were not usually this cautious, but if they were investigating someone high profile, it was better to remain anonymous. Especially in Gotham.

You took a sip of your dark roast Arabica coffee, engrossed by what your anonymous client wanted you to get. It was already 11 PM.

Then, you heard the bell ring.

You frowned. Dick wouldn’t ring the bell to his own apartment.

Concentrating on pulling your shadow back, you walked barefoot to the door and looked through the peephole.

Your heartbeat quickened at who you saw standing on the other side of the door.

Calm down, calm down, calm down. Deep breaths.

The door clicked when you unlocked it, and creaked when you pulled it open.

You couldn’t remember when you had stopped counting the amount of days since you saw those piercing blue eyes that were so similar, yet so different from Dicks’. Now they were even more different from what you remembered. They were like battleworn armor standing in an enclosed case.

“There’s my sunshine,” Jason smiled weakly at you.

There was no chance of stopping your tears from falling down your face, so you didn’t even try. You let them flow freely as you speechlessly embraced him and felt his warm arms snake around you. The warmth of an embrace you thought you were never going to feel ever again.

He grew much taller than you. He was 16 when he died, and you were just turning 18. You had stopped growing a year or two before that, but boys kept on growing, didn’t they? He was the same height as you were the last time you saw him, but now he was at least a couple of feet taller. Did that mean he was back long before he started going as Red Hood? What did he do for two and a half years? Who-

“Don’t mean to be rude, but can I come in? I’m freezing my tits off out here,” he said. Even his voice was much, much deeper.

You chuckled and nodded, taking a step away to let him in.

You closed the door behind Jason and watched as he walked in slowly, looking around at Dick’s apartment. You noticed he paused at the dining table where you were working, and then strided to the sofa in the living room before taking a seat. You followed suit and sat next to him, not yet trusting your voice to make a sound.

“So,” he began, “You and Grayson, huh?”

Looking so intently, taking him all in, you almost missed the question.

“You’re bigger than him,” you blurted, before widening your eyes in horror at what you were implying.

Jason raised a scarred eyebrow.

“I mean- you- your build,” you quickly explained, “Your frame. Shoulders. Length. Big.”

“Length?” he smirked.

“Height!” you almost yelled.

Jason leaned closer to you and frowned. “Am I making you nervous?”

You couldn’t bear his piercing eyes, so you looked down at your hands.

“I thought maybe you never wanted to see me again,” you confessed, “I thought maybe you were angry at me, and hated me.”

“I was,” he simply stated.

You looked at him in question.

“Angry at you. For a bit,” he sighed and leaned back against the couch, “But I was angry at everyone. You were no exception. I was just mad everyone had forgotten me. Especially those I cared about.”

“I never forgot you, Jason,” you vowed, “How could I ever?”

“Then why did you-” he cut himself off, “Nevermind. I just wanted to say that I’m not mad anymore. I get it. I was dead, and everyone moved on.”

He crossed his arms and again, you noticed how large his arms were. His face was more mature, jawline more defined and square, eyes now more deep set with extra dark circles underneath them. As if your body had a mind of its own, you reached out to his face and caressed the scar across his cheek.

Jason jumped slightly in surprise at the sudden contact, but then closed his eyes and leaned into your touch.

“You have more scars now,” you pointed out, “What happened?”

You felt his breath down your wrist.

“Another story for another day,” he smiled and opened his eyes. You took your hand away, blushing at how intimate that must have seemed to an onlooker. “Where’s Boy Wonder?”

“No idea,” you shrugged. “You want something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”

“Aw, come on, Sunny!” he got up and walked to the kitchen, “It’s a Welcome Back, Jason party. Where are the fun drinks?”

He started opening your cabinets.

“Wow, make yourself at home, why don’t you?” you shook your head and went to join him.

“Mi casa es su casa,” he sang, “At least, that’s what Grayson told me when he gave me the address. Aha!”

He found the cabinet of liquors. “Wow, I’m quite impressed by his collection.”

“That’s my collection,” you corrected him, “Dick couldn’t tell the difference between tequila and rum even if his life depended on it. I have a variety. What do you feel like?”

“You’re the bartender,” he teased, “Surprise me.”

You nodded and proceeded to make him a drink. Jason sat down at the dining table and nosily looked through your files. That was one thing he and Dick had in common, at least.

You set down a whisky sour for him and yourself before clearing your paperwork to the side, giving him the side eye as you snatched a folder from his hands.

Taking a seat across from him, the both of you dinked glasses together and took a sip.

“Strong,” he commented, “That’s good.”

You accepted the compliment silently.

“So, you don’t know where Grayson’s at?” he inquired.

“Nope,” you replied, “I know he has missions sometimes. Helps out here and there. He’s gone for two or three days before he comes back home with a new bruise or cut. I don’t ask for details unless he starts to tell me about it.”

Your chest made an involuntary squeeze that you tried to hide. There were times when you had asked Dick, and he lied to you. You had arguments over where he was, and who he was with before.

Jason studied your poker face intently, and for a second, you felt as though he was interrogating you.

He took another sip.

“How’s business going?” he changed the subject, “I heard you never went back to the team.”

“I couldn’t,” you answered simply.

“Why not?”

“Everything reminded me of you. It hurt too much.”

A deafening silence. A look of guilt. A looming darkness that grew.

“Business is great, actually,” you went on. “And I enjoy the slower-paced nature of the work.”

“Ugh, even stake outs?” he made a face, not commenting on how your shadow became slightly bigger.

“Stake outs can be nice sometimes,” you argued, “Crank down the window, put the radio on, snack on some fries. Sometimes I read, as well. I’m used to spending long hours by myself.”

“Sounds like you haven’t changed much,” he smiled endearingly at you.

“Not even physically?” you pouted, “I’ve been going to the gym.”

He laughed at that. “Yes, I’ve noticed. You look much more… Mature?”

“Are you saying I look old, Todd?” you huffed.

“So fucking old. A hag.”

You stuck out your tongue at him and laughed together, as if nothing ever changed. As if he never died, as if you never grieved for him and longed for him.

“I’m kidding,” he conceded, “You look good. Really good. Dick’s a lucky guy.”

You frowned at the last comment. “It doesn’t bother you, does it? Me and Dick?”

Another pause. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Jason knew you well, so he knew how to answer you. His statement wasn’t a lie.

You heard the jingle of keys in the distance.

“Speak of the fucking devil,” Jason whispered into his drink before taking a big gulp.

“Honey, I’m ho- oh. Jason, I didn’t expect to find you here,” Dick stood in the doorway, stunned.

“Welcome back, babe,” you walked over and greeted your boyfriend with a kiss. For the first time, Dick looked slightly uncomfortable with your display of affection.

“You guys have been hanging out without me!” Dick whined, his child-like persona immediately taking over.

That was how Dick was. You noticed it after a few times with him, how he would mask his emotions or awkwardness with his happy, warm personality. He was a people person, charming his way anywhere and everywhere regardless of any situation.

Yet, you could see through it all. The grief, the aching fatigue, and the countless battle scars.

“Was just leaving,” Jason announced curtly.

“Ngaw, don’t be like that,” Dick tried to persuade him, “Stay a little while. We can catch up.”

“There’s nothing to catch up on,” Jason insisted, “Bye.”

He glanced once at you, and then left without saying a word.

There was a stark difference between the way he was with you and the way he was with Dick. In the short future, you would come to realize that it wasn’t that he was different with everyone else. Jason treated everyone else with the cold, rough demeanor you witnessed- but never you. You were the only one who knew him as though that Jason never died.

You saw Dick’s shoulders slump in disappointment. “How long was he here for?”

“About an hour?” you answered nonchalantly, going back to your case files.

“He has never spoken to me for more than 15 minutes,” Dick informed you, “Even then he would give non-committal answers.”

“Really?” you asked, frowning to yourself. It took just a little while for the both of you to go back to how things used to be. “Maybe he’s more upset at you since you’re his brother.”

“Nah, don’t think that’s it,” Dick came up behind you and nuzzled his face in your neck. “You smell good. Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you hummed, “How was… Your mission?”

“Tiring,” he complained, “You choose a case already?”

“Maybe,” you replied, “Who was there?”

You heard Dick gulp. “Donna. Kon. Wally.”

“And?”

“Kori.”

You felt your chest tighten again. “Okay. I’m tired too. I think I’ll go to bed now.”

“You just drank coffee,” he pointed out, “You’re going to sleep now?”

“Or just lie in bed,” you responded, “Seeing Jason was… emotional.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he ran a hand through his dark, wavy hair.

“You coming?”

“I have to patrol,” he looked at you guiltily.

“But you just got back,” you argued.

“They can cover more ground when I’m around,” he explained. “Sorry. I’ll spend time with you tomorrow, okay?”

You smiled at him and reached a hand to press on his chest. He was so committed, and that’s what you loved about him. He really, truly cared.

“Just stay safe,” you gave him a deep kiss, tasting the cola chapstick he stole from you months ago.

“I’ll see you in the morning, darling,” he breathed.

That night you lay awake in bed, staring at darkness. You let your shadow go at night, allowing it to take over the room. A buzz came from your phone all of a sudden. Another unknown number.

You tapped it open.

This is my number if you need me. J.

It had been a while since you smiled whenever you lay alone, unable to sleep.

And how did you get mine?

You didn’t actually care. You were just so happy to be texting your best friend again.

I’m just a genius, Sunny. You staying up late to work?

You contemplated your answer.

No. Just couldn’t sleep. What do you do now, anyway? Do you patrol with the rest?

Sometimes. I mostly do my own thing now.

What thing?

Another story for another time, sunshine.

I’m glad you’re back, Jay. Thank you for seeing me today. Can we hang out soon?

We can hang out whenever you want.

You were typing a reply, but was interrupted by another message from him.

I missed you lots.

I missed you too, Jason. We have to get caught up with all the slumber parties we missed.

Don’t think Grayson would be too happy with that though.

My best friend is back from the dead. He can suck it up.

I’ll see you soon then?

You contemplated again.

What are you doing tomorrow? I got an interesting case. Wanna tag along?

***

Jason’s heart broke when he found out that you were with Dick. It was a large reason why he was so angry, and why he became so destructive. But he tried to stay angry at you, tried to hate you, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. The years without you were lonely, and he tried to fill up the emptiness with rage.

It took him so long after Bruce brought him back to his senses to finally see you because he was practicing. He knew he couldn’t bear to look at you and Dick while you were together, so he practiced controlling his emotions so he wouldn’t snap and scare you away.

But when you opened the door and he saw your face for the first time in years, everything dissipated. He didn’t need to control any anger because all he felt was longing. It didn’t matter if you were in love with Dick, all that mattered was that you were there next to him.

“Okay, so,” you began as you pulled the car to a stop in a street at Diamond District. “Rupert Thorne.”

“The guy who is running for mayor?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, browsing through the documents, “He allegedly backed Hill in the previous elections, but now he is running against Hill. My client wants me to find evidence of corruption and find out who his sponsors are.”

Jason saw the way your brows stitched together as you read through the file.

It was difficult to be in the same car as you. Even though he was in the passenger seat, he felt like it was a small closet, being suffocated by your demanding presence.

“Why doesn’t he sponsor himself? Isn’t he some sort of closeted crime lord too?” Jason asked.

“I guess that’s the mystery,” you hummed, “He must have been promised something, or he must have promised something- if he wins.”

You smelled like warm cinnamon and vanilla. All Jason wanted to do was to bury his face in your neck and breathe you in. The pull he felt towards you was almost physical. He needed to stop himself from touching you, from claiming you.

“So what’s the first step?” he tried to focus on the case.

“He works in that building there,” you looked outside across the street to the tall mirrored tower. “COO of Trident Shipping Company. He’s doing quite well in popularity lately… Articles say he is modest and humble, charming, thoughtful, charitable… The list goes on. Must have a great PR team.”

Jason smiled to himself. You were starting to think out loud, a habit of yours he noticed one night during a strategy meeting with the team. So many years ago.

“Anyway, we want to see where he goes, who he meets, what he does-”

“Oh no,” Jason groaned, “You scammed me into a stakeout!”

He really didn’t mind if it meant spending long hours with you in your cozy car.

“It’ll be fun!” you tried to convince him, “We can catch up in the meantime! Plus, I do also need to bug his phone. Might need your help with that. I also have some metka, so maybe we can pollinate some lead suspects once we narrow them down and-”

“Woah, woah, woah, hold up,” Jason started chuckling in disbelief, “First of all- one step at a time, please. Let’s make a structured flowchart first before you start rambling off fifty-seven steps ahead. Second of all- metka, are you fucking with me right now? How did you get your hands on Soviet Cold War tech?”

Metka or spy dust- chemically known as nitrophenyl pentadienal or NPPD- was an old and outdated, yet still effective, Russian method of marking or tagging suspected CIA agents during the Cold War by the KGB. It was a discreet powder that stuck to everything. They would tag the agents at the airport, and then anything the agent touched would have traces of the dust. Including Russian assets- spies or informants working for the CIA. They would be able to identify the traitors.

“I’m a PI,” you said smugly, “I’m resourceful.”

Yes, you were. Jason beamed proudly at you. But he said, “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, how about the bug?”

“I have this-” you rummaged through your messenger bag and took out a small silver card the size of a hotel matchbox. It had the Bat sigil.

“So I assume you have Batman’s NFC card because you’re resourceful?” Jason teased. He knew the gadget well. The near field communication device allowed hijacking into another electronic device with NFC just by near contact. It could allow for cloning the device, or installing spyware.

You stuck your tongue at him childishly.

“I wonder what Batman would think of you stealing his gadgets for personal use,” Jason jested.

“Okay, I borrowed it from DIck, and it’s not like I’m using it for personal reasons. This is a highly professional operation,” you huffed, “Anyway, if you could let me finish telling you my plan. It says that Thorne is into French girls and he usually comes out for a smoke break around this time.”

“And?”

“I will be bumping into him. The NFC needs about 30 seconds of contact. I’ll slip the card in the pocket where he keeps his phone. But in case I can’t stick around to take it out, you will have to come walking behind me to pickpocket it from him.”

“Sounds good. What if he’s using his phone?”

“I’ll bump it out of his hand and apologize profusely,” you grinned. “Okay I need to get ready.”

You unbuttoned your weathered leather jacket to reveal a white top with a low neckline, giving Jason a good view of your cleavage.

“Uhhh,” he started awkwardly.

You ignored him and looked in the mirror, smearing lipstick on your lips and smacking them. Then, you ruffled your hair to give it more volume before turning to face him with a “How do I look?”

The red you chose for your lipstick matched your skin tone perfectly. And he never noticed you had a tiny cute mole on the top of your left breast. The way your hair was effortlessly messy made Jason imagine that was how you would look like in the mornings, or when he takes a handful of it while kissing you rough-

“G-great,” he complimented weakly.

If he hadn’t already died, then you were going to be the death of him.

“Oh shit, there he is,” you opened the car. “Quick, hang around a few feet behind me.”

Jason saw you strut as you approached Thorne. He was tall and handsome, and looked good for a man his age. Jason could tell that his suit was expensive. His coat was probably cashmere. He could see why Thorne was so popular. He definitely looked the part. He was talking on his phone, and he was now curious as to what you had in mind.

From down the block and in the crowd, Jason saw you pretend to talk on your phone in perfect French, rushing somewhere unknown. He didn’t notice the cup you were carrying before.

“Ah, putain! I am zo zorr’y, Monsieur!” you bumped hard into Thorne, spilling liquid all over his coat and yourself.

Thorne looked surprised, and then pocketed his phone in his coat. “It’s quite alright.”

“No, no, pleez. Let me ‘elp you,” you made a fuss. You took out a handkerchief from your bag and simultaneously shrugged off your jacket. Jason smirked to himself. No hot-blooded male would be able to resist the sight of you in a wet white low neckline t-shirt.

“Let me pay for your dry cleaning,” you worried, “Oh, putain it speeled down here too.”

You got on your knees and started dabbing the hem of his coat.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Thorne smiled and held your shoulder in a gesture to help you up.

“I am really zo zorr’y,” you looked up at him.

A flash of lust sparked Thornes’ eyes, and Jason knew you were batting your eyelashes at him from that angle. It made him want to punch Thorne square in the jaw.

“It’s really alright, madam,” he insisted, “It was my fault for standing in the middle of a busy pedestrian walkway.”

“I should ‘ave watched where I was walking,” you bit your lip and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Well, let’s just both move on from this. Please don’t worry, I can get my assistants to get me another coat,” he rested his hand on your lower back as he walked you towards the street. “Here is my business card. Feel free to contact me if you need any help navigating the city. I would love to show you all the fine restaurants in Gotham.”

“Monsieur, you are too kind,” you pouted.

“I should thank you for bumping into me,” he winked, “It’s not everyday I get to see a beautiful lady.”

You pretended to blush.

“I have to go now,” he announced, “Please give me a call.”

And with that, he entered the building.

You walked towards Jason with the look of a kid who scored his first goal.

But then, facing him now, Jason swore under his breath. No wonder you managed to bewitch Thorne so easily.

Your shirt was practically see through, and everyone was turning their heads at you. He could see your black lacy bra, and how your tits bounced as you jogged towards him.

“Hells to the yes!” you celebrated, “That was more than thirty seconds. I got the card back and- what are you doing?”

Jason had grabbed your jacket and forcefully put it over your shoulders. “Let’s hurry back to the car.”

Yeah, you were going to be the death of him.

#jason todd #dc comics #batman #red hood #dick grayson #jason todd/reader #dick grayson/reader

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spidybaby · 1 year ago

Text

Begin Again | Part Five

Summary: I've been spending the last few months thinking all love ever does is break, burn, and end, but when I look at you shining eyes, I watch it Begin Again.

Warnings: cursing.

A/N: Hello loves ❤️ thank you so much for being there for me on this journey, I'm so thankful for all the messages, the comments, the likes, and the reblogs. I'm so thankful for all of you who supported this story. I really hope this ending is worthy and you liked it 💛✨️

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Extra One Shot

"Un hijo?" (A child?) He asks confused.

You can hear your dad scuffing like the whole situation was funny to him.

"Pedro," you walk slowly, getting closer. "Dejame explicarte" (Let me explain)

"This is what you were talking about?"

"Por favor." You grab his arm. "Let me explain everything to you. Just not here."

You push him slightly, not wanting to have that conversation in front of your parents.

"Y/n," you mom calls for you. "Por favor, dime que vas a volver. Tenemos que terminar esta conversación." (Please tell me you're coming back, we have to finish this conversation)

"Es enserio?" You scuff. "Adiós." (Are you for real? Goodbye.)

You close the door and walk over to where Pedro is standing.

"Can we go back to your place?"

"Cómo se llama?" (What's his name?) He asks, you can tell his trying to control himself.

Pedro is known to be a calm person, a very cold head one.

But you knew him from the inside, and you know that even with all the patience that he has, when that runs out, it's like a bomb. You can run, but it's not going to help.

"Por favor, no aquí." (Please, not here)

He unlocked the car doors. And without even looking at you he enters the driver's side.

"Pedro," you say as you do the same as he. "Please don't hate me."

He laughs. But not that funny laugh that you loved, this is a dry one. No emotions.

"Vamos a ir a mi casa y no te vas a ir de ahí hasta que me cuentes todo." (We're going back to my house, and you're not leaving until you tell me everything) "Seat belt on."

The way he's driving is scary. But you're can't find the courage to ask him to slow down.

When he parked outside of his house, he turned the car off, hands you the keys, and got out slamming the door.

"Mierda."

You compose yourself before following him. The door is open for you.

"Quieres apurarte?" (Can you hurry) He says from his front door.

You nod slowly, closing the door behind you and walking inside. He sits on the couch, hands hiding his face.

It's not like you're afraid of him. You don't have a reason to be, no matter how mad he was at you, he never laid a hand on you.

"Polo," you say sitting next to him. "His name is Polo."

He sinks further into the couch. He wants to scream, but won't do it.

"He's six months old and has so much of you."

"Six?" He interrupts you. "That means you."

He's mentally doing the math, realizing that the last time you were together was when you got pregnant.

"I found out because I passed out and ended up at the hospital, I was so confused." You say honestly, done with the lies and hiding things out. "Elena asked me if I was going to tell you and I was, believe me I was."

"But" he interrupts.

"But then I saw the tweets about you with that girl. You took her to tenerife with you. It was like a piece of reality. You were living your life and having fun, and I was depressed and crying myself to sleep to the memory of us."

"I can explain."

"You don't have to." You cut him off. "We were over, you didn't know."

"Ella no significó nada" (she meant nothing) even when you told him not to explain, he needed to. "She was just there at the right time. And I was such an idiot."

"You're not. I was the idiot here. When I find out about the gender I wanted to tell you, I was done with the whole angry part. But my mom persuaded me into thinking I was going to be fine, that if you wanted, you would have been there and I was heartbroken, I was pregnant and alone. I just said yes and moved on with my life. Paulo and Elena tried to get some sense into my head, but mom always told them off. Now I know why."

The silence falls between you. No one knows what to say.

You wanted to keep apologizing for not thinking straight and letting the jealousy overpower you.

He wanted to be mad at you, but he couldn't blame you for your decisions. If he were you, he would probably have done the same thing.

"Polo" he says after a while.

You smile at him, nodding, "es una bolita de amor, definitivamente un González." (He's a bundle of love, definitely a González)

"Polo," he repeats. "Is that the name you had on your list since you were a kid?"

"Yes" you laugh remembering the list. "The top one."

"Dios, amo su nombre." (God, I love this name)

"Se lo puse pensando en ti." (I named him thinking on you) You confess. "Not because of that list."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember that trip to Ibiza?" You look at him with a funny expression. "Well, we had our first pregnancy scare after that."

"Joder, claro que recuerdo" (fuck, of course I remember) he laughs. "Fer went to the market to get us the pregnancy tests. Elena was lighting up candles and we were locked in the bathroom."

"Elena, did what?" You laugh confused. "Why I never knew that?"

"You were shitting yourself, "Pedro, my mom is going to kill me. I'm living in the streets if this came back positive." He imitates your voice in a very not accurate way.

"Okay, first of all," you point one finger out. "I don't sound like that. And second, I was panicking, okay?"

"To be fair with you, I was panicking too"

"You weren't, you started saying that if I was pregnant we could elope and move together"

"I was optimistic."

"Well, how did that go?" You joke. "After we found I was not pregnant, you took me to drink as a celebration. You got so drunk that you were saying a lot of dump stuff. But you said that you wanted two kids with me, a boy named Polo, to keep with the PG initials from your name and a girl named Georgina."

"I still want that" he says looking at you. "We just need to fight again, give it time and boom baby Gio"

"Don't you dare," you laugh again. "It's not easy to be pregnant. It's so scary, you feel everything differently."

"Why you tell me? I can't become pregnant"

You scuff, even on the worst times you can easily talk to him.

"Perdón, Pepi." You take his hand. "I know I can't take back the time and the memories, and I regret that so much. I was stupid and let all the anger and jealousy get into that. I dont want you to hate me after this."

"I won't. I can't hate you, I love you" he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it.

You stayed there for a while, enjoying the gesture, enjoying not having to worry. Being yourselves again.

Suddenly you get up from the couch. Pulling him up with you.

"Ven conmigo." You grab your purse from the coffee table in front of the couch and walk quickly to your car.

He doesn't question your actions, following you outside.

"Get inside." You close the door of his house, pushing him to the passenger side. You drive fast but not crazy like he did.

"Where are we?" He asks, undoing his seat belt and getting out like you did.

"Ven" you extend your arm for him to take your hand. "You need to meet someone."

With the other hand you take your keys and open your door.

"Elena" you call.

"In the room."

"Wait here."

You rushed to the room. Elena is laying down with Polo. She has a face mask on.

"Why are you back so early? We were expecting your walk of shame in the morning, verdad bebé?" She asks, checking the time.

"Pedro está en la sala." You say so casually. (Pedro's in the living room)

"Qué." She yells.

"Callate" you say closing the door.

"Callate tú." He whisper yell at you. "Ya lo sabe?" (He knows?)

You nod.

"Me muero," she sits on the bed.

You both look at each other. You nodding and she was surprised.

"Y que esperas?" She asks. "Ten" (and what are you waiting for? Here)

You took your baby into your arms.

You thank her and turn to the door.

But you can't seem to open it.

"Y/n?"

"I'm fine." You answer. "I just, need minute."

"Cuál minuto ni que nada, ya tuviste seis meses, shu fuera." (Minute my ass, you had six whole months, shu, get out)

She opens the door lightly, pushing you outside and closing the door after you're out.

"Okay." You breathe. "Mi amor, vas a conocer a alguien muy especial." (My love, you're meeting someone really special)

You make a mental note to thank Elena for keeping Polo awake.

You walk slowly, swaying Polo.

Pedro was focused on a picture. It was a picture of Polo right after being born.

He has caressing the glass.

"Pedro."

His head snaps to your direction.

"Joder. Es él?" (Fuck, it's him?) He puts the picture down. "Sorry, language."

You laugh, nodding at his question.

"Polo," you grab his attention, turning him so he can be face to face with his father. "Este de acá es Pedro." (This is Pedro)

You notice the tears in Pedro's eyes matching the ones on yours.

"Pedro, this is Polo."

You get closet to him.

"Hola Polito"

He can't help but to sob. You were right. He looked so much like him.

"Quieres cargarlo?" (Do you want to hold him?)

He nods smiling.

You carefully instruct him on how to hold him.

But he was a natural, hugging him tight but careful not to hurt him.

"He smells so good." Pedro says out of the blue.

You can't help the laugh.

"Bueno, mami lo bañó bien." (Well, mommy gave him a nice bath)

He changes the way Polo is laying on his arms. He wants to appreciate his face.

His hand caresses his face. The child in his arms has his eyes only on him.

"Polo, él es tu papi."

"Papi" Pedro repeat. "Fuck, that sounds so good."

Polo grabbed Pedro's finger, and Pedro kissed his little hand multiple times.

"Eres hermoso." He kisses his cheeks.

You took a step back, searching for your phone. You needed to capture the moment.

You take several pictures, not wanting to forget this moment.

"Mami va a estar tan emocionada." He says, looking at you. "Fer y mi padre." (Mami is going to be so excited, Fer and my father)

Pedro take your hand pulling you into his arms.

"Dios, no sabes cuanto te amo." (God, you have no idea how much I love you) He says, kissing your head. The moment being interrupted by Polo fussing. "A ti también, hermoso" (I love you too) he kisses his cheek now.

"Ay que lindos se miran." (Aww, you guys look so cute like that) Elena says while she takes a picture.

"Where are you going?" You ask her, she has her night bag in one hand.

"Well, Einstein. Obviously, I'm not ruining the moment, plus I don't think you're making Pedro leave Polo's side any time soon. So I'm leaving so you can be together."

She air kissed you both and left.

"La tenemos que hacer madrina." (We have yo make her the Godmother) Pedro laughs

"She already is."

"Puede mi hermano ser el padrino?" (Can my brother be the Godfather?)

You nod excited.

"You heard that, hermoso?" He says to the baby. "You have a Godfather now."

"Actually, he has two."

"Paulo?" He asks smiling.

"Yep, he'll fight me if I took him out of the list."

"It's okay, two is better than one."

"Let's go to my room" you say noticing how Polo is yawning. "Mister here needs to sleep."

"Can I stay?" He asks.

"Will you leave if I say no?"

"No"

"Okay, but yes you can stay."

"Pedro, I'm here." Fernando yells.

When Fer called Pedro to find out the details of the night. Pedro invited him over for lunch.

The idea was for him to know the truth and to meet Polo.

"Coming." He yells back.

You can tell he's nervous.

"Oye, cálmate, es tu hermano." (Hey, calm down, it's just just brother) you hug him. "Everything's going to be fine."

"Yes, just Fer."

"Do you want me to got say hi to him while you calm down?" You ask noticing the anxious body language he has.

"Can you?"

"Yep, so take a breath and you two can meet us downstairs."

You hand him the baby.

"Another thing," you say before leaving the room. "Polo will start fussing if he doesn't see me for a while, specifically since it's almost his feeding time. So you better hurry."

"Joder, me pones más nervioso." (Fuck, you're making me nervous)

"Bye." You say closing the door.

You walk downstairs, finding Fer looking at his phone uninterested.

He's sitting on the couch, his back to you.

You walk silently, wanting to scare him. Something you used to do to each other.

"It's not going to work." He says once you're close to him. Back still facing you "Your perfume gives you away."

"Ay, por favor."

He laughs and turns his face to you. You hurry to his side and hug him.

"Te extrañé como no tienes idea." He says kissing you cheek. (I missed you like crazy)

"I missed you too, Fer."

"So you two?" He asks raisins his eyebrows.

"We are working on it."

"Please do, he needs you."

"I need him too."

You can see Pedro walking to where you to are slowly.

"We have something to tell you."

"Fer." Pedro calls, his bother turn his head to him.

Fernando wants to ask, but he can't.

"Este es Polo." You say standing next to Pedro.

"He's our son."

Fer is trying to say something but he's short of words.

"I know, I just find out too." Pedro jokes. "Ven tio, you have to hold him."

Pedro handed the baby to a very shocked Fer. He's looking at the baby and back to his brother

"Why is he so fat?" He says in a judging tone.

You scuff and Pedro laugh.

"Excuse me, he's not fat." You say taking the baby from him. "He's well fed"

"He's fat," he corrects you. "He's like a brick. You fed him rocks or what?"

Pedro is laughing his ass out.

"Don't listen to your tío, mi amor." Pedro says once he stops laughing."The fat one is him."

"Tío Fer." Fernando says. "That actually sounds good."

"Right?" Pedro says,"yo dije lo mismo cuando Y/n le dijo que yo era su papi." (I said the same thing when y/n told him I was his daddy).

"Damelo, I need to hold him one more time."

"Don't judge him."

"You look like daddy." He says to Polo. "But you're lucky. You have some good genes from Mommy."

"Hey, that's mean."

"Shhh, I'm bonding over here."

You hug Pedro while Fernando is talking to Polo. Telling him all the things he can teach him.

"One down, we have two more." You say.

"Si me andaba cagando del miedo con mi hermano, no me imagino con mis padres." (If I was hyperventilating with my brother, I can't imagine with mom and dad)

"I still think you're just fat, but if your mother says you're "well fed", okay."

"Okay, give me my kid back."

You were currently at his parents' house in Tenerife. He wanted them to find out as soon as possible, so he suggested taking a quick flight back home.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" You ask before he exits the vehicle. "Y si hablas con ellos primero?" (What if you have a chat with them first?)

"No sé" (I don't know)

"Pepi, it's okay."

"But it's not. What if they get mad? What if they stop talking to me? What if we had to tell Polo his grandparents are far far away?"

"Pedro, your parents are not going to be mad at you." You stop his rambling. "If they get mad at someone that will be me."

"Why you?"

"Did you really just ask that?" Fer ask.

"Okay," he puts his hands in the air. "Well, we have to go now, you can't stay here alone."

"You didn't think this through, Huh."

"Well, in my opinion." Adrian, Pedro's cousin, "She can wait here while Fer and you talk with your parents."

"Fer as me?" He asks, confused. "Wait, I don't want them to yell at me."

"Well I don't want them to only yell at me."

"Nobody's yelling at you guys," Adrian yells.

"You are."

"Well because you're assholes."

"Hey don't call me that in front of my kid."

"Oh please, he will find out either way."

"Pedro, this is your mess. Go, be a man." Fernando points at him.

"But why can't you come with me?"

"Fernando, go with him."

"You go with him."

"Okay, that's enough." You yell. "Pedro, your parents are not yelling at you." You say, looking at him. "Fernando, don't be a bitch, Pedro face worse for you, and never complain." You point at him. "And Adrian, can you bring the air down? It's kind of cold."

"Jolin, si que eres una mamá." Fer laughs. (Fuck, you're such a mom) "but you're right, let's go Pepi."

Fer gets out of the car, opening Pedro's door for him to do the same.

"Deseame suerte, si?" He kisses your cheek quickly, getting out. (Wish me luck)

"No la necesitas, todo va a estar bien." (You don't need it. Everything's going to be fine.)

Fernando is about to knock on the door. Even when it's not him telling his parents they are grandparents, he's feeling the pressure of it.

"Fer, tenemos llaves." (Fer, we have the house keys)

"Las perdí." (I lost them)

"Eres un gilipollas, quítate." (You're such an idiot, move)

They walk in silence, finding both parents in the kitchen cooking.

"Mira quien llego," (look who's here) Fernando father says, "Come here."

They do their typical greeting, hugging each other, kiss here, kiss there.

Fer is looking at his brother, noticing how slow he is moving. He knows Pedro's scared, but making things slow is not the answer.

"Pedro necesita decirles algo," he announces. "Pueden apagar ahí y venir a la sala?" (Pedro has to tell you something, can you turn the stove off and take a sit?)

"Is this about Manchester?" Rosy asks

"Let's just take a sit."

They hurry to the living room. Expecting the news about his decision to transfer or stay.

"It's not about the transfer. Actually it's more important than that."

"Entonces dilo mijo, deja el misterio." (Then say it, stop with the mystery.)

"Are you okay?" Rosy ask him. "Sabes que puedes decirnos lo que sea, Pedro." (You know you can tell us everything, Pedro.)

"Like three days ago, Y/n and I reunite."

"That's amazing, Pedro, I knew you guys were finding each other again."

"Yeah, that's so good. Don't miss this opportunity."

"The thing here is." He cut them off. "Something happened in that time we were apart."

"Is she okay?" Rosy, ask.

"Yes, she is." He nods nervously.

He doesn't know how to explain the situation. Does he spit the news? Does he explain piece by piece?

"Before broking up, we weren't exactly being the most careful in the protection area of our life."

"Protection area? What?" His father asks confused. "Pedro, please go to the point."

"She was pregnant. We didn't know anything until now. She reached for me now that she's back in Barcelona. And our baby is six months old." He smiles.

Fer hides his face in his hands. He was more embarrassed than Pedro is for that lame explanation.

"You." Rosy points at him. "Have a baby?"

"Wait. Did you know she was pregnant when you broke up with her?" His father asks.

"No, God no. I didn't. We didn't."

"Were you with her after the breakup?"

"No, it's not that. We were together before the breakup, and well, that's how things happen. She finds out months later, but it's a lot to explain."

"What do you mean is a lot?"

"I think I'm lost."

While Pedro is trying to explain the situation and timeline to his parents, Fernando make his way out of the house.

"Hey, como estuvo?" (Hey, how was it?) Adrian asks when Fernando get back in the car.

"Pedro es un capullo de primera, te juro que el niño abre la boca y la caga cada vez más." (Pedro is such an asshole, I swear all he does is open his mouth to fuck this up)

"Is that bad?" You ask worried. "Are they mad?"

"No, they're not mad. They just don't understand the whole situation, thanks to Pedro being an idiot at explaining things out."

"Let's hope Polo doesn't get that from Pedro." Adrian laughs.

"Should I help him?"

"Nah, finish with the feeding, and then you can join him."

"I just can't believe he's a football player, does tons of interviews, goes to television shows, and can't even explain something to your parents."

"I know, he's like another dude in front of the cameras."

While they make small talk, you stay quiet, wondering if Rosy and Fernando would understand your reasons.

Even if you think that your motives were the right ones, you can't control what they think of that. Maybe they'll be mad that they choose to only engage with the baby and not with you.

You can't help but to worry. You love Pedro's parents like your own. They were so special to you. You can't deal with the idea of them not being in your life again.

"Y/n"

Fer shakes your knee to call your attention.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"You okay?"

Are you tho?

You can't even answer that to yourself.

In very little time, all these things are happening in your life.

Your parents lying to you, Pedro finding out, Fer finding out, Pedro's parents finding out and maybe not liking you anymore.

"Yes?" You say more as a question than as an answer.

"Hey Adri, give us a minute." He pats his cousin arm. "Please."

"I'm going to the store." Adrian says getting out of the car.

"A ver, no me mientas." (Look, don't lie to me) he turns his whole body to be able to see you. "I know you're worried about this whole thing. You did what you thought was the right choice. You fucked up, but so did my brother. No matter what, you are part of the family, apart from him or not, baby or not. Mom and dad loved you like their own child."

"What if they stop doing that?"

"They won't. If only you could have seen the way they got so excited about the idea of Pedro and you being together again."

"They did?"

"Yes, mom almost jumped of excitement." He laughs. "And they're going to be more happy to meet this little one right here. So shall we?"

"Yes, just give me a minute."

"Okay."

You fix your top, comb the little hair Polo has, and check if his diaper is clean.

"Let me help you, come here, gordo." Fer take Polo from your arms, holding a hand out for you to support yourself.

"I just know that nickname is not going away any time soon"

"Noup," he says, laughing. "After you"

You walk inside the house. You can hear Pedro and his parents talking. You stop abruptly, feeling dizzy from the emotions.

"Noup, sigue caminando." (Noup, keed walking) Fernando pushed you. Holding a hand on your back to move you. "Hey, someone's here to see you."

You can't help but blush. This is like the first time you met them. With the difference that now you were taking your son to meet them.

"Y/n, mija hola." Rosy says, hugging you. "No sabes como te extrañamos" (you have no idea how much we missed you)

"Yo los extrañé también." (I missed you too)

"Estas bien? Como te sientes?" (Are you okay? How are you feeling?)

"I'm fine, I'm good. Don't worry."

"You must be so tired, I'm sorry you had to go through all that alone. But we're here now, and we're going to help Pedro and you in everything we can."

"I'm sorry, I never meant to hide him from you guys, I was dumb and very immature."

"Don't say that, Pedro told us everything." Fernando says, "we're not mad, you did what you thought was right for you and your son."

"Thank you, for understanding."

Fernando and Rosy are both hugging you.

"Ey que corra el aire, venga." (Okay, let's separate) Fer says making all laugh.

"Mami, papi." Pedro call their attention. "This is Polo, he's our son."

"Pero mira que hermosura." (Oh, look how at this beauty) Rosy took the baby out of Pedro's arms. "Es igual a ti cuando eras pequeñito." (Just like you when you were a baby)

"Ven." He grabs your hand taking you to the kitchen.

Fernando, Rosy and Fer are focus on the baby, leaving the space for Pedro and you to be able to speak.

"We can breathe now." You laugh. "I was so scared."

"Thank God we got this over with. But I think you'll have to stay here, cause there's no way mom is letting him go. We lost him for the day."

"That's okay. I don't have any interest on keeping them apart."

"So you're staying here with me ?"

"What happened to going slow?"

"We have a kid together. Don't you think we left the slow out the door already?"

"Well if you put it like that."

You lock your arms behind his neck, pulling him close so you can kiss him. It's like time never happened, the feelings, the passion, the love still there.

"We can say you're here to stay." He jokes.

"And I don't plan on leaving."

"Not like I'm letting you, never again."

You stayed apart for a while. Letting his family enjoy the arrival of the new González member.

"Okay, enough you two." Fer says entering the kitchen. "Come here. You can appreciate each other later in a private room with the door locked. I can take care of fatty."

"I'll have to beat you if you keep calling him Fatty, gordo, etc"

"Deal with it. He loves it."

"Capullo" You say hitting the back of his head.

"A man can't lovely nickname his nephew now?"

"No" both Pedro and you answer.

"I hate you guys."

You find Rosy taking a picture of Fernando and Polo. Your heart is full with happiness.

"Our baby is going to be so spoiled and loved. I can't wait to see that." Pedro says hugging you from behind.

"I can't wait either."

"Fer, toma una foto de tu padre y yo con Polito." (Fer, take a picture of your father and I with polito). She hands the phone to her son. "Vente precioso." (Come here, baby.)

"Pero saca la sonrisa, mami." Pedro jokes. "Venga, más grande." (But smile, mom. C'mon, bigger than that)

"Done, I think I took like a thousand pictures."

"Exagerado."

"Not to be rude, but Y/n, honey. What are you feeding this kid with? He's so big."

"Ha! I told you, he's a fatty."

"So this picture or this one?" Pedro asks you, showing you the options.

"It's the same picture with a different filter."

"I know, I can't decide if I want b&w or Juno."

"Pedro." You laugh at him.

"I just want it to be perfect."

"Are you covering his face?"

"Yes, I know you don't mind if I don't, but I think for now it's the best."

"Okay, whatever you say."

"Hermoso, what picture are you feeling the most, this one or this one?"

Polo smiled at him, not even interested in the phone but on him instead. Pedro kiss his chubby cheek multipletimes.

He erupted in laughs at his father's actions.

"papa"

"Good choice."

"What? He didn't even look at the phone"

"Shhh, woman. This is between my son and I." He sticks his tongue out. "Don't worry Hermoso, she's just mad because you can't say mama."

You open your mouth, pretending to be shocked. "Yes, he can"

"So this one, right?" He asks Polo one more time, ignoring you.

"Can you just post the damn picture and hand me the kid?" Fer says, waiting for Pedro to let the baby go. "You say twenty minutes, and it's been an hour."

"Do you want me to make it two?"

He shakes his head quickly. "No, just post it, and give him to me."

" I can't believe that we took that picture five months ago." You say liking the post. "God, time flies."

"And now we're planning his first birthday party." Rosy says, handing you the pack of invitations. "He's getting too big."

"Petition for you and Pedro to give Fatty a sibling." Fer jokes.

"Excuse me, idiot." You laugh. "I think you're the one who should be giving my kid a cousin."

"I'm too young. Plus, fatty would be mad. He's the center of attention and won't accept any changes."

"Well, Polo has to accept that he's not having any play date friend in a while."

Fer and you continue throwing jokes at each other.

You can't complain about anything. Coming back to Barcelona, fixing your mistakes, and giving yourself a chance to be happy again was the right decision.

You have everything you ever dreamed about, a family with the man you love, a happy and healthy child. You won't change a thing.

Tag list:

@alwaysclassyeagle @footballerficsposts @gulphulp @cinderellawithashoe @jajajhaahaha @bellinghambby22 @pablogavisgirl @lunamelona @christinabae @103009 @pedrileclerc @pampeop @magicalfundragon @helanahaadock @eau-rougee @unstablefemme @lina1407 @percysley

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thefallennightmare · 1 year ago

Text

Miracle-three

(gif created by me, the fallen nightmare. feel free to use, simply give credit)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: I forgot how much I hate slow burns. So we'll see how long it lasts. Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13

A yawn fell from my lips as I snuggled deeper into the bed, a blanket wrapped around me like a cacoon to keep in the warmth. It was my first day off in four days and with the constant traveling; I was relishing being able to sleep in an actual bed. The bunks on the tour bus weren't terrible but with Bryan's snoring I was thankful for the quiet night of sleep ahead. The sun was setting, the orange glow painting over the walls of the room, and I only left the bed to go to the bathroom or grab my room service. The entire day was dreading tomorrow because that's when I had to send Lana her first paycheck and I was about three hundred dollars short.

My mom had been doing great, even remembering who I was when we talked on the phone. Something about hearing my voice but not seeing my face must have helped. It warmed my heart that we had conversations about things like we used too before she got sick.

I could explain to Lana the situation. I'm sure she would understand.

Somehow I doubted that which is why I was heavily researching my idea, wondering what the risks were and if the payout was worth it. Everyone online who had a page said they could pay for things they wouldn't have with a regular job. I would have my own rules and wouldn't worry about sharing it with a partner. I could post what I wanted whenever I wanted. The only risky thing would be someone recognizing me and with who I worked for, I wasn't completely sold on the idea yet.

"I don't have to show my face," I told myself as I sat up, deciding pretty hastily.

Desperation made people do drastic things and starting an Only Fans was my last resort; I had no other options.

The phone on my camera wouldn't do and I sucked in my bottom lip, wondering if what I was about to do was a good idea. I needed a better camera and set up while also having a credit card with a high enough limit, though it was for emergencies.

Isn't this one? Think of it as an investment.

Agreeing with the voice in my mind, I scrambled out of bed and quickly stepped into a pair of black sweats and hoodie to match. I cringed when I noticed myself in the mirror and made quick work to make myself look somewhat presentable.

The walk to the nearest store was only a few minutes, and I enjoyed the sounds of the hustle bustle of the city as people walked passed me, their own ideas for the night fueling them. I knew little about cameras and thought about asking Bryan some advice but knowing I might have to tell him why I needed one didn't sit well with me

As I was leaving the store, two bags in hand and $500 more in debt, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and when I read the message, I couldn't help but let out a groan.

Davis, yet again, was inviting me out to dinner tonight with him and the crew. I ignored his first two because I really had plans to lie in bed all day. Now, the only thing I wanted to do was get my profile set up and start posting so I could make money as soon as I could. Plus, Noah was avoiding me ever since the night of the first show when Jolly caught us together. Nothing happened but to Noah, it was as if they caught us fucking.

The thought caused a flush to creep to my cheeks as another text came in.

Davis: If money is an issue, it's on the crew tonight. The last few days have been crazy and we want a night out to relax.

It was true; every show this tour is sold out which made for a crazy night. Everyone in the band and crew were exhausted so a night out was something we all needed.

Me: I'm already out, where should I meet you guys?

Davis: there's this Mexican restaurant right around the block from the hotel. Meet in an hour?

Perfect amount of time to set up and record my first video. I never was a modest person, even if I never had a boyfriend. A few hookups here and there gave me some experience, but I also knew what my body liked, hence me bringing a few differnt kinds of toys with me. After the first tour, I realized how lonely I got out on the road.

I refused to prove Noah right I was only here to fuck someone; which was not true. But that didn't mean I couldn't think of a certain tattooed vocalist while I filmed, right?

An hour and fifteen minutes and red flushed cheeks later, I was practically running out of the hotel to make it in time to the restaurant. As usual, I was running late, but that was because it took me some time to figure out how to edit and post the video to my page. What I filmed wasn't exactly raunchy but just enough to keep people wanting to come back.

I was in a rush to get to the restaurant that I nearly missed the body that I collided in. Strong arms wrap around me to keep me steady as I looked up into those dark eyes that haunted me every second of every day. My heart fell deep into the pits of my stomach as embarrassment filled my veins, knowing that face was the reason for my orgasm less than an hour ago.

Noah gave me a look as slowly removed his arms from me, Jolly and Folio standing on either side of him.

"Where's the fire, angel?" He asked while drinking in the sight of me with a wide grin.

In my pussy.

He was wearing a grey sweater; the hood pulled up over his head and white hat. I cursed my vagina as it throbbed at the sight of him and my pet name.

"Uh, I was meeting Davis and others for dinner," I pointed behind me, stuttering over my words a bit.

Jolly smiled. "We're headed there too. Care if we walk with you?"

Him and Folio, not at all. Noah, yes I minded.

I didn't appreciate him acting different around me when we were alone as opposed to when people were around us.

"Nope," I smiled.

The four of us walked quietly to the restaurant with Folio next to me, Jolly and Noah behind us. Folio bumped his shoulder with me which made me peer up at him.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in a while. Outside of work," he said.

I gave a half shrug. "Just been keeping to myself the last few days."

"Does that have anything to do with," Folio threw a thumb over his shoulder towards Noah.

"No," I said a little too quickly, afraid as if he could see in my mind what I had been doing back in my room. "I forgot how busy life on the road is, that's all."

"What did he do to make you avoid him?" he asked, seeing right through my lie.

This caused Noah to step closer to the two of us, forcing his way between Folio and I.

"I didn't do anything," Noah defended.

My body was still buzzing post orgasm so having him this close to made my stomach flutter and head hazy.

"Right," I muttered under my breath and gave myself some space from him, allowing Jolly to take my spot next to Noah.

"Did we do anything to put you off?" Jolly asked.

I shook my head. "No, not at all. Everyone has been nice. I meant what I said, I've just been tired."

Noah peered over at me past Jolly, something unreadable on his face, but said nothing while we turned the block, the restaurant coming into view. Davis, Byran, Matt, and Nick Ruffilo were already seated at a table outside as we walked up. My phone buzzed in my pocket and as I saw yet another notification from Only Fans, I didn't realize that the only open seat was next to Noah.

Cursing under my breath, I sat tentatively next to him and pocketed my phone, not wanting him to peak over my shoulder and see the notification.

I had a few new subscribers which meant people were paying for my content. Maybe soon things will start picking up and I wouldn't have to worry as much.

The server came over to take our order and I frowned at Matt as he ordered a pitcher of beer for all of us to share.

"Can I have a water and four chicken tacos please?" I asked with a smile.

"You don't want a beer?" Matt asked.

I shook my head. "I don't drink; well much anyway. I do for special occasions but not really feeling like it right now."

Noah muttered something under his breath, and my eyes snapped over to him.

"Care to share what you mumbling under your breath?"

"You seemed pretty into it last tour in Chicago," he didn't bother to look away from his phone.

I stared at him with my jaw slack, upset for him bringing up that night but also amazed that he remembered that. With the way his jaw ticked and his hand gripped around his phone, it was clear he thought of that night often. I got drunk after a show because the guy I'd been talking to all night and flirting with was actually married. His wife was the reason why he was at the show in the first place but decided to hang out at the merch booth instead.

"Is that why you're such a dick to me?" I wondered.

Thankfully, the server had left, so they didn't have to watch us bicker but for the rest of the guys at the table, it didn't save them.

"You guys get drunk all the time. The one night I did, you hold it against me? For what?" I snapped.

I wasn't yelling but the table next to us spared us a few glances of concern.

"We don't need someone to carry us from the venue to the hotel, three blocks," Noah finally met my gaze.

I scoffed, completely baffled this was why he was such an asshole towards me. Because I got drunk last tour and he had to carry me back to the hotel?

"You're fucking unbelievable, Noah." I shook my head and turned away from him.

If I wasn't starving, I would head back to the hotel. But I already ordered and didn't want my food to go to waste.

Folio, who was sitting on my other side, looked at me with sympathetic eyes and gave my knee a squeeze underneath the table. The rest of dinner passed by with Noah and I not speaking another word to each other while the others chatted amongst themselves. I ate my food and sipped at my water in peace, checking my phone every now and then to see if Lana had texted me back. It was almost eight in the evening, and I debated on wondering if it was too late to call to talk to my mom when my phone rang.

Excusing myself from the table, I walked down the block to answer the call. It was a fast phone call, my mom being too exhausted to talk. Instead, I caught up with Lana.

"Alright, well let me know how she is in the morning. I'll be in the bus for half of the day so I can talk with her," I sighed.

"I will, dear. She's so exhausted from today. I looked through some photo albums with her to help her remember but nothing. There was nothing in her eyes."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded even though Lana couldn't see.

"Yeah, those vacant eyes. It's been happening a lot lately."

There was a lot of rustling on Lana's end before her soft voice came through. "I promise you. She's in good hands. When she remembers things, we have a lot in common."

That made me smile.

"Good. And I'll send you the first payment tomorrow," I said much to my dismay.

"No rush, dear."

We talked for a few more minutes before I hung up, suddenly exhausted and wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed for the rest of the night. When I returned to the table, I halted seeing that only Noah sat there. He heard me walk up and handed me my to go box of leftover food.

"The bill's been taking care of," he said.

I didn't meet his gaze, still upset with him, as I snatched the box out of his hand.

"Don't worry, I didn't flirt with anyone to get free food."

Noah sighed then pushed himself out of his chair, immediately towering over me.

"Do you always have to talk with such an attitude," he gritted out through clenched teeth.

I stood toe to toe with him. "Only for you, baby."

The pet name was supposed to come out as playful, no meaning behind it. But with the way Noah's eyes flashed and a low noise vibrated from his throat, I knew it had the opposite effect on him. His tongue rolled over his bottom lip and I wanted nothing more that to taste them.

"Can I walk you back to the hotel?" Noah asked.

Unbelievable.

"Oh, now that no one is around you act like you give a shit?" I snarled.

He raised his hands. "I'm trying to be nice, Y/N."

"Here's a piece of advice," I snatched my purse from the table, "If you want to be nice to me, stop doing it when we're alone. It makes me think you're embarrassed to be seen with me."

Noah's face fell and began shaking his head. "It's not that."

"Oh, right? It was because of that night in Chicago where you had to carry me back to the hotel. News flash, Noah. I didn't fucking ask you too. So do me a favor, unless it deals with work, don't talk to me the rest of the time were on tour."

Not bothering to listen to him come up with another excuse, I turned on my heels and stomped back towards the hotel.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #forced proximity #enemies to lovers #slow burn

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suzukiblu · 4 months ago

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WIP excerpt for 🦄; "tactile take it". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

He wants to say Tim’s name, but he doesn’t want Tim to hear someone else’s voice.

“Just like that,” Tim says, matter-of-fact but still approving, and Kon lets out another shaky breath. “Find your prostate for me, won’t you? I can’t do it myself like this." Kon bites back a strangled noise and–and–

Tim told him where to find it, before they did this. And with his TTK, when he concentrates right–well, there’s a lot he can feel with it. Generally he ignores his organs and whatever, just . . .

He’s pretty sure he knows where his prostate is, but he’s less sure how he’s supposed to, like . . . touch it, or . . .

He doesn’t know how to touch himself like this and if he asks Tim’ll hear the question in someone else’s voice and–

“Start slow,” Tim says, and Kon shudders in relief. “The feeling will build up. Just rub it a little for now, mm? Give yourself a little pressure.”

Kon swallows roughly, and tentatively unfurls just enough TTK to–do that, he guesses. He . . . rubs inside himself, up against the little–what is it, technically, like a gland or something? fuck if he even knows–the little whatever a prostate is, and . . . Tim’s right, yeah, as he keeps rubbing over and around it, it gets more sensitive and feels–feels–

It feels really good, Kon realizes a little dazedly, which is . . . which is weird, kind of. Opening himself up hasn’t felt good so far, just–overwhelming, he guesses. Overwhelming and so much and . . .

He rubs himself a little harder, testingly, and his cock twitches in response, swelling up harder.

And Tim smiles at it, not his face.

“Knew you’d like that,” Tim says, obviously pleased. “I’ve always wanted to introduce you to it.”

Kon flushes, biting the inside of his cheek roughly. Just–“always”?

How long is “always”?

“Sometimes when I’m having an annoying experience I calm myself down by thinking of things I want to do to you,” Tim mentions. It sounds like he’s recording notes for himself for a case file, even though he’s clearly talking to him. It makes Kon feel–weird, a little, the idea of being something that Tim would take notes on, or of being something he’d ever give half as much attention as he gives a case. “At the Wayne Foundation fundraiser last week I got so bored I spent the whole damn dinner pretending I had you under the table to keep my cock warm.”

Kon’s cock twitches much harder this time, and Tim’s smile widens a little.

“You like the talking too, don’t you,” he says. “That’s kinda sweet.”

Kon’s face burns, but Tim isn’t looking at his face anyway. He just–he tries not to squirm, and tries to keep his thighs spread and his hole spread, and . . . and just . . .

“You’re doing so good, Kon,” Tim says coaxingly, and Kon bites his lip at the sound of his name. “Especially for your first time. Don’t stop now. You can take a little more, right?”

Kon’s face burns.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #wip: tactile take it #🦄

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gxldenlush · 4 months ago

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Wedding date || c.s

Pairing: best friend!chris x fem!reader

Summary: y/n needs a date to her competitive sisters wedding.

Warnings: use of y/n, nickname (ma), random names for sister & her husband, slow burn (no development in this part)

A/n: gonna be a series so lmk if you want part 2. semi proofread😓

word count: 1840

Pink=y/n

Orange=chris

༻☙✽༺

“But I hate weddings! I doubt she even wants me there anyways” I’m currently pacing around my bedroom, protesting to my best friends reasoning as to why I should go to my sisters wedding next month.

“It might be fun, y/n. You might meet someone” Chris shrugs on his end of the already 3 hour long FaceTime.

“That’s the thing, I told her I had a boyfriend last month when she came over for dinner” I now regret this lie, but at the time I didn’t know that my sister would get married so quickly.

“Y/n, you are the most single person I know, and this is me talking! Why would you even tell her that you were dating someone?”

I instantly roll my eyes at the thought of my sisters competitive attitude. “You know what she’s like, Chris. She’s always trying to one-up me, i just told her about my new job and she instantly adds on that she got a promotion as though what I said meant nothing.” I stop my pacing and I throw myself backwards onto my bed with a groan.

“So you tried to one-up her?”

“No, she started talking about her boyfriend and how perfect he is, mom gave me that expectant look, you know the one? Her smile says “it’s okay” but her eyes say “if you say the opposite of what I want you to say, I wont talk to you for weeks”. I just cracked!”

“And now you have a non-existent boyfriend?”

“Yep” i sigh dramatically which pulls a laugh out of Chris. “So when she was on the phone talking about her wedding, she told me i could bring my boyfriend, I couldn’t say no!”

“Why didn’t you just say you broke up?”

“No way, that’s so much worse! Do you think Nick could pretend to be straight for one night?” I only half joke, genuinely willing to try anything.

Chris laughs loudly at my suggestion “Nick couldn’t even pretend to be straight when he thought he was straight! Look, how about this, if you can’t get a better solution by the week before your sisters wedding, I’ll go with you.”

I sit up and my eyes widen and shine with hope and gratitude as they look down at Chris on my screen.

“really? You’d do that for me?”

“Sure, why not.”

“That would be amazing, I’ll let you know, alright?”

Chris nods and changes the subject slightly.

“So, your sisters… fiancé… how long have they even been together?”

“Like six months? I don’t get it, honestly.I know the whole ‘when you know, you know’ stuff genuinely happens for some people but, I’d still want to be with them for much longer just in case, you know? Even if they propose at that time, I’d stay engaged for a while first.”

“Yeah, I agree. I feel like they probably don’t even know each other totally yet”

“Exactly!”

“Yeah, I think you have to know a girl for at least a year before knowing if she’s ’the one’, y’know?”

“I agree”

We’re silent for a few seconds before i mumble another comment. “He’s kind of creepy too, I do’t like him.”

“Creepy?” Chris’ tone has altered ever so slightly. Concerned. Protective.

“Yeah, he’s always staring, doesn’t understand personal space… he’s just strange”

“Does he make you uncomfortable?”

“A little bit, but I think that’s just because I don’t really know him.” I scoff. “My sister doesn’t even know him and she’s marrying him”

“If he ever does anything to you-”

“Which he wont”

“If he does… you’ll tell me. Right?”

“Of course I would.” He flashes me a smile.

“So anyway, did you figure out who ate your pop tarts?”

“I don’t know for sure but I’m fully convinced it was Matt”

We continue going through random conversational topics until we both fall asleep. A call that lasts about 5 hours? That’s normal for us, every single night that we aren’t seeing each other in person.

༄

“So, did you find a date for your sisters wedding?”

It’s a week before the wedding and I had no luck in finding a date. I shake my head as I hand him a Pepsi.

“Damn… so what colour tie should I wear?”

“You still want to be my date?”

“Sure, it’ll be fun. Besides, you can talk shit to me about your sister the whole time if you want” He smiles, knowing that sentence alone will convince me.

“Alright, but only if you’re okay with going?”

“Of course I am. One thing though”

“Yeah?”

“Your sister fucking hates me” he laughs

“Oh well” i shrug “Emma hates everyone that doesn’t love her as much as she loves herself. besides she’ll just have to deal with the fact that I love my totally real boyfriend”

“Awh, you love me?” He plays into the joke “damn, you’re saying it this quick? You’re turning into her”

“Woah, that’s not even funny!” I try to sound serious, but I can’t help but laugh.

“Wear your yellow tie, if you still have it, the one you wore for homecoming?”

“Yeah I’ve still got it, are you wearing yellow?”

I nod with a smirk “she hates yellow, and I look great in it”

“Ooh, we’re going bitchy for this wedding. I love it”

༄

“Hey, I’m here, are you almost ready?” Chris says over the phone as I finish up my hair in the mirror.

“Almost, just finishing my hair, just come up”

He hangs up the phone, I assume he’s walking into the house, I hear him walk up the stairs and lightly knock on my door.

“Come in” I turn to face the door, smoothing out my yellow dress as he opens the door.

When I take sight of Chris, my heart flutters. He looks so handsome. I can’t help but find hin attractive. I note that his eyes widen when he sees me.

“Holy shit, ma. You look gorgeous.” He sounds breathless, i think nothing of it, maybe he walked here.

“Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself” I smile as I make my way over to him, I raise his tie and put the end of it against my dress. “Perfect match”

“Like fate”

“Or destiny” we laugh.

“Alright, let’s get going. Mom and dad are already there with Emma.”

“Shall we, m’lady?” He holds his arm out for me to link to.

“We shall” I laugh as I take his arm.

༄

The reception was lovely, I have to say. It was an outdoor wedding in the middle of summer, the weather was perfect and so were the vows. I am now sat at a table with Chris to my right and my father on my left with my sister beside him, drinking champagne and finishing dessert.

“So, y/n, how long have you and Connor been together?” My sister pipes up, clearly getting Chris’ name wrong on purpose.

“His name is Chris.” I reply through gritted teeth

“Oh, right. Silly me”

I roll my eyes as I conjure up more lies “we’ve been dating for about two months now, but we’ve ben friends for years”

“Yup, loved her even then” Chris adds in, leaning closer to me, placing his hand on my thigh, an action that is only visible to me, which confuses me. I smile at him, he kisses my cheek as I struggle to control my blush. What is happening to me?

Once we’ve finished dessert and our glasses of champagne, music starts to play, my sister and her new husband are called up by the DJ to begin their first dance. Everyone gathers around the dance floor to watch and record their first dance as a married couple. When I hear the song that’s playing, I scoff, shake my head and go sit down. Chris follows after me.

“Hey, don’t you wanna watch them dance?”

“No” I reply, sulking.

“What’s wrong?” He sits sideways in the chair next to me to face me, he takes my hands in his, seeing that I’m clearly upset.

“When we were kids, we used to watch Princess and the Frog, this song is from that movie. I told Emma that when I got married, this would be my first dance song.” I explain as an extended version of ‘Ma Belle Evangeline’ plays.

“Well, you can still dance to it now?”

“But-”

“Nope. No buts. When the DJ calls more people over to dance, we will dance too. Me and you.” He stand up and holds his hand out for me to take. “And we’ll dance a damn site better than them” he smirks.

“Now let’s get the bride and grooms parents and siblings up.”

I sigh and take Chris’ hand, he leads me to the dance floor and we start to slowly sway to the music, my arms around his neck and his hands on my waist.

And I love you, Evangeline…

I recognise his cheeky smile and I laugh as he takes my hand and starts to spin me around, we sway again, smiling and only looking at each other. Just as the song is ending, Chris dips me, like in the movie that I have also watched with him over the years. He slowly pulls me back up to stand when the song ands and everyone applauds. A huge mile on my face.

“Thank you”

“Anything for you, y/n” he smiles back at me, there’s a hint of something else in his eyes that I can’t quite place, all i know is that it’s something good.

The night goes well, apart from a few comments back and forth between my sister and I. We all laugh and dance and drink. That last one bars Chris, he doesn’t drink alcohol, even after Emmas new husbands many attempts to coax him into drinking something.

I ended up having to snap at him, which pissed off my sister to no end. “James! He said no!”. Emma didn’t speak to me after that.

“I’m just going to the bathroom, you gonna be alright alone?” I mumble to Chris as i pick up my handbag and stand up.

“Yeah sure, I’ll just talk to to your dad” He smiles up at me, I ruffle his hair to which he slaps my hand away making me laugh

“Wont be long” I make my way to the bathroom, leaving the large marquee and going into the main building behind it.

Walking down the hallway, I hear my name being called.

“Y/n!”

When I turn around im surprised by who meets my gaze

To be continued…

———

@mattscoquette

#gxldenlushꨄ #lush fics♡︎#writing #chris sturniolo fic #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 7 months ago

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I Cherish You, Halcyon Days: vi

“You’re gonna die, kid. In the worst way possible.”

tags: afab!reader (she/her), angst, slow burn

pairing: gojou x reader + onesided!getou x reader

summary: You’re 15 years old when you’re told you’re going to die. You’re 17 years old when you realize who your killer will be. And you’re 17 years old when you make peace with the fact you wouldn’t want it any other way.

index | previous chapter | next chapter

"Need a pick me up?"

You open your eyes to see the youngest of your grade holding a cold bottle of green tea. "Oh, thanks," you grab the cool bottle from Suguru's hands gratefully. You had been sitting in the living room area on the couch when you started drifting off. Staying up for hours the past couple nights training with Gojou is a draining experience.

"It's not coffee but it has caffeine in it," he takes a seat next you, nestling against the arm on the opposite end of the couch. "Did you have trouble sleeping? When I got up to get water, it smelled like someone had been cooking. Was that you?"

Guilty as charged, you deny nothing. "Was up late bullshittin' and decided to chef it up in the kitchen," you shrug nonchalantly.

Your little training sessions with Gojou always go on longer than you originally planned. He's surprisingly strict and persistent nor does he really hold back with any comments on what you're doing wrong, but they're all fair assessments. So just as you did the first night this began, you cooked you both a late night dinner before skipping off to bed.

"Did you meet that Naoya guy, by the way?" The way Suguru's face twists into an annoyed grimace is enough of answer. I'm already coming up with comebacks for the next time I see him, I wasn't fully prepared the last time. "Yeah, can't believe Gojou wasn't just being overdramatic for once. Please kick that guy's ass if you get paired up in the individual battles." You wonder how it will go since there's an uneven number of combatants. Will it be 1v1 fights split between four of them or will it be an all out jumping with every Kyoto student fighting Suguru and Gojou all at once? You suppose you'll find out in a couple days. "Our legacy is on the line!"

The curse user chuckles, "I'll be sure to defend it fiercely," he vows poshly, bowing with a hand over his heart. "Should I fail, I'll gladly banish myself from your sight for all time."

Giggles slip from your lips with ease. Serious as Suguru looks, he's quite playful. It was something you appreciated during your first days at Jujutsu Tech when you came in a month later than the other first years.

Utahime was a doting senpai, Shoko was kind but respectful, Gojou was annoying and Suguru was helpful with an air of spiritedness. He didn't come at you with wave after wave of prodding questions about where you came from, why you were in Japan or even jokes about your technique the way Gojou did. Yet he was more forward than Shoko who was more content to let you do the reaching. Your transition into being integrated into the already established friend group in a way was thanks to Suguru. You were more grateful than you'd ever reveal.

"You know, if being a sorcerer doesn't work out for you, you should really consider a career in acting." Suguru only snorts at your comment. "I'm serious! I can see you reciting Shakespeare as we speak!"

Suguru rolls his eyes but it's good-natured, "as if a sorcerer would be satisfied in a normal career."

"You never know," you lean against the arm of the couch you're on with a grin. "Having backups might be a good idea! You just don't wanna admit I'm right that you have a flair for theatrics."

One of Suguru's eyebrows raises inquisitively, "what are your plans? After we graduate, I mean," he clarifies as quickly as he asks. "Even before you came to this school, I'm sure that's something you had to think about. Were you planning to go back to your home country after graduation?"

Your eyes dart to the corner of the room and you press your lips together, shoulders stiffening ever-so-slightly. You hope it isn't noticeable but perceptive as Suguru is, you know he can tell. "That's," you think of your mother and father and your uneasy upbringing. How your relationship improved after you moved out the house. It isn't like there'd be much of a problem now that I know what curses are. And even by the time I got to middle school, I got better at ignoring them. It would be different if you moved back in with them. "Something I'm still figuring out, I guess."

It isn't as if you never thought of your future. You knew inevitably that it was something you'd have to cross. You suppose you were just hoping to leave that problem for the [First] of the future to deal with. "I'm not really opposed to staying a sorcerer," you continue truthfully. "But I'm not really sure how the jujutsu scene works in my country. We probably don't have an organized force of jujutsu sorcerers like Japan, maybe I could start one."

Suguru mulls over his next question thoughtfully as if he is unsure he even wants to ask. "Why did you come to Japan, if you don't mind me asking."

You mull over if that's something you want to answer yourself, "well-"

"What are you two talking about over here?" Saved by a bell cosplaying as a lanky, nearly 190 cm teenager with white hair who wears sunglasses indoors. Gojou yawns as he approaches the couch you and Suguru are sitting on, he reaches a hand out almost expectantly to your green tea. You open the bottle, taking another swig before you hand it over before Gojou takes a large gulp himself. One that is literally more than half of the bottle.

"Most of that is mine, Gojou," you remind him a sharp look but there's no real bark or bite in your words, you're too tired.

Gojou shrugs, lips still resting on the neck and finish of the bottle, "I'll get you another one," he mumbles nearly incoherently, drinking the rest without a care in the world.

He's lucky you're more amenable to his morning shenanigans because he's been helping you the past couple nights. "Whatever, just put it in the fridge after you buy it."

"Looks like I jinxed you after all," Suguru chuckles to your right and you groan because he's probably right.

"I'm fighting your jinx with all my might," you mutter back. Apparently, once indulging Gojou becomes habit, it's hard to stop. Or is it a bit much to say you indulge Gojou if the most you really do is share food and drink? You're too tired to consider the nuances in this particular moment.

"What jinx?" Gojou cocks his head to the side.

"Nothing," you yawn again. "It's the nunya jinx where if Gojou asks too many questions, I stop sharing all my snacks with him." It's satisfying to see how both boy looks at you in confusion when you speak in your native tongue. As much of a disadvantage you were put in when you first came to Japan because of it, it's become a nice little source of privacy among your peers that don't know the language. A pocket of something you can keep to yourself. "Anyway, it's just a little inside joke between the non-sorcerer family hailing kids on the block," you wink at Suguru and he closes his eyes with a small smile.

The still-cold bottom of what was once your green tea is placed against your forehead in retribution.

Maybe you won't cook for Gojou tonight.

ー

[Today, 14:43]

Shoko: The Kyoto Tech kids passed us up heading to the training area. Naoya is with them. Have fun with that www.

Me: ^o^ don't worry I won't~

It's a day before the Sister Exchange event truly begins when you see the Kyoto Tech students again.

There's only one training outdoor training facility at this school and so, if you all happen to use it at the same time, there isn't much that can be done about it.

You can see why Utahime listed Kamo Ririka as a person of interest, she's gorgeous. You pointedly ignore your friend sputtering that is not why Ririka had been mentioned in favor of focusing on her pastel pink hair. "I only mentioned her at all because you wanted to know about the Kamo students at Kyoto Tech!"

She whispers furiously in your ear, you personally think the dust of pink on Utahime's cheeks still lean favorably towards your theory. Me thinks the lady doth protest too much, you puff your cheeks in coyly. That only serves to make Utahime press her fingers against them to release the air stored in them. "Also, the person you mentioned before with the green streak in his hair," you spot the very lad yourself. "That's Kumatetsu, he's a second year like you."

"Thank you, Utahime, I appreciate your knowledge."

"I could have told you that," Gojou shrugs.

Your side eye is directs to the boy as quick as ever, "you said you didn't even talk to these guys much last year, how am I supposed to know what you know?"

Four of your seven peers are absent from this coincidental gathering. Haibara and Nanami are on some sort of spur of the moment mission and will be back later in the evening. Shoko and Suguru went on a quest to get drinks from the vending machine. As for Mei Mei, she didn't care for training for an event she wouldn't be part of.

Gojou sticks his tongue at you and you return the favor. "Naoya, looking horrid as ever, I see," Gojou waves at the first year with so much mock enthusiasm, you might have thought he was being genuine when he sauntered over to the Zenin. "I'm not good at holding back so if you go home now, I promise to be nice the next time I see you."

Utahime scowls, "Gojou, they just got here-"

"Eager for my attention I see," Utahime's attempt to stop feathers from being ruffled is futile as Naoya welcomes the jabs with his own. As far as you're concerned, Gojou can rile the Zenin boy up all he wants. "Had I known that, I would have done my best to say hi the other day if I hadn't been interrupted."

You snort as you thumb out a text to Shoko that the Kyoto students have arrived. That she and Suguru should probably prepare for the training grounds to be in shambles when they return. And that if a fight starts between Gojou and the mustard-haired first year, you won't be stopping it.

Me: Hell I'll jump in and help!

Shoko: Getou says he would you not get into a fight but if you do, punch Naoya for him if he doesn't make it back in time.

"Even Icarus had to learn a lesson about flying too close to the sun. I look forward to the day the Six Eyes is humbled and brought back down to earth with the rest of us," you thumb halts over your keyboard, glancing at where Gojou and Naoya presently stand. It irks you at how easily Naoya says it, clearly accustomed to using it. "Hopefully it'll be me. But honestly, why wait for tomorrow when we can see what happens today, Si-"

"He has a name," you close your silver Nokia flip, slipping it into your pocket. You feel the buzz of a message coming through but you choose to ignore it in favor scratching the dark irritating itch growing in your stomach.

"Excuse me?" Two heads look at you at your interjection. Naoya who looks at you like you're an insect large enough to garner attention, and Gojou who tilts his head at you curiously.

"A name," you repeat yourself, setting a hand on your hip as you glare back into amber eyes. They just barely look at you with anything other than cold indifference. "Gojou has one. I call you Whiney the Poo and Bitch Baby in my head all the time and I still manage to call you Zenin Naoya out loud so stop calling him that."

"And what happens if I keep doing it in, senpai?" Never before have you wanted to punch someone this badly. Never and you live with Gojou Satoru, the menace of Tokyo's Jujutsu Tech.

"You wanna say the shit again and find out?" Matter of fact, you want Naoya to say it. You take a step forward, all too eager to put the arrogant first year in his place. "You know what, go ahead. Make my day. Say the shit again and see what happens to your ass."

"Okay," Utahime's hand grips your shoulder tightly before you can take another step. "I think we should just train on that side of the training grounds," she points feverishly to the opposite side of the track field that is considerably further than where the Kyoto students have settled.

The Kyoto second year from the other day ー Kumatetsu, if you remember correctly ー places his own arm in front of the aggravating first year. Pretty third year Ririka sighs in equal parts, dark green eyes darkening as she watches the scene unfolding in front of her. "Yeah, that would be nice, there's just so much space here to train," he agrees with Utahime with swift ease. "Why just bundle up in one little corner here, right?"

"Nah, he can move if he wants to though," you snap in Naoya's direction, nodding your chin to where Utahime's finger leads. "Take your first year before I embarrass his ass in front of everybody."

"No no, there doesn't need to be any fighting," Kumatetsu replies with a frantic but annoyed smiled. "We don't want any problems, we're all allies here. We don't want to fight." As if sensing the mustard-haired first year was about to open his mouth and deny that claim, Kumatetsu covers it with without even blinking. "Ignore him, he doesn't want to fight."

"Yeah, I wouldn't wanna fight me either," you roll your eyes. When you see that particular comment grinds Naoya's gears more than anything, you decide to give yourself the win. Bitch Baby 0, [First] 1, you nod to yourself as Naoya is unceremoniously dragged to the rest of his Kyoto peers in a tight headlock away from you and infinitely further from your tallest classmate.

You tap Utahime's hand lightly. "It's fine, I'm not gonna run over and drop kick him if you let me go." Utahime doesn't look like she entirely believes you and you can't really blame her in this moment. You don't think you've ever been that mad before, not in front of these particular classmates at least. When was the last time I got like this actually, you struggle to sort your thoughts as you try to calm yourself down. Right, right, that time with Takuya and his hair.

Takuya, your old crush from your first and second years of middle school. A core member of your friend group with Chinatsu and Tooru until he moved away after the end of second year. I wonder how he's doing, we haven't heard from him in forever. He was a kind boy, a real sweetheart, that's why you liked him so much. His eyes were as black as the night but your favorite thing about him was his hair. You became friends because of it, actually. His dark red hair was long and almost always kept in a braid.

Then some asshole tried cutting it. That was the first and only school brawl you got into in your entire life, skirt on and all. Thank you, Auntie Chiharu, for not grounding me for punching that guy first.

To think the next time you'd get so angry would be for Gojou's sake.

What has this world come to?

"We're going this way," Utahime tells you firmly, upperclassman voice front and center.

"Fine," you sigh. This motherfucker pissing me off, you glare in Naoya's direction one more time. I haven't cussed like this since my Sakuragi Middle days. Your eyes catch Gojou's shades before you turn, his expression unreadable. Partially because half of his face is obscured, partially because the bottom half of his face gives no clues as to what he might be thinking.

Ugh, he has me over here defending Gojou of all people. This might be more unforgivable than Naoya's presence being generally unpleasant. Your glare narrows with a click of your tongue but you smooth out your face since Gojou is who you're looking at. It isn't like Gojou is the one you're mad at. The same rules from before applies. No one messes with one of us except for us. And even then, there are lines that shouldn't be crossed. You turn to follow Utahime begrudgingly to where she is briskly walking to. When you feel the unmistakable shape of an arm draping across your shoulders, you groan, "Gojou don't start."

Unfortunately, the menace of your class is already snickering much to your chagrin. "Oh [First], you do care!" Gojou swoons, leaning against you as if he's a damsel. "I wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see it myself!"

"I did not do that because I like you," you deny uselessly, knowing it won't matter what you say. "We just have a temporary We Hate Gojou Alliance truce going on right now. The We Hate Zenin Naoya Alliance takes precedence over any of your shenanigans during this time period." Utahime doesn't argue against it, so perhaps there really is a truce going on with Gojou.

"You know, the more you say that, the more I'm convinced that you're secretly the president of my fan club," Gojou all but beams. Maybe it's you but he seems slightly more obnoxious than normal and you decide that's likely a good thing in this particular instance. "You can be honest."

You huff but you don't move to immediately shove his heavy ass off of you. He didn't look like he was particularly bothered by Naoya's nasty comments, but you didn't want to assume when you spoke up. Well as long as he's in a good mood, I guess that's all that matters. "Yeah, yeah, you caught me," you decide to indulge the boy only two days older than you. "Number 1 Gojou Satoru fan right here, don't tell Utahime."

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Extra

Here you go, chapter 6 prime for the reading and a day away from the Sister Exchange Event taking place. Y'all are getting this a day early because I have something to do all day this Friday and I'm not sure if I'd be able to get up then at a proper time.

Anyways, Reader is appalled. Naoya's got you out here defending Gojou's honor and shit, you need to rethink your priorities in life. But at least you can confidently say that you'll call Naoya out on his shit whenever the opportunity presents itself time and time again. Turn us up, Whiney the Poo.

See y'all next week.

Likes and Reblogs appreciated.

#look she's writing #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x you #geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto x you #getou x you #i cherish you halcyon days

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sixpennydame · 10 months ago

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North Star ✶ Chapter 10

A Levi Ackerman x oc slow burn

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Just one kiss, can change everything between you and Levi.

My dearest Martin,

Remember when we were small, and I’d follow you around everywhere? I used to trail behind you like a lost puppy, but you never scolded me. You’d just smile, take my hand, and lead me to wherever you were going.

Throughout my whole life, whenever I reached out my hand, you were there.

These past three years, I wondered how I could go on without you, knowing that when I reached out, you wouldn’t be there. The world felt colder, and I felt so alone.

But you told me I have more to do, more life to live, so I’m going to do that. This past year, I’ve learned that I’m not alone and that I’m stronger than I thought.

Thank you for always having faith in me, when I didn’t have faith in myself.

I’ll see you again, in another time, another place.

Love,

Catherine

——- ✶ ——-

Your hand was warm in his, your lips even warmer as you kissed one cheek, then the other. Levi thought his heart would jump out of his chest, it was pounding so furiously. He’d looked at your face hundreds of times in the last several months, but right now, with the light of the early dawn on your face, he thought it was the most beautiful he’d ever seen you. His eyes glance down at your lips - he wants to feel them on his skin again, he yearns for it.

You don’t move. He doesn’t either. The most he can manage is a light caress of your face, but it’s not enough. There’s an energy between your two bodies, urging him to move closer, to press his lips against yours.

All he has to do is move.

His head inches forward. First, a brush of his nose against yours, but then he tilts slightly and he’s kissing you like you are the most delicate porcelain.

And you don’t back away, you simply lean in, your other hand moving up to press lightly against his chest. His free hand moves to your waist; he wants so badly to pull you against him, to kiss every inch of you.

When your lips finally separate, he doesn’t know if seconds or minutes have passed.

It’s the sharp pain shooting through his knee that pulls him back to reality. He blinks once, then twice, and sees you there, in front of him, your eyes flitting open.

What have I done?

“Levi..” Your voice is soft. Sweet. But the way his name hangs in the air, he’s not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse.

Say something, you idiot.

His head is spinning, his heart pumping. He needs to take a step back and reevaluate what is happening here. Afraid of what you might say next, he speaks.

“I…”

I think I’m in love with you.

I have never felt this way before.

I need to know if you feel the same way.

“...I should go check on the horses. Who knows if Mathieu is even sober enough to do it.” He backs away from you. “And you should get some rest.”

He walks to the washroom and while splashing his face with cold water, he hears the door to your room click shut. Maybe it’s the cold, but his knee has been bothering him more lately; it probably didn’t help that he was on his feet practically all night. Wiping his face with a towel, he looks at himself in the mirror; the deep scars running down his cheek, his useless and clouded eye. And then there are the scars not visible on the surface, the feelings of loss and pain. His body and heart have paid the price for his sacrifice, broken in so many ways beyond repair.

He touches the jagged, uneven scar on his lips and wonders why you’d returned his kiss. Maybe you felt sorry for him. Maybe you saw it as an obligation, after all he’s done.

Because really, who would want someone so broken?

——- ✶ ——-

Your lips are still warm and tingly from the kiss as you fall onto your bed, your mind ablaze with thoughts that you know will make it impossible to go to sleep. There’s a door in your room that leads to the washroom and you can hear him there, just on the other side of the wall.

What would happen if you just opened it and told him how you felt? That slowly throughout the months, your feelings of friendship have turned into something more. Something that you haven’t felt in years, and you can’t imagine feeling with anyone else but him.

Is this love?

It’s a strange sensation, opening your heart to another; there’s a tinge of guilt there as you think of Martin. He told you to love again, but this…

…is that what this is?

It’s almost too terrifying to think about. Martin was the first and only person you’d ever loved, and it had never even crossed your mind that you could care for someone else to the same degree, much less fall in love again.

You laugh. Listen to yourself - it was just an innocent kiss, probably nothing more.

But oh, how wonderful it was. Slow and soft, and when his hand went to your waist you’d wanted him to pull you in tighter. You’d leaned in, lips slightly parted, inviting his tongue to mingle with yours. Why did he pull away? And if he hadn’t, what might have happened next?

A heavy sigh escapes your mouth. You feel like a schoolgirl again with a first crush. Everything feels newer, brighter.

There’s a shuffling and then you hear the door open and close, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he walks to his bedroom. There’s still time to tell him how you feel.

Your feet pad silently down the hallway as you stand in front of his bedroom door. You take a deep breath and just as you raise your fist to knock -

– There’s a loud, abrupt pounding on the front door.

You rush to the door and Annika stands before you, hair disheveled and makeup smudged from a night of holiday revelry. But you can tell from the look in her eyes that she’s not here to drunkenly wish a Happy New Year.

“Annika, is something the matter?”

“Is Levi here?”

Levi joins the two of you in the entryway, limping slightly. You both look down to see that he’s wearing a brace of some kind around his knee. The thick material wraps around his leg, held together by leather laces.

Annika frowns. “What’s going on there?”

“An old war injury. When it gets bad, I put this on.”

“You should let me check it.” Annika moves towards him curiously.

“No thanks,” he counters, then rushes to take the focus off of him. “What did you need me for?”

Annika’s face turns from curiosity over Levi’s leg to worry.

“It’s Mathieu.”

——- ✶ ——-

“Dumbass…” Levi says, arms crossed.

Looking down at Mathieu, sprawled out on a sofa in Annika’s family home, you’re prone to agree with Levi. “How exactly did this happen?”

“Well, Oleg said he could race me down to the town square. Perhaps I’d had too much to drink…I slipped and fell forward…”

He lifts up his two bandaged arms, both in makeshift slings.

“...and he broke both of his elbows,” Annika cuts in. “He’ll be unable to use his arms for at least six weeks.”

Levi pinches the bridge of his nose. “Six weeks…I suppose that puts me in charge of the stables for the time being.”

“Or longer,” Annika interjects again. “It really depends on how quickly he heals. And he’ll need help with other things, like getting dressed, cooking..” she looks away to keep from laughing at the whole ridiculous situation, “...relieving himself.”

Mathieu has no immediate family, no next of kin, no one to help him through this time. But Mursa’s a tight-knit community and people look out for each other; you’d be happy to help him out.

“Why don’t you come live at my place for a while?” you ask. “I have an extra room, and then I can help with whatever you need.”

“And leave the stables? The horses? My home?” Mathieu’s face becomes defiant; you imagine he’d cross his arms in frustration, if he could.

Annika rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so stubborn. You can’t be by yourself.”

“I’ll look after him,” Levi says as he helps Mathieu off the sofa. “Let’s just get you back to your place and we can figure the rest out.”

It’s a realization that you’ve slowly come to these past few months: that beneath his harsh words and intense scowls, Levi is incredibly caring. It’s not necessarily something he tries to hide, but it’s also not apparent to all. It’s a special part of his character that you really love about him.

Love…that word is becoming easily relatable to Levi these days.

“I can come and help out too.” You get on the other side of Mathieu.

“I’m perfectly capable of walking, thank you very much,” he huffs, shaking you both off of him. A bit of a loner, Mathieu’s a man who’s prided himself on his strength and independence. A bit headstrong too. You wonder if that’s why he had Annika bring Levi over. The two men are truly one of a kind.

Mathieu looks at the brace on Levi’s leg and his heavy limp. “Look at us – like the blind leading the blind.” He laughs.

“Don’t test me, old man,” Levi warns, “you don’t need any more broken bones.”

——- ✶ ——-

By the time you and Levi get Mathieu back to his home, the morning sun had moved over the mountains and was now shining brightly over the valley. The old, creaky home is cold and quiet, and you get a fire going while Levi helps the old man out of his clothes.

“Oi, did you bathe in alcohol all night? You reek.” You can hear Levi’s voice from down the hall.

“I guess you’re gonna have to help me bathe then, Nurse Levi.” Mathieu cackles.

It makes you laugh too, listening to them bicker. “You two argue like an old married couple,” you yell their way.

“Ow! Be gentle!” Mathieu whines. “Married? If this is your tender touch, Levi, then I pity any woman you ever marry.”

You’ve felt Levi’s touch, and it is tender. You can still feel his calloused fingers running across your jaw, lifting your lips to his. You wonder what it would feel like for him to take your clothes off, to run his hands over your body as you lay in a bathtub.

“Just stop talking and get in the damn bathtub! Keep your arms above the water!” Levi’s tone is strict, but you can hear the care in his voice, as if he’s reprimanding a child.

Even his stern voice is turning you on right now.

Catherine, pull yourself together!

It seems that one little kiss has set your mind and heart ablaze. You wonder if Levi feels the same.

There’s no knowing until you get a free moment to talk to him.

You busy yourself with making breakfast while Levi bathes Matheiu and helps him get dressed, desperate to do anything to get your mind off the kiss. Yet, as the three of you eat, Levi barely looks at you. In fact, he’s barely acknowledged you at all this whole morning.

Once Matheiu is in his bed, Levi helps you with washing dishes, still in awkward silence.

“I better get out to the stables. There’s lots to do now,” he says on his way out of the kitchen.

“Let me help you.”

“No. I don’t want you exhausting yourself. You’ve worked too hard to recover this past week, and I don’t want you getting sick again. Go get some rest.”

There’s that stern but caring voice, now directed at you. You know there’s no arguing with him once he has that tone.

“Alright, but can we talk later?” You attempt to keep your voice cool and neutral, but there’s no hiding the expectation in your eyes.

He looks over his shoulder at you. “Sure. Later,” then turns to leave.

——- ✶ ——-

Levi knows exactly what you want to talk about. He could see it in your eyes all morning. But these romantic feelings - the whole situation - is such foreign territory to him. Not that he hadn’t had experiences with women before; there’d been stolen kisses in dark alleys in The Underground, and desperate make-out sessions before a mission, just to feel alive. But this was different with you. It was the first time in his life that he wanted more.

He hadn’t thought any of this through clearly yet; kissing you wasn’t exactly in the plans, and yet..

And yet, it had felt so right at the time, he can’t deny that.

It also felt selfish. He doesn’t deserve you.

You deserve someone who can make you truly happy, who can protect and take care of you. At his age and with his injuries, it’s more likely that you’d be taking care of him.

The pain shooting through his leg reminds him of his inadequacies as he puts clean hay in the horses’ troughs. It’s a constant reminder of the strength he once had, now long gone.

And he’s made peace with that. He knows he’s not Humanity’s Strongest anymore - he doesn’t want to be. But who is he now? And when you look at him, what do you see?

Probably just some pathetic, old soldier, he thinks. And you’re so beautiful, and young, with so much more life to live.

Demon whinnies at Levi, breaking him away from his thoughts. “Feeling restless too, are you?” he asks, petting Demon along the bridge of his nose. “What do you say we burn some frustrated energy in the indoor arena?”

Levi harnesses Demon and gets on his back, careful not to put too much pressure on his knee. He can feel Demon’s need to zip through the snow and across the frozen meadow, but his firm grip on the reins keeps the spirited stallion in control.

The indoor arena wasn’t far from the stables and was a considerable size - perfect for keeping the horses healthy and energized during the long, snowy winter. Mathieu was once one of the best racehorse breeders and trainers in Southern Marley, as he often bragged to Levi, and it was his dream to have his sons take over the business someday. But when his sons were conscripted in the Marleyan army to fight in one of the many battles against the Mid-East Allied Forces years ago, they never returned. Still, he kept the training facilities clean and ready, as if he was prepared for them to return at any moment.

That refusal to let his grief overtake him, even in the most difficult of circumstances, was something Levi respected in Mathieu.

He and Demon start at a slow walk, working in and around some barrels placed in various parts of the barn. They weave in and out, Demon snorting impatiently.

“I know, but let’s get warmed up first.” Levi says to Demon as they go into a trot, then finally, a canter.

The arena is big enough for Levi to run Demon at a full gallop, and soon they’re racing around the perimeter. The cold air whips at Levi’s face, waking him up and making him more alert. He empties his mind and lets his body work with Demon’s; he’s ridden him long enough that it seems they both read each other’s minds, each muscle twitch a tell-tale sign of what the other is thinking.

Riding horses is one of the few times Levi feels whole again, the adrenaline coursing through his body as he works purely on instinct with the animal. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel like he’s flying through the air with ODM gear again.

Energy sufficiently spent, Demon slows to a prance as horse and rider return to the stable. The other horses neigh, anxious for their turn. “Ok, ok, you’ll all get a chance,” Levi concedes, unsaddling Demon.

When Levi returns to the house, he finds Mathieu up and sitting in front of the large picture window overlooking the stables. “You should be resting, old man.”

“This is resting, and it is driving me crazy,” Mathieu whines. “It’s gonna be a long two months.

“For you and me both.” Levi warms his hands by the fire, the flames’ illumination showing a deep contentment on his face.

“You didn’t have to ride every horse today, you know,” Mathieu says.

“I know that. But I enjoyed it, and they all needed to stretch their legs.”

“Speaking of legs…” Mathieur looks at the brace on Levi’s knee, “...you gonna be ok?”

“I’m fine. Or as fine as I’m ever gonna be.”

“And you can ride with that brace on?”

“Yeah, it’s not too big a deal. And it’s not like I need it all the time.”

Suddenly there’s a spark in Mathieu’s eyes. He leans forward. “Have you given any more thought to letting me train you and Demon for racing?” Levi is silent, contemplative. “I’ll make a deal with you: I’m obviously going to need someone here with me ‘round the clock while I’m,” he looks down at his arms, “incapacitated. If you’ll stay here and help me out, I’ll provide you a room, training, and even sponsor and pay for your first race.” Levi still doesn’t say a word, just crosses his arms and looks at the man across from him. “Come on…that’s a pretty good deal,” Mathieu smiles, “and I know how much you love riding.”

The fire crackles as Levi thinks on it. Mathieu does need constant care right now and he would be here practically all the time anyway. But to be away from you..

Maybe that’s what’s needed right now, though; some time for him to step away and let things cool off. Without him constantly there and bothering you, you’ll see that the kiss was all a mistake, if you didn’t see it that way already. After the rescue on the mountain and all that time spent together, of course feelings of friendship and romance would get misplaced. What you and he need is some space; it’s the best thing for both of you.

The best thing for you.

“Well,” Mathieu smirks, “what do ya say?”

——- ✶ ——-

When you arrived back home from Mathieu’s, you immediately dove onto your bed and fell asleep. It was one of those deep sleeps where, upon waking, it feels as if days, maybe weeks have gone by. It takes a few moments for you to remember where you are and what time it is. Only until you turn your head and see the picture of you and Martin next to your bed do you remember you’re back at home. For over three years, the photo of you and he on your wedding day has stood vigil on the altar next to your bed. Looking at the two smiling faces, your heart warms.

…you should allow yourself to feel love again. Martin had told you on that mountain top. Did he really mean it?

Love makes this whole world worth it.”

“He’s nice, Martin. A little rough around the edges, but I think you’d really like him.”

There’s that guilt again, rearing its ugly head. Guilt that you’re moving on, that you’re finding happiness without him.

“But it’s just a crush. I’m not looking to fall in love,” you say out loud, less to Martin and more to yourself.

Because surely, this isn’t love.

It’s the rumbling of your stomach that finally gets you out of bed. The days are slowly getting longer but the winter sun has already started to set, making you realize that you need to start on dinner before Max, Albert, and Luka return.

You’d just started on a potato soup when you hear the door open and the voices of the three young men filling the empty space around you. Although you had loved the time with only Levi, you’d missed their energy and smiling faces.

”Happy New Year!” Albert says gleefully, barreling into the kitchen and giving you a big hug.

“And to you all as well!” you answer back as you give them each a light hug and kiss on the cheek. “It was so quiet here without you.”

“I’m sure it was. I doubt all that alone time with Levi was very exciting. Did he even come out of his room?” Max asks, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

”I had a wonderful time with Levi. He..”

He kissed me. It was amazing. You want to cry out from the rooftops.

“He helped me clean and accompanied me to some New Year’s Eve parties. It was fun.”

The heat of your blushing cheeks makes you turn your back to the three. “But other than that it was a quiet week.” You busy your hands with cutting potatoes and carrots. “Enough about me. I want to hear all about your time back home.”

While you cook, they tell you stories of their towns and neighborhoods: the friends they saw and their family traditions. Their tales continue as you eat, and you listen intently, but all the while noting that Levi hasn’t yet returned home.

It’s late into the evening when you finally hear the doorknob to the front door turn. You’re reading in the sitting room and listening to music on the gramophone with the others as he enters, giving a nod when everyone wishes him a Happy New Year.

“I hear you’re taking care of Old Man Mathieu for a few weeks,” Max says.

”Yeah. It’s not like he has anyone else.”

”He has all of us,” you remind him. “I can go over with you every morning and help out.”

”About that,” Levi says, shifting his weight off of his knee and running his hand through his hair. “I’ve decided I’m going to live at Mathieu’s for the time being. At least until he recovers.” The record has stopped playing and it’s suddenly become quiet in the room. “If I’m having to work double time at the stables, I might as well just stay there and help him with other things too. I mean, the man can’t even shit by himself.”

“Oh..” the word escapes your mouth before you know it. Did Levi notice how sad it sounded?

You reprimand yourself for your reaction. Mathieu needs help, and Levi is willing to do that. It’s admirable. “That’s good of you to do that, Levi. Of course, it’s the right thing to do.”

“Well then, I should pack a few things and get back over there.” He nods again and walks to his room.

You wait expectantly for an invitation to join him. You’ve been imagining the conversation all evening:

“Catherine, can we talk in my room? Privately?”

The three younger men look at each other, before Albert speaks up. “We should probably be getting to bed anyway.”

You follow Levi to his room, your heart thumping loudly. As you stand in the doorway, he closes the door, brushing so close to you that you can feel his breath move across your neck. He stands to face you.

“I’ve wanted to talk to you…about this morning,” you say.

“We don’t need to talk about it,” he’d reply, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close to him. He kisses you again, this time, fully and confidently.

Perhaps you don’t even make it to your room that night.

It gives you butterflies just thinking about it. But as minutes pass, you realize that he’s not going to call for you. The minutes inch by, until Albert, Max, and Luka say their good nights and retire to their rooms. Only then do you decide to take the initiative. You can’t keep wondering any longer.

You walk over to his door and knock. “Levi, can I come in?”

He opens the door and gestures for you to enter. You do so, nervously.

You wait, but he continues to pack his bag.

Time to be brave, Catherine.

“Levi, I want to talk about…” your hands are sweaty and clutched at your sides as you take a quick breath, “...about this morning.”

“Right…” Levi takes his own breath.

You can do this. You can tell him how you feel!

He stops packing to look at you. “There’s no need to talk about it.”

Your heart is beating fast, wanting him to move closer, to touch you.

“It was a mistake,” he says, bluntly.

Levi isn’t one to mince words; he gets to the point, you know that. But the way he says it - so coldly, it makes your stomach drop.

And all that excitement, that expectation, comes crumbling down around you.

“You’re my friend, Catherine. Nothing more. That kiss…was a lapse in judgment.” He looks away. “I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise.”

A mistake. A lapse in judgment. The words cut like a knife.

“Right,” you finally reply, after a few stunned, silent moments. “Right…a mistake. It absolutely was.”

A part of you actually believes that. The other part, however…

You mask your feelings with a smile. “There’s no harm done, Levi. We’re still friends.” You pat his arm, lingering there just a little bit before pulling back. Everything feels awkward now. “Let’s just pretend like it never happened.”

There’s no point in telling him how you feel now; he’s made his feelings known loud and clear, and you’d obviously read everything wrong. What a fool you’ve been.

He looks into your eyes again, as if he’s trying to read what you’re really saying, how you really feel. “Right.” His own eyes soften, and it looks as if he’s going to say something, but stops himself. “I should get back over there,” he finally says, “Mathieu can barely wipe his own ass now without my help.”

You stifle a breathy laugh. “You probably should.”

The two of you walk to the door and Levi hauls his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll come by later for the rest of my things. You can rent out my room during that time, if you need to.”

You clutch at the sweater over your shoulders as he opens the door. The outside air suddenly feels colder, crueler.

“That’s your room, Levi. It’ll be waiting for you to return.” You search his face for some kind of reaction, but it’s only cold indifference. “You are coming back, right?”

“Yeah. Of course,” he answers, but there’s a tone that makes you feel like he’s unsure.

Everything feels so unsure now.

“Goodnight, Catherine.” He walks into the darkness of the snowy night, leaving you standing in the doorway.

You thought the kiss was going to change everything for you and he, and it did. Just not in the way you’d wanted.

You blink away tears and close the door.

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