#but i clearly find it unusual to the point of distraction. i really have to like. Adjust. so it's not jumping out at me constantly

[prlssprfctn]

It is no secret that Jason Todd has a soft spot for kids. His family knew it for a while, figured by the way he always changed the intonation of his grumbling voice around them, and stopped to help them out with whatever was puzzling their little, chaotic minds.

But it is still so unusual for them to see Jason actually acting soft around random kids.

So, when Dick accidentally walks on Jason and a little crying kid in the alleyway, during the patrol, he... freezes a little. There is something absolutely cute in a way big bad Red Hood kneels in front of the kid, while animatedly telling some stupid, funny story with all sounds effects rolling down his tongue, and big gestures. The kid giggles, gasps, and eventually stops crying, wrapping little arms around "brother's Hood" neck. Jason gets grumpier when he notices Dick staring at them, but that's fine. It is still cute-cute.

The next week, Tim stumbles across Red Hood, distracting a homeless boy scared of explosions by playing with him. When the boy jokingly hits him on the shoulder, Red Hood dramatically falls on the ground, gripping his "wound," and Tim can't help but stifle a laughter along with a boy.

Barbara listens through the comms as Red Hood hums some lullaby to a girl, he saved from Black Mask's goons. Damian catches Red Hood taking off his helmet for a toddler to stop crying at the sight of an unknown big guy around.

But the point stands: Jason always finds a way to protect kids, and that's something they all are used to.

...They just don't expect kids to protect Red Hood.

When Jason gets hit with a fear toxin — again — and Bruce figures out that he mindlessly, in a total state of panic, went to the Crime Alley, Bruce is... alarmed. None of them handle fear toxin well, but Jason has guns on him, and his memories are the worst. He practically sprints to the location Jason's tracker is, and... stops in the tracks.

Jason is here, full in his armour, curled in the dark, dirty alleyway with kids surrounding him. There tenths — maybe more of them — and they are trying to calm shivering and panicked Red Hood down. A little girl pats him on the helmet, and another boy hugs him gently. They all murmur something, debating about what to do, and Bruce needs a good minute to remember why is he even here.

'Hey!' Some kid from the crowd notices him first, instantly frowning. 'Back off from there. Don't touch brother Hood.'

Bruce doesn't know whether he should laugh or cry.

'I... I am here to help,' he softens his voice. 'Don't worry, kiddo. Thanks for keeping him safe, but—'

'Uh-uh,' the girl glares at him under uneven bangs while shaking her finger in the air. 'We don't trust you. Back off.'

...Jesus, surely Bruce remember times when kids were scared of him, but this is the first time they are actually so bold around him. And it is definitely the first time someone stops him from taking care of his own kid.

Kids from this side of town are really built differently.

'I—'

'Hey,' some taller teenager runs towards them, slightly out of breath as he shakes a can in his hand, addresing his next question to other kids: 'I bought his favourite beer. Do you think it is going to help?'

Should he be concerned that kids on the streets know Jason's favourite beer and bought it despite them being... clearly not of the age of drinking? Probably. Is it also a little bit amusing that they think alcohol would help? Yeah.

'I have an antidote,' Bruce clears his throat. 'I just need to inject it, alright? Please, trust me. I am here to help.'

They all exchange questioning glances between each other. Jason is still pretty much out of it, muttering some nonsense under his breath, shaking as a leaf — not crowbar, not again, please — but when a little girl in dress asks him if he wants to see Batman, his eyes clear just for a split second, before he mouths a small, scared Dad.

By the end of the day, when Jason falls asleep, recovering from the toxin, and kids finally seem to trust Batman enough not to hurt their big brother and let them go, Barbara and Dick tease Bruce non-stop about how kids humbled him. Still, Bruce feels a strange softness settling in his chest.

Maybe he wasn't always here to protect Jason. Maybe he still fails to do it sometimes, not knowing what to do with his son, but... at least Jason still has someone in this world, someone so loyal and loving.

So, yeah. Jason Todd is great at defending kids. But so are they.

[mlobsters]

person of interest s1e14 wolf and cub

sitting here examining why i felt the momentary compulsion to make gifs out of this rather nothing little interaction and i'm coming around again to blaming silver fox man's delivery. that whispery voice and those changes in pitch engender the impression of intimacy/fondness (to me) even though his face doesn't necessarily match. man is an enigma

one day i'll get his name memorized but today is not that day

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - mentions of kidnapping/imprisonment, implied alcohol consumption, and reader referred to as 'mother'/'mom' but otherwise gender-neutral.

You let yourself into Arlecchino’s study exactly four strokes after midnight. Even from the doorway, she could see the crimson stain of wine on your lips, the tell-tale lilt to your posture. Clearly, your chosen habitat that night had been the House of the Hearth’s wine cellar – a not completely unusual pastime of yours, on its own. The fact that you were coming to her after drinking your fill was more notable.

She allowed you to stumble from the doorway to her desk before ever glancing up from the correspondence she was attempting to will herself to finish. Whichever one of her vintages you’d favored, it must’ve given you the strength to withstand the weight of the gaze you were always so quick to shy away from, the courage to all-but lay yourself across the crowded tabletop. Despite your new dauntlessness, your expression was sullen, your eyes glassy with tears yet to flow over. It was a face she was used to seeing in the confines of her chambers, or better yet, on the edge of her knee as she kept you perched in her lap through an otherwise dull meeting. Familiarity alone might’ve been enough to soften her, had she had any idea as to the source of your apparent distress.

 You didn’t speak until you were settled. Arlecchino remained patient, limiting herself to a slight smile and the melodic drumming of pointed nails against polished mahogany. “Peruere,” you drawled, her given name a honey-sweet slur on your tongue. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“I see.” It took every ounce of her impressive self-restraint not to laugh aloud. “What a shame. Remind me exactly what it is we can’t do, love?”

“I can’t do this.” You gave a sweeping gesture, nearly violent enough to knock yourself off-balance. “It’s not you—I mean, it is you, with the kidnapping and imprisonment and all, but aside from that, I just—” A deep, shuddering breath, followed shortly by a pitchy, almost keening noise. “I’m just not ready to be a mother.”

This time, Arlecchino couldn’t stop herself – a single, breathy chuckle slipping past her lips. Your frowned deepened, and she did her best to sober quickly. “I’m sorry, I—” She steepled her fingers in front of her, leaning forward to rest her chin on the point of intersection. “I suppose I wasn’t aware you were going to be.”

If you heard, you clearly weren’t listening. Rather unceremoniously, the glass splintered; your thin veneer of composure falling away as the first tear broke free, shortly followed by a second, then a third. She lost count somewhere around the dozenth. “It’s not that I don’t love your children,” you started, your voice cracking as you struggled to wipe at your eyes between words. “I mean, I love them all in spite of them being yours, which is actually really impressive because I find you so unbearably off-putting to be around, but— I’m sorry, I’m just not ready for this level of responsibility. There’s… how many? Fifty of them? Two hundred?”

“My love.” She pushed herself to her feet, dulling her voice into the softest, smoothest possible coo. “Isn’t it about time for you to retire for the night?”

“How could you possibly want to go to sleep at a time like this?” You were sobbing now, rather unabashedly. All attempts to maintain your dignity had been laid aside in favor of burying your face in your palms and hanging your head almost pitifully low. “I have five hundred kids to take care of!”

Whether you were too distracted to notice her arms wrapping around you or simply too panicked to care, it would’ve been impossible to say. You failed to protest as she pulled you against her chest, only sniffling miserably and burying your face in her coat. “You seem to have forgotten that ‘Father’ is only a title,” she murmured as gently as she could, letting her lips brush against the top of your head, then your tear-stained cheek. “Most of my children have already grown out of the need for a true mother and father, and I doubt those who haven’t view either of us in a very paternal light. Do you understand?”

There was a delay, but she felt you nod against her chest. Arlecchino could only sigh, already moving to exit her study. “Let’s get you to bed, dear.”

~

You were still unconscious by the time she rose the next morning, no doubt putting off the inevitable hangover. She left you where you lied and, after making sure a pitcher of water would be waiting for you when you woke up, went about her obligations.

It was only a few hours later that, during a conversation with Lyney, he seemed to pause, to glance to either side. Whatever he’d planned to say was quickly forgotten in favor of a new tangent. “I don’t think I’ve seen mom yet, today.”

At that, Arlecchino perked up. “Mom?”

He caught himself quickly, straightening. “Mother, I mean. (Y/n). My apologies, Lynette's disregard must be rubbing off on me.”

She took a moment to purse her lips, to do what she often did best and consider the information that’d been laid at her feet. “Lyney,” she said, eventually, when she’d made up her mind.

“Next time you use that name, make sure your mother is within earshot.”

[overtail]

Sick - Sokka x Reader 🔞

🪃💢

Summary: Sokka gets hurt after (Y/N) distracts him during a battle, setting off an argument. They make up in an... unusual way..

Reader Info: Female, Non bender, competitive

Warning: NSFW, Cursing, slight sexism, rough sex, underage, oral, fingering, both subs because they're teens for gods sake

A/N: This is my first time writing smut......

...

(Y/N) sat next to Katara as the light from the campfire reflected onto her face, creating a warm glow against her skin. She picked a piece off of her cod flounder, throwing it in her mouth and chewing quietly.

Aang and Katara were chatting, Toph Joining in every few seconds. They were talking about something aimless -- a conversation they wont remember in a week's time.

The air was uncomfortable, especially with Sokka's glaring. Every so often, (Y/N) would glance across the way, only to see Sokka giving her a nasty side eye.

She was getting tired of it -- she wasn't one to take disrespect like that. Sokka may think that he was some big, strong, scary man, but (Y/N) could make him cower with one yell.

"Right, (Y/N)?"

Katara elbowed her, bringing (Y/N) out of her brooding.

"What?"

She looked to the ground with embarrassment from the lack of listening. Katara isn't one to care, but there was still the shame.

"Oh, me and Aang were just-"

She began, looking down at my slumped over figure. Before she could finish, she was interrupted.

"She's probably thinking about how to sabotage me again."

(Y/N) looked up at Sokka as was barking out the rude comment, rolling his blue eyes. Katara crooked her neck to glance at him too, raising a brow at his remark. (Y/N)'s eyebrows furrowed, head tilting to the side teasingly.

"What did you just say to me Sokka?"

She knew damn well what he said. She just wanted to know if he had the balls to repeat himself. Sokka stood up walking, a bit closer to the log that (Y/N) and Katara were sat.

"I said.."

(Y/N) got up, making her way over to Sokka.

"You're probably thinking about how you're going to sabotage me again."

(Y/N) scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Sabotage you? Why can't you just accept that you suck at fighting?"

She barked back, leaning closer to him. She poked his chest, pushing him back a little bit. (Y/N) looked at the black eye he had gained from the 'sabotage'.

"Oh no, no, no. Do you find joy in my pain?"

Sokka avoided the question, turning his head to the side. (Y/N) shook her head in disbelief, looking at her feet and back up at Sokka again.

She pushed him back, emiling angrily.

"At this point, i really do. Your face looks better with that black eye."

(Y/N) teased, pointing at his purple bruise. Sokka just scoffed, pushing her back. He didn't care one bit that she was a girl -- that was clearly established when she said she was better than him.

"You're just jealous. Jealous you're a horrible person, sick girl who doesn't know how to get better."

(Y/N) was actually taken aback by this, like she was being stabbed in the back by his words. She heard a gasp from Katara, and a light giggle from Toph. (Y/N) grinned. She began to laugh, looking at Katara and to Aang. Sokka looked at her cautiously, watching as she laughed like a crazy person, tears running down her red cheeks.

"Jealous? Me? Jealous of you? I'd have to be the most pathetic person to want to be like you, Sokka."

(Y/N) walked past him, into the wall of trees that was behind him. She kept on laughing, shaking her head in disbelief at the words. She didn't quite know how to feel, but she just wanted to be left alone. To cry and scream in her faraway tent, to drown in her emotions.

But of course, Sokka had to always get the last word in.

She heard his footsteps getting louder and louder as her laughing faded into soft cries, her legs shaking as she tried to get to her tent as fast as possible. She needed to hide away, and she didn't want Sokka out of all people to see her broken heart.

"(Y/N), this isn't over!"

Somka said, grabbing onto her bicep. She ripped her arm from his grasp, avoiding talking to him. Tent. Get to your tent.

"(Y/N)! Come on-"

She tried to ignore his calling as much as she could, reaching out to the entrance of her tent. Before she could unclasp the buttons, she was whipped around, coming face to face -- well, face to chest -- with Sokka.

She looked up to his face, face full of rage. Somka had never seen her like this before, even while fighting the people she hated most.

"What could you possibly need to say that is so important you need to follow me to my fucking tent!"

(Y/N) yelled, her eyes shutting tightly. A few furious tears escaped her glossy eyes, falling onto the dirt in front of her feet.

"You know, you're a real piece of work (Y/N).."

"Guess what? You make me SICK Sokka!"

"Can you just shut up already?"

She scoffed, pushing Sokka once again. He stepped closer to her, reaching behind her neck and bringing her close.

"I'll give you another black eye-"

"Just shut up!"

Before she could react, before she could say the next rude comment, Sokka's warm lips crashed into her's. She didn't even have time to react, only instinctively leaning into his touch.

(Y/N) felt Sokka's hands fall from the tape of her neck to her lower back, bringing their flush bodies together.

She reached up to grab his shoulders, bringing him down so he was pushing against her even more. Before they both ran out of air, Sokka broke the connection, quickly leaning back and his face growing red.

"I'm so sorry (Y/N)-"

(Y/N) reached up, gracing her fingers across her lips in surprise. She wasn't even looking at him, just at her chest rising up and down slowly. She glanced up, watched as Sokka stammered out an apology.

"It's.. It's fine."

She was also red, smiling nervously at his gaze.

"I mean if it wasn't.. i wouldn't have kissed back."

(Y/N) looked to the ground bashfully, which was such a strange sight for Sokka. She was abrasive, aloof, and very strong hearted -- but this, this was different. And he didnt quite know how to feel about it.

Sokka stepped forward slowly, reaching up to place his palm on her face. He brought her chin up, looking to the ground on his left. God, he was nervous. What was he doing?

(Y/N) looked at him, smirking slightly. She was back, and Sokka felt a flutter in his stomach.

This time, the kiss was soft, slow, and tender. It was much more calm, which was good for both of them.

"Do you want to go inside my tent?"

(Y/N) said in a semi whisper, raising both of her brows. Sokka nodded, not quite knowing where this would go. (Y/N) let go of him, turning to unclasp the entrance of the tent behind them. She crouched down, stepping into the flaps and disappearing into the tent. Sokka stood there for a moment, trying to process what was really going on. This was something from his dreams; the nights he stayed up with his hands in his pants, whimpering her name as images flashed through his mind.

Sokka got on his knees, shuffling into the tent. As he glanced into the warmly lit place, he was surprised to see (Y/N) shrugging her shirt off, her shoulder exposed as well as her bra.

"Oh- sorry-"

(Y/N) laughed, turning around to grab his hand before he laughed.

"I'm doing this so you can see, stupid."

Sokka blushed, nodding his head cautiously. He sat on the felt that lined the floor of the tent. Rubbing his hands over the familiar feeling over the cloth, his attention was caught by a cold hand on his shoulder. He looked up, only to see (Y/N) nervously sitting on her knees in front of him in her undergarments.

"Oh.. oh spirits.."

He said, drinking in her body. His eyes glanced over every curve, every perfect imperfection, every freckles and every mole. He smiled, looking at her onxe again before giving her a deep kiss.

The two leaned back onto the make-ship bed, his hands caressing her sides. (Y/N) tugged at his shirt, causing him to break the kiss.

"You okay?"

Sokka didn't really know what he was doing. Hes only kissed a few girls before, like Suki or Yue, even girls back at home, but anything past that was untouched territory.

"You think you should take your clothes off? At least the over clothes."

(Y/N) suggested nervously, smiling softly. Somka let out a quick 'oh yeah', before leaning back and taking his shirt off. He kicked off his boots, taking his pants off. He shuffled his shirt off.

When he looked back down at (Y/N) he saw that she wasn't quite staring at his face, or even his chest. It was just a quick glare, but he knew what she was looking at.

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that.."

The painful warmth in his crotch only grew more at the sight of her looking at his erection. She just laughed slightly, rolling her eyes.

"It's a good thing, Sokka."

Sokka smiled, shuffling over to where (Y/N) laid. He dipped down, his lips being placed against hers in an instant. He gripped her waist, dragging her closer to his hips.

The kisses were messy, sloppy with spit and their tongues lapping the sides of each others mouths. Both Sokka and (Y/N) wanted more; no, needed more.

"Sokka, can we try something?"

(Y/N) whispered against his lips, and was only greeted with an eager nod. She grabbed one of his hands that was on her waist, bringing it over to her crotch. He placed it on her underwear, not quite knowing what to do.

She grabbed the side of her panties, moving it to the side to expose her. Sokka's eyes widened at the sight, it being the opposite of what he expected. He looked over the folds, the bud at the top, and of course, the inviting entrance. She swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand.

"Okay so.."

(Y/N) grabbed his hand, making a fist with his fingers. She grabbed his ring finger, showing it to him.

"You want to put this in there."

She gestures to her hole, which was wet with her slick.

"O-okay."

Sokka stuttered out. (Y/N) let go of his hand, and he took a deep breath. The tip of his finger grazed the entrance, before quickly delving into her. He eyes widened, thighs almost closing at the intrusion.

"So, you're gonna want to curl-"

Before she could finish her sentence, Sokka curled his finger, his long digit reaching the right spot. (Y/N) let out an unexpected moan, slapping her hand over her face. Sokka grew harder at the sight, and then did it again. She was more quiet this time, but the sound still made him feel amazing. After a few minutes, she was a squealing mess. Without asking, Sokka added his middle finger, causing (Y/N) to moan aggressively.

The sound was amazing, like something you could listen to over and over again and never get tired of it. He repeated the motions, eliciting groans from her sweet mouth.

(Y/N) began to grow aware of Sokka's painful erection, and no matter how good this felt, she knew this would feel better. She grabbed his wrist, which woke him up from his trance.

"Do you want to.."

She said, looking at his member. Sokka blushed, nodding quickly. He removed his fingers from her, glancing up before grabbing the band of his boxers. He slipped them off, and felt the relief of the cold air on him.

(Y/N) was staring. Staring hard. Was he too small? Did he not look right? Was there something wrong?

"Holy.."

Sokka had a good 6 inches on him, which was great for a teenager. (Y/N) was pulsing at the sight of him, her slick dripping down her ass.

"Okay, so.."

(Y/N) sat up, moving so she was on her hands and knees and her ass was facing Sokka.

"I think this is how you do it."

Sokka nodded. This was the most quiet shes ever heard him be, a whole new side of the boy.

He shuffled forward, grabbing his dick with his hand and lining himself up with her.

"Now, don't put it in my- augh!'

Her sentence was interrupted with a moan as he shoved himself in aggressively. He whimpered audibly, not used to the new feeling.

"Oh my spirits.."

He groaned, pulling himself out before sliding back in. (Y/N) moaned again, gripping the felts beneath her hands. Sokka repeated the motion, speeding up every time. Soon, you could hear the sound of skin slapping against skin, (Y/N) letting out small 'ah, ah, ah's. Sokka was letting a stream of curses fall from his lips, a familiar knot in his stomach forming.

"(Y/N).."

He moaned, grabbing onto her soft waist.

"I need to tell you- AUGH- something.."

(Y/N) tightened around Sokka, which only made his growing orgasm arrive sooner.

"You can be rude to me- ah- later!"

She said in a strained voice. Everything felt so otherworldly, like they were the only teeo people in the universe.

"Not that."

He said with a grunt, his hands tracing over her ass as he grinded harder and harder.

"Im-"

He began but realized he was about to cum. He jolted forward, trying to hold it back. That single movement pushed (Y/N) over the edge, shaking and moaning with her orgasm.

"I'm in love with-"

As the words slipped out, so did his arrival. She grabbed her waist tight, enough to bruise, and pushed into her.

"-youaughhh.."

His words were mixed with moans, his white liquid coating the inside of her. He pulled himself out, and saw his cum dripping from her pussy. He asshole was pulsating, her legs quivering, and her waist had tiny fingerprints from his grasp.

(Y/N) flopped down onto her bed, not caring about cleaning up. On the other hand, Sokka was trying to grab a hand towel as fast as he could. He reached over, softly wiping the white liquid from her and her bed. She sighed, rolling over onto her back. Sokka tossed the towel to the side, looking at her panting body from above.

"I'm not a virgin anymore."

He spat out with a toothy grin, making her roll her eyes.

"We're on the same page here."

...

EXTRA!!

Katara rubbed her eyes, stepping out of her tent and into the bright morning light. She had gotten absolutely no sleep last night. Unlike Toph and Aang who could sleep through a tornado, she was kept up all night by (Y/N) and Sokka's 'make up sex'.

She glanced over to the campfire, which occupied Sokka roasted a frog. She stomped over, punching him right in the jaw so he fell over on his side.

"What was that for?"

He asked, looking at Katara like she was insane.

"For keeping me up all night! You deserve two black eyes you little-"

Sokka scrambled up, running into the forest as Katara ran after him.

[brunchable]

The Stakeout: Day 3 || Steve Rogers x Agent!FReader.

Day One | Two | Four Words: 4.2K Themes/Warnings: Unspoken feelings towards each other. Growing tension. Sexual Attraction. Eventual Smut. Being stuck with each other. Summary: You came too close from being compromised by the enemy target and the first idea you could think of was to K-I-S-S Steve. A/N: Ayo . . . We getting close lmfao.

Tags: @lafrone @moviegurl2002 @haruvalentine4321 @blankmoniker

You slept really well. Last night's sleep was different from the cold, restless nights you’ve been enduring—it’s a comforting warmth, the kind that makes you want to stay curled up in bed for just a little longer.

Your eyes flutter open, and it takes you a moment to realize that you’re still cuddling against Steve. At some point during the night, you must have shifted closer, because your head is now resting on his chest, your arm draped across his stomach. His arm is around you, holding you close, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Hm, this is nice.

For a few heartbeats, you just lie there, your mind still groggy from sleep, trying to process the situation. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. It’s nice. Comforting. But as the haze of sleep begins to lift, the realization of just how close you are—how tangled up you’ve become—hits you like a bucket of cold water.

Your eyes snap open fully, and you quickly lift your head, your heart skipping a beat as you realize just how intimately you’re pressed against him. Steve’s eyes flutter open at the sudden movement, for a split second, the two of you just stare at each other, wide-eyed and too stunned to move.

Then, in an unspoken agreement, you both scramble to disentangle yourselves, practically leaping out of bed in your haste to put some distance between you.

“Uh, morning,” Steve mumbles, his voice hoarse from sleep, running a hand through his cow-licked hair. He’s clearly flustered, his cheeks tinged with a faint pink that you’ve never seen before.

“Morning,” you reply, your voice a little too high-pitched as you quickly busy yourself with anything that will distract you from the awkwardness of the situation. 

You smooth down your pajamas, tugging at the hem of your tank, anything to avoid looking at him. The silence that follows is deafening. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him moving around the small apartment, his movements a little too purposeful, as if he’s trying just as hard as you are to pretend that nothing unusual happened. He grabs his coffee mug, but his hands are a bit too shaky, and he nearly spills it as he pours himself a cup.

You decide to follow his lead, grabbing your own mug and pouring yourself some coffee. The routine of it, the familiar motions, help to steady your nerves, but you can still feel the aftershocks of that moment in bed, the way your heart refuses to calm down.

“So,” Steve begins awkwardly, clearing his throat as he finally glances in your direction, though he quickly looks away. “We should probably check in with Fury?” 

You latch onto the change in subject with relief, eager to focus on something—anything—other than the fact that you woke up in his arms. 

“Yeah,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. “He probably needs to know the report for yesterday.”

Steve nods, still avoiding your gaze as he takes a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, that’s… that’s what I was thinking too.”

There’s a brief, awkward silence where you both just stand there, holding your mugs like they’re shields against the morning’s awkwardness.

“So, um…” You gesture vaguely with your mug, trying to find something to say that isn’t related to the fact that you woke up in his arms. “I’ll… get dressed?”

“Right, yeah,” Steve says quickly, nodding a little too enthusiastically. “Good idea. I’ll, uh… I’ll do that too. I mean, not with you. Separately. I’ll get dressed separately. In another room. You know what, I'll just turn around.”

You can’t help but laugh at how flustered he sounds. “Steve—”

But he’s already turning his back to you, his posture stiff with awkwardness. “No, no, I’ll just… I’ll give you some privacy.”

You roll your eyes playfully as you reach for your clothes. “You’re a real gentleman, Rogers. Not even gonna sneak a peek?”

Steve nearly chokes on his coffee, his face turning a deeper shade of pink. “I—uh—no! Of course not!”

“Relax, I’m just messing with you. You can turn back around once I’m dressed.” You grin, enjoying how easy it is to fluster him.

“Right, yeah. I’ll just… stare at the wall,” he mutters, clearly trying to regain his composure.

As you change into your clothes, you can’t help but chuckle to yourself at the absurdity of the situation. Here you are, two highly trained professionals, acting like awkward teenagers. It’s almost endearing.

Finally, you finish getting dressed and clear your throat. “Okay, you can turn around now.”

Steve turns back around, looking relieved that the ordeal is over. “Great. I’ll, uh… get ready too.”

You nod, giving him a little more space as he quickly grabs his clothes and starts to change. This time, you’re the one turning away, focusing intently on your coffee as you try not to think about how nice it would be to wake up like that every day.

“So,” Steve says again as he pulls on his shirt, “about checking in with Fury…”

“Yeah, we’ll do that after we… you know, finish getting ready,” you reply, trying to sound casual.

“Right,” he agrees, but then hesitates. “And, uh… about this morning… I just want to say…”

You brace yourself, expecting another round of awkward apologies, but instead, he surprises you.

“It was nice,” he says softly, his voice sincere. “Waking up like that. I mean, not that I—well, you know what I mean.”

You’re caught off guard by his honesty, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. But then you smile, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the coffee.

“Yeah, it was,” you mumble, your tone softening. “It was… nice.”

× × × ×

After a quick meal, you found yourselves back at your posts, watching the building across the street with the same careful attention you’d maintained the past few days. The day was quiet, the hours dragging by with little to show for it, and you were starting to think that today would be just as uneventful as the days before.

But then, just after lunch, something changed.You spotted movement in one of the windows of the building you were surveilling. It was subtle, just a shadow passing by, but it was enough to put you both on high alert.

“Did you see that?” you whispered, leaning slightly closer to Steve as you strained to get a better look.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice low, tense. “Something's about to happen.”

The two of you watched in silence as the door of the building opened, and a man stepped out. He looked around suspiciously, clearly on edge, and you felt your heart rate pick up. This could be it—the moment you’d been waiting for.

But as the man lingered in the doorway, his gaze sweeping the street, you realized something: he was waiting for something—or someone. You exchanged a quick glance with Steve, your stomach twisting with unease. If he saw you, if he realized you were watching, the entire mission could be compromised.

“We need to stay low,” Steve muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “If he sees us—”

But it was too late. As if sensing your presence, the man’s eyes suddenly snapped to the window where you and Steve were hiding. His gaze zeroed in on you, his expression darkening with suspicion. Your heart stopped, your breath caught in your throat as you locked eyes with him, knowing that you had only seconds to act.

“Kiss me.” You blurted out.

“What?” Steve almost snapped his neck turning his attention towards you.

Panic surged through you, and without thinking, you reached out, grabbing Steve’s shirt and pulling him close. His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t resist. You had to do something—anything—to divert the man’s attention before he realized what you were really doing.

Acting purely on instinct, you tugged Steve down toward you, pressing your lips to his in a sudden, desperate kiss.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis as your lips met his. The tension, the panic, everything melted away, leaving only the heat of the kiss, the way Steve’s body pressed against yours, the way his hand instinctively cupped the back of your head, pulling you closer.

The kiss was meant to be a cover, a way to make the man think you were just a couple stealing a private moment. But it quickly escalated to something deeper.

Steve’s initial shock gave way to a response that sent a shiver down your spine. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that took your breath away, his other arm slipping around your waist to pull you flush against him.

For a moment, you forgot where you were, why you were doing this. All you could think about was the way Steve was kissing you, the way he was holding you, like he never wanted to let go.

Reality crashed back in. You forced yourself to pull back, your breath coming in short, shaky gasps as you broke the kiss. Steve’s eyes were dark, intense, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he stared at you.

But there was no time to dwell on it. You quickly glanced over Steve’s shoulder, your heart pounding as you checked to see if the man was still watching.

He was.

The man’s eyes were locked on the two of you, his expression still suspicious, but now there was something else in his gaze—something calculating. You could see him weighing his options, trying to decide if what he saw was genuine or a ruse.

“We have to sell it,” you whispered urgently, your voice trembling slightly.

Steve’s eyes flicked to the window, understanding immediately. Without hesitation, his hand buried itself in your hair and tilted your head back, taking your lips, his tongue slid silkily within the warmth of yours. 

Your hands find themselves on the back of his neck, and a moan vibrates low in your throat as his tongue invades your mouth, his taste unfamiliar and darkly seductive at the same time. This kiss was slower, more deliberate, really trying to convince the man watching that this was real—that you were just a couple, too wrapped up in each other to notice anything else.

You tried not to get in too deep, but it was nearly impossible when Steve was kissing you like this. He groans, his hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you even closer. A soft gasp escaped you and Steve used the opportunity to deepen his kiss. You feel the growing tension in his powerful body. His breathing speeds up, and his kiss turns hard, devouring, making your body throb in response. Your hips began to grind on his still covered cock, instinctively, while pressing himself against you, gripping your hip.

You risked another glance out of the corner of your eye. You tried to turn your head, but Steve claimed your mouth again. You couldn’t prevent the low moan of pleasure that escaped you as he continued to escalate. Your body begins to pulse in anticipation, your nipples tightening under the fabric of your shirt. 

The man was still there, but his suspicion seemed to be wavering. He hesitated, his gaze narrowing as he watched you both, but then he shook his head slightly, as if dismissing the idea that you were anything other than what you appeared to be. He turned and walked away, disappearing back into the building.

× × × × 

STEVE’S POV

Shit.

Her touch is strangely innocent and uncertain. I can taste her, feel her, and the urge to fuck her is so strong I shudder with it. I know I should stop, push her away, but I can’t. Her kiss is the sweetest thing I’ve ever felt. When I think I can’t bear much more, her hot little mouth moves to my jaw and then trails down my neck, kissing and nibbling with the same torturous gentleness. Her hands release my face and slide down my body, her fingers closing around the bottom edge of my shirt.

She begins to lift my shirt, and I groan as her knuckles brush against my naked sides, her touch leaving my skin burning in its wake. 

“Y/N . . .” I suck in my breath as she scoots down and kneels between my spread legs, her face at the level of my navel. “Y/N, you need to stop teasing me.” 

She ignores my directive, keeping my shirt bunched up. 

“Who’s teasing?” she whispers, looking up at me. And before I can respond, she leans in and places a warm, damp kiss on my stomach. 

Fuck. 

My entire body jerks, my balls tightening on a savage surge of lust. The sight of her kneeling there pushes my buttons in all the wrong ways, calling to my darkest desires. My hands knot into fists, and I take short, deep breaths, reminding myself that we're working right now. We need to be on high alert.

Except she’s licking my stomach now. Fucking licking it. Tracing each muscle indentation with her tongue, like she’s trying to imprint it on her memory. 

“Y/N.” My voice is hoarse. “That’s enough. He's gone.” 

She pulls back, looking up at me through those long, thick lashes of hers, “Are you sure?” she murmurs, still not letting go of my shirt. “Because I think I want more.” 

And leaning in again, she scrapes her teeth over my lower abs, then sucks on the spot, her mouth hot and wet on my bare skin. Skin that’s right next to the throbbing cock still confined in my pants. 

I see Y/N smile deepen as her eyes flick to the bulge in my jeans. The little witch knows exactly what she’s doing to me, what kind of effect she’s having on my body.

Fucking hell.

“Y/N . . .” I can barely form the words, my fingers digging into the window sill in an effort not to grab her. She release my shirt and fiddles with my belt buckle instead—

Bee-Beep. Bee-Beep

The beeping of the satellite phone was like a force that drove me back to reality, shattering the charged atmosphere that had wrapped around us. My mind was still clouded with the intense desire Y/N had stirred in me, but I forced myself to focus, to shove it all aside. I nearly tripped over my own feet as I scrambled for the phone, my heart hammering in my chest.

I clicked the button, bringing the phone to my ear, my breath still coming too fast. “Hello… Fury, yes,” I managed, my voice rough with the remnants of lust that hadn’t fully faded. 

As I spoke, I shot a glance at Y/N, who had moved to lean against the window, her arms crossed and her gaze avoiding mine. The tension between us was still thick, lingering in the air, but it was cut by the sharp edge of Fury’s voice on the other end of the line.

Fury didn’t waste any time. “Rogers, we’ve got a situation. A high-priority operative is heading your way. I’m sending you the details now. Be prepared to change your plans at a moment’s notice.”

Fury’s tone was sharp, no room for error. “And Rogers… don’t let your guard down. This guy is dangerous. Expect the unexpected.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, the line going dead a second later. I lowered the phone, my mind racing to process everything at once. The surge of desire, the need for control, the impending threat—everything was clashing inside me. I turned back to Y/N, who was still watching me, with an unreadable expression.

× × × ×

Your POV

Steve hastily ran towards the phone, almost tripping over his feet as he tried to reach for it just in time. He clicks the button and picks up, “Hello. . . Fury, yes.” Steve gives you a stern glance as you stood up and leaned on the window with your arms now crossed

“Yes, sir.” Steve replied to the phone firmly before hanging up the phone. Steve sighed and tossed the phone on the table. 

The silence that followed was painful, punctuated only by the sound of Steve’s pacing as he moved back and forth across the small room. The shift in his demeanor was jarring—gone was the man who had been just moments away from losing control with you, replaced by the disciplined soldier, all focus and intense. It was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over the both of you, extinguishing the heat of the moment.

Your arms crossed tighter over your chest as you leaned against the window, your mind racing with regret and confusion. What the hell was I thinking? The question echoed in your mind, over and over again, with no clear answer. 

The desire that had driven you to push him that far, to test the boundaries of your partnership, now seemed reckless, foolish even. You could barely stand to look at Steve, not with the way he was pacing, his mind clearly focused on the mission and nothing else.

He stopped suddenly, his hand still on his hip, and let out a long sigh. He turned to you, the sternness was still there, and you braced yourself for whatever he was going to say.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice low but firm, “we need to talk about what just happened.”

You bit your lip, not sure if you were ready for this conversation, but knowing you couldn’t avoid it. 

“I know,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. “I… I’m sorry, Steve. That was out of line. I don’t know what came over me.”

Steve shook his head, stepping closer, his eyes locking onto yours. “Don’t apologize. I’m just as responsible for what happened. But I need to be clear about something—this mission, our focus, it can’t be compromised. Not by anything, even… this.”

“I know. You’re right. I lost sight of that for a moment, but it won’t happen again.” You nodded, your throat tight as you struggled to find the right words. 

He studied you for a long moment, his expression softening just slightly, as if he could see the turmoil you were feeling. “We’re both under a lot of pressure, and things like this… they happen. We can’t afford any distractions alright?”

“I understand,” you said, meeting his gaze head-on. “I’ll stay focused. I won’t let this interfere with the mission.”

He took a deep breath, as if steadying himself. “Once this is over, we’ll figure out what to do about… us. But for now, we have to push it aside.”

“Okay,” you agreed, though the words felt heavy on your tongue. “We’ll deal with it later.”

He gave you a small, tight-lipped smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Right. Now, let’s get back to work.”

The room fell into silence again, but this time it was different. The weight of what had happened, and what had almost happened, lingered in the air between you. 

As Steve turned back to the table, gathering his gear, you couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of your eye. You wanted to reach out, to say something, anything that might ease the tension between you, but the words wouldn’t come.

So instead, you followed his lead, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand. The mission was all that mattered now. Everything else would have to wait. But deep down, you knew that once this was all over, there would be no going back to the way things were. The line had been crossed, and nothing would ever be the same.

× × × ×

The night dragged on, the silence between you and Steve almost as heavy as the darkness that filled the room. After Fury’s call, you both took up positions by the window, watching the building next door with unwavering focus. But as the hours ticked by with no sign of movement, the tension began to ease, replaced by a bone-deep weariness.

It was now 3 a.m., and nothing had happened. Not even the slightest flicker of light or shadow from the target’s location. The adrenaline that had kept you alert earlier in the night had long since faded, leaving you fighting to keep your eyes open. You shifted slightly, trying to push away the fatigue that was pulling you under, but it was no use. You tried to stay alert, tried to keep your eyes open and your focus on the mission, but your body had other plans. You found yourself nodding off, your head dipping lower each time, only to snap back up as you jolted awake, determined not to let sleep overtake you.

But the battle was futile. Each time your eyes closed, they stayed shut a little longer. The room around you blurred into shadows, and before you knew it, your head rested against the back of the chair, and you were drifting off completely.

STEVE'S POV

I watched as Y/N finally gave in to sleep, her head resting against the back of the chair, her breathing becoming slow and even. She’d fought so hard to stay awake, to keep watch alongside me, but it was clear she couldn’t hold out any longer. The day had taken its toll on both of us, but I couldn’t help feeling a surge of protectiveness as I watched her sleep.

I knew she couldn’t stay like this—curled up in an uncomfortable chair, vulnerable to the aches and stiffness that would come when she woke. She needed proper rest, especially with what might lie ahead. Quietly, I stood from my own chair, moving toward her with careful, measured steps.

As I reached her, I hesitated for just a moment, taking in the sight of her peaceful face. Then, gently, I slipped one arm under her knees and the other around her back, lifting her with ease. She stirred slightly as I cradled her against my chest, but she didn’t wake. The trust she had in me, even unconsciously, made something tighten in my chest, but I pushed the feeling aside. There would be time to sort through all of that later.

I reached the bed and slowly lowered her onto it, my movements gentle, careful not to wake her. As I laid her down, she instinctively curled into the blanket, her hand clutching the edge as she settled into the softness. But before I could step back, something held me there, something that made it impossible to look away.

For a long moment, I just stood there, staring down at her. She looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, the usual tension and guardedness gone from her features. The way her lashes rested softly against her cheeks, the slight parting of her lips as she breathed, the delicate curve of her neck—it all captivated me in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

And then, without thinking, I reached out, my fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. The touch was light, barely there, but it sent a shiver down my spine. My hand lingered, hovering just above her skin, as if part of me was afraid to break the spell of the moment.

God, she was beautiful. Not just in the way she looked, but in everything she was—strong, determined, fiercely loyal. She had this fire inside her that drew me in, made it impossible for me to stay away, even when I knew I should. And now, seeing her like this, so calm and serene, it hit me just how deeply I cared for her.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the emotions I’d been trying to suppress rising to the surface. The urge to lean down, to press a soft kiss to her forehead, to her lips, was almost overwhelming. But I held back, knowing that this wasn’t the time. It wasn’t fair to her, to us, to act on these feelings when so much was at stake.

But standing there, looking down at her, it was impossible not to imagine a different world—one where we weren’t in the middle of a mission, where the dangers weren’t so immediate, where we could be together without fear or hesitation. A world where I could tell her everything that was in my heart, where I could love her the way she deserved to be loved.

The intensity of those thoughts made my breath catch, and I had to force myself to step back, to break the connection. But before I did, I let my fingers trace lightly across her temple, down to her jaw, memorizing the feel of her skin beneath my touch.

“Y/N…” I whispered, so softly that the words barely escaped my lips. But the sound, the feeling, hung in the air between us, charged with all the things I couldn’t say out loud.

She stirred slightly in her sleep, a small sigh escaping her lips, and I froze, watching her settle back into peaceful slumber. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, and I couldn’t help but feel a swell of affection.

Finally, I forced myself to turn away, every step back to the window feeling heavier than the last. I took my seat, resuming my watch, but my mind was far from clear. The image of her sleeping face, the way she looked so content and beautiful, was burned into my mind.

I was in love with her—completely, irrevocably—and there was no going back from that.

[kpopfanfictrash]

Love to Hate (Extra Scene III: Jungkook’s POV)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Fuck Buddies / Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Synopsis: Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you've done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.

Author’s Note: This scene takes place during Chapter 7 of Love to Hate and is told from Jungkook’s point of view. PLEASE READ THE ENTIRE STORY BEFORE READING THIS SCENE (otherwise there will be spoilers lol).

Rating: 18+ 

Warnings: semi-public sex, breast play, fingering, dirty talk (hypothetical cum play, possessiveness), spanking, multiple orgasms, somewhat rough sex

Word Count:  8,704

“If this trend were to continue, I’m not certain how we could keep up with production. This would obviously pose a problem for our shareholders, so let’s brainstorm solutions before the next quarterly call. Does that work for you, Mr. Jeon?”

A long, pregnant pause.

“Mr. Jeon?”

Beneath the table, Namjoon gives a not-so-subtle kick to Jungkook’s kneecap. Jerking upright, Jungkook glances around to cover his recent lapse. Based on Namjoon’s glare, his attempt must not pass muster.

“I – yes.” Jungkook nods, hoping he hasn’t agreed to something terrible. “That works for me. Thank you.”

The woman pauses, clearly unused to being thanked by the CEO. “Of course, Mr. Jeon,” she says, recovering quickly to take her seat.

Fingers tapping the acrylic table, Jungkook glances as covertly as he can at the clock. A wave of panic washes over him when he realizes the meeting has nearly ended since Jungkook doesn’t remember a single discussion. Unusual, for a man who insists on booking his own travel because he doesn’t trust anyone else to find the best deal.

It’s not like Jungkook to be distracted, or to not pay attention to detail. A swift glance at his notebook proves equally damning. Usually, Jungkook takes careful notes but today, the only thing written is the date at the header.

Subtly, Jungkook straightens. Forcing himself to concentrate, he listens to the rest of the updates. Someone from Info Security briefs Jungkook on a new phishing attack. A woman from Finance updates them on the search for a new travel vendor. Jungkook listens closely, responding when needed but can feel Namjoon’s gaze on his cheek the rest of the meeting.

Knowing his COO, Namjoon has some thoughts about Jungkook drifting off. It’s for this reason that Jungkook hangs back once the meeting has finished. Namjoon also stays, waiting until the last person files out before swiveling sideways, exhaling in a way which implies years of exhaustion.

“Tissue?” Jungkook offers blithely.

Namjoon fixes him with a look. “No, thanks. What’s going on?”

“I’m… not sure what you mean.”

Brows lifted, Namjoon pushes himself to stand. “Yes, you do.” Lifting his laptop, he walks around the table. “For weeks now, you’ve been distracted. Years of planning and here we are, in the home stretch but somehow, it feels like I’m alone. Tell me what’s going on – and don’t,” Namjoon adds, a note of warning to his voice, “say this is all in my head.”

Jungkook closes his mouth, about to say just that. 

Sinking into his seat, Jungkook searches for a response because Namjoon is right. Something has been going on and Jungkook has been distracted. Ever since the dinner at Aleve, Jungkook hasn’t been himself. Realizing his fingers have resumed tapping the table, Jungkook forces himself to stop.

Two weeks have passed since he last spoke to you at Aleve. Two weeks of pretending neither of you cares about the other. Unless you really don’t care, and Jungkook is the only one who’s pretending.

Thoughts souring, Jungkook considers the possibility. Fighting the tide of memory is useless – as soon he thinks of your name, Jungkook disappears. He remembers the last time he saw you, entering Aleve with his father and Namjoon. Hearing your laughter from across the room, craning his neck only to find you with Liam Jessen. Jungkook’s worst enemy, smiling at you like you were the only person in the room.

Jungkook tried to recover after that, tried not to think about it – a plan swiftly dashed when he ran into you outside the bathroom. Cheeks hot, Jungkook once more relives that brutal interaction.

It doesn’t matter who you sleep with. I know you’ll call as soon as you realize they’re just as boring as every man before me.

Jungkook was jealous, but there’s no excuse for what he said. Your response was equally cutting, reducing whatever had been between you to sex. Jungkook should have pressed harder, but imposter syndrome stepped in and all he could do was agree.

Now, a voice in the back of his mind – which sounds suspiciously like Yoongi – whispers that Jungkook pushes people away to see if they’ll come back. Unfair, whispers that same voice. True relationships don’t keep score. You shouldn’t be guilted into admitting your feelings before Jungkook deigns to tell you his.

It’s no wonder you haven’t reached out, proving the second half of his statement incorrect. You haven’t felt the need to call him since Liam. Instead of lashing out, Jungkook should have just told you how he felt. Maybe then, he’d be seeing you tonight instead of facing yet another night alone in his apartment. Wondering if you’re by yourself or out there with Liam. 

Swallowing hard, Jungkook pushes the thought away. Realizing his fingers have resumed their tapping, Jungkook lays his palm flat on the table. “I’m sorry,” he exhales and looks up. “I… know I’ve been distracted. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

Concern knits Namjoon’s brow. “That’s not – I wasn’t trying to get you to apologize, man. I genuinely want to know what’s going on. Are you alright?”

These simple words dissolve the barrier between Jungkook’s mind and his mouth. Embarrassing, how fast genuine concern can make Jungkook break down. His father would have had something to say about it – which probably means Jungkook shouldn’t be embarrassed about the reaction.

“No,” he admits. “Everything isn’t okay – but it will be. Soon. I know I’ve been distracted, but I promise to do better.”

Namjoon looks at him wryly. “Who are they?”

Jungkook blinks. “Huh?”

Laughing to himself, Namjoon takes the seat beside him. “Whoever it is that has you in shambles,” he continues. “This conference room is dry, otherwise I’d offer you a stiff drink. Feels like we should imbibe if we have to talk about feelings.”

Jungkook can’t help but smile. “That obvious, huh?”

“Only to those who’ve been there before.”

Leaning back in his seat, Jungkook tilts his head. He and Namjoon have been friends for years, although their friendship began as a business relationship. Namjoon wasn’t around for the less savory parts of his life; the years when Jungkook was drunk more often than not and took nothing about this company seriously. 

Other people remember though, and Jungkook has had to work to turn his image around. Even now, his father’s media headlines haunt his footsteps – although these have recently ceased since Jungkook became CEO. You’re a distraction to his work by any definition, drawing Jungkook’s attention away from the company. Especially so if Namjoon has noticed.

“Can I give you some advice?” Namjoon offers, steepling long fingers before him.

Jungkook lifts a brow. “If I said no, would that stop you?”

“Probably not.”

“Then, sure. Go ahead.”

Namjoon leans in. “Don’t let this fester.”

“What?”

“Whatever it is that’s been bothering you.” Namjoon lowers his hands. “Don’t let things linger – fix the situation before it’s too late. My mom always says not to go to bed angry and in this case, I agree with her.”

Jungkook considers. “When would you not agree with that statement?”

“If you’re both drunk and neither one of you are making any sense.”

“Huh.” He nods. “Valid.”

“Anyways,” Namjoon sighs. “I’ve been paying attention to you this week, and whatever’s going on hasn’t gotten any better. Rather than keep going, you should make a change.”

“A change to… what?”

“Hell, if I know.” Namjoon lifts a shoulder and lets it fall. “I only know the bare minimum of information about your situation.”

“Fair point.” Jungkook exhales, pushing a hand through his hair.

Shoving his chair back to stand, Namjoon adjusts his suit jacket. Scooping his laptop from the table, he heads for the door only to pause on the threshold, looking as though he’s debating whether to say something or not.

Evidently, saying the thing wins out and he straightens. “You know you can delegate, right?” Namjoon says, leveling Jungkook with a look. “Today’s meeting, for example. You probably don’t need to hear every update from every department. Let your CFO talk to Finance and tell you if something’s important.”

The furrow between Jungkook’s brows deepens. “You’re probably right,” he allows.

Truthfully, Jungkook is struggling to find his management style. His father ruled through fear and the occasional carrot. Jungkook wants to make his own mark on the company and have his employees work because they actually want to, but this is proving more difficult to achieve than he thought.

“Just a thought.” Namjoon shrugs, slapping the door before disappearing down the hall. Jungkook is left alone, the clock on the wall the only sound apart from his thoughts. 

Exhaling lowly, he stares at his hands atop the acrylic table. On his right, the sun has gradually sunk towards the horizon. Today is Friday, meaning most of his staff has gone home by now. Their weekly report-out is usually the last meeting on people’s calendars. Jungkook rarely leaves before the sun sets, though. He uses his time in the evening to respond to his emails.

Namjoon is probably right about delegating. Afraid of being seen as an absentee leader, Jungkook has joined every meeting for every direct report since the Board voted him in as CEO. It’s probably time for him to relax the reins, or else be seen as a micromanager. 

Releasing a breath, Jungkook pulls his notepad closer. His cell phone sits beside him on the table, stubbornly silent since the start of the meeting. Jungkook doesn’t bother to check if you’ve texted, since he already knows the answer. 

Since Aleve, you’ve been quiet.

Things were awkward before then though if he’s being honest. When you called Jungkook the night prior and asked him to stay, he nearly jumped at the chance. Despite having a Board meeting the next day and mountains of paperwork to do – the moment you called, Jungkook came. The truth of the matter was he wouldn’t turn down any opportunity to see you, no matter the consequences.

Jungkook should’ve known then that he was in trouble, but he didn’t fully realize until the next day. When he awoke and saw your face limned by sunlight, Jungkook knew things had gone further than he intended.

He had feelings for you. Strong feelings. Feelings Jungkook had never experienced, and ones which put him in danger because they broke all your rules. This was also the moment panic set in – you’d been more than clear about what would happen if he broke a rule. Jungkook had fallen for the one person he’d promised not to – and so he ran away.

Later, he texted a casual thank you. Jungkook tried to pull back, tried to disguise his true feelings so you wouldn’t suspect things had changed. Somehow though, this only seemed to make things worse. The voice in his head whispers Jungkook did it on purpose – shut you down before you could tell him to go.

Eyes closed, Jungkook swivels in his chair. Namjoon is right. He should call you, but the thought of picking up the phone and putting his heart on the line seems insurmountable. It’s nearly six o clock on a Friday, anyways – more than likely, you’re out with your friends.

Jungkook’s throat tightens. Or possibly out on another date with Liam. 

Pushing his chair back, Jungkook reaches for his notebook. Over a month has gone by since he ran into Liam at your fundraiser – it seems impossible for feelings to have developed in such a short time. Then again, Jungkook didn’t feel this way about you a month ago. Hell, he was in denial of his feelings up until your apartment.

Now that he knows though, it’s up to Jungkook to confess before it’s too late. Even if you are hooking up with Liam, that would be better than if you developed feelings for him. This depressing turn of thought is thankfully interrupted by Jungkook’s phone buzzing.

Withdrawing this, he hopes for your name only to be disappointed by the truncated line of text. Exhaling lowly, Jungkook swipes.

Dad: You need to attend the Y/L/N’s anniversary party tomorrow evening. Unexpected business out of town – will be gone until Monday. Sign my name in the card, thx [6:36 PM]

Frown deepening, Jungkook pockets his phone. Just like his father to expect him to drop everything and attend to the family business. If the Board vote on company strategy weren’t imminent, Jungkook would likely tell his father to go to hell.

There’s also the fact that your family name is in the text – Y/L/N. This party is being thrown by your parents, which means you might attend. Coming to a stop before his office, Jungkook is struck by the possibility this could work in his favor.

Rather than chase you down, he could show up at the party and see your reaction. Something to inform him whether his feelings are returned before placing it all on the line.

Jungkook knows that feelings shouldn’t be conditional. That if he wants to confess, he should just do it, but Jungkook manages to push the voice aside. Already building a plan for tomorrow, he strides into his office and lets the door shut.

All day long, Jungkook debates what time to arrive. Get there too soon, and he might scare you off. Arrive late enough and he could miss you entirely. You haven’t been shy about the feelings you hold for your parents, and Jungkook doubts you’ll stay long.

In the end, he exits his town car a half hour late, but Jungkook needn’t have worried: you’re nowhere to be found. Deflating slightly, Jungkook wanders inside and orders a drink from a bar. Turning to face the ballroom, he swirls his whiskey while scanning the floor.

The party is indistinguishable from any other society event, doing little to recommend it in Jungkook’s opinion. Pulling himself from the bar, Jungkook engages in small talk while making the rounds and keeping one eye on the door.

Nearly an hour passes, and Jungkook finds himself trapped in conversation with one of his father’s close friends. Laura something or other; Jungkook can’t recall her surname. Nodding while listening, Jungkook tunes Laura out while she prattles on about her new diamond mine. 

“Have you been there?” Laura prompts, forcing him into the conversation.

“Hm?” Jungkook lifts a brow. “No, I’m afraid not.”

A risk, since he didn’t hear where Laura mentioned, but a negative answer discourages follow-up. Or so it would seem. With Laura though, this prompts a soliloquy about the benefits of Cannes in the fall. As soon as he considers it polite to do so, Jungkook excuses himself and heads once more for the bar.

He’s nearly made it when the crowd parts and time seems to slow as you enter the ballroom. Dressed in a gown of midnight blue, you throw your head back and laugh – and Jungkook’s gaze drifts sideways to land on Liam Jessen. 

His feet turn to ice. Coming to a stop, Jungkook can’t help but stare at the sight of your arm intertwined with his. You look beautiful, but then again, you always do. Gown sweeping the floor, you’re nothing short of ethereal and seeing you on the arm of another man slices Jungkook’s chest open. 

When you look at Liam and smile, the pounding of Jungkook’s heart drowns out all thought. Grasping ahold of himself, Jungkook spins around to stalk across the floor. He can’t see you like this. Can’t talk to you calmly when you’re here with Liam.

Dropping his glass on the bar counter, Jungkook asks for a whiskey and waits while it’s poured. Staring down at his hand, he regains control of his breathing. 

You came here with Liam. 

You came tonight with a date, and that date is Liam. Sluggishly, Jungkook tries to separate the two thoughts, but they continue to attract like opposing magnets. Discomfort prickles in the back of his mind, putting two and two together. Your rules resurface, unasked and unwanted.

Number one, no discussion of personal lives (broken several times over). Number two, always use protection and get tested monthly for STDs. Number three, that you’re not exclusive. Number four, that either of you are free to end things any time, and rule number five, that your parents can’t find out.

It’s the fifth rule which has Jungkook’s stomach in knots. He assumed you didn’t want to tell your parents because you’re estranged and dating anyone from their world would bring complications. Which makes sense, if Jungkook and you were just having sex. Complications are the antithesis of that type of thing.

For you not to have similar reservations about Liam means things between you are different. That possibly you think Liam is worth the hassle. Unable to contemplate any meaning beyond this, Jungkook’s thoughts curdle and sour.

The bartender finishes pouring, and Jungkook accepts this without comment to chug a third. Setting this back down, Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of one hand. Exhaling, he considers the options before him. 

You haven’t seen him, which means that Jungkook could leave. His father might be angry, but frankly, that’s the least of Jungkook’s concerns. The more Jungkook ponders, the more appealing this seems, and the more his resolve hardens.

Draining another third, Jungkook turns around and spots you across the room. You stand beside a different bar, smiling at something your brother just said. White-hot jealousy licks Jungkook’s stomach, seeing you introduce Liam to your family.

The rest of his drink disappears, and Jungkook places the empty glass on the counter, sliding the bartender a fifty. Adjusting his suit jacket, he skirts the edge of the room as he heads for the door.

Your face burns in his mind. Standing between your brother and Liam, you seemed almost happy. Buoyant. Without a care in the world. Exactly the opposite of how Jungkook feels now. Clearly, you haven’t been missing him during your time apart. 

Forcing his expression to neutrality, Jungkook crosses the rest of the room. He’s nearly made it to the hallway when a man steps into his path.

“Jungkook!” Reaching for his hand, the man clasps this tightly. “What a surprise – fancy seeing you here instead of your father. Seems like the regime change is in full swing, eh?”

With great effort, Jungkook slows his stride. The man is Charles Smith – a valuable ally, and one of the few Fortune 500 companies willing to invest in clean energy. Namjoon has drafted numerous proposals for their companies working together, which means Jungkook can’t afford to alienate him at such a crucial time.

Forcing a smile, Jungkook comes to a stop. “Something like that,” he says smoothly, shaking his hand. “How are you this evening, Charles?”

“Oh, Chuck is fine. I’m swell,” he says, withdrawing his hand to swirl his gin. “The doctor keeps telling me not to drink, but we’ve all got to die sometime – right?”

“Right,” Jungkook agrees, though his gaze darts towards the hall.

Unfortunately, this means you’re forced in his path. You’ve left the bar and now stand beside your mother, your expression aggravated in a way Jungkook can understand. When your gaze locks with his, you go completely still. 

Even if Jungkook didn’t know who your companion was, he’d know you were related. Something about your bearing, the confident way you stand screams familial relation. You probably wouldn’t like hearing that, but traits by themselves aren’t bad. It’s what you do with them that matters.

While your mother seems unimpressed by her surroundings, you look visibly frustrated. Jungkook isn’t sure why and probably shouldn’t care to find out. Your familial problems are none of his concern.

Turning around, Jungkook thanks Charles for his time before he moves on. Your worried face refuses to dissipate from mind though, despite his best efforts. Eventually, Jungkook exhales and turns – only to notice Liam is still with you. Feet pausing, Jungkook finds himself feeling foolish for the second time that night.

Grasping you by the arm, your mother returns you to their circle – completing the image of a picture-perfect family. Idiot, Jungkook curses, disappearing again. Foolish to not hear what you said, to ignore the many, many times you’ve placed boundaries between you. 

Jungkook’s inner voice delights in his anguish, strengthened by the ache in his heart. Not good enough for your father, not good enough for Y/N, the voice muses. How can you hope for a serious relationship when you’ve never been in one before? Liam might be an ass, but at least he has ambition. He made something of himself, rather than spend so many years drowning in self-pity.

As cruel as the thought is, it’s not entirely wrong. Liam has more in common with you than Jungkook would like to admit – you’ve known from a young age what you wanted, just like Liam. Liam wasn’t born into wealth; his family doesn’t exist within the same social circle. It almost makes sense, the idea of you dating.

Liam betrayed Jungkook’s confidence once, but they were both young then. Naïve. Maybe Liam has changed since the internship – God knows, Jungkook has. 

Returning his thoughts to present, Jungkook reaches the valet. Ultimately, you brought Liam to meet your parents and not Jungkook. Whether this means you have feelings for Liam or can’t see a future with Jungkook – either way, the result is the same.

Jungkook supposes he can’t blame you for that. Jeon Energy is the Goliath to your David. Until Jungkook’s proposal is approved by the Board, the direction of Jeon Energy remains the same. Dating him would go against everything you believe in. It isn’t as though Jungkook has let you in on his plans or allowed you to think better of him in any way. 

While waiting for his car to arrive, Jungkook keeps both hands in his pockets. The fact that you brought Liam means Rule Number Four can’t be far behind. The rule which allows either of you to end things between you. Jungkook recalls how he scoffed at this rule, certain it wouldn’t be necessary for either one of you. 

In his experience, interest rarely lasts longer than a month. Jungkook figured your spark would fizzle and die, that you’d gradually stop calling and there’d be no hard feelings. Now, he can’t help but wonder at how foolish he was.

Jungkook needs to end this before you can. 

By ending things first, it’d allow Jungkook to keep some of his dignity. It would also give you an out, alleviating you from pressure of letting him down. If anything, Jungkook imagines you’ll feel some relief. This way, you don’t have to explain about Liam.

Flipping his keys, Jungkook is staring into the night when footsteps approach. 

Turning his head, he watches the moment you enter the hall. A vision in blue, fabric drifting around your legs as you come to a stop. For a moment, Jungkook wonders if you’re here to see him before banishing the notion as dangerous.

“Hi,” you exhale, your voice carrying through the hall.

Brow furrowing, Jungkook wonders why you came. Maybe Liam is close behind, ready to leave with you in his car. 

“Hi,” Jungkook exhales, his chest tight.

Glancing over his shoulder, you search for someone, and Jungkook’s confusion grows. Everyone else remains at the party. Distractedly, Jungkook wonders if you saw him leave and came to check on him. The thought of your pity makes his neck heat.

“Can we talk?” you ask at last, meeting his gaze.

Jungkook pauses, at war with himself. If he agrees, he’d be moving up the timeline of your conversation. Not to mention the fact that merely the sight of you loosens his resolve. If you were to talk now, who knows what he’d say.

“I…” Jungkook hesitates, certain he should say no. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Y/N.”

Something flares in your gaze. “I didn’t say it was a good idea. I said I wanted to talk.”

Jungkook is forced to press his lips together to keep from laughing. It’s just such a you thing to say that against his better judgement, Jungkook finds himself nodding. Despite knowing this will hurt more tomorrow, Jungkook gives in.

Taking him by the arm, you tug him down the hall. Jungkook follows closely behind, unceremoniously dragged while you find a suitable room. Pulling open a door, you shove Jungkook in, flicking the light switch to quickly follow suit.

Your dress settles around you, nose nearly pressed to his in the dim light of the closet. Jungkook’s heart pounds, overloud in such a small space. Your scent wraps around him, body and soul, pulling him in when he should run away. It muddies what he came here to tell you, causes him to forget that you’re breaking his heart.

Unable to breathe, Jungkook looks at the door. Then, at your ear. Anywhere but at your gaze, which can see right through him. 

Eventually, the silence moves him to speak. “You wanted to talk?” Jungkook asks, careful to keep his tone neutral.

You blink in amazement. “That’s… all you have to say?”

Jungkook notices you’re holding his wrist at the same time you do. Dropping him as though burned, you take a step backwards and your spine hits the door. This rejection stings more than Jungkook would like to admit.

“Well, I was about to leave,” he says stiffly, and meets your gaze.

He wishes he hadn’t when your eyes narrow, full of fire. It’s unfair of you to look at him like that. Unfair to look at him at all when you came here with Liam and again, Jungkook wonders why you’re here. 

“Fine, then,” you huff. “I’ll speak.”

Jungkook’s heart aches when he hears the clear hurt in your voice. As infuriating as tonight has been, Jungkook had every opportunity to say how he felt weeks ago. Hell, he could have called yesterday, but he didn’t. Instead, Jungkook showed up tonight and expected to be met with your praise.

Folding your arms across your chest, you fix Jungkook with a glare. “I haven’t heard from you in a while,” you exhale.

Jungkook hesitates, unsure how to respond. You came here tonight with Liam, so it doesn’t make sense for you to pull him aside for small talk. To chase him towards his car only to ask Jungkook how he’s been.

Forcing his expression to remain neutral, Jungkook searches for an answer that’s least embarrassing. Or incriminating.

“I’ve been out of town,” he says at last.

You study his face. “Business trip?”

“Yes. Amongst other things.”

It’s mostly true. Jungkook and Namjoon have been traveling across the country, securing their plans for the upcoming Board meeting. You don’t know anything about that though, so his answer remains vague.

“Seems awfully sudden,” you observe.

Realizing his jaw is clenched, Jungkook forces himself to relax. The fact that you’re here, mad at him when you came with Liam is beyond infuriating. “I can’t help but notice,” he says, voice dropping, “you didn’t text me either. Or did I miss your messages?”

Something in your expression falters, but you recover quickly to step closer. Breath held, Jungkook looks you up and down. Everything about your body language screams anger, but this can’t be right. You’ve been dating Liam for weeks, have introduced him to your parents which means a breakup with Jungkook can’t be far behind – right? 

“No, you didn’t,” you admit. 

Jungkook’s resolve hardens. “So, I have to assume you didn’t want to see me.”

His voice comes out calmer than he is though, and the irrationality of your discussion spurs a wave of uncertainty. You didn’t text Jungkook; he didn’t text you. Both of you ignored the other and now, here you are. That part makes sense, no matter how uncomfortable.

What Jungkook can’t explain is why you ran after him. Why you pulled him aside and wanted to talk. None of what you’re saying matters if you’re planning to end things – unless you’re not. A wild spark of hope catches, and Jungkook smothers it quickly.

“I was waiting,” you blurt out, incredulous. “After all the weirdness at the restaurant, I was waiting for you to reach out to me!”

Jungkook’s thoughts stutter, then resume. You wanted him to reach out. Of course, that doesn’t change the fact that you moved on so quickly. 

“What weirdness?” 

“Oh, please.” You stifle an eye roll. “I ran into you on a date with Liam, and you acted strange.”

Jungkook’s entire face heats. “I mean, I do think it’s weird that you want to date Jessen,” he says, unable to stop himself. “He’s not a good guy.”

“Why not?” you demand. “You can’t just say that, and not explain.”

Jungkook hesitates, on the verge of explanation before he pulls back. It doesn’t matter. If Jungkook tells you about Liam, he’d have to explain everything – his mom, his dad and the whole, morbid past. There’s no point in sharing if you’re leaving tonight.

Something about this feels wrong, but Jungkook can’t put a finger on why.

“Why did you even come here?” you ask, your expression changing. “Why did you come to my parents’ party if you didn’t want to see me? If you really don’t care?”

I care, Jungkook wants to yell. Obviously, he cares but you were the one who walked in on someone else’s arm. The confession chokes in his throat, stillborn.

“I came because my dad asked me,” Jungkook says instead. “He couldn’t attend, so he sent me in his place. It would’ve been rude for one of us not to attend.”

Your jaw tightens. “Liar.”

Jungkook goes still. “Excuse me?” 

Somehow, you move even closer. “I said, liar,” you repeat, chin tilted. “Your father didn’t ask you to come. You came here because you wanted to – why can’t you just admit that?”

Panic sparks, realizing you can see right through him. And still, Jungkook doesn’t understand why you’re pretending to care. Why you continue to push, trying to get Jungkook to say he cares when you’re the one leaving. Do you want him to beg? Would leaving be better if you left him humiliated?

Anger is easier to focus on than pain, and so Jungkook grasps it tight with both hands. 

Something in your gaze falters. “I – right, okay,” you murmur, fumbling behind you for the door. “Got it. I just… assumed. I’ll go.”

Hearing your voice crack, Jungkook’s fury vanishes. No longer caring about the why, he focuses on the what and reaches out for your wrist. Your breath catches when his fingers close around your warm skin. Gently – so gently – Jungkook turns you around and presses you to the door.

Inhaling your scent, Jungkook crowds you against the wood. You stare back at him and Jungkook wonders what would’ve happened if he’d just called. 

Feeling suddenly helpless, he drops the façade. “You’re right,” Jungkook admits, his voice hoarse. “I wanted to see you.”

Bending his head, he crushes your lips with his.

Your noise of surprise muffles, dissipating the moment your lips touch. Hands encircling his waist, you slowly trace the panes of his body. Jungkook loves the way you touch him – gentle and then, not gentle at all. Losing himself in your touch, Jungkook kisses you roughly.

When your hands tug his hair, Jungkook groans into your mouth. Memorizing the feel of your body with his, he shuts out the fear that this might be the last. Within minutes, the kiss has turned urgent, both of you searching for something unsaid. Smoothing a hand down your spine, Jungkook tugs you into his chest. 

Half-hard since he entered the closet, Jungkook bites down on your lip to relish the soft noise you make. Slipping his hand beneath the strap of your dress, he bares your shoulder and cups your breast in his palm. Slowly, he teases your nipple with his thumb and listens to your breath hitch.

Head lowered, Jungkook closes his lips around the nipple and tugs. You groan, arching against him in eager invitation. Hand reaching, Jungkook fumbles with your zipper until it catches and pulls. Your dress pools on the ground, leaving you naked except for your heels and panties. Cock swelling at the visual, Jungkook bites lightly on your nipple through lace.

Reaching behind, you undo your bra and let this fall to the floor. With it, the last of Jungkook’s resolve slips away. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs.

Before you can respond, he lowers his head and sucks your breast again. Teasing you slowly, he relishes the eager rise and fall of your chest. Lowering his hand, he grasps your thigh to wrap firmly around him. Fingers searching, he skims the edge of your wetness and feels you tremble.

Returning to your lips, Jungkook crushes his mouth to yours. Now that you’ve kissed, he can’t seem to stop – especially when he knows this might be the last. Pouring everything he feels into a wordless gesture, Jungkook pulls you to him.

You whimper, shifting to better align your hips to his. Tightening his grip on your waist, Jungkook chuckles and keeps himself just beyond reach. Lazily trailing his fingers in circles, he angles his head to deepen the kiss.

“Jungkook,” you moan against his lips.

He can’t help but smile. “Yes?”

Eyes opening, your expression turns heady. “I need more.”

“More.” Casually, his fingers stroke higher. “Is that what you want from me? Want me to make you come, princess?”

There’s a bite to his words he can’t fully disguise. Jungkook is used to being wanted for his skills in bed. It’s never been something he begrudged before but then, he’s never wanted more from someone else and hearing you say it is like a knife to the chest.

You hesitate, gaze searching. “What do you want, Jungkook?”

Jungkook goes still, scanning your face. He wants more than this. He wants you and you, alone but that can’t possibly be what you mean. 

“What… do I want?” he repeats.

“Yes.” You stare up at him, earnest. “You always ask me what I want in bed, but what do you want?”

In bed. Each word is followed by a dull thunk, falling into place alongside the weight of expectation. Obviously, you meant sex – anything more would be ludicrous. You came here tonight with someone else, after all.

Lowering his head, Jungkook skims your throat with his nose. He allows his teeth to graze skin, feeling you shudder and tightening his grip. 

“This,” he murmurs, voice cracking in a rare moment of honesty. “Just this.”

Jungkook kisses you before you can see the desperation in his eyes. He backs you against the door, skimming the top of your panties with his rough fingers. You shudder against him, arching your chest and Jungkook takes pity.

Sliding a hand lower, he cups your center and hisses when he feels how wet you are. Slowly, he drags a finger forward – along the damp fabric. One palm on the door, Jungkook repeats this over and over, until you’re a wet, sopping mess.

“Jungkook,” you beg, meeting his gaze.

Jungkook lifts a brow. “Thighs together, princess.”

Hastening to obey, you trap his hand between your warm legs. Flexing his wrist, Jungkook idly strokes along the seam of your panties. A soft moan leaves your lips, head hitting the door while he touches you. Jungkook slowly slips his finger beneath the soft lace.

Brushing the hood of your clit, he savors how swollen you are. How responsive your body is to his touch. Gaze dropping, he takes in the frantic roll of your hips.

“Jungkook,” you moan, and his gaze jerks upward.

“Look at you,” he croons, moving closer. “Already a mess and I’ve barely touched you. Just sucked on those pretty tits like you needed. Tell me,” he says, voice hardening. “Tell me you needed it.”

Deep down, Jungkook knows this is wrong. It isn’t healthy to push things so far, to make you come on his hand when he knows this is over – and yet, he can’t bring himself to stop. If this is all Jungkook gets, he at least wants you to remember. 

“I did,” you gasp. “I needed it so bad.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Because no one else gets you like this, huh?”

“N-no one,” you pant, a tremor to your voice.

“What was that?”

“No one but you, Jungkook,” you amend, and he grunts in approval.

“Turn around,” he demands and steps backwards.

You obey, hands pressed to the door as you lower your head. A shiver runs down Jungkook’s spine, seeing how much you trust him. Stepping closer, he eases your legs apart with one hand. Removing your panties, Jungkook lets them fall and presses his hips to your ass from behind.

“Did you bring a condom?” he murmurs, savoring your intake of breath.

Your head tips back a little. “I – no,” you blurt, eyes widening. “I didn’t think of it.”

Satisfaction seeps through his chest when Jungkook realizes you didn’t plan on sleeping with Liam. That’s something, at least. Something he can give you that no one else can. 

Chuckling lowly, he caresses your ass – only to bring his palm down. “Didn’t think of it,” Jungkook breathes, dragging two fingers through your dripping sex. “Hm. I don’t believe that.”

“Don’t” – a sharp inhale – “believe what?”

Spanking you again, Jungkook presses you against the door. “I don’t think you forgot a condom,” he murmurs, low in your ear. “I think that you wanted my cum inside you. Is that right? Want me to fuck you raw?”

He pauses, waiting for your reaction before he continues. You let out a whimper, pressing your ass backwards in clear invitation. Fuck. Jungkook nearly swears out loud, consumed by the thought of what it would feel like. Sex without a condom has never been practical for him but now, Jungkook finds himself imagining.

Slowly, he circles your dripping entrance. Sliding his finger inside, Jungkook lets you adjust before he pulls out. “You’re such a dirty girl,” he exhales, adding a second finger.

Pushing backwards, your legs widen slightly to accommodate him. Jungkook slowly moves in and out, stretching your entrance.

“Tell me you don’t want that,” he murmurs. “Me, bending you over and fucking you hard in this closet. Filling you up to the brim with my cum.”

It’s hard for Jungkook to concentrate once the thought has been voiced. If he can’t have you the way he wants to, he can at least pretend. When you moan your approval, it only stokes his flames higher.

“I could do that right now,” Jungkook continues, dropping his voice. “Fuck you so hard, then cum inside this perfect pussy. When I’m done, I’ll tug your panties up, put on your dress and send you back out there. Except” – his voice catches – “I’ll know. And you’ll know that your sweet, little pussy has been used by me. Belongs to me. Is full of me.”

You groan, arching into him while his fingers fill you. The image is provocative, imagining his claim when you return to Liam. Even if you don’t want Jungkook like that, your body clearly does – and Jungkook knows he can satisfy you better than anyone. The thought of his cum dripping down your thigh when you return to your date brings more than a little dark satisfaction.

“Jungkook,” you pant. 

“What, princess?” he murmurs, refocusing on the present.

“I – I’m close.”

“Already?” Grazing his teeth against your shoulder, Jungkook quickens his pace. “Let’s give you an orgasm to start, then.”

You whimper, thighs trembling as he pushes you over the edge. It’s not long before you gasp his name, spasming around Jungkook until he withdraws his fingers.

Exhaling slowly, you hang your head. Tugging down his zipper, Jungkook doesn’t waste any time. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a condom and rips this open. The tear of the packet makes you turn your head.

Dazed, your gaze latches onto the motion. “You… had a condom on you?”

Jungkook smirks and rolls this on. “You seemed to enjoy the idea of my cum inside you.”

Your eyes narrow, but you don’t disagree and Jungkook steps forward to press his cock to your core. Any trace of annoyance vanishes, replaced by desire as he drags his cock up and down. Jungkook nearly swears when he feels how wet you are, rubbing his head against your swollen clit. 

Slowly, he leans forward to press you against the door. “Is this what you want?” Jungkook urges, reaching lower to grasp his length with one hand. Casually, he smacks your clit with his cock. “Want my cock inside this needy pussy?”

“God, yes,” you groan as you lower your head.

Hearing this is searing and suddenly, Jungkook doesn’t feel like playing games. “Good,” he agrees and thrusts forward.

You gasp when he enters, gaze focused on the place where he fills you. Jungkook nearly swears when he feels the slickness of your heat, the easy way you envelop him when he slides in. Pausing halfway, he waits until you adjust before pushing further. Slow, easy thrusts until you take his whole length.

Jungkook grunts when he bottoms out, hips pressed snugly against your ass. Refusing to move, he begins to tease your body. Sliding one hand up your torso to cup your full breast in his palm. Casual, he plays with your tit as he starts to thrust – pulling back out, only to slide slowly in.

He does this again and again, memorizing your body until your patience disappears. Taking over the rhythm, you set the pace and push back on his cock. Jungkook allows you to lead before deciding enough is enough and resuming control. Grasping your hip, he presses you to the door and feels you inhale.

Your body melts with his, showcasing your trust and Jungkook nearly breaks. Thrusting forward, he fills you with everything that you crave. You want him to fuck you? So be it. You want him to give you an orgasm? Jungkook will do it. He’ll give you everything you ask, even if it costs him himself.

Touching your body everywhere he can reach, Jungkook feels a building urgency. Playing with your clit, teasing your breast, turning your face sideways to lick up your throat. Savoring your taste, he pounds into your body and hopes against reason you’ll remember tonight.

Based on the way your body trembles, the prospect is promising. Jungkook knows that he’s big. It’s something he’s heard before, but you take him so easily and without complaint. He knows you enjoy the sensation, that you appreciate the feeling of too-fullness he gives. The thought makes him even harder, his cock throbbing with each punishing thrust into your slick heat.

Sliding one palm underneath your knee, Jungkook opens you further and fully lets go. He feels your body constrict, fluttering around him to let him know you’re close.

“That’s it,” he grunts, gripping your jaw to turn your face to his. “Is this what you want? Want me to make you come?”

Silently, he begs you with his eyes to say something different. That you want more than sex, but nothing in your expression seems to understand.

“Yes,” you gasp, eyelashes fluttering. “Yes.”

Pressing his mouth to yours, Jungkook claims you when you come apart. You squeeze him so tightly, he wonders if you somehow know this might be the last time. Forcing himself to continue until your final wave, Jungkook finally comes in a heated shudder.

He stays there for a moment, breath rising and falling against your bare skin. Squeezing his eyes shut, Jungkook imagines briefly this won’t be the end. That he can leave this closet, walk you back to your family and – here, stops the daydream because you came here with Liam.

Slowly, Jungkook withdraws and ties the condom in a knot. Clearing his throat, he fumbles for words while glancing around the closet.

This is the last time. It has to be the last since Jungkook can’t continue to break himself into pieces. Can’t continue to fuck you and send you home to him.

Quietly, you adjust the strap of your dress. Jungkook keeps his hands still, itching to help but convincing himself not to. Every part of his body screams at him to stay, to do something – say something – but he forces himself to stay.

Tucking himself into his pants, Jungkook pulls up the zipper. He feels the weight of your gaze on his cheek, uncertain. When he finally meets your eyes, Jungkook forces his expression to harden. After a moment, he looks past – towards the door.

Something in your posture stiffens. “Jungkook,” you say, sounding wary. “Why are you here?”

The answer rises to his lips, but Jungkook stamps it back down. He came to apologize. To tell you how he felt but all possibilities ended the moment you entered with Liam.

“Are you dating Liam?” Jungkook asks, the words slipping past. Cursing himself for the sudden lapse, he tries not to notice the way you react. 

“I… what?” 

Jungkook feels his lips tighten. “Are you dating Liam Jessen?”

“We…” You blink, hesitating a moment. “We’ve been on a few dates.”

Neither a yes nor a no, but either way, the words are enough to sink his last hope. Jungkook’s heart drops, and he nods.

Only a few dates is both good and bad. It’s good that the number is small – bad that despite this, you wanted Liam to meet your family. Swallowing hard, Jungkook tastes the scorched earth of his anger. He concentrates on this rather than on sorrow – easier to face you with vitriol in his heart.

Gaze flickering, you step closer. “Jungkook, I –”

“This should probably be the last time we do this, right?” 

You freeze, the heat from your body tangible. The look on your face is shock, clear and uncalculated, and Jungkook’s anger swells in response. You have no right to look at him that way – as though he were the villain breaking your heart.

“You…” Dazed, you shake your head. “We what?”

“You and Liam are together, right?” Jungkook asks, the words coming out sharp.

“Together isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Then what word would you use?” His words bleed with frustration, and Jungkook isn’t sure what he’s searching for. 

Except that’s not true because he does know. If you said you wanted him, Jungkook would end this right now. He’d say that he wants you, and that he wants things to change. Even while thinking this though, Jungkook knows it’s unfair. He can’t expect you to put your heart on the line when he’s not willing to do the same.

Either way, you say nothing and slowly, Jungkook’s frustration vanishes. Any answer would be preferred to this punishing silence. 

“Thought so,” he breathes, grasping for straws. “Wasn’t that part of the rules? We’d fuck until you found someone else to date?”

You recoil slightly, and it takes all Jungkook’s willpower to keep himself still. It’s better this way, he reasons. Better for you to hate him now than peer beneath the surface and see how much he’s hurting.

“That was a long time ago,” you counter. “And that’s not everything I said to you.”

Jungkook suppresses his wince because he knows. He knows things have changed since the night you gave your rules. Remembers with perfect clarity standing in your kitchen and hearing you say Jungkook’s mom would be proud. 

He remembers entering your body later that night, cupping your face with both hands to brush his lips against yours. Jungkook knows things have changed and still, he pushes you away because it seems better – safer – than you pushing him first.

“You’re right,” he says, slipping both hands in his pockets. “You also implied things could end if I caught an STD.”

Your brow furrows. “Jungkook,” you say, reaching for him. “Just stop. Let’s –”

“I have feelings for someone,” he blurts.

At this, your hand freezes. Jungkook wishes you would touch, aches for the brush of your skin but forces himself to stay silent. It’s too late for reconciliation – he can tell by the flashes of emotion chasing each other across your face. 

Shock, confusion, and where he expects anger, Jungkook finds something far worse – hurt.

“Do… I know her?” 

Jungkook’s heart cracks down the middle. He can’t possibly say that you are her. If he did, you’d be forced to choose between him and Liam, and Jungkook already knows how that’d go. Everyone chooses someone else in the end.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says at last.

You stare at him another moment, causing Jungkook to wonder if you see through him. Then, your expression crumples and you withdraw your hand.

“Right,” you whisper.

Jungkook’s resolve falters. “I just… don’t want to drag this out,” he says, and even to his ears, the words sound weak. “I think it would be better to end things now. Before someone gets hurt.” 

The words are nearly cause for laughter because it’s much too late for that. 

“Right,” you exhale. “Is that why you came here tonight?”

When Jungkook pauses, disappointment settles over your features.

“Well, good,” you say, lifting your chin. “Okay. We said we’d hook up as long as it made sense. If it doesn’t make sense, we should end it.”

Something jerks in his stomach. “Y/N…”

A bitter laugh escapes you, reaching backwards. “Don’t Y/N me.”

“I get that you’re upset, but –”

“Upset?” Your entire body freezes, fury limning your eyes. “I’m not upset, Jungkook – I’m pissed. You avoided me for weeks just to show up at my parents’ party, fuck me in a closet and end this? Which – oh my god,” you say, something like horror crossing your face. “We had sex, Jungkook. What would the woman you supposedly like have to say about that?”

Jungkook’s chest seizes, making breathing difficult. Everything you say is true and already, he can tell he’s going to regret this.

“She’d hate it,” he admits, soft.

You pause, brow furrowing. “Well, okay. As long as you… agree with me?”

Jungkook can only stare at you, helpless. “This is for the best, Y/N. I know that it is. You have Liam, and I – well, I made a mistake coming here. I shouldn’t have followed you in here. Or kissed you. I –”

“That’s enough,” you snap.

Your chest rises and falls, anger barely restrained when Jungkook falls silent. He knows he crossed a line, and truthfully, he regrets nothing except how things are ending. And maybe the way he left your place that one morning.

“I really am sorry,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, well.” You take a deep breath, reaching behind you. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, right? We were casual. Only sex. And now we’re nothing.”

It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t thought before, but your words skewer him in a way he didn’t think possible. Light from the hall floods the closet when you leave, striping the floor with Jungkook’s own shadow.

He allows you to go, knowing it’s for the best as he drags a hand down his face. Exhaling deeply, Jungkook tries to suppress the tears pricking his eyelids.

Logic which once seemed simple now seems indecipherable. Jungkook thought ending things would be cleaner but now, he’s not sure. Did you really want Liam to meet your parents, or did it happen by chance? More importantly – were you planning to end things with Jungkook?

A sliver of uncertainty enters his thoughts, but Jungkook forces himself to move on. There’s no point in wondering what-if. You two are over. He won’t see you again.

The enormity of this crashes over him and suddenly, it’s hard for Jungkook to breathe. He forces himself to inhale, taking slow, shallow breaths until the feeling passes. Eventually, Jungkook opens the closet door and steps into the hall. 

Most of the walk to the car is a blur, only sharpening once he settles into the driver’s seat. Clutching the steering wheel with both hands, Jungkook stares at his knuckles. If you weren’t planning on ending things tonight, that would mean Jungkook has turned into the very person he fears.

Cold, blind, and ultimately – hopeless.

© kpopfanfictrash, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[theyareweird]

Vampire Knight: Senri's Yandere for Kianna — Part 16 (Requested)

Daddy Issues

Disclaimer: Depictions of mental health issues.

Walking up the dark brown wooden stairs, Kianna eagerly looked around for her father once she stood at the top. In the foyer, there was a large square railing in the center, which allowed spectators to look down onto the ballroom below. Sure enough, Maku stood over one of the indoor balconies that made up the square railing's perimeter. From where he stood, he had been watching the night class and Kianna from the moment they arrived.

Kianna didn't know what her father would think of Senri, but since they had been together for four months, she thought it was time they finally met. She led her boyfriend by the arm around the nearly empty ballroom in search of her father. When Maku clearly wasn't around the dance floor, she figured he must be upstairs in the foyer.

Maku was dressed in a white and cream colored Victorian suit. His attire wasn't anything elaborate, but it still appeared fancy when paired with a light gray corset strapped around his waist. The second he watched Kianna escort a young man upstairs, he turned to face the couple. Maku's long, black hair swayed as he moved. It was left down and brushed out for the occasion.

Maku instantly recognized the mahogany, nearly red-haired young man on Kianna's arm: Senri Shiki. He was an aristocratic vampire from the night class. Maku had stared into his bored blue-gray eyes enough times to pick him out of a crowd. He never expected his daughter to date a nocturnal creature given their family lineage of Vampire Hunters. Maku especially didn't think Kianna would have been emotionally open to a relationship, considering her elder sister had only died six months ago. He thought school would have been plenty of a distraction to focus on herself. Instead, Kianna was focusing on someone else as her lover.

Kianna and Senri then approached the tall male. The three individuals all had the same emotionless eyes in their flat expressions. "Father, this is my boyfriend, Senri." Kianna announced.

"It's a pleasure to finally be introduced to you, sir." Senri politely replied.

"I wasn't expecting this, Kianna." Maku began. "I was surprised the other day when you texted me about having a boyfriend. I was hoping you would focus more on yourself upon arriving here for a fresh start." He bluntly stated.

Kianna understood where her father was coming from, but it was quite rude of him to blurt all this out in front of Senri. After all, this was simply how life played out for them. "I never anticipated finding a lover at this academy, either. However, things happen." Kianna coldly spat. "Senri has been a good boyfriend so far." She stated in his defense.

Senri nodded respectfully in response. "I care about your daughter, sir. I only want her to be happy." He reassured the man.

Maku's silver-gray eyes remained dull as he looked between the couple's faces. "How long has this been going on?" He enquired.

"Not long after I came to Cross Academy." Kianna replied.

Maku arched an eyebrow and asked, "Since the first week of school?" Kianna nodded. The man in his forties had been an instructor at Cross Academy for the past three months. This was a month after Kianna began her education here. Which meant she already had a boyfriend for a month prior to starting his teaching term.

Maku then glanced at Senri. "You must have known who I was the moment I introduced myself."

"Yes, sir." Senri replied.

"Yet, you never mentioned your relationship with my daughter to me." Maku added.

"It wasn't my place." Senri pointed out.

Kianna then turned to look up at Senri beside her. "Really?" She asked.

Senri then redirected his attention towards his date. "He's your father. You should tell him about me when you're ready."

Maku hummed in understanding. He had a bit of appreciation towards the vampire for respecting Kianna's thoughts and feelings. "Your partnership is unusual considering our origins," Maku said, referring to their Vampire Hunter bloodline. "but Cross has also been open to this kind of paring in the past." He sighed, referring to the headmaster's late vampire lover.

Although Maku thought the situation was odd, he knew this boy meant something to his daughter if she had been in a relationship with him for some time now. Not to mention, he was also taken back a bit the moment Kianna defended Senri. This told Maku, his daughter already has strong feelings for the vampire even if either of them had yet to confess their feelings for one another.

Kianna and Senri said nothing in return. Instead, Maku decided to end their conversation for now. He had learned a bit about their relationship and where Kianna stood on the matter. After dismissing the couple, Maku returned to observing Senri and Kianna from above. One thing he couldn't comprehend was why his daughter would subject herself to a blood sucking lover after everything she went through with the Sakamaki and Mukami Brothers.

According to Kianna, she and her older sister were constantly fed upon by the two groups of vampires as blood sacrifices. Even though the pair of sisters were forced to use syringes and drainage tubes to supply their captors with blood, the experience was still traumatizing. Both the Sakamaki and Mukami families implemented verbal abuse into their daily lives. This way, Yui and Kianna would be emotionally and psychologically tortured into draining their crimson bodily fluids every day to survive.

Noting this, Maku couldn't help but wonder if Mr. Shiki could possibly have the same goal in mind for Kianna. Otherwise, his daughter might be suffering from some kind of mental health issue. Maku theorized Kianna is perhaps dealing with survivor's guilt over losing Yui only six months ago. If this was the case, maybe she could have subconsciously picked Senri as a romantic partner to punish herself by being repeatedly bitten or offering her blood in some other way, knowing exchanging blood has emotional meaning for vampires.

Requested: @nunezs-stuff

Regardless, Maku thought he should let the matter go for now. He figured he would confront Kianna about the potential problem another time. Maku didn't want to ruin the night for his daughter.

Meanwhile, Kianna and Senri returned to the ground floor. There, the ballroom was now packed with students all dressed in formal attire. Conversations could be heard left and right, but the orchestra had yet to start the first dance.

"Want me to grab us something to eat while we wait?" Senri asked. Kianna allowed her lips to form a small smile as she nodded in approval. With that, Senri left to one of the large buffet tables nearby.

When Senri was across the room, Azusa approached Kianna. He was dressed in the same manner as Senri, opting for his school uniform. However, Azusa had a red rose tucked into the beast pocket of his jacket, indicating he didn't come with a date. "Evening, Alice!" The blue-green haired male greeted.

"Good evening, Azusa." Kianna replied, kindly curtsying to him.

Azusa then stretched out a hand to Kianna and asked, "Will you save me a dance?"

Kianna nervously frowned at this. "I'm sorry, but it's impolite to dance with someone other than your date."

"Really? I thought the masochist was your date." A gruff voice spoke out from behind Kianna.

Kianna immediately whipped her body around to suddenly gaze up at a familiar pale face. The figure was five-foot ten. His scarlet red eyes with a slight pinkish hue bore down at Kianna's profile. "Subaru?!"

[aurorawest]

Reading update, part 2

The Perplexing Theft of the Jewel in the Crown by Vaseem Khan - 4/5 stars

All the Way Happy by Kit Coltrane - DNF

Couldn't get past the fact that it was blatantly Drarry fanfiction that had had the serial numbers filed off. It was seriously distracting. I don't have an issue with fic authors doing that (I'M ONE OF THEM), but this read like a find and replace had been done on the names, and nothing else had been changed. If the prose hadn't been so overwrought I might have enjoyed it, but the combination of Drarry AU + purple prose was just too cringey for me.

Total Creative Control by Joanna Chambers and Sally Malcolm - 5/5 stars

Ahhhhh I loved this book. I've only read Chambers's historical fiction so I was curious what this would be like, and it was so good. So so good.

Also, sometimes my wife says stuff and I'm like 'that's not a real thing that English people say, that's probably some weird thing her family says.' But then I'll read it in a book by an English person and I am schooled. Anyway that happened several times in this book.

The Name Bearer by Natalia Hernandez - DNF

I don't mind a slow-paced book but there was just so much info dumping in the first chapter, when chapter 2 started with more info dumping, I gave up.

Crossroads by Riley Hart - DNF

This book started with a description of the main character's apartment. There wasn't anything special about it, nor was it described in a unique way. I DNFed halfway through page 2. I know I have another Riley Hart book sitting in my TBR, which I will be digging out bringing to my local bookstore's used book buyback.

Godkiller by Hannah Kaner - 4.5/5 stars

Did Not Expect to enjoy this one. I got this in an IllumiCrate and I just remember the little blurby thing you get where the author talks about the book saying something about how she loves angry women. I'm over it. Angry is not a personality! Stop writing women who are angry and thinking you've written a well-rounded character!

But actually this book was really good! Predictable, but a good read. Unusually, my favorite character was the child. It helped that she had an adorable hare/bird/deer god of white lies following her around.

Tommy Cabot Was Here by Cat Sebastian - 5/5 stars

I love Sebastian's regency romances but I might love this series more. This is a very, very quick read (right around 100 pages) but she's just so good at creating these wonderful, fully-realized characters that you love from the first sentence.

As You Walk on By by Julian Winters - 2/5 stars

So at this point I think I have to concede that Julian Winters is not the author for me. He's constantly lauded as this wonderful writer whose books will make you smile for days. This is the third one I've read and I nearly DNFed it. The only thing that kept me going, ironically, was that I really liked the love interest and was rooting for them to get together. Typically I find the romances in Julian Winters books to be very flat and un-swoony. This one was actually quite nice though.

But the main character. Jesus Christ. He's SO annoying. Him and his shitty BFF who he falls out with deserve each other, honestly. There's only so many times I can sympathize with you because you have a comfortable, middle-class life and you go to a fancy pants private school, but waaaaah sometimes your friends don't say exactly the right thing about you being queer. Also having your MC tell the teenage girl who gets slut-shamed, gossiped about, and sexually harassed everywhere she goes that actually she doesn't have it as bad because she's white was...an interesting touch.

And idk if the Youth actually act and talk the way the teenagers do in this book, but if they do, I'm very glad I don't know any teenagers.

Why did I rate this book 2 stars instead of 1? Oh! I really liked Luca. He deserved a better book. And I liked River a lot, too. And the fact that this was clearly a take on The Breakfast Club was fun, just...not executed as well as I would have liked.

Part 1

[canis-or-cannotis-lycaon]

The Small Talk Between the Voices

TIMING: June 8th PARTIES: Bridie (@itzbridiebitch) and Gael (@lithium-argon-wo-l-f) SUMMARY: Gael wants some half-price drinks and finds a very distracted Bridie. Turns out having voices in your head isn't all it's cracked up to be. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

Alone at the bar wasn’t typical for Bridie. 

Bridie was typically the one who would be in the center of a group, or wrapping someone new around her little finger at the bar with ease. 

But she typically didn’t have voices rattling through her mind. She hadn’t noticed it before that first night, but it didn’t sound like they ever really stopped. There was a noise like incoherent whispers in her mind that she could hear in the silence. It was the voices- three now instead of just the one. They seemed content to be soft cacophonous whispers until they had something to say, when their voices sounded out clear as day. So instead of listening to their jabbering, she sat at the bar. But she couldn’t bring herself to do what she usually did. Not until she was so lost in intoxication that the voices would hopefully be a distant memory. 

She stared down into the rocks glass of Tennessee whiskey when she heard something outside her head other than the music, and she startled. Looking up, Bridie realized it was a person, and not a new voice to join her descent into madness. Thank fucking god. She thought. A dark chuckle rang through her mind, and she fought a flinch off. “Sorry,” she said, forcing her usual smile onto her face. “Did you say something?”

—— Half-price drinks at Tír na nÓg? Sign Gael up. He wasn’t one to turn down a good offer and as he made his way into the unusual-looking nightclub, his keen eyes scanning the darkened area that was highlighted in neon and ultraviolet. While normally he wasn’t opposed to just finding a spot to sit in general, he tended to be gravitated towards loners - a stranger was a friend you just hadn’t met yet. Sure enough, she saw a woman sitting at the bar, slouched and keeping her gaze focused on her drink. Maybe Gael should play cautious so he did, approaching her slowly and leaning to be seen in her field of vision instead of touching her. “Afternoon,” He said gently but clearly enough for her to know it was him that said it. She reacted by looking up at him and he smiled, straightening up. “No apologies, I just said ‘afternoon’,” he repeated, putting one of his hands in his pockets and pointing to the empty stool next to her. “May I?” He asked. “I… didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” She was attractive but he wasn’t surprised by that anymore in this town.

—— Afternoon. Right. He was just being friendly and greeting her. Bridie typically would have been the one greeting. The one setting out after people and making new connections. Now she was so lost in her mind she hadn’t even heard something as simple as afternoon. She should have been grateful she’d fed recently, otherwise the fear of what would happen if she couldn’t properly endure euphoria would have her in a chokehold. 

She nodded, gesturing to the seat. “Sure thing.” Bridie’s eyes grew vacant a moment as one of the voices rose in her mind, hissing about where they’d buried the person they’d murdered. Shut up, shut up, shut up. The faun’s eyes screwed shut a moment, until the voice had ebbed back into the background. She let out a sigh, before realizing he’d asked a follow up question. “Oh. Oh! No, no you’re totally fine, you didn’t interrupt anything at all. Just sitting. Nothing crazy.” Ha. Crazy. Ironic choice of words. She held out a hand to shake, forcing herself through the normal routine of it. “I’m Bridie.”

—— She seemed… distracted, Gael thought as he sat down next to her and he felt his brow furrow slightly with what could’ve been uncertainty. Then a sigh before she regarded his statement with her own though he got the impression that she was… No, he was already assuming too much of her. Nothing crazy. People often frequented bars when they had something on their mind, she was probably no exception. Gael took her hand and gave it a firm shake accompanied with a soft smile. “Gael.” He replied. “What’s a lovely lady like you doing at a bar by yourself?” He found himself asking, keeping his studied eyes on her. “Not to intrude but it seemed like there was something on your mind.” He then turned to face the bar, leaning against it casually. “Not that it’s even remotely my business. Obviously you don’t have to disclose anything to me. I’m just here for the good deal on drinks,” He grinned to himself.

——

She finally looked at him- really looked at him. Nice smile, Bridie assessed, pretty eyes. She was a sucker for pretty eyes. If this little exchange had happened even a little earlier, maybe a few weeks prior, she would have oozed charm. Would have been dedicated to ensuring this man had the best night of his goddamn life. Instead, now Bridie was just trying to make it through the interaction without scaring off a patron by making them think she was batshit insane. She was sure the aura that caused people to lose their inhibitions and dive headfirst into their euphoria still hung around her. It always did. But she was too lost in her mind to help push people along the right path. “Pleasure to meet you, Gael.”

Shit, so much for no one noticing. It wasn’t entirely surprising. Bridie had never had much of a poker face. It sort of went with the territory of not being able to lie. “I’m not technically alone- you’re sitting next to me now. And the bar is full of people.” It was easy enough, falling into her usual bubbly cadence. Laughing a moment, she nodded in approval. “Well if you like half priced drinks, I can do you one better. Stevie!” She flagged down the bartender, who’s expression translated to what now? “Stevie, babycakes, this is Gael. Gael does not pay for his drinks today. Capiche?” The bartender nodded, grumbling something about the pink haired woman never letting anyone pay for their own goddamn drinks, and how that was a terrible business model.

 She would have loved to tell someone what was going on. Would have been so relieved to get it off her chest. But you couldn’t exactly say ‘Hi, my names Bridie, I’m a Pisces, I enjoy long walks on the beach, parties that go far too late into the night; and oh by the way I think I’m losing my mind because there are voices in my head now that aren’t mine!’ But she had to say something in response. “I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep lately.” She said by way of an explanation. It would hopefully explain the thousand yard stare she’d had when he’d approached. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before. I think I’d remember you.”

—— “Touche, madam,” Gael replied casually, glancing around as Bridie called for the bartender to– make his drinks free. “Wait, you–” He cut himself off, having a feeling that insisting that he could pay for his own drinks was fine and not an insult to Bridie, who was… was she the owner? She was obviously a higher up if she could just make it so that he didn’t have to pay for drinks. Then again, the shift put him a little on edge - he was usually pretty go-with-the-flow but there were a few instances that gave him pause when things suddenly shifted like that. However, Gael played it casual and though he hadn’t ordered a drink yet, he kept his dark eyes on Bridie as the latter spoke. She hadn’t been sleeping well either? He made a note to bring that up but first… “Oh, I’ve never been here before,” He explained. “I moved to town about five months ago and I have more free time than I did like a month ago.” He glanced around at the location briefly before he gave the woman a sympathetic smile. “But I know what you mean. About… not getting good sleep.” His expression softened. “I know we just met but is there anything I can do to help?” He asked.

She couldn’t help the soft laugh the escaped her at his surprised expression. It never got old. Whether it was the delight of free drinks, or the surprise that came with a stranger buying you something for little to no reason, the surprise always made Bridie happy. She liked surprises. Or at least she had. Until she woke up in the middle of the night with an unwelcome surprise in her mind. An almost serpentine voice hissed in her mind and she shuddered. At least she could play that off as being cold.

“Well that explains it. Welcome to Tír na nÓg!” Her usually peppy voice was much more subdued. Bridie knew it was due in no small part to the exhaustion she was feeling. But this was still her club, so she still had to make an effort. “Settling in can always be busy. Where did you move from?” She blinked a moment, focusing on the words spoken outside her head. “No, no you don’t need to help. I’ll sleep eventually, I’m sure.”

—— As to be expected, she declined his help, not that Gael knew what he could’ve done but he always tried to make the effort to extend the arm. He reciprocated with a small nod and folded his arms over each other as he leaned against the bar, looking sideways at the women. He almost said “Thank you” but after getting mentioned several times that it wasn’t a good custom in the town, he stopped himself. “It’s good to be here,” He responded instead, smiling. “Most recently, I moved from Massachusetts,” He said mildly, raising his brows slightly. “But originally I’m from Guatemala.” She didn’t ask that part but Gael decided to throw that in for good measure. He picked up one of the fanciful drink menus and started to peruse it. “How long you been here?” He asked her now. “I’m assuming… do you own this bar?”

“Massachusetts and Guatemala,” she echoed, nodding her head slowly. “Very nice. I moved here from New York, but I’m a Nashville girl originally.” Bridie watched as he looked over the drink menu before a voice caught her attention. She glanced over her shoulder, still half expecting to see someone addressing her. But no… she turned back to Gael, trying to let the worry roll off her. 

“I’ve been in town… maybe almost a year now?” Bridie scrunched up her nose as she did the math. “It took a few months, but I got this place up and running.” She gave a sharp nod. “Yep! Owner, promoter, partier, occasional mix master, and cocktail connoisseur. If you like margaritas, Stevie makes an incredible one.”

—— “All of that?” Gael asked, raising his eyebrows and pushing past the fact that she looked over her shoulder expectantly, as though someone had called for her attention but opting out of saying anything about it right then. “You’re a lady of many talents and you know what, I’ll take you up on your word that Stevie makes incredible margaritas.” With that, it was his turn to call over the bartender, where he ordered the drink with agave syrup and, of course, salt around the rim. As the drink was being prepared, Gael kept his eyes on Bridie, almost as though searching for something but he didn’t know what it was he was looking for. “It looks really good,” He complimented, gesturing to the room. “I think the reason why I never came by was because I couldn’t pronounce the name,” He laughed at his own shortcoming, but the laugh didn’t last too long before his expression softened. “Did I bother you at a bad time?” He asked the same question in a different way. “It just… seems like you’re waiting for someone.” He paused. “Am I making you uncomfortable? If I am, I apologize; I can go sit somewhere else.” Suddenly tensing up, he made a motion as though to rise from his seat and he pointed over his shoulder at– he wasn’t even sure where but the last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable.

——

She grinned at the compliment. “All of that. I have to keep busy if I’m gonna make sure everyone has a good time, right?” Most nights she did a good job of that. But most nights she wasn’t losing her mind. 

Bridie laughed, as close a laugh as she could manage to her usual one. It was a duller sound than usual, edged with exhaustion. “I get that a lot. So it’s ‘tear’, like you’re crying ‘na’ like exactly how you would think it sounds, and ‘noog’. Tír na nÓg.” One of the voices decided it liked the name of her club, chattering it incessantly until it became one long word. Her eyes dimmed a bit, but she managed not to wince. She blinked as she registered what he said and her heart sank. “No! Ohmigosh, no, you’re fine! I’m sorry, you’re totally fine, please, sit!” Great, now she was making customers think they were bothering her. How much worse could this get?

—— Gael, after considering maybe getting out of the beleaguered woman’s hair so she wouldn’t have to keep entertaining his inquiries, adjusted in his seat once more and turned to face her again; he wasn’t sure what was wrong but he felt bad that whatever it was, he couldn’t help. So instead, he did what he could and he listened intently to how she was saying the name - far be it for him to purposely mispronounce things. “Tír na nÓg.” He repeated unsurely, his brow furrowing in the middle slightly. “It’s a lot different than Spanish, I’ll give it that much,” Gael leaned back in his seat and rubbed one of his temples - Spanish and Latin were one thing but he didn’t do well on the languages that weren’t from the same root. “You said you’ve been here a year; mind if I ask where you hail from?” He opted for small talk - get the conversation away from whatever was bothering her, break the ice. Be kind.

Whether or not Gael realized he was helping, he was. Even if she was struggling to get through a social interaction with the current state of affairs in her head,  he was letting Bridie pretend everything was fine. Pretend the hellish crusade in her head wasn’t there, even as it actively whispered in her ear. 

“Yep, you’ve got it!” She chirped, pleased with the attempt. “I’ve heard a lot of variations from people coming through. I don’t mind, so long as they pay the cover.” Bridie smiled, a stilted attempt, but it looked better than some of her previous tries. “I am from Nashville, Tennessee. Born and raised. I had a brief stint in New York though. Had another club there- Avalon, it was called.”

—— Oh duh, she already told him that. His expression reflected that and he couldn’t stop himself from saying “I’m sorry, you already said that”. Gael recovered quickly though and he laughed at his own lack of listening. “Tennessee to New York to here - one of those is a little different than the others.” He paused. “I’ve heard of Avalon though, that’s from… that’s from like all the fantasy stuff. Arthurian?” He had no idea if that was correct, he just knew it was a popular set piece for fantasy. “What brought you to Wicked’s Rest?” Gael asked. “...And if you’ve already answered that then feel free to give me a look and make me pay for my drink - I think I just got distracted by how pretty your hair is.” He attempted to pass off his fool question, hoping she wouldn’t take offense.

“No worries,” she said. It was practically her mantra. Or it was, before her head became all worries, all the time, always. “Yeah, Wickeds Rest is definitely different.” She shrugged. “But I got the place for a song. I couldn’t resist.”  Bridie nodded happily, hoping the voices rattled around in her head with each movement. “Yep! I have a bit of a naming theme. What can I say, I like stories.”

The first real smile of the night crept across her face. She raised a hand to her hair at the compliment. “Flattery will get you everywhere, babes. Your tab is still free.”  The smile slipped a little. “It is a long story that ultimately ends in business legal people of the big apple and I disagreed on some things. So I got a new place up here.”

—— “Wait, you got it after a song?” Gael repeated, hearing the rest of what she said but that part caught his attention in general. However, she mentioned that it was a long story so he cleared his throat and decided to move on. “Good to know my tab is still free,” He attempted to fill the space with small talk as Stevie brought the margarita to the bar, where he thanked the bartender and pulled the drink closer to himself. He took a sip, letting the feeling of the alcohol warm his features and he raised his eyebrows, looking over at her. “This IS really good!” Gael’s expression brightened and he took another drink as thoughts got going in his head. Strangely, he found himself insufficient on small talk but he could also tell that something else was on her mind. Surely she wasn’t usually like this - Gael was under the impression that it might be difficult to own a bar if one wasn’t a fan of participating in said bar. What did he know, though? Well, one thing he did is that his head tilted subconsciously as a familiar song started chiming through the building, in the air and dancing through his mind. “Hey, I love this song!” He said with enthusiasm in his tone and he was struck with an idea, something he could offer to Bridie to maybe help distract her, if only temporarily, from whatever demons she might’ve been fighting in her head. He stood up, keeping his eyes on her and he leaned slightly, offering a hand out to her. “May I have this dance, my lady?” Gael asked, putting on a playful but genuinely gentlemanly tone.

——

“Figure of speech babes. Though I probably was humming while signing all the bullshit paperwork. I got it for cheap.” Buying a club with a rickety old music hall with a haunted bathroom certainly drove prices way down. Bridie cocked a knowing eyebrow as he took a sip, and she waited. “I never lie, babes. Especially not about something as important as a good margarita.”

The dj had a solid set that night. She couldn’t remember their name, but they were one of the few people who’s sets she wouldn’t interrupt to change the music. They had excellent taste, and there was no shortage of bodies moving on the dance floor. 

Any other night, Bridie would have gotten shots for this man. She would have half dragged him onto the dance floor already. She wouldn’t have waited for him to say he liked a song, and she definitely wouldn’t have waited for him to ask her to dance. But here they were. Him with his hand extended, and Bridie with stupid fucking voices making her life a nightmare. She wanted to ignore them. To keep going like nothing was wrong. 

Bridie took his hand. “I would love to.”

—— He waited, holding his breath even though he wasn’t going to be offended at all if she said no. If she had, he might’ve gracefully excused himself from her presence to go… anywhere else or maybe even dance by himself even though he couldn’t. Speaking of, when she took his hand and his expression lightened, Gael carefully but enthusiastically pulled her onto the wide, sparsely-populated dance floor. “By the way, is this a bad time to mention that I’m terrible at dancing?” Gael made himself heard over the music, a more genuine smile covered his face - he wasn’t being disingenuous before, of course, but it felt clinical, like he was just smiling out of obligation but now he felt the beat pulse through him, her warmth in his hand, her body against his. She was alive, he was alive and even if she had something on or in her mind, he could help alleviate some of it, if only for the next few minutes.

[berenwrites]

Beyond the Battle - Chapter 17 - Stranger Things - Steddie

Beyond the Battle­: Action & Consequence

Click here for All Posted Chapters

Summary: Steve hits things with a bat or gets hit depending on who you ask. He definitely does not have anything to do with the psychic stuff. That is El’s domain. However, as Vecna is defeated, the rules change.

Pairing: steddie (Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson)

Other Relationships: Steve & Robin, Steve & Dustin, Eddie & Dustin

Rating: Teen

A/N: Multi-chapter story, updated regularly. Honestly not sure how many chapters it will have yet because it's still a bit hand wavy in the middle, but definitely more than 12. Thank you to my beta for find my mistakes and to all those who read/like/reblog.💖 Follow #st:beyond-the-battle for updates.

Also on AO3

Chapter 17.    From Outside

Waking up to a banging on the front door was not how Steve expected his morning to go. Sunlight was flooding through the window where the blinds and curtains were open, and Eddie was curled up beside and half over him. All in all, it made him smile. Then the banging came again and distracted him.

“What the hell?” Eddie asked, peering at him in a barely awake manner.

He looked positively adorable with his curls in a wild mess.

“I think we slept in,” Steve said, glancing at the clock on the side and seeing it read 9:53.

He was a little amazed. That he had managed to sleep again after the nightmare was not as unusual as it once had been, but that he had slept so long and so peacefully was. The banging returned.

“I better go and answer that,” he said, reluctantly separating from Eddie.

Eddie whined and buried his face in the pillow Steve had just vacated, which was all kinds of cute. Shaking his head at how far gone he clearly was, Steve headed downstairs, running his fingers through his hair. He opened the door to find Robin on his doorstep.

“About time,” she said, waltzing straight past him.

“You have a key,” Steve pointed out, yawning, and rubbing one eye.

“Didn’t want to walk in on anything,” Robin replied.

“All you’d have seen was some first-rate cuddling,” he said.

“Oh my,” Robin said, looking at him with one of her analytical expressions that slowly broke into a smile, “you’ve got it bad. You should see the dopy smile on your face.”

“Thank you so much for your insightful analysis, Doctor Robin,” he responded in his best bitchy tone, not that he could really deny it.

His best friend snorted a laugh at him.

“Awww, Stevie is in wuv,” she said.

He could feel the blush spreading up his face as he totally failed to reply to that.

“Oh my god, you are,” Robin said, dropping the teasing tone.

“I… um… I don’t know,” he stuttered.

He’d only been in love once and he’d fallen hard and fast. It had ripped his heart out when Nancy had told him it was all bullshit, not that he really blamed her. Being older and wiser he could see it from her point of view as well. Not that it changed how he had felt, however. He’d only had Eddie back a couple of days, only really known him for a week before that. He was almost sure he was still in the falling stage, but now Robin had said it, he couldn’t ignore it was happening.

“Deep breath, Dingus,” Robin said, placing a hand on his arm.

“He played and sang Bridge Over Troubled Water for me last night after I had a nightmare,” he confessed as the warmth of the memory curled through his chest.

“Eddie knows Bridge Over Troubled Water?” Robin asked, eyebrows raising.

“Hidden depths,” he said, “but not really the point. I had a nightmare, a bad one, he played me music, we fell asleep and didn’t wake up until you banged on the door.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean,” Robin replied, because she knew him almost as well as he knew himself. “Still happy for you, Steve,” she said, giving him a big smile, “but if you need to freak out, you always know where to find me.”

“Thanks,” he said.

He had a lot to think about it seemed.

“So that means you haven’t had breakfast yet then?” Robin asked and broke him out of his reverie.

“It’s always food with you,” he complained.

“Like you don’t love feeding people,” she said. “Chop, chop, go rouse that metalhead boyfriend of yours, I fancy French Toast this morning.”

“Do you not have food at your house?” he griped, even as he headed towards the stairs.

“You expect me to make my own breakfast when I have you, my devoted, platonic soulmate to do it for me?” she made a dismissive noise. “Are you kidding?”

“Oh, of course,” he replied as he began to climb, “how could I have been so dumb?”

“I don’t know, how could you?” came the immediate response. “Be quick or I may have to root around in your cupboards for snacks.”

“Robin, do not touch my cupboards … Robin,” but it was too late, she was already disappearing into the kitchen.

He resigned himself to coming back down to chaos, since Robin was clearly in one of those moods. However, he couldn’t really focus on that because he had bed-head Eddie to look forward to back in his room. Robin could wait for a little, while he enjoyed waking up his boyfriend properly. They hadn’t actually discussed what they were officially, but he was pretty sure the whole midnight music and cuddling all night thing gave him the right to at least think it.

~*~

The walkie crackled into life while Steve was loading the dishwasher. Eddie had offered, but the dishwasher had a few quirks, it probably needed replacing, so Steve had politely declined to do it himself.

“Code M, repeat Code M, over,” came through loud and clear in Lucas’ voice.

“What’s code M?” Eddie asked.

“Max,” Robin said, standing up and walking over to where the device was on the side.

“Ears on, over,” Dustin’s voice responded almost instantly.

“Ears on here,” Will said with others in the background. and Mike replied shortly as well.

“Ears on at Steve’s,” Robin added.

“Guys,” Lucas told them excitedly, “I just spoke to Max’s mom, they’re transferring Max back to Hawkins General today. Over.”

“That’s awesome,” came from Dustin, because of course Dustin was first. “Does that mean we’ll finally be able to visit her? Over.”

“Yeah,” Lucas replied. “I asked and her mom said she’d like that. It sucks they wouldn’t let us before. Over”

“Yeah,” Mike added.

The hospital Max had been evacuated to had been overcrowded thanks to the emergency so only immediate family members had been allowed to visit patients. It had caused quite a ruckus among the party when they had not been permitted to go straight away. Only Hopper putting his foot down firmly had stopped a minor invasion anyway.

“Look, I have to run, Mom has me cleaning the garage. Max’s mom said they probably won’t be here until late afternoon. We should talk later. Over,” Lucas said.

“El says we’ll come rescue you later. Over.” Will promised with a laugh.

“Thanks, Guys. Over and out,” Lucas said.

There followed a few moments of everyone else signing off. Steve finished the dishwasher and closed it, before glancing over at Eddie who looked back in a way that had him believing Eddie knew exactly what he was thinking about.

“Okay, what’s that look for?” Robin asked, fixing Steve with one of her penetrating stares.

“I can help Max,” he said, going with the simple truth.

“Steve, while I appreciate you are willing to risk yourself for others, you don’t know that,” Robin said.

“No, I do,” he told her. “I can help her.”

“How are you so sure?” his best friend asked.

He shared another glance with Eddie.

“Because I did it for Hopper,” he confessed.

“You what? When?” she demanded.

“Last night,” Eddie provided for him, “after everyone else left. Seems they conspired when none of us were looking.”

“I didn’t quite finish, but he’s mostly fixed,” Steve said. “It was different than what I did for you and Dustin, and Eddie, but I think that had more to do with the Void … um … anyway, I can do it.”

“You convinced Hopper to let you by bringing up Max, didn’t you?” Robin said, giving him an exasperated look.

She knew him far too well. Maybe they really did share a brain sometimes.

“Yes,” he replied, wincing a little at the way she glared at him.

Eddie laughed, because apparently his pain was funny.

“You are unbelievable,” she scolded him, shaking her head. “You couldn’t even give yourself a few days to rest and recuperate?”

“I don’t think it quite works that way,” he said.

“Then explain it to me,” Robin said, “because I’m really beginning to worry, okay?”

He walked over and sat in the chair next to her.

“Sorry,” he told her, doing his best to organise his thoughts because he did want those he cared about to understand. “When I healed Hopper, it needed more than me just speeding up his body’s normal healing, because some of it was damage that had already healed wrong. I had to think about it differently and I kind of saw what I was doing.”

“You visualised it?” Robin asked.

He nodded.

“There’s like a pool of energy in me,” he continued. “It’s bright, metallic, and it didn’t get smaller when I used it, it got duller. With Hop I could feel when it was time to stop, so I did. But as soon as I, well, refuelled I supposed…”

“I made a stack of grilled cheese,” Eddie offered.

“It got brighter again. I was still tired, but I could have gone straight back in if I needed to,” he explained.

“You were tired because you’d been concentrating hard for over two hours,” Eddie said.

Steve shrugged, that seemed about right.

“So, you’re saying as long as you eat, this reservoir inside of you keeps getting recharged, and you just have to deal with the stress you’ve put yourself through physically by focussing so hard, not how much energy you used for the actual healing?” Robin summarised.

“Yes, I think so,” he replied. “Healing Hopper was harder because it was mostly active, I had to make it happen like chasing down another player and stealing the ball. Healing you and Dustin was easy because I didn’t have to push it as much, like going through the motions on a learned play. And Eddie, well…”

“Involved Upside Down shit, so all bets are off,” Eddie finished for him.

“Okay, sports metaphors aside, I think I get it,” Robin said. “But what about pushing too hard? It happened to El, couldn’t it happen to you?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “It’s not the same as making things move, that feel harsher, wrong, at least to me, but I do still get the nosebleeds.”

Robin pursed her lips.

“I think I would know though,” he added before she could say anything. “If I was crossing that line, I think I’d know.”

“I wish that was comforting,” Robin said, shaking her head, “but I’ve seen you step right across lines just like that more than once.”

“I try not to,” was the best he could do as an apology.

“Ugh!” Robin threw her hands into the air.

“And there’s also the question of how are you going to heal Max without the government finding out?” Eddie added. “I assume you don’t want them to know yet.”

Steve sagged, he hadn’t thought of that. He knew sooner or later they were going to have to come clean about him and Will with Owens at the very least, but he’d much rather it was later given that there were factions in the government that had tried very hard to kill El.

“Well, that’s easy,” Robin said, much to his surprise.

“It is?” he asked.

“Yes,” she told him, “we just pretend it is El doing it.”

“I thought you were against this?” Eddie pointed out.

“I am against Steve hurting himself,” Robin replied, “not against the idea in principle. Max is one of ours, if we can help, we should, I just want to make sure Dingus here, doesn’t go running in exploding his brain.”

“Did you watch Scanners again?” Steve asked at her choice of phrase.

“No, I’m still scarred from the first time,” she said and gave him the how-dare-you look.

“I liked that movie,” Eddie said.

“You would,” was Robin’s cutting reply. “Does anyone else know about you healing Hopper?”

He shook his head.

“Well, I expect Joyce does by now,” Eddie commented.

“He wasn’t going to tell her yet,” Steve countered.

“Yeah, but you saw the scar on his neck, right?” Eddie said. “The one that looks like it might have been from a knife or a claw?”

Steve shook his head, he hadn’t noticed that one.

“It looks a lot like ours now,” Eddie revealed. “And Joyce is not a stupid woman, so she’s going to put two and two together, especially if he’s hiding more under his clothes.”

The mental image that conjured in Steve’s head made him wrinkle his nose.

“You just thought of Joyce and Hopper getting naked too, didn’t you?” Robin said very unhelpfully.

“Yep,” he replied, “and it’s like admitting my parents have sex.”

“With you on that one,” Robin agreed, which Eddie found hilarious if his grin was anything to go by. “Moving swiftly on.”

“Sounds like we need another planning meeting,” Eddie said. “That’s if Joyce and Hopper aren’t busy getting their grove on.”

“I hate you,” Robin yelled and put her fingers in her ears, la-ing loudly.

Eddie all but fell off his chair, cackling.

End of Chapter 17

Chapter 18

[seresinhangmanjake]

Jealous Jake and the Biting Problem

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!Reader

Summary: Jake Seresin is your friend with benefits, but he doesn’t appreciate finding the evidence of your other sleepover buddy on your body.

Warnings: talk of and almost oral (f receiving), cursing, um…that might be it. That said, it’s still 18+

Note: I wrote this in about a half hour so don’t judge. I’m sure there are mistakes.

Words: 989

Jealous Jake Masterlist

------

You lay with your back flat against your mattress. He pushes your skirt up around your waist, kissing every bare piece of skin as he makes his way down between your legs. With a firm hand he spreads your thighs further and you shiver from his breath softly caressing your pussy. 

But then he pauses. 

“Wh–” he begins, and you hear the question in his tone before he asks it. “What is this?”

Supported by your elbows, you lean up and peer past your skirt to see his eyes glued to a specific spot on your inner thigh. He runs his finger over the sensitive skin. 

“Oh,” you say, “A, uh…bite, I think.” You rub at your temple, trying to gather the foggy drunken memories from the night before. “Yea, definitely a bite.”

His eyes meet yours, anger swirling in mossy-green irises. “Some other guy bit you?”

“Once or twice.”

“Twice?” he snaps, eyebrows shooting up his forehead. “Some other guy bit you twice. Where’s the other one?”

You chuckle when he starts to scan over all visually accessible pieces of your body for similar bruises. “I don’t know, somewhere. I didn’t really keep track, Jake.”

His stare clashes with yours. “So there could be more?”

“I–I guess,” you say, unable to process the rapidity of his questions with your brain still in its aroused haze. “Can we stop talking about this, please? Are you going to eat me out or what?”

Jake stands and you get the full view of his belt buckle hanging open, likely undone when he’d settled between your thighs so he could stroke himself as he licked you–before he got distracted, that is. 

He runs long fingers through his hair and chuckles dryly, looking like he’s trying to tamp down a panic attack. “No, I can’t focus now.”

“What!”

His eyes are wild as his hand gestures up and down the length of your body. “You’ve got marks on you that I didn’t make! That’s all I'm going to be able to think about.”

“Jake, are you serious?”

Those hands land on his hips; chest rising and falling at an unusual pace, especially for Jake, who’s rarely anything other than calm, cool, and collected, occasionally even in the midst of absolutely wrecking one another.

“Yes!”

Shrugging as best you can in your position, you say, “Ok, I’ll tell him to back off with the biting. No big deal.”

“Yea, tell him to keep his biters to himself,” he grumbles, “and then he needs to move a hundred miles away.”

At this point, you’re well aware that your dripping pussy is unlikely to be satisfied, so you sit up and let your skirt fall to bunch at the tops of your thighs. “You sound like such a child.”

He releases a scoff and, arm fully extended, points a finger at the door of your bedroom as if the other man is just outside, hanging out in your living room and making himself at home in Jake’s territory. “He’s the one with the biting habit of an annoying toddler!”

“You’ve bitten me too.”

“That is completely different!”

“Because it was you?”

“Exactly!”

You nod and wait for him to take a few breaths to allow for his voice to drop to its usual octave. When he looks calm enough, with a snort you ask, “Should I just get a tattoo below my belly button that says ‘No biting unless you’re Jake Seresin?’.”

“More like ‘No fucking unless you’re Jake Seresin’,” he mumbles under his breath, but you hear it so clearly he might as well have whispered it in your ear. 

“Excuse me?”

By the look on his face, he knows he’s been caught. His brow is knitted, lips folded in though it’s way too late to keep his mouth shut. He groans, spits out a curse, shifts his weight to his other foot. “I’m not seeing other women,” he says, calmly for the first time in the night. “I don’t want to, because I only want you, and I want you to only want me.”

If not for the faint pink shade making its way over his cheeks, you’d have thought yourself crazy for hearing those words. Jake Seresin and relationships did not go hand-in-hand as far as you knew. But then again, the two of you started sleeping together about three hours after Phoenix introduced you at the Hard Deck, and relationships never came up. She had joked that he was trouble, but he never actually told you himself that he wasn’t willing to sign his name in the Big Book of Monogamous Men. And you’d be kidding yourself to say you haven’t thought of it. You have a chemistry with him you’ve never known with another man, and when you go out together you always have fun. And you do like him. Plain and simple. 

You smirk, but he still looks nervous. “Well, you could’ve just said so.”

“What?”

Rising to your knees, you inch towards him until you’re at the edge of the mattress, your chest flush against his. He’s still frozen as a statue when you wrap your arms around his neck. “Jake, I don’t feel anything for him.” You press a kiss to the line of his jaw, and then another before you pull back. “It’s not like how it is with you. So if you want me, I’m yours.”

His eyes go wide and his lips part from his slackening jaw, then he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing harshly in his throat. “Really? Just like that?”

“I know. Crazy, huh?”

He finally loosens his stiff limbs. His hands fall to their natural place on your waist, fingers pressing into your skin and tugging you impossibly closer. “Fucking insane,” he whispers as he leans in, “But I’m not about to argue with my girl,” and his lips meet yours. 

------

tags (if you’re crossed out, it didn’t work for some reason. If I spelled it wrong, let me know) @marvel-ousnesss @thespeeder @nobody7102 @marrianena @fangirlingoverfangirls @blue-aconite @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @dempy @chaoticassidy @alana4610 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @dracosluvbot @smoothdogsgirl @smit41 @wkndwlff @rileyloves5 @gigisimsonmars @hangmanbrainrot @withakindheartx @izzzzy-the-amazing @topguncultleader

[moonlit-han]

super secret project! do not enter!!

pairing: lee felix x gender-neutral reader genre/au: fluffiest of fluff, est. relationship word count: 1.1k  warnings: two (2) slightly suggestive comments request: yes (well, mostly) a/n: (oh gods, this has been on the wip list for way too long). hello to the anon from becca’s blog: it’s finally here, the felix wedding scrapbooking fic we’ve all been waiting for! i hope you like it!! ✨

↠ masterlist to reblog |  comments & feedback encouraged! ↞

↠↞

“Lix?” You called, having not heard from your boyfriend for roughly an hour. While it wasn’t unusual for him to go into his own little world in your shared bedroom, whether that be for gaming, chatting with friends overseas, or just reading—a full hour without him coming to find you or texting you, even when both of you were home, was definitely out of the ordinary.

So, you made your way to the bedroom’s closed door and lightly tapped on the wood. “Yeah?” Came the muffled reply.

“You good, baby?”

“Yep!”

“Can I come in?” You asked, opening the door before Felix could answer.

After all, it wasn’t as if either of you had anything to hide. On the rare occasions you did, like when wrapping birthday presents and such, notes to the effect of “Super Secret Project In Progress. Do Not Enter. I Love You!!!!!” were typically taped to the door.

As you entered, Felix looked up with a look on his face you’d only really ever seen on a cat. It was as if you’d caught him just after he’d knocked a glass of water off the counter or had ripped a rug to shreds. Before you could say anything, your boyfriend was shoving the papers strewn over the desk into a pile and stuffing them into a drawer, then standing in front of said desk with a foot on said drawer to stop it from popping open.

You giggled. “Babe, whatcha got there?” 

“Nothing, just something I was working on,” Felix said nonchalantly. As if he could appear anything short of guilty now that he’d so clearly been working on something he did not want you to see.

You sauntered toward him, swinging the overlong sleeves of your—his—hoodie as you went. “You sure about that? Are you sure it’s not something for me?”

“Oh, very sure, honey,” Felix replied, nodding and grinning like a fool.

You hummed, snaking your arms around his waist as you reached him and staring directly into his eyes. “You know, Lix,” you mused, “your ears always turn red and you end up staring into space a little more than usual when you’re lying.” You smirked. “Your ears are red.”

Felix huffed a laugh, returning your embrace. “My ears also turn red whenever I’m particularly excited to see you.”

“Right, that’s not the only thing that happens, baby,” you said, pressing yourself against him and letting your hands slide just that much closer to his ass.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Felix warned, moving away just enough to end up dropping his foot to the floor. Taking advantage of his distraction, you tried to disentangle yourself from your boyfriend’s arms.

“Now let’s see what you were—” you began, only to be pulled away by Felix.

“Nope, secret project, baby,” he insisted, resorting to lightly tickling your sides and kissing your cheek as you squirmed and reached for the drawer. “You are so not finding out what that was.”

“But Lix, I wanna know!” You whined, doing your best impression of his sister’s youngest child. “Please?”

“Nope!” Felix said, now having successfully maneuvered the two of you over to the bed. You quickly found yourself flat on your back on the mattress with Felix over you, still tickling you.

“Please, please, please?” You begged, but to no avail. At this point, you weren’t even sure whether you were begging for Felix to tell you what he’d been doing or to stop tickling you.

“Only if you give me a kiss,” he relented, pausing for a moment.

You stared up at your boyfriend, his eyes sparkling and cheeks ever so slightly flushed—and ears tinged a cherry red—and gave in.

It wasn’t such a hardship, after all.

Craning your neck, you pressed your lips to his in a brief kiss. “Okay, you’ve got your kiss. Can I see what you were doing now?” You said confidently.

“That was barely a kiss,” Felix said sorrowfully. “I’m so unloved. The love of my life won’t even kiss me properly anymore.” He pouted.

And who were you to deny him?

Ten minutes later, you were both quite out of breath and more than a little excitable. “So, Lixie, my baby, my darling,” you panted. “Are you going to tell me what you were working on now that you’ve gotten a little more than just a kiss?”

Felix sighed, burying his face in your neck. “Okay, but it’s a little embarrassing.”

You stroked his hair. “I’m sure whatever it you’ve done is lovely.”

Felix slid backward off the bed, grasping your hands as he went so that you sat up as he stood. “Here, um… Just close your eyes for a moment. Please?”

You nodded, even going so far as to cover your eyes with your fingers.

After some rustling and little comments along the lines of “Okay, that goes there and that goes… Shit. Not there,” from your boyfriend, you felt warm hands cup your cheeks and soft lips press to yours.

“Come see,” Felix murmured against your mouth.

What lay before you on the desk took your breath away. “Is that…” you began, leaning forward to peer at the little photos and dried flowers on the pages of what was unmistakably a scrapbook.

“It’s us,” Felix said, hand securely around your waist.

“Is this a wedding scrapbook, Lix?” You asked, voice quiet with admiration and more love than you knew what to do with.

“Maybe…”

“I love it, baby,” you said, turning to kiss Felix’s cheek. “Can you show me all of it?”

So, he did. There were pictures of the two of you, more dried flowers—“This is what I’d have in my boutonniere!”—pictures of your friends, drawings of table settings, pictures of suits and dresses and everything in between… In short, Felix had compiled all his dreams and wishes for a wedding into one book.

“Wait,” you said after looking through the entire scrapbook. “Does this mean… Are you… Are we?”

“If you’re asking if I’d like to marry you, Y/N, then yes. Yes, I would, if you’ll have me,” Felix said sincerely. “It would be the greatest honor of my life if I could marry you.”

You threw your arms around Felix’s neck, clinging tightly to him as your murmured—and squealed—“Yes! Yes!” He spun you around, the two of you laughing and giddy, before finally stopping to kiss you soundly again.

“I love you, Felix,” you said, gazing at the man who would someday be your husband. The thought alone gave you such a thrill.

“I love you, too. More than you know.”

“Care to show me?” You asked mischievously.

“Later, later,” Felix promised. “But first I have a very serious question.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Which one of us will wear the garter belt?”

You burst out laughing, drawing him back down onto the bed again. The rest of the evening passed languidly, the two of you moving from the bed to the bath and finally to the kitchen, content and more in love than either of you thought possible.

Perhaps, some Super Secret Projects were worth the wait…

[marrybu]

NaLu analysis 💖

In recent days, I have been actively reviewing all the significant moments with NALU (Lucy is abducted by ghosts; the keys of the starry sky (where Lucy was locked in a watch); Edolas; the battle with Minora and Fleur, etc.).

I noticed that from the very beginning and up to this (at the bottom of the photo) moment on this page, the attitude Natsu's attitude towards Lucy has changed a lot. He initially panicked, as for a friend, if something happened to her, it was most visible in the "Keys of the Starry Sky" (yes, it seems to be a filler, but this arch was later mentioned in others, if I am not confused, then it cannot be called a full-fledged filler without a plot). At the Big Magic Games, his condition regarding Lucy became more clearly visible, he was really angry for beating.

In this chapter (302) so in general, his condition is extremely unstable and very sharp, which, in turn, is very strange and unusual, as for Natsu. He was not so worried about anyone, even for Erza, Lisanna was mentioned only in the arch of Edolas.

Then I think the strongest turning point was the death of Lucy from the future, then he specifically went crazy like that. I think if Liss or Erza from the future had died, there would not have been such a violent reaction. When Liss died, maybe mangaka didn't show us everything, but, as for me, Natsu reacted more calmly, somehow, I can't find the right word. And when Lucy died, he got really, really angry.

In other words, his attitude towards Lucy developed gradually and not very quickly, but personally I see that his state of tangent to Lucy began to change a lot in the arch with the BVI and the Eclipse.

Natsu is always sad when Lucy feels bad. For example, in the chapter about the death of Lucy's father. Natsu was very worried about her and tried his best to support her. When Simon died, Natsu didn't really support Erza in this regard. Well, again, maybe they didn't show us everything.

And if you remember the chapter and the series where Kana was guessing at Lucy's fate, and when Natsu offered to go on a mission, and Lucy refused because of the meeting, then he was very upset.

And most importantly, Natsu often spends the night at Lucy's)

If you remember, Natsu never said something in front of Lucy in the style of "you made Lucy cry; you upset Lucy", he always said this to enemies when Lucy herself was not around. I don't know, maybe I invented it here, but as for me, it's also a bell.

Further in the Tartaros arch, when Liss and Natsu were stuffed into the same cage and she was dying from the heat, he didn't worry so much, just wanted to help and that was it. However, after a year of training and loss, when they wanted to chop Lucy with an axe, Natsu almost tore off his arm to get out.

I think the most memorable moment was when Natsu thought that Lucy had died and thus the END woke up. Although Natsu had previously told Lucy herself not to worry about him, since he decided to be a human being.

At the of 100 years quest, Lucy's feelings for Natsu are already practically confirmed, although there is nothing to be surprised about. In Edolas, where there were married Nalu and his daughter, our Natsu perceived his daughter as his own, and Lucy and Edo-Lucy discussed their relationship, and so to speak.. Our Lucy has practically confirmed her feelings for Natsu. Regarding this asshole, there was a clear hint of either jealousy or possessiveness, where Natsu set some people on fire and accidentally burned Lucy's clothes from the cats (in order to distract those guys from Lucy, these are Wendy's words).

[defectivehero]

just a quick note: hello folks. I'm back, for now, at least. [didn’t last long, right? lol. the return nobody asked for!!] i republished some of my older posts, cause i realized that i really do miss writing! even just sitting down and scrolling through them for a few minutes helped me gain some clarity.  i'll probably continue writing on here. i'm planning to just write whatever, whenever i want. [i'm not going to commit to anything yet.] we shall see how it goes. :0

blah, blah, blah. i'm rambling, sorry. onto the fun stuff!

“Well, Hero, fancy seeing you here.”

The hero glances around the room, looking for their mentor. The one moment they're not there... They pinch the bridge of their nose and manifest the patience needed for the upcoming conversation before turning around to look at the villain. Said villain is wearing a floral shirt and khaki shorts, fitting in seamlessly with the other vacationers scattered around the massive cruise ship. 

“Hi,” the hero manages to respond, fiddling with their shirt collar for a moment in an attempt to distract themselves. They can feel the villain’s gaze burning through their skin, and it only takes a few moments for their enemy to ask the very question they’ve been dreading. 

“Where’s that mentor of yours?” the villain asks airily, crossing their arms over their chest. It’s a strange juxtaposition- their posture is threatening, but their outfit gives off “middle-aged man on a much needed vacation” vibes. The hero grapples with the strangeness of the situation for a bit, not quite sure what to say. Their mentor is, regretfully, nowhere in sight. They’re about to say so when the villain continues to speak. “You two seemed awfully cozy earlier.”

“It’s... just for the mission, nothing more,” the hero admits, not seeing the need for keeping up the pretense any longer. They have a sinking feeling that the villain noticed them from the start. After all, it’s oddly convenient for their enemy- to find them during the few minutes that they’re actually alone. 

“They don’t seem to think so,” the villain murmurs, quietly enough that the hero just barely hears it. The space around them isn’t exactly quiet and, coupled with the villain’s all-around cryptic personality, it takes the hero more than a moment to read between the lines and process what their enemy is saying. When they do, they immediately change the subject.

“Who are you with, then?” the hero asks, trying to divert the villain’s attention elsewhere. Their enemy raises an eyebrow, clearly aware of the effort, but they simply exhale roughly. 

“No one,” the villain shrugs, rolling their eyes. They glance around the space with thinly-veiled annoyance, as if the other passengers’ happiness is a burden for them to perceive. “I am, regrettably, all by my lonesome.” 

“What?” the hero can't help but blurt out. Their thoughts are running a mile a minute, yet they come to a screeching halt at the villain’s statement. “I thought this was a couple’s cruise? That was the whole point of this...”

“Just out of curiosity, who told you that?” the villain asks. The question seems innocent enough, but the darkened expression on their enemy’s face suggests that there is a hidden meaning. The hero thinks back to the meeting with their mentor all those days ago: their strange insistence with the “couple” coverup, their unusual enthusiasm.

“Oh,” the hero remarks dumbly, everything beginning to fall into place. Their mentor had seemed overly eager to play the part of vacationing lovers... It all made a disturbing amount of sense. How did the villain notice before they did? And, more importantly, why tell them? 

“Yes, oh,” the villain mimes, a hint of a smile playing on their lips. The hero wishes, not for the first time, that they had the villain’s luxury: watching from afar as an amused observer. Heroes are never afforded that luxury, however. The hero learned that lesson a long time ago. “I must admit, it’s been rather entertaining to watch that legendary mentor of yours fall at your feet.”

“That’s not...” the hero tries to say, but their voice catches in their throat. It seems even their subconscious has begun to realize the truth. They look around the area, intensely fearful that their mentor may return any moment. By some miracle, they don’t seem to be nearby. 

“I’m just the messenger,” the villain remarks loftily, shoving their hands in their pockets. “You might want to sit down and have a conversation with your, ah, acquaintance. In the meantime, I shall be relaxing over there at the bar, pretending not to listen.” “Seriously?!” the hero hisses, irritated by the villain’s casual disobedience. 

“Well, how does that saying go?” the villain continues. They tap their finger on their chin in contemplation. “Don’t shoot the messenger? That’s it. Anyways, good luck.” The villain winks at them before sauntering over to the bar, sitting down on one of the bar stools. The hero gulps, staring at their back for a moment. 

“Hey, I was looking for you,” a voice they immediately recognize to be their mentor’s asks, wrapping an arm around their waist. The hero can’t help but stiffen, now that they know the depth of their mentor’s feelings, the lengths they went to establish this “mission.” Their mentor seems to notice their hesitance, because they take a step back and frown. “Are you okay?”

“We need to talk,” the hero sighs, leading them towards a more secluded room away from the prying eyes of the villain. Even after closing the door and confirming that, yes, they are indeed alone, the hero can still feel the weight of the villain’s gaze on their skin throughout the conversation with their mentor. 

©2022, @defectivehero All Rights Reserved.

endnotes below the cut :0

author’s note: I really like this villain. I don’t know... there’s just an intriguing mix of observant/wittiness with uncaring/easygoing-ness [yes, I know that’s not a word, shut up.] 

I had no idea a “couple’s cruise” was even a thing until I read an ao3 fic with one in it, lol. It’s a strange idea, and I wanted to play with it and the hero/villain dynamic. I wanted to highlight both the high-stakes, dangerous life of the hero/villain world, but also touch on the goofy, lighthearted idea of the couple’s cruise. so... yeah! hope ya enjoyed :)

make sure to drink water and eat if you can! also, take your meds! yuh yuh!! see yall later :)

[glowingbadger]

First “I love you” with Dima, Claude, Ashe, Sylvain, Yuri, and Felix pls? 🥰🥰🥰

Awwww cute cute cute~

FE3H Love Confessions x GN Reader

SFW ~ fluff ~

Dimitri: He's not able to withstand holding in his feelings for very long. The moment he realizes that he's fallen for you (likely needing to be prodded by Ingrid and Sylvain to fully understand it himself), he finds he's completely unable to compose himself around you. He stammers and blushes his way through the most mundane interactions. Finally, it all comes rushing out of him one day. He's been so strange lately that you make a point to visit him in his quarters to privately sort out whatever's going on. But the more you question him, the more he attempts to draw inward, until finally he blurts out, "It's- it's because I am in love with you-" he says it with a look of desperation in his eye, "I'm sorry, I simply cannot bear to keep it from you any longer." Of course, it's so like him to see his own feelings for you as something that would cause you distress- has this foolish man even considered that you could feel every bit as strongly about him? When you tell him as much, he's speechless, and pulls you close with his arms so tight around you that you struggle to breathe.

Claude: He's definitely the type to initiate a bit of a flirtation, perhaps even courting you for some time before busting out the "L word." Claude is open and flippant about signs of affection; he'll unabashedly flatter you about everything- the shine in your eyes, your adorable laugh, dimples, freckles- anything and everything unique about you. Still, he takes so long to make any sort of serious statement of his feelings that you may start to wonder if this whole... thing that you have going on is a mere diversion for him. But Claude knows the moment he realizes he's well and truly fallen for you that he needs to tell you in a way that will make the truth of his intentions clear- no jokes, no cool lines, only the rare and honest truth. To that end, one night he invites you on a stroll around the grounds surrounding the Monastery, eventually leading you to a hill where you can see the sunset to the West- but he turns you to face Eastward beside him, "As soon as we're able, I was hoping... well, that you'd come to Almyra with me," he turns to you and brings one of your hands to his lips, "I love you, Y/N. I want you to see more of where I come from."

Ashe: Ashe knew he was in love with you VERY early on. What caused it to really hit him and take root in his mind though, was a moment when he happened to be re-reading an old knight's tale, and suddenly, the romance between the lead characters feels completely different. Grand gestures and self-sacrifice for the other's sake don't feel nearly as fantastical or exaggerated as they had when he was young. Now, they feel... entirely understandable. He could see himself easily giving any and everything to keep you safe, going to any grandiose lengths to ensure your happiness. But Ashe holds onto this feeling for some time, careful not to ever pressure or overwhelm you- until he eventually finds that same book once more and lends it to you, saying he hopes you like it as much as he did, and to be sure to let him know your thoughts. And once you do read through the tale, you reach the passage where the brave Knight performs a bold soliloquy declaring his love for his fair maiden- but what catches your eye here is a note in Ashe's familiar handwriting: I've struggled to find the words to tell you my feelings for so long, but then I realized that this tale illustrates how dearly I care for you more than anything I could think of. I love you, Y/N, and I swear to protect and cherish you for all of my life.

Sylvain: He doesn't realize his own feelings for quite some time. You'd gotten close to him as friends gradually over time, convincing yourself that you were guarding your heart as carefully as one should around such a notorious flirt. And yet, the mutual attraction and affection grow underneath the surface, despite you both. For a time, he's always by your side, even turning down invitations to tea or dancing in town in favor of spending time with you. Then, he very suddenly starts to grow distant- he spends less and less time with you, and eventually seems to be actively avoiding you in favor of other 'pleasurable company.' You put on a brave face for a little while, but eventually, his cold behavior is too conspicuous to ignore. Surprisingly, you find him alone at the training grounds. The moment he sees you though, he puts on a careful smile and assures you he was just finishing up. As he passes you, you grab onto his sleeve and bluntly ask him why he's acting this way. Naturally, he tries to deflect at first, but things quickly escalate until you've raised you voice, demanding to know what's going on, until he finally faces you and says, "I'm in love with you, okay?? And I'm only going to end up hurting you- so just let me do what's best for you and leave you alone!"

Yuri: Falling for you is something that surprises him more than anything, and causes him to have to rethink a lot about how he'd pictured the rest of his life. The whole of the Abyss seems brighter when you're around, and he comes up with excuses to keep you near time and time again. He's of course every bit as flirty with you as he is with anyone else. In fact, he's careful to make sure that's the case. He won't risk his feelings getting out of hand, or letting slip any information outside of his control. But it becomes harder and harder every day to keep what he feels for you inside, and it's the smallest things that hint at his true feelings- the unusual softness in his voice when he speaks to you, how he goes out of his way to seek out opportunities to touch you. And then, one night he comes back to his quarters quite late from a "meeting"- and the sight of you waiting there for him, clearly worried and relieved to see him back safe- it's too much for his heart to contain. He leans close and places a feather-light kiss to your lips, then murmurs, "I love you, Y/N. I'll always make it home if you're here to welcome me."

Felix: Oh this poor boy. It's going to take something dramatic to get him to confess, and it's likely he doesn't even realize how he feels for you until he hears himself say it. If anything, he's irritated by the way his heart lurches when he sees you, the way his mind strays towards you the moment he fails to keep himself busy. It's an infuriating distraction, and his impulse is to stifle it as much as possible. But then, you're injured or sick one day, and something in him just snaps. He demands to be let into the infirmary to check on you, and he's by your side in an instant. He's so obvious that everyone else clearly knows how he feels for you already, and when it's clear your condition is by no means life threatening, he's left to watch over you alone for a time. Felix wears his concern plainly on his face as he scolds you for not being more careful and not taking care of yourself. That night, as you drift to sleep on your cot, you distantly hear him say, "I won't let anything happen to you ever again. I... I love you... I need you to be okay..."

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: Wei Wuxian has achieved time travel! He's gonna fix so many broken things. Unfortunately, WWX has miscalculated a teensy tiny variable and instead of arriving in his original 15yo body in Lotus Pier, he's crash landed in MXY's tiny 7~8yo body at Mo Manor. But no problem, he can fix this if he can just find his real body. (Meanwhile, Yunmeng Jiang's head disciple is acting the wrong kind of childish, aka, Mo Xuanyu is having the weirdest day of his young life.)

Switcheroo - ao3

Mo Xuanyu thought that this Wei Wuxian person whose body he’d stolen must have been a really interesting person, mostly because he’d been here for three days so far and nobody’d noticed the switch yet.

Possibly it had to do with the fact that Mo Xuanyu still wasn’t exactly sure how he’d stolen the body – he’d just gone to sleep in the shed, same as always, and then he’d woken up in the softest bed he’d ever encountered in his life…no, softer than even his dreams! He’d thought it over and concluded that he must have died from cold out in the shed, turned into a fierce ghost out of resentment, grown powerful (somehow), then stolen some rich young master’s body when they weren’t paying close enough attention and, once he’d possessed the body, promptly lost all his memory of being a ghost.

It seemed like the only logical course of events.

He was very sorry about it, though. Wei Wuxian seemed like a nice, if very unusual person.

The first day, Mo Xuanyu had barely even noticed the body-switch, being quite so enamored of the soft bed he was in – he’d refused to get out of bed at all, declaring that he was going to lie in and sleep for a century or more, and the people who’d come to the door to get him didn’t beat him or anything over it, but rather just laughed or rolled their eyes and then left him to it. Luckily, at the time, he’d just assumed he was dead or something and proceeded to ignore everything in favor of napping.

He only acknowledged that he was alive later in the afternoon, when his stomach started growling – it seemed like a very unlikely thing for a dead man’s stomach to do.

Mo Xuanyu had by that point figured out that he wasn’t himself anymore, which was fine since he didn’t much like himself; he’d also figured out, through looking himself over, that he was old now. At least fifteen or sixteen, which was twice the age he last remembered himself being. That was fine, too, though: being older meant that he was stronger and faster and would be better able to handle it when people wanted to beat him or something. Most importantly, though, it meant he was old enough to enter the kitchen on his own!

Mo Xuanyu already knew that he wasn’t allowed to eat at the main table, being only the bastard son of the younger daughter, and the cook back at home was a fierce woman who didn’t allow anyone under the age of ten into her kitchen; as a result, he had to wait for his mother to bring him back some food, and it was always cold and not quite enough. Now, though, since he was older, he figured he might as well try to go to the kitchen and fill his belly that way.

Luckily, while his current body’s house was much bigger than the Mo house, all houses were generally built along the same lines, so it wasn’t hard to find the kitchen. Everyone there laughed when he showed up, even though he’d tried to be very quiet and sneak in and then screwed it up by tripping over his own feet – it seemed like everyone thought he was doing it on purpose to be funny – and then the cooks gave him a meal of his own that was hot and fresh and wonderful.

He'd wolfed it down.

“Honestly, Wei Wuxian, you eat like a hungry ghost, you’d think the Jiang clan starves you,” one of them scolded him, but with a smile, and from that Mo Xuanyu learned that the rich young master was called Wei Wuxian and that he lived with the Jiang clan. The different surnames confused him a little, but he didn’t dare ask any questions about it, so he just stuffed his mouth and pretended that was the reason he couldn’t answer.

No one questioned it.

No one questioned it when he went wandering all around instead of doing whatever chores or duties he’d been assigned, either. Someone had actually seen him hovering by a door and asked him to bring back a pheasant when he returned, so out of lack of better options he’d headed outside to try to go find one.

He had a pretty good time walking around the forest, then remembered what he’d been asked and chased the pheasants for a while, without success . Fortunately, he then got lucky and stumbled over an old snare that had three pheasants caught inside, so he’d picked up the whole box and carted it back home.

“Three,” one of the boys in purple-blue marveled as he saw Mo Xuanyu walking towards the kitchen. “You know, people say that the birds around the Lotus Pier have gotten too smart to be caught easily, but look at our da-shixiong; he makes it look easy!”

From this, Mo Xuanyu could figure out that Wei Wuxian was (apparently!) part of a cultivator clan, apparently located at a place called the Lotus Pier, and that he was the oldest or at least head disciple, to boot. He knew all about cultivator clans from his mother, since apparently his father had been a sect leader, and that meant he knew enough to call the other boy ‘shidi’ as he passed, making the other boy beam happily.

It also meant that when he chanced a guess and called the young woman in a pretty pink dress who waved at him ‘shijie’, she smiled and nodded, which meant to him that he’d done the right thing.

“I heard you slept even more of the morning away than usual,” she told him, but didn’t seem too upset about it. “I bet that means you’ll be skipping dinner and staying up all night, hmm?”

Mo Xuanyu had no intention of skipping dinner if it was anything like what the kitchens had given him earlier, actually, but while he was still trying to figure out a way to say that, she said, leaning in close to whisper, “It’s probably a good idea, anyway – Mother and Father are fighting again. Just go to the kitchens to grab something…I promise I’ll make it up to you with some soup tomorrow, pork ribs and lotus roots, your favorite. All right?”

“Shijie, you’re the best,” Mo Xuanyu said effusively, willing to die for her at once, and she laughed and tousled his hair.

“I am,” she said, looking happy. “And if my little A-Xian stays good and obedient, I may even feed him.”

She did, too, the next day when he finally tore himself out of the beautiful wonderful soft bed and went to go find her. She’d made him soup, just as he’d promised, and laughed and laughed for some reason: apparently, she interpreted him being quiet and not talking too much as his efforts to be ‘good and obedient’, which was apparently so out of the ordinary as to be a deliberate joke.

From this, Mo Xuanyu concluded that the young master he’d possessed, Wei Wuxian, was a jackass.

Well, perhaps that was a bit harsh. Arrogant and self-centered, talented and brave and probably brilliant, definitely charming and maybe even kind, but also spoiled and inclined to step on other people to get where he wanted to go, if Mo Xuanyu had to guess – why else would everyone constantly react as if him not being obnoxious was the world’s biggest stunt?

No one seemed to expect anything of him at all: he didn’t do any chores, and no one batted an eyelid; he didn’t go where he was told, and everyone just sighed…at one point the sect leader himself came and patted him on the head, scolding him in a joking tone that he hadn’t seen him leading any of the training the way he was supposed to – but when Mo Xuanyu quailed, he’d burst out laughing, telling ‘Wei Wuxian’ to stop pretending to be a scared little rabbit, that it was fine if he’d gotten distracted by some clever new invention or whatever, that someone else would handle it, that he should take as long as he needed.

Mo Xuanyu had pasted a great big smile on his face through force of effort and agreed cheerfully.

The sect leader had accepted it.

Probably a jackass, but clearly a beloved one, Mo Xuanyu thought to himself as he packed up clothing and a few small treasures that no one would miss, a little wistful. The scare of the whole encounter had put things in perspective – he wasn’t going to be able to keep up this sort of façade for long. In fact, he was shocked he’d managed it so long already; surely, no matter how many pranks this Wei Wuxian played, no matter how childishly he behaved, surely someone should’ve noticed that he was actually an eight-year-old masquerading as a sixteen-year-old?

Mo Xuanyu couldn’t decide whether it was sad that no one paid too much attention or something that this Wei Wuxian fellow had brought down on his own head by being so consistently annoying.

Either way, there was nothing for it – he was going to have to leave.

Now that part was really sad: he’d never in his life had such good food, or such a soft bed, or even so many people that just seemed plain old happy to see him as since he’d arrived in this place. But he wasn’t the one all those things were for; he was just a sad ghost possessing a person, and if he stayed, the cultivators would eventually figure out something was wrong and exorcise him.

Probably violently.

Mo Xuanyu probably deserved it, too, but despite that he wasn’t willing.

So he packed up what he could and headed out.

He got all the way to the gate before a new purple-clad disciple – about his age, if he had to guess, and holding a pack like he’d just come back from a trip, with a scowl on his face – called out for Wei Wuxian.

Mo Xuanyu waved a little, hoping that that would be enough.

For the first time, it wasn’t.

The boy’s face settled into an even deeper scowl.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” he demanded. “Wei Wuxian! You’re acting all weird – hey! Where are you going?”

Mo Xuanyu was running away, obviously. He wasn’t about to get tied up and exorcised, no thank you.

He didn’t think he’d make it, but it was still worth trying.

Sure enough, the purple-clad boy who was probably called Jiang Cheng, based on what everyone was calling out as they ran by, got tired of running and jumped on his sword, and there was no way Mo Xuanyu would be able to outrun a sword, not even if he tried as fast as he –

Someone picked him up.

It wasn’t Jiang Cheng.

Mo Xuanyu turned his head and stared.

It must be some sort of yao, he thought. Humans were definitely not that pretty.

“Lan Wangji!” Jiang Cheng howled. “What are you even doing in the Lotus Pier?! Put my shixiong down!”

The rescuer, Lan Wangji, frowned a little at Mo Xuanyu.

Mo Xuanyu didn’t know exactly what expression he ought to be making in return, and was a bit too dazed to even dare to guess. He’d just noticed that they were flying – flying! on a sword! – and he was clutching onto this Lan Wangji’s shoulders for dear life.

“You are not Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said. His voice sounded very definitive.

“Uh,” Mo Xuanyu said. “Sorry? Please don’t drop me.”

“I will not. What is your name?”

“Mo Xuanyu,” Mo Xuanyu admitted, and Lan Wangji’s eyes widened as if that meant something to him – except it couldn’t, of course, because Mo Xuanyu was sure he’d never met anyone even remotely like this Lan Wangji fellow in his life. “I don’t remember taking his body. I’m sorry. Can you not exorcise me? I don’t want to die.”

Lan Wangji was silent for a long moment.

He was still flying very fast, and Jiang Cheng was still following, shouting out curses and demands that he stop, not that Lan Wangji was listening.

“There will be no exorcism,” he finally said, and Mo Xuanyu exhaled in relief. “We will, however, fix this.”

“…we?”

“Wei Ying and myself.”

Mo Xuanyu nodded. That sounded more likely than anyone relying on his participation.

“Where are we going?” he asked. Jiang Cheng was falling further and further behind.

“Mo Village.”

Mo Xuanyu tensed up at once.

“You will not be left there,” Lan Wangji clarified, and – how did he know that Mo Xuanyu didn’t want to be left there? “But we must collect Wei Ying, who I suspect is currently in your body.”

“In my…I’m still alive?”

Lan Wangji was quiet again, and then said, “Yes. And you will remain so.”

That was reassuring, mostly.

“Okay,” Mo Xuanyu said, and found that he mostly felt relieved. He’d be very happy to have his normal body back again, if possible, especially if he didn’t have to stay in Mo Village…“Wait, if I don’t have to stay there, where will I go? I don’t have anywhere else to go, unless my father comes back for me. He's a sect leader –”

“He will not, and even if he did, you should not go with him. Once Wei Ying returns to his body, you will be able to stay at the Lotus Pier. If you do not wish to stay there, I will bring you back to the Cloud Recesses – that is my home – instead.”

“Oh,” Mo Xuanyu said, feeling bewildered. That was an awfully nice offer, even if Lan Wangji was feeling guilty about Wei Wuxian stealing his body by accident – which seemed like what had happened here rather than Mo Xuanyu being the one who did the stealing. Maybe he should go with Lan Wangji instead, he seemed much more responsible than Wei Wuxian was, rushing over to rescue him and explain things instead of throwing him into a body and leaving him all alone in a strange place. But on the other hand… “Is the Cloud Recesses…I mean…no offense, but…does it have…”

“Yes?”

“Does it have soft beds, too? And – and hot food?”

Mo Xuanyu didn’t need much, not really. He looked eagerly at Lan Wangji, who had an odd expression on his face briefly before wiping it back to neutral and nodding in confirmation.

“Okay,” Mo Xuanyu said, and curled up in Lan Wangji’s arms. “Then I’ll stay with you. You can take care of me.”

“I will,” Lan Wangji said, sounding strangely serious. “In return for the gift you last gave me – I will.”