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fanaticsnail · 2 months ago

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Exhibitionism: Trafalgar Law

Birthday Celebration Masterlist

Word Count: 4,100+

Themes: Law x afab!reader, mdni, NSFW, 18+, smut, fingering, praise, public, no prior relationship, masturbation, education, medical malpractice, (witnesses present: Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo), consent asked multiple times, medical talk, vaginal exam.

Notes: This is day 2 of my celebration event. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Disclaimer: I am not a doctor, please excuse any inaccuracies.

When Ikkaku approached you with a coin from your captain’s prized collection, your brows knit together in puzzlement. She had this look in her eye, one that held something hidden behind her usual disgruntled expression that held you intrigued. Head lulling to the side, she pursed her lips and asked you her question.

“Heads or tails?”

Shaking your head softly, you gave her more of a confused smile than anything else. With a soft shrug, and an assumption in your mind regarding chore rotation, you simply pouted while uttering your answer.

“Tails, I guess?”

With a mischievous smirk, Ikkaku flicked the shiny object in the air with a skilled roll of her thumb. Catching it mid-air, she swatted it and held it firmly within a cupped grip on her forearm. Eyes darting between yours, her smile grew ever wider the longer she held your attention.

“Don't want to reconsider?” she taunted you, “Last chance to change your answer, hon. Still going with tails?”

“I like my odds, and tails is my favorite” you smile warmly at her, “They're always more intricately carved, and their patterns are pretty.” She nods, tugging away her hand and revealing the side facing the roof of the tang to you both.

“Would you look at that! You win,” she chuckled, reaching the coin forward and gently offering it out for you to take, “Give this to the captain when you go on in to see him. He's expecting one of us, and I'm so fucking glad it's you.” She seemed to breathe out a sigh of relief at that last statement, her cheeks falling a little as she feels a weight flee from her shoulders.

You cocked your head at her response, darting your eyes between hers before you apprehensively took the coin from her hands.

“What the fuck did I just agree to?” you giggle a little, unsure of what would phase your crewmate so much that she'd breathe out this much relief, “Some sick and twisted chore?”

“Nah, nothin’ like that,” she giggled, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze, “Captain needed a volunteer for a lesson he wanted to teach some of the crew, is all.” She gently waved you off, giving you that grin filled with mischief that had your skin ignite with goose flesh.

Shrugging off your nerves, you ponder what mysterious lesson needed your person in that only you or Ikkaku would be able to serve under.

Whatever you concocted in your mind, nothing prepared you for where you found yourself. Splayed out in the medical bay, legs in stirrups, and made comfortable by pillows tucked behind your head, and a weighted blanket kindly placed over your stomach to grant you some comfort within the issue at hand: Captain Trafalgar Law was giving three of the crew a lesson on anatomy. Your body as his guide, he had his nylon gloves tugged over his wrists as he gently pointed out several areas of your pussy to your crewmates.

“The labia majora and the labia minora are a part of what is commonly referred to as ‘the vulva’,” Law’s low tone and dry voice caused you to internally shake your head and roll your eyes, but externally remaining still so he could deliver more of his lecture, “This also includes the urethra, vagina, and glans clitoris. Any questions?”

“What is the main function of the clitoris?” Bepo’s voice bashfully rose his question through a shy mumble, “What does it do?” Snickers from Shachi and Penguin were hastily silenced by a look Law shot them, his eyes piercing them more precisely than his blade ever could.

“The clitoris is where most owners of vaginas often source their pleasure,” Law explained without fluctuation in his cadence, “For many, it is the most common cornerstone of their orgasm. Only a small fraction is external, the majority of the clitoris is internal. Stimulating the clitoris is usually the final leg to achieving an orgasm. Any other questions, or should I move on-?”

“-The fuck you mean it's internal? Like the G-spot?” Shachi spoke over Law, cutting him off and relating his concern. Law sighed, clamping his eyes shut and taking a small breath of agitation.

“Both yes, and no. It's currently under debate as to what part of the network the G-spot is: whether it's a part of the vagina, or if it's the underside of the clitoris,” Law spoke, resting his hand on your exposed thigh.

You try not to tense up as you stare at the ceiling and think on the dinner menu, the cleaning rotation, the timetable for overnight shift, and what time to set your alarm in the morning. Anything other than four of your crewmates staring at your pussy, and attempting to ignore the way your Captain's authoritarian dictation was affecting you. Anything other than the embarrassment of getting aroused at each soft and intentional poke and prod to your cunt, paired with the dry delivery of medical speech.

“Now, let's talk internally,” Law cut through the silence, gently moving his warm hands towards your core and using the heels of his palm to divide your walls and expose your entrance. “The alley towards the cervix-.”

“-Captain, I'm sorry to interrupt your lecture,” Bepo’s voice spoke quietly once more, “But I have more questions about the clitoris. When you say it's the most common source for the orgasm, can you explain anything else about it? I-... I just want to learn, I'm sorry.” You purse your lips and attempt to suppress a soft coo at Bepo’s sweetness.

Law was less enthusiastic about the interruption, but halted his explanation to satisfy the curiosity of the polar-bear mink.

“The clitoris has three parts to it,” you felt his hands move up, the heel of his palm at the base of your abdomen, pushing up the skin and exposing more of you to your crewmates, “See here? I’m pushing the clitoral hood back to reveal this smaller organ hidden beneath? That is an extremely sensitive part of the vaginal anatomy. When stimulated, the vagina will self-lubricate to allow easier entry internally.”

You could barely breathe, thankful for the security the weighted blanket offered you to anchor you to the table and prevent you from fleeing from sheer embarrassment. Taking a few steady breaths in, you attempted to keep yourself calm as you shoved away the feeling of an almost touch to your sensitive bundle of nerve-endings from your captain.

Sensing your unease, Law drew his other hand to your thigh and gave you a gentle tap in appreciation of your willingness as his assistant. While he would never say it, he hoped you were the one to agree to this little display instead of Ikkaku. He wouldn't have heard the end of her sass, and you were far easier to ask to follow obscure orders from time to time.

“Sir, when you say ‘self lubricate,’ can you explain what that means-?” Bepo asked quietly once more, prompting you to let out a soft cough to cover a nervous laugh. Law seemed to notice your nerves, gently checking in with you before he did anything without consent. With the gentle call of your name, he broke you from your thoughts and coaxed your eyes to meet his.

“Would you mind if I demonstrated a little bit about how lubrication is produced?” His question seemed the most straight forward to ask the most abstract concept you could ever hope to agree to.

Your captain, Trafalgar D Water Law: former warlord of the seas, and titled the surgeon of death, was asking for permission to get you wet in front of your crewmates. With a soft warmth illuminating your cheeks, you felt compelled to nod. You did not want to disappoint your captain, and having him so close to your intimate region was driving you to the brink of your self control.

“If you deem it necessary, and are prepared to, Captain. I won't stop you,” you responded, checking in with him to ensure he was comfortable with demonstrating this in front of his subordinates. While you were the one about to be made aroused in front of your crew, your captain was going to be the one to do it.

“Alright,” Law nodded down at you, again while giving your thigh a soft squeeze, “Thank you. You're an excellent assistant, and I appreciate you for doing this.”

Managing to give him a soft nod, you lay back and fixed your eyes on the silver roof of the Polar Tang’s med bay as you felt your captain's hand shift towards your pussy. Gently holding your pelvis up with the heel of his palm, he exposed your clit by pulling back the hood.

“Where most partners, once knowing where the clitoris is and what it does, would go charging in towards it,” Law spoke while the warmth of his hands moved towards your pearly bud, “You must only be kind to it. Gentle motions: either up and down,” your breath hitched as his fingers made contact with your clit, his motions following his instructions.

“You can also go side to side,” he rolled your clit with his index finger, your dry pussy now weeping with a small amount of arousal pooling at the entrance, “Or in a circular motion. Like so,” his wrist shifted, using both his index and unity finger to stimulate your clit. You continued to stare up at the ceiling, attempting to fight the way your body was responding to your captain and compartmentalize the feeling of his hands on your body.

“And now you see, there's a little bit of lubrication at the entrance,” his hands darted down, collecting a small amount of your slick, and raising his hand up to the light. “This is an indication of arousal, and will often pave the way for penatritive sex for those who enjoy it.” Law finished, bringing his hand away from your pussy and letting it throb in front of your crewmates.

“Now that we've got it wet, is there any other quest-,” Law’s words were stolen from him when Bepo interjected, much to both Shachi and Penguin's delight.

“-When you say ‘penatritive sex,’ do you mean when a penis goes in? I am so sorry,” Bepo added, his apologies directed at you, alongside his heartfelt gratitude, “I just want to learn. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.” Before Law had a moment to reprimand Bepo, you spoke up calmly and sweetly.

“No, it's okay Bepo. It's actually refreshing that you want to learn this,” you raise your head and give him a soft smile, “If you have a partner with these parts in future, I know they would appreciate you knowing how to satisfy them. Sorry for interrupting, sir. I won't do it again.” You turn your attention towards Law, offering him a soft smile before returning to your reclined position against the bay.

Law, despite his stoic exterior, attempted to ignore the twitch in his pants each time you called him ‘sir’ while being so close to your pussy. ‘It was all in the name of knowledge and medical education,’ he told himself, ‘Nothing more.’

“Penetrative sex, Bepo, can be with foreign objects, including: hands, tongue, tools, and another person’s anatomy that fits within,” he relayed, gently bringing his hands back to your pussy and massaging your clit once more. “The only thing you need to think about is how aroused they are when entering. So, you see how there's a little amount of lubrication at the center?”

Law lined up his tallest finger with your core, gently carding through your folds and rubbing your slit. Slowly inching his fingertip within your pussy, he listened for that gentle hiccup in your breathing that shot lightning straight to his cock. He clamped his eyes shut to take a moment of composure, focussing his attention on the way his gloved finger disappeared into your pussy, and continued.

“So now we've got our partner lubricated enough to enter,” he pressed a little more firmly, more of his finger disappeared upwards within your pussy, “It goes in with ease. In a gentle rocking motion, we can use our hand and fingers to draw out pleasure.” Law continued to press more of his finger within your pussy, trying not to groan at the way it swallowed his digit with a greediness he did not anticipate. He could feel how hot and wet you were through the glove, and it made him almost want to dismiss the three from the room and claim you on the table.

“Now, if we're satisfied with this,” Law continued rocking you on his hand, his attention now turning towards Shachi, Bepo and Penguin, “I could now talk about performing cervical testing and pap smears, like I intended in the beginning-.”

“-Once the entrance is lubricated enough,” Bepo again spoke up, “Should the clitoris be ignored? It's far from the opening, and I could imagine it hard to reach.” Law sighed, turning back towards you while his finger was still buried within your center to the knuckle.

“I am so sorry,” he offered you, his eyes empathetic while he choked back his anger at the line of questions, “Would… Would you mind if I made you cum? I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and I would only be doing it for the benefit of answering all of the follow up questions that I know will come from my brief explaiations.” Law gave you a few short rocks of his hand within your pussy, causing you to bite back a moan that he so easily could have ripped from you.

“If-...” you hissed, feeling more of the pressure returning to your abdomen the longer his hands remained focussing on your pussy. “If you think it's necessary, sir. I am at your mercy, and I will leave it up to you to decide how far you want to take this in the name of educational curiosity. Anything you need, I'm here to assist, sir.”

“Very well,” Law offered with a soft, cocky snicker in his tone, “I'm going to demonstrate a little bit of what I know about anatomy. Please just relax, let me take the reins, and tap my arm to stop me if it gets too much.”

“Yes, sir,” you nod, closing your eyes as you relax against the bay and gulping back your nerves, “Thank you, Captain.” You try to ignore the way you knew four sets of eyes were now fixed on the way your pussy sucked in Law’s finger as he dove it in and retracted it out.

“Okay, now that we're both consenting individuals for this small display, I'm going to demonstrate how to induce an orgasm from our willing crewmate here,” Law nodded to the other three, “You signed up for learning how to complete cervical screening, not learning how to deliver an orgasm. I am happy to cover them while you leave if you do not want-.”

“-Nope!”

“-Nuh uh, I'm good!”

“-I want to learn, Captain.”

You almost wanted to scream at the awkward tension in the room, feeling yourself slink back into the comfort of your shell and hide from them. Just as you were about to speak, Law drew his thumb up and began to gently roll your clit in slow and circular motions. Each time he drew his finger inside your pussy, he would match it with a soft roll of your clit beneath his thumb.

“This act is called ‘fingering’,” he added, likely for Bepo’s benefit while he continued to motion with his hands further, “While few partners enjoy being stimulated either internally or externally, I find the combination of the two actions gets a far greater result. See how much more lubrication freely falls from the entrance?” Law removed his finger from your pussy and held it up to the other three before returning it back to your slit.

“Now, I'm going to add a second finger to the mix,” he nodded, gently bringing his unoccupied hand up to the top of your thigh and giving it a small, appreciative squeeze, “I prefer using my two middle fingers, like so.” He lines up his fingers and gently eases them in your drooling pussy, rolling them against each other to stretch out your entrance.

“This leaves our index finger, pinky finger, and thumb free, so we can use them to-...” he draws his index finger and pinky against your labia and spreads it, his thumb returning to your clit and gently tapping on it with every in-thrust, “...Gently pry apart the vagina so we can see what we're doing, while using our thumb to stimulate the clitoris.”

Scrunching your eyes tightly shut, you used your top teeth to clamp hard on your lower lip to halt a wanton moan from falling from your lips. You couldn't, however, halt the way your back arched on the medical bay as your thighs began to tremble at the amount of pleasure your captain was ripping from you.

“Based on this reaction from our partner, how should I proceed?” he offered the other three, “See how they've arched their back, and their legs had began to twitch a little? This is the telltale sign that, regardless of the silence or not, they are enjoying what we are doing. Should I continue like this, speed up, or slow down?”

“I think we should slow down, draw it out a little more, and take our time with it,” Penguin offered in contemplation, “Withhold it a little to prolong the orgasm and build it up to a larger release.”

“I think we should stay at the same pace,” Bepo suggested, his tone more apprehensive, “Our partner seems to like it, and I would not want to disappoint them by changing what I'm doing in case they don't like it as much.”

“I think we should speed it up, hook our hands up, spit on it a little bit to add more lubrication, and see if we can make them squirt,” Shachi shrugged, uttering it is if it was the most obvious choice, “Use our tongue too, suck on the clit a little bit and make them get a little loud and nasty-.”

“-Keep up the language, Shachi, and I'll have you used as an example of what a prostate exam is,” Law’s warning tone, alongside his coaxing fingers had you whimpering. Your eyes floated open, eyelashes fluttering as he kept a steady rhythm on your pussy, and drawing out your pleasure with ease.

“While these are good suggestions, what we're missing is collecting preference from the one person that truly matters,” Law nodded to them, turning back his attention to you, “You're doing so well. Thank you for letting me do this. Would you prefer I slow down, speed up, or keep talking at the same pace while I change it up?” You gulp at his attention now returned to you, trying to compartmentalize the pleasure while communicating with your captain.

“I-...” you close your eyes, fighting a soft whimper at the way his hand manages to press against your most intimate regions and erogenous zones with the precision of a marksman hitting their target. Without much thought to the action, you couldn't help the words that fell from your lips.

“Please make me cum, captain. Please speed up a little bit, add some more pressure to my clit, and focus more on where your fingers touch me internally,” your soft plea was made with an almost innocent and begging look from your rounded eyes, “Please make me cum. I n-need to cum. Please, sir? Please?”

“Fuck,” a soft whisper from behind Law almost tore you away from your thoughts, Shachi’s hand moving to the front of his boiler suit and adjusting his hardening cock by pinching at the fabric. Law had no time to reprimand him, his entire attention focussed on you the moment your first utter of ‘please’ escaped your lips. Law sped up his motions, hooking up his digits and circling your clit with his thumb.

“Like this? I can feel the way you twitch around me when I push here. But if I push here,” Law moved his hand slightly up, leaning his body closer to yours while his hand was pressed on the base of your pelvis. Moving your hood back with his hand as he did earlier, he exposed more of your clit and spread your slick over your quivering pearl while his motions picked up, “I can stimulate all the parts of your clit at once. Do you like that?”

“Yes, please!” your back bowed as you felt your orgasm grow and bloom in your abdomen, “Please don't stop, captain! Please make me cum!” The fact your crewmates were watching as you were brought to your peak on Law's hands escaped you, your body responding to each rake of his fingers deep within your needy cunt.

“Fu-uck,” another whisper echoed from behind you, this time from Penguin who was clutching his clipboard closer to his chest and pressing his thighs close together.

“You can cum. Cum for me. Cum on my fingers,” Law kept his eyes on your face, continuing to beckon your orgasm from you while raising the intensity and speed of his motions. You felt the coil within your abdomen begin to wind tightly bound, your toes beginning to twitch and curl while your legs dug in against the stirrups.

“Nnnngh-... f-fuck-!” Back fully arching off the table, your lips parted in a silent cry as your pussy began to flutter around Law’s fingers. Both “A” and “T” continued to disappear into your pussy, his relentless stimulation of your clit pushing you from that ledge as you floated off into oblivion.

“There you go, there you go,” Law encouraged you, slowing down his motions as he felt you contract and pulse around his digits, “Good job. Look at you, cumming on my fingers. That's it, keep going.” You couldn't help but let out a higher whine at his praise as he continued to draw out your ecstasy with his skilled hands. He easily ushered you through it, careful to not overstimulate you as he draws you closer to your conclusion.

Feeling the last few waves of your pussy pulsing over his fingers, he holds them within, right down to the knuckle. He felt selfish in lingering longer than necessary, but he needed to feel you just that little bit longer as you panted and heaved through that high.

“So, you see how I slowed down as our partner experienced their orgasm?” Law slowly withdrew his fingers from your pussy, feeling the way it attempted to suck him back within and made him feel like internally groaning at the action, “Why did I do that?”

The room was in pregnant silence, nobody speaking a word, nor raising their hands to indicate their answers. With a soft roll of his eyes and a sigh, Law reached up and removed the elastic of his gloves with a snap over his wrists, breaking the men from their trance.

“To not overstimulate our partner. When the vagina experiences an orgasm, it is far more intense than the penis,” Law discarded the gloves into the bin and gently placed the blanket to cover up your exposed cunt, “The body doesn't feel it at just the abdomen, it feels it everywhere. If you keep it sped up, it overstimulates them to a point where it can become painful in some people. Communication is key with our partner. Any questions?”

Through the small amount of silence, the small voice of the polar-bear spoke shyly.

“Thank you,” he gently praised through his gratitude, rolling your name over his tongue with a blush dusting his white fur, “I appreciate you showing us this, and answering a lot of questions I was going to have before I asked them.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the roof as you raise up your hand. Extending your thumb, you gently squeak out through panting breaths: “Happy to help.”

While remaining composed and professional through the entirety of the ordeal, Trafalgar Law was far from unmoved by your display. He heard your whines for him, saw your back bowing and hips bucking, and remembered the way your pussy quivered against his fingers through each wave of your bliss. When he was alone in his quarters, he couldn't help but to bite his palm hard to muffle the keening cries of his bliss while fisting his cock to the memory. Ropes of cum spurting from his slit while he pictured the way your pussy would feel in the cusps of ecstasy atop his cock.

With the soft cry of your name muffled by his palm, he chased his high past overstimulation while picturing your begging. Eyes rolling, he bucked up into his balled fist while falling from a secondary edge of his own. He was desperate to feel you again: taste you, kiss you, consume you, worship you with his body against your own. All he could do was harden his resolve, charge up to you, and confess his adoration to you…

…Right after he cleaned up his mess.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

🎶Happy Birthday to Me🎶

If you would like to celebrate by indulging my caffeine and bubble tea addiction, my Kofi link is here.

#one piece #x reader #birthday celebration 2024 #birthday event 2024 #law #op law #Trafalgar law #law x reader #x afab!reader #trafalgar law smut #one piece smut #2024 birthday party

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ahundredtimesover · 10 months ago

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I Want You to Stay (04) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

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

Chapter Word count: 11.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

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

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii I'm getting slower with editing and writing so please bear with me moving forward! Also pls remember, this is a slow burn haha. But anyway, been loving your replies (I see you) and messages, thank you. I hope you enjoy this one!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

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

The events of last weekend remain in your mind, as you approach Jungkook’s apartment the next Monday and feel like your heart will leap out of your chest.

You remind yourself that he wasn’t angry at you; he’d even tried to apologize and didn’t make a fuss when you left the restaurant last Saturday. But still, the whole incident would make anyone feel agitated, and you know his capacity to feel and express that. He was inconvenienced and put on the spot, after all.

You enter, and shortly after, Jungkook exits the gym then greets you with a nod when he sees you. He looks more tired than anything. He doesn’t have a hint of frustration in his eyes, and you could only hope that he’d forgotten about what happened or, like how he is when it comes to personal matters, he’d chosen not to acknowledge it.

You bow in return, sneaking a glance as he walks towards his bedroom, with your throat drying up when he removes his shirt, briefly gracing you with a view of his glistening toned back right before disappearing inside. You wait half a minute before you follow him to prepare his clothes, giving yourself time to breathe before you have to face him again. You return to the kitchen and prepare his breakfast, looking up when you hear him walk in.

You approach him to do an act that’s become a routine for you, and for him as well, as he stands straight and unmoving while you tighten his tie and make sure he looks fine. Even when your fingers only graze his clothed chest, the memory from last Saturday becomes vivid, as you recall wiping his wine-soaked top, feeling the taut body underneath.

You shake your head at the thought, realizing that there are more things about that night that you should not acknowledge at all, including the heat you felt at seeing him in the washroom, a little exposed and definitely sweaty. There was that tension and the dropping of formalities that felt too foreign and quite disorienting. You don’t know him as anything other than the ‘Mr. Jeon’ you assist; seeing him as just ‘Jungkook’ was different. But you suppose that that’s the man you help everyday, and you wonder how much of himself he leaves behind in the office and how much of him now is just… him.

As you go about your routine during breakfast, you’re reminded that for Jungkook, there doesn’t seem to be a difference. How he is at work is the same as how he is elsewhere - serious, quiet, and detached. Except maybe when he’s with those women he meets at clubs, though. Perhaps the thrill and pleasure inject a bit of emotion and passion in him. You wouldn’t know, but at least it’s a way for him to take a break from the responsibilities he carries.

You scold yourself internally again. You’re not supposed to be curious; you’re not supposed to care. So you shake all of them away and remind yourself of who you are and your own distance that you should observe.

You get to your senses and proceed accordingly. You go about as usual in the morning with his meetings, and then he shuts his office so he could focus in the afternoon. You see his furrowed brows from the window, as he works on what seems to be the Arts Center again, given his requests for financial and marketing reports of the company's non-residential projects from the last five years.

You’re busy with organizing his Singapore trip and coordinating with the CEO’s office about the upcoming Appointment Dinner to formally introduce the new appointees, when he exits his room and looks through the folders lined on the shelf behind you.

“Where are the portfolios of our collaboration projects from 2017?” He asks.

“They’re in the archive room,” you answer, standing up to head there.

But he does it first, beating you to the corner area just off the hallway to the left. Your steps are obviously not at pace with his, and he’s tiptoeing to reach for a large folder by the time you get there. He’s able to retrieve it, laying it on the ledge as he goes through some pages.

“I could’ve gotten that,” you say softly, and Jungkook turns to you and wishes he hadn’t, as your pout makes his insides melt.

There’s something about your disappointment that you didn’t get to help him that makes his heart race a little, and while he knows it has everything to do with you thinking that he’d think you’re not doing your job properly, he still likes to keep the thought that you’d wanted to help him in the first place.

“It was heavy,” he explains.

“I’ve carried and pulled and pushed things way heavier than that folder,” you scoff.

“Really?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, trying not to show amusement on his face. “My cousin let you do all those things, huh?”

You frown at his attempt to catch you slipping. “I do many things in the background during events, Mr. Jeon, things that get everything functioning properly while Mr. Jung engages with the guests.”

Jungkook can only imagine how much work you put into getting those events hosted by the VP’s office running. Perhaps retrieving heavy folders is no big deal for you. But still, he doesn’t want to come across as a jerk for making you do something he can do on his own. He already was, he reminds himself, and you also definitely think he is; he doesn’t want to add to that any more, not after everything that’s happened.

So he just nods. “It’s a simple task I can do.”

Jungkook looks at the labeled boxes and folders. He’s got materials and design points to finalize by tonight. There are some more past projects he wants to go through to take inspiration from, and he finds another one he wants to look at, underestimating its weight, which is why he jerks in surprise when he feels how heavy it really is.

You’re there on cue, as if you knew it was gonna be too much. And if he’d asked you, you probably would’ve told him so.

You’re standing much closer to him, your fingers grazing against his as you hold onto the folder. It’s almost familiar, only because you stood this close to him that night at the restaurant, too - when you cleaned him up, and then when you handed him his clothes in the washroom. You actually stand this close to him everyday when you fix his tie. Perhaps after all that, it’s only dawning on you just how little space between you two there are sometimes, and you’re suddenly hyper aware - of the distance, of his scent, of the way he’s looking back at you when you turn to look at him.

“It was heavy,” he admits.

And for some reason, you laugh. Maybe it’s the slightly embarrassed look on his face or it’s just your defense mechanism when you feel tense but you let out an amused sound, with it fading as the time goes by and you realize you’re actually laughing at your boss.

“Making fun of me, Ms. Cho?”

“I… I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you stammer, stepping away.

You’re about to mentally curse yourself until you see his slight smirk, and the thought of him making fun at you by scaring you like that makes you feel better. He may have some sense of humor after all.

Still, you bow in apology, and there’s a moment when you meet his eyes, with something not anger or frustration in them, that you both linger, as if there are things both of you feel that need to be said; you just don’t know what they are.

“Did the dry cleaners get to remove the wine stains?” You manage to get some words out, turning away now as you bring up last Saturday night.

“Uh, yeah,” he responds. There’s a pause before he continues. “Did… did you get home okay?”

You’re too stunned to be able to answer right away but you eventually do. “Uh, yeah. Jimin, Soomin, and I just bought food and then went to my apartment. And you?”

“I did,” he nods.

“Did… did Hajoon bother you again after we left?”

“No. Well, he just kept giving me the death stare but he didn’t do anything else,” he says.

“I really don’t know what got him so worked up,” you sigh, feeling bolder at having to share this much. “He’s not usually confrontational and he knows I hate it. That shouldn’t have happened.”

“People have their reasons for getting angry. They’re not always valid, though, and definitely not always warranted,” Jungkook replies, briefly looking away. “Whatever it is, at least he didn’t throw a punch.”

“Oh, if he did, that is it for me,” you chuckle, feeling unfamiliar with being able to talk to Jungkook so casually like this. “Goodbye, job; goodbye, Seoul. I will probably just work as a librarian somewhere.”

Jungkook wants to say he wouldn’t accept your resignation for that reason, that he doesn’t want you to go anywhere, actually. But that’s too much and probably inappropriate to say given the circumstances. So he just hums and turns back to the folder and looks through them.

“I’ll need these back in my room,” he says, carrying one while you take the other.

You appreciate the topic change, knowing you won’t know how to handle more if the conversation deepens. You both walk back quietly, as it dawns on you that the casual nature you both talked to each other is a little disorienting.

You’re not used to him sounding concerned.

He’s not used to you being honest and open.

Perhaps seeing a different side of him isn’t all that bad, you think.

Jungkook wants to believe it’s your way of forgiving him, too, even if he hasn’t actually apologized for anything.

The minute it takes to return to your respective desks ends, and Jungkook is back to focusing on his designs while you get back to making reservations. You peek inside his room every once in a while to check if he’s okay, if there’s anything else he needs, if there’s anything you can do for him.

The frustrated look on his face isn’t new, but the fact that it isn’t directed at you, is. So is the worried feeling you have for him. You’re a mix of emotions from everything that’s happened this past month, so you can’t deny that the way he’s been acting towards you has left you confused, maybe even doubtful. You have to be cautious, you think, and not fall into a comfortable dynamic with him so easily.

The next day, he’s back to being serious once again, as you sit to his right in the restaurant that will be catering the upcoming VP event. Jungkook decided for both of you to have the food tasting for lunch, and so a spread has been prepared for him to make the final decision on the menu.

You’d like to think that you’ve developed quite a sophisticated palate, all thanks to the numerous events that Hoseok asked you to organize in your three years working under him. With this upcoming dinner party a sort of introduction of Jungkook and the project to the art world, he wants to make sure that he serves only the best to the guests, which is why he carefully tastes each dish, trying to determine the best combination that’s both delicious and creative.

You give your comments, some of which he acknowledges, and you feel like you’re both making headway in terms of the menu, as well as with his disposition for the day, given that he’s looking more comfortable and relaxed than he was half an hour ago.

That is, until he sips his wine for the first time, and clears his throat.

“I believe I specifically said that lunch today is a work matter, Ms. Cho,” he says sternly. “You’re on the clock and this isn’t a break.”

“Y—yes, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, curious as to the reason for his statement.

“Then why is your boyfriend waiting outside the restaurant, trying to catch your attention?”

“What?” You exclaim, turning around and spotting Hajoon standing by the lamppost, his sullen eyes getting a bit of light in them once they meet yours. “I… I don’t know,” you respond. “I haven’t spoken to him since Saturday.”

“How did he know you’re here, then?”

“His restaurant is just up the street,” you sigh. “He must’ve seen me when he was walking there. This area is his usual route. Please just ignore him.”

“I can’t when he’s in my peripheral vision. He’s still the man who got in my face the other night. He clearly wants to speak to you and I don’t think he’ll go away,” Jungkook reasons.

You look at him, waiting for his instructions.

Jungkook doesn’t like that Hajoon is there and he also doesn’t want you to speak with him during work hours, especially if it’s going to affect you for the rest of the day. But the man seems desperate and persistent; he really doesn’t seem like he’ll just let this moment of seeing you pass.

“You have five minutes,” Jungkook says.

You don’t exactly want to go out there; there’s a reason why you haven’t returned Hajoon’s texts or calls these past days. But you can imagine that it’s a worse look for him to be staying around; a distraction during this work matter that you know Jungkook would not appreciate one bit. So you stand up and tell him that you’ll be back shortly.

Jungkook returns to the dish in front of him, noting that the Japanese mushroom risotto is a good addition to the set menu. The event his office is planning includes a sit down dinner and then an offering of canapés and champagne while guests walk around the venue to see the presentation of the Arts Center in large boards and on screens. It will be a good way for him to socialize - something he’s incredibly nervous about because it’s not his strongest suit, nor is it something he enjoys, unlike his cousin. The primary goal, though, is to introduce the project. Jungkook needs important people on board so they can be involved in the launch and the succeeding special activities.

He tries to think about that night and how he wants to design the place. He tries to think of other things, too, like the music and decor, even if he’d said that’s for both of you to plan next week. He’s even thinking of a follow up already, even if his management support team is in charge of that and would be dependent on how this first one is gonna go.

Jungkook tries to think of anything, really, just so he won’t constantly be glancing at you in his periphery, as you talk to the man from the other night and possibly make up. You did leave him at the restaurant last Saturday; you also did clarify that you’re not together. You just said you haven’t spoken since then, so it’s safe to say that both of you aren’t in good terms.

Jungkook can only assume, though. He doesn’t know the story, nor would he ever; he reminds himself he shouldn’t be thinking about it in the first place. He was never one to be privy to his staff’s personal lives; he spent most of his time with Lucas but didn’t know more than his family's composition. Jungkook doesn’t even recall knowing if Lucas had a partner, or if his then-assistant even mentioned it.

But clearly, Hoseok knows more about you than Jungkook would’ve expected. Perhaps it’s just how his cousin is, or maybe the time spent together just created that environment where it’s natural or normal. Maybe it’s the culture that his father encouraged; his old man is quite close with Mr. Ri - his former chauffeur and bodyguard - and Mrs. Myung - his executive assistant, after all.

But it’s not what Jungkook is used to; it’s not how he spent his few years in the Singapore office because like always, all he did was work and party. His mentor in graduate school also advised him that professional lines are ones he shouldn’t cross. Though Jungkook never really knew what exactly those were, he just dared not get close to anyone or be remotely interested at all, and that never caused him any problem. He’s always been safe where he was, guarded and unbothered.

But ever since you walked through those doors at Hoseok’s office that first Friday, Jungkook has been finding himself skirting near the boundaries far too often, and it’s only been a month. It began with making sure you’re eating well and that you’re safe on the way to work; he convinces himself that’s human decency, although he never really bothered much before.

And between wanting you to get proper rest before your trip to your hometown, to seeing you with that man from last weekend and being so bothered by it that it caused a scene, Jungkook’s internal alarm bells are ringing, telling him that he’s getting too interested, too close. It doesn’t help that he finds you attractive, something he doesn’t have control over. What he does have a say in is how he responds to it, and that has been incredibly tough, especially given the weekend he’s had.

He’d spent the rest of it trying to keep his mind off you - the way you looked in that outfit, the way your touch sent shivers down his spine, the way you’d looked at him worriedly… And when you walked out of that restaurant, he wondered what you were thinking, how you were feeling, how you’d be spending the rest of the night, and if you were gonna be home okay. He hasn’t really stopped since.

Even now, as he stays in his seat and tightly grips his glass of wine at the scene unfolding outside.

You’re standing with your arms crossed - setting the boundaries, and perhaps signaling your detachment, though he can’t see your face. The man, on the other hand, seems emotional, the tinge of sadness evident on his face. But there’s a mix of frustration and anger, too, as his arms flail around. He points at you, then at himself. His voice seems raised; Jungkook swears he can see the veins from the man’s neck popping out while you… you’ve got your head turned to the side, your body not eliciting much of the emotion the way the man’s is.

Jungkook stops himself from making an excuse for you to come back inside, just so he can pull you away from a conversation that you don’t seem to be wanting to have. But he knows it’s not his place, and the man might make a scene again if Jungkook decides to step in. You know how to stand up for yourself; you’d done it to him, he reminds himself. You’ll do what you need to do, whatever it is.

The man heaves, as whatever monologue he was giving ends. He reaches out to you, perhaps making a final plea, but you step back, widening the distance. It’s what prompts him to bow his head and turn around, leaving you by the lamppost on your own.

Jungkook sighs in relief now and he waits for you to return, but he’s surprised when you stay rooted in your spot, your arms wrapping around yourself despite the heat outside. He worries when you enter, your head bowed down and unable to look at him.

He wants to ask how you are, but he’s unsure if he’s ready for your answer, knowing that there isn’t much he can do anyway. So he goes with what he knows - detachment.

“I’ve chosen the last two dishes,” he says. “They’re serving the desserts soon.”

You turn to him immediately, your misty eyes painted with worry meeting his own.

“I didn’t think I was away that long,” you state, worried about the time you left your boss waiting while dealing with a personal matter that for the first time made you wish you were stuck with Jungkook instead. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon.”

He didn’t expect you to look so upset. He’s terrible at comforting people, but even if he wasn’t, he doesn’t know if he’d manage to comfort you. So he just shrugs and says that they were straightforward dishes.

You both try the desserts then the canapés, exchanging thoughts about all the options before shortlisting your chosen dishes. By the time the food tasting is over, you’re stuffed and set for the rest of the day.

You try not to look at Jungkook. You don’t know if he’d seen how your conversation went with Hajoon, but if he had, he could probably tell what was going on even if he couldn’t hear anything.

He’s had his moments, but you’ve never seen Hajoon look that upset and emotional, and you stood there, afraid to face all his feelings that you didn’t know what to do with, all those words that you didn’t know how to take. You’re usually one who’s able to let negative things said to you just go over your head, but something about what he’d said today hit you; you know it’ll take you until tomorrow to get over them.

But you try to get through the rest of the day the way you usually do - going through reports, organizing schedules, finalizing tomorrow’s presentation, and then working on the revised interdepartmental guidelines that Jungkook tasked you to do.

There are draft letters you send to him, thinking that you’ll work on some administrative matters while he reviews them, but you’re surprised when he calls for you 10 minutes later, saying the letters are approved and you can send them in the morning. You’re left wondering, given that anything you submit to him usually goes through intense scrutiny. Perhaps you’re not used to this easy pass, but you try not to overthink it, given the day you’ve had.

“You can go home, Ms. Cho,” he says as he types away.

It’s 5:30 PM. Usually this time, he’s still handing you things to review or instructing you on what else to do.

He seems to pick up on your silence, as without looking at you, he clarifies. “I don’t need you to do things you can do tomorrow. We’ll have meetings all day so I understand if you want to stay behind but you don’t have to.”

He doesn’t seem like he’ll be finishing soon, and you’re really not in the best mood so you nod and bid him goodbye.

The conversation with Hajoon stays in your mind all night and lasts until the next day. You’re in Jungkook’s penthouse the next morning, preparing his breakfast while he takes a shower.

With your phone snug under your neck, you relay to Soomin what happened yesterday. She was too busy last night for a call and she’s been bugging you since you got in the car - that you continue to ride as per your boss’ instructions - so you finally picked up, knowing how long it usually takes for Jungkook to finish.

“It started with him apologizing, then wondering why I haven’t been picking up his calls, then justifying his actions from last Saturday as him, standing up for me,” you narrate. “Obviously, I didn’t take those too kindly. But he said he wanted to be with me, like, have an actual relationship. And I said I didn’t want to then he just… he kinda just said everything he’s been keeping in.”

“Which is what?” Soomin asks.

“That I’m selfish, that I don’t think about what my actions may mean to others, which is silly since I was clear from the start about what I wanted from him,” you sigh. “He said that I act independent but that’s just a front, that deep down I’m a lonely woman who’ll probably push away every person who’s shown me they care until I have no one left and that’s why I’ll be alone forever, which he says is a deep fear that I have because I apparently told him that when I was drunk. And even after all that, he said he still cares about me, that he wants to try to be something for real this time, that if I just let him, he’ll love me right and make me happy and I just backed away, like, why would you—”

The clearing of the throat cuts you off, and you nearly drop the expensive plate due to panic once you look up and see Jungkook standing by the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry for taking a personal call, Mr. Jeon,” you say immediately, putting away your phone. “It won’t happen again.”

You bow your head down in apology, which is why you don’t see the way Jungkook’s eyes soften as he looks at you. Words like that hurt, and he can’t imagine what it must’ve felt like for you hearing them. Still, you went about yesterday with your accomplished tasks and completed deliverables like it didn’t happen, displaying a kind of strength that he could only hope to have.

“Yesterday was a tough, I suppose,” he states, choosing to ignore your apology.

“It was a normal one,” you brush off, walking towards him to fix his tie, not meeting his gaze.

Jungkook doesn’t reply, knowing you don’t want to acknowledge that he’d overheard your conversation, which he didn’t mean to walk in on. It did bother him, too; he suddenly wishes he’d fought back if that man was just going to speak to you that way.

There’s a sadness in your eyes that he tries not to mind and which you try to trivialize. Perhaps the man matters that much to you for you to be feeling this bad; Jungkook doesn’t really know what to do with that thought. So he tries to brush it off, too, telling you instead to be ready for today’s meeting with his father.

You ask if he’s checked the presentation you worked on, as you added things from the last time. He nods and says he only added minimal details that he came up with last night, and you check to find that he indeed just made minute changes, another thing that you’re thankful for yet wary of, especially given how critical he was about your work in the beginning.

You continue with your morning routine of debriefing about yesterday’s meetings, then you finalize the Arts Center event’s menu in the car. When you arrive at the office, you wait patiently as he goes through some reports that you’ve checked, then he reviews some memos that he asked you to work on.

The last one finishes faster than you expected. It seems now that his comments are what you look for, only because it reminds you that he hasn’t changed; somehow that seems like a better thought to have than him suddenly being lenient or lowering his standards for you for some unknown reason. He’s definitely witnessed some of your low moments; you don’t want to think those have anything to do with how he’s been lately.

The meeting with the management support team ends before lunch time, and you work on the minutes and the other things Jungkook had asked of you during the time that he meets with Yoongi in his office. That takes another half hour, and by the time they’re done, you’re done with your tasks, too, so you send those documents to Jungkook for checking in the afternoon.

Another one off the list, you think to yourself. At this point, you’re just going over all your deliverables with a focused mindset and waiting for the day’s end so you can spend time for yourself, just on the couch watching variety shows and movies until the weekend comes when you can do that for longer hours.

Having your friends over or traveling to Daegu are the only other things you look forward to. You used to look forward to spending the night at Hajoon’s, too; you could at least feel something pleasurable - the closest you could get to any form of intimacy that didn’t require you to bare yourself other than your body. But that’s a thing of the past now - there’s that amazing life-changing toy that Soomin got you last Sunday that’s got you thinking that you’ll be fine being alone for the rest of your life.

“Long day, huh?”

You look up and see Yoongi, his curious eyes scanning your desk full of papers, folders, and half-eaten biscuits.

“It has been,” you sigh.

“I see. It’s also only just 12 noon,” he points out.

“What a shocking revelation, Min Yoongi,” you grunt. “I don’t need to be reminded that I have another six hours here.”

“Hmm, just like me. So, what are you looking forward to when you clock out?”

“My leftover stir-fry for dinner that I’m going to add beef to,” you respond. “And The Zone. I missed it last Monday.”

“You and your variety shows,” he chuckles.

“What other reason do I have to laugh, hmm?”

“I’d say me, but you don’t find me funny.”

“You aren’t, sorry,” you smile, your first of the day, and Yoongi smiles back, knowing you haven’t been doing it the past few weeks.

“So–”

“Ms. Cho,” Jungkook’s voice cuts Yoongi off, as your boss stands by his open door with curious eyes that flit from you to the man in front of you. He recovers though, as he instructs, “the minutes are fine. Send it to the team now so they can work on their tasks.”

“You’ve read it?” You speak too soon, realizing a second too late that the words didn’t stay in your head. Your widened eyes don’t help you though, as Jungkook scowls at you.

“Are you asking me if I’ve read the file that I just approved and instructed you to disseminate?”

Yoongi purses his lips to hold off a laugh, and you glare at him because his teasing isn’t really what you need right now.

“I meant, uh, you’ve reviewed it already, sir? I… thought… you were going to prepare for the lunch meeting instead,” you reason, which isn’t even a lie.

“I have. Father hasn’t called me up so I just reviewed the minutes while waiting.”

You look at the file and see that nothing has been added. “And? That’s it?”

“Ms. Cho, are you questioning my ability to review?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed as he starts to look displeased, although they seem harmless compared to his frustrated expressions from the past.

“No, Mr. Jeon, I apologize,” you say. “I was wondering if you didn’t have anything more to add, that’s all.”

“There’s none,” he clarifies. “Just send it to the team and uh… get ready for the meeting.”

He glances at Yoongi before closing the door.

“Questioning your boss’ ability to review now, huh?” Yoongi teases.

“Shut up. He’s just been weird,” you pout.

“That’s new. How so?”

“He hasn’t been an asshole for a few days.”

“Well, that’s quite the standard but I get you, I guess,” Yoongi hums. “In what way has he been out of character?”

“He just… hasn’t been pointing things out and correcting my submissions or asking a lot of questions about the reports I review,” you say. “Or just… you know, he hasn’t been him. He makes Mr. Ri pick me up every morning, he doesn’t email on the weekend, I get to leave on time, I get to eat properly…”

“In short, he’s been a decent boss recently?”

“I guess… I mean, it’s been two weeks since my mishap. He’s been quite tolerable these past few days. Maybe he hit his head and some loose screws tightened. Maybe he had a bad dream and the ghost of the future me visited him. Maybe he had a change of heart… though that’s highly unlikely. Maybe he–”

“Realized he hasn’t been good to you and doesn’t want you to go through the horror of another Mrs. Byun,” Yoongi interjects.

Your curious eyes prompt him to continue. “We had a meeting the other day and I saw a folder on his desk with her name on it. Formal complaints are only available in physical copies; other personnel files are stored in the server, so the only documents he’d have of her are the ones of her investigation. And he’d only be interested in that because of you. Those include your written statements.”

“As do you yours,” you point out.

“Yes, he’d totally be interested in how his design lead witnessed a manager’s abuse of power three years ago,” Yoongi sarcastically says.

You sigh to yourself. You’ve never told Jungkook about your experience with Mrs. Byun, but you wouldn’t be surprised if Hoseok or even Yoongi has mentioned it to him. It’s an experience you don’t like to think about; you were a young woman who had everything to prove, who had a lot to lose, and conceding to someone taking advantage of you seemed like the only way to survive. Not once did you put your foot down, and not once did you stand up for yourself. You experienced all those then went home to an empty house and found comfort in your own warmth and your own breathing.

You don’t want that experience to determine how others would treat you after. Hoseok was all things gentle and warm and you know that whatever you went through wouldn’t have determined how he treated you.

But Jungkook… Jungkook is different. This isn’t his default state. This isn’t how he normally is. This isn’t how you started. The last thing you want is for him to feel pity for all that you went through - in the past and recently - and then treat you differently because of it. He’s been less critical, less judgmental, and less doubtful of your capabilities. You only wish it isn’t for anything that he’d read or seen you experience.

“I doubt it,” you shake your head. “A man that perpetually displeased doesn’t just decide one day that he’d give the bare minimum of decency to his assistant.”

“Look, ___. Jungkook is a lot of things. He has a lot of feelings that he doesn’t want to deal with, and a lot of emotions he doesn’t know how to express,” Yoongi tries to explain. “I wouldn’t be friends with him if I didn’t believe there’s an ounce of goodness in him. And there is. Maybe him showing it just isn't good timing. He’s terrible at that, too. In fact, he’s terrible at a lot of things, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t try. It doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of kindness.”

“Kindness,” you huff. That’s quite a reach, but Yoongi’s always been a good judge of character. You do want to believe what he says about Jungkook; it’s just not an easy switch to flip. “I’m just trying not to care much at this point,” you sigh. “I come to work, focus on my tasks, do whatever I’m asked, go back home, rinse and repeat.”

“Is it satisfying, though?”

“When was work ever satisfying, Yoongi?” You laugh bitterly.

“Well, I could at least recall seeing you enjoy organizing those events for Hoseok and even joining him in some,” Yoongi points out. “I… I saw you smile a lot. There was a bit of satisfaction there, yeah?”

“Somehow, I guess. But I just had to make do. Hoseok was great, but this is also my job, really the only thing going for me.”

“What are you working towards, then?”

“I don’t really know. Maybe at 30 I should know but I really don’t.”

“Then why are you still here?” He asks, softly, desperately. “Why do you stay?”

“And find out who I am outside of all this?” You wonder out loud. “What if I don’t like her? What if she isn’t good?”

“Then this place hasn’t been good for you if you doubt who you are outside of what you’ve done here,” Yoongi says. “You’re just 30; there’s a whole world out there where you can learn who you are and be someone you actually like. I don’t know what’s stopping you.”

A lot of things, you think to yourself. But when you find comfort in discomfort, when you find security in chaos, and when you find companionship in loneliness, it’s not that easy to leave all this behind, even if deep down, you know it’s what you have to do.

“I don’t know, too,” you lie. “Maybe I’ll find a good enough reason one day and that would be it; I’ll be out of here and then I can find out if I like myself outside of everything I know.”

“I think you would.”

I did, Yoongi thinks to himself. He knows you’d laugh and agree; he’s moved on from you and things can’t be any better than how your friendship is right now, but he also knows you’re not the best at feelings, a similarity he realizes you have with the person you supposedly dislike.

“I won’t know until then, I guess. So I just gotta bear with who I am now,” you say.

There’s so much of you that Yoongi doesn’t know. It’s why he wanted to, why he asked you out for coffee and why he felt a bit of a heartbreak when you turned him down. But there are parts of you that he does know, that you let him see, and sometimes he finds himself wishing you’d find someone you’d feel safe enough with to share everything else you keep to yourself.

He keeps these things to himself, too. He’s learned that the only way to keep you close is to keep his distance; you’ll reach out if you need to, even if it’s something you rarely do. But what’s important is that he’ll be there just in case; what matters is you know that there’s a hand available when you need it.

So he just nods and takes your word for it. You’ll find yourself somehow, in whatever way you will. And you’ll find a reason to leave, whenever that is. He could only hope it’s a decision you’d make on your own, one that you won’t regret, and one that’ll lead you to find whatever it is that you’re looking for.

“So what, they want to put a stop to the Arts Center? They’re not the ones working hard for it. And quite frankly, I don’t need their help in any way to make it happen.”

Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief, anger manifesting in the way he clenches his jaw and groans repeatedly. It’s a sight you’re familiar with by now, and for the first time, you feel for him. It feels as if with this project, he doesn’t seem to have anyone on his side, aside from Hoseok, who’s been encouraging and helpful in many ways.

“They don’t want to stop it, son,” CEO Jeon says. “They’re merely questioning some of your decisions about the prices you’ve set out.”

“In short, they’re undermining me,” Jungkook groans. “This is my project. We’ve done the necessary research. If they read the report, they’d know. But clearly, they just want reasons to doubt all this, to doubt me.”

“It’s just the first project of its kind,” his father reasons. “The arts institution from 2017 was a collaboration and it wasn’t this big. The Arts Center just isn’t the usual commercial establishment that the VP office undertakes. The Board just wants to be clear about the profits because it’s not as straightforward as the others. They want to know how the property will earn.”

“Exhibition entrance tickets, bookings, rent,” Jungkook replies. “What’s not straightforward about that? Might as well say they don’t understand or even value arts and culture because that makes money, and if done right and respectfully, it can make a lot of money. I know what I’m doing.”

“It’s not like I didn’t make those points, son. It’s your first big project. I think they just—”

“Don’t believe I can manage it on my own.”

“They don’t think you can make the necessary connections on your own,” CEO Jeon finally says. “We all know how important that is. They doubt you’d be able to forge good relationships with professionals in an industry we don’t really have strong connections to. And with a project this big, it’s the company’s resources and reputation on the line.”

There’s silence in the room, as Jungkook seems to process the core issue that the Board has with him. You can tell it’s affecting him so much, as the anger in his eyes slowly turns into resignation.

It’s no secret that Jungkook’s way of engaging with others leaves a lot to be desired. From what you can see, he’s used to thinking more, envisioning, planning - the concepts and designs are amazing in his head and there are others tasked to sell that idea, to make it connect with people, to express why it matters, and to make sure it earns. That’s what Hoseok is good at; Jungkook never seemed like the type who enjoys that aspect of the work.

“You should’ve thought about my outstanding interpersonal skills before appointing me as Vice President, then,” he says bitterly. “Clearly that’s what the Board and everyone else value more than anything.”

“Hey, Kook. We know you’re good for this role,” Hoseok comforts. “And we believe in your project, we really do. Just focus on that. Make sure you’re constantly adjusting and refining the plans, and remind the Board that your ideas are even better when they’ve come to life. You’ve done it with your other projects before. Eventually you’ll be able to show them that you’re more than capable of forging relationships, too. That’ll come naturally. But in the meantime, you just have to give them something to make them believe it’ll be good for the company and our image in the long-run. Make them envision it.”

“I have,” Jungkook argues. “And I’ll keep doing that. I just need father to be on my side. I just need him to back me up, to trust me and every single one of my decisions.”

You’ve never heard desperation in Jungkook’s voice until today and you’re surprised with how much it’s affecting you, not just because you know how much effort he’s put into conceptualizing the place but because you’ve come to believe in it, too.

“Ms. Cho.”

CEO Jeon’s voice pulls you away from Jungkook, and you turn to the older man and ask if there’s anything he needs.

“Your thoughts,” he responds. “What would the Arts Center mean for the company? Do you think it will yield profits?”

They’re not questions that are new to you. Hoseok would often ask you these things about the smaller projects that go through him. CEO Jeon has asked you the same things in informal situations before, not so much to gain new insight - although he claims that your thoughts are interesting to him - but to gauge your belief in the project. He has a good read on people; you’ve observed him ask questions and pick apart not what they said but how they said it. You suppose that’s what he’s doing now, too.

“You’ve mentioned a few times that you want to expand the company’s market, Mr. Jeon,” you start. “And if I remember correctly, the Board agreed. Efforts to cater to expats and the middle class have been successful, but perhaps another type of expansion is in engaging the field of the arts and culture and its creators and consumers. More people from all walks of life and all over the world are gaining interest in Korean art and culture in all forms and the company has the resources to create a space for it. Like what the Vice President said, there’s an opportunity to earn from it while, of course, respecting it.”

You see CEO Jeon and Hoseok nod, a sight you’ve seen before as well. But Jungkook looks at you with curiosity, with a look of anticipation, as if he’s hanging onto every word you’re saying.

“The Arts Center was conceptualized and designed to be a hub for all things creative,” you continue. “Making general admission free makes the arts accessible to people, and once that appreciation grows, they’ll pay to see it, to experience it. Just go to any online forum and you’ll see that the public wants to experience art, not just observe it. They’d travel for it. The Center has spaces for that. I think that’s the ultimate goal - for anyone to be immersed in it. And that can happen through art pieces in a gallery or in a garden, through books, music, or spoken poetry, or even a photoshoot. Patrons can book rooms for private events, they can buy from the gift shop, they can do art themselves. It’s like a canvas and they can take part in creating meaning for the space. That’s what we’re selling. And that’s something people are willing to buy.”

“I see your point, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says, nodding satisfyingly at you. “And it’s a good one.”

“It’s what Mr. Jeon has been saying all this time,” you counter. “It’s easy to understand and to buy into the idea… if only the Board would listen to him. If only they’d open their mind to what he envisions.��

“Well, that’s one way to get through to them, then,” Hoseok voices out. “Invite them to the arts event, treat them like creators and consumers, not as Board members.”

“That’s a good idea,” CEO Jeon says. “Maybe then they can see how you engage with the guests, which I hope you’re working on. And while you’re at it, work on your relationship with them, too. That means initiating conversations, seeking them out… It's part of the job, son. The Board are our stakeholders, too, you know this.”

“Aren’t some of them based in Japan and Singapore?” You wonder aloud, hinting at another suggestion that you want would come from Jungkook himself, given his scheduled plans to fly there.

“Yeah. Maybe I can meet them the next time I go,” he says, picking up on your thoughts.

Jungkook isn’t really fond of engaging with them. He always just left the socializing part to his uncle who used to head the Southeast Asian office. When Jungkook would be in Seoul, he let his father, Hoseok, and Ji-woo deal with them, with nothing but an acknowledgment on his end. He tends to stay at the bar on his own just to drown out the sounds. Yoongi sometimes joins him but most times, Jungkook finds himself alone even during such events; being with a lot of people is tiring, lonesome, isolating. With this new role, he’s started to accept that he has to do more. It doesn’t mean he’ll enjoy it though.

“I’ll have that arranged for you,” you tell him.

“Well then, that’s one way to revamp your image,” the older man smiles. “You just have to keep that up moving forward. That’s why Ms. Cho is there. She’s used to these events and these engagements with them. You’ll be fine.”

You give a reassuring smile to Jungkook - a genuine one, as you see it’s what he needs, given all that you learned from today’s meeting. He merely nods, and you think that should be enough of an acknowledgment from his end.

Hoseok wraps it up, going through a few policy-related items and then reminding the other men about upcoming social gatherings that they all need to attend. He asks to briefly speak with Jungkook, whom he pulls aside, while the elder Mr. Jeon approaches you.

“Thank you for standing by Jungkook, Ms. Cho, especially since I haven’t been able to show my support the way I want to,” he says. “I know it hasn’t been easy.”

“It hasn’t, but he made me believe in his vision for the Center,” you respond. “I’m starting to see what he sees. And it’s quite beautiful.”

Jungkook overhears the exchange, as he zoned out on Hoseok once he heard his father address you.

It’s something that his cousin picks up, as he repeats what he just said, totally unbothered by it.

Hoseok, of all people, knows how important it is that you have Jungkook’s back. He also knows how difficult that must be for you, given how the man has been towards you all these weeks.

But you’re unwavering. You’re able to withstand the challenges, and while Hoseok knows that you do have a tendency to also allow yourself to suffer through it, he also knows you’ve learned, and you’ll stand your ground if you need to; he’ll back you up, and he can only hope you know that.

You all exit the private room of the restaurant and head back to the office across the street. It’s 4PM by the time you return to your desk, given that Jungkook called for a meeting with the management support team after what transpired during lunch.

You immediately work on the minutes and action points, finishing two hours later and then deciding that you’ll work on your next deliverable tomorrow.

Jungkook exits his room, informing you that he’ll be leaving for an early dinner with Hoseok at a nearby restaurant, and that Mr. Ri can drop you off at your place. You’ve contested the service that was offered to you, and you and Jungkook settled on a compromise that you can go home on your own except for late nights.

“Mr. Ri will just be waiting for me anyway. No harm in driving you home tonight,” Jungkook says, knowing you were about to turn down the offer.

“Okay, sir,” you reply.

You do last minute things and pack up immediately to go home, taking this chance to get proper rest because you know the last two days of the week are going to be tiring.

The next day, Jungkook does conference calls and closed-door meetings, leaving you to do summary reports and other administrative backlogs that have your eyebrows scrunched the entire day. If it wasn’t for Do-hyun reminding you about lunch that you promised to have with her, you would’ve totally forgotten.

You’re in the zone as you go through the afternoon - two meetings straight that have Jungkook rubbing his temples constantly and you doing the same. But you pop in some aspirin and ginseng jelly next to his cup of tea, feeling satisfied when he takes them.

You go home on time, not wanting to be offered a ride for a consecutive night, and you get proper rest to face the final day of the week.

It’s all going well, as you find a rhythm early on as you work on your deliverables while Jungkook remains focused on his own tasks. You’re the one who reminds him now to eat his lunch, and seeing the blueprints sprawled on his desk, you offer to buy him one yourself.

He nods in appreciation as you state his usual order for confirmation, and you eat your sandwich while waiting for his curry rice bowl in the food hall. You get back to your tasks, thankful for the unusually quiet and uneventful Friday.

You see now how hyper focused Jungkook could get. He’s got his blinds closed but you can tell that he’s immersed in his designs and proposals and plans. He’s not allowing calls or visitors, and he only rings you to ask for coffee, which you’ve given him four times so far. Towards the end of the day, you’re the one who asks to go in, informing him that the Board meeting has been moved to a week earlier than scheduled; it’s two Fridays from now, which means his team has to finalize everything soon.

It’s his first one since becoming Vice President, and given how he used to question you, you’re surprised when he asks your proposed timeline to prepare for the meeting.

“Manager Lee is already consolidating all the departmental reports,” you respond. “You can instruct him to finalize the VP report with all those by Wednesday; the presentation can be due on Friday so you can go through all of them. We can submit the report for CEO review the Monday after that and then you can prepare for your run through until the meeting.”

“Sounds good,” he replies. “I’ll send them an email with the instructions shortly.”

“Noted, sir,” you say. “I’ve also submitted the minutes of the past two days’ meetings as well as the policy guidelines you asked for.”

“Oh, right,” he says, taking his iPad. “I’ve looked through them. The minutes are good; you can disseminate them accordingly. I’ve highlighted the parts for the condensed version you’ll send to the CEO and the President. I also have minimal corrections and remarks on the policy guidelines and I’ve edited them directly on the file. Just proofread again and then affix my signature once you’ve finished.”

“Y—you’re done?” You ask. You hope he doesn’t pick up the shock in your voice.

“Yes, and I’ve read them. Thoroughly,” he answers.

You smile in embarrassment after the other day.

“Does that bother you?” He follows up.

“N-no, sir,” you say, knowing he’s waiting for an answer. “I guess I was expecting you to take longer because, you know, more comments. And you’ve been busy all day, too.”

“More comments… Is that what you’re expecting?”

“Sort of,” you admit. “I mean… you made a lot of them before.”

You pout in reflex as you realize how you sound. You’re basically pointing out how critical he used to be, and if you’re being honest, you do wish he still was. At least that tells you that he’s still the same, that no knowledge of your past experience with your former boss has made him change his disposition towards you.

Jungkook sees your pout, and he crosses his arms and legs to keep himself from doing something as stupid as wiping it off you. It’s a little disarming for him, if he’s being honest.

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” you clarify.

Liar, you think to yourself.

“Well, if I used to do it a lot and I still do that after a month in, wouldn’t it reflect poorly on you and me if you still haven’t learned from all that?” He asks.

You think about it and eventually nod. He does have a point.

“You’ve adapted. I’d be worried if you continued to do things the way you used to,” he adds.

You nod again, taking in all his words. Much as you appreciate them, there’s another thought still bugging you.

“May I be honest, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, your heart beating fast now as he looks at you curiously.

He nods anyway and asks you to continue.

“I don’t think you’d lower your standards or anything when it comes to my work,” you start. “So I don’t want to believe that you pity me just because you know what I experienced in the past.”

He looks at you questioningly, as if to ask what you’re talking about.

“I spotted Mrs. Byun’s files on your table,” you lie. “I assume you’ve read about how she treated me. And I… I don’t want to be pitied, Mr. Jeon. If it’s that, please don’t. Please don’t let it affect how you’d treat me. It wasn’t even that bad—”

“It was,” he interjects. “This company doesn’t tolerate people who abuse their power. I only knew about your case because I’m thorough with my work. And that includes looking into my staff and their past. I did it for everyone,” he lies as well.

Hoseok and Yoongi had mentioned something about a past experience and Jungkook did dig deep. It was so he could help you professionally, he convinced himself.

“You should also know that I don’t make compromises when it comes to the quality of work of my staff and that means I don’t pity people if they fail to meet my standards. But I suppose you think that I do because of how I was in the beginning,” he continues, surprising you. “I admit I was being too critical. And I don’t have an excuse, just that I absolutely hate change. I’m not good at managing it and I reacted in a way that I’m used to, which is not a good way at all. I know now that I was not fair to you.”

The apology doesn’t come, but you know that the admission means enough already. It’s definitely taken a huge burden off of you. You didn’t dream up all those incidents and it wasn’t entirely on you. That itself gives you relief.

“My father and cousin were right. You’re a fast learner. You pick up on the comments, work on them immediately, and adjust accordingly. It’s a good trait to have, Ms. Cho.”

“I appreciate that, Mr. Jeon.”

“May I be honest, too?” He asks, surprising you again.

You nod, anticipating what he’d say, knowing he’s never been this quiet nor looked this nervous in all these weeks you’ve known him.

“What you said to my father about the Arts Center the other day, I appreciate that, too,” he says. “I guess you could’ve said something general or basic but you didn’t.”

“Your father wouldn’t have minded what I said,” you reply. “What mattered was how I said it. I guess as the person who’s privy to a lot of things about the project, he sincerely wanted to know what I thought about it, if I genuinely believed in it.”

“Well, it was a good way to convince him. And it seemed like he believed you.”

“I’m not a good actor, Mr. Jeon,” you chuckle. “He believed it because I meant it. And he saw that I was on your side. As I should. I still meant it, though.”

“That’s… encouraging,” he huffs. “At least one person is.”

“I’m sure he does, too.”

“It’s ironic that people like Mr. Ri think that my father and I are so alike, yet we don’t see eye to eye most of the time.”

“It’s because you are alike. You both think you’re right all the time,” you joke, teetering on the edge and sighing in relief when he laughs, a sound you don’t think you’ve ever heard.

“You make a good point,” he smiles a tiny bit, something you also don’t think you’ve ever seen him do. “But I’m still adjusting to working directly with him, and in a bigger role, too. We'll probably butt heads a lot.”

“You will. I already know it. In fact, I can already see it,” you laugh again.

It’s a moment you share with him that you didn’t imagine you ever would. He’s being honest about his concerns and you’re giving comfort in the way you know how and neither of you seems to mind.

“I’m… I’m gonna need your help, Ms. Cho,” he says so softly, his eyes turning away from you. “I’m gonna need your assistance. Not just in seeing the Arts Center through but in everything - navigating this role, dealing with my father, dealing with people. I… I know what I’m good at. So I don’t really focus on the things I don’t do well in but this position forces me to confront those and I… I’ll need help.”

For someone who doesn’t seem to like being vulnerable in front of others, seeing this side of Jungkook makes you sympathetic. The soft tone of his voice, the lack of eye contact, the crossed arms… they’re familiar because it’s how you are, and you know it’s difficult to be this honest with another person, especially when it’s about what you need.

More than wanting to help him because it’s your job, you find yourself wanting to see him succeed, too, to see him manage it all. That way, when you do eventually leave the company and search whatever it is you’re looking for, you can rest easy knowing that he’ll be okay, that the team will be okay, that the Arts Center will be all that he imagined it to be.

“I’m here, Mr. Jeon,” you assure him. “I’ll do my best to provide you with the assistance you need.”

“Thank you,” he mutters, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say those words with such sincerity to you, too.

You bow in acknowledgement and head out, leaving Jungkook in a haze, as he realizes that in your presence, he’d done what he's been trying to avoid ever since you walked in his life - be honest. He’d told you his concerns, his needs, and it seems that his honesty is something you appreciated as well. There was that acceptance that he wouldn’t have expected from you, not because you aren’t the type to give it but because he hasn’t given you a reason to. But you gave it regardless; you let him feel that it was okay.

It’s another half hour before he’s packing up to head home. It’s been a tiring week and he just wants to have a long bath, watch sports, and drink a cold beer over grilled meat. He’ll probably get some work done but maybe he’ll drive to some resort out of town, have a good workout, get in a sauna, and have a massage. He’ll have a nice meal with his friends and then go to a club. Or maybe he’ll just stay in. There’s something about being honest that makes him want to keep to himself for a while. He’ll start with that tonight, as he turns down Taehyung’s invite to another one of his client’s party.

Jungkook walks out and sees your desk empty, but he does hear your voice coming from the management support team’s room, telling them about your weekend plans as well.

“I’m going to the film festival in Incheon,” you say. “And probably just stay at a hostel.”

“Are you going by yourself?” Do-hyun asks.

“Uh, yeah,” you reply.

Hajoon was supposed to go with you. He invited himself, actually, and you should’ve read into the fact that he’d wanted to experience your interests with you. You hadn’t minded, and that’s clearly out of the picture now.

“I usually go to them by myself,” you add.

“Well, if you decide you want to invite one of us or hang out, you can always let us know,” Chin-sun teases, knowing you probably won’t.

“Let’s wait until we’re not too tired and busy, okay?” You chuckle. “That way, we can afford to do whatever we want on the weekends.”

“Yup, that’ll probably never happen,” Do-hyun pouts. “When are we not tired and busy? It’s probably worse this time because we don’t get to laugh and joke around like we used to. Are we even getting a holiday? Will we have an out-of-town team building? Or dinners and karaoke like how Mr. Jung used to treat us to?”

“The team-building is budgeted so yes, we’ll have it,” you tell them. “And dinners? I can maybe suggest that to Mr. Jeon. And come on, no one’s stopping you from laughing or joking around. You can still do all that.”

“Yeah, but sometimes I feel like I’m not allowed to because it might seem like I’m not serious about my job because our boss is too serious and it doesn’t seem right,” Do-hyun whines.

And for the first time, you feel genuinely bad for how they think about Jungkook. You don’t blame them though, but the man you saw earlier who broke into a small smile is definitely capable of laughter; you just don’t know how to elicit it from him again.

“He’s just been under a lot of pressure, but he doesn’t prohibit you from finding joy in anything,” you say. “Just… give him some time, okay? He’ll come around. Let’s just focus on our work and then focus on ourselves when the weekend comes. So all of you, pack up now and go home to your families and your pets. We’ve got a long few weeks ahead.”

Jungkook hears a collective okay then heads out right away, the initial thought of saying goodbye to the team having dissipated. He can’t blame them for voicing out their frustrations over the change in how they’re being managed. Hoseok was loved. He built a competent team whose spirit Jungkook is afraid he’s now breaking. But he’s not like his cousin, and he doesn’t know how to reach out to them in a way that’s genuine. He let the pressure get to him too much early on and while he’s not the type to forge connections with his staff, he’s seeing now how important it is for him as Vice President to do that.

But it’s too much to think about for today. He’ll let this affect him a little bit and then figure things out. Based on what he heard though, he’s not on his own. You were on his side again, even when you thought he wasn’t around. There’s something about the way you stand up to him and stand by him that’s refreshing. There’s honesty there, too, and he’s learning that it’s what he needs.

He makes it to the elevator but then holds the door once he hears rapid footsteps. You mutter your thanks as you enter, and he feels the tension build as you’re together after the exchange earlier. He hasn’t gotten over that yet, so he’s unsure how to talk with you.

It seems like so are you, as you drum your fingers on the strap of your bag and focus on the door while you both wait to make it to the ground floor. Jungkook is tempted to offer you a ride with him but he decides against it. Even then, he slows his steps so he could walk alongside you, as you both head out the main doors.

“Get some rest, Mr. Jeon,” you finally say. “And have a good weekend.”

You look at him with sincerity in your eyes, your smile soft and assuring, something he’s never seen you direct at him before. It’s even different from earlier. There’s more understanding, he thinks. Perhaps there’s care.

“You, too, Ms. Cho,” he replies before entering the car. “Get home safely.”

You bow to him and wave at Mr. Ri before walking down the pathway to the street that leads towards the bus stop.

Jungkook lets himself be comfortable in the seat while he forces the image of your smile out of his head. The sun has set and it’s Seoul at its busiest on another hot Friday evening. There are more cars than usual and so movement is slow, but that’s how he sees you - walking down the sidewalk in the midst of all these people. And there you are, somehow looking at peace. There’s an air of isolation that surrounds you, but you don’t look lonely. Just… alone. There’s still that warmth in your eyes and your smile that he finds himself wanting to see more of.

This is when he realizes he might be in trouble. There’s a line he shouldn’t cross, but there’s this desire to get to know you, to know your thoughts and your feelings and your words. He reminds himself that he needs you, in a way that an authority figure needs support and assistance. He needs you to be focused and capable, and he needs to be the same.

With his attraction that he can’t get over, he knows that the only way to make sure that he keeps things professional is to keep his distance - not just physically, but more so emotionally. You’ll definitely be spending more time together and he needs to constantly remind himself of who you are and who he is. That much as he feels safe and honest with you, he can’t go any further; he can’t let you get any closer. He doesn’t know how he’ll do it, but that’s one other thing he’ll figure out.

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook x oc #jungkook series #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #boss jungkook

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harunayuuka2060 · 1 year ago

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Diavolo: *reading MC's resignation letter*

Diavolo: ...

Diavolo: What's the reason, MC? You've been doing so well.

MC: *gives him a tired smile* I am exhausted. That's the only reason I have.

Diavolo: Then I'll give you days to rest. I won't approve this resignation.

MC: ...

MC: I would ask you to reconsider.

Diavolo: ...

Barbatos: MC, the young master has his priorities in line. Would you mind waiting for his answer?

MC: ...

MC: I'll try. Please excuse me. *then takes their leave*

Diavolo: ...

Diavolo: What happened to them, Barbatos?

Barbatos: It seems you haven't received the news yet, my lord. Regarding the recent event.

Diavolo: What is it?

MC: *is finishing up all the remaining work in the House Of Lamentation*

The brothers (except Lucifer): *who have been observing them*

Asmo: Mammon, this is your chance now to apologize. You too, Levi, Belphie.

Mammon: Wh-Why do I need to apologize?! It was their fault they got shoved off the railing!

Mammon: They could've used their magic to stop us, y'know!

Satan: Mammon, you idiot—

MC: ...

MC: *walks silently to the other room*

Mammon: ...

Levi: I think they're still mad...

Belphie: We should let them cool down first. I'll approach them when they're no longer mad at us.

Beel: I'll buy them some food. That will make them feel better.

Asmo: Mammon, your only job is to apologize and you can't do it right.

Asmo: Why do you always have to use that non-existent pride of yours? It's getting annoying.

Mammon: Huh?! Who's annoying?!

MC: *enters Lucifer's study*

Lucifer: MC—

MC: I'm done with all the chores.

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: I see. Why don't you take a seat first?

MC: I would like to, but we would only be wasting each other's time.

MC: I'm only here to inform you that I will not be working here starting tomorrow.

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: Diavolo didn't approve your resignation.

MC: But that can't stop me from leaving.

Lucifer: MC, you're being unreasonable right now.

MC: Maybe I am. Though I can't deny to myself that I'm really exhausted.

MC: I'm exhausted from all of this.

MC: All I want is to leave and get away.

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: If it is the power you need, I'll give it to you.

MC: ...

MC: I've already given up on that.

MC: I choose to be an ordinary human this time.

Lucifer: ...

Solomon: ...

Solomon: You're just going to leave me?

MC: I'm sorry, Solomon. You must be disappointed with me right now.

Solomon: ...

Solomon: No. I was never disappointed and never will be.

Solomon: I understand why you're doing this.

Solomon: *hugs MC* However, if it's fine with you, I want to join you in the human world.

Solomon: This is a different timeline. And I want to keep you safe.

MC: ...

MC: *hugs him back* Wouldn't it be great if I could really take you with me?

Solomon: MC...

MC: Thank you, Solomon. I won't ever forget you.

Barbatos: Are you certain about your decision?

MC: Yes.

Barbatos: ...

Barbatos: You're aware that I would never disobey the young master.

MC: *smiles* I apologize for the trouble, Barbatos.

MC: I hope one day, I can make it up to you.

Barbatos: ...

Barbatos: *smiles back* I'll be hoping for that as well.

Solomon: ...

Solomon: MC? What happened to you?

MC: *forced a smile* I had an accident. *has an injured leg*

Solomon: You should've called me instead of forcing yourself to walk here.

MC: ...

MC: Solomon, it's completely gone now.

Solomon: *looks at them, shocked* What?

MC: I almost died today. The brothers got rowdy again and... I accidentally got pushed off the railing. *chuckles* Good thing there was a soft cushion below.

Solomon: MC...

MC: ...

MC: If only you have seen their confused faces...

Solomon: ...

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me brothers

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 8 months ago

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Mommy Can We Play?

Sugar Mommy!Agatha Harkness x Wanda Maximoff x Sugar baby!fem!reader

Summary: Wanda's come over for a business meeting with Mommy, but when it comes time for goodbyes you can't let go.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Mommy kink, R calls A Mommy, A calls R Princess, strap use, praise kink, oral (R give A a blowjob, straps are referred to as cocks, Polyamory, Wanda uses various Russian pet names

Word count: 1.7K

A/N: This just festered in my brain for no particular reason and then when I started writing didn't want to come out, but I did it so here you go everyone enjoy more of these two plus Wanda

The warm early summer breeze blew through the windows of Agatha's home. She requested if you weren't going to go outside at least keep the windows open so you could get some fresh air. So you did as asked and opened all of the living room windows and the back sliding glass door was opened all the way for a nice cross breeze to come through.

The calming sounds of animal crossing played through your switch lite as you lay tummy down on the expense and rather wide sectional Agatha had chosen for the living room. A pillow helped prop you up and various snacks adorned the square wooden coffee table along with three different half drunken drinks. Agatha always wanted you to have water especially as the summer months rolled around, but you insisted on also having some sort of juice for taste and an energy drink for caffeine. Agatha wasn't a fan of it, but you had promised to limit the intake to one and drink it slowly through the day with the others.

Agatha had been working from home a business meeting with Wanda which meant you were to be quiet and not bother her hence the switch, snacks, and drinks all in reach. Your mind completely focused on your game as you terraformed your island; your tongue poking out ever so slightly. You're so focused on your game you don't hear the two older women come down from the office or that Wanda is right in front of you until she's bending down. Her finger hooking under your chin,

“Milaya, is your game that enthralling you can't even get up to say goodbye?” Wanda's husky voice hits your ears and suddenly it feels ice cold in here. The rings on her fingers helped none with the cold feeling washing over you. Your voice sputters to form a sentence.

“Your baby really is so cute, Aggie. I love making her like this. You should reconsider letting me play with her.” Wanda cooed. Your body finally caught up, your switch flying from your hand, crashing back to the couch as you flung your body backwards to the corner of the sectional. Your body shook and breathing felt hard.

“Princess you're okay. Sorry Wands when she's engrossed in something if you get too close it scares her.” Wanda didn't acknowledge Agatha other than slowly approaching you,

“I'm sorry Detka. I didn't mean to scare you.” Wanda sat down near you, giving you enough space, holding out her hand as if you were a scared pup.

When your breathing evened you leaned over, setting your chin in her palm just as you would for Agatha. You eyes looking up at Wanda's sea green eyes, the more you looked the more it reminded you more of sea glass reflecting back at you. If Agatha's eyes were the ocean forever drowning you in love, Wanda's eyes were those small moments of joy you'd get when you'd find a really nice piece of sea glass.

You liked when Wanda would come by, Agatha had her over for work meetings, thought sessions, and dinners. You had heard stories that back when Wanda had first joined the company the two actually hated each other. You couldn't see that now with how close the two women were. Wanda was over here at least once a week if not more depending on that week's deadlines.

Being with Agatha for close to a year Wanda's presence had become just as comforting as Agatha's. You'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't thought about those ringed fingers deep inside your mouth or your sopping wet cunt. That accented voice giving commands from above as those green eyes looked more like black holes ready to swallow you whole.

Your help tilted slightly in Wanda's touch as the heat of your cheek warmed both her digits and rings up. One of your hands coming up to play with her rings. Wanda knew of your love of rings just as much as she loved them. She had given you a ring after coming back from a business trip. She had also gotten something for Agatha, but a ring felt intimate. You couldn't explain why and after she gave it to you it back one you wore almost daily. That was something Wanda had taken notice of and since then had made more and more advances towards you, but today it seemed all three of you were feeling bold.

You opened your mouth and let your lips wrap around her thumb, slowly taking it into your mouth as you watched the lust take over her features. Her other hand found its way to your thigh, rubbing and squeezing gently. You hadn't noticed Agatha until she was sitting just behind Wanda.

“I think she's ready, dear.” You heard Agatha's voice call out and your eyes moved to hers. A look you'd seen many times before.

“Peash Mama.” You managed to speak around Wanda's thumb who slowly let it slip back out.

“Please what princess? What is it you're asking?” Agatha did a little head tilt, feigning innocence as she did when she wanted you to use your words though they tend to slip away when you want something like this.

“Please Mommy want to be taken by both of you.” Your eyes pleaded with Agatha who you knew couldn’t resist that look; she never could.

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Drool ran down your chin to your neck and down the valley of your breasts before dripping off your nipple. A shiver was sent down your spine that was currently arched. Your mouth held open by Agatha’s strap, your favorite one hitting the back of your throat. Every thrust that Wanda was giving with her own strap made Agatha’s move back and forth. Gags and choked moans coming out of you which only produced more drool. Your mind was a hazy mess and you felt like you were swimming even more than usual which made sense with the added factor of Wanda.

“Oh Detka taking my cock so well, can’t wait to see you cum all over it.” Wanda’s breathy voice made it’s way to your ears. All you wanted to do was look back at the Sokovian, but with Agatha trapping you it wouldn’t be a thing anytime soon.

When Agatha finally did slip out of your mouth you took the opportunity to push yourself up into Wanda as your head hit the mattress. Your face turning so your could look at her with hair slicked back from sweat, hips hitting into you at a brutal pace. Her nails dug into your hips and the grip she had was sure to leave bruises, but none of it mattered to you.

Right now her being buried so deep inside felt amazing. The strap Wanda packed with felt just as good as the one you called your favorite. It filled you up in all the right spots. The loud moans and screams being freed from your mouth, her name spilling past your lips only pushed her further to the edge as you looked back up to Agatha who was watching the two of you. She was watching your pleasure, your pain and enjoyed every moment of it.

“Go on Princess. I know that look. Cum for Wanda.” Your head looked back to Wanda, normally Agatha’s permission was all you needed, but you had to ask,

“Can I Wanda? Can I please cum on your cock?” You asked. Her head snapping up, eyes meeting and you could see she was about to fall with you. The quick rise and fall of her chest, her eager thrusts, the grip tightening on your hips.

“Cum with me Milaya.” That was it the push over the edge that you needed. The coil finally snapping as you were sent over the edge with her deep thrusts. How did she manage to get deeper? You could feel yourself tighten around her. Effectively making her rut against you as she fell moments after you, moaning out in Sokovian, strings of expletive's you assumed as your head drowned in pleasure.

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“You did so good for me.” Wanda’s voice was softer than you’d ever heard before. You were cocooned against her, unwilling to let go. Agatha had gone of to get your aftercare items. Wanda’s fingers now without all her rings ran through your hair softly. Continued whispered praises until Agatha came back, breaking the bond of the two of you.

“Here princess drink.” Your tumblr you’d filled this morning with ice water was handed to you which you cradled against you. A few big sips and you were trying to hand it back off, but Wanda gently tapped your cheek.

“Few more Milaya.” She insisted, so you did until another gentle tap came. You looked up to see the red head with a smile on her face. “All done.” Her tone almost sounded as if she were talking to a child. Agatha took the bottle from you, setting it on the side table. You settled back in against Wanda as the two older women talked. The Sokovian’s fingers softly scratching at your scalp while Agatha’s fingers were drawing patterns in your back.

“It seems she likes you.” Agatha had a smile on her face, your eyes were closed, but you knew how her voice sounded when she was smiling. “You should join us more often.” The suggestion came and your ears perked up. You eyes fluttered open, looking up at Wanda who was looking down at you.

“Would you like that malyshka?” She asked you, your teeth finding their way to biting your bottom lip with a smile threatening to break your face as you nodded. Wanda smiled, pulling your bottom lip from the hold your teeth had on it. “Words krasivaya devushka.” Her thumb brushed your lips, they were calling your name once more taking it into your mouth, through your lashes you looked up at Wanda.

“Yesh peash.” You mumbled around her thumb. It was enough for the two older women who simply nodded at each other. It didn’t elude you when the two women shifted ever so slightly so their hands were touching. A smile on your face as your eyes closed and sleep soon took over with thoughts of a next time playing through your mind.

#ley speaks #ley writes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha x reader #agatha harkness #sugar baby!reader #sugar mommy!agatha

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raekensluver · 2 months ago

Text

forbidden cravings

description: when taking a late night walk in the summer heat turns into an unforgettable night with your enemy theo raeken...you're not sure how to continue.

pairing: enemy!theo raeken x stilinski!werewolf!fem!reader

contains: 18+, Minors DNI, hate sex, mentions of theo's betrayal, unprotected sex, p in v, squirting, car sex

song rec: renegade by aaryan shah- "oh, should've listened to them. oh, don't you know what i am?"

w.c: 4.5k

an: i of course had to write a fic with my og man. my original theodore. everything started with him. also this has been sitting in my drafts for foreverrrr and i need it gone.

the moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the deserted streets of beacon hills. a warm breeze whispered through the full branches of the trees, the heat sending an uncomfortable wave through your body. in the quiet, the distant hum of a car engine grew louder, interrupting the rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath your boots.

the headlights of theo raeken's blue pickup truck pierced the darkness as it approached, the engine purring like a wild beast stalking its prey. theo, a werewolf-coyote chimera, had a history of betrayal and violence that had earned him a place on your enemy list. but tonight, the universe played a cruel trick, making you reconsider your preconceptions.

you watched him roll down the window, the coolness of the car's interior briefly escaping into the warm night air. "it's going to be hot tonight," he called out, his voice a stark contrast to the harshness of his reputation. "want a ride home?" you hesitated, stiles' warnings echoed in your mind, but something in theo's eyes—a glimmer of sincerity, perhaps—held you there.

"i don't trust you," you spat, your voice sharp . theo's smile was a sly curve in the shadows. "trust has to be earned," he replied, "but i'm just offering a refreshing, cool ride, not a knife in the back." you searched his gaze, looking for the usual deceit, but all you found was a hint of desperation. maybe he wasn't all bad. maybe.

"stiles would kill me," you said, your voice softer now, but the warning was clear. theo's eyes narrowed, and for a second, you saw a flash of anger. "stiles doesn't have to know," he said, his voice low and persuasive. "just this once, let's not let him dictate your choices." something in his words resonated with you, the desire for a moment of rebellion against the cautious world you've built around yourself.

you clenched your fists, weighing the risks and the crisp coolness of the truck against the scorching embrace of the night. "fine," you finally relented, sliding into the passenger seat. the door shut with a thud that echoed through the quiet. the shill from the vents washed over you, a stark contrast to the warming grip of the night outside. theo's smirk was victory in motion as he put the truck into gear and pulled away from the curb.

the silence between you was thick, filled with unspoken tension and the roar of the engine. the town lights grew distant, swallowed by the darkness of the surrounding woods. you studied theo's profile, the sharp line of his jaw and the way his eyes flickered to the rearview mirror. every muscle in your body was taut, ready to spring into action if needed.

his hand rested on the gearstick, tapping a rhythm that matched the pulse hammering in your ears. "so, how's scott?" he asked, his tone casual, but the mention of scott sent a spike of anger through you. "why do you care?" you shot back, the memory of his betrayal still fresh.

theo's eyes stayed on the road, his grip tightening slightly. "because i know i hurt him," he said, his voice heavy with a mix of regret and defiance. "i want to make amends, but i know i've got a long way to go." his honesty was disarming, and you felt your anger waver. "you've got more than a long way," you murmured, staring out the window at the passing trees.

the truck rumbled on, the tension in the vehicle was palpable. without looking at you, theo spoke again. "i've changed, you know." his words hung in the air like a challenge, a question wrapped in a declaration. you bit your lip, torn between the urge to believe him and the fear that he was playing another game.

finally, you turned to face him. "prove it," you said, your eyes searching his. theo's gaze met yours, and for a moment, you saw something raw and vulnerable in the depths of his pupils. without another word, he pulled the truck over into a clearing, the headlights cutting through the night to reveal a breathtaking view of beacon hills sprawled out beneath the moon.

he killed the engine, the sudden silence amplifying the thud of your heart. the cool leather of the seat sent a shiver down your spine as the coolness of the cabin faded. "how do you want me to prove it?" he asked, his voice low and rough. the question hung in the air, laden with a tension that was no longer just hostility.

you leaned back in your seat, arms crossed over your chest. "i don't know," you said, the words coming out more as a challenge than a genuine inquiry. theo turned to you, his eyes searching your face in the moonlight. "i want to help," he said, his voice earnest. "i want to be on the right side this time."

his hand reached out, hovering near your arm but not quite touching. you felt the electricity of his proximity, a reminder of the power he wielded. the air grew thick with a scent that was both enticing and dangerous—his wolf. your own wolf stirred, curious despite your wariness. "fine," you said, your voice tight with tension. "prove it."

you watched as he took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling in the dim light. then, without warning, he leaned in, his mouth brushing against yours. it was a gentle touch, a question rather than a demand. your instincts roared, a mix of desire and anger, but instead of pushing him away, you found yourself leaning into the kiss. it grew deeper, more urgent, until your hands were tangled in his hair and you could taste the desperation in his kiss.

theo's hand slid down to your waist, pulling you closer, and you realized that the heat between you had nothing to do with the air pouring from the truck. your body responded in ways it never should have with an enemy, your heart racing as his teeth grazed your bottom lip. you bit back a gasp, your nails digging into his skin as the need for more grew unbearable.

without breaking the kiss, theo reached for the seatbelt, his movements deft and sure. the cool metal clicked open, and you were on him, straddling his lap, your thighs pressing against his, your hands roaming his body. his own were equally as hungry, sliding up your back, tangling in your hair, pulling you closer. the scent of your combined arousal filled the truck, the air thick with it.

but as your passion grew, so did the anger, a burning ember at the base of your spine. you pulled back, breathing heavily, your eyes flashing with the light of the moon. "you tried to kill him," you whispered, your voice a mix of pain and fury. "scott trusted you, and you stabbed him in the back."

theo's eyes searched yours, a hint of regret flickering in their depths. "i know," he murmured, his hands still on your hips. "i know what i did was unforgivable. but i'm not that person anymore."

you didn't answer, the anger still simmering beneath the surface. "scott trusted you," you said, your voice laced with venom. "he believed in you, and you betrayed him." your nails dug into his shoulders, drawing a hiss from his lips. "you didn't just hurt him," you continued, "you hurt all of us. stiles, malia, kira, everyone."

theo's eyes narrowed, his grip on your hips tightening. "you're not exactly innocent, either," he murmured, his voice a dark whisper. "you've killed, you've lied, you've done things you're not proud of." he leaned in, his breath hot against your neck. "we're not so different, you and i."

you flinched at his words, the truth of them stinging like the cold air outside. but you weren't about to let him off the hook. "i've never betrayed my pack," you snarled, your wolf's eyes flashing in the darkness. "i've never pretended to be someone's friend just to stab them in the back."

his eyes searched yours, the steel blues of his irises shimmering with a hint of something that might have been understanding. "maybe not," he said, his voice low. "but you've killed." his words were a challenge, a reminder of the beast that lurked within you both.

you felt your fangs elongate, the rage bubbling up inside you. "that's different," you snarled. "i've never done it out of spite." theo's eyes narrowed, his grip on your hips loosening slightly. "semantics," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "we're all just trying to survive in this messed up world."

you stared at him, the weight of his words settling in your chest. "maybe," you conceded, the anger in your voice fading. "but that doesn't mean we can't be better." you leaned in, your teeth grazing his neck, feeling the pulse of his veins beneath the skin. "prove it," you whispered again, your breath hot against his ear. theo's eyes flashed with something primal, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing your skirt higher.

"i'll prove it," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "just tell me what you want." the challenge in his tone sent a thrill through you. "i want you to show me," you breathed, your voice low and needy.

his hands slid further up, his thumbs brushing against the lacy fabric of your panties. you gasped as he hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled them down, the cold air making you shiver. theo didn't miss a beat, his mouth moving to your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. you felt his fangs graze your neck, a promise of what was to come.

his hand slipped between your legs, his fingers exploring the warm, wet heat of your cunt. you bit your lip to keep from crying out, the sensation sending bolts of pleasure through your body. he groaned, the sound sending vibrations through your chest. "you want this," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "you want me."

you didn't deny it. the truth was, you did. you wanted him in a way that went beyond logic, beyond the hate and anger that had fueled you for so long. you moaned softly, the sound a confession that felt like a betrayal to your pack. your eyes narrowed as they met his, a silent challenge. theo's hand moved faster, his thumb circling your clit, and you bucked against him, desperate for more.

his other hand slid up your torso, his fingers tracing the line of your bra before deftly unclipping it. your breasts spilled out, the cool, conditioned air making your nipples tighten into peaks. he took one in his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, and you moaned, your nails digging into his back. the pain was a sweet release, mixing with the pleasure until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

his cock was hard against your thigh, and you could feel the throb of his desire matching the pulse of your own. your hands slid down his chest, his abs tightening under his shirt beneath your touch. your hand slid further, stroking him through his jeans. theo groaned, his hips bucking up to meet your hand.

you broke the kiss, panting. "we can't do this here," you murmured, your voice thick with lust. "someone could see." theo's eyes searched yours, the hunger in them unmistakable. "the backseat," he said, his voice a rough growl. "it's more private."

you nodded, the desire to feel him inside you overwhelming. you climbed off his lap and into the backseat, the cold leather sending a shiver down your spine. theo followed, his movements fluid and predatory. the dome light cast a soft glow over the cramped space, highlighting the stark lines of his face and the bulge in his jeans.

once there, he didn't waste any time. he yanked his shirt over his head, revealing the tapestry of scars that mapped his chest and abs. you took in the sight, a mix of anger and desire churning in your stomach. his eyes never left yours as he unbuckled his belt, the sound of the zipper echoing through the truck.

his hand found yours, guiding it to his cock. you felt the heat of him, the steel-like hardness that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. you stroked him through his boxers, feeling him throb in your grip. his eyes fell closed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "you're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice hoarse with need.

you leaned in, your mouth capturing his, your tongues dancing in a fierce battle of passion and anger. as you kissed, your hand worked faster, the friction driving him wild. his hips bucked up, his cock straining against the fabric. you could feel the tension in his body, the tight coil of desire that matched your own.

theo's hand slid down, his fingers finding your wetness again. you gasped into his mouth as he slid a finger inside you, his thumb circling your clit with a practiced touch. your hips moved in sync with his hand, the pleasure building, the anger fading into the background. he broke the kiss, his breath hot against your cheek. "tell me again that you want this," he whispered, his voice a desperate plea.

you bit back a retort, your breath coming in short, sharp pants. "i don't have to tell you anything," you said, your voice filled with snark. "you can feel it." theo's eyes searched yours, the hunger in them unmistakable. "but i want to hear it," he said, his voice a dark caress. "i want to know that you're not just letting me fuck you because you're mad at me."

you didn't respond, the anger and lust inside you fighting for dominance. but as his hand moved faster, his finger sliding in and out of you, you couldn't hold back. "yes," you moaned, the word torn from your throat. "yes, i want this." it was a declaration, a surrender, and a challenge all rolled into one.

theo's eyes flashed with triumph, his hand moving faster. you could feel yourself climbing, the pressure building. your nails dug into his back, leaving trails of red. "good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "now, let's make this interesting."

he pulled away, his hand leaving you feeling empty and desperate. you watched as he shucked his boxers, his cock springing free. it was thick and hard, the tip glistening with precum. "now, spread your legs," he said, his smile predatory.

you couldn't help the snarl that curled your lips. "you think you can just fuck your way into my good graces?" you spat, your anger a living thing that thrummed through your veins. theo's eyes glinted with amusement. "i'm not looking for your good graces," he said, his voice low and seductive. "just your body."

his words were like a slap in the face, and you felt the anger bubble up again. "fine," you said, your voice filled with spite. "you want to fuck me like a whore in the back of your truck? go ahead." you leaned back, watching him with a challenge in your eyes. "but it won't change anything between us."

theo's expression darkened, the playfulness draining from his features. "you think you're so high and mighty," he murmured, his voice a dangerous growl. "but you're just as much a monster as I am." he leaned over you, his cock brushing against your thigh. "i'm not looking for forgiveness," he said, his voice a low snarl. "i'm looking for a way to show you that i'm not the same person who hurt scott."

you met his gaze, your eyes flashing with defiance. "then prove it," you whispered, your voice a challenge. "make me believe you're not the same asshole who tried to kill my friends." theo's eyes narrowed, his hand sliding up to your neck. "i will," he said, his voice a promise.

you leaned up, your teeth bared, and sank them into his shoulder. the taste of his skin was intoxicating, the coppery tang of his blood mixing with the scent of his arousal. he groaned, his grip on your neck tightening, his fingers digging into your flesh. "you're just as much of a monster as i am," he murmured, his voice strained with pleasure. "you can't deny it."

you pulled back, licking the blood from your teeth. "i'm not a monster," you hissed, the denial a lie that even you didn't believe. your wolf was close to the surface, eager to claim what was yours. "but if you want to play this game," you continued, your voice a seductive purr, "i'll play."

theo's eyes flashed with excitement, you felt the head of his cock nudge against your entrance, and you couldn't help the whimper that escaped your throat.

his hand slammed into the seat beside you, the leather squeaking in protest. "you're going to scream my name," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "you're going to come so hard you'll forget you ever hated me." your anger flared, but it was quickly swallowed by the need that pulsed through you. "you wish," you murmured, your voice a challenge.

his cock slid into you, the sensation of fullness making you gasp. theo's eyes never left yours, watching for any sign of weakness. you clenched around him, your body fighting for control even as your orgasm built. "fuck you," you breathed, your voice tight with need. "you're not going to win this."

his thrusts grew harder, more demanding. "we'll see about that," he murmured, his teeth grazing your jaw. "you're already losing it." you bit back a moan, your nails digging into his back. "you think this means something?" you ground out, your hips moving to meet his. "i'm just using you."

theo's smile was pure arrogance. "keep telling yourself that," he said, his voice thick with pleasure. "but your body's telling a different story." his fingers found your clit, rubbing it with a merciless precision that had you gasping for breath. "you're going to come for me," he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours. "you're going to scream my name."

you clenched your jaw, your eyes squeezed shut. the pressure inside you was unbearable, a maelstrom of pleasure and anger. "never," you gritted out, your voice strained. but your body had other plans. with each thrust, with each caress of his thumb, you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. your nails dug into his back, drawing blood, but he didn't flinch. "you're mine," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. "you're going to come for me."

you could feel it, the wave building, the inevitable climax that washed over you despite your resistance. "fuck," you moaned, the sound a mix of pleasure and despair. your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your body spasming around his cock. you screamed his name, the sound echoing through the clearing. your claws raked down his back, leaving a trail of crimson in their wake. theo's eyes went wild, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "yes," he hissed, his voice a mix of triumph and desire. "you're mine."

his cock twitched inside you, and you could feel his own orgasm approaching. "no," you panted, your voice a mix of anger and pleasure. "i'm no one's." but your words were lost in the moment, the truth of them buried beneath the passion that consumed you both. his teeth sank into your shoulder, the pain a sweet release that only served to intensify your pleasure.

theo's hand tightened around your neck once more as his hips slammed into yours, and you felt yourself go over the edge. your pussy spasmed around him, your juices flooding his cock as you squirted with the force of your climax. "theo," you screamed, the sound a mix of ecstasy and anger. your claws raked down his back, leaving deep furrows in his skin. he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours.

his thrusts grew erratic, his own orgasm close. you could feel the tension in his body, the desperation in his eyes as he chased his release. "that's it," he murmured, his voice a dark caress. "let go for me." you clenched around him, your nails digging deeper, drawing more blood. the previous wounds you had inflicted on him were gone, healed by his supernatural powers. the pain was a sweet release, a reminder of the control you had in this moment.

his abs were slick with your juices, the muscles tensing and releasing with each powerful stroke. his cock was buried deep inside you, the heat of his seed mixing with the cold anger that still thrummed through your veins. "you're going to come for me," he growled, his teeth grazing your neck. "say it."

you bit your lip, your body already on the edge of your third climax. "no," you whispered, the word a desperate lie. theo's eyes narrowed, his hand sliding up to cup your breast. his thumb flicked over your nipple, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. "you can't lie to me," he murmured, his voice a dark challenge. "not when you're like this."

his teeth sank into your neck again, the pain mixing with the pleasure that was already threatening to overwhelm you. "no," you whimpered, your body arching into his touch. "i can't." but even as the words left your mouth, you felt the beginnings of the orgasm coil in your belly. "yes, you can," he murmured, his voice a seductive purr.

his thumb found your clit again, his touch relentless. you could feel the tension building, the pressure that had only just subsided starting to swell once more. his smile was feral, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. ""just let go." he said, his voice a dark whisper. his thumb circled your clit, his cock still buried deep inside you. your body was already responding, the muscles in your stomach tightening with the promise of another release. "i can't," you gasped, your voice weak with the effort of resisting. "i can't."

but your body had other plans. as his thumb worked its magic, you felt the tension coil within you once more. your hips moved of their own accord, riding the wave of pleasure that was building. "you're so close," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "just let it happen." you bit your lip, trying to hold back the inevitable, but it was no use. the sensation was too intense, too overwhelming.

you came again, your body shuddering with the force of it. theo's eyes never left yours, his smile one of victory. "you see?" he whispered, his voice a caress. "you want this as much as i do." your anger flared, but it was dulled by the aftermath of your climax. "it doesn't mean anything," you murmured, your voice weak. "it's just sex."

his eyes searched yours, the smugness fading. "is that all you think it is?" he asked, his voice low and serious. "just sex?" you didn't answer, unable to find the words to express the tumult of emotions inside you. "that's all it is," you said finally, your voice firm. "we're enemies."

his grip on your neck loosened, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "are we?" he murmured, his eyes searching yours. "after this?" you pushed him away, your chest heaving with the effort of maintaining your composure. "yes," you said, your voice a growl. "we are."

theo pulled out of you, his cock slick with your juices. the sight made you feel a mix of revulsion and desire that had you clenching your fists. "fine," he said, his voice tight with disappointment. "but remember this moment." he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "remember how good it felt to be with me."

you jerked away, your eyes flashing with anger. "i'll remember it," you spat, "as the night i fucked the enemy." theo's smile was cold, his eyes hard. "you can call it what you want," he said, "but i'll be thinking of it as the night i claimed you." he slammed the door behind him as he climbed out of the truck, leaving you to gather your scattered clothing.

you pulled on your underwear and skirt, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasms. the taste of his blood lingered on your tongue, a bitter reminder of the power he held over you. "this doesn't change anything," you murmured to the empty truck, your voice shaking with the effort of convincing yourself.

as you slammed the door shut behind you, the swealtering night air hit you like a slap in the face, jolting you back to reality. you stumbled away from the truck, your legs unsteady. the forest loomed around you, the trees whispering secrets that you didn't want to hear. your eyes searched the darkness, looking for anything that could distract you from the mess you'd just made.

theo leaned against the truck, his eyes on you. "going somewhere?" he asked, his voice mocking. you whirled around, your fists clenched. "don't," you warned, your voice low and dangerous. "just don't."

his smile was cold, his eyes assessing. "i'll see you around, then," he said, his tone light. with that, he climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. the headlights flared to life, illuminating the clearing. you watched as he drove away, the red taillights fading into the darkness.

you turned and began the long walk home, the hot air doing little to cool the heat of anger and desire that still coursed through your veins. the moon was high in the sky, casting a silver glow over the forest floor. the trees whispered secrets that you didn't want to hear, the sounds of the night taunting you with every step.

taglist (sorry i didn't ask if you wanted to be tagged, please lmk if you want me to remove you!): @fhaf123, @belovedbastardremus, @aureliaviolet3, @oh--its-just-me

edited 8.19.24

#theo raeken #theo raeken x reader #theo raeken x fem!reader #theo raeken smut #theodore raeken #theodore raeken x reader #theodore raeken x fem!reader #theodore raeken smut #cody christian #cody christian x reader #cody christian smut #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #teen wolf smut

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mitsua · 2 months ago

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With an MC who likes to post about their dates with them

Warnings: none Genre: fluff

Series: OM! SWD? MC'S. . . GN!

Words count: 0.74k

I don't think he'd really like it at first, since you were all the time asking for a picture, for him to pose or smile, and, well, he doesn't really wish to do that.

However, once Asmodeous showed him all the posts you made on every date-how you wrote so highly and cutely about your spent time with him-it made somethings in his heart and pride go up to the stars.

"I'll smile only if you smile too."

Maybe sometimes is the one who catches you off guard asking you to take a picture of the most random moment on your date just as a joke.

But oh boy when he scrolls down later on and sees you really posted those embarrassing photos, he's gonna be malfunctioning for a while.

Still, as he reads your thoughts about the date on the picture's caption, his mind will race a thousands miles per hour and kick his feet like a little kid (obviously without anyone seeing him).

"Be grateful I'm not charging ya' for those photos!"

It started as posting about some streamings you watched, then to both your hands shown holding a video game controls, the final blow was when he woke up to an exaggerated amount of posts he'd been tagged on, new hashtags shipping the both of you and some even promoting their pages to read Leviathan x you content.

He was about to go insane, but as you asked him if he wanted you to delete all those posts, he reconsidered and ponder what was wrong on all that.

"It's fine, yes, it's going to be fine only with you by my side."

He'd get used to you taking a photo before and after entering a new place with him, sometimes a couple more in there. But never thought nor asked what'd you do with those.

Later on, as he read online about new places to take your date to in Devilgram as it seemed to be the most reliable app to ask to, he came across your page and finally saw all you had to comment of your dates.

"I love reading your narrating, however, would you mind telling me by yourself what you thought about it all?"

When he discovers your passion of publishing about your dates, you've grown accostumed to even going live on a couple of them. Of course the most part of your dates were private, you spent some time exchanging ideas on how to edit or tag your posts.

The only time you really caught him off guard was the time you posted a photo of him fully suited, when you attended to a fancy dinner of your anniversary together, he didn't notice you taking it! Your caption reading: "Hope you know you look beautiful to me in every way you'd never even got to imagine about <3"

His eyes got glassy as he absorbed your words and went immediately to hug you.

It's an odd thing to him, but doesn't really comment about it unless he thinks you're spending too much time on your D.D.D. your eyes might burn because of being glued to the screen all time.

One day, after an important fangol match of his, some reporters asked permission to publish the photographs taken on their Devilgram account and tag them on it, to which all of them agreed happily. After returning to the HOL he'd look for their team's post and click on your page by mistake, mersmerized with all the love you put on your almost daily posts about your dates with him.

"Uhm... do you want to take a picture of both of us eating this cupcake?"

He'd still have a weird approach, but trust me, he's trying.

He's between 'I don't like it' to 'I don't care'. Nevertheless, he would smile in a couple of pictures you want to take throughout your time together. But only when he's looking at you.

He won't bother looking to the camera, he'll only stare at you.

The only photo you have of him smiling to something else that was not you was when he was asleep. Probably dreaming of you too-

Sometimes, when he can't sleep, he might scroll down your Devilgram to remember those cute dates of yours.

"That I have to look to that little thing in your phone while you're taking the photo? Why? I want to look at you."

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coldfanbou · 10 months ago

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Manor: Parting

The new part of the Manor series involves Umji and Taeyeon!

Length 2.1K

Umji x Taeyeon x Mreader

It was the day after. You sit in your room packing a backpack full of clothes and other things you might need. Nayeon was doing the same. You had pulled out a good amount of money from your bank account, and it would last you a couple of months if you were wise with it. Nayeon was doing the same. You’re both nervous; you don’t know exactly what Moonbyul could do for the two of you, but at the moment, you feel like it’s your only choice. Once everything is packed, you hide your backpack in a closet and head out into the manor, taking a walk around the area so you can remember it well.

“Young Master!” You hear from behind you the quick steps of the person, telling you it was Taeyeon. “I have something I have to talk to you about. Could you spare me some time?”

“Sure, what is it, Taeyeon?”

“You’ll have to excuse me, but it's something that we should talk about in private.”

“I- alright.” Taeyeon leads you to her room. She opened the door and stepped to the side to reveal Umji sitting on the bed. You hadn’t had too much interaction with her in the time she worked here. “What is this about Taeyeon?”

“You see, Young Master. Umji managed to overhear something about Yuna and Chuu that I thought you should be aware of. Umji, please go ahead.”

The young woman stood up, fiddling with her hands. “I overheard them saying something about Yuna not ending up pregnant and that they would need to try again with you, Master.”

“This is very concerning, Young Master. It seems like they may be trying to force a marriage.” A knock on the door interrupts Taeyeon; she goes to check it. Opening the door just a crack, she sees Moonbyul on the other side.

“Taeyeon, I finished my task. Is there…” Moonbyul goes quiet as she manages to spot you over Taeyeon’s head.

“Moonbyul, you can- can.” Taeyeon struggles to think of a task for Moonbyul when you manage to see who it is.

“She knows Taeyeon. You can let her in.” You grab the door handle and open the door for Moonbyul. You close the door behind her. “Well, Moonbyul. It looks like you were on the money, but I think Yuna took a different path. According to Umji here, Yuna just planned on getting pregnant to force a marriage.”

Moonbyul nods her head. “I guess that is the fastest way.”

The confused expression on Taeyeon and Umji’s faces is enough for you to explain the situation. “So Moonbyul heard something similar and saw Chuu heading in and out of my father’s office. We have come to the conclusion that it’s my father’s wish.”

“I see.” Taeyeon looks slightly concerned at the prospect. “I’ll talk with him.”

“No, Taeyeon. I’m planning on running away with Nayeon.”

“I don’t understand. If you’re running away with her, why not tell your father? You two could become a couple, and this would all stop.” Taeyeon makes a good point, but this wasn’t as much about marrying and more about wanting your freedom.

“Taeyeon, that’s not what I meant. I meant that we both want to get out of this life. I want my freedom; I don’t want to have my parents watch over me my entire life. Nayeon has her own reasons.”

“That’s his call, and I’m helping him,” Moonbyul says, stepping back into the conversation.

“I think I should leave,” Umji says as she approaches the door. Taeyeon holds her at the door. “Miss Taeyeon?”

“Young Master. I don’t think you should leave. I think we should have a longer talk about this.”

You sigh in response, “Taeyeon, I don’t think there’s anything you can do to keep me here.”

“Let’s just talk this out. I’d like you to leave us, Moonbyul.”

Moonbyul stands there for a moment, “What about Umji?”

“I need her to stay here for a moment. Please leave us. Now.” Moonbyul bows and leaves the room. “Young Master, please reconsider this. If you talk to your father, I'm sure we could get him to stop all this nonsense.”

You put your hand up. “Taeyeon, I just need to leave.” She looks to the floor, considering her options.

In a quiet voice, she says, “You wanted me, right?” Taeyeon slips the straps of her maid dress off her shoulders and forces it off her body, leaving her in her bra and panties. “You can have sex with me whenever you want. Umji, you want him to stay here too, right?” She whispers something into Umji’s ears, and soon, she’s stripping down, too. Your body reacts the only way it can after seeing the two beautiful women strip down.

“Taeyeon,” You whisper before she rushes in and plants her lips on yours. She places your hands on her ass and rubs your bulge.

“Let me do this, Young Master.” She pulls your cock out of your pants and strokes it gently. Taeyeon looks over her shoulder and nods at Umji. The young woman steps up to you and takes your cock from Taeyeon’s hand, continuing to stroke your shaft. Taeyeon’s kiss muffles your grunt. She starts stripping you of your clothes, starting with your shirt, before dragging you onto her bed to take your pants.

On her bed, Taeyeon continues to kiss you. You feel her fingertip move across your chest, but your focus is soon on Umji’s tongue as she drags it along your shaft. You groan from the pleasure. “Just stay quiet and enjoy this Young Master,” Taeyeon says before moving down your body to join Umji. You stare at them, watching each woman take their turn licking your shaft. Taeyeon cups your balls, moving them in her hand as she plants her lips on your cock and runs them along your shaft. On the other side, Umji is doing the same thing; her cute face and dirty act turn you on. “I’ll let you have it first,” Taeyeon whispers before kissing Umji’s cheek. You see the smile on Umji’s face grow as she moves toward the head and swallows it. Her small warm tongue playfully moves up and down over the head of your cock. Taeyeon strips off her remaining pieces of clothing and straddles your leg, rocking on it. Small moans escape her. She uses one hand to balance herself and uses the other to pinch her nipple. You can feel her nectar rubbing off against your leg. “We can take good care of you here. Always and forever.” She moans.

You switch between watching Umji and Taeyeon, unable to keep your attention on a single person. Umji begins bobbing her head, taking in half your shaft. She looks pleased with herself as she glances at you. You moan her name; Umji rubs the tip against the inside of her cheek. It’s soft and warm, but soon you feel something else. Umji reaches your pelvis, your cock down her throat. Her voice is garbled as she mouths something. You unconsciously move your hand down and caress her cheek, feeling the skin around her mouth pull as she smiles. Her tongue taps the underside of your cock as she slowly pulls back. She lets go of your cock with a pop, smiling to herself as she kisses the tip. Umji gently sucks on it, involuntarily making you thrust your hips. She’s surprised and giggles before going back to your cock. You’re getting close to your orgasm, your cock beginning to throb in the young woman’s mouth. “He’s cumming.” Umji mumbles for Taeyeon to hear.

“Go ahead, Umji. Drink it all; you deserve it.” Taeyeon replies before moving to your side. “Let her have it, Young Master.” She whispers into your ear. You give in, pouring your cum onto Umji’s tongue. A happy hum comes from Umji as she greedily drinks every drop. She laps at your tip as your orgasm comes to an end. Opening her mouth, Umji shows you how she drank it all with a smug smile. Taeyeon looks just as happy. She sits up and caresses Umji’s cheek. “I’ll take it from here. You can ride him after.” The two switch places. Taeyeon is between your legs, stroking your cock, getting it hard again while Umji kisses your neck and presses her body against yours. You feel her modest breasts rub against your side.

Once you’re hard, Taeyeon straddles you aligning herself with your cock. “We love you, Young Master.” She says before pushing your cock inside. Taeyeon throws her head back and moans as she slowly stuffs herself with your cock. “You’re so big. I feel so full.” You see a slight bulge where your cock is inside her. Taeyeon rests for a moment, nearly at her end, despite just putting it in. Umji sits up and attaches herself to Taeyeon’s nipple, running her tongue around her areola. “Ah, Umji, don’t do that. I’ll cum.” Taeyeon moans as she starts grinding on your cock. “It feels so good.” She mumbles as she slowly rises. You grab her hips and pull her back down. “Shit,” You feel Taeyeon’s walls tighten around your cock. She leans forward, biting her lip. Taeyeon’s body goes stiff as she hits her orgasm.

You didn’t realize much you missed being inside Taeyeon; you moan and start thrusting into her tightening pussy. “Y-young Master, wait,” Taeyeon mumbles as she becomes overloaded with pleasure. Your thrusts were driving her crazy; add in Umji teasing her breasts, and Taeyeon was becoming lost in pure bliss. Taeyeon struggled to keep herself up as she felt your cock being slammed inside her. Taeyeon was being pushed toward another climax. “I’m cumming again!” Taeyeon cries out. You hold onto her waist, continuing to piston in and out of her as she cums again. Her tight pussy pushes you slowly toward your orgasm, but you hold on for now.

Umji detaches herself from Taeyeon, watching as her superior collapses on top of you after her orgasm ends. “Let me rest, let me…” Taeyeon mumbles on about needing to rest. You lift her off your cock and move her to the side. Umji immediately replaces Taeyeon, rolling over you. Her back was to you, you could feel her soft ass against you, and your cock was trapped between her thighs for the moment. She rubs her legs together, making you groan. Umji’s thighs were beyond soft. You hold onto her waist and begin thrusting; after a minor adjustment, you’re cock in rubbing against her slit. Umji releases a small whine; she reaches up and plays with her tits as she watches your cock slide between her folds.

“Put it in, please, Master. I want your cock.” Umji’s pleas are heard, and you give her what she wants. You slide your cock inside; Umji is tighter than Taeyeon. You both moan loudly. Umji turns her head toward you, and you do the same, kissing her as you begin thrusting. Your hands dig into her soft flesh as you push every inch of your cock inside her. Umji moves one hand down, rubbing her clit. “Harder Master, Harder.” Umji whines. You drive your cock deep inside Umji with every thrust; you can see her body jiggle when you put a lot of strength into it. Umji grabs one of your hands and moves it up toward her breast. Knowing what she wants, you squeeze; you find her nipple between your fingers and try to pinch it. She holds your hand over yours, helping you. Umji’s whines continue to flow as she feels your cock begin to throb inside her. “Master! Cum inside me, please!” You feel Umji walls wrapping around your cock, rubbing every part as she nears her climax.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum.” You groan. You pull Umji down, impaling her on your cock as you cum. She feels your thick baby batter pour into her. Umji rests against you, her hand slowly rubbing her clit as she comes down from her orgasm.

“Master’s cum feels so nice. It’s warm,” Umji mumbles blissfully. You kiss Umji, her lips melting into yours. You slip your tongue inside her mouth as your hands wander her body, running over her smooth skin. “Master can use me whenever he likes,” Umji giggles. You stay inside Umji, letting her be a cockwarmer as you look over at Taeyeon, who’s fallen asleep. You think to yourself about how you still need to go. You decide you’ll at least leave her a note. For now, though, you choose to enjoy Umji for a little while longer.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #gfriend smut #viviz smut #umji smut #taeyeon smut #snsd smut

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citrusses · 28 days ago

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10 incredible fics by @oknowkiss 😘🎈

elaine's work was some of the first to grab hold of my arms and drag me headfirst into the full-on drarry hyperfixation. picking only ten fics I'm obsessed with was basically impossible--how dare someone be so talented??? if you've already read all these, go read the ones you haven't!!

9 to 5 (E, 2K)

Draco Malfoy hates Mondays.

e's microfic may is a genre in and of itself.

Hyacinth (M, 7K)

Draco receives a letter. Inside is a note from a lawyer and a single, purple petal, the same color as the hyacinths his mother used to grow. This is what happens after.

this fic broke my heart. it's so beautiful, you have to experience it to understand.

the long ways (M, 10K)

Five times Harry thought he was seeing Draco for the last time, and one time he didn’t. OR: what it’s like to fall in love, slowly and without realizing it, over the course of 20 years.

Falling in love over 20 years! Need I say more????

draco malfoy's substitute murder service (E, 10K)

When Harry joins the Curse Breakers shortly after his twenty-fifth birthday, he’s surprised to find himself assigned to the Department of Creatures, Cryptids, and Associated Calamities. OR: the one where Draco goes goblin mode, and Harry has a thing for monsters.

who else could come up with something this perfect, strange, apt, hilarious and tender?

a licence to kill (M, 11K)

Draco Malfoy has a licence to kill. Unfortunately, it expired last Tuesday. OR: how Draco Malfoy learned to stop worrying and love form AK-86-G

once again, the world-building this author is capable of in a fic of 11K is beyond comprehension.

any day now (E, 16K)

Draco supposes he should be grateful. The rehabilitation centres were the Minister’s idea, or that’s what the Prophet said anyway. Their stated objective is simple: to provide a safe space for low-tier Death Eaters and high-tier sympathisers to reconsider the entirety of their life choices. All guests–because no one is a prisoner here, the literature brags–are to be provided with shelter, food, clothing, and the guided support of a Mind Healer via a programme they call “ideological restructuring,” which is, of course, mandatory.

funny and clever and biting and sharp and a kick to the heart. one of my favorite fics.

Historians (E, 29K)

It’s the Dumbledore’s Army Reunion Holiday, and Harry’s found himself in hot water with his friends once again, after telling them he has a boyfriend he definitely does not have. In an attempt to fix things, he’s made it his colleague on Level Nine, Draco Malfoy’s problem too. Featuring a ski chalet in Switzerland, a pair of bunk beds, and an agreement that should’ve been simple, were it not for all the bloody feelings getting in the way.

I've made it this far into the list without mentioning that elaine writes the. hottest. sex. ever. see: how i raved about this fic when it was still anon.

À Bon Chat (E, 35K)

Draco Malfoy didn’t intend to lead a life of crime after the war. It’s just that being good had turned out so incomprehensibly boring. Now he's thirty-five, a fully redeemed member of society, the darling of the wizarding social pages, and a newly minted consultant for Gawain Robards' Investigative Research division. In his spare time, he enjoys good whisky, casual sex, and moonlighting as an art thief. His biggest score yet is fast approaching and he's got everything planned down to the minute. Everything, that is, until the unexpected appearance of a newly-divorced Harry Potter. Now that Potter's in the picture, Draco's no longer certain if he's the pursuer or the prize.

Cat and mouse Drarry! Art thieves! Such a true delight of a fic.

The Waiting (E, 43K)

It’s been almost ten years since Draco Malfoy disappeared during a routine Curse Breaker training exercise. Harry, his partner in more ways than one, is determined to figure out why. As the past resurfaces and the present fades into confusion, Harry discovers the only thing more unreliable than memory is love.

I can't do justice to this fic with my words (even though I, at one point, tried to). i stayed up all night to read it, crying silently into my pillow. it's an all-time favorite, it is a fandom classic, if you haven't read it i am begging you to (and dm me so we can scream)

The July Tree (E, 51K)

Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail… nor well-meaning friends, nor questionable communication skills, nor seven years of hating each other’s guts can keep Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy from falling in love.

The rec post I wrote for this fic two years ago is as true as it ever was.

#drarry fic recs #oknowkiss my beloved #citrus recs #happy birthday e!!

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wildfairies · 1 year ago

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well, it finally happened, a big cc creator told me not to put their cc in my sim dumps... it's a creator i couldn't find tou for at the time (and still can't now, just tried for research purposes) so i went with common sense rules like "don't include cc that's in early access" and "don't paywall other ppl's cc" which i obviously would never do. i did change the dl to appease them, but...

i'm feeling torn between wanting to be considerate/understanding and absolute irritation at what this community has become, especially in light of the absurd influx of brand new cc creators who aren't part of the community paywalling their very first posts. i'm thinking about the text post that was going around recently that said something like "imagine if the simblr community was actually collaborative and we shared creations openly" instead of this for-profit entity it's become.

this creator's been nothing but polite so i don't want to seem like i'm after them but they're also making so much money monthly off cc that you'd think it'd be ok to use that cc. bc literally what else is a sim dump. i use a bunch of cc and it's included in the download for convenience, then people put the cc in their own game and everything is exactly the same from there-- your name on the file, your name on the cas preview.

except, of course, the downloader didn't visit your page in the first place, so you missed out on another potential patron/click (never mind the fact that the creators i use for sim dumps are intentionally bigger so people are more likely to already have the cc/know who the creator is, so you probably didn't miss out anyway).

the other thing is that anyone who won't let their cc be used in sim dumps must understand that if everyone else followed that rule, sharing sims with each other would pretty quickly become way too tedious and that entire way of engaging with the community would fall apart. how can you justify a rule that would unquestionably harm the community if every creator followed it? it's both unsustainable and ungenerous.

the bottom line is we need to reconsider how we approach creations made for this game. if you're a creator and your goal is not for your creation to be used, shared, and enjoyed, why are you even making cc? (& money is not a good answer 😀)

#lush.talk #rant #the patreon issue #the sims community

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wardenparker · 3 months ago

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Bones Full of Words, ch 5

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 11.3k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia (sometimes internalized and sometimes not), canon typical violence* Fatphobia, misogyny, internalized fatphobia, self-esteem issues. Summary: The raid on the club effects more than just the people inside, and it finally puts you and Javier in a room together for a real conversation to be had. Notes: Hi all! Sorry about the erratic posting schedule, but I'm doing my best. Thankfully I'm coming out of my busy season at work and moving into something that is chaotic in a different way 👍

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4

Getting an oversized guard dog into the back of your tiny, broken-down car and halfway across the city was not on your checklist of things to do today. Fleeing your apartment was not either. Getting Chi-Chi to vaguely calm down enough to drive was a task in and of itself, but when you finally pull your car into one of the spare parking spaces adjacent to Javier's building, you breathe a sigh of relief. At best, you know where his spare key is. Though you doubt he'll be glad to see you in his apartment when he gets home from a night of work.

You just didn't know where else to go.

Javi sighs as he closes the door. He's had to convince himself not to go to the club the entire way back to his apartment. Almost turning around at one point, but he knows he would just be turned away. He doesn't want to care about your safety, you've made your feelings towards him very clear, but he can't just leave you to twist in the wind.

Up to his floor and to that now-familiar front door, you take a deep breath and tell Chi-Chi to sit before knocking twice on Javier’s door. Even if you assume he’s working — why wouldn’t he be? You’re not just going to barge into his place. Not after the awful things you said to him. Not when he very well might have saved your life tonight.

Turning and frowning at the door, Javi puts down the cigarette he had just been about to light and opens the door. His eyes going wide when he finds you on his doorstep with a very large dog by your side.

Chi-Chi starts to bark immediately, but you reach down (barely having to reach) to soothe her and frown apologetically when you look back up at Javier. “I didn’t know where else to go,” you admit softly, wondering why he’s here and if he’ll even let you in.

Javi opens the door wider and wonders if the acute sense of relief is just because of your soulmate status. He has thought more about fucking soulmates in the past week than he probably ever has in his entire life. "Want a drink?" He grunts, figuring it would be a neutral question and shouldn't piss you off too badly.

“Thank you.” Your own relief is just as mysterious, but you’re willing to set that aside for now just because you’re grateful to be safe. “I’ll um…I’ll put Chi-Chi in the guest room. She’s well behaved and has had a lot of excitement so hopefully she’ll just take a nap.”

"Let her sniff around." Javi doesn't mind dogs, he likes them. He doesn't approach the large furry creature, but he does offer a hand if she would like to sniff him. "The more comfortable she feels, the quicker she will calm down."

“She doesn’t like men,” you offer, trying to explain why you were going to set her up elsewhere. But aside from barking just once, Chi-Chi hasn’t done much besides look at Javier curiously. So you let her off her leash with a scratch behind the ears. “She uh…she’s my landlady’s dog. My landlady and my neighbor were both out tonight so it was just me and her and…and I didn’t want anything to happen to her.”

“She’s protective.” He hums, watching as the dog cautiously approaches him. Her nose is wet and warm as it bumps against his hand and he doesn’t move as she starts to sniff him.

“It’s okay, sweet girl,” you coo softly to the massive dog, fascinated to see her like this with a man for the first time ever. “Javier’s good. We can trust him.”

He almost snorts at the comment, knowing the last thing you do is trust him. But maybe that’s not true, you left your apartment after all. After long minutes of sniffing his hand and his shoe, a brief bump against his crotch, the dog bumps her head under his hand in the universal demand for attention. “Good girl.”

“She’s sweet,” you assure him, and breathe a sigh of relief when Chi-Chi accepts the pets she is given and goes to flop down at the feet of the armchair you used to like to sit in while you were staying here. It must still smell like you. “We, um…we won’t overstay our welcome. I know you didn’t mean to invite me over when you called.”

“I doubt you can go home tonight.” Javier admits. “If you don’t want to stay here, I can get you a hotel.” Helena isn’t here to be a buffer anymore. “But there are clean sheets on the bed.”

“I’d feel safer here,” you admit with a half shrug of your shoulders. He has been busying himself with pouring drinks and you accept one gratefully. “Are you, um…are you okay?” You motion to your own cheek, indicated where he has a bruise blossoming from the fight earlier. “I mean…is that why you’re not at the raid?”

“Suspended.” Javi takes a sip of his own whiskey and reaches up to touch his cheek, wincing slightly. “Bastard.” He hisses, wishing he had blacked both of Alex’s eyes.

“Motherfucker,” you murmur with a shake of your head, and sit down in the chair that Chi-Chi is currently guarding. “I’m sorry.”

“Could be worse.” He shrugs slightly. “I could be a CIA prick.”

“He…did not look good.” That is for damn sure, though you’re still hesitant about whether not you’re entitled to even say anything about it.

“Good.” Javier grumbles a little under his breath, but he’s happy that little fucker is having a worse day than he is. He drains the rest of his whiskey and walks back to the bar cart.

“Can I ask…” You’ve barely touched the glass in your hand but you hang on to it tightly like some kind of security blanket, wondering if Javier is already regretting letting you in. “What the fight was about?”

He turns and looks at you for a moment, his brows pinched together and he’s about to say something sarcastic when he sees that confused and worried look on your face. The same one that you had worn when the ambassador had been there. One that said you couldn’t possibly think that the fight was about you. “What do you think it was about?”

“If I had to guess?” Since you’ve been chewing on it all afternoon and now with the raid tonight? It seems obvious to you. “Something to do with the CIA staking out the club you were — are — going to raid?”

He shakes his head and takes another swallow of whiskey to dull the ache and to settle the unease in his stomach that’s been rolling around since he ran into you in the embassy halls. “Not quite.” He grunts and sighs after that, his shoulders rolling slightly. “It was about you.”

“Me?” The audible surprise in your voice is enough for him to understand that that is the very last answer you were expecting.

He turns towards you, aware that you will just claim he’s using your soulmate connection to control you or he’s jealous, but he says it anyway. “He’s a fucking prick. You don’t need to be with that son of a bitch.”

Deeply confused about why he even cares, you just take a sip of your drink and look down at your toes. “I already dumped him.”

“Good.” Now he understands why the prick had felt the need to take stabs at your weight, he was emasculated when you dumped him.

“What about me?” You ask after a pause, since it doesn’t make any sense to you that either man would care that much. Enough to get into a fist fight over someone that neither of them, apparently, liked a little or at all.

"Doesn't matter." He's not going to hurt your feelings by telling you what the man you had been sleeping with was saying about you.

“If it was about me, don’t you think I deserve to know?” Maybe you shouldn’t push, but being told the reason doesn’t matter feels a lot like saying you don’t matter. And if they were fighting about you then that clearly isn’t true.

Javi rocks his jaw, hating that you are pushing this. "He was running his fucking mouth." He finally says after staring at you for a moment. "So I punched him in it." Hopefully you will leave it at that, but he has a feeling you won't.

“It was that bad?” You ask simply, bewildered that Alex could possibly have cared enough to say anything cruel.

He doesn't say anything, just stares down into his drink and hopes that you will let the question die if he doesn't answer. He honestly doesn't know why he cares what that fucker thinks about you. You made it clear that you would rather anyone else be your soulmate, and it's not his business what kind of man you decide to fuck. Still, he had been like a bull with a red flag waved in front of his face. Reacting furiously and only now examining the whys of the moment that had gotten him suspended.

Stoic silence has never exactly been a response you have taken lightly or well, and the attitude that you came here with —apology and peacemaking — so easily gets stomped under the heel of your shoe when provoked even the slightest. “If it’s that bad then don’t I deserve to know?”

"Christ, you won't let it go, will you?" Javi sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "He fucking called you an assignment because no one picks a fat chick, but maybe he would visit again because 'even whales suck cock'." He doesn't snap it out as hatefully as Alex might have, but he can't look at you when he says it, immediately draining the rest of his whiskey to have something to do.

It’s certainly not the worst insult you’ve ever had slung your way in your life, but it’s not kind by any means. But it is the sort of comment that will probably have you second-guessing even going to Freckles or Vanessa for at least the next several months. The kind of comment that will have your eyes downcast at floor and pavement without the confidence that you have spent your entire adult life working to cultivate. The kind of comment that makes you feel as useless and unwanted as you always did as a kid. “Got it,” you murmur, head bobbing in a repetitive nod. “Got it. I, um…I’ll get out of your hair…” you decide, setting down your glass and altogether ready to flee his apartment despite having nowhere to go, just so he won’t see how genuinely hurt you are by what Alex said. Or worse, how much you appreciate the fact that Javier stepped in to defend you.

"Don't go." Javi won't make you stay, but he doesn't want you to leave when you're upset. He can hear the hurt in your voice. His eyes sliding over to where you are halfway out of your seat. "You don't have to." He has a feeling that being alone would be the worst thing for you.

“You can’t possibly want me around when I’m like this.” The tears have welled up in your eyes and are threatening to spill over, and Chi-Chi has sensed the change in your mood, sitting up in front of you and whining softly in concern. “Or at all, for all the grief I’ve given you.”

"Don't go." He murmurs again softly.

“I’m sorry.” That’s when the first tears fall. With two small words that mean so many different things.

"Don't be sorry." He shakes his head, frowning and wishing that he had another drink but he doesn't move. "It's not your fault he's a fucking prick."

“I’m sorry for so much more than that.” You wipe at your cheeks, calling yourself back to order as quickly as you can and also scratching between sweet Chi-Chi’s ears to soothe her so she doesn’t get too worked up. “I’ve given you nothing but grief and you didn’t deserve it.”

He frowns slightly, wondering what is with your change in attitude. "No, I didn't." He won't mince words and make you feel better. You were wrong about him.

“Helena set the record straight.” He deserved to know the discussion that was had about him just like you did, even if the one about you was far worse. “About how you protected her, and she was the one who insisted on trying to get information. That—that you didn’t send her in for it. I misunderstood the whole situation and I’m sorry for thinking the worst of you.”

Javi lets your explanation settle over him for a moment. Absorbing it. Letting it sit for a moment before he nods. "It was a shit situation." He admits. "At least she survived. Can one day move past it. Unlike the other girls that went with them that we fished out of the river last week."

“They’re all psychopaths. The sicarios.” The best you can do is shake your head in utter disgust. “But she’s going to be okay. It will be good for her to get to move. To get away from the memories, at least physically.”

"They are." That he will completely agree with. His jaw tightens slightly, knowing that right now he is on the outs of the action, unable to be there. Murphy probably won't even call him tonight. He looks at his empty glass and knows that before he gets too drunk, he should probably eat. "You hungry?" He asks, looking over at you curiously. He had never been around while you and Helena ate, often working long hours that week that you stayed here, but he had appreciated the leftovers in the fridge.

“Sure.” The olive branch he’s offering isn’t insignificant, and you’re not going to ignore it. Especially when you actually are hungry. In all the commotion of the day you’d completely forgotten to eat at all.

"Anything in particular you want?" He reaches over and nudges your drink towards you, urging you to drink it. "I can go pick something up or we can get it delivered."

“How do you feel about Lebanese?” It hadn’t at all been what you expected to see when you arrived in Bogotá, but there had been a wide variety of international restaurants in the area owned and operated by immigrants from other countries. Not the least of which was the amazing Lebanese restaurant two blocks from Javier’s apartment.

“I normally get the lamb kafta.” He tells you. “Haven’t tried much else on the menu to be honest.” He’s a simple guy, if he likes something, that will be what he orders every time. Someone had brought some in to the office one day and he had asked where it had come from.

“Have you never tried their falafel?” You ask in mock shock. The fact that you’re pushing forward, trying to be relatively normal with each other, it matters more than you want to admit.

“I don’t have clue what that is?” Javi admits with a snort, shrugging slightly. “Is it good?”

“It’s amazing, I promise.” In fact you’re prepared to swear to it, just hoping that what you consider amazing also fits his taste buds.

“Then I’ll let you order.” He offers, figuring it makes more sense because he doesn’t know what you like. In fact, he knows very little about you. “Sound good?”

“I’ll put it under your name.” And you’ll get an order of his lamb kafta, just in case he doesn’t end up liking the falafel. You’re balancing on a very thin and fragile tightrope right now so you don’t want to push too hard. Not anymore than you already have, anyway.

“That’s fine by me.” He stands with a groan and fishes his wallet out of the back of his suit trousers and pulls out some money. “I’m going to take a shower.” He tells you. “Use this for the food.”

“I’ll have it back by the time you’re dressed.” And you’ll use your own money, but there’s no use turning it into an argument. Arguing seems to be what you and Javier do best and most easily, but you’re trying to avoid it for at least a little while.

“Don’t leave.” He stops and turns around with a frown on his face. “Have it delivered.”

“Okay.” The look on his face is so set that you only nod. “I promise.”

He nods and looks like he’s going to say something before he just turns around and walks to his bedroom. Eager to get out of the suit and clean up a little.

It would be easy and very like you to just disregard his request and go pick up the food on foot. It wouldn’t take very long and it certainly wouldn’t be difficult. But something about breaking this first promise you made to him in good standing just doesn’t feel right. It feels worse than just sort of off. So you head back into the kitchen and pick up his phone, dialing the number for the Lebanese place listed on the front of the menu at the top of his take out drawer.

Javi feels bad about asking you to stay in the apartment, but he gets the nagging feeling that if he lets you out of that door, he won’t see you again. Plus he’s on edge, knowing that the sicarios will be trigger happy after they learn a kill team has been sent out.

You’re closing the door behind the delivery guy when Javier comes out of his room. “Good timing,” you tell him, holding up the bag. Your shoes are off and sitting by the door, so hopefully he doesn’t question that you kept your promise.

You are still in the professional wear from the Embassy, making him feel guilty about changing his own clothes. He doesn’t have anything for you to change into and he doesn’t want to embarrass you by bringing that up. “Good.” He hums. “I’ve realized I haven’t eaten anything since a slice of toast this morning.”

“I’ve had coffee and cigarettes, does that count?” Forks from the drawer and refills for each of your glasses, and before you know it you’re both sitting down at his table with plastic takeout containers full of fragrant dinner.

“Coming from a place of complete hypocrisy—” he points at you with a fork. “That’s not good for you.”

“Bite me,” you smirk, and shove the container of falafel, rice pilaf, labneh, and other tasty goodies toward him. “We both have terrible habits.”

He glances down at the container and pokes at it with interest. “Didn’t say we didn’t.” He points out. “But you took care of Helena, maybe you should take care of yourself.”

“As long as I’m in enough of one piece to get my work done, I’m fine.” You shrug, poking at the container of kafta, turnip pickles, and baba ghanoush in front of you. “Besides, I think we’ve established tonight that I could stand to lose a few pounds.”

“Don’t do that.” Javi huffs, picking up one of the round little balls and inspecting it. “There’s not a goddamn thing wrong with you and you know it.”

“I definitely do not know that, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.” The first bite of lamb is unctuous and warm with spices, but you lean on the table and frown. “I’d be the biggest liar in the world if I said I hadn’t heard it before.”

“Because people are fucking assholes.” He snorts again and shakes his head. “Are you happy with who you are?”

“Fuck no.” You snort at the absolute ridiculousness of that question and lean back in your seat. “Why? Are you?”

“I don’t know much about you, but I don’t have any problem with anything I’ve seen so far.” Javi shrugs slightly, a little surprised by the vehemence in your response when you see so self-assured. “You’ve got a nice ass.” He adds, as if that helps prove his case.

For a minute you just stare at him, bewildered, before a disbelieving laugh punches its way out of your throat. “I—what?”

He looks down at his plate again, stung by the laugh when he had thought he was being nice. “Okay.” He huffs, shoving a bite of food into his mouth. “Forget I said anything.”

"No, no, I mean—" You pinch your eyes shut and remind yourself not to snap back. To just be a fucking normal person for once in your life instead of always being on the defensive. "I'm surprised that you...I mean I thought you hated me. That's what I mean."

“You hated me.” Javi corrects. “I didn’t know you.” He remembers that one meeting in the street in front of the brothel and snorts. “Except we sleep with the same women.”

"I hated my assumptions." You're a big enough person to admit that, though it feels appropriately humbling. "Thankfully, they were mostly wrong."

“Mostly?” That amuses him in an ironic kind of way and he wonders what it is that you think you have gotten right.

“Mostly.” Though this does make you smirk slightly. The amusement is so deep-seated you can’t help it. “I was not wrong about every woman you speak to falling at your feet.”

“Shiiiiiiit.” Javi snorts and shakes his head with a sardonic smile on his face. “That’s damned sure not the truth.”

“Name one,” you counter, knowing he’ll struggle. “And the ambassador doesn’t count.”

He lifts a brow. “You.” He says bluntly. “Damn sure woulda remembered you falling at my feet.” He takes another bit of the rice and reaches for a lamb kafta.

“I did.” You fidget slightly in your chair with the uncomfortable realization that he didn’t notice you at first. Not that he should have. But knowing that he is your soulmate makes it sting now. “The first time I saw you…at the embassy. I was with one of the secretaries and she…she told me about you.”

“You wore a pink shirt,” Javi hums. “Three inch heels that made your ass bubble up under a pencil skirt.” He had thought about it, thought hard on it and remembered seeing you around the embassy in passing. Although you always seemed to skitter away from him rather than come towards him.

“How…?”

“Because you were wrong about me not seeing you.” Javi has a wandering eye, he won’t deny that. If there’s a woman around, he’s going to appreciate her beauty. “You just seemed to rush away any time you saw me.” You seem shocked that he is telling you this and he wonders if it’s because you think that you shouldn’t receive a lot of attention because you aren’t thin.

“I guess I’m just…used to not being noticed.” It’s a nasty feeling to admit it, but being more or less invisible has always given you an edge as a journalist. Let you observe and be absorbed by what is happening around you. Apparently that isn’t the case when it comes to Javier.

“I noticed.” He takes another bite of his food and notices that you haven’t eaten much so he motions to your plate. “Eat.” He orders softly. “Noticed you outside the brothel too. Wondered if you were a client or if you were going to become a working girl there.”

“My editor wouldn’t sign off on me going undercover,” you admit, picking up your fork again. “I almost did it anyway.”

Javi shakes his head. “You don’t want to do that.” He frowns and looks down at his food, thinking about Helena. “For good damn reason.”

“It took me a while to get my footing down here, that’s all.” He doesn’t seem to be a big fan of the falafel, so you switch plates with him and try to find your appetite again.

“Thanks.” He pokes at your plate and frowns. “You like that, right?” He asks, wanting to make sure you aren’t just switching to make him happy.

“I got both of our favorites…” It feels silly to admit, but here you are. “Figured it couldn’t hurt to try.”

“Did you try it?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, just reaches down and picks up one of the skewers to put on your plate.

The striking difference in how he’s treating you now versus just a week ago is enough that you simply nod, thank him, and try to imagine what it would be like between you now if the unfounded anger — yours was unfounded, his was reactionary — had never existed. If you had met by accident. Spoken that day at the embassy, or any of the others since. If Alex had never been a part of your life. If you hadn’t fled your honest attraction because Colleen had advised you to stay away from the skirt-chasing agent.

The silence settles between the two of you. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s anticipatory. As if waiting for one of you to break and ask a question, any question. He takes another bite, happy when you start to eat again. Keeping an eye on you as he starts to devour his own plate. He’s got a lot of experience waiting for a suspect to talk, understanding the value of silence and how it affects some people.

To say that you have questions would be somewhat of an understatement, but what’s overshadowing it is that you don’t even know where to begin. When your whole consciousness is wrapped up in trying to understand, how do you choose where to start? Some part of you seems to build up and build up, until what comes out of your mouth is finally: “So why is the elephant on your thigh?”

The question of you really being his soulmate is put to bed. He had thought that it might have been some kind of joke. The girls yanking both of your chains, but he doubts they told you about what kind of tattoo he had. They might have fucked with him, but they wouldn't share that. "Who sees my thigh?" He asks, chuckling quietly. "I can't have visible tattoos, it's too dangerous."

“Sure, but…” It came out more bluntly than you meant it to, you know that. It’s just so hard to try to imagine how you and Javier are meant to knit together so perfectly that the universe made you soulmates. “That was blunt. I’m sorry. It just surprised me when it appeared. It’s the last place I ever would have thought to put a tattoo.”

"It's a spot I...." He struggles with how to explain it. He sighs softly. "It's the last place my mother touched me." He admits after a moment. "She was surprisingly alert, reaching over and grabbing my thigh." He looks down at his food and remembers how his frail and perpetually exhausted mother had suddenly had a burst of strength. "It's— that spot is where her thumb was. Elephants were her favorite animal. It made sense when I was drunk."

“It makes perfect sense,” you assure him, voice dropping in shame over having asked so bluntly. You really do just spit things out sometimes. “I’m sorry about your mother. It sounds like you were close.”

He wonders why you sound upset, but he nods. “Thanks. She was amazing.” He glances up at you again. “What about yours?” He asks. “Any special meaning?”

Because you had just taken a bite you have to wait long enough to chew, but eventually you motion to your right foot, where your one small tattoo sits on the outside of your ankle. "The anchor? Yeah, it's...it's on our state flag." He raises one eyebrow slightly, so you explain. "Rhode Island. We have an anchor on the flag and the state motto – hope – underneath. I got it so that no matter how far I traveled, I would always have a piece of home with me."

You're nostalgic and sentimental. He can see the wistfulness in your eyes as talk about home because that's apparently what it is to you. "Makes sense." He chuckles. "I thought maybe you had been in the Navy or something."

"One of my brothers joined up, but that's the closest I'll ever get." His laugh, though small, is infectious, and you end up joining him in it. The warm sound shared between you is almost a hug. "I love boats, but not rules."

"Yeah." He grunts, reminded of his own disciplinary action because of breaking some rules. He sometimes gets annoyed at all the red tape and he's not above doing dirty deeds to make sure the bad guy doesn't win. "I get that."

"Is there..." You shift in your seat, feeling acutely aware of yourself. “Anything you want to know about me?”

Javi is fantastic at flirting. Amazing at charming women and getting in their pants. This is much more important than those simple tasks. "Why journalism?" He asks, looking into your eyes and wondering why a reporter from Rhode Island was here in Colombia, if not to somehow run into him.

"People deserve to have their stories told." It's why you specifically tell human interest stories. Why, as a reporter, you have focused on sharing the words of people who otherwise might not be heard. "Helping people understand each other is something that newsprint can still do really effectively."

“Your stories are really compassionate.” He agrees, looking back down at his plate and realizing he’s almost done.

Surprise overtakes your face again. "You've...read my stuff?"

He looks back up at you, frowning slightly at the surprise. “Why wouldn’t I?” He asks. “You’re my soulmate.” It seems simple to him, he considered it research and at the time, he wanted to know why the fuck you seem like you thought you had some kind of moral upper hand.

"I guess," you swallow, embarrassed all over again. "I guess I've never really had high expectations for whatever relationship I might have with my soulmate. Nothing to do with you specifically. I just didn't hold out very high hopes."

That’s something Javi could relate to. He chuckles and shakes his head. “So we both weren’t looking forward to meet the ‘perfect match’ the universe chose for us, huh?”

"It doesn't sound like it." Another tick in the column of things that the girls had said you have in common. The irony certainly isn't lost on you. "But here we are."

“Soulmates were kind of ruined for me.” Javi figures you should at least know why he had been so unenthusiastic.

“How so?” Not all soulmate pairs are perfect. You know that. You’ve seen plenty of it in your own life. But it sounds like he has a very specific example of why he wasn’t looking forward to meeting his.

“I was engaged.” Javi figures you deserved to know. “Hell, I stood her up, didn’t go to the church.” He huffs slightly. “You ever meet someone and you’re told that they are perfect for you – they are what you are supposed to want – but there’s just something you can’t put your finger on?”

“Yeah,” you huff slightly, acknowledging your own memory even as you nod. “She lied to you about being your soulmate?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Told me that she was pregnant too, doubling down on the pressure for me to tie the knot.” He had felt sick and trapped, hating how he was being dragged along to this elaborate wedding that was supposed to be the talk of the town. It was, but not for the reasons Lorraine’s family had hoped for.

“Shit.” That takes some serious balls to go into, with lies that big, and you’re instantly furious with this woman for being so selfish.

“I got drunk and got the tattoo the night before the wedding.” He explains. “I was already upset my mother couldn’t be there, so the tattoo was a way to keep her with me.” He picks up his glass and takes a sip. “That morning— shit it was probably four-thirty? I was hungover and needed to talk to her. Figured I could get around that old wives’ tale about it being bad luck to see the bride of the sun wasn’t up yet.” He laughs at himself. “She was wearing’ these little red shorts. Tiny things that she honestly would have been better just not wearing anything to bed. But she didn’t have a tattoo.”

“Hell of a way to find out.” Instinctively, you reach across the table. Fingertips find fingertips and even though you only touch him for a second you try to offer some small comfort. “I’m so sorry. She sounds horribly selfish.”

Javi looks down at his hand and yours still just within reach. “I didn’t even confront her.” He admits. “Couldn’t think. Just left and went through the motions of getting ready to get married to a woman who had lied to me, who had manipulated me.” He shakes his head. “When we were driving to the church….I just drove by and kept going.”

“I can’t lie,” you swallow a laugh, not wanting to seem insensitive. “I would have made a scene. That bitch’s dirty deeds would have been smeared all over town.”

“It came out. But she was more humiliated, standing there waiting for me to show up when everyone was at the church.” He shrugs. “But if that hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t be in the DEA.”

“You would have stayed home instead of joining?” It’s only in this moment that you realize you don’t even know where he’s from.

“I was a Webb County Sheriff’s deputy.” He tells you. “I took the job after college so I could take care of my mama. Lorraine wanted me to quit and go work for her dad, and I didn’t want to do that, but she probably would have gotten her way if we got married.”

“Webb County…” Running through the Rolodex of relatively trivial information in your head, it takes you a few seconds before you place the department but then your head pops up like you’ve won a prize. “You’re from Texas.”

“Laredo.” He confirms and he’s curious how you know that. “Although I don’t think that Texas has the only Webb county.”

“I’m sure they don’t.” You can agree to that right away. “But if I combine the fact that you specifically were a sheriff’s deputy it narrows down the number of states you could be from, and then cross-referenced with what’s left of your accent and the fact that there more than ten DEA field offices in Texas, including one in Webb County? It…it narrows it down.” Revealing how your mind skips around to make connections and your weirdly encyclopedic knowledge of certain aspects of government organization makes you fluster at the table and look away, assuming that he’ll find it uncomfortable or off putting like so many others do. It’s useful for your work to be able to do this sort of thing, but people tend to find it odd.

He tilts his head and studies you for a moment, impressed by the way that you filtered through the pieces of information to come to your – correct – answer. “Huh.” He muses. “Maybe I should come to you with information rather than the fucking CIA.”

“Journalism is also a way to utilize all the weird factoids in my head,” you admit, quietly pleased that he doesn’t immediately think you’re some freak of nature for the way your mind makes connections.

“It’s fighting through the bullshit useless information to put the pieces together that you need.” He nods. “You’re analytical, but compassionate. I can see that in your writing. You don’t twist the facts to your own personal bias.”

“My opinion has no place in the writing. If I wanted to do that I’d be writing OpEds or I could have stayed in the gossip columns where they wanted to keep me.” With both of your dinners finished, you nudge the empty container away and take your whiskey glass back in hand. Not necessarily to drink it, but for the comfort of holding it. “I’m sorry we didn’t talk like this weeks ago.”

“You didn’t like me.” He shrugs. “I don’t know if I would have liked me either, under the circumstances.” He snorts. “Hell, I barely like myself now.”

“I understand that feeling very well.” Your shrug matches his. “Maybe we’re every bit as alike as the girls said after all.”

“Look.” Javi leans back and searches his jeans pockets for his pack of cigarettes. “I’m not going to tell you we need to be together or whatever.” He pulls out the half-crushed pack and takes one, offering the pack to you. “You didn’t come down here to find love and I sure as hell didn’t.”

"But?" You prompt, hearing the word in his tone and accepting a cigarette gratefully. You always crave a smoke after a meal and it's nice to not have to explain that to the person you're eating with.

“But….” He takes a long drag off the cigarette and blows it out towards the ceiling. “It’s dangerous here for anyone going after Pablo.” He warns, glancing back at you. “There’s a bounty on my head.”

"It would be easy enough for anyone to think I'm going after him, too. My articles are about how Escobar is destroying the country and the people that he alleges he's fighting for." Sitting back in your seat, you take a matching drag of your own cigarette and exhale the smoke slowly afterward. "I'm not going to back off, if that's what you're implying."

“Didn’t think you would.” He admits. If the girls think you two are alike, then you would have a stubborn streak as wide as the Rio Grande.

"Alright." Trying not to sound as frustrated as you temporarily feel, you bring your head down and look forward at him again. "So I'm not going anywhere, and we've established that neither of us came here looking for some world-changing love story. Does that leave us as acquaintances? Friends? People who occasionally pass each other in the halls of the embassy and happen to share marks?"

“I don’t have those answers.” He admits, flicking the ashes into the empty take out container. “What’s your gut feeling?”

Without meaning to, you half-laugh and take another drag from your cigarette. "That we're both too stubborn," you admit on the exhale. "So we shouldn't decide anything, and just let life fall into place however it's going to."

He smirks slightly and tilts his head in acknowledgement. It’s a relief that you are on the same page he is. It makes the nagging guilt he’s had for wanting to see Vanessa and Freckles, subsequently why he’s stayed away, disappear. “So we sit on it.”

"Sit on it." There is a twist in your gut that is both guilt and relief. Not making it out to be more than just a fact of your lives is a relief, but the guilt that you maybe should hangs heavily on your shoulders. "Not bury it, and not shout about it. Just let it exist."

He lifts the rest of his drink in a salute before he tips it back. Swallowing it in one go and wondering why it doesn’t feel as good as it should.

******

Spending the night in the same guest room that you spent a week in while you were caring for Helena doesn't feel as odd as it could, but the intensity of knowing that your soulmate is sleeping right down the hall has you lying awake staring at the ceiling for more hours in the night than you would like to admit. It isn't until Chi-Chi leaves the doorway to climb into bed beside you that you find any sleep at all, but at least you can clock a few hours before sunrise starts to wake the block.

Javi rarely sleeps past five in the morning. Too acclimated to years on the ranch, needing to get up before school to feed livestock, clean out stalls or whatever his pop might need help with. Now it’s his body craving that cigarette he smokes as he takes that first, glorious piss of the day and then shuffles into the shower. Once he’s out, he realizes that he doesn’t have anything to do today, and it makes him ill, knowing he should already be raring to go to the scene – if he had even come home the night before. Now, he decides that maybe you’d might like some breakfast and he slips out of the apartment to run down to the market for some fresh fruits and see if Señora Rodriguez is selling those little pastries that he sometimes grabs.

Showering seems superfluous since you only have the same clothes to put on again afterward, but you go into the second bathroom you're accustomed to using to wash your face and wish you had your toothbrush. It's futile, but Javier was kind to let you stay last night when he didn't strictly have to. You'll go home and get out of his hair today if you can. The comfort lying low in your belly is knowing that the next time you run into him in the halls of the embassy, neither of you will flee or fight. For now all you can do is wander out to the kitchen, following the smell of coffee and cigarettes.

There are files spread on the kitchen table, a half-drunk cup of coffee and cigarette burning in the ashtray. He had waited to tear into the bag of pastries and fruit until you woke up and he’s proud of himself for that. He had even left a second coffee cup out for you to pour yourself a cup. “Morning.” He murmurs, still reading a CentraSpy report from two days ago.

"Morning." During the week of staying here you had paid attention only to Helena, and mostly hadn't even been speaking to Javier. So this sight is something of a surprise as you move to the coffee maker to pour yourself a cup. "You're an early riser."

“Raised on a ranch.” He glances up at you, watching your ass for a moment and trying to ignore the tug of lust in his belly before looking back down at the page. You didn’t want to hop into bed with him and he shouldn’t complicate things. “Mama would make you miss breakfast before you missed the bus for school.” He chuckles. “And your chores had better be done or you would get an earful when you got home.”

Small town. Texas. Sheriff's deputy. Ranch kid. The puzzle pieces of Javier Peña drop into place one by one. "Do you ever miss it?" You ask, bringing your coffee over to the table after you've fixed it. You don't mind sitting with your mug in your lap so he can keep his papers spread out everywhere. It's his space, after all.

He snorts. “If you had asked me that two years ago, I would have told you ‘fuck no’ so fast it would have knocked you over.” He reaches for his cup and sits back. “Now? It’s not as boring as I remember. Or maybe I’m just tired of the excitement of getting shot at here.”

"That's...fair, honestly." One half-glance at the papers around him tells you they're all about work, and you would be lying if you expressed any surprise at all. You're the same way. Always working, always composing in your head and stamping headlines on your life as you go about your day. "I bet even being a deputy would be a hell of a lot quieter than what you're doing now."

“Telling Mr. Johnson he can’t ride his fucking lawnmower to the liquor store. Cock blocking on the little lot where couples like to go to fuck.” He smirks. “Telling Mrs. Taylor that her husband was not abducted by aliens, he’s just a fucking prick. It was fucking cake.”

"Sounds like a retirement job." Not that you've really ever known anyone who retired. But it sounds like something that people say when they aren't raised scraping by every meal of every day. You're lucky as hell to be where you are now, and you know it.

“Yeah.” It was too boring for him at the time. That desire to do good and get the fuck out of town and away from the mess he caused with Lorraine, the DEA had come knocking and he couldn’t pack his bags fast enough.

"Maybe one day," you offer, going back to sipping your coffee.

"Maybe." He doubts it but he doesn't say that this job is dangerous enough that he will count his lucky stars if he gets out of Colombia alive.

"My Mom always says that if you don't think about what comes next, you'll give up on what's here right now." But he didn't ask for your family advice and you're not going to push it on him, so you offer him a small smile and reach for your first cigarette of the day. "Are you a breakfast person?"

"Been waiting on you." He nods towards the kitchen counter. "Picked those up this morning."

“You didn’t have to wait.” It’s sweet that he did, in a way that makes your chest tighten and think things you have to banish from your mind immediately, so instead you pop up from your chair and grab the bag to bring over to the table.

"Be rude to eat without you." He points out, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Is that that Southern hospitality I’ve heard so much about?” You set the bag down in the place he clears for it on the table and go back for two plates. Your cigarette is smoldering in the ashtray but you care less about that than whatever this morning patter is that the two of you have going. “We don’t have much of that where I’m from.”

"So why do you like it so much?" He asks, curious about your own history. "Where you're from."

“New Englanders are straightforward.” The bag has two arepas con huevos and two roscón — presumably one for each of you — and some assorted small cookies that are spiced and baked hard so they’re especially dunked in coffee. It’s a sweet gesture in more than one way, and you distribute the pastries evenly between you. “Everybody says what they mean, and sometimes they say shit things but then the same cranky ass old guys will turn around and give you the shirt off their back or the food off their table to help you.”

“You haven’t met many Texans, have you?” Javi snorts. “They are blunt, proud as fuck from being from Texas, but they also work together.” He shrugs. “Old man Sanchez had a heart attack in his field, crop of hay was going to go to ruin, so everyone met at his place and put up all the hay for winter for his herds while he was in the hospital.”

“Sounds like two groups cut from the same cloth.” Which is wholly a good thing in your book, and goes a big step to explain how you’re so similar coming from very different places. “You guys are the ranchers and we’re the fishermen.”

"Surf and turf." He chuckles slightly at his admittedly bad joke and shrugs. "We should open a restaurant."

“My father was a chef.” The morsel of information is offered up just like the food between you. “So it’s not a terrible idea.”

"Was?" He catches the phrasing and he wants to know more.

“He had a heart attack a couple a years ago.” Like you’re slipping into the memory, you stare at the pastry in your hand rather than at Javier. “Out on the fishing boat with my oldest brother. It was barely dawn and they had a haul to get in, so he ignored it. The second one he had, before dinner service that night, that’s what killed him.”

"I'm sorry." He really is. He knows how it squeezes your heart and doesn't let you breathe when you are swimming in grief so deep if feels like you are drowning. He sometimes thinks that it might have been because of his grief that he had ended up so lost in his relationship with Lorraine. He had been anchorless without his mother and she had swooped in and comforted him.

"Thank you." It means more coming from him because he knows exactly how much it hurts to lose a parent, giving you an odd and unwanted comradery in that way. "It's...pronounced. The things we have in common."

"Losing someone you love is shitty." He agrees.

"It does." You can agree to that wholeheartedly. So far these shared meals with Javier have been eye-opening, but not necessarily happy. The conversations tend to be more serious, which just might be the type of people you are. "I try not to let it overtake the other things, but it's not easy."

"Is that why you came to Colombia?" He asks, wondering if like him, you are running away. His own journey here had been a little longer, having to go through the academy and then his first post, but you are both here for a reason. "To escape?"

"Not consciously." Although now that he mentions it, there is a distinct possibility that that was an undercurrent in your decision making. "I fought for this assignment. My editor wanted somebody on the ground covering Escobar and I argued that every paper is reporting just on Escobar, but nobody is talking about the people in Colombia and how they're being affected by everything going on down here. How Escobar is ruining lives."

"It's a good angle" Javi shifts in his seat. "Some sing his praises, but they've never been touched by his violence."

"That was pretty much my point." And frankly, it's a comfort to know that it's coming across in your articles. "He might be doing good for some people on the surface here. Handing out money, claiming he's working for the people when he tries to run for office. But the fact is that he's hurting more than he's helping. And the hurt is spreading worldwide."

Javi snorts. "They don't fucking care though." He is bitter about that. "It's a fucking party favor to them. Something to experiment with and cut on a mirror in the big house that they are partying in. They don't see the fucking twelve-year-old overdosing on the street or the workers that have outlived their usefulness, rotting in the goddamn jungle."

"I know." You nod solemnly. "That's why I'm writing about it."

He watches you, his respect for you growing even more. After a moment, he nods. "Then it's a good thing you're here."

******

He wouldn't let you go back to your building alone. Something about wanting to make sure it was safe, but you couldn't really hear him over the blood pounding in your ears when he held open the door for you like some kind of fucking gentleman. Southern. You remind yourself, fully ready to reprimand your own stupidity into submission. It means nothing. It's just good manners.

But when he pulled up outside the club a half an hour later, you were suddenly very glad that he had insisted on coming with you. Chi-Chi growled low in the backseat, seeing so many men around the building, but you reached back and shushed her with some gentle pets that once again thanked her for somehow not spending all night making the same noise at Javier. The policemen outside were all busy and some of the club windows had been shot out, but all of it was taped off to prevent people from coming inside.

"Shit..." you murmur, sitting back in the passenger's seat as you slowly process the fact that you can't go home yet.

Javier frowns as he throws his Jeep into park. There's Steve, camera in his hands as he takes photos of a body laying outside the club. "Shit." He hisses, knowing there is no way he can poke around without being seen.

"Go around the block and park on the next street down," you tell him, annoyed that this day has taken an inconvenient turn. "I'll sneak in through the side door and grab some of my stuff. Enough to last me a few days at a hotel, at least." It was enough that you showed up at his place last night unannounced after having been there another week previous to that. You're not going to invade his space anymore.

He furrows his brow and shakes his head. "You don't have to stay in a hotel." He protests, not happy about you being in some hotel. Even if he's not got any right to tell you what to do. "Unless you'd rather have some space besides my guest room?"

"I don't mind your place." If you were being totally honest with him, not feeling isolated or alone is a lot better for you. Even with Inez in the next apartment over, living on your own had been lonely. "I just don't want to put you out."

"Because I spend so much time in my spare bedroom." He rolls his eyes at you sarcastically and frowns again. "Use it." He urges you. "You don't have to waste your money on a hotel." He shrugs, knowing that he sounds a little overprotective. "After all, it's because of my team that your apartment is now a crime scene."

"Why don't you and Chi-Chi stay in the car and I'll pack up some things quickly." If he's offering, you won't turn down a free place to stay. You'll do your part and keep the place clean so he barely recognizes you're even there except for putting a little food in his fridge now and then. "I guarantee my landlady is still with her son. I can drop our four-legged friend off to her later today."

"No." He shakes his head, knowing that someone could stop you from entering. Plus he can get a quick look to see if anyone important was taken out. "I'll come with you."

You raise one discerning eyebrow at him and motion to the backseat. "That means all three of us have to go in. You think you can sneak Scooby Doo's sister over here past all those cops?"

"Not going to sneak her in anywhere." Javi smirks and looks back at the dog. "She's going to go to work with me. Aren't ya, girl?"

For perhaps the first time in her life, Chi-Chi awoos softly for a man instead of for any of her usually preferred female companions.

"Well hell," you snort, shaking your head at both of them. "I guess that's a yes."

It takes a minute to get her out of the car and her leash unwound from her body. Then there are the two minutes that she has to sniff around the side door where she normally comes outside to pee and takes a squat while Javier smokes a cigarette.

It's ridiculous to watch, as the large and normally fearsome guard dog trots happily at Javier's side, but one intrusive thought breaks through the others and you snort under your breath in amusement as Chi-Chi indicates she's ready to go again. "I was right," you point out, smirking at Javier when you pull out your key to the building's back door. "All women really do roll over for you."

He rolls his eyes and huffs at you. Pursing his lips and murmuring a curse. "Shut up." He manages, although it's not exactly vehement. "Do you want me to come up with you?" He doubts anyone has ventured upstairs, but he doesn't want you to be uncomfortable.

"Might as well," you nod toward the stairs, letting the warmth of friendly teasing instead of annoyed barbs warm through you. "My living room has that good view of the front of the building and approaching street that you knew Alex was using."

"We were watching to club." Javier admits. "Saw the fucker there. The bartender giving him your note."

"I kind of figured." Climbing the stairs quickly, you reach your floor as quietly as you can and turn back to make sure you don't lose Javier on the stairs. "Otherwise how could you have actually gotten the note? It's not like the CIA and DEA cooperate. Even I know that."

He smirks, not at all embarrassed about stealing that fucker's note. "For a spook, he's shit at keeping track of things." He huffs.

"He was probably distracted." At your door, you scratch Chi-Chi's head and fit your key in the lock to shove it open. "I've been thinking about it ever since you pointed it out, and I think he went in with the intention of actually hitting on Inez."

"And he found you instead?" He asks, wondering what you saw in that schmuck. Granted he was tall, blonde, classically handsome. Everything he was not. Maybe your preference was completely different than the soulmate the universe gave you.

Pushing into your apartment, you shrug sheepishly and drop your purse on the table by the door to let him in behind you. "I was lonely," you admit, not feeling particularly proud about it.

"That happens." He knows that firsthand. He looks around the apartment curiously, eager to get an inside view of your life.

"I'll grab some clothes and stuff. Chi-Chi's allowed on my furniture, so she'll probably go sit on the couch if you let her off leash." He'll poke and prod. That's fine with you. It's what you would do if you were him – yet another similarity between you to note.

"Take your time." He moves over to the window and looks out, a little irritated that it was indeed a good fucking view. Pissed that he hadn't thought of that before Alex had.

You disappear into your room, glad that you had just done a big load of laundry after returning from Javier's place the first time and that you had neatly put everything away. It made it a hell of a lot easier to simply remove stacks of clothes from your dresser and pile them up in the one small suitcase you had arrived to Colombia with. After having been here for a little while you had accumulated a few more things, but most of them can just stay put. Your toiletries go into a bag to be packed away, and your work has its own tote bag. At least your typewriter was already packed up in its case. That saves you some time.

Your space is neat, not too many personal things, although he picks up a framed photo of what must be your family. “Nice looking family.” He murmurs to himself, the photo obviously taken before your father passed.

"My parents' thirtieth wedding anniversary," you tell him, knowing what photo he's looking at. "My Mom, my two older brothers, then me and my Dad. We're all dressed up because my aunt and uncle insisted on throwing them an anniversary party."

“It’s nice.” You look happy, beaming from the photo. “Soulmates?”

"Yeah." When you come out of your room, you're toting a full suitcase and heading for your work things on the coffee table. "They met at the beach. My Mom was out with her girlfriends one day when she was twenty and they started catcalling this group of guys down the other side of the sand." The memory of the story makes you crack a smile. "Reverse of the usual situation, but my mother isn't a shy woman. We used to go back to that beach every single summer. Usually three or four times a summer if we could manage it between everybody's work and sports and camp and everything else."

He laughs at the mental image and smirks. “Most men actually like it when a woman hits on them.” He agrees. “It’s nice to be chased every now and again.”

"Yeah..." It makes your cheeks burn to remember the times in your life you've attempted it – and how the one time it didn't go terribly wrong it was a CIA douchebag who didn't even reciprocate your interest in any real way. "I guess I just...never understood a lot of it. But my Mom is drop dead gorgeous even after three kids, so more power to her, I guess."

Javi studies the picture again. “Yeah, you look just like her.” He murmurs offhand.

“Except…not.” You wave one hand at yourself and shake your head, going back to stuffing your work things into their tote bag.

He frowns down at the picture sighs, not liking that you just wave off his compliment. But you aren’t really his problem to tackle. “I’m going to go downstairs.” He calls out.

“I’ll be down in a few.” Seeing that it’s flashing, you push the button on your answering machine to listen to your message while you get the last of your things squared away.

Javi reclips the leash and hurries down the stairs as Chi-Chi half drags him down. Chuckling to himself when the large dog growls softly at the crunch of glass under boots. "It's okay, girl." he soothes when he is standing by her in the small hallway that connects the apartments to the club.

“Hi mija.” The message is from your landlady, who sounds tired and shaken. “I am sorry for the short notice, but if you are listening to this you will know that the police have control of our building. We cannot return until they release it, and since you were kind enough to take Chi-Chi – thank you for your call otherwise I would have worried – mijita I am too old to be running that place anymore. I’m selling it, honey, I’m sorry. If you need help finding a new place to live, let me know. I will give you a wonderful reference. Call me at my son’s when you get this.”

“Fuck.” You groan out loud, looking around you and realizing that you need to pack up more than just a few days’ worth of things. It’s going to take you a hell of a lot more than a few minutes to get this all squared away, but there’s nothing you can do about that.

Almost a full half hour later you’re dragging things downstairs, including a plastic container of Chi-Chi’s food and treats, and a bag of her toys along with all your own stuff. “Bad news,” you tell Javier, when he looks at you with confusion.

"Are you moving in?" Javi half jokes, half wonders what the hell you had in the bags. It looks like a hell of a lot more than what you had brought when you were taking care of Helena.

“My landlady got spooked by the cops and all the agents crawling everywhere and she’s selling the building. I’m gonna have to find a new place.” It makes you wonder where the hell Inez is going to go since this place was her home and her work, but you’ll call her later to check in. After you call Señora Perrín about getting back this month’s rent since you haven’t even been in the place for more than a few days this month. “I’ll call her tonight about returning Chi-Chi to her and I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I can. I’m sure the last thing you want is roommates.”

It's a surprise, Javi sighing and looking around the area. "Shit." He hisses. "I'm sorry." He is. Feeling like this is also his fault. Maybe if he had been involved with the SearchBloc raid, there might have been less bloodshed.

“It’s not your fault.” He’s the last person you blame. After all, he wasn’t here last night. His partner might get a piece of your mind, though. “Guess I just became fodder for my own column.”

He snorts. "Another victim." He agrees. "This time because of us instead of Escobar." He doesn't tell you that you can just live with him. That would be too much. For both of you.

“We should get out of here.” It feels intrusive to be here now, but it feels intrusive to know you’re now going back to his apartment with no idea of when you’ll be able to leave. The whole thing is uncomfortable and grating and you don’t like not knowing what the next step is.

"Is that all you have?" He moves to take some of the bags from you, happy that he has a vehicle that can hold more than the little box car you drive. That thing is a rolling hazard.

“In this country?” You nod, reluctantly letting him take some things from your arms. “It was a furnished apartment, that’s why I took the place. This is all my shit, plus some things for Bogotá’s best guard doggy.”

"Okay." He nods and moves to the door, pushing outside to hold the door opened for you. "Then let’s get you back to the apartment so you can get settled."

“Javier, I—” He doesn’t question it. Doesn’t hem or haw. Doesn’t even hesitate. And suddenly your father’s favorite words of wisdom float to the top of your mind, about how your soulmate comes into your life when you need them most. You have no idea how true that is, Dad.

“Thank you,” you say finally, offering him a grateful smile.

Javi nods, always having a hard time accepting thanks and whistles for Chi-Chi to stop sniffing the side of the building when you walk out. "We'll stop at the market on the way home." He offers. "I know you'd rather have some food in the fridge."

“That will work.” Loading up the car together, you get Chi-Chi settled and give her a treat for being so good. Somewhere in the back of your mind you fear there is a strong possibility of her spending at least one more night with you so you would prefer her to be happy. Once everything is inside and you’re buckling your seatbelts, you turn to look at Javier again. “Give it some thought and let me know what you think a fair number for rent would be. Since I’m basically subletting your guest room now, until I find a new place.”

Javi grunts, knowing that he won't take money for you using his room. He's not that kind of person and he already pays well below market value for his apartment. Instead, he starts the Jeep and throws it into gear. He had managed to get an overall view of the scene, so he's happy. "You know what we need to get?"

“At the market? Yeah.” There are a good handful of meals you can make easily and well, and those ingredients aren’t hard to come by. But as the child of a career cook, you know your way around a kitchen. At least you can cook some decent meals for Javier as a thank you.

"Sorry I don't keep much there." He huffs. "Honestly, I'm not home much."

“Don’t worry about it. Youngest kid of a chef, remember?” That grateful smile still tugs at your lips. “I do about half my work at home and I’m a fair cook.”

He nods, not as upset about you staying as he ever imagined he would be. He had resisted living with Lorraine before the wedding and he's never actually had a roommate unless his parents counted, which they didn't. If he wanted to go see Freckles or Vanessa, he would just go to them, but maybe he would find another girl.

One that you hadn't also slept with.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

BFoW: @haileymorelikestupid @theorganasolo @missladym1981 @alexiamargot06

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Javier Peña #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x you #Javier Peña x female reader #Javier Peña x f!reader #Javier Peña x plus size reader #plus size reader #Narcos #Narcos fanfic #soulmate au

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mari-lair · 3 months ago

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Something I found especially interesting after this chapter was the difference in views between Teru and Akane. More specifically I think it’s interesting how Akane claims to hate supernaturals, just like how Teru does but he still goes out of his way in this chapter to defend Mirai and Kako… Obviously we’ve seen in the court arc that he clearly does care for them but still I just think it’s interesting and was wondering if you had any good thoughts and analysis on it (after all your so good at that kinda thing :))))

Akane has a reluctant soft spot for the clock keepers, deep down, but I'm a firm believer that his lackluster attempt to defend Mirai and Kako wasn't born from a place of faith or care, it was out of fear. He shares the same fear as Teru. I talk about why I interpreted it like that here.

But the chapter still show a very interesting diference in view between Teru and Akane when they learn Yugi Amane used to be a teacher.

Akane is the one who calls this teacher a murderer. Teru's focus is on how he is an adult here.

Teru also calls him by name. Consistently.

Usually, he only refers to supernaturals by their role or their seat position. Doesn't matter if he is happy, angry, or neutral. It's never by name.

This shows Teru is still separating one timeline from the other. It's hard to say if he believes Amane is a bad person or not, but Teru does seem to have decided Amane Yugi is a person, not a supernatural.

He brought up Amane's happiness to make Nene reconsider staying in this world, 100%, but I do think there is a hint of honesty to this question. I wonder what he think of the idea of a ghost, a doomed being, having an actual life, with a job, and such.

It contrasts with how Akane is treating this timeline as a reality. deciding 'Hanako is still Hanako so he is a murderer' despite not knowing anything about Professor Yugi, and 'Aoi is still the same Aoi at heart. I love her' even after seeing her differences from og Aoi.

Akane is just following his program. ("Aoi is doubting my love!" -> "I will reassure her she is the only one for me.") Which falls on their old pre-severance routine, since the original Aoi main issue used to be her lack of belief she is lovable and while the New Timeline Aoi was acting differently, she still displayed the same possessive and insecure behaviors as pre-severance Aoi used to, not wanting Akane to be too close to a girl. Still, Akane has no way of knowing if this engaged Aoi is the same as the og one. He is just assuming based on the old timeline.

(unrelated but it's interesting that Akane went from "I'll love you my whole life" to "I'll love you my whole life... No, even after that" cause he is the last person to think about becoming a supernatural. It makes me wonder if part of him is aware each timeline is a completely different world, a different life... but I don't have enough insight on him yet for that, is just food for thought/headcanons.)

The main gag of this chapter is Akane treating others like their old selves while Teru treat them as separated from their old timeline counterparts.

Teru is being a brat here, but he is right. This Aoi has none of the experiences Akane has. Akane needs to adapt.

Similarly, when he talks about the person Nene fell in love with, he isn't talking about a teacher Nene never met, he is talking about the ghost murderer we are familiar with.

I think if I were to put the difference in their view (not their approach just their view) in a very simplified box, I would say Teru sees supernaturals as unsavable and dangerous, while Akane sees them as unforgivable and dangerous.

#thank you #i'm glad you enjoy my analysis!#tbhk #yugi amane #amane yugi #hanako #akane aoi #aoi akane #teru minamoto #toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #jshk #minamoto teru #character analysis

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chuuyasfanboy · 11 months ago

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Heya^^ feel free to ignore this request but I'm dying to see more of beast Dazai that isn't angst so I'd like to request some headcanons about beast Dazai finding out that in every other universe where he lives he has the same s/o, aka reader, I just wanna hear out how he is gonna react to such news.

Anyways, love your writing! Hope you have a wonderful day or night and don't forget to hydrate! (I'm so sorry if my expectations are weirdly worded)

I have 3 matchups and another request to do but OH MY GOD BEAST GUYS FINALLY I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR MY MOMENT I LOVE BEAST

Also you're so right, we do need more non-angsty Beast. As much as I eat the FUCK up of sad Dazai, I love happy Dazai too, lets give him attention!!!!! Let's also totally ignore the gif I chose is seconds after he just stabbed himself- he's smiling, it's fine guys, he's fine

Beast!Dazai x Reader

Dazai has gone through many worlds, all in the sake of keeping one man alive

Though, he'd be lying to himself if he said there weren't consistencies

It was strange, no matter how different the circumstances were, some things stay the same regardless

His bandages, for one

Whether he took them off later, wore them differently, or drowned himself alive in them, they always remained in some capacity

In the original, he wore them more as a child, but took off a majority of them as he grew and changed

In another, he developed completely, and removed them altogether as a show of improvement

And in the current one, they remained on the opposite side of his body, proving that things must be different, even just a bit

But those weren't the only consistencies either

Chuuya was also there, always

Whether an enemy or righthand man

Once he took the other with him to the ADA

In another world he died

And in another they never met, only watched from a distance

And then, of course, there was you

Only, yours was far different from the many other similarities he'd documented

While his focus was always on Oda, he couldn't deny an attachment he'd formed

You were always by his side. Never an enemy, never leaving, never changing

You were just you

It was almost strange, how you always seemed to trust him no matter who he was, no matter how he acted

But it made him feel truly wanted, it made him almost reconsider certain measures he decided to take for the sake of his goals

Almost

Humming a soft melody into his ear as you worked the stressed knots out of his hair

You brought a light to his life that only Oda could compare to, something intangible, something he hoped he wouldn't lose

And he hoped all his visions of his other lives proved that he couldn't

Because, as stated, you were always with him

You were always there to calm his nerves, to give him sweet kisses and a loving embrace

Once, in another life, he'd stressed himself to much that he got a terrible nosebleed and passed out for hours

And when he awoke, you were the only face he was greeted with

Not a nurse, not Chuuya, not even Oda

You

Perhaps he could consider you a second goal

It would be a nice side effect to keep you alive as well

He tried the same approach he did with Oda in this world, avoided meting you altogether

Maybe if you never interacted, you'd be saved from the whims of fate

He'd almost been convinced you were aware of the realities as well

Because somehow, you still found your way into his arms

And he into yours

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estapa-edwards · 8 months ago

Text

TUTOR - E.EDWARDS

paring: Ethan Edwards x fem! reader

word count: 4.9k

requested? no

warnings: use of y/n. slow burn!

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The University of Michigan was a place of both challenge and opportunity, especially for those who were part of its renowned hockey team. Mark Estapa, my brother, was one of the key players on the team, and his friend Ethan Edwards was right there with him. The name Ethan Edwards was not unfamiliar to me; I had heard it countless times from Mark, usually followed by tales of impressive goals and game-winning plays.

It all started one afternoon at the hockey rink. I was there watching Mark practice, as I often did, cheering him on from the sidelines. After practice, Coach Naurato approached me, his expression serious, a stark contrast to the lively demeanor he exhibited during hockey practices.

"Y/N," he began, "I've heard from Mark how smart you are. Ethan is struggling with his academics, and I think you would be a great tutor for him. Would you consider helping him out?"

The idea caught me off guard. Ethan Edwards? The very same person who had made more than one snide remark about me in class? The thought of spending extra time with him was far from appealing.

"Coach," I hesitated, "I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Ethan and I don't exactly get along."

Coach Naurato sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I understand, Y/N, but I believe you're the best person to help him. Please, just think about it."

The weight of the decision pressed on me as I left the rink. The thought of helping someone who had shown me little respect was difficult to swallow. However, the importance of the hockey team to Mark, and the trust Coach Naurato placed in me, made me reconsider.

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After a few days of internal debate, I finally decided to give it a shot. I approached Ethan after our next class together, a hesitant smile on my face.

"Ethan, Coach Naurato told me about the tutoring," I started, trying to sound as friendly as possible. "I'm willing to help you out if you're serious about improving your grades."

Ethan looked surprised, his icy blue eyes narrowing slightly. "Why would you do that? We're not exactly best friends, Y/N."

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my patience intact. "This isn't about us becoming friends, Ethan. It's about helping you stay on the team and doing right by Mark."

There was a moment of silence, tension hanging in the air. Finally, Ethan nodded reluctantly. "Alright, fine. When do we start?"

Our first tutoring session was nothing short of a disaster. Ethan's attitude was immediately confrontational, making the atmosphere tense and uncomfortable from the start. He slouched in his chair, arms crossed defiantly, as he looked at the math problems I had prepared for him.

"Are we ever going to use this in real life?" he scoffed, pushing the paper away from him as if it were contaminated.

I took a deep breath, trying to maintain my composure. "Ethan, this is basic algebra. It's not just about solving for 'x'; it's about developing problem-solving skills that are essential for understanding more complex concepts later on."

Ethan rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "Problem-solving skills? I've got plenty of those on the ice. What's the point of all this?"

I could feel my frustration growing, but I tried to stay focused on the task at hand. "The point, Ethan, is to help you improve academically so you can continue to play hockey. Coach Naurato believes in you, and so do I. But you have to be willing to put in the effort."

Ethan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms even tighter. "Well, this is a waste of time. I don't need your help."

The session ended with both of us frustrated and no real progress made. I left the classroom that day questioning whether I was the right person for the job, doubting my ability to help someone who seemed so determined to resist. Ethan, on the other hand, seemed to revel in his own stubbornness, as if proving a point by refusing to cooperate.

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One evening, Ethan and I were deep into our tutoring session. We had been working on a particularly challenging math problem for what felt like hours, both of us growing increasingly frustrated as we struggled to find the solution.

"Just think it through step by step," I encouraged, pointing to the problem on the paper in front of us. "You're almost there, Ethan."

He looked at the problem, then back at me, a look of concentration on his face. Slowly, a spark of understanding appeared in his eyes.

"I think I've got it," he said, his voice filled with excitement.

I watched as he worked through the problem, his pencil moving quickly across the paper. And then, just like that, he arrived at the correct answer.

"Yes! I did it!" Ethan exclaimed, jumping up from his chair.

Caught up in the moment, I jumped up too, and before we knew it, we were hugging each other in celebration. It was a spontaneous, genuine expression of joy and relief, and for a moment, all the tension and awkwardness between us seemed to melt away.

But as quickly as the moment had come, it was gone. We both pulled away awkwardly, realizing the unexpected intimacy of the hug.

"Uh, sorry about that," Ethan mumbled, his cheeks turning a shade of red I had never seen before.

"No, it's okay," I stammered, equally embarrassed.

Outside of our tutoring sessions, however, our relationship remained as strained as ever. Our newfound camaraderie seemed to exist only within the confines of the classroom, disappearing as soon as we stepped outside the door.

During hockey practices and games, Ethan and I were back to being at odds with each other. He would make snide remarks, and I would respond with sarcastic comments of my own. Mark tried to mediate, reminding us both of the progress we had made, but it seemed that our truce was limited to our time spent studying together.

It was frustrating, to say the least, to see Ethan revert to his old ways so easily. But I tried to focus on the positive, reminding myself of the progress we had made and the genuine friendship that was slowly developing between us.

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One Friday night, Mark convinced me to join him and the rest of the team at a frat party. I wasn’t much of a party person, but he promised it would be a good way to unwind and have some fun. Reluctantly, I agreed, not anticipating the events that would unfold.

The frat house was packed with students, the music blaring and the atmosphere electric. Despite my initial reservations, I found myself enjoying the night, laughing and dancing with Mark and his teammates. However, as the night wore on, I made the mistake of indulging a bit too much in the drinks being passed around.

By the time midnight rolled around, I was considerably more intoxicated than I had intended to be. My vision was blurry, my balance unsteady, and the room seemed to spin around me. I knew I needed to get out of there, but the idea of walking home by myself in my current state was daunting.

As I stumbled towards the exit, I felt a hand on my arm, steadying me. I looked up to find Ethan Edwards standing beside me, a concerned expression on his face.

"Y/N, are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine concern.

"I'm fine," I slurred, trying to pull away from him. "I just need to walk home."

Ethan looked at me incredulously, clearly recognizing that I was in no condition to make it home safely on my own.

"You're not walking home like this," he said firmly. "I'll drive you."

I scoffed at his suggestion, my intoxicated mind unable to process the genuine concern in his eyes.

"I am not driving home with you, are you crazy?" I snapped, my words slurring together.

Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Look, Y/N, I know we don't get along, but I'm not going to let you walk home alone like this. It's not safe."

Despite my intoxicated state, I knew he was right. Reluctantly, I nodded, allowing him to guide me towards his car.

The car ride was quiet, the tension palpable. I stared out the window, trying to ignore the pounding headache and the nauseous feeling that threatened to overtake me. Ethan drove carefully, his eyes focused on the road ahead, seemingly determined to get me home safely.

As we pulled up to my apartment, I mustered the strength to speak, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Thank you, Ethan," I said, my words slurred but sincere. "I appreciate it."

Ethan glanced over at me, a soft smile on his face. "You're welcome, Y/N. Just... take care of yourself, okay?"

Just as I was about to reply, a sudden wave of nausea washed over me. Panic set in as I realized I was about to be sick.

"Ethan, pull over!" I yelled, my voice frantic.

Without hesitation, Ethan swerved the car to the side of the road, unlocking the doors and jumping out of the car to help. I barely had time to open the door before I was leaning out, vomiting onto the side of the road.

Ethan was right beside me, holding my hair back and rubbing my back soothingly as I emptied my stomach. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, there was a gentleness to his actions that I hadn't expected.

Once I was done, Ethan handed me a bottle of water he had in the car, and I rinsed my mouth out before spitting onto the grass.

"Are you okay?" he asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

I nodded weakly, grateful for his help despite the embarrassment of the situation.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I replied, my voice shaky. "Thank you, Ethan. I'm really sorry about this."

Ethan shook his head, dismissing my apology with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry about it, Y/N. Just make sure you get inside safely, okay?"

I nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted and ready to be home. "I will. Thanks again, Ethan."

As I made my way towards my apartment, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude towards Ethan. Despite our differences and the strained relationship we had, he had shown me kindness and concern in a moment of need.

As I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, taking a moment to collect myself, I realized that perhaps there was more to Ethan Edwards than met the eye. Our relationship was still complicated, but in that vulnerable moment, I couldn't help but feel a newfound respect for him.

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The next day, I woke up with a pounding headache and a sense of regret about the previous night's events. As I tried to piece together the evening, my thoughts kept drifting back to Ethan and his unexpected kindness. I found myself wondering if maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than the cocky, arrogant persona he often displayed.

Later that day, I received a text from Ethan.

Ethan: Hey, Y/N. Just wanted to check in and make sure you're feeling okay after last night. Let me know if you need anything.

I stared at the message for a moment, surprised by his thoughtfulness. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about his character.

Me: Hey Ethan, thanks for checking in. I'm feeling better, just a bit embarrassed about last night. I appreciate your help.

Ethan: No need to be embarrassed. We've all been there. Glad you're feeling better. If you ever need a ride or anything, just let me know.

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During a team dinner at a local restaurant, Ethan couldn't resist making another snide comment. The atmosphere was already buzzing with the excitement of Family Weekend, and I had been invited to join Mark and the team for the special occasion. Despite the festive mood, Ethan seemed determined to maintain our strained relationship.

"So, Y/N," he began, a sly grin on his face, "Do you tutor everyone on the team, or am I just lucky?"

I took a deep breath, trying to maintain my composure. I didn't want to cause a scene in front of Mark and the rest of the team, especially during a family event. "I tutor those who need help, Ethan. It's nothing personal."

He chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Sure, sure," he replied, the underlying tension clear in his tone.

Frustrated and tired of his constant jabs, I pulled Ethan aside, hoping to address the issue privately.

"Ethan, can we talk?" I asked, my voice low and controlled.

He looked at me, seemingly caught off guard by my request. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

"I didn't even want to tutor you," I admitted, my frustration evident. "Coach Naurato asked me to help you because Mark mentioned how much I've helped him with his academics. I agreed because I wanted to help you stay on the team, not because I enjoy being ridiculed by you at every opportunity."

Ethan looked at me, his expression changing from surprise to hurt. "I knew Coach asked you to tutor me because of Mark," he said quietly. "But hearing you say you didn't want to... it stings, Y/N."

I sighed, realizing the impact of my words. "Ethan, it's not that I didn't want to help you improve. It's your attitude towards me that's made this so challenging. Why do you do this to me?"

Ethan looked at me, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. "I don't know, Y/N," he admitted, his voice softer than I had ever heard it. "I guess it's easier to push people away than to admit that I need help."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by his honesty. "So, you're saying all this animosity is just a defense mechanism?"

He shrugged, avoiding my gaze. "Maybe. It's just... I've always had to prove myself, I guess I'm just used to putting up walls."

I took a moment to process his words, feeling a pang of empathy. "Ethan, I get it. We all have our insecurities and ways of protecting ourselves. But that doesn't give you the right to treat me poorly."

He nodded, looking back up at me. "I know, Y/N. I'm sorry. I'll try to do better."

I looked at him, searching his eyes for any sign of sincerity. "Alright, Ethan. I'll give you another chance. But you need to show me that you're serious about changing. And it can't just be in private, Ethan. You need to treat me with respect in front of other people too."

He nodded, determination in his eyes. "I promise, Y/N. Things will change."

Feeling a sense of relief and hope, I impulsively stepped forward and wrapped my arms around Ethan in a brief hug. To my surprise, he hesitated for a moment before cautiously returning the embrace.

Little did we know, Mark had walked into the restaurant at that exact moment and witnessed the entire exchange. A look of suspicion crossed his face as he watched us, his instincts telling him that something had changed between his sister and his teammate.

As Ethan and I pulled apart, we were unaware of the scrutiny we were now under. Mark's suspicions were piqued, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had just occurred between us.

The atmosphere at the dinner table had noticeably shifted, and I couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and anxiety. While Ethan seemed genuinely committed to changing his behavior, the unintended consequence of Mark's newfound suspicion added a layer of complexity to our already complicated relationship.

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As the weeks passed, Ethan and I continued to spend more time together, both during our tutoring sessions and outside of them. Our relationship was slowly evolving, and the mutual animosity we once shared was gradually being replaced by a growing friendship and understanding.

However, Mark began to notice the change in our dynamics. He would often spot us together around campus, studying in the library, grabbing coffee, or even just chatting and laughing in the university courtyard. Despite our best efforts to keep our growing friendship under wraps, it was becoming increasingly difficult to hide the bond that was forming between us.

Mark couldn't shake the feeling that something was going on between his best friend and his sister. The secretiveness of our newfound friendship only heightened his suspicions. Why would Ethan and I keep this a secret from him if there was nothing to hide?

One evening, after a particularly productive tutoring session, Ethan and I were walking back to our dorms when we ran into Mark outside the hockey rink. He looked surprised to see us together, his eyes narrowing as he took in our relaxed demeanor.

"Hey, Y/N, Ethan," Mark greeted, his tone friendly but his eyes betraying a hint of suspicion. "What are you two up to?"

"We just finished a study session," I replied, trying to sound casual. "Ethan's really making progress."

Ethan nodded, offering Mark a genuine smile. "Yeah, Y/N's been a huge help."

Mark studied us for a moment, clearly not buying our casual demeanor. "That's great to hear," he said, his tone still friendly but now laced with curiosity. "You two seem to be spending a lot of time together."

I felt my cheeks heat up, realizing that our secret was becoming harder and harder to keep. "We're just friends, Mark. Nothing more."

Ethan chimed in, "Yeah, just trying to get my grades up and stay on the team."

Mark looked between us, his suspicion not completely alleviated but not wanting to push the issue further. "Alright, just remember, Ethan, she's my sister," he said, half-jokingly but with a serious undertone.

Ethan nodded, "I know, Mark. I'll always respect that."

Despite Mark's attempt to convince himself that there was nothing going on between Ethan and me, his suspicions continued to gnaw at him. He couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal, knowing that the two closest people in his life were keeping something from him. Even though they weren't explicitly dating, the closeness between Ethan and me felt like a betrayal of his trust.

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As days turned into weeks, Mark found himself growing increasingly frustrated and angry. He couldn't understand why Ethan and I would keep our growing relationship a secret from him if there was nothing more to it. The more he thought about it, the more it fueled his suspicion and resentment.

One evening, Mark confronted me about his suspicions. We were alone in our dorm room, and the tension between us was palpable.

"Y/N, I need to know the truth," Mark said, his voice strained with emotion. "Are you and Ethan... more than just friends?"

I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. The truth was that Ethan and I had grown closer over the past few weeks, but we hadn't officially defined our relationship. However, I couldn't deny the growing feelings I had developed for him.

"Mark, I... I don't know what to say," I replied, feeling torn between my loyalty to my brother and my burgeoning feelings for Ethan.

Mark's expression darkened, his anger bubbling to the surface. "Don't play dumb with me, Y/N. I've seen the way you two look at each other, the way you're always together. How could you keep this from me?"

I sighed, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me. "I'm sorry, Mark. I never meant to hurt you. It just... happened."

Mark shook his head, unable to hide his disappointment. "I thought I could trust you, Y/N. I thought Ethan was my friend. But it turns out, I was wrong about both of you."

I reached out to him, desperate to mend our fractured relationship. "Mark, please. I know this is difficult, but I care about Ethan. And I care about you. I don't want to lose either of you."

But Mark pulled away, his trust shattered. "I need some time, Y/N. I need to figure out how to deal with this betrayal."

As he left the room, the weight of his words hung heavy in the air. I knew that repairing the damage to our relationship would take time and effort, but I was determined to do whatever it took to make things right.

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During the next hockey practice, the tension between Mark and Ethan was palpable. Both were competitive and passionate about the sport, but the underlying animosity stemming from Mark's feelings of betrayal added a new level of intensity to their interactions on the ice.

As they found themselves on opposite teams during a scrimmage, Mark's aggression towards Ethan became increasingly evident. He was playing more aggressively than usual, delivering harder checks and playing with a level of determination that seemed fueled by his feelings of anger and betrayal.

Ethan, sensing the change in Mark's demeanor, tried to keep his cool and focus on the game. However, it became increasingly challenging as Mark continued to target him, making the practice more of a personal vendetta than a team exercise.

At one point, during a particularly heated moment in the game, Mark delivered a high check to Ethan, causing him to crash into the boards. The impact was hard, and Ethan fell to the ice, clutching his shoulder in pain.

The coach blew the whistle, signaling an end to the scrimmage and rushing onto the ice to check on Ethan's condition. The entire team gathered around, their concern evident as Ethan struggled to his feet, wincing from the pain.

"Are you okay, Ethan?" Coach Naurato asked, his voice filled with concern.

Ethan nodded, trying to brush off the incident. "I'm fine, just a bit shaken up."

Mark, realizing the gravity of his actions, looked visibly remorseful as he approached Ethan. "I'm sorry, Ethan. I let my emotions get the best of me. That was uncalled for."

Ethan looked at Mark, his expression a mix of pain and understanding. "It's okay, Mark. I get it. But we need to figure this out."

The coach, sensing the need to address the situation immediately, called for a team meeting to discuss the underlying issues and find a way to resolve the tension between Mark and Ethan.

"As a team, we need to support each other, both on and off the ice," Coach Naurato began, addressing the entire team. "Personal issues should not interfere with our performance and unity as a team."

Mark and Ethan exchanged a glance, realizing that their personal issues were affecting not only their relationship but also the team's dynamics and performance.

"We need to find a way to resolve our differences and work together for the sake of the team," Ethan said, breaking the silence.

Mark nodded, his expression serious. "I agree, Ethan. I let my emotions cloud my judgment, and I'm sorry."

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When I found out about the altercation between Mark and Ethan during practice, I was furious. I couldn't believe that their personal issues had escalated to the point where it was affecting the entire team. Determined to resolve the situation once and for all, I called them both over to my apartment.

As they entered, they could sense the anger and frustration in my demeanor. I didn't waste any time getting to the point.

"What the hell were you two thinking?" I exclaimed, my voice filled with anger. "You let your personal issues get in the way of the team's performance, and it's not okay!"

Mark and Ethan exchanged a guilty glance, realizing the gravity of their actions and the impact it had on the team.

Before they could respond, I continued, "I'm tired of this tension between you two. If you have a problem with each other, then deal with it like adults and stop letting it affect the team!"

Mark looked at me, his expression a mix of guilt and understanding. "You're right, Y/N. I let my emotions get the best of me, and I'm sorry. It's not fair to you, Ethan, or the team."

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my anger. "It's not just about the team, Mark. It's about your friendship with Ethan and your trust in me. I can't believe you would let this situation escalate to the point where it affects our relationship."

Mark looked at me, his expression softening. "Y/N, I've thought about it a lot, and if you and Ethan want to date, I'm okay with it. I'd be happy to have Ethan as a possible brother-in-law. I just need to know that you're both serious about each other and that this won't happen again."

Ethan looked at Mark, surprised by his admission. "Mark, are you serious? You're okay with Y/N and me dating?"

I turned to Ethan, my eyes widening in surprise. "You would want to date me?" I asked, my voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and hope.

Ethan smiled, his eyes softening as he looked at me. "Yes, Y/N, I would. Despite our initial disagreements and the challenges we've faced, I've come to care about you deeply. I'd like to see where this relationship could go, if you're willing."

I felt my heart swell with emotion, touched by his sincerity and the vulnerability he was displaying. "Ethan, I've developed feelings for you too. Despite everything, I've come to appreciate the person you are underneath all the bravado. I'd like to see where this could lead as well."

Mark, witnessing the exchange, let out a soft chuckle. "Well, it seems like the feelings are mutual. Just promise me that you both will be honest with each other and with me moving forward. I want you both to be happy, but I also want to make sure that this won't cause any issues with the team or our friendship."

Ethan and I nodded in agreement, grateful for Mark's understanding and support. "We promise, Mark," I assured him. "Our relationship won't change our commitment to our friendship or the team."

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After Mark had given his approval for Ethan and me to date, the dynamic between the three of us shifted noticeably. The tension that once clouded our interactions began to dissipate, replaced by a newfound sense of camaraderie and mutual respect.

Mark, always the protective older brother, now seemed more at ease with our relationship. He made an effort to include Ethan in our family gatherings and often invited him over for dinner or to watch hockey games on TV. It was clear that Mark was trying to build a strong relationship with Ethan, not just as a teammate but now also as a potential future brother-in-law.

One evening, Mark organized a small get-together at our family home. It was an informal gathering, with just a few close friends and teammates. As Ethan and I arrived, Mark greeted us warmly at the door, a genuine smile on his face.

"Hey, you two. Come on in," Mark said, giving me a playful nudge and a wink. "Ethan, glad you could make it."

"Thanks for having us, Mark," Ethan replied, returning the smile. "Smells great in here."

Throughout the evening, Mark made an effort to involve both Ethan and me in conversations, ensuring we felt comfortable and included. He even shared a few embarrassing childhood stories about me, much to my chagrin, but it was all in good fun and made for a lively and enjoyable evening.

As the night wore on, Mark pulled Ethan aside for a private conversation. I couldn't help but feel a bit anxious, wondering what they were discussing. After a few minutes, they rejoined the group, both of them wearing satisfied smiles.

"Everything okay?" I asked, looking between the two of them.

"Yeah, everything's great," Mark replied, putting an arm around Ethan's shoulders. "I've got to say, Y/N, you've picked a good one."

Ethan chuckled, his cheeks turning a shade of red. "Thanks, Mark. I think you're pretty great too."

As the months passed, our relationship continued to flourish, and Mark's initial reservations about Ethan and me dating seemed to fade away completely. He became one of our biggest supporters, always there to offer advice, lend a listening ear, or celebrate our milestones as a couple.

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One weekend, Ethan and I planned a getaway trip to a cabin in the mountains. Knowing that Mark was an experienced hiker and outdoorsman, we invited him to join us. To our surprise, he agreed, and the three of us spent a memorable weekend hiking, exploring, and bonding over shared meals and campfire stories.

By the end of the trip, it was clear that Ethan had earned Mark's trust and respect. They had forged a strong bond, built on mutual interests and a shared love for adventure. As we packed up to leave, Mark pulled Ethan aside for another private conversation.

"Take care of her, okay?" Mark said, his voice filled with sincerity.

"You have my word, Mark," Ethan replied, shaking Mark's hand firmly. "I care about Y/N deeply, and I'll always do my best to make her happy."

As we drove back home, I couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude and happiness. I was grateful for Ethan's unwavering support and love, but also for Mark's acceptance and the bond we had all formed together.

honestly I hate this, but I wanted to get something out for you guys. Please dont be afraid to request!

#ethan edwards #ethan edwards x reader #ethan edwards x y/n #umich hockey #hockey #ethan edwards x oc #mark estapa

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