#and i’m so fatigued that i just pass out suddenly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ourseasone · 18 days ago

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CHAPTER 001 ✱ THE FIRST DEATH

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“This white area right here,” the doctor says, pointing to a section on the screen. “This is the tumor.”

Your gaze shifts from the glowing image of your brain to the doctor sitting across from you. Your eyes lock onto the man’s face, trying to process the words you’ve just heard. You blink once, then twice, and then a third time, hoping the reality of it will somehow change, or at least make more sense. But no matter how many times you blink, the words remain — brain tumor. Your chest tightens. Your breaths feel short and shallow. Your heart rate spikes, and suddenly, the room feels smaller. You’re not sure if it’s the shock, the disbelief, or the wave of panic rising in you, but your world feels like it’s spinning out of control.

“A brain tumor?” Your voice is barely a whisper, barely audible, as though if you say it too loudly, it might become too real to bear. “A brain tumor…”

“Yes. And a very dangerous one.”

Your mind tries to make sense of it all, but nothing clicks into place. Instead, a faint smile, almost involuntary, forms on your lips. Your eyes drift back to the computer screen, staring at the scan of your brain. The image is clear — six large, distinct spots, each one a reminder of something that shouldn’t be there. You stare at it, unblinking, as if maybe by looking long enough, the truth will somehow change. A tumor. In your brain. It doesn’t sound real. It’s like something out of a bad dream, one that you’re not ready to wake up from.

A few days ago, you’d come to the hospital after passing out at the boxing gym. It had started out like any other day — training, working through the motions, feeling the usual aches and fatigue. But that night was different. You felt a wave of nausea hit you, but you pushed it aside. Just tired, you thought. Then came the dizziness, the piercing headaches, until, finally, you collapsed. When you came to, your coach was hovering beside you, his face filled with concern. That was when they decided it was time to get checked out. The scan was supposed to only offer some clarity. And now here you were today, hearing something that felt impossible. A tumor. A dangerous one. In your brain.

The words hang heavy in the air. Your chest tightens again, and you can feel your pulse pounding in your ears.

“Do I have to get surgery?” You ask, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep it steady.

The doctor hesitates, his expression turning even more serious.

“It’s inoperable, Y/N. Because of the location, surgery would be too risky. It’s not something we can touch safely.”

You let out a nervous laugh. It sounds hollow, almost forced, and the sound catches in your throat, thick with the weight of what you’ve just been told. You feel an overwhelming lump form there, as though your body itself is betraying you. Your eyes burn, and you bite your lip, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“But then… what happens to me?” Your voice cracks on the last word, and for a moment, it feels like your chest might collapse under the pressure.

The doctor’s face softens, but you don’t need sympathy right now. You don’t want that look. Not from someone who’s supposed to help you.

“There’s nothing we can do for now,” the doctor says, his voice quieter, more reluctant. “We can only hope that the tumor doesn’t grow. That it stays the same size. We need to monitor it closely.”

Hope. The word echoes in your mind, but it doesn’t feel like enough. Hope? That’s it?

“So I’m just supposed to live with this? And hope it doesn’t get worse?” The frustration in your voice is evident, a mix of fear and disbelief. “What happens if it does get worse? What happens to me then?”

The room feels colder, more suffocating. The future, once filled with possibilities and the simple joy of living, suddenly seems like a distant memory, slipping further out of reach with every passing second.

“So I’m going to die young?” You don’t even know if it’s a question anymore. It’s more like a statement of fact, a brutal realization that you can’t undo.

The doctor shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He takes a deep breath, as if trying to gather himself before responding. His eyes flicker with something — pity, maybe, or just an overwhelming sadness that a young person like you has to face this. You don’t want pity. You want answers. You need to know.

“Doctor,” you say, your voice suddenly more forceful than before, though it’s thick with the pain of everything you’re processing. You straighten up in your seat, willing yourself to face the truth, no matter how much it hurts. “Tell me the truth. How long do I have left to live?”

The words are out, and now there’s no taking them back. The air feels heavier, charged with the weight of the question, and for a long moment, the doctor says nothing. He just looks at you, his gaze steady but reluctant, as if bracing for what comes next. And finally, the doctor exhales slowly, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Nine months. Maybe a little over a year if you’re lucky. In your current condition, it’s possible you might live a bit longer. But that’s all we can give you. Time. We just have to wait and see how things unfold.”

Nine months. Or a little over a year.

The doctor’s words hang in the air like a dark cloud. They’re vague, but the message is undeniable: neither option leaves you with much time. You feel the weight of it, crushing you from all sides. Suddenly, your throat tightens, and you feel a sharp lump rise in it, choking you. You want to cry, scream, punch something, break everything in sight — yet, all you do is stare blankly at your hands, fingers fidgeting with a nervous energy that doesn’t seem to help. You can’t breathe. The walls of the office feel too close, the air too thick, the entire space too small. All you want is to escape. To run. To make it stop.

In just over a year, you will be dead. And the most horrifying part is there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

“I know this is difficult to process,” the doctor’s voice continues, soft, almost too compassionate. “I sincerely hope you’ll take the time to talk to someone about it. We’ll schedule another appointment next week for more details.”

You nod, though you don’t truly hear the doctor anymore. His words blur into a meaningless murmur, lost in the buzzing noise that has overtaken your thoughts. You stand up automatically, your limbs moving without conscious thought, too numb to feel anything. Your body feels disconnected, like you’re watching yourself from the outside. Your eyes are empty, like the world around you is out of focus, and the doctor’s mouth moves in slow motion. You catch a few words here and there, but they hold no weight. Only the echo of your own thoughts fills your mind, reverberating louder than anything else.

With a faint bow, more out of habit than anything else, you grab your bag, your hand shaking as you sling it over your shoulder. The floor beneath your feet seems to stretch farther with each step you take. Your body is on autopilot, moving mechanically toward the door. The cold, sterile scent of disinfectant hits you as soon as you step into the hallway, more suffocating than it ever was in the office. The familiar scent of the hospital now feels foreign and harsh, like the smell of a place where people come to die, not heal.

Your feet drag as you walk. Your eyes are locked on the ground, watching the tiles pass beneath you, but your mind is a whirlwind, spinning with a thousand thoughts, none of them clear, none of them making sense. You’re lost. Completely lost. Should you tell someone? Your mother? Suho?

But no. No, you can’t tell anyone. Not yet.

Your mother… She wouldn’t understand. She’d probably just dismiss it. Her cold, indifferent attitude would be the same as always. She might even accuse you of making it up for attention, a sick attempt to get sympathy. You could already hear her voice, the dismissive tone, the lack of care. Even the rare times you visited her at the retirement home, she barely acknowledged you. Why would this be any different? You could already hear the words, feel the sting of them, the way they would cut through you.

And Suho… No. Definitely not Suho.

You know your best friend too well. You know that hearing this news would break him — completely and utterly. Suho would break at the mere thought of it, at the simple thought of losing you. Maybe Suho wouldn’t show it outwardly, maybe he would try to stay strong, to hold it together for your sake. But you’d see it. You can already picture the sadness in Suho’s eyes, the way it would completely ruin him. You couldn’t do that to him. No, you couldn’t break him like that. You can’t bear the idea of that. You can’t bring yourself to do that to him.

The doctor had said you had about a year left, give or take. A year. That’s time, right? Time to hide it. Time to lie about the headaches. Time to fake your way through each day, pretending nothing’s wrong. It should be easy enough, shouldn’t it? You’d just keep quiet. Keep everything to yourself. No one needs to know. You could hold it together for a little while longer, couldn’t you?

Because once people know, once they learn that your days are numbered, they’ll look at you differently. They’ll see you as broken, fragile, like something already slipping through their fingers. They’ll treat you like a dying man, as if you’re already been buried six feet under. They’ll pity you. And that… that is the last thing you can bear. The thought of people looking at you with those eyes, speaking to you with that soft, sorrowful tone, treating you like you’re already gone — that would kill you long before death ever touches you. The pity would be worse than the tumor itself.

And your first death has already happened. It happened the moment the doctor told you about the tumor.

If there’s one thing you absolutely despise, it’s waking up early. Especially this early. According to the cold, unfriendly numbers blinking on your watch, it’s 5:49 AM — a time that feels almost inhuman to you.

The sky is still cloaked in deep gray, and the streets are eerily silent, the world not yet awake. Step after slow step, you drift down the road toward Byuksan High School, your right hand shoved deep into the pocket of your school uniform jacket, the other clutching a small paper bag, warm with the smell of fresh pastries. Your backpack hangs carelessly off one shoulder, and the low thrum of music filters through your earbuds, though you’re barely listening. Your mind is far too crowded with heavier, louder thoughts.

Today, you’re ridiculously early compared to your usual schedule. Way too early.

Then again… you hadn’t been able to sleep a single second after the soul-crushing news you received yesterday.

You hadn’t gone to your part-time job at the convenience store, hadn’t dragged yourself to the boxing gym either, texting your coach some excuse about feeling too sick to make it. Which, to be fair, wasn’t a lie. Just not the whole truth. Instead, you had stumbled home, dropped face-first onto your bed, and stayed there. No dinner. No phone. No distractions. Just hours of thinking. Endless, restless, useless thinking. Memories, regrets, fear — they all tangled together in your mind until you couldn’t tell one from the other.

By four in the morning, you gave up trying to fight it.

If sleep wasn’t coming, you might as well move. You pulled yourself out of bed, took a shower, threw on your uniform, and decided to leave the house absurdly early, hoping that maybe, with a long enough walk, the fresh air would sweep the chaos out of your head.

( It hadn’t. )

But at least you had enough time to stop by the small bakery a few blocks from home — the one Suho loved — and pick up a few pastries.

You now move calmly through the deserted halls of Byuksan High, your footsteps echoing slightly against the linoleum floor. The school is eerily silent, only the faint hum of the old heaters breaking the stillness. The sky outside has started to shift — not fully light yet, but no longer pure darkness either. That grey-blue hour between night and morning where everything feels suspended, floating.

Stopping in front of Class 1–6, you gently push the door open, cringing at the small creak it lets out. You step inside, instinctively making as little noise as possible. The classroom is empty, save for one person ; Suho. Sprawled across three desks at the back of the room, his arms dangling loosely, mouth slightly open, fast asleep — exactly how you expected to find him. The sight makes something tight and painful twist in your chest, but outwardly, you allow a small, genuine smile to tug at the corners of your mouth.

You close the door behind you with a soft click and make your way to your seat — also in the back, right in front of Suho’s. As you pull out your chair and quietly lower yourself into it, you notice Suho stir slightly.

Shit. Did I wake him up?

You freeze for a second, then slowly place your backpack down on the floor, setting the bag of pastries carefully onto your desk. You glance over your shoulder just as Suho shifts again, grumbling something incoherent under his breath, and — hilariously — sniffs loudly the air, his nose twitching like a dog catching a scent.

“Seriously?” you mutter to yourself, a laugh bubbling up in your throat despite yourself. “He can smell food even while he’s sleeping?”

At the sound of your voice, Suho stirs again, this time cracking one eye open sluggishly. He squints toward you, clearly still halfway trapped in a dream. His head lifts slightly from the desk, and for a second, he just blinks at you in confusion, like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing.

His gaze drifts around the empty, dim classroom, then back to you, disbelief written all over his sleepy face.

“Y/N…?” he croaks, voice hoarse from sleep. He shifts upright, stretching his arms with a groan before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What time is it? Why the hell are you even here already?”

“It’s probably around 6:30 or something,” you reply casually, lifting the small paper bag in your hand up to head level, the scent of fresh pastries practically leaking out. “I brought us food.”

Suho blinks again, as if processing the information slowly, before his face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning.

“You absolute legend,” Suho says, practically scrambling to sit properly on top of his desk now. His hair is a complete mess, sticking up at odd angles, but he looks so genuinely happy that you feel a deep warmth bloom in your chest — bittersweet, but comforting.

You chuckle softly as you toss a couple of items toward Suho : two custard-filled donuts, a few mini cakes neatly wrapped in wax paper, and a strawberry milk — plus a banana milk for good measure. You had picked up the exact same for yourself, except you opted for two strawberry milks because you’re basically addicted to them. Suho catches the pastries clumsily, practically hugging them to his chest like precious treasure.

“You’re saving my life right now,” he says seriously, already unwrapping one of the donuts with the urgency of a man who hadn’t seen food in weeks.

You just lean back in your chair, resting an arm over the backrest, watching him with a small, warm smile.

“Thought you might be hungry,” you say simply, taking a lazy sip from your own strawberry milk.

“How are you even alive right now?” Suho jokes between bites, his cheeks puffed out adorably with donut. “You literally hate mornings.”

“Yeah, well,” you say, tearing into a piece of cake and popping it into your mouth. “Miracles happen.”

The two of you fall into an easy, quiet rhythm — chatting about nothing in particular as you eat. You listen to Suho ramble between mouthfuls of donut about how brutal yesterday’s math homework was, how Coach Kim wants the both of you to sign up for the upcoming school sports festival, how someone allegedly flooded the boys’ bathroom on the second floor again. Normal things. Stupid, everyday things.

And you soak it all in like it’s air you desperately need to breathe. The sound of Suho’s laugh, the way he talks with his mouth full even though he knows you hate it, the excited sparkle in his eyes when he’s telling a story — it’s all so real, so vibrant, so painfully alive. It hits you harder than you expect, how much you want to protect this for as long as you possibly can. How desperately you want to freeze time, to keep this version of Suho untouched by the reality waiting to crush you both.

No, you think firmly. Not yet. Not for a while.

You’ll keep the secret. You’ll keep pretending. Because once you tell Suho, there’ll be no going back. And the smile currently lighting up Suho’s face would never quite look the same again.

“Hey, earth to Y/N?” Suho’s voice cuts through your thoughts, waving a hand in front of your face. “You good?”

You blink, startled, then huff out a soft laugh, reaching over to steal half of Suho’s second donut without permission.

“Yeah. Just thinking about how ugly you look when you eat.”

Suho lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest.

“Rude! I am a vision of beauty,” he protests, spraying a few crumbs across the desk.

“You’re a vision of something, alright,” you tease, grinning widely.

You both burst out laughing — real, genuine laughter that fills the classroom and bounces off the empty walls. For a while, it’s just the two of you, wrapped in your own little bubble of silly jokes and sugary pastries and the kind of friendship that feels unbreakable.

The sun finally pushes itself up over the horizon, light bleeding slowly into the classroom through the grimy windows. Little by little, the rest of the world wakes up. Students start trickling into the classroom, chattering sleepily, slamming their desks, and unpacking their bags. The noise grows louder, the day begins like any other — and you don’t even notice, too busy trying to etch this fleeting, perfect moment into your heart.

For now, life goes on. Just like it always has.

And you’re determined to make it stay that way — for as long as you possibly can.

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note ∘ ∘ ∘ and the first chapter is finally here! im so so excited to write even more for this fanfic >~< also, this story is available on my wattpad too with a male oc if you ever feel interested!

taglist ∘ ∘ ∘ @suunani @naelvze @ecrvea @eijizwrld @dudekiss3r @ten0rikuma @nnryota @yeon103 @strawberrywith-chocolate2 @daichiwkmi (let me know if you wanna be added!)

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icyminghao · 1 year ago

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why didn’t you tell me?

pairing: minghao x gn!reader genre: (some) angst, fluff, comfort, drabble, idol!minghao, established relationship warning(s): mentions of eating, fainting word count: 0.8k

summary: minghao sends you some alarming texts in the middle of the night, and you’re left to speculate the abundance of reasons why he would have sent them.

a/n: inspired by 21:20 of this video with minghao and park myungsoo! the ‘mala story’ segment really fueled my delusions omg

xu baobei ♡ [21:23]: We need to talk.

xu baobei ♡ [21:24]: Call me when you see this.

Those two text messages glare at you every time you pick up your phone, waves of dread coursing through your body as you start speculating the reason as to why your boyfriend had sent the texts so out of the blue.

Is he angry at you? For what reason? Is he going to break up with you? For what reason? You don’t think you’ve done anything to upset him lately, so what could be the issue?

Countless thoughts are flooding your mind as you pace around the living room of your apartment, debating whether to call him or not. If he really wanted to break up with you, wouldn’t you be sending yourself to death’s door by calling him?

Sighing, you bite your lip and decide to text him instead.

you [22:12]: talk about what?

Almost immediately, your ringtone blares through the speakers of your phone, and you nearly drop the phone in shock. Sure enough, the caller ID reads your boyfriend’s contact name, and you sigh in dread, taking a seat on the couch and mentally preparing yourself for what’s about to come.

“Hello?” you say as soon as you pick up, your heart rate picking up.

“y/n,” Minghao replies, his voice stern yet soft, like he can’t bring himself to be fully angry at you.

There’s silence for a short while, and you feel like you’re going to explode any second.

“Are you…” you break the silence, nearly trembling, “are you breaking up with me?”

On the other end of the line, you hear something drop. “What? No, y/n, I’m not breaking up with you. What made you think that way?”

“You- you sounded really scary in your texts,” you mumble, internally relieved that your boyfriend isn’t planning on breaking up with you.

“Text messages don’t carry tone in them, silly,” Minghao chuckles.

“I heard you went to the hospital. From Mingyu,” Minghao pipes up after a moment of silence, and everything clicks in your head.

You had indeed been to the hospital the day before upon suddenly passing out while hanging out with Mingyu’s sister, who’d sent you to the emergency room immediately out of fear that something serious had happened to you. Thankfully, the reason why you’d passed out had been due to fatigue, and you subsequently begged her not to tell anyone about it, despite her objections.

You’re guessing that she had told Mingyu about it, which you don’t blame her for, and that’s how you’ve ended up in this situation now.

“I did,” you reply simply, looking down at your feet.

“Are you feeling better now? What happened?” Minghao asks immediately after your reply.

“I’m okay now, it wasn’t serious,” you assure your boyfriend, “The doctor said it was due to fatigue.”

“Are you not eating and sleeping well?” Minghao replies with yet another question, worry laced in his voice. “Should I move back in?”

You start to panic a little at the idea of Minghao coming back to live in your shared home, seeing as to how he had moved to the dorm temporarily to prepare for their upcoming comeback, quickly refuting, “It’s okay, Hao, I’m okay! I think I just skipped a few meals because of work, I’ll make sure to have my meals regularly!”

Minghao pauses, then hums in response, seemingly not satisfied with your answer.

“Why… didn’t you tell me? I could’ve been there,” Minghao’s voice becomes softer, and you sense a bit of hurt in his tone, breaking your heart a little.

“I— I didn’t want to worry you, Hao,” you began, eyes downturned, “You have a concert and a comeback coming up that’s more important.”

“Nothing’s more important than you, y/n.” Minghao replies without missing a beat, catching you by surprise. “I’m your boyfriend, y/n, you can talk to me if anything happens. What if- what if something serious had happened, and I wasn’t there?”

Minghao’s vulnerable tone breaks your heart, and you frown at his words. Throughout your relationship, such a situation had never happened before, and thinking in his perspective, you completely understand why he’s upset, making you all the more upset at your actions.

“I know, Hao, I- I would want you to let me know if anything happened to you, too. I’m really sorry.” you apologise, wishing he were physically beside you so you could hug him.

Minghao sighs, clearly not wanting to escalate the issue for no reason. “It’s okay, darling, just let me know in the future, hm? I love you.”

“I will, Hao. I love you too,” you reply like it’s second nature, because it is.

A comfortable silence ensues for a while, the two of you at ease knowing that your hearts beat for each other despite the physical distance.

“Also, I’m moving back in. Comeback preparations are more or less done, anyway, and I believe making sure a certain someone eats regularly is much more important,” Minghao jests, and you hear some rustling in the background. “I’m on the way.”

You chuckle. You really don’t know what you did to deserve this man, but you know you won’t be letting him go anytime soon.

a/n 2: i’ve come to a realisation that i’m an absolute horror at writing endings LOL

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hollandsangel · 1 year ago

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casual | m. sturniolo

i’ve been scheming for weeks !! (actually started this before move over AND voice. so.)

basically i’m obsessed with this song

summary: the most dangerous label is the casual one; or you both want more

warnings: matt x fem!reader, use of y/n, ANGST, cursing, happy ending bc i’m a sucker & a lost cause

wc: 6.5k

the sun is dipping behind the horizon, painting the sky pink and orange. you have your window rolled down, letting the salt air breeze pick your hair up as you rest against the car door. matt has elmer’s new song playing on aux, something lofi with a bit of spanish mixed in.

“like what you see?” he speaks up, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look over at you. he stares for a second, your skin illuminated by the fading rays of the sun, kissing the tops of your cheeks and giving you a warm glow.

you press yourself up to sit properly and catch his hand resting on the center console. you always loved that he drives with his left hand, the right always close enough for you to touch.

“it’s pretty,” you say, poking your head back out of the window, looking overhead at the passing trees, “the palms are so tall.” matt squeezes your hand, and when you look back up he’s already looking at you, smiling when you meet his eyes.. his hair looks lighter in the setting sun, the side of his face lit up all golden and warm. you bite your lip and smile, turning away with a slight flush.

“it’s green,” you tell him and he flicks his head back forward, muttering a curse under his breath.

“my bad,” he admits, refusing to drop your hand.

it looked like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, just takes a breath and lets it out before turning back to the road.

when the car pulls into the garage you reach to the back to grab your overnight bag. matt’s already out of the car, coming over to your side to open your door, “c’mon,” he says in that silly high pitched voice, just to hear you giggle.

you make your way to his bedroom, knowing the ins and outs of the triplet’s house like the back of your hand. matt follows behind you, his footsteps echoing amongst the hardwood floors.

“i can’t wait to lay down,” you sigh, the effects of the sun's heat catching up with you now that you’re in the cool, air conditioned house.

“yeah, i’m feelin’ pretty tired too,” matt agrees, his voice heavy and suddenly cloaked by fatigue.

you’d been out all day, shopping on melrose, walking by the beach. dinner and ice cream and the beating sun soaked up all your energy. nothing sounded better than getting cozy in matt’s bed and watching a movie, maybe catching a bit of a nap before deciding to head home. you knew he’d insist on driving you, and that always hurt more than you’d like to admit.

the two of you weren’t dating, he wasn’t your boyfriend and you told yourself you didn’t mind. it wasn’t a very convincing lie though, most everyone around you could tell. it’s not that you hadn’t talked about it, you had, there were just things getting in the way.

matt was worried about how his fans would react, and he absolutely did not want it to be at your expense. you hated the thought of pushing him, like forcing him or asking too much, being too needy would only drive him away. all your friends had told you to stop, that you were only going to get yourself hurt, but you’d honestly rather have half of him and a broken heart than none of him at all.

you never doubted that he cares about you, in fact you know he does. he always picks you up from classes, knows your order at all your favourite fast food places and keeps an extra toothbrush in the bathroom for you. it’s things like that that make the title of causal or just seeing each other sting a little bit more.

here though, all settled in matt’s bed, you try not to think about it too hard. there’s some liam neeson movie he insisted on showing you playing on the tv, and you’re happy to be watching it, but mostly happy to be watching it with him. his chest rises and falls under your head with each breath and it’s making you more tired than before.

“i’m so warm,” you say through a yawn, all comfy now in your sweats and matt’s crewneck, although the comfort comes mostly from his arms wrapped around your middle.

“you can throw on a pair of boxers if you want, top drawer,” matt offers, his arms unmoving, keeping you mildly trapped against him.

“let me goooo,” you groan dramatically, making a big show of sliding out from under his arms and grinning to yourself when he laughs.

“come back,” he pouts, reaching for a stuffed animal to take your place while you cross the room to his dresser.

“just give me a sec,” you giggle, rummaging around in the drawer and pulling out a pair of plaid boxers. there’s something stuck to it, all tangled up in the mess of his clothes, “what the– is this my bra? i’ve been looking for this for like a month.”

matt lifts his head just enough to see what you’re holding up, huffing when he hits the pillow again, “i dunno, sweetheart, you probably left it, you’ve got a lot of stuff here,” he sounds tired, and the words are pressed against his pillow now that he’s rolled onto his stomach.

you’ve got lots of stuff here.

it digs into you, how casually he says it, an almost physical ache you feel beyond your ribs, right where your heart is.

quickly you try to shake it off, shucking off your sweatpants and sliding the boxers up your legs so you can hurry back into bed before allowing yourself to think about what he said too much.

“c’mere,” there’s a little smile on his face when he says it, arm outstretched for you to crawl under. immediately matt tucks you up against his body impossibly close, his nose stuffed into your hair and breathing you in. it feels nice, right, and you let yourself bask in it, like maybe the state of your relationship (or lack thereof) won’t be in limbo forever. he has to feel it too, the pull.

“i think you should just stay tonight,” he says quietly against your temple, leaving a little kiss there.

“are you sure?”

he nods, “it’s late, ‘m not gonna kick you out,” you can see his smile in the dark, his features lit up delicately by the dim light of the movie, “and i kinda wanna cuddle,” he admits sheepishly, trying to hide his blush when you turn to him.

“awe, matty,” you tease, scooching closer to him, hardly an inch away.

“hey,” he says all high pitched, making you laugh again.

“that voice always gets me,” you tell him, snuggling up under his chin.

“that’s why i do it,” he tells you.

it doesn’t take long for you to slip into an easy sleep with matt holding you, the mindless noise coming from the tv luring you deeper into unconsciousness. he’s being extra gentle, finger tips dragging along your waist under your top. you hardly feel him slide out of bed or tuck you in all snug under the covers.

nick’s in the kitchen when matt emerges from his bedroom for some water, hunting for something in the pantry. matt rubs his eyes.

“hello?” chris leans forward on the couch, his voice startling matt.

“jesus, what– you’re just both out here at fucking two in the morning?” he grumbles, eyes squinted against the harsh lights.

“we ordered food,” chris stands up, walking into the kitchen.

nick nods, closing the cupboard, glass in hand, “we thought you were at y/n’s or something, i didn’t hear you come in,”

matt grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and a takes a sip before answering, “nah she’s here, she’s asleep,” he says, nodding towards his bedroom.

nick groans, “god, are you guys dating yet,” he asks, head rolling back against his shoulders, exsapertated.

matt’s eyes widen at the sudden outburst of noise, looking back at his door to make sure nick didn’t wake you, “dude, be quiet,” he urges.

you’d felt matt’s absence after a few minutes, the warmth of his body leaving the bed when he did. slowly you sit up, pressing the heel of your palm into your eye and swinging your feet to the floor quietly. you stand behind matt’s closed bedroom door, prepared to silently creep out and go to the bathroom when you catch his voice.

“and no,we’re just casual,” he continues to answer nick’s question, who glances over and chris. “what— don’t look at him like that,” this earns him another sideye, “i mean it, it’s not serious.”

“matthew” nick starts, “isn’t she asleep in your bed right now?” nick points an accusatory finger in his brother’s direction, emphasizing his words.

it’s matt’s turn to look at chris, who holds his hands up in surrender, “don’t look at me, i’m with nick,” he says, looking away from his brother from where he remains on the couch.

“well she’s not my girlfriend, if that’s where this is going,” matt turns back to the fridge, not really looking for anything, just trying to hide from his brother’s judgmental, but justified, stares.

it hurts to hear, even if you know it’s the truth.

“and why not, idiot,” nick asks, getting fed up. he can clearly tell how his brother feels and is getting frustrated, mad even, with the idea of him toying with your feelings.

“i just—i just can’t do it.” that hurts more, a sharp pain you feel in your chest. you swallow dryly, and that hurts too.

you decide you don’t have to go to the bathroom that badly anymore, and slowly sink back into matt’s bed. you know you and matt aren’t together, that he’s not your boyfriend, but a part of you has always clung to the idea that one day he would be, that he’d finally make the move. you thought he liked you enough to at least try.

tugging the duvet up to your chin you roll over onto your side to face the wall. matt comes back into the bedroom and you can hear nick and chris talking quietly for a second before the door closes again. you’re not too sure, but you think one of them mumbles your name amidst the conversation. matt slides back under the covers with you, coming as close as he can to wrap his arms around you.

it makes your head spin, his words rattling around in your mind, saying he “can’t do it,” but here is, body tucked perfectly against yours, holding you so tight you’d think he never wanted to let go.

—

matt seems notice that you’re a bit quieter than usual the next morning, but you try to hide it under the excuse of not feeling well. he offers to drop you off and you take him up on it, knowing that marinating in the misery you feel won’t solve anything but seems to be the easiest thing to do at the moment.

“text me if you need anything, okay?” his tone is concerned and you can feel him looking at you even though you’re trying to avoid eye contact. you know you’d cave, catching a glimpse of the light blue with all that worry clouding it.

“yeah, i will,” you sigh, reaching into the back seat to grab your bag.

matt catches you, palm placed delicately along your jaw so you’ll look at him, “hey,” he says all soft, “c’mere,” he guides you forward slightly and you know what’s coming, you know it’s gonna hurt but you do it anyway.

he kisses you gently and you fall into it with ease, reaching out to touch his arm. when he strokes his thumb along your cheekbone you pull away, licking your lips.

“i’ve gotta go,” you whisper, afraid the full volume of your voice would shatter something, you’re not too sure what.

“yeah, okay,” he nods, pulling his hand away from your face and trying to smile as you open your door, watching you walk into your building.

he stays there in the parked car for a minute, wondering what’s wrong, pretending he doesn’t know that this whole situation hurts you just as much as it hurts him. he’s staring up at your apartment window, tapping the steering wheel and taking a long, deep breath.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself, pushing his hair back and putting the car in reverse.

—

you and matt don’t talk excessively for the next few days, only a few texts exchanged here and there and one phone call after he knew you’d just written a midterm.

he called to ask how it went and tell you he was proud of you, and also to invite you out to dinner with his parents on the upcoming weekend. they were flying out to l.a. for a few days and he wanted you to meet them. it felt cruel.

“i dunno matt, i’ve got an assignment due sunday at midnight, i might not be able to make it,” of course you wanted to go, but the tug of self preservation was starting to become more equal to the pull you felt towards him. you were starting to lose sight of what was more important, him or yourself.

for so long it had been him.

“please, sweetheart, i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever,” matt slumps into his desk chair, spinning back forth.

you cave and somehow your vision clears. it was him again.

“yeah, yeah, okay, i wanna see you too,”

matt smiles on the other end of the phone, “yay,” he says sweetly, making his joy obvious, “i can help you with your assignment if you want, too,” he offers, and you know he’s just trying to get a smile out of you.

you laugh without meaning to, “matt, you know nothing about the course,”

“i’ll figure it out, anything i can do to make sure i see you,”

you bite your lip, trying to keep a smile at bay, “careful, you’re gonna make me think you like me or something,”

“aw, well i can’t have that now can i?” he teases, and it cuts deeper than he realizes it does.

“no,” you mutter, trying to hold onto the smile on your face even though matt can’t see you, “um, i should probably get going, if i wanna finish my assignment on time,”

“oh, yeah, okay. i could come by a little later with some food?” he poses it as a question, sensing your hesitancy.

“you don’t have to do that,”

“i know, but i want to,” he says it so easily, like there’s no reason in the world he wouldn’t come to your house after eleven pm just to sit on your bedroom floor while you do school work.

“canes?” you finally offer.

“be there in half an hour.” you hear the car keys jingle through the phone, the front door latching shut.

—

the triplet’s parents land on friday afternoon. you haven’t seen matt since wednesday night when he called and brought take out to your place, and you’re starting to feel a little nervous at the thought of seeing his parents.

you’ve spoken to them over facetime once or twice when matt had called them, but this is real, this is serious.

you think you’ve completely driven yourself insane with that, thinking of it as serious. for days there’s been a battle in your head about whether or not this means matt wants to make your relationship offical. it’s become such a problem that you’ve forbidden yourself from thinking about it.

taking a deep breath you refocus on yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair and trying to decide on a lip product for the night when your roomate wanders into your bedroom.

“how are you doing?” she asks, leaning against the door frame. you don’t answer, just look up at her with what must be a miserable expression, because she chuckles sadly at you, “that bad, huh?”

you groan and clench your fists, “i’m just confused!” you exclaim.

“i know, but i think tonight should clear some things up,” she tells you hopefully, and you really want to believe her.

“i hope so,” you sigh, “i just really like him,” you whine, defeated.

your phone dings then, a message from matt of course.

matt sturn

be there in twenty

ive got the kids

you laugh sadly at the text.

“‘s that him?” your roommate asks.

“yeah, him and his brothers are on the way, they’ll be here soon.”

“you’ll do great, don’t sweat it,” she tries to reassure you, giving you an over enthusiastic thumbs up before shutting your door again.

matt, nick and chris have been in the car for about five minutes and already matt’s debating driving into oncoming traffic. him and his brothers have had the same fight at least three times since you stayed over last week, and if he’s honest, he’s getting really sick of it.

“enough of this ‘i can’t do that’ bullshit, matt, she’s coming to dinner with our parents,” nick says pointedly, running out of air at the end of his setence, “you don’t just bring your hook up to that shit, so fucking stop talking to her if it’s that much of an issue,” he continues, leaning froward against matt’s seat, staring holes into the side of his brothers face.

matt is clearly aggravated, gripping the wheel a little too hard, “shut the fuck up, nick— she’s not just a hook up,”

nick’s eyes get wider at this and he leans over matt’s seat, voice exponentially louder when he says, “you just proved my fucking point!!”

“you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” matt mumbles in a deft tone, staring harshly out onto the road.

chris leans over from the passenger seat, gesturing in matt’s direction, “and you do? you never shut the fuck up about her, and she’s always at the house but you’re too much of a pussy to do anything,” he yells over matt all in one breath, words coming out too fast.

matt’s mouth is set in a firm line and he’s shaking his head, “you guys don’t get it!” he finally yells back, signaling and switching lanes before he can finish his thought, “i can’t do that to her,” the car’s stopped at a red light now, allowing him to look nick in the eye from the rearview mirror. both him and chris shut up for a second.

“i can’t do that to her,” matt emphasizes again, making his point with his hands, bracketing the last two words, “the internet would chew her up and spit her out. you think i don’t want to make her my girlfriend? do you think i like doing this to her? every fucking day i think about cutting it off because i don’t wanna hurt her, but i’m too fucking selfish to do it.”

“it’s green,” chris mumbles.

“shut the fuck up,” matt says through his teeth as he turns back to face the road, driving through the light.

“so what are you gonna do?” nick asks, softer now, arm hung over the back of matt’s seat.

matt looks up at him in the rearview again, taking a deep, anxiety ridden breath, “i don’t know.”

the three boys are silent for the remainder of the drive to your apartment. matt puts the car in park and mumbles something about being right back before getting out and heading up to your floor, slamming the car door a little bit too hard.

“jesus christ,” chris breathes, feeling the tension finally break.

there’s a knock at the front door, and you take a deep breath before opening it. matt stands with his hair a little bit messy and his cheeks a little bit red, but he softens when he sees you.

“hey,” you say, “let me just grab my bag,”

“wait, y/n,”

“yeah?” you turn back around to look at him. he’s standing in the middle of your kitchen, looking a little bit deflated.

“can i have a hug?”

your heart nearly shatters. is he feeling it too?

“wha– of course baby, of course,” you cross the kitchen over to him and he already has his arms open. immediately he locks his arms around your waist, resting his head against yours. you gently rub his back and rest your cheek on his shoulder.

“is everything okay?” you wonder after a second, feeling him breathe heavily against you.

matt squeezes you a little tighter and kisses your hair, “yeah,” he sighs, “nick and chris are just annoying,”

“you love them though,” you remind him.

he pulls away but keeps you close, hands on your hips now, “sometimes i think about reevaluating that,”

you laugh at him, fixing his messy hair, “no you don’t,”

its his turn to smile, “you’re right,” he leans in for a quick kiss which you grant him, letting it dampen your nerves and reservations on the evening.

“i know, now c’mon, we’ve gotta go,” you slide your hand down into his.

“you don’t have to be nervous, by the way,” matt says to you in the elevator, still holding your hand.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and he squeezes your hand, letting you know he’s there for you, “it just feels serious,” you finally admit what you’ve been thinking for the last few days. you’re a little bit afraid to look over at him, so you keep your gaze towards the closed elevator doors.

matt gives your hand a quick squeeze and glances at the side of your face, you can feel his eyes on you, “it’s not serious, don’t worry,” it’s a little strained when he says it, as if he means something else but you can’t quite decipher it. it’s too much to think about now and yet it’s all you’ve been thinking about for days, how ‘unserious’ it all is to him.

when you do get to dinner, marylou and jimmy are already at the restaurant. marylou is being so sweet to you, asking about classes and how you met the boys, what you like do to in your spare time and things about matt that you tease him over. you feel like a girlfriend, you feel like his girlfriend and you don't think you can take much more of it. she tells you how much he talks about you when he’s home, that even justin has started making fun of him for it.

when you look over at matt he’s blushing but staring directly into his plate, avoiding you.

the smile you plastered onto your face fades and you dig your nails into your plam under the table.

“excuse me, i’m gonna run to the bathroom,” you say to no one in particular, catching nick’s eyes. he seems to notice your pleading gaze, and sends you a text after you’ve left the table

nick stromboli

you okay?

you lock yourself in the single bathroom and stand staring at your phone screen.

you

this is brutal

your mom is being sooo sweet but matt won’t even look at me

i feel like he's embarrassed

nick stromboli

he's actually the biggest idiot that ever lived

chris is lowk giving him a death stare rn

nick was being serious, chris staring at matt as marylou goes on about how nice you are.

nick elbows matt in the side and he looks over, more than slightly fed up.

“i think you should go check on y/n,” he whispers, making matt perk up a bit in worry.

“why?”

“i don’t think she’s feeling good,”

“oh, i hope she’s okay,” marylou interrupts herself.

“i’ll be right back,” matt stands from the table and walks to the bathroom, knocking on the door gently, “y/n/n? it’s me sweetheart,”

a slight panic drops through you as you push away from where you were leaning against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

“c’mon let me in, nick said you weren’t feeling good,” he knows you were nervous about tonight, and he’s hoping that’s all it is, that he can fix it.

you sigh, head tossed back to your shoulders as you breathe out before letting him in, hoping you look more composed than you feel.

“hey, you okay?” he asks gently, closing the door behind him.

“yeah, uh, i think i’m gonna go,” you mumble, looking away.

“what? d–do you want like a gingerale or something?” his brows are pinched and he’s reaching out for you. you step back without thinking about it. you don’t even notice you’d done it until you see the hurt look on his face. he reaches out again, slower this time.

“y/n…”

something in you clicks, or comes crashing down when his fingers brush your wrist, “i’m not your girlfriend matt, stop worrying about me like i am,”

he's a little bit stunned at that and pulls back, saying your name again.

“no, don’t do that, i heard what you said to the guys last week, and you keep telling me we’re causal and we can’t be anything but we’re at dinner with your fucking parents. i can’t keep prenteding to be your girlfriend, or–or that it doesn’t hurt, i just can’t do it anymore,”

there’s tears in your eyes you don’t notice until matt whispers, “don’t cry,”

“i’m going crazy,” you tell him, voice so soft, so fragile that his heart breaks a little bit.

“no you’re not, c’mon– we can work this out,” the words are so comforting, and normally he’s the one you’d run to for comfort, but he’s hurting you.

“are we gonna make it official, matt? or are we just gonna keep sleepingover at eachother’s houses four days a week and tell all our friend we aren’t dating?” you ask, pressing your fingertips underneath your eyes, “are we gonna do this for real or are you gonna keep telling your parents about me when you’re in boston, and–and keep coming to my house after midnight with take out just because i don’t wanna be alone working on assignments,” he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a solemn look, so you keep going.

“i can’t take the sorry fucking look chris keeps giving me when i’m walking out of your room, it hurts, matt,”

he steps forward finally, trying to make up for more than the physical space that separates you, “no, c’mon, just–just come back to the table. i’ll stay at yours tonight and we’ll talk about this,”

you hold back a scoff at the irony of him mentioning he’ll stay over, “i need an answer now.” you tell him. he’s gone back to standing a few feet away from you, not touching you anymore.

“an answer for what?”

“can you commit to this now? to me?” you feel like you’re pleading with him and you hate how desperate it is.

“we aren’t having this conversation in the bathroom right now, can we please just talk about it later?” matt asks.

you shake your head, “matt, we’ve been doing this for four months, i don’t wanna wait any longer, i’m not a toy.”

he stares at you, licking his lips. you stare back, suffocating in his silence. it’s all the answer you need.

“i’m gonna go,” you mutter, “tell your parents it was really nice to meet them, and that i’m sorry for leaving,” you add, looking away when you walk passed him to open the door.

you leave the restaurant and call an uber, hardly sparing a glance in the direction of his family’s table on your way out.

“is y/n okay?” jimmy asks when matt comes back alone.

matt shoves a hand into his hair to push it back, not meeting anybody’s eyes, “she went home, she wasn’t feeling good”

“and you didn’t offer to take her?” marylou scolds, sure she raised her son better than that.

“she didn’t want me to,” matt admits, defeated.

nick and chris share a look, knowing that isn’t the whole truth, or really the truth at all.

—

a few days later, after their parents had gone back to boston, matt’s shuffling into nick’s bedroom, where him and chris are laying on the bed on their phones.

matt looks a mess, hair wild and eyes sunken in. he’s been in his bedroom all day, blinds drawn and door latched shut

nick thinks he’s wearing a hoodie of yours, the faded smell of your perfume lingering when his brother walks in.

“…you okay?” nick asks, glancing up from his phone.

matt shakes his head and sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes with his fists, “i feel like fucking shit,” he admits, still looking down, “i hate that i hurt her,” he tells the two, as if his brothers weren’t already acutely aware, “i was trying so hard to keep from hurting her and i fucking did it anyway,” they wait for matt to finish, knowing he has a little more to say, “i was so fucking scared of making things offical that i lost her all together, she’s never gonna talk to me again,”

nick sighs and looks over at chris, the two of them sharing a sympathetic look before he moves forward and puts his arm around matt, who slumps against his shoulder, “that's not true,” nick says, “she probably should never talk to you again, but she’s a good person, and she’s our friend,”

“yeah, and she cares about you a lot, matt.” chris adds, sitting on the matt’s other side.

matt groans and covers his face, “i know, and that’s what sucks,” he wipes his palms over his face, “god, why was i so fucking stupid?”

“because you really like her,” chris offers, “and you’re gonna try and make it up to her…right?”

matt sits back up, staring at the wall, “i dunno, i want to, i don’t…” he takes a deep breath, willing the pit in his stomach to go away, “i’m more afraid of losing her all together than i was of any of that other shit, but i don’t know how to fix…this,” he says, dejected.

nick perks up, because he’s never seen matt half as lively as he is when he’s with you, or talking about you. he’s pretty sure matt was on his way to falling in love with you (if he hasn’t already) and refuses to let him lose hope,“i have an idea,” he says.

matt looks at his brother, desperate. the circles under his eyes a shade too dark, his cheeks sunken in, his lips chapped. nick continues.

“we’ll need waffles.”

—

it’s been over a week and a half since you walked out of the restaurant, and since you’d spoken to matt. nick’s been messaging you, asking if you’re okay and telling you he’s there for you. there’s been a bit of him telling you how stupid matt is, which you’d agreed with solemnly.

nick’s messaging you now. you’re posted up at your kitchen table trying to review for one of your exams, but more so warding off another wave of tears, pressing your fingertips into your eyes.

you pick up your phone to answer the message nick had sent, something about a sleepover at your place this weekend and a promise of a hannah montana binge, but there’s a knock at your door. you’re confused at first, wondering who’s at your door this late.

“did you order food?” you ask your roommate as you get up, looking in through the crack of her barely opened door. her headphones are on and she's hunched over a textbook with a highlighter, oblivious to any visitors.

your heartbeat speeds up a little bit as you begin to think about who’s on the other side. with a huff you look through the peephole, met with a slightly distorted image of matt anxiously shifting his weight from foot to foot.

he keeps looking down the hallway and biting the inside of his cheek. he’s holding something. a paper bag in one hand and a bouquet of delicately wrapped flowers in the other.

you turn the lock, hand shaking a little bit as the door swings open. he whips his head from where he was looking down the hall to the now open door, your eyes locking immediately.

“matt,” you whisper, not even meaning to say it.

he stares at you for a second, seemingly forgetting any words he would have said for a second before holding up the bag.

“i brought waffles.”

—

“please let me in,” he says breathlessly, as if he was holding his breath waiting for you to open the door. “i know i probably don’t deserve a chance, and you probably don’t wanna hear me out, but…but please,” he licks his lips, grip tightening on the stems of the flowers, (you didn’t think he was listening when you told him your favourites all those months ago) “i miss you,” it’s quiet, the way he says it. he’s pleading with you.

there’s an ache in your chest, you’re trying not to mistake his tenderness for pity. and yet you still find yourself letting him in.

“okay,” it takes so little convincing. you missed him too.

there’s little talking at first, mostly just you and matt grabbing plates down and dishing yourselves out. he went to your favourite diner, because of course he did. the waffles are still warm and are making your kitchen smells like butter and sausage. you move your books and laptop out of the way to make room for the two of you to sit, elbows touching when you start to eat.

you’re half way through your first waffle when matt speaks up. you could feel him staring, his body half turned towards you in his chair. some of your hair falls into your face and his finger twitches before you tuck it away. all he wants to do it touch you. hold you, kiss you, anything. he’s such a jerk.

“i’m sorry,”

you freeze for a second, still facing away from him. after you finish chewing you set your fork down and turn slowly, finally looking him in the eyes. the blue has grown a shade too dark, melancholic.

“for what?” you ask stupidly, just needing to know how he’s felt about it all.

“fuck, everything?” he says, forcefully pushing his hair away from his eyes.

you shake your head and turn back to your plate.

“y/n,” he sighs, “c’mon look at me,”

you do, but it hurts.

“i’m sorry for what happened at the restaurant, and i’m sorry things got so out of hand and–and that…this went on for so long,” he gestures between the two of you, fixing his wild hair again.

“this?” you ask, voice breaking, thinking the worst, that he regrets it all, that it’s over. it’s really over.

“this stupid fucking dance we’ve been doing for four months, it’s crazy. it was always crazy.”

you huff, probably a little bit too dramatically as you shift to face him fully, “matt, what are you saying?”

“i’m saying that i like you! and it was so stupid to fucking…dilute that becuase i was scared or some shit,” the latter end of his sentence loses volume, he’s getting shy again.

“but–but you just wanted to be casual–” you start, looking down at your crossed legs.

“no, i never wanted to be fucking casual, i was just…. fuck i was just scared.” he says around a mouthful of waffle. the air smells like syrup.

“i wanna be with you all the time, i like you so much– i just– at first i didn’t want things to be weird between us, which is why i thought a relationship was the wrong idea, but then we started…doing relationship things and it only got better.” he starts, messing with his hair and pushing his food around his plate, “after i stopped being so afraid of that i just, i got scared of another thing,” he finally looks up at you, eyes a little sad, a little heavy.

you can tell that he knows how he’s made you feel, and despite that you hate that he’s sad. you never want him to be sad.

matt continues, “i’d hate for you to get hurt because of my fans, and i knew it was gonna be hard to keep things private, to keep things…ours. i thought that was something i didn't wanna do or i wasn't ready for but…” he sighs, cutting himself off and taking in another big breath. you want to reach out and rub his back, knowing he’s anxious and just trying to calm himself down.

“you being mad at me i can deal with,” he starts again, “you being mad, or–or upset because of me, is harder to handle, but fuck, not having you at all? that's worse than anything else we’d have to face,” he looks up, dead into your eyes to make sure you understand the weight of what he’s about to say, “together.”

“matt…” you whisper. you’ve forgotten about the food. it’s getting cold but it doesn’t matter.

he shakes his head before meeting your eyes again, “i’d rather go through all that bullshit with you than go through nothing without you,” he sounds so sincere that you think your heart skips a beat.

“what are you—”

“i wanna do this. for real.” he nods once, watching you closely.

“do you mean that?” he hates how doubtful you sound and he hates that he’s the one to have put all that doubt there. he thinks you might cry.

“y–yeah of course i mean it. i should have said it a long time ago, and if it makes you feel any better nick’s been giving me shit for like, two months, and i think chris wanted to beat me up last week.” he offers you half a smile, hoping you’ll give one back.

instead you breathe out laugh. he basks in it.

“i want you to be my girlfriend,” you’re looking down again and your hair falls from it’s place behind your ear. he doesn’t stop himself this time, nimble, ring adorned finger pushing it back, “i wanna be your boyfriend,”

you look up at him, studying his face for a second before you speak. he looks tired and a little worn, like he’s been thinking too much and too hard and worrying even more.

“yeah?” you finally say.

matt smiles at you. he has such a pretty smile.

“yeah.” he nods, smiling now.

“so we’re not just casual?”

matt scoffs out a laugh and stands. you stand too and he wraps his arms around you, tucking his chin atop your head when your arms go over his shoulders. he kisses your hair and breathes you in, the lingering scent of your shampoo and your perfume and you. it’s all over his clothes and his sheets, but nothing beats having you in his arms again.

“we were never just causal,” he assures you, as if you didn’t know.

tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose @strnilolo @cherrypostsposts

also tagging some of my faves (writers & other creators!!) 🥹 @pettydollie @wcters @grimholic @floristmatt (if you don’t wanna be tagged lmk!!)

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 1 year ago

Text

”why are you so good at that?”

his caress is gentle. tender, steady, secure; and practiced, you can tell, just from the instant relief you feel — the vivid care in how his fingertips smooth along your skin.

suguru presses his thumbs into the bridge of your nose, right beneath your forehead, big palms cupping your face. they’re warm, calloused, but still somehow so soft — massaging you gently. the pads of his fingers trail upwards, rubbing soothing little circles against your temples. as if he’s memorized every patch of skin, seen the very inside of your skull. as if he knows exactly where to apply pressure to make the sharp jolts of pain go away.

and it’s working. the room you’re in is dimly lit, illuminated only by the vermilion rays of the setting sun, bleeding in through the gap between the opened shoji screens. a faint, summery scent accompanies them; like burnt roses, or a salty ocean breeze, not enough to rouse the nausea in your throat. it’s quiet. all you can hear is the soft humming of your lover, and your own relieved breaths, pulled out by his skillful hands. his pointer fingers pinch between your brows, and another one follows. the sweetest little sigh.

”am i?” his voice is soft, even more so than usual, as if the slightest noise could disrupt your peace. a smile is knit between the vowels. ”i’m glad.”

he sounds a little tired. it’s been a long day for both of you, so it’s no surprise. when you finally got back home, the inside of your skull was tormented by a persistent ache, and suguru was blinking with fatigue — though he still insisted on doing this. lying you down on his lap, like a fragile doll, crossing his legs to give you enough space to rest comfortably; the back of your head finding respite on his thigh, senses enveloped by the silk of his robes, smelling lightly of cherry blossoms and sandalwood. comfy.

and, after only a couple minutes of his loving treatment, the ache began to dull. sweet relief seeping into your nerves.

he reminds you to take deep breaths, watching intently as the contours of your face fall back into a state of tranquility. whenever he shifts, the tatami mats beneath him rustle, and your muddled mind sways like the rocking of a boat; slight, but still enough to coax a wince from out your throat, a tiny spark of pain blooming between your sinuses, followed by a murmured apology from the man above you.

a hum buzzes in his throat. you hear it, eyes still shut, waiting for him to answer your question. and he does, of course — so weak to you, always, your voice the key to his locked-up heart.

”back in high school…” he starts, diligently continuing the facial massage, comforting circles rubbed into your skin. ”... my best friend got migraines often.”

a soft groan slips from out your parted lips, when he pushes against a certain spot — locating the pressure points like brushing specks of dust from off his clothing. effortless.

”ah,” you click your tongue, melting into his touch. turning into a boneless puddle, cradled in his lap, comfy as can be. ”your mysterious bestie, huh?”

it’s not the first you’ve heard of this best friend. suguru’s mentioned him before, though only in passing, in whispers, comments he hopes will sound absentminded. they never do — because suguru says the word friend like it’s a prayer.

(that explains it, though. no wonder it feels so good; it is practiced. should you feel jealous?

well, maybe. but you mostly think it’s kind of sweet.)

before you can think of what you’re saying, the words have left your lips. they tumble out like little pizzicato drops, spoken casually, matter-of-factly. a tiny chirp of a thing.

”you must have loved him a lot.”

…

silence.

for just a moment, the thumbs pressing against your skin halt — just for a second, but enough to notice, and suddenly you feel a little like the air has been sucked out of the room.

even with your eyes closed, you know suguru’s smile is nowhere to be seen.

it’s funny, how well you’ve come to know him. how you’ve learned to memorize every expression you’ve ever seen him make, any signs of distress or discomfort. he does this thing with his eyes, sometimes — a thin kind of concealment, when you shuffle a little too close for his comfort. figuratively speaking, because you’re almost certain he’d let you crawl under his skin if you asked. but sometimes you twist the key to his heart a little too abruptly, and his eyes of gold and ochre shift in the light, honey clogging the interior of his cornea. something sickly-sweet. something he’s kept locked up for a long time.

a nostalgia so palpable it breaks your heart just to look at it.

you don’t want to open your eyes. you don’t want to see the kind of face he’s making right now. you don’t want to know if he’s pursing his lips, or furrowing his brows, just because of your carelessly chosen words — you know his old best friend is a sensitive subject. gosh, you’re stupid.

stupid, stupid, stupid.

(why can’t you ever just read the room?)

blindly, you stumble for something to say, parting your lips. desperate to change the topic, to save him from this suffocating silence.

— but then suguru breaks it.

”yeah.”

when your eyes flutter open, he’s looking out into the garden. watching the sun, as it sinks beneath the mountains, lips curved up into a small smile.

”i suppose i did.”

…

you take a moment to look at him. the bridge of his nose, the firm lines of his jaw — the slightest tremble of the muscle. and those eyes, set afire by the final rays of the setting sun, burned to ash. filled with… something. not regret.

just longing.

suddenly, the pads of his fingers are dancing along your skin again; gliding down to pinch your nose. it makes you yelp, a tiny squeak.

and then he’s looking at you.

”but i love you more,” he croons, a little tilt of his head that make his bangs move like a black curtain. eyes swirling with humour, something syrupy and teasing, awfully fond. ”my little dove.”

before you know it, your cheeks are blossoming with warmth; the branches of your lips curling up into a shy smile. his attention is a little too much to bear, so you wriggle out of his grasp — turning around to press your face into his stomach. his sleeves cast a curtain around you, a protective veil, but it’s not long until you’re being coaxed back into your original position.

”ah ah,” he tuts, chiding you lovingly; a coo in the back of his throat. ”none of that. let me take care of you.”

all you can do is groan, meekly, squeezing your eyes shut. suguru only chuckles, cupping your cheeks and continuing to apply pressure on your forehead and nose, large warm palms against your chilled skin — unwilling to let you escape his pampering.

the sun sets eventually. but he keeps you on his lap until the headache has faded entirely, until your eyelids have dragged you into a deep slumber, until tiny snores are seeping from your parted lips. until the moon has pulled itself into the night sky above you.

somehow, even on the brink of exhaustion, you manage to feel his warm lips against your forehead; hear the muffled murmur against your skin.

”sweet dreams, my darling,” comes a whisper, deep and silky, coaxing you further into the cradle of sleep. his thumb smooths along your cheekbone, down to the curve of your jaw — a trail of warmth. ”come back to me soon, won’t you?”

he smiles. you feel it, that soft upward curve, a blissed out sensation drowning you in white noise. the space inside your mind is free of pain, filled only with thoughts of him, the lines of his fingers burning patterns into your skin. one final kiss pressed between your brows, and then he’s pulling away; curling his arms under your knees and hoisting you up. into his steady arms, his robes shielding you from the soft glow of the stars.

”… don’t dawdle in dreamland for too long.”

the whisper goes unheard. fast asleep, suguru can only gaze at you, drinking in the serenity on your features. trying not to remember a boy with blue eyes — the similar expression he wore once his migraines had begun to fade.

he shakes his head, and carries you towards the bedroom. safe and sound in his embrace.

#geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk fluff #geto fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader

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ahundredtimesover · 1 year ago

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I Want You to Stay (06) | 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; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.6k

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: We're slowly heading somewhere! Still slow but it's something hehe thank you again for appreciating this piece! 🥰 Also... JK in that Vogue outfit with a corsage. YEP.

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

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

The silence that engulfs Jungkook’s apartment once you enter the following Monday is quite unnerving, as it brings back memories of the last time this happened and a half-naked woman came out of the bedroom and questioned who you were. The gym is empty. There’s no other sound of someone typing away or talking on the phone like the few times that you found Jungkook working before you even arrived.

You take a deep breath and decide to just face whoever comes out of these doors until one of them opens and out comes the man himself - alone - dressed in an oversized jumper and sweatpants. He looks like he just got out of bed with his semi-mussed hair - with a little sprout bouncing along as he moves - and groggy eyes, which widen once it registers that you’re here.

“Mr. Jeon,” you bow in greeting. “Are you feeling better?”

“A little,” he replies, his deep and gruff voice startling you a little. “What do you have there?”

He gestures towards the paper bag you’re holding, and you remember what you decided to bring over.

“Uh, chicken noodle soup,” you mutter, somehow suddenly shy. “Just an option for this morning. I wasn’t sure if you were still feeling under the weather.”

“I think I’m just fatigued,” he says. “But uh, I can have that.”

“Yes, sir,” you nod, putting it in a pot to eventually heat.

You prepare his suits for the week then prepare his breakfast, pouring yourself a small serving as well. He takes his seat and starts eating, and you glance at him to see his reaction.

“Where did you get the one from last Saturday?” He asks, his face expressionless.

“From a store nearby,” you answer. “I was heading somewhere and your building was on the way.”

“This tastes better. Where did you get this from?”

“I, uh, I made it,” you say softly, feeling a bit of pride that it’s something he complimented.

There’s prolonged silence that you’re suddenly nervous about. His eyes remain focused straight ahead while yours constantly flit towards him, partly to gauge if he’ll start talking about last week’s meeting and partly to see his reaction about your dish.

“You don’t have to send or make me food, Ms. Cho,” he finally says, wishing he’d said it with a bit more warmth.

But he’s not used to speaking that way, so it comes off as displeasure, as if he doesn’t appreciate what you’d done even if that’s exactly how he feels. He’s grateful; he just doesn’t want another reason to think that you actually care about him.

“My health is my responsibility, not yours,” he adds.

“I, uh… I suppose that’s true,” you say even more softly. “I just thought it would be nice to be given something like this when you’re sick.”

And it’s the truth. During the times you were unwell, Hoseok would remind you to rest or take your medicines; he even bought you vitamins and it’s why taking them became a habit of yours. You barely had the energy to make soup. But after that one time when you braved through an event and Yoongi noticed you feeling under the weather, he took you to a noodle house and ordered extra chicken noodle soup for you to take home. You had it all through the weekend, and though it wasn’t like your mom’s, it was still something familiar, and it was comfort that you badly needed.

You thought it was something you could extend to Jungkook. You weren’t sure if he was spending the weekend at home by himself, but in case he was, you thought that something warm would help. You were on your way to watch a local film and happened to pass by his area, the image of him sick and probably alone prompting you to just buy that dish and leave it at the reception. You suddenly craved it and made one for yourself last night, thinking it wouldn’t hurt if you brought some over for him as well. Even if he thinks it isn’t your responsibility, you think it’s still within your role to make sure that your boss - the Vice President - conducts his functions properly, and he can only do so if he’s healthy.

As you finish the small portion that you prepared for yourself, Jungkook wonders who’d taken care of you during the times you were sick. With your friends and family miles away, perhaps there wasn’t anyone. Maybe it was a boyfriend. Or maybe like what he’s come to see, you did things on your own. Maybe you think there’s no one doing that for him, too.

And you wouldn’t be wrong. He was never good with company, after all, whether it was offering or keeping it. So when someone offers something as simple as a bowl of soup for when he’s feeling unwell, it cuts through the walls he’s built around himself because he’s become used to no one even knocking to check how he’s doing.

But in an effort to remain unmoved and insistent on keeping his distance, he sets boundaries once more.

“You don’t need to do this for me, Mr. Cho,” he states. “I appreciate it, but I’d prefer if you don’t do it again.”

He sees your face fall from his periphery, and much as he wants to take it back, he knows he has to hold back. It was hard enough to resist feeling cared for.

He’d really spent the weekend by himself, turning down his friends’ invitation to go to a resort and Hoseok’s offer of dinner at this newly opened steak house. Jungkook was buried under the covers when the phone rang informing him that you’d left something for him, unwilling to move and get off the bed because he was too tired but also too hungry, so when he opened the bag and it registered to him what you've given him, he felt less alone and less sad for himself. The image of your shy expression flashed through his mind and he couldn’t help the smile he let out, giving himself only a minute to bask in your kindness before reminding himself that it means nothing more than making sure he’s well. It’s harder for you if he’s sick, he convinced himself. Still, he’d rather not think about it; he’d rather not torture himself by his brain wanting you to mean one thing, but his heart hoping it was another.

“I understand, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your voice a little too firm for his liking. “I apologize if it made you uncomfortable.”

“It—” didn’t, he wants to say. It made him feel nice and comfortable and that’s what he can’t let himself feel around you.

“I treat this as part of my job,” you reason, a half lie because you really did want to extend some kindness even if he may not exactly be deserving of it. “But it may not be so for you. I’ll take note of this moving forward.”

Jungkook concedes. Any objection will counter what he’s been saying, even if he didn’t mean all of it. And like how you always do, you get over it quickly, flashing him a measured smile and taking out your iPad to go through this week’s schedule.

You both head to the car after and discuss his previous meetings. You’re detailed and engaged, taking down notes and asking him questions like the professional that you are. He tells you about his meeting with artist Lee Jaemin and that he agreed with 80% of the pieces that you and Yoongi chose. You talk about the Board members’ reactions during his presentation and he shares what they talked to him about during the dinner.

“Socializing with them was tiring,” he admits. “I couldn’t keep up with all the things that they wanted to talk about.”

You give him an assuring smile. “You looked like you did well,” you assure him. “They seemed engaged, although as Mr. Jung would say, part of that is for show, to get on your good side. It would be smarter to think that not all of it was genuine.”

“True. But I enjoyed speaking with Mr. Saito. He’s an architect, too, and we had a really good talk about incorporating traditional elements in a modern design.”

“Yes, he’s always been kind,” you say. “But it’s good that you’re able to forge these relationships. Perhaps it’s also new to them, seeing you in that light. I suppose they don’t know you all that much. It’s a nice change being able to engage with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah, well, it’s just during the company events that you attended, it wasn’t exactly hard to spot you,” you chuckle, seemingly comfortable now.

“And why is that so?”

He turns to you, legitimately curious because he’d never really noticed you before, even if he knew you as Hoseok’s assistant. If he’s being honest, you didn’t even look familiar when you first met, and that just reinforces the fact that Jungkook didn’t really care for the other people around him, especially during those events he was required to fly to Seoul to attend. If he’d paid a bit more attention, maybe he wouldn’t have been caught off guard when he did finally meet you. Maybe he wouldn’t have been as rude, too.

“If I may, sir, it was quite easy to spot one of the Jeon sons always at the bar,” you chuckle. “Your father and cousin would often look for you and you were always in the same spot.”

You’d noticed him, Jungkook thinks to himself. He wonders what you’d thought about him then, but given how he hated those events, it probably wouldn’t be something good. He just always couldn’t wait to leave.

“Ah. As you can tell, I’m not one who likes to socialize,” he says. “I don’t really know what to talk to people about. And I’m not that good with names nor faces. It was easier to keep to myself.”

“That’s understandable. But you already know that’ll have to change,” you remind him. “Half of what Mr. Jung did was attend events.”

“I know. He’s been preparing me for that. I need your help in that aspect, too, from remembering names to getting my energy up. Those are oddly what I’m most nervous about, if I’m being honest.”

“I’ll do what I can, Mr. Jeon,” you assure him. “I hope I can make things easy for you.”

You’ll never know the irony of your words, and perhaps the push and pull it brings about - as you try to make things easy for him, the harder it actually becomes on his end.

You find yourself back at the tailor shop the next Thursday for Jungkook’s suit fitting, and if it wasn’t for Taehyung telling you that your gowns are ready, you would have totally forgotten that you had some dresses made as well.

While Jungkook tries on his outfits, you’re instructed to choose several dress shirts that he’d be adding to his wardrobe, given the various functions he’d be attending from now on. You didn’t anticipate for this to be part of your role, but you don’t mind, as it’s a welcome change to what you normally do, which is attend meetings, bury yourself in paperwork, and everything else in between. At least you’ll be visiting the venue for the Arts Center event tomorrow, but today, you focus on the task at hand, which turns out to be harder than expected.

The options are endless. It doesn’t help that you have to envision Jungkook in each piece of clothing and that he looks good in every one of them, and that you have to imagine him at all. You see him everyday - and have seen him in as little as in just his gym shorts - and you don’t really want to have him in your mind as well. But how he presents himself is a big part of his new role, as Hoseok had told you. As the Vice President, Jungkook needs to look sophisticated and respectable, someone worthy to represent the company and the Jeon family name.

You go for different hues of grays and blacks and other colors, too. There’s an olive green that looks really nice, and a few maroons and pinks that would add variety to his everyday look. You’re focused on making your choices, but your focus shifts to Jungkook when he comes out of the dressing room donned in a patterned black suit. The fit is perfect and even with the distance between you two, you could spot impeccable details that make the outfit look elegant yet fresh.

“This is for the gala,” Taehyung states. “What do you think, Ms. Cho?”

“It looks nice” is all you manage to say.

It’s the only word you feel is neutral enough to describe him. Even if you could accept that Jungkook is handsome, you don’t exactly want to say so in front of him.

“I was going for something better than nice, but that should be fine, I guess. What do you think, Kook?”

“I like it. But don’t you think the sleeves are a bit too fit on my arms?” Jungkook asks his friend.

“Well, it’s not like you were flexing them when I was measuring you,” Taehyung playfully rolls his eyes. “But I can adjust it, since I doubt you’d take a pause on lifting weights anyway. It’s probably the material though so don’t worry, I’ll fix this. Okay, on to the next one.”

You return to your task at hand, choosing some patterned tops that are appropriate for less formal events, and you inform Taehyung who then says that he’ll have those made in Jungkook’s measurements. With your task finished, Taehyung instructs you to head downstairs so you could fit your gowns as well, and you follow in anticipation because these might just be the first and only custom-made pieces of clothing you’ll ever have the luxury of wearing.

A female staff assists you, making sure that the length and neckline are to your liking. The first outfit, the one for the Arts Center event, is an old rose sleeveless lace midi dress that looks even more gorgeous when worn. The gown for the Appointment Dinner is a black short-sleeved pleated piece that is both functional and fashionable, but it’s the last one - the one for the gala - that has your jaw dropping to the ground.

“Ms. Cho,” you hear Taehyung call out from outside the fitting room. “Is everything okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, unable to stop looking at yourself in the mirror and turning around to try to see every angle of the stunning dress. “It’s just, uh…”

“It’s what?” He asks worriedly. “Can you come outside so I can see?”

You take a breath before pulling the heavy curtains open and find Taehyung and Jungkook standing not far away.

“It’s too pretty, Mr. Kim,” you say shyly. “I don’t think I can wear this.”

“Well, you will. Because it’s custom-made,” he points out. “And it looks gorgeous on you. It fits perfectly. I assume the others do as well?”

“Yes,” you smile, feeling like a fairytale princess who gets to wear a gown that her fairy godmother had made for her. “They’re just…”

“Exactly what you need as this guy’s right hand woman,” Taehyung finishes for you.

He gestures towards his best friend who seems expressionless and probably unimpressed by how you look. It’s not like you mind but it at least wouldn’t be humiliating if he just stood there looking uninterested.

“What do you think, Kook?”

“It looks nice,” Jungkook shrugs, repeating the words you’d used on him earlier. Shifting his gaze from you to Taehyung, he excuses himself. “I’ll head to the car, I have calls to make.”

“I’ll finish up here,” you say, turning around to go back to the fitting room.

Jungkook exits the shop and finally breathes, feeling like he’d suffocated inside because of how you looked. He’d wondered how the dresses turned out, curious about the designs because Taehyung didn’t want to show him; it’s a surprise, the man had said. And now Jungkook knows why.

Stunning would be an inadequate word to use. The burgundy color of the gown made it look sophisticated on you, even more with the off-shoulder that showed off some of your features that he’d rather not think about. The flow was elegant, and he half wishes that he hadn’t thought of having these made only so he could avoid the moment earlier when he felt his throat dry up because of how beautiful you looked.

He’s gonna have to get used to being rendered speechless every time, he thinks, but it’s not like it doesn’t happen everyday, anyway. Every morning that he finds you standing in his kitchen, donning the pencil skirt and blouse ensemble that assistants are recommended to wear, his mind short circuits. There’s something especially fresh and electrifying about you at the start of the day, and he always has to pull himself together and act normal around you without giving himself away.

He can’t nurture the attraction, after all, even if he’s reminded of it during times like earlier, even more so when he gazes at you and you hold it, letting the tension build unconsciously. Because that’s what happened, as you pulled open the curtains and looked up. He wishes you were too shy to notice how long he had his eyes on you. But it’s why he had to get away. You’re too much for him sometimes, and he doesn’t know if you have any idea of how you affect him.

Jungkook stares at his phone, half hoping that an actual call would come to distract him. But nothing does, and he leans his head back and groans in frustration. What is it about you that makes him absolutely weak in the knees and stupid in the head?

Back inside, you give Taehyung your address so he can have the gowns delivered to your apartment for your convenience.

“Thank you again, Mr. Kim,” you say. “I wish I could do your creations justice.”

“You will. It’s in the confidence, so exude it, okay?”

“I’ll try,” you giggle. “Especially since those pieces will pretty much blow the Office of the VP’s budget.”

“Is that what Kook said? That these are budgeted under him?” Taehyung arches an eyebrow.

“Uh, yes, sort of. I just assumed because he’d pointed out that they were being made as part of my functions,” you explain.

“Hmm. I know his office has a lot of money but these gowns would definitely blow up any contingency fund you have,” he chuckles. “So no, your assumption is wrong. Kook’s paying for all this.”

“What?” You exclaim. “But that’s— why?”

“Well, you do need these as part of your job, and he wanted to save you the inconvenience of spending for them. I mean, he did buy Lucas some suits, too. But between you and me, I think this is his way of apologizing to you, just in a very gallant way.”

“You mean unnecessary and undeserving,” you correct, still in shock that Jungkook is paying for all those, even if yes, he can easily afford them.

“Nope, not at all. I know he’s been difficult to deal with and I’d like to apologize on his behalf, seeing that he’s terrible at doing it. I know it doesn’t make things better but at least it’s something you don’t have to worry about anymore.”

“Well, that does help a bit,” you smile, following him as he heads out the door. “But thank you again, Mr. Kim.”

“Off with the formalities,” he laughs. “It’s Taehyung. And you’re welcome. It’s the least I could do to somehow make up for my ass of a best friend.”

“He’s not too bad. Not anymore, at least,” you counter. “I’ll go ahead. Have a good day, Taehyung!”

Jungkook manages to look down on his phone in time for you not to see him watch you talk freely and casually with his friend. That’s another person close to him who gets to experience how you’re like - joyful and warm, perhaps a little shy sometimes, but comfortable just the same. It’s something he’ll only see from afar; your positions necessitate some distance, but perhaps that’s better than not having you around at all.

You enter the car and you’re back to being quiet and reserved, your eyes focused on the road while Jungkook, in an effort not to keep glancing at you, turns to his leather notebook and doodles some designs that pop in his head. It’s his way of calming himself down most days, helping him focus given that his mind is often filled with too many thoughts that he can’t express. He hopes that in drawing them, he can somehow rid himself of the feelings he’s locked in and it helps, as he’s somehow able to get over the tension from earlier and the tiniest bit of jealousy over your casual engagement with Taehyung.

You both return to the office, with Jungkook proceeding to his room to prepare for a lunch meeting and you follow, taking some signed documents that he’d left earlier.

“Mr. Jeon,” you say as he settles in his seat. “Thank you for the dresses. I… I’ve never had anything as beautiful as those and undeserving as I may feel, I’m just really appreciative.”

Jungkook isn’t prepared for the softness in your voice as you say the words, and like the consistent jerk that he is, he brushes it off.

“Taehyung made them; you should thank him. I just paid for them,” he utters, his tone stern and uncaring.

His eyes flit to you when there’s silence on your end, and he wishes they hadn’t. There’s resignation in yours, as if he’s shattering another moment you’re creating where you’re just being sincere and he’s being dismissive. It’s his default, he reasons, not just towards you but towards everyone. Normally he wouldn’t mind how the other would take it, but with you right now, he wishes he was so much better than this.

You hold his gaze, as if trying to tell him things you don’t want to express. He’s not one to apologize, but he also won’t accept gratitude. You’re starting to think that what Jungkook can’t handle is any form of human connection. It’s something you struggle with at times, but you’re at least open to it, willing to accept kindness and appreciating people for what they have to offer. Jungkook deflects; he turns away. It seemed like it took so much for him to even verbalize needing your help and perhaps he was desperate; his reputation was on the line after all. But even then, he doesn’t give nor does he accept, and you wonder what made him that way.

“Is there anything else?” He finally asks after a long beat of silence.

“Nothing more,” you shake your head and excuse yourself.

Returning to your desk, you look at Jungkook from your seat. There’s a hint of emptiness in his eyes that you often mistake for apathy. Perhaps there’s more and perhaps the help he really needs isn’t just about dealing with his father or remembering names or navigating relationships required for his role. Maybe it’s about opening himself up a little, or smiling when the situation calls for it, or not questioning other people’s kindness towards him. Maybe it’s about realizing he’s more than just this heir to the company or the playboy he’s known as. Maybe it’s about seeing that he’s capable of sincerity and gentleness as well.

You sigh to yourself. It’s probably a long shot but you only feel strongly about it because you know what it’s like to turn people away. If it hadn’t been for your family and friends, you probably would’ve continued to do so. Jungkook may be your boss but he’s human, too, and he may just be waiting around to see who’d be patient enough to extend a hand and let him know that he’s not alone, that someone understands, and maybe that someone is you.

The days fly by too quickly for your liking and you haven't been able to take a breath. You had a meeting with the organizing committee of the Appointment Dinner most of last Friday and you spent your weekend coordinating with the designers for the Arts Center launch. It’s been last minute preparations these past two days and before you know it, Wednesday has come. You stayed late the night before and were gladly checked in at the hotel with the other assistants, so you at least got a bit of sleep even if your body felt like it continued to stay awake.

But tonight is important, as the newly appointed executives will be formally introduced to the corporation’s directors, shareholders, and subsidiary companies. You’ve been organizing this with the planning committee since the appointments were announced, and given that coordinating events like this is one of your primary tasks, you’re exhausted and excited and nervous all at once. But it’s the second time you’re doing this and you’ve learned so much since you did this for Hoseok. There’s more knowledge, sure, but there’s also more confidence. You also know enough to eat before the guests arrive and at 3PM, it’s exactly what you do, knowing you won’t have much else until the event ends.

The other employees compliment your dress, and you’re too shy to say who had designed it but you eventually do, knowing it’s good for Taehyung’s brand. But you don’t say much else, choosing instead to focus on the guest list as you’re tasked to do, and you go around the events hall to make sure that the VIP name cards are placed on their proper tables. You’re able to sneak bites of the canapes as you go, allowing yourself a flute of champagne for that kick you need to socialize with the guests tonight.

You engage with the early birds when they arrive, guiding them to their seats and putting on your most welcoming smile. You get Mr. Ri’s message that they’re nearby, so you head outside and stand by the entrance and wait for them, knowing Jungkook would want to know how things are going.

He exits the car in a black suit and white top, a statement brooch adorning his classic coat. The strands of his long hair are tucked behind his ears and he looks even more polished than usual, a look that catches attention; it definitely catches yours.

“Mr. Jeon,” you bow in greeting. “Some of your invited guests have arrived.”

“Have you spoken to them?” He asks, as you walk slightly behind him towards the venue.

“I have, and they’re looking forward to seeing you.”

He nods, and just as he’s about to enter the hall, he stops and turns towards you.

“You’re busy tonight, aren’t you?”

“Somewhat, sir,” you reply. “We all have our tasks but I’m free to move around. Do you need help with anything?”

“Just, uh, names.”

“I’ll always be nearby,” you assure him.

Your smile gives him the comfort he needs. He’s been without it since yesterday afternoon, given that you had to prepare as part of the organizing committee. And while the support team and Yoongi have been encouraging, only you really know why every event such as this is important for him.

Jungkook has already made gains with some of the Board members last week; this time, it’s about engaging everyone else - the staff, the partners, and key personalities in the industry. Hoseok and Ji-woo have done this before but it’s Jungkook’s first time. He’s no longer just an executive in the Southeast Asian office; he’s now the Vice President of the entire company. There’s a lot of pressure that comes from carrying the Jeon family name, and even more being the only one of the two sons who’s taking on such an important role.

The event hall is grand. It’s pretty special, too. It’s one of the projects he worked on as part of the design department years ago before he left for Singapore, and the thought makes him stop. Perhaps this is the reason why his father chose this venue for tonight; if anything, it’s a reminder of what Jungkook is capable of. He takes a breath and looks around to soak everything in before approaching his invited guests - partners and consultants he worked with in his previous role.

But that ends quickly, as many more people approach him for a greeting.

Jungkook is a bit overwhelmed. He tries to hold eye contact when he speaks to them but he can only do so for so long. Some faces are familiar but the names escape him, and he starts to regret all the times that he flew here for events like this and never engaged with the other guests. If he had, perhaps this wouldn’t be so hard.

There are those who introduce themselves, while there are those who don’t, perhaps assuming that he’d know who they are. Just like the couple who’s speaking to him excitedly, and he wants to return the energy by at least calling them by their names. His mind is blank, and just as he’s about to give up, he looks up and sees you, your eyes catching his as if you’re just waiting for his cry for help.

There’s pleading in his eyes and you get it immediately, as you walk towards his direction then greet the pair next to him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Yamada,” you say. “It’s lovely to see both of you again. I saw in the news that you’re launching a new project with our partners from Dubai. That’s quite exciting.”

“Ah, Ms. Cho,” they greet you back. “Yes, all thanks to Mr. Jung who helped us with that partnership. We’re excited for it as well.”

“Oh, I’m sure. We’re looking forward to it,” you smile.

“Thank you. I’m pleased to know that you remain as the Vice President’s assistant,” Mrs. Yamada says. “Perhaps we can invite Mr. Jeon to one of our hotels in Japan? Or even in London?”

You turn to Jungkook who looks less tense than he did a few minutes ago.

“Ah, yes, that would be great, Mr. and Mrs. Yamada,” he responds. “I’m sure I’ll find time during one of my trips and I’ll definitely give you a call. Perhaps we can talk about projects we can work on as well.”

The excitement in the couple’s faces is a joy to see and for their sake, you really do wish that Jungkook makes good on his promise. You ask him about it after they leave, and he says that the names were familiar. Ji-woo’s talked about working with them before and that they’re long-time friends of the family, so he should maintain that relationship.

A call of his name prompts both of you to look to the side, and he turns to you with a questioning face.

“Mr. Adam’s an investor. Behind him is Professor Zhang from SNU. They’re friends of your father,” you tell him. Seeing Bitna signal for you, you say, “I have to check on something, Mr. Jeon. I’ll be back.”

You turn around to head to one of the tables, but you look back to watch Jungkook greet those who approach him, his smile becoming more natural as the moments pass by. You briefly meet with some staff about the musical guest and some other last minute adjustments. You greet Taehyung and Seokjin who show up to support their best friend, with both men complimenting how you look.

Knowing that Jungkook will be needing you again after, you call over Do-hyun and Yohan and delegate some of your monitoring tasks to them, and then stand by one of the tables as you watch the socialization take place as more guests come in.

Your eyes find Jungkook again as he’s engaged in a conversation with some Board members and other partners, and you smile a little at how he’s able to maintain eye contact and look like he’s actually interested, especially after he looks up and gives you a look as if to say that he’s trying his best.

“Why are you watching him like some child who’s trying to make friends at the playground?” Chin-sun asks, the teasing tone of her voice making you chuckle. “He’s a grown man, you know? He can hold his own.”

“I know,” you reply, turning to her. “But it’s one of the many things that’s new about his role. And probably one of the more important ones. I just wanna let him know that he’s doing a good job.”

“Well, there’s no wife or girlfriend to do that. I guess that makes it your responsibility then.”

You disregard her comment’s implication and point out that Hoseok does that for Jungkook, too, but he’s just as busy and perhaps just as nervous as well.

“It matters a lot to hear it. Plus, social events can be overwhelming and isolating at the same time. He’s still getting used to it,” you add.

The prolonged silence prompts you to turn to her.

“You know, I admire you for a lot of things,” she says. “Your ability to remain kind after everything is one of them. I mean, after how he treated you those first few weeks? That was tough.”

Your resigned face pushes her to continue. “Do-hyun could’ve gone on without telling me about seeing you cry and I still would’ve known. You tried to hide it but your smile always fell too fast and your eyes were just always sad. Must’ve been hard, trying to get the team on his side when you couldn’t do that for yourself.”

“I honestly don’t know how I survived that first month,” you laugh to mask the sadness from that experience. “But that’s in the past. He still has his moments but at least there are good ones now. I’m here to do my job. Being kind after everything is part of it.”

“I wish you didn’t have to keep it to yourself though,” she laments. “If we couldn’t help, we could’ve at least cheered you up.”

“I didn’t want to bring you guys into it,” you say. “The team was incredibly busy with so many things and I managed. That’s what matters.”

“Oh, ___,” she sighs. “You put so much of yourself in your job. I think that’s why the bosses trust you. But that takes so much out of you, too. Do you have anything left for yourself?”

“What’s left is right here, Chin-sun. I don’t think I know what I am outside of all this.”

“Doesn’t that bother you? I mean, I’ve worked with you for three years and I can’t say I really know you outside of this, too. And if you can’t… well, that’s something to think about.”

“And I have. It’s something I’ve asked myself, but trying to find the answer isn’t as easy as asking the question. So I just put all my energy into my work because where else would I? It at least pays the bills and lets me enjoy little luxuries every once in a while,” you reason.

“Well, I know what learning who you are outside of this job would entail, and I’m a little selfish because I need you around,” she smiles. “No one does things the way you do, and that’s also why I figured that at some point, Mr. Jeon was gonna get himself together because he can’t afford to lose you. You’re so good at this, ___. He’s lucky you didn’t quit.”

“Apparently, it takes a lot to get me to quit,” you reply.

Or I was just never brave enough to do it, you want to say. Asking the question is indeed always easier than finding the answer.

“Let’s hope you find a way to find yourself without resigning. We can’t afford to lose you, too,” she winks.

“I appreciate that, Chin-sun. Thank you.”

“Well, I think it matters that you know that you’re doing amazing. I hope he treats you as you deserve.”

He tries, you think to yourself. At least that’s what you hope.

The call of your names from a familiar voice excites you, as A-yeong approaches you and Chin-sun. You engage in your usual hushed conversations until you see Jungkook in another sea of people and you decide to approach him, the relief on his face telling you that he’s indeed been needing you.

It’s not your preferred crowd. Something you’ve learned in your years of attending these events is that you would smile and entertain them and men would think it’s an invitation to invade your personal space. A lingering touch on the elbow, a hand on your waist, standing a millimeter too close… and they disregard your uncomfortable look or attempts at stepping away.

The man you’re introduced to is new but his ways aren’t, and you scan the hall to find Bitna who turns to you in time, the look you give her signaling another person to look out for. It’s a system they developed that they’ve filled you in on, and you immediately excuse yourself and check on the food served at the back even if you know they’re still well stocked. It at least allows you a breather. You’re not even a main actor but you’re tired as hell from socializing with people.

It’s not long after when the event starts. Speeches and a performance take place while dishes are being put out, and it’s after the main course is served when Jungkook steps away from his seat.

Choosing to stand towards the back before he’s called on stage to be introduced, he scans the hall and thinks about the work that the committee put in, including you, who had to deal with him while dealing with all this. He catches sight of you speaking with the other assistants, and he already knows there’s some planning going on. But like the last time, he felt you around even if you were busy; you held his gaze during the times he felt a little overwhelmed.

“You ready?”

Yoongi’s voice is deep but calming, and Jungkook takes it as his friend’s way of encouraging him.

“Not really, but I’ll manage.”

“Good. You’ve got people on your side,” Yoongi assures him. “Like me. And especially her.”

He gestures towards the left where Jungkook sees you approaching them. Since you started working for him, he didn’t expect how easily he could find comfort in your presence. He went from wishing you were someone else, to wanting to distance himself from you, to constantly hoping you were around. Those last two could actually coexist, and they do. There’s still detachment as his means to combat the attraction - he tries not to care about you, to not get to know you, to remind himself of who you are in his life, but he still depends on you for support, for comfort, for stability. You make his life easier; you also make it feel less lonely. And every time you’re there is a moment where he feels like he could breathe, like the noise in his mind stills because he’s forced to focus on you; somehow, you captivate him that way.

“Are you ready, Mr. Jeon?”

The contrasting tenderness of your voice gives him that boost and he nods despite the lingering nervousness.

“I guess so,” he huffs. “Let’s get this over with.”

He walks towards his seat up front while you stay behind with Yoongi who leads you to one of the free tables at the back. You both don’t say much to each other, focusing instead on the short speeches that Ji-woo and Hoseok give, both of them expressing their gratitude and giving previews of upcoming projects to look forward to. They’re masters at commanding a crowd, as evidenced by their engagement and loud applause at the end of it. You can already imagine Jungkook feeling even more nervous, knowing that’s not really his style, but you hope that your earlier encouragement lingers, as he walks towards the stage.

He delivers his speech flawlessly. Knowing him the way you do, you could tell he let his vulnerability shine through, even if it may not seem much to everyone else. The teaser about the Arts Center gets people excited, which he builds up on. He even slides in a few jokes that surprisingly get the audience entertained.

A small smile paints your face and from next to you, Yoongi chuckles in almost disbelief.

“Is it safe to say you’re proud of him?” He asks, as Jungkook walks down the stage and CEO Jeon takes the mic.

“You could say that,” you turn to him. “It’s silly, considering how things started. I… I didn’t think I’d be genuinely rooting for him, you know? But I am. I really want him to do well.”

“That’s good to hear, ___. I guess it means that things really are changing and he’s treating you better.”

“I think they are,” you hum. “I mean, not the best, but I also don’t know what that’s supposed to look like. I guess I’m just understanding who he is a little bit better now. And I think that makes the difference.”

“Like I said, he’s not a terrible person. He just needs… someone to be patient with him, someone to show him kindness,” Yoongi says. “I think that’s what he lost along the way. He stopped being that way to himself and so did people. They just didn’t want to upset him, but they also didn’t give or show anything more.”

“You think so?”

“Why do you think it’s so hard for him to forge even the simplest and most basic connections?” Yoongi questions. “They lack meaning for him. I think he’s forgotten what that’s like. Without sincerity or kindness, without intensity or honesty, there’s just… emptiness. Everything is fleeting for him.”

“And you’re telling me this, why?” You eye him curiously.

“Because I think your kindness did something to him.”

“And that is?”

“He’s showing a bit of that to himself, too. And I guess to others as well,” Yoongi explains.

“I’m a mere assistant doing her job, Yoongi,” you shake your head. “It’s a little selfish but I do what I can to appease him and to make our relationship good enough to make this job bearable for me. If it makes him a better person, good for him and better for me. I’ll just keep doing it then.”

Your friend’s silence prompts you to turn towards him. He seems to be in deep thought, perhaps analyzing what you’d just said, which he tends to do.

There’s no lie in your statement. You’d done your part of standing up to Jungkook at the start; you at least got to show you were capable of fighting for yourself in that sense. But after that, you learned that keeping things in and letting him see how his actions affect you works as well. You show kindness because it’s natural for you, but also because it keeps the peace, it keeps both of you stable.

But you can also admit that you do all that because wanting him to know that he’s got you on his side is a way to tell yourself that you’ve got people rooting for you, too, even if you’re not the best at keeping relationships nor keeping people close. You show Jungkook what you want to experience from people; you make him feel what you want to feel. Maybe that makes you selfish. You think it also makes you human.

It’s not something you tell Yoongi, though. But maybe with the way he looks at you assuringly, you suppose he knows it, too.

The event finally ends and the guests start exiting the venue. You bid them goodbye while instructing some in-house staff about cleaning up. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon greet you on their way out, commending you for your work along with the others, and it’s their encouraging smiles that remind you of one of the reasons why you stick to this job. They’re people you don’t want to disappoint as well, and seeing them satisfied is always a good thing.

“Hey, you’re officially off the clock,” Bitna reminds you. “A couple of us are staying for closing, remember?”

“Right,” you smile.

They have a day off tomorrow because of tonight but it’s not something you can afford, given that you’ve got the Arts Center event one a week from now. It’s almost midnight and you’d have to be up in 5 hours.

“I’ll get going then. I’ll just say goodbye to— oh, Mr. Jeon,” you say, finding him just as you were about to look for him. “Is there anything I can help you with before I leave?”

“Oh, there’s nothing. Just, uh, how are you getting home?”

“A cab,” you answer.

Yoongi nudges your arm from next to you with a pout on his face. “Yah! I’ll take you home. It’s not safe to take a cab this late.”

“Yes, that’s preferable, Ms. Cho,” Jungkook says. “It’s been a long night.”

“Okay, sir,” you nod. “And it has. You also did really well. I didn’t expect the jokes but they were obviously a hit. Yoongi laughed, that’s how I know.”

“You laughed, too,” Yoongi points out.

“I’m glad it worked, then,” Jungkook says. “You can get going. You can also report to my place at 8AM to give you more time to rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jungkook heads out and rushes to the car where Mr. Ri drives him home. His mind is still buzzing from what transpired but he’s glad he managed like he said he would, like you believed he would.

And amidst the relief that he did well and the nervousness from having to do something similar again next week, there’s you, a vision that he quickly shakes off and one he finds himself seeing after every big and small thing that he does.

Your warm shower and your bed have never felt this good, only because you’re as tired as you are and you want nothing more than the weekend to come. But you’ve got a few more stressful days ahead of you and you try to push through them one at a time.

You go to Jungkook later than usual that Thursday then spend much of the entire day meeting with him and the team about next week’s event. You conduct a visit to the venue the next day and then spend the weekend answering guests’ queries and helping Chin-sun coordinate with suppliers. Monday and Tuesday have you going from one place to another and hopping from one meeting to the next, all while balancing your executive assistant and events manager responsibilities.

It’s incredibly tiring, but you also won’t deny the exhilaration you feel. There’s something so satisfying about seeing everything come together, especially as you look around the venue - an industrial commercial space that Jungkook and Yoongi jointly designed specifically for tonight. The high ceilings allow for the large panels that project the Arts Center design, with bright lights Illuminating the curated sculptures and art pieces placed around. The space elicits a feeling of newness and familiarity, of hollowness and clarity. There’s integration of traditional and modern elements and essentially, of history and emergence.

It leaves you quite breathless as you look around. It’s not even the Arts Center itself but you know that this is the emotion that Jungkook wants the guests to feel. He wants them to be in awe, to look on in excitement.

“It’s pretty great, huh?” Yoongi asks next to you. “Worth all the hard work.”

“It is. Design and logistics did amazing in putting this together,” you say, given that you’ve spent the entire day working with both teams to set this up.

“Well, Jungkook’s vision is captivating to begin with. It really makes a difference when you’re led by a creative mind. Selling the idea won’t be so hard in a place like this.”

“I really hope so. We’re banking on the artists for exposure. There are gonna be articles about it, too. The whole process is being documented and that makes the final product much more exciting,” you explain. “I… I actually feel really good being a part of this. I’m glad I didn’t quit after that first week.”

Yoongi laughs along with you, knowing now that that experience no longer bothers you the way it used to. But he’s glad about it, too, not only because he selfishly wants you around but even more, he knew that you needed this, that you needed to feel redeemed in Jungkook’s eyes and in yours. Yoongi hopes that as the project goes on, you’ll learn more about yourself and what you want, what you’re good at, what you can give, and what makes you happy.

“That makes both of us. I’m sure Jungkook thinks so, too,” Yoongi replies.

“Well, we’ll never know because he’ll probably never admit it but it’s a good thought,” you smile. “As long as we maintain this unproblematic dynamic, I’m good.”

“Speaking of which, where is he?”

“On the way,” you say. “He had a meeting to attend and he said he’ll be fixing up here. He should be here in a few minutes.”

Do-hyun approaches you about the photographer and you excuse yourself, instructing Yohan next to her to lead Jungkook to the waiting room when he arrives.

Jungkook steps into the venue and like he’d hoped, he feels the energy as he takes it all in. There’s a lot of possibility as he looks around, and that’s what he wants the guests to see. He wants the artists to envision their own pieces displayed; he wants the creatives to imagine fashion shows and photo shoots and videos that come to life; he wants people to see the potential of an Arts Center beyond just looking at art pieces.

But underneath the pride is nervousness. There will be important personalities coming today and it’s his opportunity to engage with them, to make them want to be a part of this. Talking about the details of the project would be easy; it’s connecting with them that’s a challenge. He had last week’s Appointment Dinner as a trial and like you said, he did well. It’s tonight that matters so much more to him. He supposes that what happens will set the trajectory for how the promotion of the Center will go, so making a good first impression is crucial.

Yohan approaches him and leads him towards the waiting room where his outfit, which Taehyung had pressed and sent over here, hangs on a rack. There are two magazine publications that will feature this event and both include an interview with him and some photos.

Jungkook starts dressing up, knowing he’ll be called for those not long from now. He looks at himself in the mirror and the uncertainty fills him again. It’s not the look he would’ve gone for but his best friend was adamant that an event like this calls for something new. With his trousers and fitted shirt on, Jungkook breathes in and out, and it’s at the same time when there’s a knock on the door and your call of his name suddenly makes him nervous.

You enter, stopping as you shut the door, your eyes a little wide, and look at him. You’re a sight to behold in your floral-laced dress and if he was anxious seconds ago, he’s even more now.

“I knew I should’ve stuck to the classic,” Jungkook sighs at your unmoving form.

“What—what do you mean, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, finally finding your voice.

“You’re not saying anything,” he frowns. “Tonight probably wasn’t the best time to show up in an outfit like this.”

“And why is that?” You wonder, walking closer to him now. You try to calm your racing heart because Jungkook looking this good in a checkered flared trouser and white v-neck shirt was not something you expected. “You look…”

“Pretentious?” He chuckles, shaking his head and bending towards the mirror, his angled body making you feel even hotter.

You’ve long accepted that Jungkook is a very handsome man. It’s probably why it was more frustrating despising him and, like Soomin said, also satisfying. He’s got a perfect mix of boyish and manly features with his doe eyes and chiseled jaw; the aura of confidence and nonchalance perhaps add to that as well. It also doesn’t help that he has a really good physique, something you’d seen on his first day on the job and one you’d denied affected you. You’d gotten used to it somehow. Hard as it was to suppress those thoughts every time you fixed his tie or watched him walk about his penthouse in his gym clothes, you managed. You’ve always been professional, and you’ve always reminded yourself to not let it affect you.

But tonight, it’s just hard not to, especially with the way his biceps are popping out of those short sleeves; and if the shirt were an inch tighter, you’d probably be able to trace his toned chest and abs as well. He’s cut his hair, too, slick and pushed back as if he's starring in some western rockstar film.

“Good…” you manage to say after what seemed like minutes. “The outfit looks good on you, sir. It’s new and fresh, not like the usual formal attire that screams ‘businessman who only wants profits.’ This is posh and stylish. It makes you look more approachable.”

“This is what would make me look approachable?” He asks incredulously.

“Actually, a smile would,” you say too quickly, earning you a laugh. “But this works, too. It fits with the theme.”

“That’s what Tae said, too,” Jungkook sighs. “He insisted that at least for these Arts Center-related events, I should dress a little more boldly and more interesting, things I definitely am not but, well, I couldn’t counter him when he said that my usual prints and styles make me look like I’m just going to a meeting or some business conference.”

“And he’s not wrong,” you point out, walking closer to him. “You don’t need anything eccentric, just something exciting. This is simple yet sophisticated.”

“Have you seen the coat?” He asks, gesturing to the rack when you say no.

“Oh. There’s a corsage,” you say, admiring the matching brown checkered piece.

“An oversized one,” he rolls his eyes.

“It looks pretty.”

“That’s what he said, too.”

“If you don’t like it, why didn’t you tell him during the fitting?”

“I did like it but it’s Tae - he’s good at convincing people that they look good. And I probably thought that, too. But he’s not yet here and he’s gonna be late so right now, all I can think about is that I’ll look ridiculous.”

“Well, that makes one of us,” you say, surprising him. “If what I think matters, then you’d have to take my word for it. The outfit looks good. It captures people’s attention and that’s what you need. You’re just gonna have to follow this up with similar styles but that wouldn’t be a problem. Just carry yourself with confidence. It’s what Mr. Kim would say.”

“I know. He texted that same line to me five times today.”

“He’s your best friend, Mr. Jeon. I’m sure he’s looking out for your best interest.”

“True, but then again, we were forced to become friends when we were young so who knows?”

You laugh at his words. “Is that so?”

“Our fathers are best friends so we spent a lot of time together,” Jungkook shares. “We were all so different and we got on each other’s nerves but I guess that made us closer. I… I wasn’t close to my brother so I just stuck with those who stuck around. It’s a good thing they turned out to be decent people.”

“They’re very kind, I should say.”

“Yeah. It sucks that their kindness didn’t rub off on me,” he says as he holds your gaze.

The tension rises as you look back at him. It’s hard not to fall into his eyes, and you’re thankful for the knock on the door and Yohan’s voice on the other side saying that the interviewer is ready for Jungkook now.

“Five minutes,” you call out, breaking the moment and retrieving his last piece of clothing.

You assist him in wearing his coat and just like reflex, you immediately fix the sleeves and adjust the corsage that isn’t actually that big. You look at him from head to toe and see Taehyung’s vision. There’s something captivating about Jungkook in this fit; it makes him intriguing and someone to look out for. You suppose that was the intention.

“Respectable enough?” He asks worriedly once you meet his eyes.

“Respectable enough,” you affirm, hoping your smile can give him the encouragement he needs.

You open the door and let the first set of crew in. You watch on as they interview and take snapshots while your own team from the marketing department capture what’s happening as well.

Jungkook sits cross-legged on the sofa, his eyes looking out into the distance as he absorbs the questions and thinks of his answers. He gesticulates as he responds, something you noticed him only ever do about topics that seem very important to him. He’s done it during meetings with the team and with Yoongi, and you suppose there’s that level of honesty that he shows then. His responses are thoughtful and profound, as the questions revolve around the type of art pieces to be displayed, how culture can be celebrated and respected, and what the public can look forward to once the Center is open to everyone.

The next interviewer starts off with the practical questions before moving to the technicalities of the design and structure such as the materials used, the techniques utilized in renovating such a massive complex, and how the Center itself represents art and culture. This is when Jungkook fully relaxes. You see it in his body language, in the softness of his expressions, and in the mellow tone of his voice as he discusses in terms you don’t fully understand but somehow still make you feel like you know exactly what he’s talking about.

It’s different seeing him in this way. Your team vetted these interviewers and publications and they seem sincere about their articles and so you know they aren’t there to judge; Jungkook knows they aren’t there to scrutinize him. He’s not there to impress them or even to sell the idea; he just wants to share it, to make it known, to narrate the process of this project that may still be in its very early stages but which has lived in his mind for years.

He may not always be good with words but you can tell that he finds them when the ideas are clear to him. He’s able to articulate what he sees in his mind and there’s something captivating about that. There’s a lot you can learn from him, you think, and if what you develop after having stayed this long is even just a fraction of his creativity, then you’d feel accomplished.

You can tell even more now how important this is to him, especially when he emphasizes the individual’s need and desire for connection and how he wants the Center to be a hub for that, or perhaps its creator. You wonder if he knows so much about it, or if, like you, it’s something he also constantly seeks.

You’re so focused on taking him all in that you don’t notice that you’ve been staring. Your eyes fall on his fingers, waving about as he draws imaginary pictures; they land on his lips, pink and dry as they utter words that are perhaps the most he’s said, and suddenly, his voice is the most comforting it’s ever sounded to you. You look upwards and that’s when you notice it - his eyes are on you just as yours are on him yet he continues talking, and you hold onto it for a few seconds before you feel the heat reach your cheeks. It feels like a burn and you snap out of the spell-like feeling you were caught in as you turn away now and try to catch your breath.

You hadn’t meant to stare but you were drawn to him at that moment, and as he talked about how the designs reflect the tangibility yet elusiveness of human connection, you found yourself drowning in his words and in the way he said them. He’d caught you before you could look away, and you decide that the only way to go about it is to pretend it didn’t happen.

And that’s what you do, as you remain on your spot with your eyes scanning the room, no longer focused on him.

The interview ends right as Chin-sun enters to say that some guests have arrived. You instruct her to entertain them first with Manager Lee as you wrap up in here and it’s not long after when you’re left with Jungkook once again.

“Was that good?” He asks, his gaze on you as you look elsewhere.

“It was. You seemed more relaxed,” you state, unnecessarily fixing the couch to distract yourself. “That’s a good way to start the evening, Mr. Jeon. I’m sure the guests would enjoy speaking with you tonight.”

“That’s what I hope,” he replies. “I’ll need you close to me to keep track of scheduled meetings or any invitations. I’d also like them to be familiar with you as my assistant so they know who to reach out to in case I’m not available.”

“Of course, sir,” you say, turning around to face him again, suddenly feeling nervous about the intensity of his look. “I’ll take note of all those.”

He nods then exits the room and you follow. You trail him as he starts to greet the guests one by one.

There are heads of private foundations and curators. There are creative directors from entertainment agencies and some art enthusiasts. There are artists and authors and poets, all of whom are intrigued and seemingly excited about what’s in store.

Jungkook heads to the front after being introduced by Manager Lee and takes his time to introduce the project, utilizing the panels and all of the interiors’ walls to showcase the design virtually. He presents his plans and the role of artists, creatives, creators, and consumers. It’s a half hour speech that ends, followed by a light sit-down dinner that Jungkook takes advantage of to engage with the guests.

He first greets the deputy minister of the arts and culture ministry and then Mr. Saito, who’d likewise brought some of his artist friends from Japan.

You then follow Jungkook around as instructed, taking notes on your phone in between to list all the upcoming meetings and other activities scheduled on the spot. You’ve somehow developed this skill with Hoseok but it still doesn’t get any easier. The fact that so many of them want to touch base with Jungkook after his pitch says a lot about how well he did and how much it resonated with the people he wanted to connect with.

Based on your notes, you can already tell it’s gonna be incredibly busy moving forward, and the thought suddenly makes your head hurt. But you push through, knowing there are more people to meet with, even with Chin-sun and Manager Lee entertaining half of them.

Jungkook takes the stage again to introduce some of the artists whose works will be displayed in the Arts Center, and he gives them time to talk about their pieces and what drew them into the project. The company head who’s been contracted to create the products for the souvenir shop also speaks, and as they share, you feel the excitement heighten. The opening is still a long time from now but things seem so clear and so certain, and you know that was because of Jungkook - because he demands the same level of excellence he practices from others, because he’s committed to his vision and he makes sure to see it through.

More engagement takes place, and your only breather is when Jungkook decides to talk to his father and then Hoseok but after that, you’re back to following him around and running out of calling cards for people to keep and call you in the future.

The last of the remaining guests finally leave at 10PM. You look around and the art pieces are being carefully wrapped for transport. The panels remain but Do-hyun and Yohan will be returning in the morning to pack everything up. Slowly, you start to feel the soreness creep in and the headache intensify but you shake all the pain off. There are two more days left for the week and you just have to power through them to survive.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Chin-sun asks as she readies to leave.

“I live on the other side of the city from you. From all of you,” you remind them. It’s really the only reason why you don’t hitch a ride with them, especially considering that they have families and pets they go home to. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“What about Yoongi?” Jungkook asks, surprising you because you thought he’d been on the phone. “Can’t he drive you?”

“He left an hour ago, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. “He has that early morning flight to Jeju tomorrow.”

“Mr. Ri can drive you home after he drops me off,” Jungkook says. “It’s too late in the night and it might be hard for you to get a cab.”

“Okay, sir. Thank you,” you mumble, waving everybody goodbye as you follow him towards the car.

You get inside and find him sitting in the backseat, his coat removed and his head rolled back. You can tell all the socializing drained his energy again, and you’d hate to remind him that there’s a Property Expo next week that his father assigned him to attend, as well as a Partners’ Fellowship Dinner where he has to deliver another speech. You decide to do so in the morning instead and let the soft sounds of the radio soothe your mind.

“I think tonight was a success,” he mutters, prompting you to turn towards him. “Everyone I spoke to seemed excited.”

“They were,” you affirm. “They wouldn’t be scheduling meetings with you if they weren’t.”

“That’s true,” he hums. “That’s one major event down and several more to go.”

“I hope the team was able to show you how well we work together, Mr. Jeon. And that like me, they’re all on your side.”

Jungkook lets your words settle. He agrees. The team was like a well-oiled machine. Each member knew their roles and performed their tasks excellently. And there was you, of course, handling every one of his instructions and requests with grace. You looked really beautiful doing it, too, and he doesn’t know if he wants to thank or curse Taehyung for designing another dress that makes you stand out from the crowd because that’s what happened tonight - everywhere Jungkook looked, it seemed like all he could see was you.

He shakes away the thought, knowing that constantly acknowledging his attraction towards you would just make things harder for him the way that denying it would, and while he doesn’t have a solution for that either, he supposes that not acknowledging it at all would be the best option.

So he focuses on the team instead, and he feels comforted to know that they worked hard because they knew how much tonight mattered to him, as Do-hyun expressed earlier.

“I’m glad they are,” he finally replies. “I… I still don’t think I’m their favorite person but as long as they don’t despise me anymore, then I’m satisfied with that.”

“They don’t,” you counter, although even you’d know that’s a half-lie.

“They do. Or did, at least,” he laughs dryly. “It’s easy to stay unnoticed outside of the team’s office, you know?”

The tinge of sadness in his eyes confirms what you’re thinking - he’s heard some of the team conversations about him. And while you’d argue that they’re not vile or anything close to that, you also know that talking about him not smiling or not expressing his gratitude are things you shouldn’t be saying behind his back. Even if they’re true.

“I”m so, so sorry, Mr. Jeon. We–”

“It’s okay, it’s not a big deal,” he interjects. “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t given you reasons to feel that way. You all did go from Hoseok to me and that’s quite the downgrade in terms of camaraderie and stuff.”

“We still didn’t have the right to say those things. And no, I’m not agreeing that you’re a downgrade,” you clarify. “Like you said, you and your cousin are very different.”

“I did. And that’s why I’m not surprised, is all I’m saying. But despite all that, the team did amazing tonight. Not like I’d expect they wouldn’t because they prefer someone more joyful or expressive, but it… it was also nice to see them enjoying themselves. I hope you did, too.”

“It was a memorable experience, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “It’s something new. The previous projects and events we handled were either residential or commercial in nature and our creativity wasn’t pushed as far as the Arts Center is doing. And we all appreciate that, even if we may not show it.”

“That’s good. At least there’s still something that you’re all getting out of this.”

There’s a sadness in his voice that you’re hearing for the first time. You don’t know what about tonight that’s making him vulnerable and honest with you. Perhaps it’s all the talk about human connection that he seems to struggle with, and maybe he’s realizing now that even with the team performing as well as they are, there’s still something lacking in soul and emotion that he thinks is because of him.

Whatever it is, you hope that he doesn’t let it bring him down too much. Working closely with him, you’ve come to see more of him despite his efforts to keep those layers unpeeled and you’ve come to understand him a little more. You’ve forgiven him in the process, too. The team is still adjusting and you know it’s your job to bridge that gap. You’ll just have to figure out how.

You let the silence end the conversation, not knowing what else you can say to comfort him at this moment. But you try though, as the car stops in front of his building and you call his name right before he closes the door.

“Yeah?” He asks, looking curiously at you.

You almost forget what you’re about to say as he’s bent forward, his arm propped on the car roof, the surrounding lights highlighting the features of his face.

“You did great tonight, too. And I learned a lot from you. Thank you for guiding us, sir.”

He’s left speechless, as he holds your gaze for a moment before nodding and closing the door. Mr. Ri drives away and you look back to see Jungkook walk slowly towards the building entrance, briefly looking your way before disappearing inside.

You arrive at the office the next morning at 9AM with a splitting headache, your body dragging itself towards your chair as you try to maintain balance and get yourself together. Jungkook had messaged late last night that he was going to have a breakfast meeting with his father so you could go straight to work, and given last night’s late finish, you could come at a later time as well.

That gave you another two hours of sleep, which you were thankful for considering the terrible state you were in when you woke up. Your body felt sore and the dryness of your throat signaled that you’re about to get sick - it was just a matter of when it was going to fully kick in. It’s how your body reacts to stress, a pattern you noticed since you started working in the company. It’s usually after succeeding weeks of late nights and big events when you give in - the headaches start then the sore throat; not long after, the fever hits and you’d have to spend days just doing nothing until you’ve expelled the exhaustion away.

On rare occasions, your mother or friends come, knowing you’d be too sick to make yourself some food. But they don’t always have that luxury. They have their own lives, too, lives that they just happen to have far away from you. But it’s why it mattered that you gave Jungkook that noodle soup when he was unwell. You know what it’s like to be sick and hungry and completely helpless, and you had a feeling that just like yourself, he’d deal with it on his own. You’ll probably have to stock up on food tonight to get you through the next few days; you just hope you haven’t completely fallen apart by then.

You take your medicines and try to focus on your tasks for this morning, scheduling meetings and screening photos from last night to be used for marketing purposes. Needing some tea, you head to the pantry and briefly check in with the team before heading back. You see that Jungkook has just arrived, as he accompanied his father to one of their project sites after their meeting. He calls you over and asks if Do-hyun and Yohan have come back from fixing things at last night’s venue.

“Yes, sir, they just got here,” you reply. “Everything’s been stored properly and Chin-sun’s working on the payments already.”

“Good,” Jungkook responds. “It’s lunchtime though, so you should all grab a meal. There’s a French restaurant that just opened a block from here. I heard it’s got great reviews, so take the team there and have them order anything they want. You can just use your card to pay but it’s under the office’s budget.”

“Okay, sir. Uhm, that sounds great,” you manage to say, excitement filling you because you spent the other night watching review videos of that restaurant on YouTube and immediately told Jimin and Soomin that you’ll be eating there when they visit you the next time. “What about you though? Aren’t you joining us?”

“I… Well…”

“You don’t have any other scheduled meeting other than the one we’ll have as a team at 2:30.”

“I don’t have to go,” he answers. “You all worked hard and deserve to enjoy yourselves and I don’t think that’ll happen if I’m around. We can all debrief during the meeting but lunch is your time to get together and bond as a group.”

“You’re part of that group, too, Mr. Jeon. You are our boss,” you counter.

“Exactly.”

“But Mr. Ju–” you stop, not wanting to draw another comparison, which you said you’ll stop doing.

“I know. Hoseok would join you for lunch or dinner and the team enjoyed his presence,” Jungkook states. “I don’t think that’s the case with me. This isn’t me putting myself down but… you know that I don’t really… do things like that. I’m still learning that part of the role and I don’t want to spoil their fun.”

“You can’t really speak for the team though,” you point out.

“Well, you represent them to me. Am I wrong to assume all that?”

“No, but I think it would be a good opportunity to prove to them otherwise,” you advise.

Jungkook sighs, knowing you’ve got a point. But he insists, claiming that he’s still figuring out the team and how to relate with them.

“I understand, Mr. Jeon,” you concede. “How about your lunch?”

“I’ll manage. You can all go ahead so you can get back on time.”

“We will. Thank you. I already know they’re going to enjoy it.”

The team is ecstatic when you tell them about lunch plans. They also only wonder about Jungkook’s presence once they’ve ordered and perhaps they’re still figuring him out, too. Much of their engagement with Jungkook is through meetings, as none of them, save for Manager Lee, feel comfortable or even free enough to just approach him. They also don’t know much about his interests or his quirks, and that puts you in the same boat as them.

You said once that you’re not sure if you’ve gotten used to him already. Maybe slowly you are, as you look around and wish that he was here to experience this, too. Somehow you just think he’d love the duck confit dish that you eventually order for yourself. Maybe you can let him know, and he can order it on his own time.

Lunch ends with everyone on a high from the delicious meal. Even you forget how terrible you’re actually feeling and let the laughs and scrumptious food compensate for the fatigue.

You get back to the office and head to Jungkook as the rest of the team prepares the conference room for the meeting. You see a half-eaten sandwich on his desk and hate to think that it’s all he had while you enjoyed a fancy lunch that he ordered you all to have. He seems to pick up your thoughts as your eyes flit from him to his food and he affirms you that he’s not that hungry, given the heavy breakfast he had this morning.

“How was lunch?” He asks.

“It was great. The food was really good. I had the duck confit that I think you’ll like and… uh, they were asking where you were.”

“They were?”

“Yeah,” you respond. “They were wondering why you didn’t join us.”

“What did you say?”

“That you were on a conference call,” you say. You didn’t like that you had to lie to them about it, but you also didn’t want to use that time to talk about Jungkook behind his back again. “Yohan said that it’s understandable; you’re always busy and he doubts you get a break while you’re here.”

“Oh. Well, he’s not wrong.”

“We had a good time though, and I’m sure they’ll tell you later but thank you. It’s nice seeing the team enjoy themselves. I wish you could see it, too.”

“Maybe one day,” he says sullenly, standing up right after to head to the meeting with you.

The room quiets down when you both arrive and Jungkook feels once more the shift in their disposition once he joins them. He can’t fault them for it knowing that’s because of him, but as time passes and the more he talks about the value of human connections - which the Arts Center aims to foster - the more he starts to think of exactly what he’s missing by keeping himself too far a distance from everyone else around him.

His father tries, he can tell. Most of their breakfast or lunch or dinner meetings aren’t actually meetings, and he supposes it’s just his old man’s way of spending time with him by disguising it as something work-related, knowing that Jungkook wouldn’t be into it if it wasn’t. His mother asks him over to their house on some weekends for lunch, her own way of reconnecting with him after years of being apart, but even with that, Jungkook just gives the bare minimum.

He doesn’t not like them; he just stopped being close to them at some point and he didn’t really care to mend it as he grew older. The women he sleeps with don’t count since he doesn’t even really talk to them, and other than Taehyung and Seokjin, and occasionally Yoongi, who keep up with his attitude, there really isn’t anyone else whom he thinks enjoys his presence enough to want to have him around.

He doesn’t know about you though, but he makes an educated guess and thinks there’s not much of him you’d miss just like anyone, and while the thought stings a bit, it’s one he tries to live with.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee greets and implores the others to do the same. “Thank you again for lunch. It was really delicious and pretty fancy. I wish I’d worn a prettier tie than the one I have right now.”

“Your tie looks fine, Manager Lee,” Jungkook replies.

“Ms. Cho said you were busy, that's why you weren’t there,” Do-hyun boldly says. “Hopefully next time you can join us. I mean, not to assume you’ll treat us again, although that would be nice, but–”

“Do-hyun just wanted to say thank you,” Chin-sun butts in. “And that we understand you have so many things going on, Mr. Jeon, so hopefully, when you have time in the future, you can join us for a meal, too.”

“That, uh, that would be fine, yes,” he mumbles, taking his seat and avoiding looking at everyone except you. “Let’s start the meeting.”

You’re there for over two hours, rehashing the entire process, given that it’s the first event out of many that the team organized. Jungkook is generous in complimenting everyone, including you, and he gives updates on the interest generated and all the artists he’ll be meeting in their respective studios as a result.

The Ministry of Culture minister likewise pledged support, promising a linkage with the international media festival organizers like Jungkook had hoped. You’ve all accomplished so much in so little time, but the rest of the timeline shows that there’s still so much ground to cover. You plan the next steps and then spend half an hour talking about the other small projects that the VP’s office is managing before Jungkook adjourns the meeting and orders you all to head home to get some rest while he stays behind to work some more.

You follow him this time, trying your best to be stable as you take the bus home. You manage to buy some beef bone soup on the way for dinner, and once that’s all finished and you take a long hot shower to hopefully get rid of the stress in your body, you plop down on your bed and fall asleep with no warning at all.

You wake up in the middle of the night, your clogged nose keeping you from breathing. With puffy eyes, you search for your eucalyptus inhaler and take your medicine before going back to bed and hoping that when you wake up, you’ll feel less terrible than you do right now.

But you don’t, as you wake up to your alarm not long after and feel even worse. Your body is sore, your head feels heavy, and it’s a struggle to even turn to your side to try to pull yourself off the bed. Knowing there’s no way you’ll manage today, you call Mr. Ri and inform him that you’re unwell and can’t make it to work.

“I can’t even type nor talk properly right now,” you tell him. “Can you–”

“I’ll tell Jungkook, don’t worry,” he assures you. “And just to remind you, you’re sick, okay? So stay in bed, don’t do chores or anything, and don’t think about work for even a second. You hear me? And update me on how you are.”

“Yes,” you cough out. “Thank you.”

You lie underneath the covers and hope to the heavens that more sleep would make you feel a bit of relief and it does, given that when your phone rings five hours later, you don’t feel like your head is splitting apart.

“Good, you’re awake,” Mr. Ri says on the other end after you greet him. “Can you open your door?”

“Okay, just give me a few minutes. I’m exceptionally slow this morning.”

Mr. Ri laughs but tells you to take your time. You put on a hoodie over your gray sweatpants and briefly wash your face before opening the door.

“Work’s got to you, huh?” He asks worriedly as he stands in front of you. “Is it bad enough to warrant a visit to the hospital? I can drive you there.”

“I’ll manage,” you mumble. “But what are you doing here, Mr. Ri? Mr. Jeon has a meeting in an hour.”

“I know. But he wanted me to give you this.”

The older man initially hands you a large paper bag but decides to just place it on your table given your weak state. He removes the containers of chicken noodle soup, rice porridge, and soybean sprout soup, boxes of soft bread, and a small jar of yuja marmalade for tea.

“What–”

“Your meals for the next few days so you don’t have to worry about preparing them,” Mr. Ri says. “Jungkook wants you to focus on resting. He wants you to take Monday off, too.”

You look at him and suddenly feel like crying. You knew that waking up, you’d be worrying about what to eat, given that you barely have ingredients to work with. You also don’t have the energy to make anything, especially something that’d help with your health. Jungkook just relieved you of that, and at a time like today, you feel what it’s like to be cared for. And though you can argue with him using his own words - your health isn’t his responsibility - you won’t pretend that it doesn’t give you comfort knowing that he’d made the effort to buy all this and have them brought to you.

You talk a little bit more before he heads out, and you lead him to the door where you look across the street where the car is parked. Your eyes may be puffy but you don’t miss the silhouette behind that backseat window.

“How is she?” Jungkook asks as Mr. Ri enters the car and slowly drives away.

“She looks like someone who’s been working hard these past months and in need of rest. She says it’s normal but this is probably the worst. These few days off will be good for her.”

“I hope so, too.”

“She’s thankful for the food, Jungkook,” the older man says. “I know she’d probably say you didn’t have to but I could tell it meant a lot to her. She doesn’t always ask for help, you know? It’s good you’re somehow letting her know that she can count on you when she needs you. If this is you making it up to her, you’re on the right path.”

Jungkook hums in acknowledgement, although unsure what it means for him. Is it to compensate? To apologize again? To return the favor because you’d done it first? Is it to let you know that he has your back, too, the way you’ve been showing him that you have his?

He’s alerted by a message, your name on his screen somehow making his heart jump. It’s a text message and not one from the usual messaging app you both use for work purposes because, well, that’s really the only thing you talk about.

[From: EA Cho] Thank you, Jungkook. I really appreciate it.

It’s the use of his name. It’s the sincerity in your simple words.

He smiles to himself.

Whatever it means to you, he knows it means another thing to him. He doesn’t want you to feel alone. And that in the coldest nooks of his uncaring heart, he actually does care for you. For this moment, he’ll acknowledge it. For this moment, he’ll let himself feel it. He can only hope you feel it, too.

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everlastingserenitys · 2 months ago

Text

I MISSED YOU, SWEETIE

summ. you came home to surprise your father after not seeing him for a while. but you didn’t expect his best friend waiting for you at home.

pairing. sylus x f!reader cw. desk sex, p in v, handjob, fingering, teasinggg, dirty talk, fathers bestfriend!sylus a/n raw I mean aww!

cross-posted from ao3 ;3

It had been a while since you visited your home.

Ever since you left for college, it was difficult to go back after constantly trying to keep your grades at a good level.

But after a bit of time, you finally found time to surprise your family at home.

You drove over to your parents house and made it to the front door. Of course, it was unlocked. Which was good for the surprise, right?

You took a deep breath and slowly opened the door. The second you walked in, the sounds of loud commotion filled the living room. Intrigued, you quietly step towards the commotion and see Sylus?!

Fuck…

The last time you saw Sylus was the day before you left for college. Though he was originally there to hang out with your father, something compelled him to stay extremely close to you that night.

On that night, your father and Sylus went out to get some food for the two of them. You assumed the house was empty. so you did some extra cleaning up and packing in your room.

While you were packing you stumbled across a few pictures of you, sylus, and your father, which were taken years ago. Memories filled your mind and you grazed your finger over Sylus’ face in the photo.

He was handsome, really handsome. The constant teasing and playful banters you two had made you more attached to him.

“Hah...I’m going to miss you, Sylus.” You mumble, staring at the picture of him. A soft thud was then heard behind you. You turned around to the noise and almost fell in embarrassment.

Sylus was leaning against the door, and you did not know how long he was there for, and probably did not want to find out.

Embarrassed, you shove the picture in your pocket and scramble around another box.

“How…I thought you went out to get food?!” You ask in a panic, Sylus chuckled and stepped in your room. You felt his footsteps creep towards you and his large figure suddenly appeared behind you, suffocating you slowly.

“Your father told me to stay since he was only going to get food and come back,” Sylus said.

“Buuutt I just happened to pass by when I heard the words ‘I’ll miss you Sylus’ slip out of someone’s lips.” He teased, his fingers sliding through your hair as he pulled you closer to him.

Your face flushed in embarrassment, or was it because he was way too close to you? You awkwardly fidget your fingers in the random box you happen to place your hands in and keep your breaths at a steady pace.

“What were you looking at?” Sylus asked, his fingers reaching the pockets of your sweatpants. You shrug and he pulls a picture of the three of you standing together, out of your pocket.

“Ah I remember this!” He laughed softly, resting his head on your shoulder as he brought the picture in front of your face.

“Me too, that day was fun.” You chuckle awkwardly, Sylus nods and places the picture on the desk.

“Find some more, will ya?” He asked, planting small kisses along your neck. Your breath hitches at every kiss he planted on you.

You turn your head to him and glare at him with a confused look.

“What are you…?”

“It’s your last day, let’s make some memories, yeah?” Sylus said as his fingers wrap in a possessive manner around your waist. You wince, pleasure filling your whole body. You try to remove his large hands off of you but his grip was too strong.

“Dont pull away, sweetie. I know you want this.” Sylus nipped at your collarbone.

“What?”

“Remember that night you passed out after playing board games with your father and I?” Sylus asked.

You remember that night well, a little too well.

That day you were playing board games with them, you felt extremely fatigued and tried to stay awake but you passed out on the desk when it was your turn.

A few hours after that happened you woke up on your bed, with Sylus reading something next to you. Since you were half asleep you thought he was just reading a book from your bookshelf…but now that you’re thinking about it.

The dots started connecting. The random kisses and teases he was giving you, it was clearly him not reading just a regular book, but instead your notebook.

A whole page in that notebook was dedicated to him, though you made it years ago, you were still adding things on it till this day.

“‘things I want Sylus to do to me’ does that ring a bell?”

“Sylus! My notebook?!” You playfully hit his chest and a mocking groan escaped his lips. He pulled away from you and strutted to your bedside table, grabbing the notebook from the drawer.

“I know I shouldn’t have read it,” he said while opening the book to the page dedicated to him.

“But it’s so hard not to when I’m the one mentioned in it, right?”

“I…” you couldn’t bring yourself to spit out anymore words. You were just in utter shock at the scene unfolding ahead of you.

Sylus’ eyes skimmed through the page and he stepped closer towards you. His body weight pressed against your back and you stumbled against your desk.

“Lets see...” he muttered, his fingers teasing the hem of your shirt as he read the first desire.

A mocking smirk snaked his lips and he leaned in closer, “I want Sylus to kiss me.” He teased, his fingers gliding up on your neck as he put a firm grasp on it, pulling your face closer to his.

Sylus leaned in, planting his soft lips on yours and pushed you harder against the desk. You let out a whine of desperation and slide your tongue deeper in his mouth.

Your tongues intertwine with each other and you felt a wave of need wash through you. Sylus pulled away, breathlessly, his eyes glanced back at the notebook and read the second one.

“I want Sylus to…” his eyes widened and his ruby eyes looked back into yours, “why don’t you finish this one, sweetie?” He grinned, closing up the notebook and throwing it to the side.

“I want Sylus to…um”

“You can do it.”

“Fuck me?” You whisper, a light pink tone flushes your face.

Sylus’ dull eyes glowed in your illuminated room. He grabbed onto your shoulder, flipping you so that you were facing him. His boner poked against your lower abdomen and a groveled groan slipped out of your lips.

Your hips buck forward and grind yourself against his boner. Sylus’ breath hitched and he pushed you away, catching his breath. The feeling of his large fingers gripping on your breast turned you on even more.

You couldn’t believe this was happening.

A desperate, whiny beg escaped your lips and you were practically begging for Sylus to use you already. He let out a nod of acknowledgement, knowing he was in the same state as you.

Sylus slipped a finger under his pants and swiftly took them off, revealing his aching cock on display for you. Your eyes darted from his cock to his eyes and that was the moment you needed him, so bad.

He grinned at your reaction and pressed himself closer to you. He slid off your sweatpants, staring at your laced panties that looked like they were barely on you.

A growl left Sylus’ lips and he rocked his hips back and forth against yours. His hot, wet cock made contact with your dripping cunt through your panties and you kept calling out Sylus’ name.

“Fuck it.” He grunted, slipping your panties off and pressed his leaking tip against your entrance. He barely had put the tip in and you already felt your pussy was going to rip apart from his large length.

Sylus thrusted himself deeper into you, filling you up inch by inch. You desperately rock yourself against him, making the desk you were sitting on shake at every thrust.

“Damn it, what would your father think if he saw this, huh?” Sylus moaned against your ear, you grabbed onto the desk, your nails digging deep in the wood and you let out a whiny answer.

“He wouldn’t! Please! go faster!” Your begs grew louder and Sylus listened to every single one of them. He increased his speed inside you and kissed every inch of you.

“Sylus! ‘m gonna cum!” You bite against his flushed neck, Sylus nodded and pulled away, watching spurs of your white mixture stream out of you.

He licked his lips as he stared at the mess you made on the desk. Sylus still hadn’t cum yet and he grabbed onto your wrist, directing your hand to his hard cock, dripping with pre.

“Finish me off?” He whispered. You let out a shaky sigh and wrap your fingers around his hard length, the feeling of his wet cock coating your fingers made your movements on him increase quicker.

“Yeah…do that, yess” Sylus moaned, grabbing onto his cock with his free hand, your fingers making contact with each other as the both of you stroke his cock in a quick movement.

In one last, lazy stroke, he reached climax and a streak of cum coated both of your fingers. You sigh and rest your head against his shoulder.

The sound of the front door opening was heard and you flinched. Sylus and you quickly put your clothes on as you heard your fathers footsteps creep closer to your bedroom.

After an excruciating five seconds your dad finally made it to your bedroom and saw Sylus there with you.

“Ah, what are you doing here?” Your father asked. Sylus shook his head and made up a believable excuse.

“Alright, let’s go eat then?” Your father offered.

“Okay. See you next time sweetie.” Sylus winked at you and left your bedroom.

That was your final moments with him.

“Sweetie?”

The sound of Sylus’ tender voice interrupted your daze, and you snapped out of your thoughts, shaking your head to see if this was real.

“Sylus?!” You chuckle happily, rushing towards him to give him a hug. He laughed softly, hugging you back.

“You grew up so much, how long has it been? Three years?” Sylus said excitedly, you nod and fight back every urge to just plant kisses all over his face.

Your father interrupted, “why don’t you unpack your things in your room? Sylus, you can help her.”

You look at Sylus with a look, begging for him to say yes. A chuckle escaped his lips and he nodded, lifting you off of him and grabbing your bags, heading to your room.

The two of you headed upstairs and reached your room. You push the doorknob down and push open your door, smelling the nostalgia of it.

You haven’t been in your bedroom in three whole years and the last thing you remembered was—

“Oh, your desk is clean! Remember what happened when I-”

You glare at Sylus with a threatening look and he stops talking, placing your bags on the ground and heading over towards you.

“So…how was college?” He asked, sitting on the bed next to you. You shrug and answer all the questions Sylus had for you.

“Got a boyfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Good” he murmured under his breath. Then a heavy sigh from Sylus filled the room and he glanced around your half empty bedroom.

His eyes peered at the box of photos and you internally cringe when he reached over to it, grabbing the whole box and placing it between the two of you.

“Let’s go through these, c’mere.” He said, sitting against the headboard, as his fingers lightly tapped a short rhythm on his lap.

You instinctively crawl over to his lap, your ass brushed his thigh as you pressed your body weight on his. Sylus let out a groan and wrapped an arm around your waist while picking up a photo from the box.

A Polaroid was picked up from the box and it was a picture from years ago. Sylus smiled against your neck as he talked about the memories of the photo.

And as he was picking up another photo two of them slid between his fingers and one dropped to the floor. He leaned down and picked it up.

A smirk lingered on his lips and his hand around your waist now reached your breast, he fondled your breasts as he planted small kisses along your neck.

“Haha remember this?”

“Fuck.” You mutter, covering your face with your hands.

“Should we recreate this day?” Sylus jokes.

“Please no.”

part 5 of untamed desires | sylus -> next work

#sylus love and deepspace #sylus x reader #sylus smut #sylus #qin che #qin che smut #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x you #sylus fluff #lads fluff #lads smut #lads sylus #needthat

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hanafubukki · 8 months ago

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Hello hello, sorry to barge in suddenly

I love ur content XD especially the family themed with Lilia. #1 Bat dad got me weak in the knees.

I do love to think that Lilia would be OBSESSED with his pregnant wife and unborn child, literally glued to his wife since he found out that she got pregnant and even when the child is born? Man won't let you alone.

What do you think? I love me some family fluff content with this bat dad

Hello Anonie 💞💚💙

Thank you so much 💞☺️ I’m happy that you like my posts. You don’t have to apologize Anonie, I enjoy getting asks.

Lilia with his family is an absolute fave of mine to write about. Him with babies?? *shakes you* my favorite kind of tea.

I was reading a manhwa and remembered this ask because there was this moment that a husband went through for his wife that had me going “Yes! Lilia would have that!!” 😆😎

✨sympathy pregnancy✨ it’s when the expecting partner (and in some rare cases, very close friends) experience the symptoms and behaviors of expectant mothers.

You know I’m just going to take this idea and run with it 🤣🫶

The day you and Lilia find out you’re pregnant is one of joy. It’s not a shock to anyone really. The way he’s practically by your side when he’s not with his boys, Lilia doesn’t hide the fact that he adores you.

He really doesn’t. In fact, Maleficia, herself, was waiting for the day she’d receive a letter about your pregnancy from Malleus. Everyone knew.

It was a good idea that Lilia spent some nights in your dorm.

When you start showing signs of fatigue and nausea, you visit a healer with Lilia by your side. Where you born receive the news. Both of you are over the moon, but Lilia looks ready to actually jump as high as the moon.

Your pregnancy comes with a few hiccups. Nausea in the morning. Fatigue. Appetite changes. Aches. It wasn’t easy for you once your pregnancy symptoms kicked in.

Throughout all this, Lilia was by your side. Helping you the best he could. If he wasn’t by your side, one of the boys was.

After a hard day of symptoms, of which Mrs. Zigvolt stated was normal for someone having a half fae and half human baby, Lilia couldn’t help but feel guilty. You’re human after all, it would be harder for you to deal with this baby. He wished he could help you.

The next few days, surprisingly, you felt better? You could eat more. Your body aches lowered and your fatigue practically disappeared.

But you noticed Lilia…seemed a little off. He tried to hide it but you knew his tics by now. When he suddenly got nauseous one day, you asked Malleus to call the healer.

The healer merely announced Lilia suffering from sympathy pregnancy. Rare amongst human and fae kind, but not unheard of. Eventually, it would pass.

You felt bad for Lilia but his boys on the other had:

“The dedication Lord Lilia serves is an example for us all!”

“Father will need medication to handle his symptoms.”

“How supportive you are, Lilia. Maybe I should ask the royal scriptors to write about your romantic tales.”

You knew If he wasn’t so nauseated, Lilia would be berating them.

Even after the revelation, Lilia was determined to stay by your side. Content that you were feeling well and full of energy.

He became the talk of town, but nothing he didn’t handle with pride and quips.

As time went on, the symptoms mellowed out. Soon, a new member of the family joined. Healthy and already loved more than the number of stars in the sky.

This kind of got away from me lol 😆 it’s been awhile since I’ve been this chaotic with an ask, especially for Lilia, so I hope you enjoyed. 🫶💞

You could probably see where I ran out of steam lol

The manhwa that inspired this is “I Failed to Divorce my Husband.”

#lilia vanrouge #answered #anonie ask #twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x you #twst lilia #twst lilia vanrouge x reader #diasomnia

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skyguytoast · 1 month ago

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HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN X COSPLAYER!READER - PART THREE

SYNOPSIS: Hayden helps you craft your new cosplay.

WARNING: none, just fluff

WORDS: 1.4k

A/N: as always i open for request, don’t be shy…anyway, comments, reblogs are appreciated. kisses and good reading 🥰🤩

It hadn’t taken long for Hayden to realize that dating a cosplayer was... well, an adventure.

He’d wake up to the hum of your sewing machine instead of the coffee pot, catching you cross-legged on the floor, stitching layer after layer of a pleated skirt like it was a sacred ritual. He’d go for a quick morning run and come back to find you painted head-to-toe in green, or blue, or whatever shade your latest project required—half-dressed, paintbrush between your teeth, mumbling about "undertones" and "screen accuracy."

It was chaos. But it was your chaos.

Even when his favorite hoodie ended up smeared with streaks of body paint, Hayden never got mad. He just laughed, tugged it over his head, and tossed it in the laundry with a fond, “Remind me again what character is green this time?”

What really struck him was how dedicated you were. For all the long hours he’d spent on film sets, learning lines and fighting off the fatigue that came with ten-hour days, he couldn’t imagine how you handled whole weekends in full costume—posing for pictures, performing in-character nonstop, barely breaking for water.

You made it look effortless.

And, truthfully, Hayden loved helping you. Whether it was running lines when you cosplayed Padmé or practicing stances with you in the backyard because “Ahsoka would never stand like that,” he was all in.

This time, it was Bo-Katan.

Which explained why he was currently in the living room, carefully wrapping loop after loop of duct tape around your torso while you stood on a stool in leggings and an old tank top.

“Are you sure it’s not too tight, babe?” he asked, brow furrowed with concern. The tape was cinched snugly around your waist and chest, and he was suddenly aware of how hard it must be to breathe.

“That’s the goal, love,” you said with a soft laugh. “It has to be skin-tight so the mold’s accurate.”

Hayden made a small, worried face, like he wasn’t entirely convinced this was necessary but would do anything you asked anyway. “Alright. But if you pass out on me, I’m blaming the Mandalorians.”

You giggled, and that sound was all it took to ease the tightness in his chest. He kept going, wrapping layer after layer, occasionally pausing to ask if you were okay, if anything pinched, if he should slow down. Every few minutes, his fingers brushed your side a little too gently for someone supposedly “taping armor.”

“Okay,” you finally said, once the last piece was smoothed flat. “Time to cut it off.”

Hayden nodded, reaching for the scissors with exaggerated caution. His movements were slow and deliberate, his tongue poking out in concentration. He really didn’t want to mess this up.

“Just cut along the sides,” you coached softly. “And go slow, so you don’t ruin the chest section.”

“I got it, I got it,” he murmured, even as his hands trembled slightly.

Once the mold peeled away from your body in a neat, clean shape, you held it up, turning it in your hands, a smile lighting up your face.

“It turned out amazing,” you beamed, looking down at Hayden with so much affection it made his heart ache.

He looked up at you, eyes wide, cheeks a little pink. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “You killed it.”

His smile bloomed, that shy, boyish grin that made you melt every time. “So… what’s next?” he asked, already scooting closer to you, clearly ready to take on whatever crazy crafting task came next if it meant spending a few more hours like this—with you, in your element, happy.

You reached down, brushing his hair back gently from his face. “Next is tracing the pattern onto foam. Wanna help?”

Hayden didn’t even hesitate. “Only if I get to wear the helmet when it’s done.”

You laughed. “Deal. But no promises you’ll look as good as me.”

He grinned. “Never doubted that for a second.”

And just like that, you got back to work, Hayden kneeling faithfully at your side, his sleeves pushed up as he watched you trace the armor pattern onto foam like it was an ancient craft passed down through generations.

Your focus was so absolutely—tongue sticking out, brow furrowed, brush in hand as you layered glue and paper mache over the base. You were deep in it, completely lost in the rhythm, when suddenly a plate slid into view in front of your face.

A perfectly cut triangle sandwich. Neatly chopped apples on the side.

Your stomach growled like a starved creature.

“When did you leave?” you blinked, genuinely surprised as you set the brush down with a soft thunk. You turned to find Hayden already settling in next to you again, casual and smug.

“You were too busy crafting your beskar masterpiece,” he said with a knowing smile, one brow arched. “So I figured I’d sneak off and make you something before you fully forgot you’re a living being who needs food.”

Your expression softened into a sheepish smile as you picked up the sandwich, holding it with two hands like a kid. “Thank you, love,” you mumbled between bites. “I guess I got carried away. Again.”

Hayden leaned back on his hands, watching you with amused affection as you chewed. “It’s okay. That’s why I’m here. To remind you that cosplay doesn’t count as actual nutrition.”

You let out a quiet laugh, nudging his knee with your foot. “That line absolutely belongs on a sticker.”

He shrugged. “I’ll pitch it to Etsy.”

After a moment, he reached over to pull you gently against him, arm looping around your waist as you leaned your head on his shoulder, still munching on your sandwich. His other hand brushed over the foam armor pieces laid out across the floor, careful not to smudge your work.

“Almost done?” he asked softly, glancing down at the pile of supplies, the bits of duct tape still sticking to the floor.

You sighed contentedly. “Not even close. I’m just finishing the structure. It needs to dry for at least a couple days before we move on to sanding and painting and sealing and—” You stopped yourself, laughing. “Basically, no. But I’m getting there.”

Hayden kissed the top of your head and smiled into your hair. “Then I guess we have a few more cozy craft nights ahead of us.”

“Mm,” you hummed, wrapping your fingers around his hand, squeezing gently. “As long as there’s more of your sandwiches, I think I’ll survive.”

“Don’t worry, darling, I plan to take such good care of my girlfriend,” Hayden promised, smiling at you like you were the only thing in the galaxy that mattered.

You felt it — the weight of that smile. That quiet, steady kind of love that didn’t need grand gestures or a red carpet, just little things. Like triangle sandwiches. And apples. And duct tape armor.

You leaned into him, your cheek resting against his shoulder as his thumb traced lazy, soothing circles against the curve of your waist.

“I think you already do,” you whispered.

He turned his head to press a kiss to your temple, the kind of kiss that lingered—his lips soft and warm, his breath a hush against your skin. “Good,” he murmured, “but I still plan to outdo myself.”

You laughed quietly, letting your eyes flutter closed for a moment. Around you, the living room was a beautiful disaster of glue sticks, foam scraps, reference photos, and love. It didn’t matter that you weren’t even halfway done with the armor. It didn’t matter that your fingers were sticky, or that Hayden had somehow managed to get duct tape stuck to his sock.

What mattered was this.

Him. Here. Now.

“Once Bo-Katan’s finished,” Hayden said softly, “I think you should take her out into the world. To a con. In full armor. Helmet and all.”

You blinked up at him, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “And I’ll be right there with you. Front row. Taking pictures. Holding your helmet when you need a break. Carrying your bag like a doting little roadie.”

You giggled, your heart swelling. “You’d really go?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” he said, pressing another kiss just behind your ear. “And since I help bring this cosplay to life, it'd be awkward if I didn’t.”

That made you laugh again—full and bright and real—and Hayden grinned, looking completely smitten.

“Besides,” he added, resting his forehead gently against yours, “you make saving the galaxy look really, really good.”

''I learned from the best'' You smiled so hard your cheeks hurt. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he whispered. “Now and always.”

And as the stars blinked outside your window and the armor dried in the corner, you let yourself believe it fully, completely, without question.

You were safe. You were loved. And you had Hayden as your crafting partner, your biggest fan, and the softest space to fall.

Not a bad deal at all.

TAG LIST: @ihearthayden @anakinstwinklebunny @sometimescharlolette @awhhayden @dessxoxsworld @throughparisallthroughrome

#hayden christensen #star wars #hayden christensen headcanon #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen fanfiction #amazing hayden christensen #Hayden Christensen

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

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How JJK men act when you have insomnia (can't sleep)

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader; Toge x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader (special thanks to @belovedvamp for that jaw-dropping gorgeous Megumi requests, like wow)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: nightmares, angst to comfort in everyone, I would like to point out that Megumi is my favorite part and that I'm thinking about doing a Part 2, so if you're invested definetely let me know 😭not 100% proofread yet

Gojo Satoru

„Huh, why are you still awake babe? Aren’t you tired?”

Satoru takes in your gorgeous sight, how you lay curled up in your shared bed with your sleepy eyes darted towards him. God, why do you have to be so stunning, why does the selfish urge to keep you awake a little longer become almost unbearable for him when he knows exactly why you’re unable to sleep?

The mattress gives in under your boyfriend’s weight next to you, his hand gently caressing your head. You feel drunk, as if your body doesn’t function properly anymore. No wonder, after all you were awake for more than 30 hours by now, fighting and fighting to finally exorcise a bunch of special grade curses while Satoru was busy somewhere else.

But you’re scared to close your eyes again, to get confronted with the horrible things you’ve saw today. After each and every mission, your brain haunts you with awful nightmares, reminds you of all the death, all the injured, all the things you’ve lost.

No, you just can’t take it. You’d rather stay up a little longer in desperate hopes to be spared than risking to have another bad dream.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it”, you mumble into your heavy blanket, eyes drifting to the window.

It began to rain, heavy droplets pounding against the glass violently, thunder erupting in the dark sky. Carefully, Satoru lays down beside you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist.

“I know you’re lying”, he mutters against your sensitive neck.

“Is it because of your nightmares?”

You turn around to face him in utter surprise. When did you ever told him about those nightmares? You always kept them to yourself, suffered through them on your own. After all, Satoru is a very busy man who shouldn’t have to worry about something like a bad dream. Yes, it seems pretty ridiculous to whine about your nightmares when the strongest of them all is the one you’re talking to.

“Don’t worry about that, I’m fine”, you lie into his face, gifting him a small smile to convince him.

But your eyes don’t lie. They show nothing but terror and dread, nothing but fatigue and alertness at the same time. Suddenly Satoru’s heart feels heavy. He should have realized it sooner, the way you always go to sleep after him when you were out on a mission. Why did it never cross his mind that all of this might be too much for you? Maybe because you’re so damn strong, maybe because you make it look so damn easy every time, carrying the weight of all those missions so that his students don’t suffer.

“It makes no sense to lie to me. Why didn’t you tell me about it, babe? I’m sure Shoko might be able to help you-“

“There’s nothing anyone could do about this”, you interrupt him immediately.

“Trust me, I tried everything out there. I guess this is just how my brain tries to cope with all those things, the people dying and stuff…”

“But you don’t have to go through this alone. We’re a team, remember? Why don’t you wake me up whenever you feel upset? Why do you go to sleep after I’m already passed out? (y/n), don’t do this to yourself.”

Gently, he cups your cheek with his hand, forcing you to look up at him. Oh, how much you hate that familiar feeling. That feeling of being useless, of being weak. Are you really too frail to even sleep after a mission? Why aren’t you able to handle the things you see like the others, like Kento and Satoru? All that training, all that power just to cry in your sleep over the things that happened hours ago.

Truly pathetic.

“Do you really think you’re alone? Especially in the beginning, Kento was plagued by nightmares each and every night so much that he couldn’t even fall asleep. Suguru and I…it is always rough, remembering the faces of those you weren’t able to save. But don’t let them keep you awake, don’t think you have to simply endure this. I’m here each and every night to hold you, okay? I’m here, you’re not alone (y/n).”

Oh Satoru.

Without thinking twice, you turn around and intertwine your body with his, desperately trying to keep your composure. How do you even deserve a man like him? A man who seems goofy most of the time but hast the softest side, a man who cares more about everyone around him than himself.

Your boyfriend, the strongest with a heart of pure gold.

“I hate when they haunt me in my sleep”, you finally give in, hiding your face against his warm chest.

“I know, babe. Trust me, we all do.”

Ever so gently, he strokes your hair and back, embraces you in his very own warmth. Satoru feels like home, like the perfection you are chasing each and every day. What would you even do without his loving arms as your home? Where would you be without his constant support? All those nights he stood by your side, watched a awful romantic movie so you’d feel good again. The countless times he cooked your favourite meal for you, only to throw it away and order food afterwards. All those times he rushed to your side when you got injured, how he always manages to be right by your side when you wake up. And oh, how tender is touch feels against your skin, how his warmth embraces you with every inch of his body. He feels so good, so comforting…

Satoru watches with a small smile as your lids grow heavy and finally close, your breath leaving your mouth evenly.

“As long as I’m the one holding you, no nightmare in the world will dare to wake you up, babe”, he breathes against your ear, holding you tightly in his arms throughout the whole night.

Inumaki Toge

You stare at the full moon blankly, mind racing. How are you supposed to get out of this alive? Are you even strong enough to lead your very own mission without someone by your side? This will be the first time you’ll be completely on your own. Without Maki, without Panda, without Toge…You trained hard these last months, you know what you’re capable of. But still…

Is it enough?

“Kelp.”

His tender voice rips you out of your poisonous thoughts immediately, glossy eyes shooting up to take in his sight. Why does he have to look so delicate with the moonlight highlighting his features? Why does his mouth have to be so damn captivating?

Why is it so easy to fall hopelessly in love with Toge Inumaki?

“Sorry, I thought y’all were asleep”, you explain visibly uncomfortably.

How embarrassing, getting caught by your crush while silently crying into the night about a damn mission. A silent yawning escapes your lips before you can stop it, tired eyes covered by a curtain of tears. God, you are so tired.

“Salmon roe.”

Before you even comprehend what’s happening, the white-haired boy takes his hand into yours gently, staring at you so intensely that you forget how to breathe for a moment. It’s like he wants to tell you that everything will be alright, that you have nothing to worry about.

“I don’t think I can do this alone, Toge. I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this…”, you finally give in.

“Bonito flakes”, he immediately replies.

Without thinking twice, he takes out a small notepad and begins to write frantically. You know he always carries a writing block with him for time that require more than a few words, more than gestures are able to say.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, you worked hard these last weeks. And you’re great! Just do as good as you always do, I’m counting on you, (y/n)! Please try to get some sleep now :)”

With every word you read your heart beats a little faster, with every word your grin grows a little wider. If he only knew how much his words truly mean to you…

“So you really think I can do it on my own?”, you question.

“Salmon!”

“Thank you, Toge”, you mutter touched.

You don’t know why, but suddenly your eyes start to burn in tears. Toge holds nothing but affection in his gaze, hand still resting on yours while squeezing it ever so slightly. He truly believes in you and your abilities, shows no doubt in your save return. Maybe…maybe you’re actually able to do this. Maybe you are indeed ready for your first solo mission.

Toge stands up again, signalling you with a gentle squeeze to stand up as well. You follow him through the dark hallways of Jujutsu High, right into the dorm you know so well.

“Tuna”, he whispers into the night before pressing you against his warm chest.

You feel as light as a feather, too stunned to speak by the way his arms feel wrapped around your body. He smells intoxicating, so good that you can’t help but sniff in and out. Is this really the first time Toge Inumaki hugged you for more than 10 seconds? It definitely is hard to let him go again.

“I believe in you, (y/n).”

Did he…Did he just speak?

“Toge…”, you breathe out, watching as his smile grows even wider.

With a last wave, he is gone in the darkness of the night, leaving you standing in the middle of your room on your own with your feelings scattered all over the place. Toge Inumaki just hugged you. No, Toge INumaki just spoke. He told you that he believes in you.

“How am I supposed to sleep now?”, you mumble to yourself.

Fushiguro Megumi

Your eyes snap open in an instant, ice cold sweat running down your face. Where are you? Is it over? You…

You breathe out. It was a nightmare. Again.

“Fuck”, you hiss to yourself while rubbing your aching head.

Why do you have to get haunted by these horrible nightmares, when will it finally stop? Even Gojo-sensei seems to be clueless about your condition, about what keeps you up each and every night.

But you know something that will help you to get through this night. Or rather someone.

Your bare feet stick to the wooden floor ever so slightly while you wander through the dark hallways on your way to his doorstep. Is he even awake? Maybe he won’t open the door at all.

Little do you know that Megumi sits in his bed with his eyes wide open, staring at the door knob in sheer excitement for your return into his arms. He knows it doesn’t mean much to you and at the beginning, it didn’t mean anything to him either. You just came into his room from time to time, searching for comfort in his hug to chase your nightmares away. And since you were friends, Megumi had nothing against stroking your head gently and wrapping his arms around you.

But something seems different now. Something about the sensation of you visiting him late at night sends shivers down his spine, your moonlit features let his heart hammer against his ribcage. It’s like he wants to hold you even closer, wants your breath to brush against his face. Why does it dawn to him how delicate your curves look and how soft your hair feels? There is no use in denying it, no sense in fighting against the obvious.

Megumi Fushiguro has fallen hopelessly in love with you.

The knocks against his wooden floor send him to his door straight away, opening it before you’re able to think twice.

“Oh, I didn’t knew you were still awake, Fushiguro”, you mutter into the darkness.

God, how much he hates the fact that you always call him by his last name. What would he give to hear his name out of your mouth once?

“What do you want here, (y/n)?”

His voice sounds harsher than anticipated while it takes all his strength to not swallow you in his arms immediately.

“I had a bad dream again…”

The vulnerable tone of your voice kills him from the inside. Without saying another word, he steps aside, allows you to enter his dorm without hesitation. You position yourself on the left side of his bed like you always do, hiding yourself in his already warm sheets. Without hesitation, he crawls back into his bed, inviting you into his arms with a long breath.

You smell as good as you always do. Why did it take him so long to realize that you smell absolutely intoxicating, that the mixture of your shampoo, body scent and perfume is addictive? Maybe he should tell you about the way he feels, finally confess how you make his heart beat out of his chest. But how would you react?

Would you…reject him? For all these years of knowing each other, you were never more than friends. Good buddies, pals, but not more than that. None of you ever crossed the line of plain cuddling each other to sleep. Not once did your lips brush over his, not once did your hands move further than his chest. Would you even love him back?

“Come on, you have to have a crush (y/n)! Is it Chris Pine, Tom Holland? Are you more into Korean guys?”, Nobara inquired over and over.

You just rolled your eyes with a playful grin, almost making Megumi fall out of his chair next to Yuji.

“I don’t have a crush on anyone. I’m perfectly fine by myself”, you insisted.

“I like tall woman with a big ass”, Yuji interrupted out of nowhere, gaining a punch in his face by Nobara.

That was it, the first time he noticed something strange. The way his heart suddenly grew heavier than metal, sunk into his chest, took his breath away. He was hurt by your words. Megumi Fushiguro was hurt by the stinging fact that you didn’t say his name like he secretly hoped for, that your eyes didn’t even flinch towards him for the split of a second.

“Hey, are you alright? Why did you tense up like that?”, you mutter against his chest while drawing circles onto his t-shirt with your delicate fingertip.

“Oh, it’s nothing for you to worry about”, he lies into this tender night.

He presses you against his own body a little tighter, watches how your eyes grow heavy with every passing minute that you listen to his steady heartbeat. This shouldn’t mean more to him than comforting an old friend, it shouldn’t make his heart flutter and palms sweaty. But the soft snores leaving your mouth sound oh so lovely, the way your eyes move behind closed lids makes his heart skip a beat. You have to be the most precious creature on this earth, so valuable that he never wants to let you go again.

Until he has in the morning. Until you return back into his arms when nightmares keep you up another night.

Thank you so much for reading! Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul@chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @aeliusbbg

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larissasgirl · 10 months ago

Note

Can I request some HEAVY fluff with regina where reader have a terrible period (cramps, heavy flow, fatigue, always hungry, and just constant sobbing. Yes I'm on my period and I hate everything (except your writing)) (i love your writing)

You can always call me

Helllooo! Better late than never👉👈 Once again, sorry for the mistakes. As my friend would say, I'm just a girl😂 Hope you like it🥺

Saying you were in a bad mood was an understatement. Truth to be told, you weren’t angry per say, but rather in pain. In so much pain that it would knock the wind out of your lungs as you waited for the waves to pass. You had always been truly lucky in that department, as you could go months without feeling any discomfort. But when it happened, when it would be the exception, it would make up for the ones that were pain free. It made it almost impossible for you to function normally.

You had woken up after your girlfriend, as you reached next to you for Regina, only to find her side of the bed cold and empty. You knew she was under a lot of pressure lately, always going to work before you were even up and coming back at crazy hours of the night. You sighed as you started feeling the familiar wave of pain slowly creeping its way back to you when you got up and got dressed, only for it to grow in intensity as the day progressed. You had contemplated calling in sick, but you knew how hard it was to find a substitute at the last minute, and you truly didn’t have the energy to make up a lesson plan for the day to give it to them. You were working with Mary Margaret at the elementary school, which happened to be the perfect job for you. Regina would often roll her eyes and call you a child, but you could always see through her fake annoyance whenever she said it. She adored you. She adored the way you would often come home with messy braids done by your students during recess and your arms full of drawings, with I love you’s written in messy handwritings and mistakes, which she knew made your heart a little lighter. She loved how happy the tiny humans made you, how you’d often randomly get an idea of an activity during dinner and shared it with her excitedly, wanting her opinion on it. She loved the way you cared so much, not only for them, but for everyone around you. You were a breath of fresh air when she thought she was meant to be alone for the rest of her life, and she absolutely adored everything about you.

But today, you were completely drained, and you knew even though you were in pain, your kids would still be full of energy. In times like these, you would curse in every language you knew in your head, to be sure that the tiny humans wouldn’t hear, of course. You had managed to push though the morning by sitting down as much as you could, the medication you had taken after waking up slowly losing its effect. You were so thankful when the bell rang for lunch as the kids all rushed to the cafeteria, finally letting your head drop on your arms. You felt like you couldn’t move from your desk, the pain becoming unbearable by the minute.

“Hey, Y/N, do you think I can borrow a…” Mary Margaret, as her usual cheerful self, had just stormed in your classroom, looking to borrow something from you as she did every day. She was always a bit distracted and often misplaced her belongings, and you would usually just shake your head smiling before lending her your pen, your sharpener, or even your paper trimmer. “Are you alright?” she had stopped in her tracks when she had noticed your posture, and you slowly raised your head before you forced a smile on your face.

“I’m just in a little pain, but it will pass,” you shrugged it off as if you hadn’t wished to disappear into the ground over and over again just seconds before. You forced yourself to get up from your chair, leaning on your desk with both hands as a wave of dizziness suddenly washed over you. It wasn’t uncommon that the pain would lead to you to be physically sick, getting too much for your body to cope. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be in front of Mary Margaret and at your desk.

“Are you sure? You’re as white as a ghost,” she rushed to your side when she noticed your struggling, grabbing your forearms and helping you sitting down once again.

“It’s just my stupid period, I’m not the first neither the last,” you mumbled before reaching for your bag under your desk, attempting to find your medication in the mess you had made when you packed it up this morning.

“I think you should go home, Y/N. You’re clearly in pain,” you missed the way her brows furrowed when another wave of pain rushed over you, a small whimper leaving your lips.

“It’s too complicated. Besides, the day is almost over” you sighed, before finally finding what you were looking for in your bag, as you grabbed your water bottle to swallow the pill, hoping it would take effect quickly.

“If by almost over, you mean the hour that will be the lunch break plus the entire afternoon, you’re clearly not thinking straight. Come on, get your things and I’ll take care of everything,” she argued, her hands on her hips, her brown eyes defying you to refuse. With a sigh and no strength to fight back, you started grabbing your things on your desk, missing the way she quickly pulled out her phone from her pockets before typing something and putting it back there before helping you to get your belongings.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry,” you whispered the last part, ashamed of yourself for leaving work before the end of the day knowing she had to cover for you.

“Don’t be sorry, I’d rather have you back feeling better so I can keep borrowing your things. Nobody else will let me,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood, which seemed to work as it made you smile a little before guiding you to the school’s front doors. She held it open for you, pointing at the black Mercedes that was parked right in front of you. It took you a second to recognize it, even though it seemed oddly familiar, the sun blinding you momentarily.

“Did you seriously called Regina?” your eyes widened, feeling a headache forming behind your eyelids. You rubbed them off with your fists like a child, not caring about the mascara you had quickly put on earlier, which made Mary Margaret beam at you when some fell under your eyes, completely obnoxious of the anxiety raising inside of you. She waved at Regina who was walking towards you with her lips pressed together, an indication she was not happy. You were in trouble big time.

“I didn’t called, I texted her. See you later!” she turned on her heels and walked back into the school before you could answer back. You now understood a little better why Regina was aiming for her head back in the Enchanted Forest. You turned your gaze back to your girlfriend, who grabbed your bag from your shoulder, noticing the way her jaw was clenched, her eyes boring into yours with an expression you only took for anger even though her movements were nothing but gentle.

“I’m so sorry Regina, I didn’t know she would bother you at work,” you hesitated, looking at your feet, not daring to meet her eyes. It seemed so silly to pull her out of her office when you knew she was so busy simply because you had your period.

She grabbed your chin with her hand, her thumb slowly brushing circles on your cheek as she forced you to meet her eyes. They were much softer now, almost glossy, and you realized that what you had mistaken for irritation was worry.

“You never bother me,” she pulled you close to her, holding you the closest she possibly could, your face finding its usual spot in her neck. You breathed in her scent, your shoulders dropping as the anxiety left your body before wrapping your arms around her waist as tightly as you could. “I want you to call me when you’re in pain,” she whispered into your hair, swinging you lightly from side to side. “I want to be there for you, Y/N,” she pulled back to look at your face, but keeping you close to her, your eyes flooded with tears as she gently brushed away the ones that managed to escape. “You always come first. Please, never hesitate to call me.”

You were sure your knees would give in if she wasn’t holding you close to her, the love and worry filling her beautiful brown eyes making a new wave of tears escaping your owns. You simply nodded as she softly grabbed your hand, not before wiping the tears from your cheeks once again and kissing it when she was done. The way she would drop her stubborn, sarcastic attitude and become so caring, so gentle with you, even though you were in public, and no matter who watched never ceased to amaze you. It almost made you sob. “Let’s go home now, shall we?”

She led you to the passenger’s side of her car and opened the door for you, as you sat down with another wave of pain stealing your breath away. She noticed immediately, being familiar with your often painful episodes from the year you’d been together, and gently kissed your forehead before closing the door and making her way to the other side, sitting down behind the wheel and driving off right away. “We’ll be home soon, and then I can put warm water to heat for the bag and make you tea. Deal?” she briefly looked at you to make sure you had heard her before returning her attention on the road, seeing you nod in the corner of her yes.

“And we can cuddle?” you whispered, so quietly that she almost didn’t hear it.

Regina smiled widely and glanced at you again, pulling a hand just above your knee, rubbing your skin softly with her thumb. “Yes darling, we can cuddle,” she laughed, making you blush at the nickname, and also because you knew it meant she had taken the rest of the day off to spend it with you. It made your heart swell with love for the woman sitting next to you, not taking your eyes off her for the duration of the drive.

It appeared to be much faster than usual, even though you didn’t lived too far from the school. You blamed it on your fuzzy brain and on your lack of concentration, being too busy staring at your girlfriend, not knowing Regina had sped up a little, hating to see you hurting so much and wanting to take care of you as soon as possible. She helped you to get out of the car and argued with you over carrying your bag inside, before you finally gave in and let her do it. She opened the door and you went in, letting yourself fall on the couch with a sight. You closed your eyes and tried to take deep breaths, hence why you didn’t noticed when your girlfriend wrapped your shoulders with your favorite blanket that had little brown bears that you absolutely adored and that she hated, stating it was made for children and that she wasn’t one. It made you giggle a bit when you peeked through your heavy eyelids to see what she had wrapped you in with, only to notice she wasn’t next to you anymore.

“And what are you laughing at exactly?” she questioned from the kitchen, leaning in the doorframe to get a better look at you. You figured she had put water to boil as you noticed the empty water bag in her hand, your eyes softening even more at the sight in front of you.

“You gave me your favorite blanket,” your mouth was curved into a soft smile, hinting that you were finding it utterly adorable and were simply teasing her a little.

She rolled her eyes but smirked at you, happy to see you almost back to normal, turning her attention back to the kettle, the high pitching noise indicating the water was hot. She carefully filled the water bag and screw the lid shut as tight as she could, as the last thing she wanted to do was to burn you. Then, she reached for the tea box and quickly filled a cup with water before making her way back to you, setting the fuming mug on the living room’s small table and handing you the now warm water bag. She sat next to you, her leg touching yours, and studied your face carefully for any signs of discomfort. She was relieved to see the colors returning to your face slowly, having also noticed that you were paler than usual when she had picked you up.

“Thank you, Gina,” you smiled gratefully at her, the warmth seeming to help with the pain almost instantly, and the medication from earlier having probably kicked in too, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. “Lie down with me?” you battled your eyelashes and gave her a little pout when she unwrapped the blanket from your shoulders, feeling cold immediately. She kissed your lips gently before laying down on the couch, pulling you down with her, being careful to leave enough space for you to place the water bag. She draped the blanket on you both this time, which almost made you want to tease her again for being wrapped in the blanket she seemed to hate so much. You immediately wrapped your arms around her after making sure the bag would hold itself in place between you two, nuzzling your face in her neck and placing a kiss that made her shiver. She felt your lips curl into a smile again her skin at her reaction, holding you tighter than before.

“Thank you for everything. I love you, Gina” you mumbled, feeling exhausted from the pain that seemed to temporarily have given you a break.

“I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll always take care of you,” her nails tracing your back made it hard to stay awake, feeling more than content wrapped safely in your girlfriend’s arms. “Close your pretty eyes, I’ll still be there when you wake up,” she whispered, placing a kiss on the top of your head. And you did, knowing that no matter what happened, you’d always be safe with Regina by your side.

#regina mills x reader #x reader

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whosscruffylooking · 2 months ago

Text

The Purest Things: Stars & Midnight Blue

Aaron Hotchner x Fem! Reader Word Count: 3.6k Warnings: Murder. Blood. Death. Weapons. Canon typical violence. Everything that makes Criminal Minds, Criminal Minds. a/n: my heart broke a little. The Purest Things Masterlist

au! October 2009

Bookend: "You have lost yourself in dreaming. I have lost myself in you. Now we lie beneath the sky. Stars and midnight blue." -Enya

The next few months pass in a relentless haze—days consumed by cases, nights swallowed by the hunt for Foyet. You and the team, but mostly you and Hotch, stretch yourselves thin, existing on the barest minimum of sleep. The world outside the office blurs, reduced to crime scene photos, timelines, maps covered in red ink—always searching, always just behind him.

Tonight is no different.

The conference room is dimly lit, the glow of desk lamps casting long shadows over the endless array of notes and charts pinned to the walls. The air is thick with exhaustion, with frustration. You run a hand through your hair, staring at the whiteboard filled with Foyet’s movements—if you can even call them that. The bastard moves like a ghost, slipping through cracks before you can ever fully grasp him.

Your grip tightens around the dry-erase marker. And then, with a sharp exhale, you hurl it at the board. It bounces off, landing on the table with a dull thud.

From across the room, Hotch looks up from his notes. “You okay?”

“I hate him so much.”

The words come out raw, almost quivering. The frustration, the helplessness, the sheer rage of knowing that Jack and Haley are still out there, still living in the shadows because of him.

You press your palms against your temples, fighting back the emotion clawing at your throat.

You barely register the sound of his chair scraping back before he’s in front of you, kneeling down, close enough that his warmth settles over you like an anchor.

“You’ve been working yourself into the ground,” he says, voice softer than you expected. “Take a break.”

You shake your head, inhaling sharply. “I can’t.” Your hands tighten into fists in your lap. “I can’t let them stay there any longer.”

Hotch remains silent at first, his chestnut eyes probing yours. Yet, after spending enough time with him, you can sense the apprehension beneath his quietude—the way his fingers dig slightly deeper into the arm of your chair, as if he’s battling the impulse to reach out and bridge the distance between you.

“You think I don't feel the same way?” His voice is soft yet laced with an unmistakable intensity, a gravity that compels you to meet his gaze completely.

You do. You know he does. But the difference is he buries it better.

“Then why are you telling me to stop?” you counter.

“I’m not.” He exhales through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “I’m telling you to breathe.”

Something within you falters.

It’s the way he expresses it—not as a command or an order from your superior, but as something entirely different.

Aaron.

Not Hotch.

You press the heels of your palms against your eyes, trying to suppress the emotion, to bury it deep and maintain your focus. But then his hand finds yours, gently pulling them away from your face.

The touch is delicate, almost ethereal, yet it sends a jolt through you.

“You can’t carry this alone,” he murmurs.

You almost laugh. “I’m not. You’re right here with me.”

He knows what you mean. You’re in this together. The late nights, the exhaustion, the shared burden of pursuing the man who shattered his life. Neither of you can let go of this case, not while Jack and Haley’s lives hang in the balance.

His thumb grazes your knuckles, a subtle gesture, yet it anchors you to the moment. To him.

For the first time in months, you feel something beyond anger and fatigue.

You feel him.

And then you realize just how close he is.

The office is silent, save for the faint hum of the overhead lights. The warmth of his breath brushes against your skin, and you suddenly become acutely aware of the space between you—or the lack thereof.

If either of you moved even an inch—

You don’t move.

Neither does he.

You remain there, ensnared in a tension you no longer have the strength to resist. His gaze flickers downward—to your lips, just for a fleeting moment—before snapping back up.

Your breath catches.

And for an instant, you swear he’s about to close the distance.

But just as quickly as it began, the moment dissipates.

Hotch pulls back. The warmth of his presence fades as he stands, rolling his shoulders as if trying to shake off an invisible weight.

“You should get some rest,” he says, his voice returning to its usual steady tone, as if nothing just happened.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to nod. “You too.”

He doesn’t respond. He lingers for a moment longer, as if something still hangs between you—something unfinished.

But then he steps away, retreating toward the table, toward the case, toward anything that isn’t this.

You remain frozen in your chair, your hands still resting in your lap where his had been only moments ago. Your pulse races, your skin still warm from his touch, and no matter how hard you try to refocus on the case, you can’t.

Because for one brief, impossible second, Aaron Hotchner almost kissed you.

And worse—you wanted him to.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

The next day, the air between you and Hotch feels altered. He remains himself—composed, measured—but there’s a hesitation in the way he gazes at you, a moment too long where his eyes linger before darting away. You feel it too, a heaviness that wasn’t there before last night.

You both go through the motions of the morning—case briefings, checking in with Garcia, organizing files—but the tension remains. It doesn’t dissipate.

It isn’t until after lunch, when the office is quieter, that he finally broaches the subject. He finds you in the conference room, feigning interest in the same timeline you’ve both been obsessing over for weeks. But you’re not really seeing it, and you know he knows that.

He closes the door behind him—not all the way, but just enough to create a barrier.

“We need to talk about last night,” he says, his voice as cautious as his posture, hands shoved deep in his pockets, shoulders taut.

You exhale, setting your pen down. “Yeah,” you reply, meeting his gaze. “We probably should.”

A silence stretches between you. He’s studying you, searching for something in your expression, as if hoping you’ll speak first and spare him the burden. But you don’t.

His throat works around the next words. “It… shouldn’t have happened.”

Your stomach tightens, even though you anticipated it. “It didn’t happen,” you remind him, your voice steady.

His jaw clenches. You both know that’s a lie.

“It almost did,” he counters, quiet but resolute. “And that’s—” He exhales sharply, dragging a hand over his face. “That’s not something I can afford. Not now.”

You nod, pretending that it doesn’t sting. That it doesn’t leave you aching in a way you can’t quite name.

“I know.”

His expression softens just a fraction. “You’re—” He halts, reconsidering whatever he was about to say. Then, more gently, “You mean a lot to me.”

Something tightens in your chest. “I know,” you repeat, because you do.

Neither of you moves. Neither of you dares to voice what you’re both thinking. That if circumstances were different—if the world weren’t crumbling around you, if Foyet weren’t still out there, if he weren’t burdened by too many ghosts—maybe last night wouldn’t have ended the way it did.

Maybe it wouldn’t have ended at all.

But you both know better.

So you swallow it down. Bury it deep. And when you move to leave, brushing past him through the half-open door, he doesn’t stop you.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

Rossi isn’t surprised when Hotch shows up at his house that night, but he’s taken aback by the look on his face—troubled, adrift in a way he rarely allows himself to be.

Wordlessly, Rossi steps aside, inviting him in.

Hotch paces the living room, his footsteps echoing in the stillness, before finally stopping in front of the fireplace, staring at the darkened embers as if they might whisper some hidden truth. He exhales, runs a hand over his jaw, and then finally speaks.

“I let it get too far,” he admits, his voice taut with tension.

Rossi leans against the arm of the couch, watching him intently. “With her?”

Hotch doesn’t answer immediately, but the silence speaks volumes.

Rossi nods slowly. “How far?”

Hotch closes his eyes for a fleeting moment. “Almost.”

There’s a rawness in his voice that makes Rossi take a breath before responding. “But it didn’t...go too far.”

“No.��

“Why not?”

A flicker of pain crosses Aaron's features. “Because it shouldn’t happen.”

Rossi scoffs softly. “That’s not an answer.”

Hotch turns to him now, sharp yet weary. “The rules, Dave.”

“The rules.” Rossi echoes the words, slow and deliberate. “The same rules you two have been bending for months?”

Hotch exhales sharply, looking away as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders.

Rossi lets the silence linger for a moment before pressing on. “So what was it, really?”

Hotch doesn’t answer right away. He grips the mantle, his knuckles turning white. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper.

“It feels wrong.”

Rossi tilts his head, searching for understanding. “Why?”

Hotch swallows hard, his vulnerability laid bare. “Because Jack and Haley are in hiding. Because they’re out there somewhere, cut off from everything they know, because of me. And I’m here—” His voice catches, thick with emotion. “I’m here, wanting something for myself.”

Rossi studies him carefully, his heart aching for the man before him. “Something, or someone?”

Hotch remains silent, the weight of his unspoken desires hanging in the air.

Rossi sighs and pushes off the couch, stepping closer. “Listen, Aaron. No one’s saying this isn’t complicated. Hell, nothing in your life has been simple since the day you put on that badge. But tell me this—does being miserable make them any safer?”

Hotch tenses, the question striking a nerve.

“You think denying yourself every good thing in your life is going to change what’s already happened?” Rossi shakes his head, frustration mingling with compassion. “You think it’s going to bring them back?”

Hotch’s breath is slow, measured. “No.”

“Then what are you punishing yourself for?”

Hotch looks at him, caught between exhaustion and frustration, a storm of emotions swirling in his eyes. “I don’t know.”

Rossi nods, as if he expected that answer. He places a reassuring hand on Hotch’s shoulder, grounding him. “Then figure it out. Because she’s not going to wait around forever.”

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

You gaze at the transfer request form resting on your desk, the words meticulously inscribed in your precise handwriting. All that remains is your signature.

Your pen hovers over the line, your fingers tightening around it. This is the right choice. The only choice.

The memory of that night is still too vivid, too piercing. The way Hotch had looked at you, the way the space between you had evaporated in an instant. How neither of you moved at first, simply inhaling the same air, ensnared in something impossible to reclaim. And then—he pulled away.

Of course he did.

You exhale, shaking your head as you press the tip of the pen to the paper. The ink bleeds into the line as you sign your name.

It’s done.

You rise, the request cradled in your hands, and make your way to Hotch’s office. The bullpen is quieter than usual, the hum of agents working fading into the background as you ascend the stairs.

Hotch’s office is a sanctuary of stillness, the only sound the faint scratching of his pen against paper as he reviews a case file. The dim glow from his desk lamp casts a soft halo around him, accentuating the hard lines of his face. Your fingers tighten around the envelope in your grasp, its weight far heavier than the paper inside.

You shouldn’t be here.

You could leave it on his desk and slip away, letting him open it when you’re not around to witness his reaction. But that would be cowardly, and you owe him more than that.

Taking a steadying breath, you step forward and place the envelope deliberately in front of him. The motion feels monumental, though your pulse thunders in your throat.

Hotch doesn’t look up immediately. The moment stretches unbearably before he finally sets his pen down, his dark eyes lifting to meet yours. His gaze flickers to the envelope, scanning the neatly printed name in the corner, before returning to your face.

A beat of silence. Then—

“What is this?” His voice is even, yet there’s an undercurrent—something restrained.

You swallow hard. “My transfer request.”

His expression barely shifts, but the atmosphere in the room thickens. He doesn’t touch the envelope, doesn’t even glance down at it again. Instead, he leans back slightly, studying you with the kind of intensity that has unraveled criminals and cracked open cases.

“Why?”

It’s such a simple question, yet it knocks the breath from your lungs.

You should’ve been prepared for this, but standing here now, under the weight of his gaze, everything you rehearsed in your mind feels flimsy.

Because it’s becoming too painful.

Because I can’t be near you like this anymore.

Because I almost kissed you, and I don’t know how to come back from that.

But you can’t voice any of that. Instead, you force yourself to stand a little taller, steady your voice, and say, “Because this is becoming too complicated.”

His eyes darken, but he remains still, his only reaction the slight tightening of his jaw.

“You think leaving is the solution?” His voice is quieter now, measured, but there’s something else lurking beneath—something that makes your breath catch.

“It has to be.” The words feel irrevocable, but they don’t settle right in your chest. “We can’t keep pretending nothing’s happening, and I can’t—I won’t—be reckless about this.”

A muscle flickers in his jaw, the only outward sign that your words resonate with him. “So instead of confronting it, you run?”

Your stomach twists. “This isn’t running. It’s safeguarding my career. Protecting yours.”

He exhales slowly, looking away for the first time, as if searching for something to anchor him.

“Do you truly believe I’d let this cloud my judgment?” he asks, voice low.

“I think we’re already there,” you reply, softer now.

That seems to strike a chord. His fingers flex against the desk, the tension in his shoulders palpable even through his crisp dress shirt.

For a fleeting second, you think he might say something else. That he might finally acknowledge the truth neither of you have dared to articulate.

But instead, he nods, slow and deliberate.

“I see.”

The finality in his tone stings more than you anticipated.

You nod once, turning before you lose your resolve. You make it to the door, gripping the handle with fingers that feel ice-cold, when his voice halts you.

“I’ll review it in the morning.”

You don’t look back. Because if you do, you might change your mind.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

The dream comes in fragments—flashes of heat, of craving, of something that’s been held back for too long, finally breaking free.

It starts with the kiss. The kiss that didn’t happen, but in the dream, it does. The air between you crackles with tension, the soft lighting in his apartment making everything feel too intimate, too close. His hand cups your face, pulling you in with a force that takes your breath away. Your lips meet—slow at first, testing, but then it deepens, his mouth molding perfectly to yours, taking what you’ve both been craving.

His hands move to your waist, fingers tracing the curves of your body like he’s memorizing every inch. You can feel the heat of him against you, his chest pressing into yours, the hard outline of his body telling you everything he’s trying to keep inside. His lips trail down your jaw, his breath hot against your skin.

“You’re not afraid of this, are you?” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly.

You shake your head, pulling him closer, the friction between you igniting something that can’t be denied. “No,” you whisper back, your hands slipping under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin, the muscles beneath.

He groans softly, his hands finding their way to the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss—this time more desperate, more raw. You let him take control, his mouth claiming yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. Every part of you is alive, every inch of you aware of him.

He trails kisses along your throat, his breath shaky against your skin as he moves lower, and you can’t stop the sound that escapes your lips—soft, needy. You tug at his tie, eager to feel more of him, and he groans again, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. His hands find their way to your hips, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the hard edge of him pressed against you, making your pulse quicken.

“This is what you wanted, right?” His voice is a growl now, low and filled with desire.

You nod, your hands gripping his shirt tighter, needing him closer. “Yes,” you breathe out, before pulling his mouth back to yours.

But then the dream shifts.

The warmth fades, the kiss halts, and suddenly, he’s not there. The space between you is empty, and in its place, there’s an envelope on his desk—your transfer request.

His eyes snap open, his chest heaving with the remnants of the dream, the desire still burning beneath his skin. He runs a hand over his face, the weight of everything hitting him all at once. His pulse is still racing, but now it’s a different kind of tension—frustration, regret, and something else… something that tells him this transfer might be the best thing for both of you.

Because if you stay, this—whatever it is—might destroy him.

And if you stay, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop himself from taking it too far next time.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

Hotch stands by his desk, the dream still suspended in the air like tendrils of smoke. He watches you, every fiber of his being drawn to the choice he knows he must confront. The desire that clung to him in his sleep has morphed into a quiet ache in his chest, a pulsing reminder of everything he’s been repressing. You can see it in his eyes—the turbulent conflict between duty and his emotions, the pressure escalating with every heartbeat.

The decision is resolute in his mind, though his feelings swirling beneath the surface are anything but clear. “I’ll let you transfer,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but the finality of it slices through the space between you.

You feel your breath catch, the sting of tears already pressing against your eyes before you can fully absorb his words. You swallow hard, striving to maintain your composure, but it’s futile. The dam breaks, and a single tear slips down your cheek, quickly followed by another. The meaning of it—the thought of leaving, of him saying it—brings everything crashing down.

Hotch steps closer, unsure how to navigate this moment. His breath hitches when he sees you, the tears making it all too real, all the more unbearable. He reaches out hesitantly, then pulls you into him, his arms enveloping you as if trying to hold you together against the storm.

It’s strange, comforting, and overwhelming all at once. His embrace feels like the only refuge where the burdens of the world dissipate.

“I didn’t want this,” he says, his voice thick with emotion, his breath unstable. You can hear the battle in his words, the rawness of what remains between you. He tightens his grip around you as if he's preserving you from breaking.

“I know,” you whisper, your voice cracking. You press your face into his chest, the tears flowing faster now, soaking the fabric of his shirt.

He doesn’t say anything more, but the way he holds you, the delicate strokes of his hand against the back of your head, speaks volumes. He’s striving to be strong for both of you, attempting to do the right thing, even as every part of him aches to keep you close.

“Don’t go,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse and vulnerable. His words are faint, almost pleading, as if he’s relinquishing the last vestiges of his control.

“I have to,” you reply. You pull back slightly to look up at him, your hands pressing against his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heart. You search his eyes for any sign of what this means, but he’s too guarded, his walls too formidable.

He swallows hard, his fingers brushing against your cheek, wiping away the remnants of your tears. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, but you both know the apology isn’t for what’s happening now—it’s for everything that led to this moment.

You take a shaky breath, trying to still yourself, but his presence, the way he holds you, makes it all the more difficult. You don’t want to leave. You don’t want this to be the end. But you know it must be.

“Goodbye, Aaron,” you say in concession, finally pulling away.

His eyes remain on you, filled with pain and regret, before he nods. “Goodbye.”

And even though the words are final, the silence that follows is heavy with everything left unsaid—everything neither of you had the courage to confront until it was too late.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

Tag List :)

@percysley

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner angst #hotch x y/n #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner series #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #criminal minds imagine #the purest things series #slow burn aaron hotchner

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7ndipity · 1 year ago

Text

Take Care

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: Namjoon tries to remind you that looking after yourself is just as important as looking after you partner

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: slight angst, swearing, mentions of illness and medications, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to @coffeedepressionsoup for this request! Sorry it took me soo long to get to, I got a little stuck, so it might be a bit eh, but I hope you’ll still like it!💜

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

“Just please make sure to look after yourself.” That was one of the top five things that Namjoon said the most to you, second only to “I love you”. It might’ve made him sound a bit like an over concerned parent sometimes, but you didn’t mind, knowing he meant well.

He had always worried about you, even before you got together, and with the past few hectic weeks of work, his concern had only worsened, but you had tried to assure him that you were doing alright and managing fine, which wasn’t entirely true, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. He didn’t need to know about the long hours and sleepless nights to keep up with the deadlines that were rapidly creeping up on you.

Your eye twitched with fatigue as you scanned through your notes for the nith time, casting a quick glance at the clock before saving and closing your laptop, trying to push down the faint uneasy, sinking feeling in your gut, and focusing on getting ready for your evening out with Joon.

He had asked a few weeks ago if you wanted to come with him to a special art exhibition featuring one of his favorite artists, which you had readily agreed to, although currently, the idea of spending multiple hours wandering around a gallery didn’t sound ideal, but you couldn’t imagine canceling on him, knowing how much he loved getting to share his interests with you.

You were putting the finishing touches on your look when you heard him knock, smiling massively when you opened the door.

“Hi.” He said, kissing your cheek. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you, you look pretty spiffy yourself.” You teased, turning to grab your bag, pausing slightly as you were hit with a small wave of dizziness.

“You okay?” He asked.

“I’m fine, just a little tired.” You assured quickly, flashing him a quick grin, but he still frowned slightly, unconvinced.

“If you’re not feeling well, we don’t have to go-”

“No, I want to.” You interjected, stopping him. “You’ve been looking forward to this, I want to go.”

He looked like he wanted to argue with you, but he let it slide for the moment.

The majority of the night passed smoothly, you talked and laughed with his friends, earning more a few proud smiles from him, though you also noticed him periodically watching you with a cautious eye, making sure you were okay.

You’d begun to feel increasingly unwell at various points through the evening, but you’d managed to keep a calm facade for the most part, not wanting to spoil you and Joon’s evening, until you were suddenly hit with another wave of dizziness, causing your steps to falter.

You instinctively reached out for Namjoon, catching hold of his arm for support as you tried to steady yourself.

Joon immediately glanced down at you in concern, his other arm coming to wrap around your waist to hold you.

“Are you alright?!” He asked, eyeing you anxiously.

“yeah, I just feel dizzy.” You said weakly.

He instantly went into protective caregiver mode, carefully guiding you over to an empty bench in the corner of the room, bringing you some water, and feeling your forehead for any sign of fever while going through the usual list of questions.

“Did you eat today?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Did you take your meds?”

“I-” You tried to think back through your day, but everything was a frenzied blur of work and getting ready to go out. “I might’ve forgotten it.”

“You might have forgotten?!” He asked sharply.

“I don’t know, Joon, I was busy! What does it matter?!” You snapped, not in the mood to be scolded by him.

“It matters if you get sick!” He said sternly, carefully pulling you up from your seat. “C’mon, we’re going home.”

“I’ll be fine, I just need to rest for a few minutes.” You tried to pull away from him, but the sudden movement caused another bout of dizziness to hit you, coupled this time with a touch of nausea that had you sinking back into your seat.

As soon as he saw your face lose color, every ounce of anger and frustration in his body disappeared, replaced only with worry for you.

“You’re not fine!” He said seriously. “We’re going home.”

You didn’t bother trying to argue with him anymore, feeling increasingly lightheaded and woozy, wanting nothing more in that moment than to just lay down.

Joon barely spoke on the way home, a growing sense of guilt brewing on your stomach as you watched him, his hands tight on the steering wheel as he drove.

“Joon-” You started, but he was quick to stop you.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning, okay? Right now, I just want you to rest.”

As soon as you got home, he carried you to bed, helping you change and making sure you took your medications before finally sinking into the bed, falling into a dreamless sleep almost immediately.

Joon however barely slept, waking every couple of hours throughout the night to make sure you were alright. Eventually, he gave up on sleep entirely, watching over you while you slept instead.

You looked so fragile to him like this, his mind couldn’t help wandering back to your earlier comments. How much had you been neglecting yourself recently? Were you eating properly? He knew you hadn’t been sleeping well.

Maybe he was overreacting and it was just a one off event, but it was still more than enough to scare him. He was well aware how hectic things had been lately, but he had hoped they weren’t taking such a harsh toll on you like this.

When you woke the next morning, your eyes immediately landed on his half sleeping form propped up next to you in the bed.

“Joon?” You croaked, your voice small and ragged from sleep, snapping him to attention.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He asked softly, gently brushing your hair away from your face.

“ ‘m okay, tired.” You replied.

“That’s alright.” He smiled. “Are you hungry? I can order food. I thought about trying to cook, but I figured that might not be the best idea.”

“Yeah, probably not.” You replied with a grin, glancing around sleepily. “What time is it?” The light streaming in through the curtains indicated that it was well past your normal wake up time.

“About ten.”

“What?” You gasped, scrambling to sit up, the sudden movement causing your head to spin again.

“Careful!” He said gently, pushing you back down into the bed. “Everything’s alright. You just need to take it easy and rest.”

“I can’t, I’ve got a deadline!” You tried to sit up again, but he pressed you back down firmly. My boss is probably wondering where the hell I-”

“I already texted your manager and told them you were sick and wouldn’t be in today.” He said matter of factly.

You gaped at him. “Why would you do that?!”

“Because you need to rest.” He said, pulling you into him. “They’ll be fine, everything won't fall apart just because you took a day. You need to take time to look after yourself too, you know?”

You looked down, avoiding his eyes, the guilt from the night before bubbling back to the surface.

“I know, I just…I didn’t wanna ruin your night.” You sniffed, trying to fight back the frustrated tears that threatened to spill. “I don’t know, I’m sorry I upset you.”

He pulled you closer. “The only thing I’m upset about is how hard you’ve been pushing yourself. I know things have been tough, but I don't want you to hide from me. And I don’t want you putting everyone else ahead of you. You are far too important to ever neglect, you hear me?”

You nodded, letting Namjoon wipe away the few stray tears that slipped down your cheeks, “I didn’t mean to get so caught up, it just kinda snowballed.”

“I know, I’ve done the same thing.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. “But do you remember what you did last time it happened?”

You scoffed. “Basically kidnapped you for the weekend?”

“Yep,” He grinned. “So, consider this my payback.”

Joon helped you get settled back under the covers, resting your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“Thank you Joonie.” You mumbled.

“Always.” He wrapped his arms around you. “Get some rest, Sweetheart.”

You fell back to sleep in his arms, feeling safe and at peace for the first time in weeks.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

#bts one shot #bts drabble #bts comfort #bts scenarios #bts requests #bts x y/n #bts x reader #namjoon scenarios #namjoon drabble #namjoon fluff #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #bts fluff #namjoon one shot #namjoon oneshot #namjoon comfort #7ndipity

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internet1girl · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter 4: Jaded.

Pairing: Johnny Cage x Fem!Reader

Summary: You wouldn’t dare admit it, but something has shifted in your view of your fellow champion.

Word count: 12.4k Warnings/Notices: named!reader, changes in mk1’s story (sue me), dubious content?? idk both the reader and johnny are still covered in blood in the first scene, jealous!reader, drunk!reader, tongue kissing, love bites, grinding, sexual acts depicted but nothing too explicit (yet 😈), a smidge of angst, curse words, flirty johnny

First Chapter / Previous Part / Next Part

A/N: welcome back for another chapter!! i’m not going to say much, but this is where we get things in motion >:) enjoy reading <33

also i knowwww i said i'd make these shorter i swear i thought this thing was like 3k words wtf

By now, enough time had passed that it was now the early morning. The evening, as well as the night, came and went. Outworld was now starting to brighten after hours of darkness.

The carriage had finally reached Sun Do, Geras was now quietly steering the vehicle along the cobblestone roads. The city's streets lie quiet and empty, all its residents still sleeping soundly in their homes. A faint glimmer of the sun begins to seep over the horizon, casting a soft but subtle light over the city and its buildings. The cool morning air was crisp and fresh. If a person really focused, then would be able to pick up on the faint scent of damp earth and wood smoke, remnants of fires extinguished from the previous night.

In the distance, the soft clip-clop of horse hooves broke through the tranquil silence, growing louder as the carriage emerged from behind buildings. The wheels rumble softly over the cobblestones, echoing through the empty streets. Geras, bundled in his heavy cloak, parked the horses outside of Liu Kang’s estate with a steady hand, hopping down from the front seat and tending to the animals before making his way over to the carriage interior.

You and Johnny were inside, laid out on your respective seats as you both quietly sleep. At first, it was hard to get comfortable. Your blood-covered uniforms were just so uncomfortable to try and fall asleep in. But eventually, your fatigues got the better of you two, you both nodded off sometime in the night. Your bodies lay unmoving, curled up on your seat cushions as your minds explored the world of dreams.

You both didn't even move when the carriage stopped moving, nor did you both react to the sound of heavy footsteps making their way alongside the vehicle. You both did, however, react to Geras loudly opening the door.

Johnny's eyes slowly fluttered open, his body shifting around tiredly as he roused from his sleep. He took a moment to figure out his surroundings, his head snapping up and his eyes landing on the figure in the doorway. Grunting softly, he sat up from his seat and stretched out his back, wincing at every pop and crack that came from his sore muscles.

In contrast, you didn’t wake up so gracefully. In response to the sudden change of brightness, you hastily covered your eyes with your forearms. You rolled around a little, grumbling and groaning something about being woken up too early. You weren’t awake enough to realise that you were finally back in Sun Do, instead you were mumbling something about five more minutes.

"Wha... what's... going on? Are we…?” You weren’t a morning person, evident by how slurred and hoarse your voice was. To be suddenly woken up like this really fucked with you. A state of confusion had a firm hold on your psyche as you pushed yourself up and looked around, your vision clearing as it settled on your driver in front of you.

Geras, meanwhile, watched you two rise with the blankest of blank expressions plastered across his face. He generously waited for you both to wake up a little and regain more of yourselves before he spoke up.

"Jade. Johnny. Good morning to you both. We have arrived in Sun Do."

"Ugh, finally... my ass is killing me..." Johnny mumbled, now mostly awake.

He turned to the side, taking a moment to watch as you gathered your bearings. A small laugh came from him at how incoherent and unkempt you looked. You were always so prim and proper, to see you like this had him snickering like a schoolboy.

Not that you noticed. You were too busy pushing your body up, too focused on loudly yawning and stretching out your aching arms. After such a tough few days, you couldn't wait to have a shower and a proper meal, as well as get reinstated with society.

"Geras, good morning..." You groggily greet your driver, rubbing your eyes clear of sleep as you spoke. “…We are at Liu Kang's estate, yes?"

The construct emotionlessly nodded in response, the action short and confirming.

"Lovely.." You were fully sat up at this point. When you were done stretching out your arms for a second time, you turned to look at your companion.

There was something about him in the morning light that made him look… handsome. His messy hair framed his face rather well, and those eyes, heavy with sleep, did nothing to dispel his attractiveness. Although, you didn't dare say any of this out loud.

“Cage…” You greeted him, your vision finally focused. "I trust that you slept well?"

"Slept like a rock.” Despite the way he looked in the moment, his tone was bright and chipper, paired with a grin to boot. “You, sweetheart?"

“Slept as well as I could, given our current circumstances..." You were slightly keeled over, your hands planted on your knees as you prepare to exit the carriage and use your legs after a night of idleness.

He hummed at your response. Though he tried to hide it, his eyes couldn't resist roaming all over your body, he was practically drinking up the sight of you like this. Johnny’s gaze lingered on how your hands gripped your knees, thoughts that were far from innocent were flashing through his mind.

Geras stepped aside as you two got out of the carriage. He was emotionless at the sight of Johnny semi-recklessly hopping out of the vehicle, showing no reaction to the man loudly stretching and yawning.

You, meanwhile, were a lot slower in exiting. You took a moment to rid yourself of a yawn before you quietly and slowly stepped through the doorway, gemstone clutched in your hand as you looked around Sun Do's empty streets.

"Ugh, finally... I need a shower…” Johnny was grumbling under his breath, shaking out his hands as he got the blood flow back into them.

Geras had dropped you two off right outside Liu Kang's estate, a nice change compared to the dark alleyway he picked you both up in. The wall surrounding the manor towered over you three, the gates built into them parted for Johnny to step through. He made his way towards the entrance of the home, taking a glance back at you as he walked.

"You coming?"

"Right behind you." You called out, walking up the stairs and taking a place beside him as he knocked on the door. You tightened your grip around the gemstone a little, mentally preparing yourself to tell Liu Kang all that had been discovered.

There was a brief moment of wait that played out as Johnny’s knuckles left the wood of the door. You were zoning out, so you didn’t notice him looking down at you. His eyes drank up the way you looked in the light of daybreak. He didn’t even care about how dirty you were, you still looked as stunning as ever in his eyes. You were simply breathtaking, like a painting that’s come to life…

The sound of footsteps from inside the estate snapped him out of his thoughts, the door creaking open and revealing Liu Kang waiting on the other side.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The pair of you found yourselves directly in the Fire God’s study. By now, you two were just finishing up the process of debriefing Liu Kang about your time in the pyramid. The both of you were presenting him with all that had been discovered.

Well, to be more accurate, you were the one debriefing Liu Kang. Johnny just stood by your side for a few minutes before walking away and slumping down on a couch next to the wall, his eyes firmly glued to the phone now in his hand. He already interrupted you whilst you were speaking to tell Liu Kang about all the ass you both kicked multiple times, what else was there to do?

“…And this gemstone was powering that machine." You brought up the giant red stone to Liu Kang's eye level, turning it slightly so he could get a better look. "I don't know what it is, but it's absolutely rife with magical energy."

"I see...and you're sure that it was General Shao's men guarding this machine?" Liu Kang was very interested to hear what you had to say, his white eyes glossing over with intrigue as he listened patiently.

"Yes, I'm sure of it. The way they were all dressed fit the descriptions of his soldiers. Why they were there, however, still eludes me…”

He nodded at your answer, his expression grim as he thought about what could be going on. The fact that Shao had his men stationed around Outworld was a serious matter, it was unlikely that the pyramid was the only location his new army would’ve stopped at. This, coupled with the multiple recent disturbances, was most concerning.

"...If the General has his men stationed near powerful magic such as this... it's possible that he's not working alone." Liu Kang brought up a hand to his chin, delving deeper and deeper into his thoughts as his mind thought about the worst that could come.

But all of that speculation could be saved for another time.

"Thank you for your work, Jade." He brought his hand away from his chin and gently placed it on your shoulder, a small smile now on his face. "Both you and Johnny did well."

You nod and smile back in response, a feeling of pride making its way through your body at your mentor’s praise.

Johnny's head perked up from his phone when he heard his name mentioned, his eyes drifting towards the Fire God and you. He looked at Liu Kang's hand on your shoulder, eyes narrowing. He wanted to get in on some of that!

"Yeah, no problem..." He called lazily from his seat, his attention on you both for a few seconds before returning back to his phone.

Your prideful expression turned into one of slight annoyance upon hearing his words. You took your eyes off of Liu Kang for a moment to look back at your lazy partner. There you were, telling Liu Kang all that had been found on the mission that you risked your life for, and he was slumped in the corner scrolling through Instagram. Unbelievable.

Seeing this made a question form in Liu Kang’s mind. You and Johnny were never paired together for missions before. He had hoped that by pairing you together, you both would finally start getting along. Or, at least, that you two would cease arguing every five minutes.

He was curious. If you two managed to bring back all this information, just how did you both get along?

"How did the two of you fare?" He asked, bringing his voice down in volume slightly so only you could hear his question. He awaited your answer with bated breath, hoping that pairing you both together wasn't a mistake.

"Surprisingly, not that badly." You responded, noting his expression of surprise upon the unexpected news. "He was key in fighting off Shao's men. I was shocked to witness the excellent martial arts prowess that he possesses. Without him, I don't know if this mission would've succeeded."

You purposely kept your voice low, low enough for only Liu Kang to hear. You didn't want Johnny to hear your praises, you knew that he would never shut up about it. You also purposely omitted the heart-to-heart you both had on the way back. That wasn't for anyone else to know, some things must be kept secret.

This was a pleasant surprise, truly. To hear that you two didn't actually kill each other on this mission, as well as to hear that you actually had some good things to say about Johnny for once, had Liu Kang’s face light up. He never thought that the day would come.

"I see." He responded quietly, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he too played along.

Liu Kang thought more about the way you spoke. He took a brief glance back over at Johnny, still in his seat and scrolling on his phone, completely uninterested and oblivious, and then he looked back over you. You seemed to think more highly - or, at least, less lowly - of Johnny. And don’t think that he missed that compliment veiled behind the snark in your voice. Hmm…

He had heard all that there was to the mission. It was more of a success that he predicted. All this information brought back to him would be passed onto Sindel and the rest of the palace. He pocketed the gemstone now in his hand for further studying, having much to look over.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

For you and Johnny, the rest of the day was mostly spent cleaning up. Both of you didn't hesitate to take long, long showers. Finally getting a chance to clean off all the blood and sweat that adorned your bodies felt great, borderline heavenly.

You relished in how the warm water from above felt on your scalp. Cleaning out all the dried blood and dust from your hair was actually incredibly satisfying. After scrubbing at it for what must’ve been hours, your skin was finally clear of all the grime stuck to it, thank the Gods.

Luckily for you both, you had arrived back on the day that a banquet was being held. Yes, some event had happened the day before, and tonight, a celebration was being held at Empress Sindel's palace. The Empress, as well as the princesses, would all be there. As Earthrealm champions, both of you were formally invited, courtesy of Liu Kang. How fortunate!

You were now stood in your room, a towel wrapped around your body and your hair still wet from that long shower. Confusion fogged your mind, you just... didn't know what to wear.

By now, the banquet was in a few hours. You weren’t even fully dry yet and you had to be somewhere soon. This wasn't your first formal event, but it was your first in a long time. You had to dress to impress, you would be in the presence of literal royalty.

You had two dresses in your outstretched hands, your eyes narrowed as you studied the outfits intensely. One of them was a lovely emerald green, floor length satin gown. The other was a gorgeous royal blue kimono that was cropped just above the mid-thigh. Two of your favourite dresses, you… just... couldn't... pick. Well, you had to, unless you wanted to sit out on this banquet, which you didn't.

Out of options, you placed them on the edge of your bed and strode over to your bag. You rummaged around your belongings until you found a coin, flipping it off of your thumb and leaving the choice up to fate. Heads, the kimono. Tails, the satin gown.

As it was spinning in the air, the fact that Johnny would also be at this event popped into your mind, his pseudo-presence worming into your thoughts. Pfft, not that that mattered, right? It's TOTALLY not like there was a part of you that wanted to impress him. No, you really didn't care about how you would look in front of him, you were dressing up because it was a nice event, NOT because Johnny would also be there... right?

The clang of the metal coin on the floor jolted you out of your thoughts. It was tails, you were wearing the green satin gown.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The banquet was lovely. It was mostly outdoors - so, throughout the whole event, there was a nice breeze flowing through the evening. A scene of opulence and grandeur, a barrage of purple decorations adorned the courtyard, courtesy of the colour scheme of Outworld’s Empress.

Long, elegantly carved tables stretched out across the space, covered in the violet tablecloths that were draped across them. A barrage of guests were sat at these tables, the air was thick with conversation and the sounds of cutlery making contact with plates.

Servers in livery moved gracefully among the tables, presenting an array of dishes on silver platters as well as clearing away any empty plates. Umgadi warriors were stationed all around the courtyard, keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity, as was their job to guard the palace. A musician was stationed on a grand piano nearby, a beautiful Edenian melody oozing from his fingers. The sound of the music harmonised beautifully with the laughter and conversation of the guests. So far, the night was going well.

You were sat at one of these tables, dressed to the nines in the emerald gown that you ended up picking. You looked gorgeous, wearing green eye makeup to go with your green dress. Johnny was right, the colour suited you. The way your gown clung to your form perfectly was something that brought a smile to your face whilst you were getting ready. It was a welcome change from the blood covered suit you were in just this morning.

Speaking of, Johnny was sat a table away from you, dressed in a sleek black suit and tie to match. His hair took on a neater style than usual, a clean side part dividing his brushed back brown locks.

He would sip the wine in his glass occasionally, looking up to glance at you every so often. This wasn't the first time he'd seen you look nice as you did now, but the switch from your usually frumpy clothes to elegance like this still surprised him every time.

Looking up from your meal, you noticed Johnny across from you. That jet black suit he was in, and the way his shiny brunette hair was styled, made a warm feeling sprout in your stomach. He looked really handsome tonight, there was something about him so formally dressed, his features so beautifully carved, that had you acting up a little. Ah, it was probably the wine... right?

The thing is... he was sat right next to Princess Kitana, the same woman who he had a… special relationship with. The both of them became further and further enamoured with each other as time went on, the wine being served loosening the two up a little. Johnny switched his attention from one beautiful woman to another. You left his mind as his focus was almost solely reduced to Kitana, not being able to resist how she looked in her glittering blue dress.

The two of them were so touchy, they almost couldn't keep their hands off of each other. He'd place a hand on her upper thigh and lean in to whisper something in her ear from time to time, making her shake with laughter. Looks like he wasn't lying back in the carriage, he really had bagged the princess.

Seeing this sent a certain feeling through your heart. One that took your attention off of your meal. There was something that you didn’t like about the way he had his arm around her shoulder, it made something ugly stir within your core. The two of them looked so happy, so pleased with each other. The sight alone sent a shiver down your spine. There was something about Johnny paying attention to another woman that made your face screw up and your eyes darken.

You were jealous.

Luckily (or, maybe unluckily) for you, Johnny was too focused on Kitana to notice you shooting daggers at them with your eyes. The beautiful princess next to him had completely captured his attention, at times it was almost like he was entranced, bewitched. He didn't even bother looking in your direction for the entire rest of the night.

Before your mood worsened to the point where you would do something you would end up regretting, something else captured your attention.

"Jade Houzuki, is it?"

Princess Mileena, Sindel's firstborn and heir to the throne, was sat next to you. She had heard tales of Liu Kang's Earthrealmers, and now one of them was sat right next to her. This was an opportunity that she was all too happy to take advantage of, she didn’t hesitate in striking up a conversation with you.

Upon hearing your name, you took your attention off of Johnny and Kitana. You swivelled your head to meet her awaiting gaze, your eyes widened with curiosity.

"...Princess Mileena. It is an honour." You were surprised, truly. The heiress to Outworld's throne was speaking to you? You, of all people? Wow, were you dreaming? Maybe if you pinch yourself hard enough, just to make-

"Please, I'm sitting at a public event with you, just call me Mileena. No need for ‘princess’ this and ‘highness’ that. We're both ladies here." Mileena looked at you, a warm smile on her face.

You returned her smile. Her humble nature surprised you, it was admittedly unexpected. There was something refreshing about her kindness, it warmed your icy jealousy. Mileena's presence took your mind off of Johnny and his “friend”. You turned your body fully to face the princess, eager to see where this conversation would go.

In turn, her own smile deepened, her lips parting to reveal her beautiful pearly teeth. She leaned in a little towards you, her eyes shining with a mischievous glint.

"I have to say… I'm impressed that you can deal with Johnny Cage. I was told that many Earthrealmers find him to be infuriating.”

You chuckled when you heard this. It’s not like she was wrong, Johnny's ego was something that was widely known. You lean in a little, too. Your voice was just above a whisper as you spoke next.

"Thank you. It is not an easy burden." You joked, your smile widening at the princess’ laugh. "Did Lord Liu Kang tell you about the mission we’ve just returned from?"

"Oh, l've heard quite a lot from him about the pyramid. The two of you apparently work extremely well together."

"He said this?” You nearly stuttered your words, more than a little taken aback on hearing about your mentor’s praise. Did Liu Kang really say this?

"Yes. His exact words to me were: "In the end, they got the job done and did a fine job, too”.” Mileena mimicked his voice as she spoke, before breaking into a small laugh. "Coming from Liu Kang, that's a hell of an achievement."

"Wow..." You really didn't know how to respond to her words. The idea of Liu Kang praising you to the heir to Sindel made you sit up a little higher in your seat.

"...I wouldn't say that we work together extremely well, per se. But, he actually isn't that insufferable." Your voice was now thick with confidence, any shyness that you previously held onto was now lost to the wind.

"Oh?" She teased, enjoying learning every new detail she could about you. "So you don't find him that infuriating?”

"Oh, no, I totally do. Just not as much as l always believed."

You both laughed, finding gossiping about Johnny with each other much about the most interesting thing at this banquet. Much like your companion and her sister, you and Mileena became further and further enamoured with each other as the night went on. The wine in your glasses swirled with interest, more tales and tidbits were drawn from the both of you with each sip, your combined laughters melding in with the air of conversation around.

“…Honestly, I can't imagine what it’s like to deal with such a man for long periods of time!”

"By the Gods, he would flirt with me every chance he had!” You laughed, a compilation of Johnny’s shameless advances flashing through your mind. "That man is a dog, truly."

"Oh, you're preaching to the choir!” Mileena glanced over her shoulder at him and her sister. The two were still very much enamoured with each other, nothing had changed in the time that had passed. Kitana had just said something in his ear, causing Johnny to burst out into loud, booming laughter.

"He really takes it to the extreme, doesn't he?"

You hummed in agreement and shared her field of vision in looking over to them, your dormant envy bubbling back up a little at the sight of the two shamelessly slapping at each other.

It was like a switch within you had flipped. You turned back to her with determination on your face, you felt compelled to tell what Johnny had told you on the way to the pyramid, the night before you arrived.

"You didn't hear this from me…” You looked to your left and then your right, like a drug dealer checking the coast was clear. “…but I was told that him and Princess Kitana have a… thing going on."

This made her eyebrows lift a small bit. She glanced back in their direction once more, her lip pursuing in amusement before turning back to face you.

"Oh, I know. It's totally obvious."

"You know?!" Your voice heightened by a couple of octaves. Mileena’s revelation made your eyes bulge wide open in surprise. Was this common knowledge? Was it really that obvious?

The princess just snickered at your shock, nearly choking on her wine as the sound slipped past her lips.

"Yes! Well, everyone does, really." A sly smile appeared on Mileena's face as she leaned towards you once more, deciding to spill a little more tea from Outworld's gossip mill. “…Kitana is not shy about sneaking him up to her room in the night."

"D-does the Empress know?”

"Ha! Gods, no!” She damn near busted into a bout of laughter, her palm shot up to cover the giggles coming from her mouth. “Nobody has the guts to tell Mother about something so illicit.”

"Wow..." You were baffled, truly. Your mouth hung slightly agape, this man truly had a talent at rendering you speechless, whether directly or indirectly. "Unbelievable..."

Both you and Mileena passed time by gossiping like two housewives, your words revolving mostly around Johnny. You each exchanged stories of interest, loud giggles and bouts of drunken snickers came from your general direction every now and then.

You didn't want to acknowledge it, but there was a part of you that had your teeth gritting at the sight of him and Kitana being so close. It just didn’t sit right with you, the mere thought of them together made your face screw up. So, why not get that frustration out of your system by gossiping about him with her sister?

You were just in the middle of telling the princess about one of the many depraved things that Johnny had once told you when everyone around fell silent. Empress Sindel was to make a toast, the courtyard of the Empire's finest and most powerful ceased their conversations to listen to their Queen. Even Johnny and Kitana's flirtations subsided for the moment, they too stopped and turned their attention to Outworld’s matriarch.

"Ladies and Gentlemen..." Her sweet, soft voice graced every ear. Outworld’s Empress stood at the top of the courtyard, looking down at her guests with a smile on her face.

Sindel carried on with her speech, going on about how she was grateful for everyone's presence, how much Outworld was prospering, how fun this event was and stuff like that. Honestly, you were too zoned out to really focus on any of it, all that wine you drank was really started to mess with you.

Before you knew it, the speech had concluded. Everyone stood up to perform a standing ovation, the sound of clapping echoing all around the courtyard. You followed suit, to not stand out too much. You mindlessly clapped along with everyone else, silently trying to remember what Sindel even said as you slammed your palms together. Something about the Empire or whatever…?

Throughout the rest of the night, you indulged in more alcohol than you should've. Thankfully, you didn't do anything that you would come to regret in the morning. No, you mostly spent the night either dancing or talking with Mileena. The fact that the princess was such a surprisingly good gossip partner was something that you were all too happy to take advantage of.

Eventually, all good things must come to an end. The party started to die down, and guests started to leave for their homes. This included you. You drunkenly bid goodbye to your new gossip buddy, stumbling out of the palace and down Sun Do's streets.

Headed for Liu Kang's estate, the thought of your bed seemed heavenly right now. The heels that you were in hurt like hell, you wanted nothing more than to kick them off and flop down onto your soft mattress.

Johnny was on your mind as you walked back home. The two of you actually never interacted at the banquet, much to your surprise. You were drunkenly mumbling out loud about him and Kitana, something about how he'd fuck anything and blah blah blah. Thank the Gods no one was around to hear you, you wouldn't be able to handle the embarrassment.

You continued your drunken one-woman rant all the way to your room door. Once inside, you kicked your heels to the corner and slumped face-first onto your bed, too tired to get undressed and clean off your makeup. You subsequently passed out upon contact with your soft sheets, your body going numb as you slipped into unconsciousness with drunken ease.

Johnny, meanwhile, didn't go back to Liu Kang’s. Instead, he unsurprisingly spent the night with Kitana. The two could be seen by Umgadi guards drunkenly stumbling through the palace, laughing like idiots all throughout the halls.

They wasted no time once they were in the confines of her chambers. Both of them were instantly stripping, their clothes flying across the room as they went at each other. Their bodies lay intertwined on her bed, his tongue was currently buried deep in her mouth, their lips smashed against each other in a messy dance.

The way his cock was rutting against her abdomen drew deep, muffled moans out of the both of them. Her bare stomach was sticky with his precum, his own shaft was coated in her slick as it moved up and down her folds.

Johnny broke away from her mouth, a dark smile on his face as he threw her legs over his shoulders, preparing for round one of many.

It's really a wonder how Sindel somehow still doesn't know about their escapades.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

By morning, your hangover had hit you like a truck. The sun was too damn bright, the birds tweeting outside were too damn loud, the memories of last night were too damn much. It was all a mess.

You groaned and rolled around on top of your covers, the memories of your drunken last night rant to no one in particular running through your mind. You were cringing heavily. Damn that addictive fancy wine!

Eventually, though, you got up. Pushing yourself off of your mattress with a groan, you stumbled your way to your bathroom, hoping that a nice cold shower will get rid of this awful hangover.

The sudden cold water of the shower against your bare skin made you yelp. You jumped back a little, now fully awake. At least your hangover was partially gone now, so there's that.

The icy water helped clear your head after the amount of wine you had consumed last night, as well as the memories of your rambles. You were giggling like a schoolgirl at all Mileena had told you as you scrubbed last night off of your body. You couldn't remember the last time you had a conversation with a woman like that, it was nice. Refreshing, even.

You thought about what to do for the rest of the day as the water rained from above. You DID have to be ready in case Liu Kang, the Empress, or anyone of importance needed you for something. And your hangover needed fully clearing, you can’t spend the whole day on zombie mode. AND your kombat needed a little work… so to speak. There was only one clear answer to your queries, it had admittedly been a little too long since you showed your face around the palace training grounds.

In contrast, Johnny was having a very different experience. He woke up very differently to you, the light that flooded into Kitana's chambers was not too overwhelming for him. His head didn't hurt, he didn't have a raging hangover. If anything, he was feeling pretty ok after last night.

The feeling of Kitana's warm body pressed up against his in her bed was familiar. The way she was clinging onto him, even in her sleep, only served to harden his morning erection.

He looked over at the sleeping princess, his finger reaching across to lightly trace the ridge of her spine. The way the blanket was positioned, her bare back was exposed to the elements, giving Johnny a view of all the marks he had left on her last night.

He was proud of himself, but in the way that a man would be. Once again he had successfully bagged a beautiful woman. Johnny smiled to himself as he continued to trace his finger down her back, wandering a little further down as he did so.

Kitana let out a small noise at his caress, the touch of his fingers on her bare skin bringing her out of her sleep.

"Mmmm... good morning..." She mumbled as she turned her head and opened her eyes, looking up at him with a smile on her face.

It wasn't hard to imagine what they did next. All that could be said was that the poor Umgadi stationed outside the Princess's bedroom could hear a barrage of noises coming from the opposite side of the door. Mainly creaking springs and muffled groans.

It seemed like most of the day continued on as it normally would have. You were busy training at the Palace dojo, Johnny continued the day mostly lounging around and the guards outside of Kitana's chambers tried to pretend they never heard what was going on behind her door.

As the sun set, it brought the start of the night, and with that came a messenger from the Empress. Liu Kang received word from Sindel not too long after, bringing the message to both you and Johnny. Something had happened, and it needed investigating.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was now late evening, bordering on nighttime. A few days had passed, you and Johnny were now standing outside of Liu Kang's estate, waiting for a contact of his to pick you two up and take you both to the site of your latest mission.

This time, there was something mysterious going on in the Empire’s rural regions. A once lively village, now entirely depopulated. Its residents were nowhere to be found, and every single building in the settlement was void of life. News of this spread like wildfire through Outworld, it was only a matter of time before it reached the ears of Sindel and Liu Kang.

Remembering the success of the last mission, Liu Kang thought it a good idea to pair you and Johnny up together again. He was making progress in forging a positive relationship between you both, he had hoped that this new mission would only strengthen it.

So there you two were, leaning against the wall in preparation for this supposed contact to arrive. You were clad in your mission uniforms, now freshly washed and cleaned of all the blood from last time.

You were leaning against the wall, mindlessly twirling your long braid around your fingers whilst Johnny was crouched beside you. His back rested against the wall, his phone in his hand as he tapped away on his screen doing Gods know what.

The both of you were bored out of your minds. There was a silence in the air, save for the sound of Johnny's phone keyboard clicking. Out of idleness, you looked over at your partner next to you, your eyes flickering up and down his perched form. You didn't dare admit it, but deep down you could feel a small semblance of gratitude for Liu Kang lingering, you were semi-thankful that he paired you both up for a mission again. There was truly more to Johnny than he let on. Who knows, maybe you’ll find out even more about your companion during your time away.

He continued to tap and scroll away on his phone, before stopping and looking up at you from the corner of his eye. He could see you playing with your hair, he craned his head fully to hone in on the way your fingers wound your braided follicles around themselves. He didn't know why, but it was oddly satisfying to watch the action.

Unlike him, you noticed Johnny's staring almost immediately. You spoke up without turning to face him, your attention still on the buildings adjacent.

"Looking at something, Cage?"

He huffed, a sly smirk on his face. "Yeah, I am."

There was a small pause as he thought of what to say next, to capture your attention further.

"Just taking a little glance at that pretty face of yours, darlin'."

You just scoffed at his flirtatious words, rolling your eyes as you shook your head a little in disbelief. You would rather choke than admit that ever since the banquet a few days ago, a part of you longed to hear such drabble.

Johnny chuckled, eating up your adverse reactions like a five-star meal. If anything, the cute way you rolled your eyes only served to encourage him more. He pocketed his phone and pushed himself up, something far better than social media had now captured his attention.

"Y'know, I don't think I've ever seen you blush once with all my little comments." He smirked, his eyes shone with mischief.

"Didn't I tell you that your little tricks wouldn't work on me?" You turn to face him now, throwing your caution to the wind.

"Mhm, that you did." Johnny took a step towards you, shortening the - in his eyes - unneeded space between you both. His smirk remained, and his eyes still held that twinkle of mischief in them.

"But you know, l've never really had the chance to try my some of my ‘little tricks' yet. You never know, I might have a few things up my sleeve that'll get that blush of yours to come out."

"I very much doubt that." You replied with a snark tone, stepping to the side a little to put some distance between you and him.

Johnny chuckled, following after you. He closed the small gap you had created, so that now you both were side by side once again.

"Are you sure?" His voice was smooth, dripping with that classic Cage charm. Something entirely intentional, of course. His aim of you folding for him painfully clear, as it always was.

"...Very much so." You whispered in his ear, moving even further away from him in the process.

Hearing your voice so close to him, your breath ghosting on the shell of his ear, it made him shiver slightly. His smirk faltered a little and his skin pricked in anticipation. Although, he would never in a million years admit any of this. Nope, never. Johnny Cage isn’t a sappy romantic!

He accepted you distancing yourself, for now. The simp within him Something within him thought it wise to not ruin the minuscule chance he had of successfully bagging you. Well, more so than he already does, at least. Instead, he opted to stay where he stood and let a few moments of silence pass by, before he spoke up again.

"Saw you and Mileena talking at the banquet the other day." He casually informed you, resting his hands behind his head and he leaned against the wall.

"You... did?" This came as a shock to you. You thought he was too busy getting handsy with Kitana to even remember your presence at the banquet. A look of surprise flushed your face as you craned your head to face him.

Johnny chuckled again at the surprised look on your face. He looked over at you innocently, as if he were surprised that you’d be surprised.

"Yeah, I did. Couldn't really help but notice the way you two seemed so invested in each other. Seemed like you both were having a pretty good time." He added on the end, his voice carrying a hint of sarcasm. Poking fun at you like this was such a premium form of entertainment.

“…Princess Mileena is a good conversation partner, that’s all." You looked away from Johnny, trying to play off your surprise. Gods above, if only he knew what you two were actually conversing about…

"Mhmm..." Johnny's eyes narrowed a little. He took note of your deflection, already dismissing whatever lies that he expected you to tell next. Seeing you react like this just fuelled the fires of his curiosity even more.

"Must have been a very interesting conversation then, considering you two were talking for a pretty long time."

"I was sat next to her, do you expect me to have not spoken a word to her all night?"

"I mean, yeah, kinda. You aren't really known for being the biggest social butterfly. Or, a social butterfly at all." He laughed, his eyes never leaving your face. He wanted to try and make you crack even the slightest bit. Partly out of boredom, partly because he wanted to know if your conversation with Mileena had something to do with him.

"Hm, maybe I was just happy to speak to a woman for once." You responded, turning away from him with a huff.

This wasn't false, either. Ever since Liu Kang took you in, it was rare for you to ever see women. The Wu Shi Academy was very much male-dominated, the male-to-female Shaolin ratio was tragically disproportionate. Of course, you had nothing but praises to sing for your Shaolin brothers, but you couldn’t help but jump at the chance to have a chat with a woman, in a way that you couldn’t with a man.

Johnny’s eyes followed you as you turned away. He paused for a moment, taking in the new bit of information about you before speaking next.

"Mmmm, I see... so you're saying that you haven't spoken to a woman in a while then?" He asked casually, his curiosity only continuing to inflate in size and quantity.

“Tch… why do you care?" You scoffed, folding your arms and not bothering to turn and face him.

"I don't. Just making conversation." He stated simply, although it was a flat-out lie. Johnny was starting to get just a little frustrated at your constant dodging, which only added to his growing desire to find out more on what you and Mileena spoke about.

He was unfortunately successful in riling you up a little. One of the reasons you were so talkative with Mileena that night was because of him. It was the main reason, actually. You tried not to give in to Johnny's taunts, you really did, but eventually your irritation got the better of you.

“…Well, I saw you and Kitana with each other at the banquet." You whipped your head around to speak to him, such a sudden change from your previous nonchalance. Your hands were planted on your hips as you began to berate him for his careless flirtation. "You couldn't keep your hands off her!"

"Ah, so you did notice me, then.” He said smugly, watching you triumphantly.

You were silent for a moment. He had gotten you, you had inadvertently given him what he had wanted; the satisfaction that was you noticing his presence. You thought about what to say for some time, before finally voicing the words you conjured in your mind.

“…Mileena brought you up. The way you two couldn't keep your hands off of each other drew even her attention."

He let out a small snort of amusement in response. He'd successfully managed to get a rise out of you, finally. Truth be told, he wasn't at all surprised that Mileena saw them, nor did he really care. But, the news that he had been the topic of conversation between you and her was what he wanted to hear.

"Oh yeah? What'd she say?" He asked, his smirk not leaving his face as he looked down at you. You were finally starting to talk back to him instead of dodging the conversation. Finally!

"She told me of your equal recklessness." You went on, finally releasing some of your days old frustration. "She informed me of basically how everyone in the palace, save for the Empress, knows of you two and your... relations."

Johnny let out a low whistle as you went on. It’s not like he took your ranting to heart, though. If anything, he found you lecturing him like this to be somewhat endearing.

"Damn, Mileena really is a big gossip, isn't she?" He said, grinning.

You were silent again. His lack of care had truly left you speechless. If he was even the slightest bothered about the fact that him and Kitana were basically public news, he didn't let it show. Either that, or you didn't pick up on it. His dumb grin was firmly plastered on his face as he stared down at you.

Johnny's smirk only widened as he watched you struggle to string words together. Like I said, this was such a premium form of entertainment to his silly mind.

"What's wrong? Can't get the words out, can you?" He teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Oh he was really starting to piss you off. His stupid grin made you madder and madder the longer you looked at it. He really just didn't care, did he? His indifference soured your mood more than it should’ve.

"...Get away from me." You finally blurted out, turning away from him with your arms crossed to your chest and a nasty expression plastered on your face.

"Awww... but where's the fun in that, darlin'?" He said, feigning disappointment.

Of course, your unabashed temper was oh so enjoyable to him. The way your face screwed up and your lovely self, usually so proper and dignified, turned all huffy in an instant was something that he could just never get enough of. He smiled at your reaction, his grin wide and childish. But then… it faltered. There was something to your anger that was… suspicious. There was a certain flair to your irritation this time, his eyebrow raised as he noticed it. Hmm, it was almost like…

"Wait... don't tell me. Are you jealous?"

You choked on the air a little upon hearing that word. Jealous. This really threw you out of the loop. You whipped your head around to look at Johnny once again, blatant shock plastered all over your face, your eyes wide and your mouth slightly agape.

The truth was that you were indeed jealous, even if by a little bit. Such an ugly, childish emotion, something that you didn’t understand or that you couldn't even bring yourself to admit. So, what did you do in response? Deny, of course.

"Absolutely fucking not!" You practically shouted at him, outraged that he would clock you like that say such lies.

Oh you have to understand that this was absolutely priceless to him. Your loud overreaction made him feel victorious, he didn’t believe you for a second. But, he wasn't going to back down, not yet. He needed to hear you actually admit this, to confess your envy.

"Yeah? You sure 'bout that?" He let out a small laugh and took a couple of steps closer, so that you were within an arm's reach.

"By the Gods, one thousand percent!" You retorted back, stepping away from him until your back was pressed against the wall behind. His dangerously high ego boost was something that made your stomach churn, knowing that he would most likely never let up about this.

"Mm. You're lying." He muttered smugly as he inched even closer, until he was practically towering over you.

"Are you really so deluded to believe that I would be jealous of your slam piece?" You spat back at him, only temporarily looking him in the eye. Your emotions were now starting to get the better of you, and Johnny’s teasing only fanned the flames of your anger.

"Slam piece? Really?" Your not-so-veiled insult to Kitana only fuelled his smirk more. This was damn near comedy gold!

He bit back a snicker as he tilted his head to the side, leaning down to look at you, taking in how you once again refused to meet his gaze.

"Jealousy doesn't look good on you, darlin'."

You were about to say more, but a noise in the distance cut you off. You leaned to the side to look around Johnny, eyes scanning the darkness around you, curious to find the source of the sound.

In the distance, a carriage was approaching. You got a better view of horses making their way down the road as Johnny took a few steps back. A certain hooded figure was guiding the animals along the cobblestones, before eventually stopping them right in front of you two.

This must be Liu Kang's contact.

This mysterious figure stepped down from the wooden vehicle, taking a moment to address the steeds before he took down his hood. His sepia complexion, glowing blue eyes and skin indentations were instantly recognisable to you.

It was Geras!

"Johnny Cage. Jade Houzuki. It is good to see the two of you again." He turned to face you two, wearing a small but warm smile as he clasped a fist and an open hand together, bowing slightly as a greeting.

Admittedly, both you and Johnny were slightly surprised that you were to be assisted by him again. Not that either of you were complaining, though. You both liked him, he was great. There was something about the construct that was just so calming - to you, at least.

"Nice to see you too, man." Johnny responded with a nod and a friendly smile, before turning to you and with a small smirk.

"Hello, Geras." You too greeted your driver, your mood lifting at his interruption of your other partner and his general self. You didn't even react to Johnny's smirk in your peripheral vision, your attention solely focused on the much more mature man in front of you.

"Are the two of you ready to depart?" Geras asked, gesturing to the carriage behind him.

"Ready as we'll ever be." Johnny answered with a shrug, turning his attention back to Geras. He gave your shoulder a playful nudge, his body tingling in anticipation.

You just scowled at him in response, turning to glare at him before you walked over to the carriage, thanking Geras for holding the door open as you graciously entered the vehicle.

Johnny followed behind you, slipping into the carriage without missing a beat. He claimed the seat opposite you, making sure to shoot a grin your way as he crashed down onto the cushions with a sigh.

The carriage was nice and cleaned from the last time you were inside. The blood that stained and smeared the cushioned seats was all gone. Geras truly kept to his word about deep cleaning the interior, everything basically looked brand new. By now, it was dark out, so the lovely pink lanterns in the ceiling corners dimly lit the small space, creating a cozy yet comforting atmosphere.

So there you two sat. Your legs were propped up on the seat adjacent, your arms crossed to your chest. You occupied yourself by quietly looking out of the carriage window, a less-than-pleased look written all over your face.

He busied himself with his phone, wasting no time in pulling it out of his pocket and pressing it on. Johnny allowed himself to wander the digital world of social media for a little bit, right before turning his attention back to you across from him.

Your silent brooding made him chuckle. Your pronounced irritation was just what he'd wanted, something that you seemingly always failed to realise in the heat of the moment. It took him all but a few seconds to start pestering you again.

"You know, pouting isn't a good look on you."

You ignored him, all your focus was on the outside world as the carriage rolled down Sun Do’s streets.

Johnny let out an exasperated sigh. Clearly, this silent treatment wasn't going to end soon. A fact that he did not like, or accept. So, in an effort to piss you off more, he thought of something to say that he damn well knew would get him a reaction.

"So... about your little crush on Kitana..."

Ooo this was effective. Your eye twitched at the sheer brazenness of his words. In an instant, you whipped your head away from the window and towards a grinning Johnny. Your face was awash with a mixture of shock and anger, much to his childish amusement.

"My WHAT?!"

He couldn't stop himself from snickering at your reaction, nor did he make any attempt to. After he was done giggling into his hand, he looked up at you, a cheeky smirk on his face.

“Ah, your little crush on Kitana!” He repeated himself, his tone teasing and intentionally antagonising.

You’d almost reached your breaking point by now. Like Icarus, Johnny was inevitably flying too close to the sun. It was bound to happen at one point, too lucky for him that it didn't happen right this instance. No, he was on his final straw.

That stupid grin diminished a little as he saw how your face was practically red with anger, your lips thinned to reveal how hard you were gritting your teeth. In a way, it was actually kind of scary. Maybe he would give it a rest for now, just in case you really did snap and attack him, he thought.

He couldn’t, however, stop himself from making a few more playful jokes at your expense.

“Oh, why the grumpy face, princess? Cat got your tongue?"

Honestly, you almost lunged him right there and then. By the Gods, he was such a nuisance, it truly drove you crazy. But, you caught yourself, restricting your dark thoughts to your mind only. Letting your emotions get the better of you was something that you refused to do, you’d be damned if this man would be the reason for a crash out.

You shut your eyelids for a moment, taking in a long, deep breath. You tore your focus away from the little shit across from you, and poured it into extinguishing the fires of your rage. You were silent for a bit, quite literally meditating a little as you worked hard to clear your mind of the anger clouding it. Finally, after some time, your eyes flicked open.

"I'm not doing this with you." You bluntly, but calmly stated. The fire in your eyes was gone, your tone now back to its usual icy self.

"Aw, come on! You were just starting to look more lively." Johnny teased, leaning forward a small pout on his face, trying to get a reaction out of you again.

You gave a glare in response, sucking your teeth at him as your lip pulled up in irritation. You silently wondered how the hell this prick managed to successfully pull Princess Kitana of all people as you turned back to face the window.

You both sat in silence for a few minutes as the carriage trundled down Sun Do's streets. It wouldn't be until sometime in the late morning that you would arrive at the village, so you two had a whole night to themselves in the confines of the carriage. Yay.

Johnny was leaned back against his seat, his arms crossed to his chest. He sat there a little sulkily, the silence doing nothing for him. There was so much more fun to be had than just sitting there in silence like this, he was bored, restless in his seat.

And that’s when an idea popped into his head. Something that he thought might get you to talk again.

"Hey. I have a question."

You didn't say anything as you took your eyes off of the carriage window and turned towards Johnny once again. Just what was on his lewd mind now?

His smirk returned a little as you turned around, your eyes finally back on him. Your silence spoke volumes, patiently waiting for him to speak next.

…Ok, the thing was, he didn't actually have a question for you. He just wanted to recapture your attention, to interact with you in any way where words were exchanged. He couldn't help it, you were just too hot to not pester.

But, now that you were awaiting what he had to say, he had to think something. His thoughts ran wild before finally settling on one of the more appropriate logical things his mind conjured up, taking a beat before speaking.

"When did you first hear of me?" “Excuse me?” You’re confused, evidently. What did he mean?

He couldn't help but let out a small laugh at the lost look on your face. "When did you first hear of me, movie star Johnny Cage?" He repeated his question in a more straightforward way, before flashing a bright smile your way

Ah. That's what he meant. The befuddlement on your face vanished when you realised that Johnny was asking about when you first heard of Johnny Cage, the celebrity, rather than John Carlton, the person.

You looked away from him for a few minutes, trying to recall your first introduction to the actor. Such a question admittedly had you so intrigued that you forgot that you were supposed to be ignoring him.

After racking your brain for some time, you looked back to Johnny with an answer ready.

"Years ago, when my brother was a boy, he made me watch this film with him. He kept ranting and raving about this actor playing the starring role who had his name tattooed on his chest. He thought it was just about the coolest thing ever..."

The fond memories of your estranged brother made a smile bloom on your lips, one that you attempted to hide by looking down to your fiddling fingers.

Johnny watched as you spoke. Your younger brother idolising him to the point of gushing about him got an honest laugh out of him. It was cute, he always loved hearing about his younger fans.

But he truly fell silent for a few seconds when he saw that smile on your face, despite your efforts to conceal it. To see you wear an expression that was even a little more than blanket neutrality was such a rarity. Seeing your icy cold demeanour thaw out, even for a moment, was a sight that he couldn't deny being fond of. He liked it, you looked even more beautiful in his eyes.

However, because he’s still Johnny Cage, he ruined the moment by muttering: “Damn right it's cool."

Your smile fell through upon hearing his stupid comment. You looked up at him with the most deadpan of deadpan expressions. You were so over this man and the bottomless gleaming pit that was his narcissism.

"Personally, I thought it was dumb..." You started, a slight snark in your voice as you began to indirectly berate him. “…like who thinks of such a thing? He must've lost a bet, I always figured."

Johnny let out a mock-offended gasp at that. He placed a hand over his chest feigning emotional hurt as your words. Though, a small smirk shined through his expression.

"Dumb? My tattoo is not dumb!" He exclaimed, acting like a child who had been told his idea wasn't cool. After a beat, with a grin on his face, he added in a joking tone: "Also, I would never lose a bet."

"Right... because having your name permanently scribbled across your chest is totally something a sane man does.” You sarcastically replied, finding Johnny's immaturity more amusing than you should’ve.

He looked at you with a pout, one that turned into a smile as he played along with your banter.

“Tattooing my name on myself isn't insane. It's called having confidence."

Your eyes narrowed as you looked over at him, it was incredibly hard for you to take this man seriously. The mental image of Johnny's name written over his chest enabled you to recall another one of your childhood anecdotes.

"...When Hiroshi was eleven…” You started, pausing mid sentence to laugh at the memory in your mind. "...one summer, he obtained some permanent marker and scribbled his name on his chest because he wanted to, and I quote, ’look exactly like Johnny.'"

You imitated him at the end, right before breaking into a small laugh.

“See? Even your little brother knows my name! It's a memorable one." Johnny laughed, splaying out his arms dramatically.

You rolled your eyes at Johnny's arrogance once again, though it did nothing to deter your jovial mood. The banter that you two had going on at the moment was loosening you up, the rare event of a nice conversation was born between you two.

"And it wasn't until five baths later did that marker finally start to come off..." You carried on, doing nothing to hide your smile now.

“Ah, that so?” He raised his eyebrows, wearing a bright smile to match yours.

You nodded in response. The memories of Hiroshi really warmed your heart. Despite everything that happened between you two, you still loved your brother deeply. You really cherished the memories that you still held of him, it was the closest thing to family that you had left.

This was great. For him, talking like this was much more entertaining than sitting silently. The sound of you laughing was like music to his ears, your beautiful smile near-blinding. The way you spoke about your brother was heartwarming to him. Honestly, he would’ve been envious but he was too distracted by the fact that he was actually bonding with you to care.

"What were Hiroshi's favourite Johnny Cage movies?" He asked, an almost uncharacteristic tone was present in his voice, wanting the conversation to continue.

"Ninja Mine 2, Son of Dragon Fist, Ninja Priest and Cage Match were always on the television when he was growing up..." You went on, listing all of your brother’s favourite movies on your fingers as you spoke. ”I've had to watch each of them more times than l'd like to admit."

This got another laugh out of him, his eyes twinkling. “And what about you, darlin? Are you a fan of my work?"

"No." You bluntly state, not even bothering to sugarcoat the truth.

Your answer caused Johnny's smile to fade a little. Though not unexpected, your response still birthed a pang in his chest. No one would expect the pretty girl in front of him to appreciate fast paced action films. Did you only like high-brow, cheesy rom-coms or something?

"What's wrong? My movies not smart enough for your taste?" He decided to pry a little (and maybe annoy you a wee bit more).

"Your films are made for men, by men. Men like my brother who are obsessed with masculinity and all things related. Testosterone-packed action flicks are not something that women are interested in."

Johnny's mouth hung agape a little. He took your critique words as a blow to his ego, how else was he supposed to take anything that wasn’t praise? Whilst it was… true that his male fans outnumbered his female fans by a considerable amount, it didn’t soften the emotional blow! Besides, it’s not like he’s going to let your snarky ass know any of this.

"What kind of movies do women like, then? Rom-coms and dramas?" He asked, a slightly vexed expression on his face.

You shook your head disapprovingly at his mildly stereotypical words, scoffing in disbelief. Johnny’s in his thirties, how is it that he knows so little about the female population?

"Weren't you once married? You should know information like this."

And that’s when things took a bit of a turn. Johnny’s smile dropped, his expression darkened a little at your very unexpected question. He felt a pang in his chest at the mere mention of his former marriage. Though it wasn't an outright insult, his failed relationship was still a touchy subject.

"How the hell do you know about that?" He asked, his tone guarded and defensive.

"Kung Lao once told me, back at the Wu Shi." You informed him, your eyes narrowing slightly as you took note of how his demeanour changed upon the mention of his spoiled marriage. "Well, that and you're a public figure. I wouldn’t be wrong to assume that it’s widespread knowledge that you had a wife.”

He muttered a curse under his breath, lips thinning in anger as he looked away from you momentarily. He always hated it when people spoke about his separation so freely, as if it wasn’t something so deeply personal that affected both parties. Being a celebrity came with downsides, he knew that, but that knowledge did little to ease the slight emotional sting.

"Yeah, I was married. What about it?" His voice was a lot nastier than before. The exasperation in his tone was clear, Johnny damn near spat his words out at you.

He was more sensitive about this topic than you’d anticipated. You were actually a little taken aback by the way he so quickly changed from joyful to snappy. This really wasn’t something that you wanted to happen - so far, you were actually enjoying holding a civil conversation.

"I did not mean to offend. I apologise." You spoke up, voice uncharacteristically sincere.

Your cordial words surprised him, truly. He didn't think you to be the type of person who apologises for anything, especially not to him. Hearing you apologise honestly made him feel better, your heartfelt tone made his face feel a little warm with guilt.

"No… it's fine. I'm used to everyone and their mother knowing what happened. I guess I'm just still a little sensitive about it." He apologised with a sigh, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head as he looked down.

The more time you spent with Johnny alone, the more interesting of a person he became to you. Your view of the man kept altering as you discovered more and more layers to him. Besides his admittedly good looks, there was just something about Johnny that kind of drew a part of you to him.

Not that you would dare say any of this out loud, though.

"You look less like you want to punch me right now." His attempt at lightening the mood drew you out of your thoughts. Your focus landed back on him, a small smirk greeting you.

You did laugh at this. Your desire to punch him was indeed lessened right now. Dare I even say almost non-existent? You looked him up and down, your gaze lingering for a bit longer than it should've.

"You're alright, Cage."

This nearly set him off. On the outside, his smile widened by just a tiny amount. But, on the inside, his heart was thumping in his chest. Seeing that small smile on your face, that he caused, was so endearing to him, but what you said next really took the cake.

"Just 'alright’? C’mon, I expect higher praise than that! You're in the presence of a movie star, after all." He responded, shooting a wink your way as the cherry on top.

Alright. Once again, he had pushed his luck a little too far. Your smile quickly dropped at the unwelcome return of his arrogance. He just couldn't hold it off for five minutes, could he?

"By the Gods..." You groan, rolling your eyes as you lean further back in your seat.

“What?” He teased, leaning forward a little. “Is me being a movie star not doing it for you, darlin'?"

"Not in the slightest."

Your denial felt like a jab to his chest How were you this stubborn?! He's THE Johnny Cage! Most women would kill to be in your position - you do understand that, right?

He was so used to women throwing themselves at him when rambled about his movies or his martial arts prowess. To have a beauty like you not care for his fame was such a new experience for him. In a way, this caught his attention more than mindless screaming fans ever did. To him, capturing your affection was a challenge, and Johnny Cage never loses.

"So, if I'm not charming you with my big screen career, how do I get you to like me?" He tried once again to pry at you, maybe a little needer than necessary.

"Not a chance in all the realms, Cage." You responded with certainty in your tone. No, his dumb flirting would never win you over, the chances were so low that the probability of him actually seducing you was in the negatives. You chose to further ignore that warm and gushy feeling in your stomach that would flare up whenever you looked at him and his stupid sculpted features for a bit too long, deciding that it’ll make it exit sometime soon.

You would never in a million years fall for Johnny Cage, and you were so sure of this that you would actually rather not think of such foolishness anymore.

Speaking of, he leaned back in his seat, folding his arms as he looked over at you with a defiant smile. He was determined to win you over, even if it killed him.

"Never say never, Jade."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It's now the peak of the night, and all is silent.

Even at this late hour, the carriage was still on its way to this village. Geras estimated that you would arrive sometime in the late morning/early afternoon, if the journey was uninterrupted.

By now, the carriage had long since departed Sun Do, the vehicle was deep in Outworld's countryside. This night was moonless, so it was completely pitch black outside. The only thing visible in the area was the little lamp lit beside Geras's seat, something that aided him in see through the darkness.

Of course, the interior is now significantly darker, intensified by the lack of street lights in Outworld's hinterlands. The four small lanterns that hung in the ceiling corners thankfully provided some illumination inside the carriage, casting a nice low light for anyone awake at this hour.

Speaking of awake, this is something that Johnny was surprisingly not. He nodded off a couple of hours ago, he’d been in a deep sleep since. His body was slumped against the wall, light snores slipping from his slightly parted lips every now and then. The way his head was tipped down slightly would certainly ensure that he would wake up with a crick in his neck.

The same couldn’t be said for you, however. The opposite applied here, actually. You couldn't sleep, for some damned reason. No matter how many times you tossed and turned on your seat cushions, you were just was unable to fall unconscious!

Sitting up with a huff, you looked around the carriage with the intent to find something to pass the time. You couldn't gaze out of the window because it was pitch black outside, which was annoying. You didn't bring anything with you on this mission aside from the bare essentials, which was something that you mentally cursed yourself for upon realisation. You couldn't even pass the time by talking to Johnny, he was fast asleep! What were you to do...

Your companion remained fast asleep against the wall, blissfully unaware of your minor problems. He would mumble some incoherent words in his sleep every now and then, without a care in the world. His eyes twitched a little as whatever he was dreaming about played in his mind.

Well, this was dull. You spent some time of looking around the carriage, desperate to find something to dull your boredom. When nothing came up, you just resorted to try and fall back asleep again, as hard at it may be… but that’s when your eyes landed on a sleeping Johnny.

The way he was positioned, the small lamps above casted a pink low light on his sleeping body. It illuminated his features perfectly, you couldn't help but take notice. He looked so... peaceful. Your eyes focused, staring at his sharp jawline and his sculpted form. The way his nose would crinkle a little every time he breathed in made you unintentionally lean in a little closer. The way his perfect lips were slightly parted so he could shallowly breathe made him look even more attractive.

Ugh, there was that stupid warm feeling again.

His pretty eyelashes fluttered as he dreamt peacefully. He looked so different when he was resting, none of the suffocating overconfidence was present. His body moved in tandem with his steady breathing, his chest rising and falling under the material of his uniform, completely unaware that someone was staring at him with such intrigued eyes.

You were quiet now, careful to not disturb his rest. The way the soft, low light casted a certain glow on his features and body made him look almost like something out of a painting, like something beautiful and untouchable. This was not something that eluded you.

He looked so pretty... like a work of art displayed in a museum. His face was framed by the tousled brown hair that fell gracefully over his forehead. The dim lights overhead cast a pink hue on his skin, highlighting the defined lines of his jaw and the curve of his biceps.

For a while, you just... sat there. Silently analysing a resting Johnny. As much as he got on your nerves, you couldn't help but be captivated by him. His beautiful, picturesque features under the carriage's faint lighting had you practically entranced. The way he was positioned in this moment could easily be compared to a marble statue, his form looking like it was chiseled from stone. He was such a beautiful specimen, a figure meant to be immortalised in art.

That stupid warm feeling only grew in intensity.

A/N: again, thank you for reading!! another reminder that the story is nowhere near done yet. i literally have so many plans for this, you’d swear i don’t have a life outside of the internet(i don’t). many chapters will come, when i say that i can’t wait to share them all, believe it!!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 2023 #johnny cage #johnny cage smut #mortal kombat smut #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x you #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat x reader #johnny and jade

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misspelledwordswizard · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter 22 - It's good to be able to sleep again

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I woke up with the sun on my face, bothering me enough to wake me from my previously desired sleep. Opening my eyes, I was blinded by the direct light and blamed myself for my stupidity. I ran my hands over my face, trying to shake off the sleep that was haunting me, as I sat up in bed. I looked around the room, it took me a while to start processing the information, where I was and what had happened, so intense was my nap.

It was then that I saw Time, sitting in an armchair, not far from me, calmly reading a book. Suddenly the memories of the previous night came flooding back, making me want to bury my face in a hole in shame. I feel humiliated, I cried like a baby and revealed such personal things, and yet he stayed by my side and welcomed me. I am very grateful for that, but I can’t help but think that it was a little strange to talk to him, now that he knows my secrets.

— Good morning, did you sleep well? – The older man’s voice caught my attention again. – You seemed calm while you were sleeping, even smiling, so I guess there wasn’t a nightmare, huh?

I felt my cheeks heat up as the blond gave me a smug smile. Bastard, he’s making fun of me this morning after all the things I told him, that's evil, Time! Sometimes I forget that behind that older man’s posture he’s still that brat who likes to tease. The mangas were right.

— Yes, I slept well. – His soft laughter at my answer only fueled my sullen face, which was probably the reason for the joke. – Thank you, Link. I don’t know what I would have done without you.

The sudden seriousness in my voice, along with a certain melancholy, made a striking contrast with the previous mood of the room. When I looked back at the hero, I could see him with a sincere and comforting smile that calmed my nerves.

— Sure, dear, I’m here for you, anytime. – He said and then stood up, putting the book aside and stretching after having spent so much time in the same position. – Now, you don’t have to worry about that, okay? I’ll be downstairs, come down when you feel ready.

I watched him as he left my room, leaving me alone with my intrusive thoughts, which I blocked as quickly as I could. Time is an incredible man. He’s loving, caring, strong and protective, whoever his beloved is, she’s a very lucky woman.

I sighed, feeling more relaxed than I had in a long time, all that accumulated fatigue had had certain effects, I can see, and this rest was more than welcome. Opening the window and letting more light in, I was graced by the warmth of the sun that reached me, I could also see that it was high in the sky. Damn, I slept too much, it must be about ten 'clock in the morning. I left the room, after checking my appearance and fixing my hair, and went down the stairs of the academy, only to bump into Wind on the way. Literally, because he came out of the room just as I was passing by and we ended up bumping into each other.

— Ah, you’re finally awake! – He said excitedly. – Everyone has already eaten, but I can keep you company in the kitchen if you want, I have nothing to do anyway.

The boy said and shrugged, he spent the last few days exploring Skyloft, but I think this place is a bit small for someone with his adventurous spirit, he must be dying of boredom. I couldn’t help but laugh lightly at the thought of it, and also since he was proposing to spend time with me instead of his brothers, that’s cute, so I don’t feel so alone either.

Heading to the aforementioned place, I was surprised to see that one of the boys was still there. In one of the corners, distracted by something he was reading, was Legend. I thought he hadn’t even noticed our presence, so I was taken aback when I heard him talking to us, still without looking away from the book. God, is this place boring enough that Links would suddenly become interested in reading?

— Sky has already taken Warriors to the surface, the next one to go when he returns will be Rancher.

My attention turned to him, more focused on the information itself than on the boy himself. So, they’ve already started going down, huh? I can’t help but feel a little strange about all this, I think I was already getting used to the calm of Skyloft, to think that now we’ll have to go back to walking for hours without stopping, dealing with monsters and whatever else comes, it’s kind of distressing.

I mean, I was learning to deal with all this before, but this time of peace ended up unaccustoming me and I went back to square one of the whole thing. Suddenly, an anxiety at the thought of others ending up discovering my secret also hit me, especially if it happens during a moment of tension down there. I hope Time really is right, and knows the best way to do this.

— You... – The Veteran’s voice caught my attention again, while Wind went to the kitchen to look for food, oblivious to the conversation. – Time stayed in your room all night, and only came out a little while ago...

As soon as he spoke, I could notice a certain irritation in his voice, my brain worked to process this statement, and I finally understood what he was really asking, blushing like a tomato and completely indignant at this suggestion.

— What!? I was having trouble sleeping, okay? The old man just helped me with that. – I felt myself getting sulky about it, and the blond just snorted and turned his face away at my answer.

— If that was all, you should have asked for my help, I know what it’s like not to be able to sleep, it would have been much more useful.

— If you want to know, I didn’t even ask for his help either, he offered it himself and didn’t let me refuse...

I found myself saying this, a little quieter and calmer than before. Why the hell am I trying to explain myself? I just snorted and walked away from him, it’s too early for this. I mean, not that early, but I just woke up so I don’t feel like it either.

I just gave up on talking to this complicated boy and went to the kitchen, looking for something that could satisfy my hunger and end Wind’s munchies, who even after breakfast still wanted to eat something else.

◇

The sun was shining high in the sky, and it felt warm on my skin as I walked around the lake with the Sailor. I had seen some of the boys walking along the path, apparently, they were just as bored as we were, so it was no surprise when I saw the Champion and the Traveler approaching where we were.

— Good morning, did you get any rest? I saw that you seemed tired yesterday. – Rulie, who I hadn’t seen yet today, said with an empathetic smile.

— Oh, yes, I had the best night’s sleep in ages! – I found myself saying with a silly smile. It’s amazing how being rested puts me in a good mood.

— That’s good, because soon we won’t have the opportunity to rest so well for a while. – Wild commented, kind of complaining about what was coming next.

I laughed a little, hiding how disappointed I was about it too, and turned to see what the child was doing, only to find him poking around in the dirt looking for bugs. I’m sure it was Sky’s influence. What am I going to do with this kid? Early in the morning and he’s already getting dirty.

— Wind, take your hand off the floor, you’re going to get all dirty! – I complained, like a nagging mother, making him startle a little at my sudden call and get up, wiping his hands on his clothes.

— Oh, it’s okay, I’m not even clean, I’ll take a bath when we get back to the academy – The blond answered me, as he came back to me.

— What? When was the last time you took a bath?!

— Hm, yesterday... no, it was the day before yesterday! – He answered while thinking, trying to remember, leaving me completely indignant.

I pulled him by the arm closer to me and smelled his hair, which just by looking at it I could tell how dirty it was. The smell was terrible, worse than I had imagined. I know that children in general tend to be lazy about taking showers and such, but who in their right mind can stay dirty and smelling like that for so long? Oh dear, these heroes of the past are unaware of the importance of good hygiene.

— Ew, boy, you look disgusting! – I complained and he even had the audacity to laugh at my reaction. – Lord, have mercy...

Before he could react, I grabbed him under the arms, lifting him into the air momentarily and then threw him into the lake next to me, making him let out a cry of surprise. Proud of my attitude, I held my hands, as if I were cleaning the dust, with a sense of job done, at least until I heard laughter coming from beside me.

I turned to look at the two boys who were laughing at the youngest, that is until I pulled Wild closer too and sniffed his hair, making him stop laughing when he noticed my disgusted face.

— Look, we can do this for better or for worse, the choice is all yours...

Before I could finish, the boy was already taking off his boots and jumping into the lake too, along with the third of them who followed his brother’s wise example. Good. Very good, I’m not going to spend time around smelly people. These heroes, now just because you have a world to save doesn’t mean you can do it smelling bad!

The sound of laughter ended up catching the attention of Four, who was passing by at the time. He stopped next to me while judging his brothers without understanding the reason for all this. In order not to break character, I pulled the short boy closer and smelled his hair just like I did with the others. It was no surprise to me that he smelled super good. The Blacksmith is very clean and organized, when he’s not all sweaty after working in the forge, but I didn’t want to miss the opportunity. Before he could question my strange actions, I repeated what I had done with Wind, grabbing him by the arms and quickly throwing him into the lake, making him let out a surprised little scream while I laughed immaturely.

Well, since we’re in this situation anyway, I guess there’s no harm in participating. Following the example of the last three, I took off my shoes and threw myself into the lake, being graced by the cold water that hit my skin, bringing great relief on this hot sunny day.

The three started to take it more as a joke. Well, this wouldn’t be much of a bath considering it’s a lake, they went in fully clothed and will probably only come out smelling like wet dogs – no offense to Wolfie – but at least it will force them to take a full bath as soon as they leave here. In a short time, this game in the lake ended up turning into a mess of water being splashed everywhere, fun attacks, swimming competitions or even who splashed the most water when jumping back into the lake, between the Champion and the Sailor, while I and the other two acted as judges. The rest of the afternoon was spent like this, before I decided it was time to leave and force everyone to go back to take a hot shower and avoid a collective cold.

◇

— Rupee for your thoughts? – I said as I approached Time, outside the academy.

It was night, I had gone out to get some air before dinner, it was then that I came across the hero of time outside, observing the night landscape with a thoughtful and worried expression. I hadn’t seen him since morning, I was really getting worried, worried if something had happened, or maybe that the reason for his distance was everything that happened yesterday.

His blue eyes turned to me. He didn’t seem surprised, nor uncomfortable with my presence, but that didn’t make him seem any less thoughtful than before. I don’t know how, but he seemed to read my thoughts and worries, giving me a reassuring smile as I got closer.

— Hm, there are a lot of them, are you sure you want to hear them?

— Don’t think you can get rid of me so easily, old man.

— Hm, right. That’s the last thing I’d want.

— So, what’s bothering you?

Silence prevailed for a moment, the older man’s expression hardening, followed by a tired sigh.

— You know, that night I had time to think about everything, with all the things you told me, there was a lot to fit in and process, luckily, I had plenty of time for that.

— Thank my heavy sleep then. – I heard him laugh at my unfunny joke, and that alone made it worth it.

— Yeah, it was really welcome at the time. A lot of things started to make sense after that, the fact that the Shadow was so interested in you, the attacks, maybe that was even the reason why we met. But there’s still something there. I feel like there’s something big behind this. I can’t imagine that the only reason you’re involved in this is because you know us, especially because, from what you told me, a lot of other people do the same, right?

I nodded, confirming the information. He’s right, I’ve caught myself thinking about it several times, since I reincarnated, actually. Why me? Of all the people, of all the big Zelda fans, what makes me different from them? When I saw that I wouldn’t get any answers, I just gave up, but thinking about it now, maybe I’m closer than ever to those much-acclaimed answers. And even so, I’m still very far from them.

— Well, trust me, don’t rack your brains trying to find logic in this, I’ve spent my whole life doing this and haven’t gotten any results. But, from what I’ve seen recently, the best thing to do is keep going, eventually things will start to fall into place.

— Yes... I think you’re right. But I can’t help but worry, especially when it could mean you’re in danger. – He sighed, straightening his tense posture. – Well, I guess I’ll just have to double the amount of care I have for you then. Get ready for at least two of us to keep an eye on you at all times!

— Oh, Noooo! – I dramatized, earning a sincere laugh from the man.

— Just kidding, dear. I’m not going to invade your privacy. Well, I can’t say the same about the others, they can be quite nosy when they want to be.

— Well, then I think it’s best to keep all this as confidential as possible, hm?

— Yeah, it’ll be our little secret. – I felt shy with the wink Time sent me. Unfortunately for me, this guy is a natural born tease, and I have a weakness for handsome men.

— Now, since you mentioned last night, shouldn’t you be sleeping now, sir?

— Nah, I slept the whole afternoon.

— Ah

That explains why I haven’t seen you all day. Come to think of it, I’m not going to sleep any time soon either, considering how late I woke up. Although the day was tiring, after swimming for so long it’s no surprise that I fell right to sleep the moment my head hit the pillow. Oh, who would have thought, I guess it actually worked.

— Time, I don’t think I’ve been able to thank you enough yet. – He shook his head in denial, as if it were no big deal. – No, seriously. I hadn’t noticed until now, but all that irrational fear of sleeping and dreaming that was haunting me has gone away, I don’t feel anxious when I think about going to sleep anymore, thanks to you... Thank you, really.

— That was nothing, I didn’t even do anything. And don’t minimize your pain like that, your fear was completely fair. Know that if something like that happens again, you can come straight to me, I’ll take care of you. – I could feel the sincerity in his voice, which only made me even more grateful. – And besides, the experience wasn’t bad at all, you look cute dreaming, you know?

I playfully patted his shoulder, reprimanding him for all his teasing, while he just laughed at my reaction. Yeah, it really is great to get to know this side of Time. He acts like we’ve been friends for a long time, and that’s nice, it’s comforting. I found myself caught in his gaze, his beautiful blue eyes staring at me so intensely, there under the moonlight, he seemed so ethereal. Suddenly he was no longer Time, the leader of the group, an imposing man, a strong and serious hero. He was Link, a friend, a confidant to whom I could reveal my secrets and who I knew would help me, not as a hero who helps everyone, but as someone I care about and who is there for me when I need it. I hope he can see me that way too.

Both of our attention was cut off by the sound of the door opening right behind us, making us pull away and look back in surprise. There, standing in the doorway, was the Veteran, he looked at us for a moment, his lips parted, as if he was going to say something, but nothing came out, instead he just scowled sullenly as he looked at us, getting irritated for some reason.

— The Cook said to let you know that the food is ready, hurry up! – He said, entering again and slamming the door behind him.

— Geez, what’s gotten into him? – I commented and Time just sighed tiredly.

— Sometimes I don’t even understand. We better go in quickly, before he comes back even angrier.

#link x reader #linked universe x reader #linked universe #tloz #linked universe fanfic #lu x reader #legend of zelda #x reader

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