#but the cards sure wanted it to go that way

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🍓˚ she see money all around me, i look like i'm the man

includes: itoshi sae x fem! reader. 0.8k wc. fluff.

a/n: provider sae, we all cheered !! inspired by that one tiktok trend lol

not much grabs itoshi sae's attention, so you have to get creative.

"sae, i can't help pay rent this month." even though he doesn't glance away from the computer screen, the twitch on his face is obvious. the furrowed brows, his fingers coming to a halt on the keyboard, the imaginary question mark brewing over his head—all of it subtle but still priceless.

to be fair, he doesn't even recall being this confused when his parents agreed to send him abroad at the ripe age of thirteen—that too, all by himself!

for someone as strict as itoshi sae, he should receive an award for how quickly he paused his work to simply process whatever the fuck just came out of your mouth. "you can't, what?" he finally says, still keeping his gaze focused on the screen.

this is harder than you thought. not the pranking part; the holding in your laughter part. you somehow manage to keep it in for the sake of the bit.

"yeah, i just don't have the money to help you pay our rent this month," you continue, further emphasizing your dilemma (knowing damn well it doesn’t exist) awaiting his reaction.

but of course, your prank backfires spectacularly. the dramatic reaction you were hoping for? nowhere to be found. instead, he just crosses his arms and finally turns his chair to stare at you like you're the ridiculous one in this scenario. sae leans back in his chair, letting linger another one of those infuriatingly calm looks that make you want to simultaneously throw something at him and admire how annoyingly composed he is. "i know?" he claimed, neutrally, with a quirk of his brow like...duhh?

he continued, not even trying to be offensive, just merely stating the facts he has gathered living with you over the years. "when have you ever paid rent?"

…why would you?

he’s suddenly wondering if, overnight, you forgot you’re itoshi sae’s girl. hell, he doesn’t even let you pay for something as little as webtoon coins—hence why he made sure his card info was saved on your phone. rent was too far of a stretch to claim, even as a joke, and you know this too.

with how adamant sae is, the world could collapse before he let you contribute a single penny.

but damn, did that make it make it hard for you to continue this act.

you open your mouth to say something, anything, to salvage the prank, but your brain is running on a blank slate. "i mean," you clear your throat, trying to recover. "it’s about the…principle? you know, of financial responsibility and, um—" sae tilts his head, looking wholly unimpressed. "do you even know how much rent is?" your mouth opens. closes. he waits. you scramble. "well, yeah, of course, i—" "how much?" he asks, deadpan. your lips part, but the number? nowhere to be found. you had not, at any point in your life, thought to ask. sae quirks a brow, clearly entertained by your pathetic attempt to keep going. he rests his chin in his palm, watching you struggle with the kind of calm that makes it painfully obvious he’s enjoying this. "you were saying?" he prompts, his voice laced with amusement. you huff, cheeks growing warm. "forget it. you ruined it." but before you can even sulk properly, sae reaches forward and hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you in with zero effort. a yelp escapes you as he shifts you into his lap, securing you there with both arms now locked around you. your heart does this stupid little thing where it stumbles over itself because you can feel the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and—oh god—the way his lips are ridiculously close to your ear. "did i? or did you just get caught?" he murmurs, voice low and entirely too smug. "you—!" your hands instinctively grab onto his shoulders, trying to put some space between you two, but he doesn't let you. if anything, he picks you up to place you fully against his chest. "go on, finish your little act," he challenges, lips curling into a smirk. you glare at him, ignoring the rapid pounding of your heart. "i hate you." "yeah?" his voice is a quiet hum, teasing, daring you to keep going. "i guess that’s what i get for absolutely spoiling the shit out of my girlfriend." you pout, trying to look annoyed, but your resistance fades as you sink into his arms.

instead of staying smug, sae softens his grip just a little, his tone becoming more serious. "i take care of what’s mine, so don’t bother pulling tricks on me before you empty my bank account."

"do you understand?" he continues, his voice low and steady as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. the softness of the gesture contrasts with the firmness of his words, leaving you to wonder how he always manages to make you this flustered every time. all you can do is just nod, giving in to the fact that your boyfriend is a rich snob who always gets his way—one you’re completely obsessed with, no less. seriously, what are you gonna do with him? 🤍

[ovrgrwnivy]

CLASSIFIED ; spencer reid

synopsis ; a sleepy morning turns into spencer falling over himself to get to work on time, forgetting his badge behind him.

includes ; spencer reid x fem!reader, kissing, getting interrupted by the bau, secret relationship

sunlight flittered through your blinds, heat radiated off your boyfriend who laid beside you, his arm draped over you as he slept peacefully. you card your fingers through his hair, unintentionally stirring him from his sleep.

“oh, i’m sorry baby” you apologise, voice soft in an attempt to keep him from waking up any further “go back to sleep.”

it was a rare day off for spencer, by your second date he’d told you he was in the bau, by your fifth you had gotten used to work tearing him away. but despite the annoyance, you had gotten used to it. you understood his job was important, you understood that evil wouldn’t take a break just so you could keep your boyfriend all to yourself.

when you asked him how personal time worked, he admitted to you that his team didn’t know he had a girlfriend. it stung a little, but when he explained that his job would be putting you at risk it softened the blow.

you’d heard the horror stories, how his boss’s wife was killed just so the unsub could get to him, about another girl who had been shot simply for being an agent.

it sucked, but you understood why, at least for now, spencer didn’t want to broadcast you all over the office.

“don’t wanna,” spencer mumbled, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he blinked his eyes open “don’t wanna waste my one day off.”

you couldn’t help the small smile that appeared when he said that, days off may be hard to come by but spencer made sure you were the sole focus for every second of them.

he propped himself up on his elbow, his other hand tightening its grip on your waist to pull you closer “c’mere, pretty”

his sleepy voice makes the words sound even better as you lazily wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers toying with the hair at the back of his head.

he presses a lazy kiss to your lips, which quickly spirals into something deeper. his hands grip at your waist, desperate, like he was afraid that if he loosened his grip you’d disappear.

trails of nips and kisses are dragged along your neck as he moves to hover over you, your breathing is shallow, fingers tightening in his hair as his hand slides over the surface of your stomach, fingers tracing along the hem of your underwear.

“fuck,” spencer mumbles, long fingers slipping under the fabric agonisingly slowly “you look so pretty, baby, so pretty under me.”

you let your eyes fall closed, his mouth still attached to your neck as his fingers ghosted across your skin.

until his phone rings, eliciting a frustrated groan from you both. you watch as he reluctantly reaches for it to see who’s calling. you don’t need to ask, his irate expression tells you it’s work.

“yeah?” his tone is blunt, uncharacteristically so but you can’t exactly blame him “what? no, i’m not supposed to be — right. fine.”

he doesn’t need to explain what’s going on, you already know by the way he jumps out of bed and hurriedly starts getting ready to head into work.

it’s immature, you know, but you can’t help but cross your arms in annoyance as you watch him bolt back and forth around the room.

“sorry, baby.” spencer sighs, easily reading the mixture of frustration and disappointment in your expression “i’ll make it up to you, promise.”

you hum in agreement as he presses a kiss to your forehead, promising to call you when he could before disappearing out of the room, and in turn, your apartment. you stay in bed a little longer, feeling sorry for yourself and worrying about your boyfriend at the same time.

the floor is a mess, both yours and spencer’s clothes strewn around as well as decorative pillows and comforters. as you begin picking clothes up from the floor, your eyes fall on a small, rectangular piece of leather hidden under a pair of socks.

spencer’s badge.

you gnaw on your bottom lip, conflicted on what to do. by now spencer would already be at the office, calling him to come back would cut important time from his schedule. but without it he’d be in trouble.

you needed to bring it to him without airing his personal business to the entire building, which is how you ended up signing in as a visitor who was here to meet with agent derek morgan.

the only name you heard from spencer that you could remember confidently.

a serious looking woman showed you the way to the bau office, your fingers nervously drumming on the leather cover of the badge as you headed up the elevator.

all hope was lost once you stepped out, two glass doors showcasing the expanse of the office filled with people shoulder deep in whatever they were working on.

you look around the hallway like a deer in headlights, unsure if you could just walk in or if you could just give the badge to someone else to pass on to spencer.

“you okay!?” a cheerful blonde approaches you, seemingly from nowhere. arms stacked with files and carrying a coffee cup at the same time.

“uh,” you’d feel guilty adding to her workload “do you need a hand?”

mentally you face palm, cursing yourself for your lack of social skills in the simplest of situations.

“please!” the woman gasps, the ceramic mug wobbling in her hand “hotch is going to kill me if i spill coffee all over his case. i already told him ‘mister hotch sir, it would be easier to go digital’ but nooo.”

you laugh softly, taking the mug from her unstable hand and tugging open the door for her.

surely you could enter with someone who was actually allowed in the office.

“follow me!”

she’s speeding ahead, a woman on a mission, up the steps and into what seems like a conference room. you trail behind apprehensively, not wanting to get either of you into trouble by just swanning in.

“if there’s any dismembered bodies or general badness on the screen i swear to god!” she warns, rounding a corner and disappearing into the room.

you hang back awkwardly, partly because you have no business in there but mostly just in case there was any dismembered people on display.

“you’re all good!” her head pops around the corner and she motions for you to come in, so you do.

there’s barely time to register your surroundings, a circular table with a group of people sitting around it. you spot spencer instantly, you don’t even attempt to guess who everyone else is.

his head is buried in a case file, so your presence is unknown to him. which isn’t a surprise considering you’re not meant to be in the building let alone the office.

“garcia, we talked about this.”

a stern voice comes from a tall, serious looking man. you didn’t need to be a genius to work out he was most definitely spencers boss.

“right.” the woman, garcia, presses her mouth into a thin line as she gently takes the mug from your hands “do you know where you’re meant to be, lovely?”

“oh, uh, here actually.”

as you retrieve the badge from your back pocket, spencers head snaps up at the sound of your voice. his eyes widen slightly and a small smile makes its way onto his face.

“hey, what are you doing here?”

his question catches you off guard, even more so when he gets to his feet and moves around the table towards you.

wordlessly, you hand over his id, the perfectly rehearsed excuse of finding it at a cafe stuck in your throat now that spencer had made it known you weren’t a stranger.

“how did i — thank you.” his smile widens slightly, his hand resting on your waist briefly as he pressed a thankful kiss to your temple “i’ll call you on the plane, okay?”

you knew he wasn’t trying to brush you off, but he was evidently busy and you had no actual reason to still be here.

you nod, face warming up when he gives you another quick kiss before you go, sending a tiny smile and a brief wave towards the rest of the team.

as you gently shut the door behind you, you aren’t quick enough to miss the questions thrown in spencers direction. even laughing softly at garcias exclamation of “spencer has a girlfriend!”

[vmpireslut]

BRAT TAMER! 𝜗𝜚

sum𝜗𝜚 toji despises working. he'd rather be off gambling, losing himself in the thrill and chaos of the games. but then he meets you, his new client's spoiled daughter. it's okay, though... he's a brat tamer.

wc𝜗𝜚 6.6k [oopsie]

warnings𝜗𝜚 SEMI PROOF-READ, older!pervtoji, masterbation, fingering, female + male oral, cum eating, squirting, creaming, choking, spitting, explicit language, toji is kind of mean, reader is annoying, age-gap [reader is 19 toji is 35] just a whole lot of nasty shit, enjoy hornies!

Toji Zenin really hated working. The same boring tasks, the long hours, the wear and tear on his body, and the relentless sun made every day feel like a drag. But there was one thing that made it all a bit more bearable: his client. More specifically, his client’s daughter. Sure, it was a bit taboo to have thoughts about a girl so much younger, but he couldn’t help himself.

Those shorts of yours were always way too tight, hugging your curves like they were made for you. And those shirts? Toji was pretty sure you didn’t even own a bra, especially with how your nipples would poke through the fabric whenever he caught a glimpse of you.

You had no shame, showing off that gorgeous body and cute face at every opportunity. It was like you wanted to be noticed in those revealing outfits, strutting around in swimsuits that left little to the imagination. He’d even seen your pussy lips once as you’d bent down near the pool, he remembers because he’d spent the entirety of his lunch break fisting his raging boner in a hot portable toilet.

Not exactly his finest hour.

You were undeniably a brat, completely indulged by your widowed father who was eager to fulfill every whim of his precious daughter. With wealth, a stunning home, a devoted dad, and your charming looks, it was no surprise that you carried the air of entitlement. Toji, however, found a certain appeal in your spoiled nature; he preferred you as a brat rather than a timid wallflower. From his perspective, brats were easier to tame. Most days, he found himself lost in fantasies of you. Daydreaming about your pretty little cunt warped about his cock.

It frustrated him how deeply you had woven yourself into his life. He couldn’t even get into it with his casual fling anymore unless he pictured you, and man, did that feel amazing.

"Dad!"

Speak of the Devil. The sound of your voice filled the air just as the front gate slammed behind you. Fresh from your weekly shopping spree with friends, you made your entrance. Toji felt a surge of frustration as the sharp click of your heels echoed on the cement. He turned away from his work space, his gaze fixed on you as you sauntered over, your hips swaying and oversized sunglasses perched on your nose.

He couldn't help but observe as you approached your father, a look of irritation etched on your face. Perhaps you had finally hit your credit card limit. With a sulky pout and arms crossed beneath your perky breasts, you pushed them up, and his thoughts spiraled.

Toji wanted nothing more than to rip the tank top off your body, pull your nipples between his fingers and twist them until you were crying.

"My card was declined!"

Toji struggled to suppress a laugh, biting down on the inside of his cheek. What a foolish little brat. Your father shot you a disapproving glance, and you let out an exasperated huff, stomping your foot like the spoiled child you were.

"I was at the mall trying to buy a cute dress, and the card didn't go through! So, I called the bank and they said it was declined!"

Your father sighed, and Toji could have sworn he saw the old man roll his eyes. He must have been fed up with having to coddle an adult woman.

"Listen, sweetheart. I already mentioned that I won't be giving you another allowance until next week. Perhaps it's time you learned how to manage your money, or maybe I should restrict your card usage. Clearly, this isn't working out." You gasped in response, and Toji couldn't help but feel a bit taken aback.

Maybe your dad wasn't as soft as he seemed. He felt a twinge of sympathy for him, having to handle a spoiled daughter like you.

“That's so unfair!" You cried, turning away from your dad, arms flailing and he swore he saw you kick a rock like a toddler having a tantrum. "I hate this fucking place! It's so hot and the bugs are everywhere. I can't stand it! Shopping is the only thing that keeps me sane." You yelled.

He noticed your dad wince, and Toji could already picture the headache brewing in the man's mind. "Mind your language," he said calmly, but you just scoffed.

"Or what?"

Toji could predict how this would unfold. Your dad would let out a resigned sigh and give in, while you'd strut away with a triumphant grin.

"Go to your room; you're done for the day. Sit there and think about your behavior. You're clearly too worked up," he said, and you stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious?" you yelled, and he shook his head.

"I mean it. You're too agitated, and I don't want you to say or do something you'll regret later. Please, just go to your room," he insisted, and Toji had to suppress a laugh. It was clear you were at a loss for how to respond. You stomped your feet again and huffed in frustration.

"Fine."

As you marched toward your room, the sound of your heels echoed sharply, culminating in a loud slam of the door. Your father exhaled deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose while muttering softly to himself. "Kids..." he murmured, glancing at Toji with a sympathetic expression.

"I apologize for that. She's dealing with a lot at the moment." Toji responded with a reassuring shake of his head. "It's all good," he said, prompting a smile from your father.

“Thank you Toji. You’re a great guy, and you’ve done an amazing job with building the shed so far.”

“Thanks, sir,” he responded. Your dad turned his gaze toward your bedroom window, and Toji’s eyes followed suit. You were anxiously pacing, phone pressed to your ear, a scowl etched on your face. Your father frowned, and Toji cleared his throat, feeling the tension in the air.

Toji had never really had a conversation with you, and the only time he did, you had unleashed a torrent of curses at him. It was his first day on the job, and you had come down wearing nothing but a silk pink robe, clearly annoyed at being stirred from your sleep so early in the morning.

He stood there, taking in the sight of you descending the steps, the silk draping around your figure. He could see the gentle curves of your body, the outline of your bare breasts, the shape of your hips, and the smoothness of your legs.

"Do you realize how ridiculously early it is? It's seven, you dick!" You shot, glaring at Toji with a fiery intensity. He raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by your attitude. It was obvious you were still in the process of waking up, not fully aware of who was standing there.

"Miss, I recommend you mind your language," he replied, and he could have sworn he noticed a shiver run through you. Your lovely lips parted slightly, a soft gasp escaping, and Toji had to fight the urge to grin. So, you enjoyed being spoken to like that. He cleared his throat and stepped closer, looking down at you with a playful smirk.

He didn’t spare you a second glance, not even flinching when the front door slammed shut behind you. From that moment on, you shot him daggers every time he crossed your path, throwing out sarcastic remarks whenever your father was out of earshot. Your behavior only escalated, and Toji was certain your dad was on the verge of exploding. But Toji believed he could change you; he was confident he could take that defiant attitude and transform it. He was certain of it. He would fuck that ego right out of you and mold it into a perfect little slut, ready and willing to please him.

"I still have a few tasks to finish up around the house. Thanks again, Toji," your father remarked, and Toji simply nodded.

"Absolutely."

The two shared a smile and the older man went back inside, leaving Toji to his thoughts. His mind wandered to all the possibilities and ways he could take you apart. He could see it now, his large hand holding yours down, forcing you to stay still as he pounded into your tight cunt. His other hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing tight as he made you cum, the walls of your pussy clenching around him. He'd pull out and force his cock down your throat, forcing you to choke on him. He'd fill you with his seed, spilling everything down your throat, watching as you swallowed his hot cum, a blissful look on your face.

God, the thoughts were intoxicating.

He would break you, mold you, bend you, and make you his own personal toy. You were going to be his.

He would make sure of it.

Your father had kept his promise; he had cut off your credit card and confined you to the house. It felt like a never-ending limbo. Most of your days were spent buried in a cheesy romance novel by the pool or dozing off. For the past few weeks, your dad had been working late, leaving you to dine solo and binge-watch reruns of old TV shows. It was downright dismal.

He even spent his evenings holed up in his office, tackling whatever tasks awaited him. The atmosphere was heavy with loneliness. You could sense his disappointment in your behavior, but who could really blame you? This house was a snooze fest. While your friends were off enjoying their summer adventures, you were stuck here.

They couldn’t even swing by to visit because of their packed schedules. Still, they called regularly, sharing tales of their escapades and new crushes. You appreciated their efforts to keep you in the loop, but those conversations only filled the emptiness for so long.

Today, you decided to lounge by the pool, soaking up the sun on a comfy chair. You donned your favorite bikini, a stylish white and gold set, the straps loosely tied, barely holding everything in place. The high-waisted bottoms accentuated your curves perfectly. Beside you, a refreshing glass of lemonade and a colorful mix of fruits—cherries, pineapples, and more—sat waiting. Your book lay on your stomach, eager for your attention once more.

The pool was stunning, and it had always been one of your favorite places to escape to. The water sparkled like crystal, the waterfall cascaded beautifully, and the palm trees swayed gently above. It was the sole reason you tolerated living in such a sweltering climate. However, there was one major drawback: the man who is building the shed. Toji, you learned was his name.

You couldn't stand him. He was insufferably rude and full of himself. His looks only made matters worse. You despised how incredibly handsome he was. You had never encountered a man so striking before. The definition of his arms, the chiseled jawline, and the width of his shoulders were infuriating.

His dark eyes, sun-kissed skin, and flowing dark hair only added to your irritation. It was maddening how flawless he appeared. Just the thought of him made your blood boil. He was so self-satisfied and arrogant, and the way he acted like he was superior to you drove you up the wall.

“Whatcha reading?”

You startled at the sound of his voice, glancing over to find Toji casually leaning against the patio door, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. His white button-up shirt was rolled up, showcasing his well-defined arms. A warm flush crept across your cheeks. Why the fuck was he so handsome?

"What do you want?" you shot back, setting your book aside.

"I just wanted to see if you needed anything," he said, striding over to the chair beside you and pulling it closer. "Your dad mentioned he’d be working late and I thought I could order dinner for you," he added, a hint of mischief in his tone, causing your brows to knit together in confusion.

"Why the hell would you order dinner for me? I can do it myself.”

"Because I'm a nice guy, and it would suck for a pretty girl like you to have to fend for herself." He responded, a sly smile on his lips and you couldn't help the small shiver that went down your spine. You shook the thoughts from your head and rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, right. You just want to get in my pants. Don't try to act like a good guy, I know exactly who you are. My dad's a great guy, he'd never hire a creep like you."

"Is that what you think?"

You didn't answer, a scowl forming on your face.

"Well, if I'm a creep, then what does that make you?"

"What?"

"Come on, don't act dumb. I know you get off on teasing me."

"You're a fucking pervert.”

"Maybe."

His grin was wolfish, and he looked predatory, leaning forward and staring you down. "Tell me, have you been a good girl lately? Or have you been naughty?"

"I-"

"You've been very bratty lately. I know your dad's getting sick of it."

You swallowed thickly, a blush coating your cheeks. How could he read you so well?

"But, don't worry. I can fix you."

"Fix me? What are you talking about?"

"You're spoiled. And I'll change that."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I know you want it. I can tell."

He leaned back, his arm resting on the back of the chair.

"And, if you're good, I'll reward you."

"Reward me?"

He grinned and nodded, leaning forward and pressing his lips against your ear.

"Yes. If you're a good girl, I'll fuck you like the slut you are."

He pulled back, the grin never leaving his face.

"Think about it, princess."

He winked, standing up and turning away, a chuckle leaving him.

You were speechless, your heart racing, and a blush coloring your cheeks. The heat pooled between your legs and you shifted. What the fuck was wrong with him? Did he really think you would let him fuck you?

Who were you kidding, you were already soaked.

"Dick..." You muttered, shaking your head.

That night, you couldn't get him out of your head. The way his words had sent shivers down your spine, the way his gaze had been filled with lust. It was so...wrong, but it was a wrong you wanted. You didn't care, and the idea of getting caught only added to the thrill. You'd already spent an hour in the shower, the warm water and the detachable shower head bringing you to orgasm after orgasm. You could still hear his voice, the raspy tone, the way his words dripped with sex and lust. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew he had you right where he wanted. You could hear his chuckle echoing in your head, his grin filling your mind.

It was sad, really.

How could a man you didn't even like have this effect on you?

It was ridiculous.

You couldn't believe you were letting him get into your mind.

He was a fucking creep.

A handsome, sexy, confident creep.

A sudden knock at the door jolted you from your reverie, causing you to startle and sit up abruptly. You quickly snatched a towel, wrapping its comforting softness around you before swinging the door open. There he stood, the man who had been lingering in your thoughts.

" What the hell are you doing here?!"

"I brought the pizza. I told you I was getting dinner." He replied, a grin on his lips and you scoffed.

"Why did you bring it up here?"

"I was trying to be nice, and besides. I didn't know when your dad was going to be home."

He stepped forward, forcing his way into the room, and setting the box down on the bed.

"You're such a dick." You muttered, crossing your arms.

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"What's wrong with me bringing food to the boss' daughter?"

"Nothing. But, that's not why you're here."

"And, what do you think I'm here for?"

"Don't play dumb, you already told me."

"Oh, is that right?" He chuckled. “Do you think about me when you touch yourself?"

You were taken aback by his sudden question, your eyes widening.

"Whaa—No, I don't."

"Then, why are you so wet?"

“I just got out of the shower wise guy. Get out.”

He grinned and stepped closer, and you took a step back.

"Y’know, the walls are thin. So, it's easy to hear the moans and gasps of a girl when she touches herself. But, hey. What would I know? I'm just a construction guy."

You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment. Had he really heard you masturbate?

"S-shut up. I don't know what you're talking about.” You felt your heart race and the towel slip down slightly. You moved to fix it, and he stepped forward, his hand moving towards your neck.

"Let me take care of that for you."

He gripped the towel, his lips crashing onto yours in a passionate kiss. There was a fierce hunger in him, as he explored your mouth with fervor. His tongue danced inside, teasing the roof of your mouth. Meanwhile, his other hand found its way to your breasts, fingers pinching your nipple with a playful intensity earning a whine from you. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down to your neck, planting soft kisses that turned into gentle bites on your sensitive skin. As he pulled back, a satisfied grin spread across his face as he gazed down at you.

"Get on the bed."

"Wha-what?"

"Get on the bed."

You were surprised by his commanding tone, and you could feel your cunt aching. You walked towards the bed, your knees hitting the edge of the mattress and you fell back. You looked up at him, and he smiled.

"Take off the towel."

You did as he said, pulling the towel away and revealing your naked body. He licked his lips, a hungry expression in his eyes.

"Touch yourself."

Your hands moved to your breasts, cupping the mounds and rolling your nipples between your fingers. You let out a soft gasp, your head falling back. you began to rub your sensitive clit. You were already wet, the thought of being watched had made you dripping. The pleasure that shot through you made your knees weak and your eyes fluttered closed.

You heard his voice again, this time closer to your ear and you shuddered.

"Good girl."

“Oh god..."

"Spread your legs wider."

You whimpered, moving your legs farther apart and you sank a finger inside of you. Your body quivered as you slowly began pumping your hand and the warmth began to build in your belly.

"Yes...that's it."

You cried out softly as you slipped another finger inside of you, pumping them faster and faster. Your body tingled. Toji watched, his cock aching for release in his pants. You looked so slutty spread out for him like this, slickness leaking down your ass. He wanted to shove his dick into your hot, tight pussy, but he restrained himself. You were his to command.

"Faster. Fuck yourself faster."

"Nghh...I-I..."

"Come for me, kitten."

You moaned, your walls clenching around your fingers. You were already sore from your previous orgasms, but you felt another one quickly coming. You moved your hips, trying to get more friction.

"That's right. Ride your hand like a little whore. Cum for me. Now."

"A-Ahh!"

Your hips bucked against your hand and you came, squirting over your fingers and onto the floor. Your chest heaved, your body trembling as you sank down into the matress.

Toji growled lowly, the sight of your glistening pussy and the smell of your sex made him feel dizzy. He pulled his hard cock out of his pants and stroked it quickly, his thumb rubbing over his fat tip. You felt him climb onto the bed and his hand gripped the back of your neck.

"Open your mouth."

You obeyed, gasping as you felt him rub the head of his cock against your tongue. He pumped his hand, thrusting into your mouth and making you gag. Your jaw ached as he fucked your mouth.

"Take my cock...nghh."

Toji groaned, his eyes closed and his face scrunched up. You could feel him twitching on your tongue. You moaned around him, sending a wave of pleasure through him. His hand squeezed the back of your neck tighter.

"Suck harder ughh."

Your eyes rolled back into your head as he forced his entire length down your throat, the tip of his cock touching the back of your tongue. Tears formed in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you struggled to breathe.

"Mmghhh."

You tried to relax your throat, sucking on his cock the best you could. Your hands clenched the sheets.

"That's a good girl."

He grunted, his cock pulsating.

"M-Mmm You take me so well, kitten.”

You were drooling, spit and precum dribbling down your chin. It was disgusting. He pulled back and you took a deep inhale.

"Did I tell you to stop?"

"N-no."

"No, what?"

"No, sir."

"Then get back to work."

"Yes, sir."

He growled and thrust his hips.

"Good, baby."

He groaned, hands finding themselves in your hair.

"Fuck. I'm gonna come soon. You ready for me, baby? Gonna swallow every drop?"

"Yes, please."

"Good, good girl."

His thrusts became faster and more erratic, his breathing shallow.

"Ahh. Fuck, yeah. G’na come."

He hated how fast he was nearing his end, but the way you gobbled him down and squeezed his balls in time with your tongue had him spiraling. Your every movement was calculated, each flick of your tongue and squeeze of your hand driving him closer to the edge. He could feel the tension building within him, a mix of pleasure and desperation that left him breathless. The intensity of your touch, combined with your unwavering eye contact, made it impossible for him to hold back any longer.

“Ughhhh fuckkkkk!” He threw his head back and came, shooting thick ropes of his hot seed down your throat. You swallowed, moaning and milking him for everything he had. You felt him shiver, his muscles tensing as he came down. He looked down at you, his eyes dark and wild.

He grabbed you by the arm, yanking you up to your feet and crushing his mouth to yours. You could feel the heat from his body and you melted against him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His hands were all over you, his lips on your neck. He was heavy and hot, pressing you into the mattress. He kissed his way down your chest and stomach, his fingers brushing the wet folds of your pussy.

"Toji!”

"Mm, you're still so wet."

"F-for youuuu."

"You like being touched like this?"

"Uh huh."

He slipped a finger inside of you, his thumb brushing your clit. You whined, as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, biting it gently. You writhed underneath him, his name a constant prayer. He added another finger, stretching you, finding that special gummy spot. You arched your back, moaning loudly.

A desperate whine leaves your lips when he suddenly pulls away, tucking his cock back into his pants. You look up at him, pouting.

"What? What's wrong?"

"You didn't fuck me."

"That wasn't the plan, princess."

"I hate you. Pervert.”

He chuckles, patting your thigh.

"No, you don't."

He gets up and walks out of the room, leaving you panting and unsatisfied.

"Fucking dick.”

Toji had you completely under his spell. His piercing gaze and self-assured presence made it impossible for you to look away. Each time you attempted to shift your focus elsewhere, your mind would inevitably circle back to him. The way he moved, the way he spoke—everything about him was magnetic, pulling you in deeper.

He was aware of the effect he had on you. A glimmer of satisfaction danced in his eyes whenever he caught you watching him. It was as if he relished the control he held, knowing you were utterly entranced by his aura. Despite your attempts to fight it, a rush of excitement coursed through you every time he was close.

It became a familiar pattern where Toji would bend you over, his fingers exploring you until you either squirted or cried out his name in ecstasy. Yet, he never crossed that final line, leaving you both frustrated and yearning. Your father noticed your newfound cheerfulness, but you brushed it off with a casual shrug. Eventually, he returned your credit card and lifted your grounding, but your thoughts remained consumed by Toji.

“Oh yeah honey, I invited Toji over for dinner.”

You froze, and looked up from the raw chicken.

"What? Why?"

"I wanted to thank him for helping us out, he’s done a great job. Don’t ya think?”

"Why can't we just send him a gift basket or something?"

"Because that would be rude. Besides, he's a nice guy. He deserves to be treated like a guest."

You sighed and tightened your grip on the meat tenderizer. The truth was, you hadn’t spoken to Toji in days; he seemed to be keeping his distance. The thought of being in the same space with him was daunting, especially after everything that had happened between you two.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your racing heart. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything with your father around, right? You shook off the thought and concentrated on your cooking, but the anxiety swirling in your chest was hard to ignore.

When Toji finally entered the dining room, you were a bundle of nerves. A mix of excitement and dread washed over you as he stepped inside. His mere presence seemed to dominate the room, and you struggled to keep your eyes from lingering on him.

"Hey, thanks for inviting me."

"Of course, Toji. It's the least we could do."

You kept your head down and focused on your food the entire night, ignoring the urge to look at him.

"You okay, pumpkin? You're very quiet tonight."

"I'm fine."

"She's probably just tired." Toji said.

Your eyes grew wide as you locked eyes with him, feeling the intensity of his stare pierce through you, sending your heart into a frenzy. The urge to reach out and slap him was strong, but you knew better than to provoke your father’s suspicion. So, you bit your tongue and focused on your meal instead.

Once dinner was over, your father retreated to his study, Toji having promised to clean up, leaving you two in an awkward silence. The tension in the room was palpable, with both of you at a loss for words. You felt an overwhelming desire to shout at him, to accuse him of being a creep and to have used you. To demand he leave, but the words just wouldn’t come. Instead, you remained there, simmering with frustration.

At last, he shattered the stillness.

"So, how are you liking the new semester?"

"Fine."

"Any problems?"

"No."

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"Listen, I know you're mad at me."

"Mad? I'm fucking furious. What the fuck is your deal, Toji? You get me hooked then you go ghost?”

"Hooked?"

"You know what I mean."

He chuckled, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. "It was just a bit of fun. Didn't mean anything by it."

"Bullshit. I'm not stupid. Why are you playing with me?"

He locks his hands under his chin. "I'm not playing with you."

You glared. "Yes, you are. I can see it in your eyes. You want me."

He sighed and shook his head.

"You're a kid. It would be inappropriate."

"I'm not a kid."

"Yeah, you are. Look, it's nothing personal. I just don't date girls like you."

"Girls like me?"

"Rich kids with their own personal army."

"I'm not-"

"Save it. I know who your dad is. I'm not interested in getting mixed up in his business, it was a mistake doing those things with you."

You swallowed thickly, his words like a slap.

"Then why the hell are you here?"

"Because I was invited."

"You're such a dick."

You were angry, but you couldn't help but notice how his eyes seemed to darken. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing as you. What it would be like to have him pin you down and fuck you. The thought made your cheeks flush.

"You know, I bet if I told your father what we'd been doing, he'd have a very different opinion of you."

"Is that a threat?"

"No. Just a reminder. Don't forget who's in charge here."

"Fuck you."

"I don't fuck little girls."

You could feel your anger rising, and you were tempted to throw something at him. But you knew he was right. He was in control, and there was nothing you could do about it.

"So, what now? Are we just going to pretend like nothing happened?"

"If that's what you want."

"I don't know what I want."

"Well, then I guess we're at an impasse."

"I hate you."

"Don't be dramatic. You barely know me."

"I know enough. You're a jerk and a bully."

"And you're a spoiled brat who needs to learn some respect."

You scoffed at him, clenching your fists.

"Don't push me, princess."

"Or what? What are you gonna do?"

"Oh, I can think of a few things." He quipped.

His eyes were dark and full of promise, and you could feel yourself growing wet.

"I bet."

"You wanna find out?"

“What I want is to slap that grin off your stupid face."

"Slap me. Do it."

"No."

"Why not? Too scared?"

"No."

"Then do it." He urges.

"Stop it."

"What? You're the one who's always pushing my buttons. Come on, princess. Show me what you got."

You stand and lift your hand, striking him sharply across the face, the crack resonating throughout the room. A sharp intake of breath escaped you, and your eyes widened in shock. His cheek flushed crimson, clearly marked by the outline of your hand. He smirked and ran his tongue over his lips.

"There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"You're an asshole."

"Yeah, and you're a spoiled bitch who likes to get fucked with my fingers."

You could feel your face flush, and you turned away from him.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

"Fine. Go fuck yourself." You sigh.

"Nah, I think I'll have you do it."

He chuckled, his voice deep and low.

"Oh, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" You snapped.

"No. Not with you. Never."

"Really? Not even a little?"

"Not even a little." You rolled your eyes.

"Come on, princess. You can't lie to me. I can see it in your eyes. I can practically smell the desire on you."

"Shut up."

"Why? Because I'm right?"

"No, because you're annoying."

"So, you're not interested? Not even a little?"

"Fuck you, bipolar ass."

"Ooh, feisty. I like it."

"I hate you."

"The feeling's mutual, sweetheart."

He was the one with the upper hand, and there was nothing you could do about it. He stands up from the table, face inches from yours. “Ya think if fucked you on this table lil ol’ daddy would hear?” You felt your pulse quicken, and a wave of arousal wash over you. "What? No snarky comeback?"

"You're a fucking pig."

"I might be, but at least I'm honest about it. Unlike you."

He stepped closer, his body pressing against yours. "Tell me, princess. Do you like the idea of being fucked on your family's expensive table?" You could feel his erection pressing against your hip, and you could barely contain the moan that threatened to escape.

"Tell me. Is this turning you on? The idea of being used like a cheap whore, your father just down the hall."

"Fuck you." You shakily breathe out. “You'd like that, wouldn't you? For me to bend you over and fuck your tight little pussy. Make you scream my name while your daddy is sipping his scotch, completely oblivious."

"Enough Toji.”

"What's the matter, princess? Don't want your daddy to know what a dirty little slut you are? How you’re fucking a grimy old man.”

"I'm not a slut."

"Could've fooled me. With the way you're always begging for my cock."

"I am not!"

"Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. We both know the truth."

You could feel your face burning, and you were desperate to put some distance between the two of you. But his body was like a brick wall, and you couldn't move.

"Get off of me."

"Why? Afraid you might enjoy it?"

"You’re…disgusting"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? If I bent you over and fucked you right here, right now. Made you scream so loud your daddy would come running. Wouldn't that be fun?"

You were furious, but the truth was, his words were turning you on. You couldn't deny the heat that was pooling between your legs, or the way your nipples were straining against your shirt.

"What's wrong, princess? Cat got your tongue?"

"Fuck. You."

"Mm, that's more like it."

His hand snaked up your shirt, his fingers grazing your nipples. You couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips, and you cursed yourself for being so weak.

"That's right, baby. Let me hear you."

"Stop it."

"Why? You don't like it?"

"No."

"Liar."

He squeezed your left bud, and you had to bite your lip to keep from crying out. "You like that, don't you? You like being manhandled by a real man. Not some preppy rich boy."

"Please."

"Please, what? Stop? Or keep going?"

"Keep…going."

"That's what I thought."

His hand dipped lower. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you wore this skirt for him. For easy access, of course. The way it hugged your curves, the way it rode up just enough to tease him, it was all too perfect. He couldn't help but think you knew exactly what you were doing. His hands slid up your thighs, feeling the soft fabric and the warmth of your skin beneath. As he lifted the skirt higher, his breath hitched, and he couldn't wait to ruin you. His fingers brushing against the growing wet spot on your pink laced panties.

"Such a dirty little slut. Look at you, already soaking wet and I've barely touched you."

"Fuck."

"Mmm, you want that, don't you? You want me to fuck you. Right here. Right now. In your daddy's house. Where he could walk in any minute and catch us."

"Please."

"Beg me."

"Please, fuck me."

"Good girl."

He pressed his thumb against your clit, and you mewled in pleasure.

“So loud, no respect."

You gripped the edge of the table, trying to steady yourself as he continued to assault your senses. His fingers were relentless, teasing and stroking, and soon, you were a writhing mess.

”Open your mouth.” he commands, a mischievous glint in his eyes. your mind is foggy, and you find yourself following his directions, opening your mouth slightly. You winch as his fingers dig into your cheeks, a glob of spit trickling from his mouth into yours. You can taste the acidity and bitterness as it slides down your throat. Your mind screams to pull away, but your body ignores it. The corners of his mouth twitch into a grin, his fingers leaving your face to grip your hair tightly.

The first slap sends your head flying, a dull ache beginning in the right side of your skull. He holds you in place and slaps you again, this time your teeth cut into your lip and the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. His eyes narrow, the grip on your hair tightening.

“Gonna fix you.”

"Please. Please."

"What? What do you want, princess?"

"I want… I want you."

"You want me to fuck you? To make you come?"

"Yes. God, yes."

"Say it."

"Please, fuck me."

He pushed your panties aside, his fingers delving into your slick heat. You sobbed, unable to contain the pleasure coursing through your body. He smirked, watching your expression as he slowly finger-fucked you.

"God, you're so fucking wet."

"Please. Please, don't stop."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

He added another finger, stretching you further. You grunted out, the sensation almost too much to bear. Toji presses the sloppiest kisses on your neck as he finger fucks you, pad of his thumb still working your sticky clit. You know it’s risky to be doing this, your father could come out at any moment. But, when Toji’s slender fingers prod into your mushy pussy, all rationality leaves your mind. All you can think about is his fingers pumping in and out of you.

Your thighs begin to tremble, and you can feel your orgasm building slowly but surely. Your toes curl, and your body begins to shake. You dig your nails into his shoulders, trying desperately to ground yourself. He continues his assault on your pussy, his fingers moving in and out of you at a rapid pace. “Ah she’s gushin’ all over me.” He laughs, watching your body spasm.

“Toji…please."

"Please what, princess?"

"I need...I need..."

"What? Tell me."

"I need to come."

"Not yet."

"Please. Please, I'm begging you."

"Oh, I love it when you beg. But not yet."

He withdraws his fingers, and you whimper at the loss. He smirks and sucks his digits, licking the juices from them. You can't help but stare at him, transfixed by his movements.

"God, you taste good. I could eat this pussy all day."

"Please."

"Patience, princess."

He turns you around and bends you over the table, your ass in the air. You can feel his erection pressing against your leg, and you know he wants this as much as you do. He pulls down up your skirt and frees his cock. It's big and thick, and you can't help but lick your lips. He strokes himself a few times, coating his cock with your juices as he slaps it on your pussy.

He rubs the head of his cock against your wet slit, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. You can't believe how turned on you are, how desperate you are to feel him inside of you. "Fuck me. Please, fuck me."

He has to clamp a hand over your mouth when he begins sheltering his beefy length into your cunt. Your scream is muffled by his hand, and he slowly pushes into you. The stretch is intense, and you can't help but clench around him. He grunts, his grip on your hips tightening with his free hand.

"God, princess, your pussy is so fucking tight."

You can't help but push back against him, wanting him deeper. despite the searing pain between your legs. He continues his assault on your pussy, thrusting in and out of you. Your moans are muffled by his hand, eyes rolling back into your head. It feels so good, “Shittt—ughm, can’t have you getting us caught.”

Toji whispers into your ear, the heat of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

He removes his hand from your mouth and wraps it around your throat, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

"God, you're so fucking hot."

You can't form words, the pleasure taking over.

He squeezes so hard you think you might pass out, but then his hand is gone, and he's pounding into you at a frenzied pace. "Fucking hell." He groans, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room.

You try to stifle your moans, but it's no use. He's relentless, driving into you again and again, his cock hitting all the right spots. You feel like heaven around him, walls constricting around his aching cock. He can't believe how lucky he is to have a little cockslut like you.

He fucks into you with reckless abandon, the table scraping against the floor. The sound of skin slapping now deafening, and the smell of sex permeates the air.

He reaches around and rubs your clit, tears streaming down your face.

"That's right, princess. Take it."

Your entire body is shaking, the pressure building until it's unbearable. He removes his hand from your throat and slaps your ass, the sharp pain pushing you closer towards the edge. You cry out. “ Q-Quie—“ he’s cutting you off as he slams his cock deep into you, the force of his thrust causing the table to squeak and shudder. “Shut up. Talk t-to much.” He mutters, shoving two of his fingers into your mouth.

The taste of yourself on his fingers sends you spiraling into oblivion. Your pussy clenches around him, and he groans.

"Oh fuck."

He pounds into you, his own release imminent.

"Gonna fill this little pussy with my cum."

He grips your hips tightly now with both hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. "Toji. Toji. Oh, fuck. Fuck." You cry out, stars exploding behind your eyes as your orgasm tears through you.

He groans and buries his cock deep inside of you, then he’s retracting. Thick white cream built at the base of his shaft, coating his cock in slickness. His eyes roll back at the sight of the pearlescent liquid smeared along his length. A thick layer coats his hand as he slides his fist along his member, his fingers moving easily from the wetness.

His balls draw up as his pleasure increases, his ass clenching with his need for release. Once again, you’ve got him cumming in under ten minutes. He hates it, but damn you feel so good.

"Fuckin’ killin me, can’t last with you.” He groans as he shoots his load on your ass.

You lay there, panting, trying to catch your breath.

"Fuck. You're perfect, princess."

You can't help but moan as he spreads your pussy from behind, his tongue lapping up the mixture of your juices.

"Tastes so good. I can't get enough."

You can't speak, the sensation too much for your spent body.

He continues his assault on your pussy until you're a whimpering mess, begging him to stop. He finally relents, standing up and tucking himself back into his pants.

"I think we made quite the mess, princess."

He smirks, the sight of you bent over the table, his cum dripping down your thighs a beautiful sight to behold.

“You alright sweetheart?” You hear your father call, confused by the commotion.

“I’m fine! Just stuffed.”

Toji snickers, placing a kiss on your cheek whilst pulling your skirt down. You can't help but smile, knowing that this isn't the last time you'll have him inside of you. You'll make sure of it.

[oceantornadoo]

ch9 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: kidnapping. yeah...

masterlist | next

You feel like a teenager again.

Your first date is full of nerves and hormones, shy eye contact in the warm light of the candlelight dinner. That is, the candlelight dinner John organized in the back of a London bookstore you’d never explored, shut down early for the public so you could have a private dinner date. He takes you on a shopping spree after, setting you loose on the quiet store with no restrictions on time or money. You pick a few books to be sent back to your library in the country (what an extraordinary thought to have!), and a few for home. Home. Over the past weeks, almost two months, you now think of John’s home as yours. His bed as yours, his life entwined with yours.

“I would say you’re spoiling me too much, but honestly, you owe me.” You mention as John shadows your book search, his body heat searing into yours. He laughs, waves of sounds settling into your skin. “Glad y’r stayin’ true t’ y’r beliefs, sweetheart.” You nudge him with your hip and he takes advantage of your proximity, pulling you closer into the cage of his body. You grab the book you were perusing and tug it to your chest on instinct. “Hey! I said nothing sexual.” John nuzzles your neck, hands wrapping around your waist to rub at the pudge of your stomach. “‘S not sexual, jus’ comfort.” You melt like chocolate, conforming to the contours of his body.

“Tell me ya hate me.”

He whispers into the space between your ear and shoulder. You shudder at his words, pushing back into him to get closer. “I’m not answering that.” It’s the best you can give him without showing your cards. He hums in approval, sending a shock of electricity to your core. “Guess I’ll hav’ t’ take ya out again.” You turn in his arms, the book between you like a shield. “Someone’s presumptuous. Don’t you know it’s bad luck to plan a second date during the first?” He shrugs, the grays in his beard glinting in the lamplight. “Y’r a sure thing, sweetheart.” You gasp in faux-outrage, hitting him square in the chest with the book you’re holding. He barely moves, not having the decency to look hurt. If anything, he stalks closer with eyes like a tiger, a look at you like you’re prey. “Do tha’ again.”

That night, his words echo in your head. A little flower of insecurity grows in a hidden crevice of your heart. “Y’r a sure thing, sweetheart.” The memory of his smile, joking and lighthearted in the moment, warps into a smirk in your mind. In the bed you’re lying in, you inch away from John’s sleeping body as it replays over and over. Would all of this be happening if you weren’t married? How much of his hunger for you is fed by the fact that you’re the closest option? That you’re easy, letting him get you off within a few weeks of knowing each other. Sleep only comes hours later, when you’ve wrought your brain of all its thinking power. 

John wakes you with sweet words and intimate cuddles, holding you against him as he tells you about all the places he wants to take you. Your earlier doubts, screaming and rioting, fade away into a whisper, letting his words wash over you. You forget about it.

Mostly.

-

Your own bookstore is getting along well. You’ve hired another assistant, a man named Arthur who was a referral of Phil’s. The extra help goes a long way, as he’s experienced enough to install the cafe you wanted in the front. In the next month, you order inventory and thrift furniture. You venture out to cafes to inquire about catering and post job listings for a cafe worker and bookseller. 

On the weeknights you go on dates, John insists on picking you up from the store. It’s only one or two nights a week, where he’s free enough to do a late dinner or a drive around town. John shows London to you in bits and pieces, shyly peeling back the film of mystery that covers the town. You go to hole-in-the-walls, cuisines ranging from Jamaican to Indian to traditional British fare. The owners always seem to know him, giving him the best seats of the house and refusing to take his card. You’re starting to understand how much of an influence he holds, how the caring husband behind closed doors is also the feared mafia boss outside of them. It’s like you’re learning him anew, sharing childhood memories and terrible twenties stories every date. It’s a fantasy of what life would’ve been like if you’d met him naturally.

Speaking of his frightfulness, he’s not friendly with either of your assistants, but after a stern talking to, he becomes begrudgingly polite. He speaks in monosyllables and grunts, only offering you a full English conversation. Despite yourself, you find it a little endearing. This non-jealousy looks good on him and makes him handsier in car rides.

“Y’ look so fuckin’ good in these.” He’s talking about the overalls you thrifted, which appalled Gaz when he stopped by for breakfast this morning. You insisted they’re practical for the work you’re doing: going through newly delivered inventory and moving furniture around to your liking. “Thought you liked me in fancy things.” You murmur. He tells your driver to keep driving, then rolls up the partition to give you some privacy. John yanks you into his lap, a tight fit between his bulk and the ceiling of the car. It forces you to curl in tighter, your head in the crook of his shoulder. “Think y’re wearin’ these to our next gala.” Our. It grows roots and you hope it's poisonous enough to kill that flower of insecurity. He pulls you closer, and even through the denim of your pants, you can feel him grow hard under you. “John…” He kisses your exposed neck, then licks at the dust that’s settled on your skin. It’s so primal, like he’s reduced to base instincts when he’s with you. “We’re not doin’ anythin’. Jus’ want ya t’ know wha’ ya do t’ me.” He bites your earlobe, then soothes it with a lick. “So this has nothing to do with my all-male employee force?” He growls and you giggle at his annoyance. John pulls you back a bit so you’re off his cock, smirking when you groan at the loss. “Nah. Jus’ reminding you wha’ y’ve got at home.” You plant a quick kiss on his lips, then roll off and into the seat next to him. Despite the glaring safety violation, you tuck your legs under you and rest your knee on his thigh. Your hand runs through his beard, then moves up to smooth the wrinkles on his forehead. “Consider me reminded.” He kisses your palm near his face. “Now take me to dinner, I’m starving.”

-

Weeks later, you’re home late from your favorite date yet. A private movie screening of a drama film you’ve been talking about for weeks. The set-up was thoughtful and sweet, with your favorite candies and popcorn set up with a comfy blanket. However, the movie was darker than you thought, with a primary focus on a father and his strained relationship with his daughter. Two hours of watching them on screen left you raw and bloody, silent on the car ride back home. 

“Feelin’ ok?” You nod. He squeezes your thigh, but when he tries to keep his hand there, you cross your legs so it falls off. He seems to get the message, stroking the outside of your thigh before pulling his hand back.

When you get home, Gaz is at your kitchen table. You nod to him in greeting, then try to bypass him in favor of a hot shower, but he stands up and blocks your path. “We need to talk, ma’am.” His eyes flick up to John standing behind you. “Sir, you need to hear this.”

Gaz lays out building plans and tax documents that blur in front of you. Your tired brain can’t comprehend what he’s saying, something about “encroachment” and “buying up buildings.” John goes into work mode, shrugging off his jacket and sitting down to take a closer look.

“Am I really needed here? I’m sorry, I’m just tired.” John’s eyes are warm but Gaz’s aren’t, his smooth skin marred by a frown. “Shepherd's bought a building a block from your bookstore. From what I can tell, it’s empty, but it’s a safety risk. It’s got a basement that we can’t get our eyes on.” You drag a hand down your face, clearly not equipped for this conversation. “Look, it’s empty, right? So just keep eyes on it and up my number of guards. I bought my bookstore under a ghost LLC, so the only way he’ll know is if he sees me. I’ll start using the back entrance.” Gaz’s eyes flit to John’s, waiting for his opinion. You groan at being dismissed so clearly.

“You know what, you guys figure this out. I’m going to bed.”

You leave before they can say anything. A hot shower calls your name, but the water is abrasive instead of calming. The same thing happens with your skincare, sitting too heavy for comfort on your face. When you’re ready for bed, and John’s still not there, you pop a few melatonin and go to sleep, eager to delay any sort of conversation. 

-

He wakes you by brushing your shoulder gently. It’s clear the sun’s been up for a while, a rare sleep in. “Hi, baby.” You grumble at his words, turning to smother your face in your pillow. He kisses your shoulder, where his hand was, and stays there for a second, dark blue eyes tracking yours. “We need to talk.” His tone switches from sweet to serious, enough of a change to warrant you turning back to squint at him. “No.” He did not expect that, eyebrows raising. “No to whatever suggestion you’re going to make about delaying my opening or shutting down my bookstore.” You push off the covers, rising to get ready, but he yanks your arm and tugs you under him.

“It’s not fuckin’ safe.” He growls out. You push against him, trying for once. He uses his strength against you, pushing you further into the mattress. “Then make it safer. I’m not giving this up. There’s not even a clear threat yet.” You spit. Your tactical knowledge of Simon’s security strategy come to the forefront of your mind. “I’m puttin’ Gaz on yer team.” You roll your eyes, finally pushing off him to go use the bathroom. He follows you like a hound, not stopping when you try to shut the door in his face. “You’re not putting Gaz on my team. He would hate it. I don’t need a babysitter.” John doesn’t trust you, doesn’t trust the fact that you’ve been in this life for decades and know how to analyze a threat. John doesn’t respond as you pee defiantly, even when you throw a roll of toilet paper at his head to get him to leave. It’s only when you’re done washing your hands that he responds.

“It’s gettin’ more violent everyday, sweetheart. I can’t be biased when I make this call. Might need to send you t’ the country.” You can’t even compute his sentence. “What, send me away like you did 20 years ago?” That was not what you wanted to say. That was not how you wanted this conversation to be, you washing your face in your shared bathroom while he stares at you through the mirror. “Spit it out, darlin’. ‘S clear you want to.” You don’t comment on how he’s never called you darling and how evil he is to whip it out in that deep accent of his now. You towel off your face, then whirl around to face him, exposed in so many ways. “I think it’s pretty clear. You send me away when I complicate things. You did it when I was a kid and you’re doing it now. I’m a fucking problem to you, John.” He runs a hand through his beard, agitated.

“Tha’ why you hate me? ‘Cuz I told yer old man t’ send you away when I was 16 and green in the gills, not knowin’ a damn thing?” You frown, turning back to rub lotion on your face. You take your time, rubbing the excess into your wrists. John tracks the movement with squinted eyes. “I know you were young, John, but I was too.” John pulls you into him by the fabric of your t-shirt (his t-shirt). He settles his hands on your waist, ensuring eye contact before speaking. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry f’ bein’ an idiot when I was young an’ not thinkin’ about the little girl’s life I was destroyin’.” Well. That was the apology you’d been chasing for months, if not years. So why weren’t you satisfied?

“Thank you. But it doesn’t change what you’re trying to do now.” You stand and look at each other, silent. His hands don’t move and neither do yours, akimbo at your sides. “‘M not sendin’ you away. I’m keepin’ ya safe.” He murmurs. You shake your head in disagreement. “London is my home, John. The bookstore is my life. Where would you even send me?” He looks away, uncharacteristically unsure. “The country.” You roll your eyes. “You said that. I’m asking where.” He grips your hips hard, startling you. “The library.” You bark out a laugh. “The library? What, am I gonna sleep on the couch and just haunt the place.” A realization dawns on you. “No way.” 

“Baby-”

“You own it?!”

“It was my first real estate purchase.”

“When were you going to tell me? You just, what, invented an old, dying friend?”

He almost looks embarrassed, the blush of his cheeks hidden in parts by his beard. “I didn’t want ya to feel trapped and you hated me too much then to take it freely. Yer mad I did somethin’ nice?” You pull away out of his grip, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I am trapped, John. No matter how I feel about you now, I didn’t pick this marriage. On top of that, you lied. You won’t let me go on trips with you, you’re trying to push these security decisions on me, and I can’t even tell if you like me for me or my proximity. I need to go to work before I say something I’ll regret.” You dodge his reach easily, shucking on the nearest nice clothes you can find before heading downstairs to find Terrance. The clothes end up being your recently worn jeans and one of his button-ups, white for a change. It smells like him, pine and musk and man. You sniff the collar discreetly when Terrance is arranging for the car. Quick steps thud down the stairs and when you turn he’s there in a suit, unruffled and polished. You dart out the front door as quickly as possible, but because you’re weak and shameful, you turn back right before you get into the car. You mouth ‘bye’, brows knitted in frustration, and a sliver of betraying warmth hits your heart as he mouths ‘bye’ back.

-

Kyle is going to ask for a raise next week. He’s been working twelve-hour days, tearing through Shepherd's finances non-stop. He’s finally gotten to Shepherd’s employee list, unofficial, of course. Bored with the bland names, he switches over to his tabs on the bookstore. In his perusal, a name catches his eye. Phillip Sorth. Where has he seen that before?

Kyle goes through the man’s file. Pretty standard, worked at a bar before this. Kyle didn’t create this report, handing it off to a person on his team. So he’s disappointed when he clicks on the bar name, The General, and is returned with a blank page. Whoever made this is getting fucking fired.

The bar closed down three years ago. Which is odd, because Phil’s resume says he only stopped working there six months ago. When Kyle runs the address, alarm bells go off. It’s one of Shepherd’s. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He dials Price’s phone, which goes straight to voicemail. Shit. While he waits, Kyle runs another test and sure enough, Phil’s NI number links to a Phillip Graves, not Sorth. Which, of course, is a name on Shepherd’s fucking list. A top name, actually. The man’s a high-ranking spy.

Kyle dials Terrance, who also doesn’t pick up. He bursts out of the security room and ensures his keys are in his pockets before heading out the door. “Shut this shit down. We’re at Level 5.” He barks out to the men guarding the door, emulating his Captain. They immediately start talking in their earpieces and out of the corner of his eye, Kyle sees his men in the park close in on the Castle. Good. Someone needs to protect this place while he tracks down a fucking rat. Before someone harms the new angel of the Castle.

-

“Arthur, do you mind putting these away? I think my arms are going numb.” He takes the box from your hands with ease, winking as he walks away. You breathe out a sigh of relief, then trek to find Phil. He was finalizing the checkout desk, but now he’s nowhere to be seen. You really want to get his opinion on your ideas for wall decor. You head back to the office, thinking he might be there, but pause right before you walk in. Phil’s on the phone, and the walls are thin enough that you can hear his entire conversation.

“Yessir, copy that.” Who’s he calling sir? It’s like how Gaz addresses John, deferent and loyal. “Affirmative. Later today. We’ll get the van ready and-”, the rest of what he says is muffled, like he’s turned away from the door. Something isn’t right. 

That’s when you realize you haven’t seen Terrance in over thirty minutes. He went to the bathroom, which he always tells you about, making you feel like a third-grade teacher, but he hasn’t come back. You dig in your pocket for your phone, then swear when you remember you left it on the cafe counter. When you turn to go find it, there’s a wall in front of you. A human wall. Arthur.

“Sorry ‘bout this.” You try to run but a strong grip captures your arms, holding you firmly in place. From the corner of your eye you see Phil, holding you tight as you struggle against him. “John will find you. My brother will find you. You’re going to-”, except you can’t tell him what he’s going to regret, as Arthur holds a rag over your mouth and everything goes dark.

-

Sorry this took so long! This semester has been crazy. Im thinking 3-4 more chapters and we’ll be done! I hope nothing happens to reader…

-

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LO$ER=LO♡ER

18+ / mdi

summary: jihoon's been pushed aside and ostracized from the moment he was born. completely alone, with no family and only a handful of friends, he's been too beaten down to expect anything good with the shitty cards life has dealt him. when he's presented with his new coworker, it's hard to not fantasize about her, but he'll never actually allow himself to believe she could ever look like him with anything but pity — just like everyone else.

content: loser!jihoon, antisocial!jihoon, sociallyawkward!jihoon, insecure!jihoon, sunshine!reader, jihoon is basically just a complete loser with horrible luck who's never felt true happiness (sorry), mentions of bullying, mentions of jihoon's sad past, sunshine!reader, slowburn, lots of worldbuilding but its just so u can feel sorry for jihoon lol, coworkers au, pining, miscommunication, afab reader, smut, sub!jihoon, virgin!jihoon, handjob, body worship, nipple play, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 14k

a/n: this was my fave concept to write so far honestly hehe

masterlist

Every week was the same.

Jihoon would get up, fix his overgrown hair the best he could, and take the train over to work.

This was as far as he'd gotten in life; an overly repetitive existence with no sense of joy within it.

He should've been happy. Things were better now. Being 27 with a stable job and no real issues in his life should be something to be grateful for, yet Jihoon found himself being completely displeased with his life.

Surely there must be more to life than this, right? A lonely and loveless life that appeared to be leading him nowhere. But still, things were better than before.

It was hard for Jihoon to speak of his childhood, much less his teenage years (or even his college life). It was all too grim. He'd grown to accept it, to let it all go, but the past had made him who he was, and he knew his current self was to blame for his loneliness. For his lack of love.

And so he continued his daily routine, living day after day with no change in sight. He accepted this with a flat smile, grateful that things were just fine. Not good, not great, not even varied, but just fine.

This week, though, finally had something different. But to Jihoon that was usually bad news.

Were you bad news?

You were the brand new thing in his life.

It was your first week in his office. A brand new face. A very pretty face.

Jihoon never thought about such things. He'd never had any romantic experience in his life. He had a long distance girlfriend once, but even that didn't work out. Too much distance, too many lies, too many complications. Jihoon just wasn't made for love.

So he never thought of such things again.

It was rare for him to even see a pretty girl on his day to day. His morning commute was far too early and filled with people way too old for him to even look in the eye without feeling disrespectful. His workplace, although consisted of a variety of people, was not a place where he felt very welcome initiating friendships or anything of the sort. Cliques had ended in high school, he thought, yet he found himself at the bottom of the food chain among his coworkers. He wasn't liked and was deliberately avoided by everyone around him.

Until you came along.

Finding you beautiful was no surprise to Jihoon. It was the most obvious thing in the world. Putting appearances aside, you were sunshine personified. Smart, confident, hardworking, gentle, nice, beautiful. You were everything anyone could ever want. At times Jihoon even wondered whether he wanted you or if he just wanted to be like you.

You'd caused an immense impression in him within the short time in which he'd known you.

He hadn't really gotten to know you on a personal level yet. But you had extended him an olive branch upon the first meeting, which was a memory that had implanted itself on his mind. It was rare for Jihoon to come by good memories.

This was the first time he'd felt accepted in a very long time. Yet the fears of it turning around and slapping him in the face (like in so many prior instances) was too big for him to really consider you good news in his life.

It was kind of embarrassing looking back at it. Jihoon hadn't been expecting you (how could he have?), but you suddenly showed up at his cubicle accompanied by one of his coworkers, Doyle.

Doyle wasn't someone Jihoon thought too much about — or at least he tried not to. He was the classic high school bully, except in a corporate-world wrapping. Jihoon had dealt with bullies his whole life, he'd become desensitized to it by now. Still, it bothered him to see him standing next to you. He hadn't met you yet, but he was immediately disheartened by the new girl at the office looking buddy-buddy with someone he considered an adversary.

What had been surprising to Jihoon, though, was your complete disinterest in Doyle's obvious advances.

It was pretty often that Doyle would attempt to assert his dominance by putting Jihoon down in front of other coworkers. He'd tease him and patronize him in front of anyone to see in order to show others who was in charge. And it was not Jihoon, that was for damn sure.

Jihoon got up as soon as he sensed a presence at his cubicle, somehow managing to stumble over his feet as he did so. When he looked up, he was not expecting you, yet there you were. Beautiful, smiling down at him with genuine interest in your eyes. You didn't know him, but you had kindness in your eyes. He could tell.

He stumbled over an introduction as Doyle interrupted him, telling you Jihoon's name and position at the company for him. Unwarranted and once again showing that if he so wished, he could speak over Jihoon.

But you'd interrupted him in return, turning to Jihoon to extend your hand with that smile never leaving your lips.

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," you'd smiled as he felt fire at the mere handshake.

"Hi, I, uhm, I'm Jihoon. Lee Jihoon. I didn't realize we had someone new coming. It's nice to meet you. You- If you need anything, you can always ask me," he slapped himself mentally when he said it. He stuttered his way through it like a fucking loser. His immediate attraction to you was too obvious. Doyle's smirk as he stood beside you told him all he needed to know.

"Oh, that's so nice, thank you! I'm right next door. Well- right next cubicle, so I'll probably take you up on that sooner or later," you laughed at your own attempt of a joke.

Jihoon couldn't help chuckling back, ignoring Doyle as he patted your shoulder, laughing along. Jihoon noticed a short-lived discomfort in your eyes at the action, one which died when your eyes went back to him.

Was he imagining it, or were you showing preference towards Jihoon?

"Well, let's not bother our little Jihoonie here any longer," Doyle interrupted once more, "It's almost lunch time," he leaned in to tell you, looking down at Jihoon, "We all usually go to a burger joint nearby — Jihoonie here likes to stay in, so we try to stay out of his way."

That wasn't entirely true.

Once upon a time, Jihoon did attempt to join the rest of his coworkers in outings, but he was always alienated. After a few too many slights about his hair, his height, his weird choice in clothing, or even just his personality, he decided to stray away from anything that wasn't strictly professional when it came to his coworkers. He was always the butt of the joke, so he made the decision to isolate in the office with a cold sandwich he packed for himself every day.

Sometimes his friends Soonyoung and Mingyu from accounting would join him, but there was usually not enough time to see them during regular working hours. This left him alone most of the time.

Your face seemed to deflate at Doyle's words. Whether it was out of pity for Jihoon or annoyance at Doyle's overzealous confidence around you, he wasn't sure.

"Oh, I actually brought a packed lunch," you told Doyle before turning to face Jihoon again, "Would it be okay if I stay in with you?", you looked at him with expectant eyes.

"You wanna, uhm, have lunch with me?", he asked dumbly and you nodded, "Y-yeah, that'd be nice, yes," he attempted a shy smile, succeeding when you returned it.

Doyle cleared his throat, interrupting the silent smiles you and Jihoon were sharing.

"Well, I could stay in with you if you want, I-"

But you interrupted him again.

"That's fine. I don't wanna get in the way of your plans. Jihoon will make fine company," you said politely, stepping away from Doyle to head over to your desk, popping back next to Jihoon with a brown paper bag.

Doyle looked dumbfounded for a few moments before masking it with a tight smile. Jihoon simply stood there as you pulled up a chair and settled it on Jihoon's desk, paying no mind to Doyle.

"I guess I'll leave you two to it. I'll keep showing you around after lunch. You have my number if you need anything," Doyle made emphasis on that last statement, offering you what looked like a genuine smile before giving Jihoon a look that told him he still felt victorious in the end.

"Thanks, Doyle! Bye!," you smiled back before turning to Jihoon.

Lunch was incredibly awkward for Jihoon. But that wasn't your fault. You'd been incredibly nice, asking him questions and keeping the conversation going despite the mumbly, shy mess Jihoon was. The conversation was entirely carried by you, with you surprisingly taking an interest in him. Every word, every gesture, they all led him to believe you were genuinely nice.

At the same time, he felt entirely delusional.

It wasn't often that people were nice to him, so it was likely he was building it up to be more than it actually was. You likely did not want to stay in with him, but after Doyle brought up that Jihoon was the only one in the office during lunch break, you had no option but to join him since you also planned to stay in. However, you were a good team player, Jihoon believed. Not many people would sacrifice their lunch to stay in with the black sheep of the office just to rid yourself of any possible awkwardness. Jihoon knew damn well many previous coworkers had gone out of their way to avoid him before.

But despite the belief that you simply pitied him, Jihoon missed your time spent together the moment it ended. He felt shy and blushed bright red at every single word uttered from you, but it had been the nicest interaction he'd had in a long time (a long, long time).

That had happened last Wednesday, repeating itself on Thursday, Friday, and then a whole weekend was spent with Jihoon solely thinking about you. Time that he usually spent reading or playing chess online was instead used up to think about you. It was mostly to overthink every tiny interaction and panic over it, but it was was still preoccupied by you.

But he also thought about other things.

How beautiful he found you to be. How nice, funny, hardworking, smart and riveting you were (despite this being an assessment he'd made in less than a week of knowing you). This was Jihoon's first crush in ... he couldn't even remember how long.

And it was terrible.

Every crush he'd ever had had turned out terribly. Harmless elementary school crushes turned into pranks pulled by his classmates in order to embarrass him. Prepubescent middle school crushes became false confessions that led to public embarrassment. Hopeless high school crushes were nothing but a farse that led him into giving up altogether.

Throughout his practically non-existent love life, Jihoon had always been met by nothing but discouragement, sometimes by simple rejection and other times by harassment from people who believed him to be unworthy of being liked. These were memories he did not like to relive, but the resurgence of feelings for someone brought them all back.

And so he was unsure of how to feel. He was unsure of whether to let himself like you or recoil, unwilling to even try.

"Hey, Jihoon, do you think you could help me with this?", you asked him on Monday.

After spending all weekend thinking about you, Monday finally came. He was unsure as to whether or not your friendly behavior would continue onto your second week, when you were more settled in. In the usual cold and reserved fashion he'd adopted for the past decade, he avoided you most of the morning. When he saw you in the elevator upon arriving at the office, he stalled, waiting for the door to close so he wouldn't have to share the ride with you. He hadn't wanted to avoid you so blatantly, but apparently his past trauma had taken control of his body at the time.

If you noticed, he hadn't realized. He hoped you hadn't.

And now, a few hours into the day, you were asking for his help, and even his anxieties couldn't prevent him from helping you. He wanted to be good to you. At the moment, it was what he wanted most. He was unsure as to why.

He got up, hands fidgeting together as he took the few steps over to your desk, awkwardly standing next to your seat as you turned towards the computer on screen. Taking a few steps closer, he cleared his throat, standing right behind you and leaning down in order to check out whatever was on screen before you began to explain.

"So sorry to bother you, Jihoon! I, uh, I was just wondering what I should do when I get this pop-up? I tried looking over the manual, but I couldn't find anything," you pointed over at the screen, eyes still on it, "It's just-"

Jihoon invertedly leaned closer, eyes also on the screen. As soon as he looked at what was on display, he locked in, fully focused on the issue at hand.

Surprisingly even to himself, Jihoon enjoyed his job. He was amazing at it, and getting to help you out was just a bonus.

"Oh, yeah. It's a glitch. It happens sometimes. Here, let me just ..."

Without thinking, he interrupted you, hands taking over your mouse and keyboard as he leaned impossibly closer without realizing it. His head was right next to yours, but since he was too focused on the task at hand, he did not have the realization to be flustered at the proximity. And then he fucked up even further.

Continuing to help you, he began rambling out explanations about what he was currently doing on screen. He rambled on and on, showing you step by step how to handle the issue and adding on extra details the average person would not concern themselves with. He was so into it, he didn't realize he went on for a good five minutes, all while you sat next to him, staring quietly at the screen as you watched his every move.

That was until he was abruptly interrupted.

"Jesus Christ, Jihoon, you're going to make the girl never want to ask for help again," Doyle's voice suddenly rang through, a mocking yet patronizing tone wrapped around every word.

Jihoon's movements halted when he heard a few giggles from other coworkers resounding at Doyle's statement. Slowly, he backed his hands away from the mouse, barely registering how close he was to you when his face turned to your own, finding you looking at him with a worried look on your face — he couldn't decipher what it meant, but he was too embarrassed to even think of it.

He jumped back at the proximity, mumbling out an apology with a bow of his head.

"S-sorry, I-"

"Yeah, yeah. It's fine, Jihoon, we all know you get a little over excited sometimes," Doyle leaned over the other side of the desk, "Don't mind him, Y/N. You'll learn to tune out his rambling at some point, we've all had to — that, or you'll go crazy."

Doyle turned around after that, throwing a wink over at you that, for some reason, made Jihoon wince.

Yeah, okay. He was a fucking loser, he was well aware. The reminder felt like overkill at this point in his life.

Like a dog with his tails between his legs, Jihoon looked down, giving you one last pathetic 'sorry' before turning away. Not even chancing a single glance your way after Doyle's interruption, he preferred to save himself further embarrassment and left the room altogether. He had done most of his work and lunch was close. Taking an early lunch seemed like the best idea.

Hastily, he grabbed the lunch bag under his desk and walked towards the exit, ears barely registering a faint 'Jihoon' coming from the direction he had just left.

~

Today, he'd chosen to leave the office for lunch.

Well, not really. He'd just stepped outside, finding some empty bench in front of the building to sit at. It wasn't like he could eat at his desk as per usual when everyone else was still there. He just couldn't stay there after being shut down like that in front of you.

All things considered, it hadn't been the most embarrassing thing to happen to him, but it still left him feeling like an absolute loser.

The worst of it all had been that you'd seen it all and hadn't even reacted.

It's not like he had expected you to stand up for him. Hell, you barely knew him. Maybe it was just easiest to engage with the majority; to laugh along when Doyle made a joke, joining in on the muted laughter of all his other coworkers any time Jihoon was used as the butt of some joke.

Except that you didn't laugh. Jihoon didn't even register your reaction before leaving, instead reacting in the same fashion as a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Fuck, you probably thought he was a fucking baby on top of already thinking of him as some defenseless loser. Jihoon wanted to blame it all on Doyle, but it was also his fault.

"Jihoon?"

His train of thought was interrupted by a sudden voice, startling him into squeezing his hands around the unbitten sandwich he'd been holding this whole time.

Turning to the voice, he found you standing there, paper bag in hand as you hesitated walking closer.

When he turned to you, mouth agape in surprise at your sudden appearance, you took a few steps forward, likely taking his silence as an okay. Like a fish out of water, he opened and closed his eyes a few times, unknowing of what to say. He really hadn't expected you to follow him out.

Dropping his sandwich, he cursed at himself. He attempted to catch it, but his hand to eye coordination had never been the best, so it just resulted in him fumbling his hands like an idiot before his sandwich met its demise on the dirty floor.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to catch you off guard," you apologized, rushing to the floor in front of him, squatting in front of him as you picked up his fallen lunch.

"I-It's fine, I-"

"No, Jihoon, I've already ruined your day enough, fuck. And now your lunch is ruined," you sounded genuinely disappointed, "Here, we can share my lunch! I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise."

You remained kneeling in front of him as he sat on the bench. Jihoon cringed at knowing your skirt would get dirty at its contact with the floor but you didn't seem to care. Instead, you looked up at him with worry towards him. Your eyebrows were furrowed and your bottom lip stuck out a bit in a small pout. It was both adorable and nerve-wracking.

"Please get up, you'll get your skirt dirty," was all he found himself saying.

Jihoon caught you chuckling under your breath before getting up, dusting your skirt and then taking a seat next to him. The distance you allowed between the two of you was too small for Jihoon's well-being, but a part of him deep down was happy about him.

You looked down at your lap for a bit, so did Jihoon. The two of you were quiet for a few seconds, but Jihoon was unsure why. You appeared to be bashful, perhaps even a little shy? It was strange to see. There was no reason for you to feel shy around Jihoon. He was the mess here. He was the one who should be avoiding eye contact, hiding himself away from you to ensure he didn't ruin things between you — Things, as if the two of you were anything at all. He was overthinking things again.

"Jihoon," you interrupted his train of thought.

"Hmm? Yeah?"

Idiot.

"I, uhm, I'm sorry about what happened back there," you began. Jihoon almost interrupted you, shaking his head and raising his hands to halt you, but you shook your own head, continuing, "I should've said something. I know I'm new, but god, Doyle's such an idiot. You didn't deserve that, especially since it was my fault. I'm really sorry."

Your eyes showed nothing but sincerity as you spoke. A certain worry reflected in your face, making Jihoon's heart soar, crumbling with some sort of guilt he didn't understand.

He had no idea how to react.

"I- I'm sorry," he stuttered, "I didn't- It's not your fault. I didn't mean to make you feel like-"

"What? No, Jihoon, I'm apologizing. You just wanted to help me and I wasn't appreciative. I should've told Doyle to get fucked," you put your lunch bag aside, scooting over a little closer and hesitating a bit before grabbing onto one of his hands, "I'm really sorry. I hope this doesn't hurt our friendship."

"Friendship?"

You flushed at his question, "Yeah, I, uh, aren't we friends? I know it's only been a few days, but-"

"Yes! We're friends, I'm sorry," you gave him a look, "Right, sorry, force of habit. Fuck, okay, I'll stop now," his hand itched in yours as you chuckled at him, "I ... Thank you. It's really nice of you to come check up on me. Don't, uh, feel like you have to stand up for me. Doyle's just ... well, what you said. I wouldn't want you to get picked on too."

"Don't worry about that, Jihoon. He wouldn't do that. He likes me," you revealed casually.

"What?"

"He asked me out last Friday, but I turned him down."

Jihoon's hand tightened around yours without him realizing. That revelation made him feel something he'd never felt before. It was as if his heart dropped while his jaw tightened. It might've been annoyance, but it felt stronger than that. Doyle? Doyle liked you? That bit was not shocking to Jihoon. But the fact that he'd asked you out surprised him. Did he have no care for you as a coworker? You were new, for god's sakes! What you needed was guidance, a friend, a colleague willing to walk you through the work like he needed back when he first started. Yet Doyle was instead choosing to-

"Jihoon? Are you okay?"

Fuck. He'd been rambling internally again. If Jihoon had a nickel for every time he embarrassed himself in front of you ..

"Yeah, uhm, sorry. Just, uh, don't really get along very well with Doyle."

"Can't imagine why," you said sarcastically, "Is there a story behind it?"

Your hand left his own at some point during your conversation, instead going to empty out your paper bag and absentmindedly split the sandwich you had in there. Without saying anything, you offered him a half, smiling in encouragement when he hesitated to take it.

"I, uh, it's nothing. Just dumb workplace drama," he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "I'm just not too good at standing up for myself."

That sure was a way to downplay it. But Doyle truly wasn't the sole culprit to Jihoon's history with alienation. This had been his entire life. Jihoon had grown far too accustomed to being harassed in every way imaginable. From alienation, to physical beatings, to even having his life threatened, Jihoon had gone through it all. Back in his youth, he wondered if it'd been something he'd done. If maybe he was just unlikable and that was why everyone either avoided him or attempted to make his life even more miserable. As he grew, he began to wonder if perhaps it'd been due to growing up without any proper socialization. His parents had, well, not really existed — something which pained him to think about — which left him sad and alone for most of his upbringing. This was probably why he was never able to properly interact with other people, leaving him as an easy and defenseless target.

It wasn't a secret to Jihoon that he was weird. And even that was an understatement. As a young boy, he was always into things that most people found strange. He was too focused on books and anything that could expand his intellect. This was followed by his incessant need to babble about his niche interests to anyone willing to listen (which was usually no one). He quickly into his teenage years that this was not welcomed by people — usually learning it through patronizing teasing or some classmates taking on physical means to shut him up. Unfortunately, even as an adult, he'd continued to make this mistake, thinking that maybe he'd meet people who enjoyed his eccentric personality without shutting him down. He'd done it at this same job, immediately learning that his input (or his personality in general) were not very well appreciated.

"But that's still not okay, he shouldn't-"

"Hey, it's fine, really," he smiled at you, "It's more than enough that you'd wanna, uh," he hesitated, "that you'd want to be my friend. You know, with all things considered."

"Are you kidding? You're easily the funnest person in the office," you moved past the subject, likely understanding it was a sore spot for him, "Everyone else is kind of stuck up, honestly."

"Hmm, yeah? I can believe that."

He went on to take a bite from the sandwich you'd offered him, humming at finally being able to fulfill some of his hunger.

"What, they're mean to you but you won't even say anything bad about them?" you gaped at him.

He shrugged, "It's not productive. I don't hate them."

"Wow. You're a way better person than I am, Lee Jihoon," you sounded impressed as you said it.

And that was more than good enough for him.

Jihoon's friendship with you continued to flourish during the upcoming months after that.

Any other instance in which Jihoon would've usually cowered under the targeted disdain of his coworkers was instead met with your intervention. You'd usually interrupt, somehow turning the conversation away from him or even subtly shooting back against whoever had decided to snark at Jihoon.

The first few times had him blushing an embarrassing shade of red, stammering as he attempted to respond or even just appear normal at what had just occurred. He'd never experienced someone standing up for him, much less did he feel like he deserved it. Having your presence in such uncomfortable circumstances was more than enough to aid him, but knowing that you wanted to defend him made his heart go crazy.

Within the short time that he'd known you, it was obvious to Jihoon that, against all his attempts to prevent it, he'd developed a crush on you.

Under any other set of circumstances, that might've been fine. However, Jihoon had never in his life been under normal circumstances.

Crushing on you was entirely too terrifying. You were the most perfect girl he'd ever met — the only girl he'd allowed himself to be interested in in far too many years. He knew deep within him that he could not allow these feelings to continue flourishing, but he had never been quite good at burying his emotions.

It felt so high school. All of it. He was the loser outcast and you were the pretty cheerleader the quarterback was chasing after. The only difference was that unlike in high school, you were giving him the time of day.

Back in school, any time Jihoon found himself liking a girl, he was never met with reciprocation. Which was fine, of course. There were a few instances, though, in which it went further than lack of reciprocation, or even just rejection. Jihoon would need more than two hands to count the amount of romantic humiliations he'd undergone in his life.

There had been instances where he was confessed to as a joke, or even times when he was led to believe his feelings were mutual, only to be rejected in some cruel way. It felt like out of a movie at times.

Jihoon supposed he couldn't really blame others for their childish games. He was an easy target, lacking any familial or any sort of adult protection during his youth. Plus, he knew his victimhood was only a phase of these people's lives.

It was strange, however, that staying at the bottom of the totem pole throughout his life just seemed to become normalcy for him. He expected that once he grew, got a respecting job and found more friends that he'd move up in social hierarchy — or at least stop being metaphorically beaten down at every turn (he was at least grateful that the beatings were now metaphorical rather than literal).

You were the complete opposite of him.

In the time he'd known you, he'd come to find out that your life up until now had been nothing short of picture-perfect. You made friends easily in the office, even befriending people outside of your department you had no obligation of interacting with. And this was not new to you. You'd let Jihoon in on your childhood, telling him about your years as a cheerleader in high school, even riding that cheerleader wave all the way to college. Your entire life had been spent happy and surrounded by people who enjoyed your company.

Yet, somehow, your company of choice had become Jihoon.

Being chosen, wanted — even if just platonically — was something Jihoon had never experienced. His brain would override every single time he saw you, attempting both to not fuck things up between you and to leave his crush dormant.

This proved incredibly difficult at times. Any time you subtly stood up for him, or any time you smiled at him before leading him outside for lunch (at the bench that had now become your place. Yours and Jihoon's) together, or even when you'd simply scoot your chair slightly closer to his own during meetings, Jihoon felt himself sink deeper and deeper. His heart and his brain were constantly working against each other.

Tonight would be his hardest battle as of yet.

The two of you had yet to see each other outside of work in the past two months you'd known each other. This was fine to Jihoon. More than fine, actually. It gave him time away from you to recover from the palpitations your mere presence caused him (which required quite a lot of time).

Tonight, however, was the in which night he'd begrudgingly agreed to join you and the rest of your department on a night out.

Apparently these happened every few weeks. Jihoon had never known about them. Figures.

You were an active participant of these outings, usually insisting that Jihoon tag along, that you'd be there and would not leave his side (God help him). He'd even come to find that his friends Soonyoung and Mingyu from accounting would be there. The realization that he was such a hermit that he didn't even know his closest friends hung out outside of work without him did bother him a little.

And so he agreed. Against his better judgment, he let your pout and your wide eyes talk him into going to a bar with people (mostly) he knew hated him.

~

Jihoon had been unsure of how to dress.

When he'd texted Mingyu about it, he'd been met with a three-way call between him, Gyu and Soonyoung celebrating his first social outing in months. And then he'd been berated about showing off his 'assets,' whatever that meant.

Sure, Jihoon knew he was more fit than the average person, but this was something he usually felt shy about. He believed himself to be overcompensating for everything else he lacked in his person, both physical and personality-wise. So, it was safe to say that most of his clothes did not show off his assets.

Still, he made the attempt to follow both Mingyu's and Soonyoung's advice when it came to dressing up. Even if his crush was currently forced down a basement and locked away, he still had some dumb desire of impressing you.

You impressed him every day, whether you meant to or not. There was no dress code at his company, but formal attire was pretty much the norm, and you ... you worked with it quite amazingly, if Jihoon had anything to say. From the pencil skirts to the perfectly tailored dress shirts and blouses, you always left Jihoon working overtime to avert his eyes to more respectable places.

And so today he wanted to impress you. Donning some tighter jeans than usual (to show off his lust-worthy legs, had said Soonyoung) and a dress shirt unbuttoned just enough to give way to his chest (which Mingyu had called 'sculpted to the gods'), Jihoon moved on to his hair. He'd come to realize that unlike most other people, you really liked his hair. You constantly complimented the length and the pale tone of it. Bleaching his hair was something he'd started to do once he graduated college. He wanted some sort of separation away from his hometown when he'd moved away to work at the company, and despite the constant negative feedback, he'd decided to keep it.

He opted to let it down tonight, diffusing it after washing it to ensure some volume and a slight wave to it.

He looked fine, he thought. Jihoon didn't have any particular positive opinion about his appearance, but at least he'd gone from thinking himself a hideous hermit to simply okay. But according to Mingyu and Soonyoung, who'd offered to drive him, he looked like sex waiting to happen.

Blushing, Jihoon was unsure as to whether he wanted that to come true or not.

~

The hardest part had been arriving at the bar.

You were the first person he spotted as he and his friends walked in. The place was packed with members of your office, people he'd only seen in passing as he made his way over to his floor gathered with coworkers he wished he didn't know as well as he did.

But all of that left his mind immediately upon registering it. You were his priority. And everyone else's it seemed. Various men in your vicinity had their eyes on you, Doyle included.

Jihoon couldn't blame them. How in the world could he when you looked like that?

You were completely ignorant to any of the attention you were receiving. Standing by the bar, you were nursing a drink, leaning your body against it and giving Jihoon (and everyone else) the perfect view of your form. The slip dress you were wearing was shorter than the usual skirts you wore at school, allowing your legs to receive the well-deserved attention of anyone willing to appreciate the beauty before them.

This was the most skin Jihoon had seen of you. It made him feel like a depraved pervert to stand there and just stare, but he was hypnotized. The fleeting thought of getting to do more than just see passed through his mind, sending shivers down his spine. He had to shake his head to remove any filthier thoughts from entering his mind. He felt embarrassed and idiotic involving you in such thoughts. A sad, lonely virgin using his one and only female friend to feed himself with such thoughts was incredibly sick and deprived and-

"Dude, stop drooling. You haven't even said hi yet."

Mingyu nudged at him, breaking him away from his trance at once. Jihoon shook his head again to reset, coughing awkwardly as he attempted to negate what Mingyu had said, only to be interrupted by the other guy he'd arrived with.

"You look like sex on legs, man. Go talk to her. We'll go find a table. Come find us if you fuck everything up somehow," Soonyoung received a swift punch to his shoulder at his comment, but shrugged it off as he gave Jihoon thumbs up, walking away with Mingyu.

Taking a deep breath, Jihoon walked over to you, finding you still distracted by your drink.

Before he could even announce his presence, you sensed him, turning back and immediately offering him a wide smile. Good, you were happy to see him.

"Jihoon!," you left your drink on the counter to engage with him in a hug. His arms hovered over your waist, avoiding direct contact both for his sanity and out of respect.

Physical contact had never been Jihoon's forte. Usually he'd need some sort of warning ahead of time in order to mentally prepare himself. When it came to you, he so badly wanted his proclivity against physical touch to burn and die in a fire. He found himself craving your hug the moment you pulled away.

"I honestly thought you wouldn't come," you chuckled.

"I promised I'd come," he smiled back.

"C'mon, let's get you a drink. On me," you turned back to the bar, flagging down the bartender before turning back to him, "You don't seem like a big drinker. Is a beer okay?", he nodded at you as you handed him the drink.

The two of you leaned against the bar after that, letting silence between you consume you. Jihoon wasn't sure what to say. This was the first time he'd seen a girl outside of work in ... well, ever. And it wasn't just any girl — it was you.

"You look beautiful," he braved, finishing it off with an awkward cough.

Your body turned to his, a shy smile being hidden behind a lip bite, "Yeah? High compliment coming from you."

"H-hmm?"

"Jihoon, you look amazing," you emphasized, "I had no idea you were hiding all this under those baggy suits," your hands went to play with the neck of his collar, "Maybe unbutton it one more?", you said as you did so, "There, that's better."

Jihoon burned up. A tomato's red shade could not compare to how red his ears must've been at that moment. He flushed, breath hitching at your fingers gracing the skin of his chest. All he could do was clear his throat and advert his eyes, awkwardly smiling and nodding at you.

"You're cute," you giggled.

"Uhm, are you drunk?", he couldn't help in asking.

You giggled again, "I'm not, Jihoon. Is it that hard to believe I find you cute? Because you are. I don't know how you don't realize. You've been getting eye-fucked by those girls over there since you walked in," you pointed behind him, leading him to find two girls attempting at subtly looking his way, whispering among each other.

"O-oh, uhm, I'm sure that's not what they're doing," he stumbled, flushed.

"Uh-huh. Anyways, c'mon. I hate hanging out at the bar. Let's find a table," you grabbed onto his wrist then, pulling him towards the back of the bar.

On his way to the table of your choosing, he spotted his two friends, receiving a childish thumbs up from Soonyoung and a mouthed 'my man!' from Mingyu. He groaned internally, shaking his head and frowning at them. Once you made it to an empty table, you even commented on it.

"Those are Soonyoung and Mingyu, right? I'd never actually met them before. Come here with them?"

"Oh, yeah. I- ignore them, they're just being dumb," he scoffed lightly.

His hands laid flat on the table, unknowing of what to do with them. Your demeanor was way more relaxed than his own. It was clear to anyone around that you could blend into any environment. Jihoon, in the meantime, had trouble adjusting practically anywhere, especially at a social pool such as a bar.

"It's fine, Jihoonie, they're just rooting for you," you winked at him before enveloping the straw of your own drink in your mouth.

Jihoon decided not to overthink that (or maybe save it for later), also swinging at his own drink to avoid more awkward words leaving his mouth. He wasn't even sure why he was being such a socially inept mess. The two of you had had long-winded conversations at work many times before, maybe it was just the current setting. It felt the way he assumed a date would, except that it wasn't.

"Hmm, can I have a sip? My drink's too sweet. Here, have a taste," you went to grab at his beer, shoving your pink drink to his side of the table.

Looking down at the straw, he noticed the red shimmer of your lipstick on it, gulping at the thought of letting his lips touch it. But before he could psych himself out, he did it.

Before actually sipping at the drink, he allowed himself taste the lipstick. It was a sick and depraved thing to do, but he couldn't help himself. If this was as much of you as he could have, then he'd take it. The cherry tang it left on his lips made it worth it, but he couldn't let himself to enjoy it for too long. The drink itself had been entirely too sweet, causing his nose to scrunch up, which immediately earned a giggle from across the table.

"Sweet, huh? I should've gone for a beer, but I figured you wouldn't mind sharing," you shrugged as you took another swing of it, handing it back afterwards.

Now his eyes landed on his own beer bottle, eyeing that same glimmer on the mouth of the bottle. Without thinking of it, he took an swing of it, dropping the bottle too harshly back on the table before looking back at you. There, his eyes couldn't help but finding your lips. He tried being subtle, but he seemed to be lacking that skill at the moment.

"Oh, is my lipstick smudged?," your hand went up to your mouth. You fished your purse for a compact mirror and a set of two tubes, smiling at him before beginning to reapply, "It's such a hassle. That's why I never wear darker lip products at work," you said mostly to yourself. Then, you turned to him, plumping your lips before smiling, "How's it look?"

There was absolutely no way you weren't hitting on him. Jihoon may have been an absolute idiot when it came to any social interaction, but he was sure you'd been hinting at something all night. Right?

This was the perfect moment for him to flirt back. To compliment you, to woo you and make his interest known. If any moment was tailored for such a thing, it was this one. Jihoon just needed to grow some balls for once and be assertive.

However, that is not what he did.

Instead of coming up with some charming one-liner, Jihoon instead stumbled over his words, delivering a mixture of 'uhm, yea!' and 'looks great!,' completely emotionless while also awkward.

Fortunately for Jihoon, all you did was giggle in return. It sometimes felt both demeaning and like a relief when you'd giggle in return to his awkwardness. He hoped to elicit different reactions out of you, but that fault fell completely on him.

You eyed the bar behind him, causing him to turn back. There was a small area that was supposed to make up a dancefloor. This wasn't exactly a club, but the dancing scene appeared pretty turned up. Jihoon could even spot his two friends on the dancefloor with some girls unknown to him.

When his head turned back to face you, you smiled at him, opening your mouth to speak. Jihoon could see where this was going.

"Hey, Jihoon. Wanna dance with me?"

You were grinning as you asked. That overexcitement that was usually present on your face was there once more. Disappointing you with a rejection was the very last thing Jihoon wanted to do. It was literally how he'd ended up out tonight.

But, still, his idiocy knew no limits, apparently.

"Oh, uh, I- I don't dance," he stammered, "Sorry."

He went back to nursing his drink, eyes avoiding yours and closing off from further questions. When he looked back up, he was mortified to find some dejection in your eyes.

He needed to salvage this. He was a good enough dancer. He had no idea why he'd even said no in the first place.

"I, uh, actually, I could-"

"Hey, beautiful. If he won't dance, I'll take you out for a spin. I'll give her back in a bit, Jihoon, don't worry."

Jihoon's abrupt interruption was, of course, delivered by Doyle. Why he had been close enough to make out your conversation, Jihoon had no idea. It irritated him, though. That was for damn sure.

Jihoon knew you wouldn't say yes to him. After the endless lunch breaks you'd spent together, you'd become privy to Doyle's treatment of Jihoon. And although you never once actually acted on the negative feelings that had inspired against Doyle, you had still expressed to Jihoon how much such things had dampened your view of him.

What Jihoon hadn't considered, though, had been the very frustrating concept of peer pressure making an appearance.

A few other coworkers at a nearby table started to instigate, encouraging you to go join Doyle. Claims that he was a great dancer and that you'd look good out there together were thrown around. Each comment made Jihoon sink more and more into his seat. At some point, one of the girls in your neighboring cubicles even walked over to you, grabbing your hand to further encourage you to accept Doyle's offer.

You appeared troubled. From Jihoon to Doyle to the girls, you looked back and forth, mouth opening and closing without an actual response leaving you. An uncomfortable smile was on your lips the entire time.

It was obvious to Jihoon you simply did not want to leave him to his own devices. You'd promised so, after all. So he decided to take you out of your misery.

Getting up, he cleared his throat, "Go ahead. I, uh, I'll just go hang out with Gyu and Soon. I kinda ditched them earlier."

He added a little white lie to really sell it. His friends wanted him to stay with you, but he didn't want to force you to not have fun. He had his chance, twice, and stupidly missed it.

"See? Jihoon's busy. This isn't really his scene anyway. C'mon," and so Doyle managed to pull you away.

As you walked away, you turned back to Jihoon, but he was faster. You mentioned going to find him after you were done, but Jihoon tuned it out. Walking away in order to get to his friends, he could hear a short exchange between a few comments made by some coworkers. They weren't anything new, but they still bothered him at this moment.

"They'd made such a cute couple, huh?"

"Yeah! I heard Y/N was head cheerleader in high school. Doyle used to be a quarterback. It's literally like fanfiction."

"Yeah. Jihoon, though ... I don't think that'd work. He's too fucking awkward."

"A bit of a weirdo too. She's out of his league."

And then he was out of earshot.

He found Soonyoung sitting by some table near the entrance quick enough, he thanked god for that. He needed to at least not be alone right now.

"Dude! What are you doing here? What happened to your girl?", Soonyoung was quick to question.

Jihoon shrugged, taking a seat dejectedly.

"Oh, shit, man. I'm sorry," Soonyoung caught on, patting Jihoon on the back, "What happened?"

Jihoon simply gestured north of him, directing Soonyoung's eyes to the dancefloor you were currently at. You'd quickly warmed up to the mood, a smile gracing your face as you danced along with a few of the girls from the office. The silver lining was that you weren't actually dancing with Doyle as originally intended, but rather dancing near him. Still, Jihoon could see Doyle occasionally make his way to you and try to subtly get you to dance with him.

"Fuck. It's that asshole Doyle, huh? I'm sorry, man."

"What happened?", Mingyu suddenly showed up, sweaty and out of breath.

"That dick Doyle took Hoonie's girl," this was met with a frown and an expletive from Mingyu.

"She's not my girl. She's not my anything," Jihoon grumbled, "I think I'll just go home."

Getting up, he was stopped by Mingyu, pleading he stay and have fun. Similar complaints were given by Soonyoung. But neither were enough for Jihoon to want to stay. He'd been an idiot and done nothing to even try and match your energy. It was no wonder you left at the first chance you had.

"I only came to hang out with her," Jihoon sighed sadly, "I'll just see you guys next weekend, okay? Have fun without me."

He hugged each goodbye, disregarding their pouts and heading out. He didn't bother looking back, not wanting to sadden himself even more.

"You're lying to me."

Both Mingyu and Soonyoung stared at Jihoon like puppies awaiting a treat. Their metaphorical tails were practically wagging. It was unnerving. Especially because of the subject at hand.

Jihoon had decided to take the Monday off. He'd decided to grovel over what happened. After what happened last night, he felt like a complete loser facing you at work. Like an idiot, he'd let his feelings get all muddled and made himself believe that maybe you had some interest in him. Only to immediately fuck things up and leave you alone with the guy who was his literal antithesis. Not only that, but he'd left you there without even saying goodbye despite having agreed to be there for the sole reason of being with you.

After four o'clock, Jihoon should've known that his two nosey friends would come find him. It was rare for Jihoon to miss work, so their sudden knocking a few hours after clocking out was predictable.

However, they'd been the ones to shock Jihoon. They had shit-eating grins when he'd let them in. They'd managed to sit through a quick lunch prepared by Jihoon before spilling what had them in such an annoying mood.

"Dude, she came looking for you after you left," had said Mingyu.

"She looked sad as fuck when we told her you left! Then today when you didn't show up to work, she-" then Soonyoung was interrupted by an overexcited Mingyu.

"She asked us for your address, dude! Came all the way to accounting all shy and shit and asked if we thought it'd be okay if you stopped by," Mingyu had finished.

Jihoon spent a few minutes in surprised silence after that. The belief that they were playing a prank on him was the most logical to him.

"Dude, we're not lying!," Soonyoung exclaimed, nudging Mingyu so he'd confirm his statement.

"Yeah, she said she'd stop by in a few hours. We had to clock out early to come warn you."

"You clocked out early cause you hate working," Jihoon rebutted."

"Okay, two things can be true at once."

"Anyways, she'll be here at any moment. So you should doll yourself up for her. I have no idea what she may want, but-"

Mingyu interrupted this time, "Are you kidding? They're gonna fuck. It's going to be a k-drama moment and then they'll seal the deal."

Soonyoung made an O face and gave Gyu a high-five. The children in front of Jihoon were beginning to drive him insane. And usually he would've scolded them, but their words were making him too anxious to think.

Suddenly, Jihoon got up, ushering them out.

"Okay, get the hell out of here. I need to be ready for her, fuck. Fuck. I should've just gone to work today, I'm such an idiot," he groaned to himself, beginning to pick up their plates so he could tidy up the place a bit.

"Dude, calm down. It'll be fine. Clearly she cares if she's coming to check up on you after just one day of you being gone," Soonyoung reasoned, "Whatever happened to a phone call anyway?"

"This is the romantic way to do it, Soon, c'mon."

Mingyu shrugged in agreement, now dragging Soonyoung along with him towards the exit. Their goodbyes were as prolonged as per usual, but Jihoon was eventually able to get them out of his apartment.

Jihoon rushed to make the place as tidy as possible, even fixing himself up as best as he could whilst also looking casual. The hardest hurdle was coming up with non-pathetic reasons as to why he'd left in such a rush last night and why he had skipped work altogether.

How was he supposed to explain that he was a sensitive, good for nothing, pathetic, loser piece of-

But there was a knock before he could even finish a single thought.

He knew who was on the other side, even if he tried to will you away by purely praying to get himself out of this situation.

"Jihoon? I know you're in there," you called out from outside, "I saw Mingyu and Soonyoung leave work early today. I assume they came over to warn you I'd be coming."

Fuck, you were too smart.

There were too many good things about you. And Jihoon would've loved nothing more than to take a few hours to think about all those things, but he had your actual presence to deal with at that moment.

With a deep breath, he walked over to the door, opening it and finding you standing on the other side of it. You were still wearing your usual office ensemble, meaning you'd come directly from work.

"Jihoon," you breathed out. There was a mixture of relief and worry in your tone.

"Uhm, come in," he moved aside to allow you in.

Naturally, the two of you moved over to the couch, rushing to the kitchen really quick to get you a drink — one he, of course, knew by memory from the months in which he'd known you.

"So, uh, what's up?", he cleared his throat.

"Jihoon," you put down the coffee cup he'd handed you, shifting your body on the couch to face him, "I'm really sorry about last night," you began, "I promised I'd stay with you and then I left when I really should've said no to Doyle and all the girls."

He wasn't fully facing you, but he could still perceive how apologetic you were. It made him feel like an asshole to be the cause of this. Why did he have to be so damn sensitive?

"It's not your fault, it's-"

You went to grab his hand from his lap, mirroring that first time you'd followed him outside back when you'd barely started working with him. Physical touch always made him anxious, but it was a good type of anxiety when it came to you.

"No, Jihoon, it is," you reaffirmed, hesitating to continue.

A sort of shy look overtook your face, drawing your eyes away from him for the first time since your arrival. You even let go of his hand, acting as if you'd been shocked you even took it in the first place. A small 'sorry' left your lips before you continued speaking.

"And I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night with all my, uh, flirting," you swallowed, "I know you don't see me that way. I guess it was just the whole, uh, vibe? that made me feel like it was okay, but I won't do it again, I promise. I want to respect your boundaries. I didn't think you'd end up skipping out of work because of me. Fuck, I feel like a terrible friend."

Jihoon could do nothing but watch in horror as you spoke.

Every word that left your lips was more wrong than the previous. You'd misunderstood everything. But then again, Jihoon had not communicated his interest at all. You had no way of knowing that he liked you or that he'd been hoping against all hope that he hadn't misinterpreted your advances.

There was one last chance presenting itself in front of Jihoon. This was his last and only chance to set things straight. To grow some balls and risk it when he told you that he reciprocated any feelings you may have had for him — and tenfold.

But he stayed quiet, gulping when you sat there with an equally horrified look on your face. It was likely due to his silence, yet his body was still frozen.

"Uhm, Jihoon, I- I don't know what else to say. I'm sorry, I-"

"Will you go out with me?"

It had been said so suddenly that Jihoon didn't even register he'd been the one to say it. He hadn't planned to say that, especially so suddenly. It was as much a shock go him as it must've been to you. Surely his face matched yours, which consisted of wide eyes and an agape mouth. The shock was entirely mutual.

"What?"

Jihoon flushed, gulping and looking at his lap. His heart was practically beating out of his chest. This was the most daring thing he'd done in years, and its effects were manifesting physically. Sweaty palms, rumbling stomach, eyes burning, he had it all.

But at least it was out there now.

"I, uhm, I wanted to know if you'd want to go out with me?," he tried again, pathetically adding a quiet 'please' afterwards.

"Jihoon, what? You like me?"

The way you asked made it sound like it was the most shocking thing you'd heard in your life. That in itself made his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

He decided to start from the beginning. And this time he was the one to grab your hand.

"I was okay with everything you did or said last night. Trust me. I was just a coward. I was especially a coward when you asked me to dance. I wanted to say yes- I should've said yes. But instead, I let that idiot take you and- and when I saw you having fun, with- with him, I just left like an idiot. I'm sorry I left just like that. It wasn't you. It was me, I swear," he rambled on a single breath, "I do, uhm, I do like you. A lot. An embarrassing amount, really," he chuckled to himself, "And if you'd still be willing, I'd, uh, I'd really like to take you out on a date."

Eye contact had never been Jihoon's forte, and much less in an instance such as this. His eyes remained on his lap, altogether avoiding even daring look in your general direction. But eventually came the time in which he had to look your way to try and gauge your reaction.

Looking up at you, he believed to see horror in your eyes. The very last thing he could've ever wanted to provoke in you.

This was it. This was yet another rejection. Another humiliation leading up to social ruin. His one and only friend in his department would seize to want any sort of relationship with him and it was all because he misread a situation yet again and acted like a socially inept idiot.

"I, I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"I didn't know you liked me," you interrupted.

"Huh?"

"God, Jihoon, I had no idea you liked me back, what? This is crazy. I thought I fucked everything up," you let out a humorless chuckle.

"What?"

Now he was confused. Now he was the one with horror in his eyes.

'Back'?

"Sorry," you chuckled, scooting closer to him, "I like you. I assumed it was obvious and that you were just having a hard time letting me down easy," and with that, you blew his mind.

Jihoon sat there, mouth agape and eyebrows scrunched together in absolute shock. Things could not have turned more different than he'd ever imagined.

Yet he still felt like he was being played. Such things had happened in his past. Fake confessions, tricks of the mind, you name it. As much as Jihoon liked you, his past experiences screamed deep within him to back away, to not fall for it.

And then you grabbed his hand again, scooting even closer. There was a look of understanding in your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you began, "I'm not lying Jihoon, I really do like you."

Before he could ask what you meant, you continued.

"I, uhm, talked to Mingyu yesterday — I asked him not to mention it to you. He told me some stuff about your childhood," you paused, waiting for the solemn nod he gave you to continue. He tensed, leading you to squeeze his hand, "I know there's been some stuff in your past. We didn't get into details, but I promise I'm being genuine. I like you. And if you really do like me back, I'd love to go on that date with you."

Jihoon hadn't processed your proximity until this moment. He'd been too focused on the possibility of this being another ruse, another way to break him down just because of his social ineptitude. But now that his brain was working again, it immediately malfunctioned once more as he realized what was happening.

Not only had you admitted your own feelings and accepted his invitation, but you were far too close for anything other than a kiss to occur. If your proximity didn't give it away, your eyes did. Zeroed in on his lips, they occasionally made their way back to his eyes as if asking for silent permission.

And for once in his life, Jihoon was daring. Jihoon took the first step without fear of fucking things up.

As pathetic as it'd be to admit out loud, the very first touch of your lips was life-changing for Jihoon. There'd been one or two kisses in his life, all filled with instant embarrassment or simply being nothing to write home about.

Yet this kiss was devastating. It was a testament to everything he'd ever fantasized about yet convinced himself he'd never have. It was soft and barely there at first, but the quiet sound you let against his lips was all he needed to lose his mind.

Before he could pull away, shy, bashful, you pulled him back in, opening your lips and welcoming him to do the same.

Your tongues met in the middle before Jihoon completely surrendered to you. He didn't even try to put up a fight. It was unnecessary. All he wanted was your kiss, to fall victim to anything you wanted to take and give him.

A shaky breath was let out into your lips. It felt as if his body was vibrating. The immense nerves he usually felt in social situations and all their physical symptoms were present, but it was all too different than usual. They were accompanied by a burning in his stomach.

Jihoon knew this to be arousal. Frankly, it was a pathetic realization — to feel such things with a simple kiss. But it wasn't any kiss. It was you. It was your tongue in his mouth, your hands making their way to his hair, your soft sounds muffled with his own.

"N-no, not yet. Please," he found himself pleading when you pulled away to breathe.

And he almost cried when you moaned at his pleading before trapping him in another kiss, just as heavy as the last.

Jihoon was in over his head. He could barely follow along. Could barely please you with his own lips. He was defeated by you, too high on lust to be a worthy opponent. And god, he couldn't even let himself begin to think about what was going on in his pants at that moment.

"Jihoon," you breathed.

You'd learned your lesson from last time, it seemed. Instead of attempting to pull away, you licked at his lips, keeping a nonexistent distance between you.

"What do you want?", you asked, "What do you want from me? I'll give you anything you ask for."

His mind couldn't wrap itself around that statement. He wanted everything. His body was burning and his mind was reeling. Never in his life had he come close to feeling like this.

It had been many years since he'd settled for his life. No more hopes or dreams for love, for anything grander out of life. The concept of physical touch or any sort of pleasure had left the picture quickly into college. All he'd ever known had been senseless fantasies of what could be but would never be.

Yet now he sat here, prettiest girl he'd ever seen looking into his eyes — eyes heavy with lust that made him have to use all his strength to not cry and moan and whine at the effect he seemingly had on you. Did you like stupid losers with nothing to offer? Because he was the perfect candidate.

And his eyes dropped to your lips again, almost as if there was some sort of pull towards you that he could not control. Even while knowing all other forms of pleasure he could beg for, he needed to kiss you again.

"Nghn, I- Kiss, I wanna kiss you. Please? I wanna-"

His begging didn't last long, soon interrupted by something he could barely call a kiss. It was wet and messy, teeth clanking and tongues suckling at each other. Sounds of pleasure shamelessly left both your lips and your bodies got closer to one another.

The next thing to blow his mind was your body, which soon made its way to straddle his own. From this angle, you were slightly above him, now ensuring you had all the control — though that was met with no complaints from him.

His usually shy hands were forced onto your hips by your own before yours went back to running through his hair. They were liberal, your hands, in exploring him. When your lips trailed down to his neck, exploring and quickly finding his weakest spots, your hands went to his shirt, reaching under it and exploring the bare skin underneath.

"I want you, Jihoon. Do you want me too?," you whispered into his ear, teeth softly pulling at the lobe.

Jihoon couldn't think, couldn't breathe. His mind was a chorus of yesyesyes, too broken to actually respond.

"Want you, p-please. Anything ... You can do anything, just-"

Everything cut off then. Your touch, your lips on his skin, your weight on his lap.

But it was replaced by you pulling him towards the door leading into his bedroom, quickly assessing the room before pushing him onto the bed.

He was pliable under your touch. He'd be a boneless doll if necessary. Anything you wanted was yours — Jihoon was yours.

The empty weight of his lap only lasted a few seconds before you filled it back up, hands once again finding his shoulders. He felt shy under your gaze, especially knowing you could probably feel the hardness beneath you.

"I've never ... I know it's probably obvious, but I, uhm ..."

"That's okay, Jihoonie," your hand went to his cheek, soft in caressing it, "We don't have to do anyth-"

"No!", he suddenly interrupted. He became bashful when he realized how sudden and loud he'd been, "I mean, uhm, I want to. I really want to. Please."

You sighed, "So polite, Jihoonie. Bet you're going to be so good to me, aren't you?", you said almost to yourself.

Jihoon swore his dick twitched at your words. There was nothing in this world he wanted more than to be good for you. He needed you to tell him how nice and how good he was. Nothing would ever compare to being the giver of your pleasure.

He nodded numbly, mouth agape as you leaned down.

But instead of kissing him as he'd expected, the hand on his cheek shifted. Your thumb graced at his bottom lip as you watched intently. Jihoon's body reacted on its own. He needed no direction to open his mouth the tiny bit necessary to let your thumb in, suckling softly without needles any further direction from you.

This caused you to groan, which in turn made him moan. He'd never been one to have any sort of creative fantasies. Any time he allowed himself to think about sex, it was all pretty cut and dry, usually involving some faceless girl that he knew would never manifest herself into real life.

But now he had a girl — a girl he was completely infatuated by. And she had her thumb in his mouth, looking at him like he was the manifestation of her lust.

Jihoon didn't know what to do with you. You were too much for him to deal with, too much for him to function properly. He'd never imagined himself having to will himself into not cumming due to a pretty girl's thumb in his mouth, but in this moment there was nowhere else he would've preferred be.

And then you pulled your thumb away, earning yourself an embarrassing whine from him. He almost had it in him to complain, to whine and ask for you to give it back. He wanted to provide, to give you something back. But instead, you kissed him again, this time using your hands to unclothe him in the midst of the messy kiss.

Somehow he ended up shirtless, with his pants removed and sitting there with mere boxers while you sat atop him, still fully clothed. Yet he didn't have it in him to complain. If this day was full of you doing whatever you desired with his body, allowing him not a single touch of yours, he'd take it. He'd be willing to take anything you gave him. He'd beg if necessary.

"God, you're gorgeous. How do you not have a line waiting to get their turn with you?", there was a hint of frustration in your voice. It was as if the sight made you angry, like it made you so frustrated you couldn't hold back. Cuteness aggression but replaced with lust. Jihoon couldn't comprehend having such an effect on someone, much less you.

"I, uhm, I don't-"

He had no idea how to respond to your praise. But thankfully, you didn't give him enough time to muster out some pathetic response, instead opting to kiss him again, hands feeling up every available inch of skin.

You pushed him up on the bed, silently encouraging him to scoot up so he could lay down with your body still straddling his own. This felt more intimate. Jihoon knew where it was leading, he'd imagined being in this position once or twice, but never pictured it'd be anything like this.

"Is this okay?", you asked once your hands went to his chest, softly tracing shapes in it in a way Jihoon wasn't sure was supposed to be teasing or if he was just so touch-starved that it felt euphoric to him.

"Yeah, I, oh, fuck, yes, just ..."

He found his answer when your hands went to his nipples, circling them softly before pinching and pulling at them with your fingers, shutting him up before he could even make out a single sentence. It only became worse when you lowered your head, mouth meeting one nipple while the other remained engaged by your hand.

Sensitivity on his chest was not something he was aware of. There were likely countless things he was into but had never managed to explore. But Jihoon decided in that moment that what he was into was you. Every touch, every kiss, every look, every word. He held onto every single one and sighed into them, losing himself in the process and- fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

Any further exploration of his mind halted at that moment. The moment in which your hips joined in on the fun. They ground against his own shyly at first, testing the waters. His hands gripped at your hips helplessly, almost as if attempting to hold onto his remaining sanity.

The worst part was when you reacted to it. Enjoying the feeling that first rock of your hips gave you, you continued, whining into his mouth as your hips sped up. Your hands gripped at his shoulders, though they occasionally felt up at his arms and chest, clawing at the muscle there and ensuring to leave your mark.

Jihoon was on fire. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. All he could do was pathetically whine into your lips, silently begging for you to never stop, for you to make him forget himself.

"Please, oh fuck, pl-please don't stop. It's so- good, oh ..."

"God, keep talking like that," you groaned.

Fuck. Of course you liked him pathetic and whiny. Of course you were turned on by it. It created a never ending cycle of you doing whatever you wanted to him and him crying like a needy loser, only causing you to double down. It was heaven and hell. Jihoon's body was in overdrive.

"You're gonna make me cum, you- fuck, don't stop, I need- shit, please."

His voice was unrecognizable now. Jihoon didn't know which dimension he was in anymore.

Until it all halted.

Your movements ended, and the weight on his crotch left him. A pathetic whine came from his lips at this, but he was too needy to feel embarrassed.

Before he could get up and kneel, begging at your feet to continue (something which he'd truly do if he wasn't to embarrassed by the thought), you made your way back to him, though this time Jihoon felt an unexpected warmth on him. A warmth accompanied by sticky wetness. It took Jihoon a few seconds to realize what was sitting on him, but when it dawned on him, it destroyed him.

Daring to open his eyes and look up at you, he found you flushed. Your face looked warm and your expression was far too lustful for him to handle. What caught his attention the most, though, was your sudden nudity. His brain could not process it, the sight of you in complete nudity, sitting on his cock with a single layer of his damned boxers intervening.

The sight went beyond his imagination. Goosebumps formed on every inch of his skin, and even his hardness twitched under you in a manner so pathetic it shocked even himself. The image above him would haunt him for the rest of his life, especially as he laid there unknowing of what to do with himself, of how to respond to such a sight.

And then you responded for him.

You grasped his hands, taking them away from your hips and bringing them up to your chest. Naturally, they engulfed your breasts, a groan leaving his lips at their weight in his palms.

"Like this, baby. Just touch me however you want," you encouraged with a breathy sigh.

"You're so pretty, fuck," he groaned again.

It caused you to giggle, biting your lip when his hands began to fondle you, playing with your nipples in the way you'd played with his earlier.

Your hips began moving again, though this time it was hotter, more desperate. You became frustrated with the friction quickly enough, digging into his boxers and pulling him out. Jihoon cried out at this, eyes rolling back at your hold.

After a few experimental tugs at his dick, you let go, letting it fall back against his stomach and taking a seat on it. Not putting him in yet, you began sliding against the length of it, letting your warm wetness grind against it in a manner so filthy it had Jihoon's head throwing back into the mattress.

"God, I wanna fuck you so bad," you groaned, "You'll feel so good, I already know it."

It was like you wanted to kill him. But Jihoon knew it was the mindless lust speaking. Which only made it all the worse for him. His incidental effect on you drove him crazy.

"Please, I- I want it," he cried.

But you decided to kill him some more.

"How bad?", you whispered into his ear, movements not halting.

If you wanted him to beg, to become a pathetic whiny mess as he pleaded for a single touch, he would. He had no pride when it came to you.

"So bad, you ... you don't understand. I need it. I need to feel it so badly."

But god, you were so mean. So terribly mean and wicked to him. Simple begging would not do, Jihoon realized. You wanted more.

"Need to feel what?", your hips sped up, the friction half-killing Jihoon.

"Your ... your, fuck," he gulped, "Your pussy. Please."

You moaned and then giggled, separating your cunt from his dick in order to create some distance. Sneaking between your bodies, your hand grabbed onto his hardness, sitting yourself up on your knees so you could align him to your cunt.

His tip was at your cunt, forced to circle at it by your hand as you teased both yourself and him. The warmth begging to wrap around his head made him delirious. Nothing had ever felt as good. There was no comparable experience.

"N-no condom?", he willed himself to ask.

"I'm on birth control. So if it's okay with you ...", you trailed off, chuckling when he nodded desperately at you.

You continued to tease yourself with his dick, gasping at the feeling of his tip against your clit as he twitched in your hand. The teasing was killing him, though it was too pleasurable for him to beg for anything else.

"God, Jihoon, I can already tell you're gonna feel so good, baby," you practically whined, "I'm gonna fuck you so good, angel. Just you wait."

And then your welcomed him in. In a slow descent, you lowered yourself on him, crying out his name once he was finally bottomed out.

Under you, Jihoon lost his soul. It was too warm, too wet, too perfect for him to react. His brain clocked out for the day, leaving him a hollow body meant for nothing but receiving pleasure. That orgasmic feeling of, well, an orgasm, was approaching far too quickly. Jihoon could feel his body contract on itself, insisting at him to let go, to give himself up to you.

But he persisted. The sight above him — the pretty girl with her eyes rolled back and her arched back causing her to press up impossibly close against him — had his body begging for just a few more moments to enjoy the endless pleasure you were currently giving him.

"'m gonna move now, okay, baby? Feel so good already, shit. So full," you sighed.

Your hands settled on his chest, palms pressed against it as you began to bounce. Sometimes you'd bounce, sometimes you'd grind. It was all too deliriously good for Jihoon to realize the exact science behind it.

If everything that came before had led him to this moment, he'd happily go through it all again. Nothing in his life could compare to this, to the intimacy, the closeness he felt to you at this moment. He had to do nothing but cry tears of pleasure under you, taking every bounce, ever rock of your hips, every kiss and every word of praise in his direction. If he had to go back to the lonely, hellish life he lived before just in exchange for this very moment, he'd beg for the chance.

But Jihoon didn't need to be as fatalist anymore. Not when you kept whining his name, when your eyes were crossed and your breasts were bouncing above him in a demonstration of your incessant need for him.

"Baby, give ... give me your hand," you suddenly moaned. Your hips sped up, clearly driving yourself to your orgasm and surely dragging him along with you.

He followed your instruction, just as his brain had been programed. He gave you his hand, groaning when you placed it at your cunt, silently instructing for his knuckle to bend and dig at your clit. You tightened impossibly harder at that and fuck, it was too good. It was too tight, too wet, too filthy as your moans heightened in pitch.

And Jihoon truly wanted to warn you. He wanted to tell you and come right alongside you, but his poor virginal body could only take so much before breaking. It was an impossible task to hold back and await for your own pleasure to join his. But god was it mind-blowing.

He'd orgasmed before. Alone, cold in his room, feeling pathetic due to his lack of possibility at romance, knowing he'd never find a girl to look at him with anything but apathy. Yet here you were, whispering filthy words into his ear, encouraging his orgasm with a hint of mischief in your tone as your orgasm interrupted your words.

You were evil, Jihoon realized.

Above him, you made a show of your high, providing him with a view that would surely ruin him for life. Your hands let go of his body, instead choosing to fondle with your own, putting aside your own orgasmic experience to instead destroy any last bit of sanity left in him (which truly was not much — likely in the negatives by now). Your face was one that Jihoon would tattoo in his memory, bringing back up again and again in order to finish himself off in the many lonely nights to come — he couldn't help his fatalistic way of believing this might be a one and only type of situation.

It felt endless, so endless that the pleasure was almost painful. But Jihoon could still categorically asses this as one of the best experiences of his long years on this earth.

The low after the high was still blissful. Jihoon had heard of 'post-nut' clarity, with it being sold as a negative after such a high. Yet Jihoon felt nothing but bliss as you disconnected from him and dropped to lay at his side, wordless as you intertwined your bodies and stole body heat from him (which, really, he was more than happy to give).

Jihoon was unsure of what to say, but the smile you gave him said enough for the two of you. It was a silent exchange of affection that Jihoon never thought he'd be on the receiving end of.

"Maybe skipping work today was a good idea," you joked after some silence.

His eyebrows lifted. Understatement of the year.

You laughed and nuzzled further. He must've said it out loud. Well, the effect was nice, so he had no complaints.

"We're going to have to visit HR first thing tomorrow morning," you groaned into his chest, seemingly unable to help yourself in pressing kisses there. Jihoon felt too loved.

"Hmm?"

But he was still half-dead.

"I'll wanna jump you as soon as I see you tomorrow morning. I won't be able to be discreet," you joked.

"You wanna, uhm, be official?", he risked in asking.

He wanted to slap himself. You'd given no indication of changing your mind about him. This fatalism was something he really needed to work on.

"Yes, you idiot. God, Jihoon. We're going to have to work on this," you agreed without realizing.

It was quiet after that. It was the same quiet Jihoon had grown used to in his solitary life, except it had morphed into a silence he could see himself becoming fond of. Your breath against his chest was all he could hear, and it was the one and only sound he desired from now on.

The following morning, you awoke before him, loving on him without question, wordlessly showing him how easy it was for you to want him, to love him. It was new, but for once, it didn't scare Jihoon. For once, he could see himself giving into something good without fear.

to read short 2.3k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: office romance, semi-public sex, afab reader, smut, oral (m receiving), etc.

wc: 202 (teaser); 2340 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Hmm, we have to, hmph-"

That was as far as Jihoon had been able to get all morning before yet another rude interruption from you.

Well, calling it rude would be going too far.

In reality, Jihoon was very welcoming of every single interruption. Especially since each one consisted of your lips on his, with the occasional involving your tongue down his throat.

You'd woken up early, awakening him with soft caresses and kisses to his bare chest. It was a first for him. Everything was a first, really.

He'd been defiled for the first time last night, having the girl of his dreams suddenly showing up to his apartment to fix up a miscommunication (entirely caused by him) and turning his world upside down by confessing to a crush he'd believed completely unlikely.

The details made Jihoon too flustered to really think about, but at least he'd allow himself to enjoy the aftermath of it all.

But sadly, he had to try and interrupt you again. It was nearing the time to go to work, and as happy as he was with you, he knew things at work would likely have to change due to the sudden development of your relationship.

...

find the continuation on patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[rinffection]

♡ Sickeningly Sweet!

How blue lock boys show you how sweet they are to their girlfriend!

featuring! Isagi Yoichi, Meguru Bachira, Itoshi Rin, Seishiro Nagi & Chigiri Hyoma.

a/n : hellloooooo :3 back with some blue lock head canons, ahhhhh!!!!!! Anyways I’m writing this as I watch the shining so plz spare with me.

notes : mxf, afab!reader, sfw headcanons, NOT PROOFREAD

ISAGI YOICHI!

definitely compliments you on dates! — whether your outfit or face :3

when he sees something that reminds him of you, he buys it for you immediately!

after scoring a goal, his eyes immediately go to find yours. When he does, he gives you a big puppy smile.

adding to above, he would text you instantly after the game, asking if he did well today or if you saw that goal he shot!

late night calls after a whole day of soccer training! He actually sleeps better after hearing your voice.

he always holds your hands when you guys walk together.

sends you a bunch of lovey dovey TikTok’s, when he has time, of course.

whenever he gets jealous, it’s always in a cute way. he wouldn’t start a fight but instead he would hug you a little tighter after the guy is gone.

loves to make those cheesy couple TikTok’s with you! He actually enjoys it a lot.

MEGURU BACHIRA!

THE MOST PLAYFUL PUPPY EVER!! He will literally cuddle with you every chance he gets.

okay but his love language is just physical touch. He loves hugging or giving you kisses all over your face!

he likes drawing little doodles of you and him on his notebooks whenever he’s not paying attention in class.

likes to send you voice messages during evening’s all about his day, and loves when you send back too :3

since he’s always playing soccer by himself, he likes to drag you with him so he can teach you to play as well!

adding to above, he would pat you on the head with his golden smile whenever you do something correctly.

likes to have sleepovers with you! (mostly so he can cuddle with you when he goes to sleep)

whenever your frustrated over something, he lets you rant to him like he’s your bestie.

he will lay down with his head in your lap while he yaps to you.

doesn’t mind doing your girly stuff with him. As long as you have your pretty smile on your face, he’s happy!

ITOSHI RIN!

like a lot of people say, he doesn’t like showing PDA, but when it’s just the two of you in a room, he’ll immediately become a clingy puppy.

you might think he’s nonchalant, but he actually remembers every little thing about you! Whether it’s a habit you have or your favourite snack.

he buys you things without telling. Like if you were eyeing a necklace or a snack, he would buy it for you :3 (even if you don’t say anything)

regularly checks up with you via texts!! He’ll message you good night and good morning texts, and sometimes ask ‘did you eat?’ or ‘it’s getting late, you should go to sleep’.

he likes to keep things that remind you of him in his room — whether it’s a present, card, a trinket from the date you guys recently went or even photos of you two! He acts like he doesn’t care, but he actually does….

Rin always waits for you! after class, training, for a date or after a game, he would wait for you so you can walk with him! (He wants to make sure you’re safe when you walk home and that no guys hit on you.. lol.)

rants to you about sae and the ‘annoying’ teammates he has to deal with because he trusts you! While you guys cuddle on the couch or bed, of course.

DEFINITELY lovesssss giving you forehead kisses! He thinks it’s cute how you’re shorter than him.

cares for you. And when I mean he cares for you, I mean he would give an icy glare to whoever’s making you feel sad. (and sometimes it wouldn’t be just a glare….)

gives you his jacket or hoodie when you’re cold. It’s a quiet gesture, but he doesn’t need you shivering or catching a cold, and sometimes, he lets you keep it. It smells like him anyways!

watches your favourite shows or movies with you! He might grumble about how ‘this is so boring,’ but he actually secretly enjoys spending time with you— even if he had to watch your girly stuff with you.

SEISHIRO NAGI!

pulls you into naps with him! He loves sleeping, but he also loves you.. so why not both together?

lets you play with his hair. he probably doesn’t like it when others do it, but when it’s you, go wild.

always has your hair tie on his wrist. You don’t go a day without seeing it on his arm. (or maybe he’s just too lazy to take it off)

loses video games just for you to win. And when you ask about why he seems to be lacking, he’ll reply with ‘dunno, I guess I was distracted by you’.

lazy pecks on the lips. Sometimes it’s to shut you up while he’s gaming or sleeping— but he likes seeing you blush after anyways.

his go-to dates are definitely sleepovers, just so he can cuddle with you while watching a movie or something. (also, it’s because he’s too lazy to go out, lol.)

asks you to feed him because apparently, eating is too much of a hassle.

teaches you how to play a video game he likes — just so you can play with him!

makes you wear his hoodies, and sometimes, he even lets you ‘borrow’ it! He actually likes seeing you in his clothes, especially when it’s a bit too big for you.

shows you off. Like when someone asks him about his packed bento that you made for him, he’ll nonchalantly say ‘my girlfriend made it for me.’

CHIGIRI HYOMA!

LETS YOU BRAID HIS HAIR!!! Since he has long hair, he lets you style it however you want. (even if it ends up looking like a funny mess)

he’ll tie or braid your hair for you. Since he has long hair, he basically knows how to tie and braid hair like the back of his hand.

hear me out…. he discusses hair products with you. Sometimes even lets you share his favourite hair mask!!

buys you your favourite flowers every time you guys have a date together. It’s a way of showing how much he cares.

matching always. When you get him something matching, like a bracelet or necklace, he insists on keeping it on every day.

he’s probably the person who takes you out on the BEST dates. Like this guy lives for aesthetics. Just imagine him taking you out to watch the sunset, canoeing down a pretty river or finding amazing small cafe’s to try out with you!

soft/hard launches you on Instagram. He posts you on his story, and always takes photos of the both of you going on dates to post onto his page!

he takes the best pictures of you, lol. You don’t even need to train him into taking good photos for your Instagram, he’s just naturally good at it. Usually after he takes the pictures, he’ll compliment you and say ‘it was all because of how pretty you are’.

writes short poems or notes for you. It’s one way of showing his love— through words!

celebrates every holiday with you. Whether it’s Christmas, Valentine’s Day, or Halloween, he goes out his way to celebrate it the best with you!

after notes! : Hai again everyone.. :3 I think you can probably tell who’s my favourite in here…. lol…. But anyways, lmk if you guys want any fics on these headcanons! :p

[k1mbe3rly]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO AN NSFW ALPHABET FOR THE SALESMAN PRETTY PLEASE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP IM BEGGING ‼️ 😭💕🙏🧎‍♀️‍➡️

The Salesman NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he probably doesn’t do much, maybe he’ll clean you up but after that he’s fixing himself up mainly because he has to go and get people to join the games

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part about you is your shoulder , he bites into it and sometimes leaves small cuts

His favorite body part about himself is his fingers, especially since he uses a gun and very skilled with his hands, he also loves to finger you

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This man would make you filled with his cum, dirty you everywhere, face, mouth, tits, stomach, and on your pussy lips, seeing you a mess is amazing to him and maybe he snaps a photo of you

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

His dirty secret is wanting to fuck you with his gun

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I would say he’s not a virgin but he doesn’t have sex often, because of his job he’s focused on that more than sex

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary. All the way, the way you’re tits bounces, your face, just everything

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not once he is goofy and never would be

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s groomed, if he can shave his beard than he definitely shaves down there

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very hardcore serious, you’ll see him so into it that his eyes go dead

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Not at all

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Gun play, Knife play, slight pain kink, degrading, praising and hair pulling

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

UMM THE BED? or anythjng private

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Dirty talking and revealing clothes

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Carry a loaded gun to you when having sex

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he’s a giver for sure. He does like when you give him head but most of the time he loves devouring your list and rubbing your clit with the handle of his knife or his gun

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s fast and rough mostly, he just loves the way his cock goes in and out fast and the way you squirm

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

not really, he likes to take his time espically since he’s a big fan of teasing

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’ll take risk but not often

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can last many rounds, he’s endless

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

no toys

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

very into teasing, he likes to edge you a bit before he shoves his cock into you

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He growls and groans

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sometimes he likes to act like he’s forcing you to suck him off just to place a gun to your head as you suck on his cock, obviously it’s not loaded

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

7 inches straight, a bit thick

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

not high, but maybe once he met you it goes to like medium high

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t really sleep after, he’s just sweaty and likes to keep himself professional

[kiwriteswords]

My Funny Valentine [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: 1.9k|| AN: I have been binge-re-watching The Nanny for the first time since I was a teenager and got to the episode where Fran buys a billboard for Mr. Sheffield after thinking he was her secret admirer. I had to do this for Hotch and Reader!

Tags/Warnings: female reader, BAU reader, will they won't they relationship, Valentine's Day, mentions of Haley, mentions of a creepy police officer, based off an episode of The Nanny, fools in love.

Summary: Given your undeniable chemistry and attraction for one another, when an unsigned card with flowers and a teddy bear shows up on your desk, you assume it's from Hotch. After making a grand gesture for what you thought was in return, you both soon realize the truth.

Ever since you joined the BAU, your interactions with Hotch have been a mixture of professional respect and undeniable chemistry. Over the years, the flirty banter had evolved into a dance of “will they, won't they,” much to the entertainment--and sometimes frustration--of the team. 

Everyone could see the mutual attraction except, it seemed, the two of you.

Being Hotch's subordinate, you treaded carefully, harboring feelings you dared not confess, always secretly hoping he'd be the one to break the professional boundary.

You were younger--not inappropriately so (maybe just a little)...well, enough to make you question if this chemistry was all in your head. Enough questioning to allow these feelings to remain at a standstill--or at least until he broke first. 

This Valentine's Day seemed like any other day at the BAU, but when you arrived at your desk, you found a bouquet of pink carnations and a teddy bear holding a card. Your heart skipped a beat as you read the flirty message. 

"To the one who captures my thoughts as easily as she profiles unsubs. Happy Valentine's Day."

You couldn't help but think it was from Hotch. Carnations and a teddy bear? Not what you would have imagined Hotch picking out, but nonetheless, thoughtful. Unexpected. Thrilling. 

He was finally crossing that line drawn in the sand. The one you blurred and blurred but ultimately never swept away. 

Excitement bubbling up inside you, you rushed to share the news with Penelope Garcia, your go-to confidante for all things romantic and dramatic. The one who had been arguably rooting for you and Hotch more than anyone. 

Maybe it was the hopeless romantic in her, or maybe…just maybe, the proof was there in plain daylight with the way you and Hotch played your games with one another. Like a tennis match of back and forth--over and over. 

“My gosh,” Penelope squealed, looking at the card, “I mean…I can’t believe it. What are you going to do? What are you going to say!?” She leaned forward, capturing your arm, almost to steady her own excitement. 

“I want to do something for him…something nobody’s ever done for him before.” You thought carefully. 

Many would argue that you were…of the dramatic kind. Maybe that’s why you and Penelope got along so easily. Hotch would argue that you were dramatic the most. You often used it to your own advantage with him. 

You knew--although you’d both never admit it--you had Hotch wrapped around your finger so it was easy to use those puppy dog eyes when you didn’t feel like completing a case assignment or if you wanted the bigger room at the hotel. 

“You know,” Penelope pondered, “Now that I think of it,” She scrunched her face, “All of these years here, I’m not sure anyone’s ever left Hotch a Valentine. I mean…I gave him a pink fostered sugar cookie once, but even Haley…I don’t think there was anything here for him.” 

You smirked, raising an eyebrow, “He doesn’t seem like the type that’s going to like a velvet heart-shaped box filled with fruit-filled chocolates.” 

“That man is a closet sweet eater,” Penelope pointed at you, “But to your point, you’ve gotta do something…something grand. Something that will knock his argyle socks off.” 

You snorted, then really thought. Grand. Grand? What would be grand? Then it came to you. 

“I have the best idea.” 

The two of you giggled and brainstormed extravagant ideas to win Hotch's heart, finally settling on a grand gesture that no one could ignore--a billboard confession. You found the idea so wildly romantic, the perfect way to tell Hotch how you felt.

With Penelope's enthusiastic encouragement, you commissioned a billboard on Hotch's route home.

“Be My Valentine, Aaron Hotchner! Love your Y/N” 

However, as you prepared to leave work that evening, you received a call from the local police department asking if you enjoyed the flowers. Your stomach dropped as you recognized the voice--it was the overly friendly officer from your last case, the one Hotch had given a look to the entire time. 

The cheesy teddy bear. The cheap carnations. The corny card. None of that would be Hotch. You wanted to die. Crawl into a ball and die of embarrassment and stupidity, but not until after you got rid of that billboard!

Frantic, you rushed to find Rossi, Derek, and Spencer, blurting out your predicament and the mistake you’d made. They erupted into laughter but saw the urgency of the situation.

"We’ve got to get that billboard down before Hotch drives home!" you exclaimed, your face burning with embarrassment. You paced around the bullpen, looking up to Hotch’s office, then to them, then back up. You ran your hand over your face, stressed. 

Rossi, Spencer, and Derek gathered around you, each wearing an expression that meant business. Derek leaned against his car, arms crossed. "You know, you could just leave that billboard up. It's about time one of you made a move."

Rossi nodded, his wise eyes fixed on you. "We're all tired of the dance, kid. It's not just you suffering from all this uncertainty--Hotch is right there with you. You both need to take that leap."

Spencer chimed in, "Statistically, the likelihood of mutual feelings being reciprocated in situations like these is quite high. You might be pleasantly surprised."

You appreciated their support, but the thought of Hotch seeing the billboard without understanding the context terrified you. You grabbed your car keys and headed to the nearest hardware store. "I just need to fix this before it gets worse," you muttered more to yourself than to them.

At the hardware store, you picked up a bucket of paint and a roller, your hands trembling slightly at the thought of climbing up the billboard. Heights had never been your friend, but today, they seemed a lesser evil compared to the embarrassment of Hotch reading your unintended public declaration.

With the sun setting, you parked your car by the billboard and stared up at the looming structure. Steeling your nerves, you looked up toward the tall ladder that led to a ledge where the freshly painted billboard sat. You wished the service you paid earlier was available after hours to come and take down the work they had done so quickly. 

Each step up made your heart pound louder, but the fear of making a fool of yourself pushed you onward.

Once you reached the top, you positioned yourself to start painting, but a sudden wave of vertigo hit as you peered down. The can of paint slipped from your grip, tumbling down and splattering the ground below with white paint.

You looked up to the sky and raised your hands with defeat and tears forming in your eyes, “Is this some sick joke?!”

Climbing down was even harder, with your hands shaking and tears of frustration starting to blur your vision. Just as you reached the last few rungs, a pair of steady hands gently guided you down. You almost jumped out of your skin, only to turn and see Hotch, his face filled with concern.

"Hey, it's okay," he soothed, keeping his hands on your shoulders to steady you.

You took a deep breath, wiping away a stray tear, turning as you took your last step off the ladder. He steadied you on the last few steps down, his touch reassuring.

"I'm so sorry, Hotch. There’s been a huge misunderstanding," you began, your voice a mix of embarrassment and relief. "I thought those flowers and the teddy bear were from you, and Penelope and I--we…I just got carried away."

Hotch gave you a small, understanding smile. "Emily and JJ told me there was a surprise waiting for me on the freeway home. I left early to see what it was." The last thing you expected was Hotch’s calm voice breaking through your flustered apologies. 

Your heart sank, imagining what he must have thought seeing that message. "I was trying to cover it up before you could see it. I didn’t want you to find out like this." You gestured up to the brightly colored billboard with what felt like the most embarrassing thing in the world displayed for everyone and their mother to see. 

“You don’t need to apologize for anything,” His gaze softened as he looked up at the message, then back to you. "I saw the billboard," he admitted a hint of awe in his voice. "Nobody has ever done anything quite like that for me. It was...unexpected, certainly, but kind in a way only you could manage."

Your heart fluttered, surprise etching across your features. "You liked it?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper, unsure if your ears were playing tricks on you.

"I loved it," he corrected gently, his hands still resting lightly on your shoulders. "You have a knack for the dramatic, but it’s one of the many reasons I..." His voice trailed off, and he hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. The pause was palpable, every second stretching longer than the last until finally, he continued, "It’s one of the many reasons I love you."

The world seemed to stop spinning as his words hung in the air. "You love me?" you repeated, your voice a mix of hope and disbelief. Hotch reached up to brush a stray hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. His hand lingered, cupping your cheek gently. Your hand reached up to cover his, leaning into his touch. 

Hotch nodded, a soft chuckle escaping him, as if it was common knowledge, like you should already know it--or maybe he realized he should have already said it. 

"Yes, I do. And I think it’s about time I said it."

Emotions swirled within you--relief, joy, and a love that had been quietly simmering for too long. It all bubbled to the surface as you stepped closer, reducing the space between you. "I love you too, Hotch," you confessed, your voice steady with conviction.

His smile was all the encouragement you needed. You both leaned in and under the soft glow of the streetlights and the shadow of the billboard, your lips met in a kiss that sealed the confessions of the day. The kiss was gentle at first, exploratory as if both of you were still gauging the reality of the moment. But as certainty took over, it deepened, affirming the years of unspoken feelings and flirtatious banter.

As you both pulled away, Hotch's eyes twinkled with a mixture of contentment and mischief. "Next time," he said with a playful grin, "I'll be the one buying flowers; you’ll know they’re from me. I wouldn’t dare buy you carnations, and they won’t come with a cheap teddy bear."

Your laughter filled the air, light and free, as you both made your way back to your cars, the billboard forgotten but its message now etched in both your hearts.

The next morning, as you walked into the BAU, you stood surprised. There, on your desk, stood two dozen long-stem roses in a vase, their crimson petals vibrant against the mundane backdrop of your office. Attached to the vase was a card, Hotch’s neat handwriting spelling out a message that was both flirty and utterly him: 

"For the record, I prefer dramatic gestures that involve flowers on days other than just February 14th. Here’s to many more, just the way we like them. --A."

The smile that spread across your face lingered long into the day, as did the warmth in your heart, knowing the dance of “will they, won't they” had transformed into a harmonious “finally, we did.”

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016  @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry @superlegend216

[runninriot]

The End Of Maybe

written for the @steddiebingo card prompt: proposal & @steddielovemonth day 1

rated: T | wc: 1.223 | tags: established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort, self-doubt, declarations of love, marriage proposal | also on ao3

 

   “Do you ever regret it?” Eddie asks quietly, eyes locked on the ceiling while his fingers are tracing invisible patterns on the skin of Steve’s back.

   “Regret what?”

Steve’s head is resting on Eddie’s chest, basking in the comfort of their shared body heat, still on his come down from an overdose of love-infused ecstasy. Enjoying his boyfriend’s closeness while his mind is happily drifting. Was drifting, until now. Now he’s alert, can sense the shift in Eddie’s mood, the gloomy aura suddenly surrounding him.

Eddie still hasn’t turned his gaze away from where it is fixed on nothing but white paint, stays unmoving even when Steve lifts his head to look at him.

   “Baby? Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in your head.”

For how talkative Eddie usually is, Steve has long since learned that his boyfriend can be eerily quiet when something is eating away at him. When he’s trying to come up with solutions on his own instead of sharing the burden. Over time, they’ve found a way to meet in the middle – with Steve giving Eddie the space and time he needs to sort through his thoughts and Eddie keeping his promise not to shut Steve out, to share what’s gnawing at him eventually.

   “I mean,” Eddie starts, finally looking down to find Steve’s eyes, shifting so that they’re lying side by side, face to face. Still close despite the emotional distance Steve can feel like a physical wall between them.

   “Do you sometimes regret choosing this over- something else?”

He’s being vague on purpose, not even trying to elaborate what he means and Steve knows why, understands what he’s saying either way. They had this conversation before, once, and ended up in a big fight, maybe their biggest one yet. Because at the time, it had felt like Eddie was trying to push him away, trying to talk him into something he didn’t want out of unfounded fear of Steve changing his mind one day. Having a hard time believing that he chose this life, not despite but because of what it would mean for his future.

For Steve, this has never been temporary; he’s always been all in. Wants to spend the rest of his days with Eddie, through the good and the bad and everything.

   “Never,” Steve finally says, keeping his voice soft but making sure the message is clear, “I want this and nothing else. I love our life with everything we have. I love you. You know that, right?”

Without waiting for an answer, Steve leans in for a kiss, a firm press of lips to emphasise his words.

He knows it’s just a little bump in the road, just Eddie being in his head – it happens every now and then, it’s okay, nothing to really worry about. But still, Steve hates to see Eddie sad.

   “I know you do, I just- I don’t know.”

Eddie sighs, buys himself time by stealing another tender kiss from his boyfriend, and Steve lets him get away with it.

   “Where’s this coming from, baby? Did I do or say something that made you think I’ve changed my mind?”

   “No! No, you did nothing, I- I guess I’m just scared.”

With one hand, Steve cups the side of Eddie’s face, thumb gently stroking over his cheekbone, not saying anything but patiently waiting for him to go on.

   “I know you love me, that’s not what I’m worried about. I just sometimes wonder if it’s truly worth giving up so many of your dreams for this. For me.”

Steve knows what Eddie is referring to, even without him having to spell it out. It is true, there had been a time where Steve’s biggest dream was to have a wife and kids, a whole bunch of them, living a quiet small-town life with his picture-perfect family.

But that was before Eddie came along. Before he fell heart over head in love with a wonderful young man, with the prettiest smile and dark brown eyes that make him weak, still, after all those years. Sure, he’d be lying if he said he never asked himself that same question, wondering if being with Eddie was worth facing all the battles they had to fight. If loving Eddie was worth letting go of the future he’d always thought he wanted for himself.

But the answer is still the same as it has been for over 6 years now – yes. A thousand times yes. Because the truth is, he didn’t give up a dream, he created a new one. With Eddie at the centre of everything, he’s built a life that is better than anything he could’ve imagined.

Nothing compares to being loved by Eddie, and nothing could ever make this relationship any more perfect. Except maybe…

He shoots up so sudden it startles Eddie, who reluctantly obeys when Steve beckons him to sit.

   “What-”

Steve doesn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence, presses the tip of his finger against Eddie’s lips to shut him up – not to be rude; he just needs him to listen to what he has to say before he loses his courage.

   “You’re it for me, okay? You are everything I need to be happy and I- I want to grow old with you, want to spend the rest of my life with you. You are all I want, now and forever.”

Steve swallows roughly, has to take a few deep breaths, can already feel the burning of tears in his eyes.

Robin will lose her mind. Will probably also give him a lot of shit for doing it like this, here, in the isolated cocoon of their bedroom rather than making it the big, pompous surprise they always joked about in secret. When they talked about the hypothetical maybe of Steve proposing one day.

Truth is, Steve has been thinking about it a lot in the past, about asking Eddie to take this next big step with him. Not for the sake of making at least one of his younger self’s dreams a reality, but because he wants to be Eddie’s in every way possible. Is more than willing to give up a name that means nothing to him for one that means love and trust and family.

   “Eddie, baby, will you marry me?”

He waits for the words to sink in, anxiously watching Eddie go through all the stages of understanding what Steve is asking him.

   “Are you-” Realisation.

   “Do you really-” Disbelief.

   “You want to-” Reassurance.

   “Oh my God, yes! YES!” Eddie finally answers with a trembling voice and eyes full of tears.

They’re both shedding tears of joy now, arms wrapped around each other, kissing, and smiling and kissing some more until just kissing is no longer enough. When the need to be closer overcomes them and whispered declarations of love and devotion turn into something a lot more obscene. When their bodies demand to become one in heated passion, euphoric and wild and sweet.

And when they come undone for the second time this night, it feels different in a way, new. Because it’s their first time as soon-to-be husbands. Falling apart together, with all their love carved into a promise to mark the end of maybe and the beginning of forever – no after – just them ‘til the end.

[hyperfocusthusly]

Sweet things

@bucktommyfluffebruary - day two prompt ‘cooking together’

Notes: established relationship, domestic fluff, Tommy is too busy staring at his boyfriend to be an effective sous chef | Rating: G | Words: 700

[Read on A03]

——-

“Sorry I’m late!” Tommy calls through the house, “there was an accident, traffic was a nightmare.”

“That’s okay,” a familiar voice calls back. “I had to start without you.” Tommy comes into the kitchen to find Evan whisking a bowl of egg whites. “Need to keep on schedule so it has to bake and cool before we put it together.”

Tommy half remembers the 20 minute run down of why you have to let a meringue cool slowly, something to do with sudden temperature change causing cracks? In his defence he had been half asleep at the time, laid out on the sofa with Evan’s fingers carding through his hair.

Ever since Athena had assigned them the dessert portion of the menu for their barbecue this evening Evan had been spending every spare minute searching for the perfect thing to make. Several internet deep dives, three new recipe books and countless conversations later he had come to the conclusion that a pavlova would be perfect for the job.

“It’s the best of all things.” He had explained one evening, plastered against Tommy’s back while he did the washing up. “It’s crunchy and chewy, sweet but if you choose the right flavour crème, I was thinking passion fruit, then it’s not too sweet. Plus it’s light enough for after a big meal, perfect for a summer barbecue.”

Tommy comes around the kitchen island, rests his hand on Evan’s hip and presses a quick kiss to the back of his neck.

“Hope you didn’t do all of my jobs for me. I want to look Hen in the eye and tell her I helped make this thing, I’m pretty sure it’s high on her list of things she doesn’t believe are possible.”

Evan laughs,

“I need you to separate some more eggs, 3 yolks should do and then they need to go on a double boiler-” he shifts out of Tommy grasp, pulling the scales out of a nearby cupboard and measuring sugar into a bowl.

“I thought we were making meringue.”

“We’re making a pavlova, three key components; meringue, crème and fruit.”

“Oh yes of course, how could I forget the three key components.”

Evan pulls a face of mock shock at Tommy’s sarcastic tone.

“How indeed” he reaches up and taps the recipe card taped to the cupboard. “All the instructions are there if you need them.”

Tommy separates the eggs carefully, and puts them in a double boiler on the stove. He is stirring them gently when he feels Evan’s gaze boring into the side of him.

“Can I help you with something?”

Evan waggles his hand in the direction of the drawer Tommy is stood in front of.

“Can you pass me a spoon?”

“Sure.”

He digs one out and gives it to Evan, their fingers brushing over the handle. His gaze lingers on Evan for a moment too long.

“You know you have to stir those constantly right?”

“Mmm?” Truth be told, Tommy is a little less focused on the steaming bowl and more on his gorgeous boyfriend. He feels a bit lost with the way the afternoon sun is catching the lighter tones in Evan’s hair, lifting the golden tones of his skin.

Evan reaches over with the hand not currently occupied whisking egg whites and closes it over Tommy’s wrist, forcing him to stir the mixture.

“If you don’t they will scramble.”

“We can’t have that.” Tommy murmurs softly, still entranced by the way the light makes Evan’s eyes shine, picking up the different shades of blue in his eyes and making them sparkle.

Evan catches Tommy’s eyes and stops for a moment, his trademark frantic cooking energy slowing down as he looks at Tommy. He knows realistically that 24 hours is not a hugely long time to go without seeing someone but the way he feels immediately lighter under Tommy’s gaze makes him realise how much he misses him when he’s at work.

“Sorry,” he mumbles “I didn’t even say hello.”

“That’s okay baby, I know how important the structural integrity of meringues is to you.”

“You’re important to me too.”

Tommy smiles and Evan thinks he may never get tired of seeing it.

Tagging some beloveds (as always let me know if you want to be added/removed);

@leashybebes @livelaughlou @loucifersbitch @dark-alice-lilith @mmso-notlikethat @laundryandtaxesworld @bucksaiga @littlepaws9 @sad-girl-hours23 @evansbuck-ley @jamieroyjamieroy @typicalopposite

@moonydanny @teenmaximoff @bucksboobs @ohithankyou @bi-bi-buckleys @rubydaiquiri @hellion-child @aringofsalt @sweaters-and-silly @theotherbuckley @comfortingevanbuckley @epiphainie @wikiangela @bidisasterevankinard

@sunnywithachanceofbi @desert--moonchild @blitzynatural @actuallyitsellie @big-urchin-energy @fyrehose @buckleyskinards @owlgirl495 @honeyloulou @setmeatopthepyre @salty-autistic-writer @thecarrott

[lostinlovingrevery]

Van's Valentines - Heartbreaker

70s DOFP! Logan X F! Reader

A/N: My first Valentines-themed fic! It came out more angsty than planned... All my Valentines fics are gonna be themed around these cute lil Valentine cards that I found through Pinterest!

Plot: He has moved in and out of your life for the last two years, you love him, but you're not sure if you can let him in again...

Warnings: Angst, but a happy ending! Logans a menace, reader is described as a waitress, with some backstory

Word Count: 2168

“Hey pretty girl.”

You rolled your eyes at the sound of his voice. Trouble. 

Logan Howlett. The menace of your life. The sole reason you have not been able to move on with yourself, to find someone else that you could fall madly in love with. He was the devil incarnate. A son of a bitch who’s made you cry more than you care to admit. 

You met him a little over two years ago. He walked into your small family restaurant. A little restaurant your grandfather started when he was about your age. You were just a waitress when Logan showed up. Handsome man who sauntered into the building with arrogance and snug jeans. He (unfortunately) charmed you off your feet. 

The next month you were in bliss. Until he decided to leave.

He told you it wasn’t you. It was him. That he wasn’t a homebody, that he needed to go out there. See the world. Sticking around just wasn’t him. You didn’t have a choice but to accept that and move on. You may have shed a few tears, missing the warmth of him in your bed, the sound of his voice when he came in to visit you at work, the way he made you feel like the only girl in the world that mattered. Nevertheless, you moved on. It was only a month you were together anyway, right? You had college and work to focus on. There’s other fish in the sea.

Then he came back.

Then he would leave again.

And he would come back again.

Every single time you accepted him into your arms like a fool, he would kiss you and you’d melt under his warm and timber voice, calling you baby, and sweetheart. Then you’d watch him leave again, tears falling down you cheeks as you inevitably began to wonder, why won’t he stay?

Even so, you never let him see the tears. You didn’t want him to know the power he held over you. Even if you both knew that you should’ve stopped opening your arms to him by the third time he showed up. It effectively ruined your love life. You couldn’t date any man without comparing the poor schmuck to Logan in more ways than one. Your heart felt wrong when you finally kissed the jock from your old high school you had a huge crush on during your high school years. You turned down the cute and very sweet new guy with pretty blue eyes who moved in town purely because you knew Logan was going to show up again- and you were right. 

Your grandfather told you once that your soul knew when it met it’s other half. He would tell you that there was strings that tied two people together and no matter how far you strayed from each other- you’ll meet again. You wondered often if that was the case with Logan...Now you're not too sure.

Now it’s been over two years since Logan came in and out of your life. The restaurant you worked in was now yours after the loss of your dear grandfather. The man who’s raised you and made you the person you were today. You dropped out of college when he died, taking over his legacy to the small town you were born in. You took pride in the restaurant, and everyone knew your name and respected you. It didn’t mean that you sometimes didn’t daydream about seeing the world, like Logan does.

It was Valentines day, and you were finishing putting up the pretty heart decorations, stringing along the ceiling and counters. Amongst many other little decorations that you had placed on various counter tops. The local radio station playing various cheesy love songs over the speaker. Despite having your heart broken by him more times than you care to remember. You were still a big romantic, and Valentines was your favorite holiday. Even if you believed you would be spending it alone. 

You didn’t turn around immediately to the sound of his voice. Your mind filled with irritation. 

Why did he have to show up today of all days? At this point you believed he must get off on causing you heartbreak.

You brushed your hands together, adjusted your apron, letting out a hard sigh and turned around, curses prepared on your tongue as you were about to finally tell him to get out of your life for good. Only it died back on your tongue as you saw him.

“Logan?” You blinked in surprise.

He was standing there, looking nicer than you’ve ever seen him. He always looked good, not one to make a fashion statement yet somehow sported the best looks you could see on a man. A clean button up shirt, tucked into smooth dark blue jeans- of course his classic belt with the almost comedically large designed buckle; It was the shape of a heart. His usual worn brown leather jacket that he would drape over you when he’d walk you back home, or when you sat on the back of his pickup and the sun would set, leaving a chill in the air. His hair was slicked back, his usual scruffy beard and mutton chops trimmed and cleaned up. He was sporting sunglasses that he took off, tucking into his shirt, as you took him in- as well as the gifts he was holding.  

He was holding a huge bouquet of red roses in one arm. The other was a big heart shaped box that you presumed held chocolates. 

He smiled- not his usual cocky smirk, it was something soft and genuine. Like the smile you seen your grandfather give your grandmother. He stepped forward. 

“Happy Valentines day baby.” He says, handing you the bouquet, which was so big you needed both arms to cradle it carefully. The aroma of the roses wafted to your nose, and you closed your eyes, taking a big sniff. “I thought you’d like em.”

“I…” You opened your mouth and shut them, looking back up at him with wide eyes, still slightly shocked. You looked into his eyes, the eyes that always made your knees weak.

“Had to get my girl something special for her favorite holiday, hm?” He smiled. 

You looked down at the roses,your heart fluttering at the sound of him calling you his girl. For a moment, you forgot about your irritation, your constant heartbreak. The fact that you thought about him all the time, wondering if he was okay. You have filled yourself with jealousy, jealousy of his lifestyle, jealousy of the girls who probably captured his attention somewhere else. Your heart sank. What are you doing? You’re letting him do it again! 

“Thank you.” You say, your tone firm. “I can’t take these though.”

He blinked in surprise, his smile dropping. “They’re for you.” He states, looking down at them. 

You sighed, moving to set them down on the counter, careful so that the roses don’t get crushed. “We can’t keep doing this Logan.”

“Doing what?”

Your brows creased angrily, a small scoff escaping you. “What? Are you serious? This!” Your voice pitched higher, and he blinked in surprise at your sudden outburst. “You show up, acting like you actually care about me and then leave!” Your hand flew in the air, motioning to him. He shook his head at your comment. You never showed him any anger when he came back, always happy, open arms, and a sweet kiss. A lovesick expression on your face as he’d tell you new stories of his adventures, completely forgetting of how he made you felt when he left. 

“I do care about you.” His voice was low, as his eyes looked down at you in an expression that looked confused. “How could you think I don’t?” 

You blinked in disbelief. How could he care about you? He shows up into your life, he treats you like you’re so important, that he could even….but he leaves. He always leaves. He never looks back. It didn’t matter if you begged him to stay a few more days, for one more kiss. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to move on with your life.

Shaking your head. “You should go Logan. Find some other girl to break the heart of.” You say, bitterness in your tone. There was a shakiness in your voice you attempted to hide. “The flowers are beautiful but I can’t…” You looked away from him, crossing your arms around you. You felt sick to your stomach. You didn’t want him to go.

He stepped closer. “You’re telling me to go?”

You nodded, not looking at him. A beat passed, and a hand came up, cupping your chin and making you look up at him. Your eyes were wet with unshed tears that you attempted to blink away- refusing to let him see the emotion on your face. 

The way he looked down at you almost made you burst into tears right then. A soft smile came across his face. 

“I’m sorry baby.” He says softly. His hand cupped your cheek, bringing his other hand to cup your face completely. “I’m sorry I hurt you. It’s my fault. I just couldn’t deal with how you made me feel.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I’m a huge asshole. I know.” He says softly. “I ain’t got no right. You don’t deserve it.” He continues. “I left that first time cause I knew that I…” He trailed off, looking at you with pressed lips. Like he was afraid to say what he wanted to say. 

“What?” You ask, your heart starting to beat faster. “Logan….”

“I kept coming back because I couldn’t get you out of my head. It was selfish I know.” His thumb rubbed softly across your cheek. Your hands, shakily reached up to rest on his hips. “Every time I left I couldn’t stop thinking about some asshole taking you. Someone who didn’t know how to make you laugh, or make you feel good like I know how.” He leaned forward, his forehead pressed to yours. “I missed you every single goddamn time. Thought about you every night. It drives me crazy. You drive me crazy.” 

You let out a small scoff, a small shake of your head. “Look who’s talking..” You mutter. He grinned. 

“I want you.” He says. “It took me some time to accept that. It terrifies me because there’s still some things you don’t know about me. I know it’s shitty. Don’t make me go away. No more running. You and me. We can make it work.” 

You blinked in surprise. “R-really? Logan I-”

“Be my Valentine?” He grinned. A small snort escaped you at the cheesiness of him. 

“Seriously?” You asked. You were still in disbelief. The way he just changed from your outburst. Was he serious? Or was he playing you like a fiddle again?

“Whatever you want. I could take you away from here, go on those adventures you always wanted to go on. I’ll take you New York, to Vegas, hell- I’ll even take you to my hometown in Canada.” He takes a breath. “If you want, after…We’ll come back here. Settle down. Anything you want. I’ll do it.” 

The determination of his face took you aback. Logan was always passionate yes, but he was casual about his passion, he’d pushed away whenever you brought up your relationship, what you meant to each other. Then later at night, in the heat of passion, he’d whisper sweet things in your ear- things he felt about you. You were never sure if it was true or he just said it, simply lost in the moment. You never knew what he was thinking or feeling. He wouldn’t tell you.

“I’ll be here for you. Just let me.” 

You thought back to the times he was here. They were some of your happiest memories. He did always know how to make you laugh. He knew what made you feel good. He knew what to say when you were stressed. He knew your deepest secrets. 

He was there when you lost your grandfather, somehow showing up that day after you found him. He stayed with you throughout the process. At the time, you thought he’d leave almost immediately. You were grieving, were in no mood for flings or flirting but he held your hand the entire way. It was actually the longest he ever stayed. Nearly 3 months. He held you when you cried. Supported you when you quit college. Even lent a hand at the restaurant. You couldn’t even be mad when he told you he had to leave. You were happy to just have someone who was there for you. 

Your grandfather always liked him. 

“Okay.” You smiled, leaning into him. You couldn’t believe yourself. Moments ago you were ready to cuss him out, tell him to get out of your life. Within minutes he made you fold. “We’ll make it work.”

He really was the devil.

[jackiespurnell]

just give it what it wants (lottie matthews x travis' sister reader headcanons - requested)

summary: you're travis and javi's sister, and the crash (alongside of the death of your father) has taken a toll on all of you. luckily for you, lottie is there to help.

tw: mentions of death, poverty, reader was previously a stripper in order to make money (pre-crash life)

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if someone told you six months that you’d be the kinda-sorta-girlfriend of the leader of a wilderness-worshipping cult consisting of a group of teenage girls you would probably say “what the fuck?”

which, even now, is still a pretty valid response

your dad was the coach of your school’s soccer team

and when they made it to nationals

naturally, you and your brothers got a free trip to seattle

you were the oldest of the bunch

and although you did spend the majority of the time at parties and getting drunk

you were by far the most responsible

and when the plane crashed and your dad died

of course you were devastated

because despite all his shittiness

he was still your dad

but now it was just you, travis and javi

and the soccer girls

you noticed how, as time went on, travis started getting closer to natalie

you didn’t know her that well, and despite you and travis’ constant bickering

you saw how happy she made him

so nat was good in your book

laura lee was kind, but a little too religious for your taste 

(who prays that much anyways???)

shauna and jackie were way too in love with each other to really focus on anyone else

same with tai and van (although you got a feeling they actually had their shit together)

and misty was just straight up freaking you out sometimes

in fact, besides your brothers, there was only one girl who really caught your attention

lottie was rich, insanely fucking rich, rich enough to afford a whole private plane

but she didn’t seem stuck up or bossy or anything

she was a little weird, sure

always randomly waking up in the middle of the night

just staring out into nothingness

and then there was that moment during the seance

but for the most part, she seemed pretty chill

you remember the first time you actually had a real, one on one conversation

the weather was getting a little bit cooler 

and you weren’t sure how long you guys had been out there

you had spent the majority of your pre-crash life scraping by, trying to find some ways to earn a little bit of cash

whether that was hooking up with guys twice your age or other part-time jobs you can run by

your dad’s job didn’t pay much, but at least it payed

now, you weren’t sure what to do

by now you would have already graduated high school

so at least you wouldn’t have to drop out

but no more college for you

you spent the majority of your days in the wilderness like this

taking a good five minutes just to sit alone and cry

and then go back to your responsibilities 

and one day lottie found you during one of your sulking sessions

while typically you would just tell her (or anyone) to fuck off

you were just too tired

and given the fact that really didn’t have anyone else to talk to about this

(javi was too young, and travis was simply too closed off)

lottie seemed like the best option

so when she opened her arms out for a hug

you wrapped your arms around her waist and starting crying

she was gentle with you, her hands carding through your hair softly

she told you it was going to be alright

and while you’re not exactly sure if you believe her

for now, it’s good enough

until she starts talking all about the wilderness and how its ‘meant to save all of you’

cause honestly

what the fuck???

your father died, you and your siblings might die too

and yet she sees it as a ‘sign’

but when you try to pull out of her arms and get the fuck away

she just pulls you closer

“i didn’t mean to make you upset” she murmurs against your hair

she explains how she just said what you felt

and you know it’s unreasonable to get upset

you know it’s just her way of coping

but still

but what good would fighting do?

you can’t change her opinions

(and maybe a part of you knows. knows how much power she has. how much power she will have. how even if you wanted to leave, you couldn’t because she has the final say)

so you just lie there in there her arms, letting her hold you and press kisses into your hair

eventually y’all head back to the cabin

and you don’t talk again for a couple of days

until one night, you’re half asleep, and you feel something

it’s lottie, shaking you awake

“do you hear that?” she whispers

and no, you don’t fucking hear anything but you’re too tired to say anything 

“follow me” she says, motioning towards the door and outside the cabin

and you know you shouldn’t

you know you should stay and watch over your brothers and get some sleep

you don’t even believe in lottie’s wilderness bullshit

but it’s lottie

so yeah

you follow her

it’s cold outside, really fucking cold, but fuck it’s pretty

even before all this, you never really liked the woods

it’s dirty and cold and just full of trees and dirt

but you never stopped to think how beautiful it is

you can clearly see the stars in the sky

there’s a lot of them

and while you don’t know a single one of their names or meanings or any of that stuff

in that moment it’s the best thing in this fucked up world

“it’s beautiful, right?” lottie says, almost as if she’s reading your mind

“it wants” she whispers into your ear, the hot breath of your mouth burning against your cold skin as she wraps her arms around your waist

and you know damn well what she’s talking about

and you don’t believe her for a fucking second

but either way, you know she’s not giving in

“what does it want?” you ask, just to entertain her

she presses her lips down to your neck and whispers “you” into your skin

and, well, when she puts it like that…

who are you to refuse?

────୨ৎ────────

requested by @mikeymadisonsgf (i know you didn't give me a specific req so i hope u enjoy)

[starlightsinger32]

The Way I Need this Inhun (457) Fanfic...

I am actually stunned that no one in the mountains of 457 fanfiction has written a Business Proposal AU yet!

Think about it:

Gi Hun (still his canon age) is a part time mechanic, full time cutie pie who gets talked (bribed) into standing in for his business owner friend Sang Woo on a blind date. Sang Woo hates blind dates, and dating in general, but his mother is persistent and the only person Sang Woo can't say no to, so he pays Gi Hun to go on the date for him instead and act so off putting the guy will never bother Sang Woo again.

Enter CEO In Ho who, under coercion from his chairman and father figure Il Nam, is going on a blind date with Cho Sang Woo. Oh, and did I forget to mention that In Ho owns the auto parts company Gi Hun works for, which he does not figure out until AFTER the CEO is in front of him?

Gi Hun has his Season 1 hair, but when he is pretending to be Sang Woo, his hair is slicked back and has highlights in it. Sang Woo also put him in an expensive suit, lol. Gi Hun really does try to ruin the date by being overly flirty, rude, and shallow, but In Ho keeps getting distracted by business emails, and nothing Gi Hun does really phases him. So like Ha ri, Gi Hun gets desperate and suggests they get a room to get down to...business. In Ho has clocked how nervous he actually is by this point, so he calls his bluff and agrees.

Gi Hun can't take it anymore and makes a very weak excuse before taking off, with Jun Ho (who works with In Ho) nearly hitting him with the car he came to pick up his brother in. In Ho tries to chase him, but he escapes.

Unfortunately for him, In Ho enjoys a good pursuit, especially when the person he's chasing is interesting, unique, honest, and very polite to waitstaff, all qualities he has not seen on other dates. So he tells Il Nam he's going to marry Sang Woo.

So imagine his surprise when he shows up at Sang Woo's office to secure the 'deal' only to find a very different man from the kind eyed, rosy cheeked man he wants to marry. He and Sang Woo are actually quite similar men, so they quite quickly reach an understanding that if Sang Woo doesn't tell In Ho who the imposter is, In Ho will ruin him financially. Even though Sang Woo cares more for his own security than Gi Hun's, he doesn't like showing all his cards, so he agrees to bring the imposter, an actor, he claims, to In Ho. He manages to keep the fact that they are childhood friends hidden.

Sang Woo tricks Gi hun into going to a restaurant with him before telling him that In Ho is on his way, and not to reveal they know each other. Gi Hun is panicking HARD when In Ho shows up, which In Ho enjoys, but he quickly decides that he likes this optimistic, awkward man who is nothing like the cold, selfish men he has to interact with on a regular basis.

So he soft threatens Gi Hun into staying and having lunch with him, but at the end, when Gi Hun offers to make up for deceiving him, In Ho tells him to marry him. Gi Hun panics again, but is also confused and reminds In Ho he's NOT rich, but In Ho doesn't care and insists he's made his choice.

Gi Hun, who is very aware he can't marry HIS BOSS, rejects him and tries to leave, saying he doesn't want to marry someone he barely knows, but just like in the original show, In Ho follows and tries to convince him to go on ten dates with him, saying that he'll WANT to marry him at the end. Gi Hun calls him weird, says his face looks like a rockfish (which makes Jun Ho, who is listening, start laughing), and 'storms' away.

Unfortunately, this awakens In Ho's competitive spirit, and he yells after Gi Hun that he's going to find him AND he's going to marry him.

Idk what exactly happens after that, but lots of drama, for sure.

Other Tidbits I'd love:

-Il Nam being less murderous and more obsessed with K Dramas and meddling in people's love lives

-Jun Ho being the best wingman, but also the desperate voice of reason for his brother

In Ho being OBSESSED with his mystery man and planning their wedding in between stalking attempts (he values time efficiency and he wants that cookie BAD)

Most of the Season 1 and 2 players work in the same company as Gi Hun, and absolutely get a kick out of Gi Hun's desperate attempts to hide his face everytime their CEO shows up. Except maybe Sae byeok, I think she'd feel bad for him

Sang Woo being the slimy business man he is and manipulating Gi Hun into giving In Ho his phone number because In Ho gets impatient and starts pressuring Sang Woo to give him more info about his future wifey

SO much jealousy when In Ho finally figures out who Gi Hun really is. He's jealous of his friends, he crushes things in his hands when Jung bae touches Gi Hun, and he's ready for war when the employees go out for drinks and Gi Hun smiles at the bartender (!)

Jun Ho spending SO much time talking In Ho down from committing felonies, or causing HR problems at the very least

If you read all this, I love you

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

I guess this is more about the melusines than the guys, but I can't get over the idea of the melusines taking care of sick reader when they are dating Neuvilette or Wriothesley.

I could not figure out if you wanted to just gush about the idea of them caring for the reader or if you wanted some headcanons about this so *shrug* we ball I guess :V

The melusines are very fond of Neuvillette and Wriothesley and by extension they're going to be just as fond of who ever they are with.

If Neuvillette and or Wriothesley don't know their s/o is sick or even if they do know their s/o is sick the melusines are going to find out and that news will spread FAST.

Every melusine will know and will want to help out in some way be it by making them foods to help them keep their strength, medicine that'll lessen their symptoms, or even some get well cards and gifts. Though it'll be up to Neuvillette and or Wriothesley to prevent their s/o from consuming anything they make because it'll definitely make them sicker somehow unless it's from Siegwinne unless it's a shake.

The melusines will help out with any chores and errands they need to get done and if they're able to they'll do anything they can in order to make sure Neuvillette and or Wriothesley have some time off or have a longer break than usual to tend to their s/o.

[freshxsturniolo]

but, why? CHRIS STUNRIOLO x FEM!READER - PART THREE.

Part 1 ∣ Part 2

a smile illuminates your face as you walk across the bar after using the bathroom, jasons eyes finding your instantly. gods, he was gorgeous. so gorgeous. you'd had such a lovely evening and enjoyed every second of his and his friends company, but there was a feeling inside of you that just needed to be home.

"did you manage to get an uber?" he asked as you reached him, his hand reaching for your instantly as you sit down. you plaster on a smile and lean forward to drop a small kiss to his lips. gods, those lips.

"yeah. it'll be here shortly." you say, pulling back away and squeezing his hand tightly before letting go, grabbing your drink and finishing the final sip. you had no idea how many drinks you'd had over the last few hours. jason and his friends had done a fine job of ensuring your purse and bank card stayed firmly away, and a drink was always in your hand.

"I feel so bad. are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" he leans forward, his hand finding your thigh. your leg tenses on contact, and a warmth washes over you as his hand slowly rubs against your bare skin. "we could go back to mine. or yours." he drops kiss behind your ear and you let out a shaky breath.

truthfully, you had fully expect the night to end exactly like that. you'd made every effort possible, you'd cleaned your apartment within an inch of its life incase he finally came back with you, but still, as much as his touch and his voice was incredibly tempting, tonight didn't feel the night.

"i promise, next time." you flush. and he chuckles into your ear before pulling away, giving your thigh a quick squeeze. "anyway," you start, looking around at his friends who are all around your table, laughing and joking with each other. "imagine what this lot would say if we ran off together."

jason chuckles, picking up his drink. "i dont care, as long as its you im running off with."

your phone pings at exactly the wrong time. your heart swells. you almost want to curse yourself for texting him. asking him to pick you up. theres a light blush against your cheeks and you're about to say something when one of his friends slaps his shoulder, leaning forward and passing another drink forward. you take your chance to look at your phone, seeing his name and letting out a smile.

"i didn't get you one, y/n." your head whips up. "unless you've decided to stay?"

you smile at jasons friend, before you grab your bag from the arm of your chair.

"my ride just got here, but thank you." you smile, starting to stand up. jason follows suit, and you give him a quick look before turning to his friends. you thank them all for a wonderful night, and to your surprise every single one of them stands up to give you a hug. it takes a while, all 5 boys pulling you in and wishing to see you soon, but when you finally spin back to jason, he's made his way to the bar and is leaning against it, staring at you deeply. you walk your way over, and your hands find his neck immediately.

"im busy for the next few days," he starts, and you nod. "but can i call you tomorrow? and the day after that? and then the day after that?"

you laugh, dropping your head down before looking back at him. "of course."

he smiles, leaning forward to brush his lips to yours and you accept gratefully. "let me walk you out." he says, and your heart rate speeds slightly, but you give him a smile.

"im fine, babe. go enjoy yourself."

he's hesitant, but he smiles before leaning forward to drop another kiss."let me know when you're home safe, please." he whispers into your lips.

"of course" you whisper back, and then you give him a final peck before squeezing his arm slightly, and walking away. a laugh escapes you as you hear his table of friends cheer at him as he walks back, and it takes everything in you not to turn around and stare at him one last time.

and yet, the minute you get outside and are greeted by your best friend, you heart leaps a little.

"your carriage awaits" he speaks, leant against the wall. your smile falters as you role your eyes.

"dont gloat" you say, and he laughs, pushing himself off the wall and grabbing you into a hug. your arms are around his back instantly as you give him a squeeze.

"you absolutely stink of vodka" he says into your ear, and you pull away, pushing him away. he laughs, grabbing his car keys from his pocket. "and mr lover boy hasn't even walked you out?"

you roll your eyes again, but grab his wrist for support. "his name is jason. and no. i told him to stay inside."

"such a gentleman" chris mutters, grabbing your arm as you walk towards the car.

"i'll go back inside if you can't be nice." you say, coming to a stand still.

your best friends had become more open over the last few days to your relationship, or not relationship, with jason. but chris still stuck on the fence. disengaging when conversation arose, changing the subject at every possible moment too without it coming across as rude. you had sighed just the night before as you lay in bed with nick, turning over to him and asking him WHY chris was so cold with any man you entered into your life. nick had been hesitant, and he had looked at you like he didn't know what to say for right or wrong, but he had pulled you into a hug and told you to have fun, regardless of what his brother thought.

chris stopped walking too, but a laugh escaped his lips as he slings his arm over your shoulder.

"im only joking, come on, lets get you food."

and so you did. the moment you got in the car and chris played your favourite playlist, you felt the most relaxed you had had all evening. you were drunk, so incredibly drunk, and for some reason chris' energy and presence had bought it out in you. but he took it in his stride. he laughed with you, he payed for your food without question and he sang along to all your favourite songs with you.

when he finally pulled up, at his and the boys house you noticed, you grabbed your phone out of your bag and pinged jason a message to let him know you were home safely, and thanked him again for a great night. when you put your phone back away, chris was staring at you intensely.

"what?" you laugh, grabbing your drink from the cup holder at the side of you. the full sugar pepsi after copious amounts of wine was much welcomed.

chris stared at you, but shrugged as he turned to get out the car. the moment long forgotten when your phone pinged again. you got out of the car, drink in hand and your heart jumped a little when you saw jasons message, telling you he would call you in the morning. placing your phone back in your bag, you make your way towards chris.

"i don't remember asking you to bring me back here" you joke, slipping your hand into his. he looked down at your hands before he interlocked them, grabbing your closer.

"i don't remember you telling me to take you home, either." he jokes. you laugh.

"if you want to spend more time with me, you only have to ask." you say back, hitting his shoulder with yours.

but chris says nothing as you walk into their house, chaos descending the minute nick hears your heels on the floor. you're pulled from chris' arms immedately, nick spinning you round and asking you for every single little detail possible about the night. you were a smirking giddy mess by the time you were done, explaining all the times jason had squeezed your thighs under the table, the kisses behind your ear. nick had listened and gasped in all the right places, but it was matt who bought you back to earth as he flung himself down on the couch after listening from the kitchen.

"so, why the fuck are you here and not at his house?"

you whip your head to him immediately, but it takes you a second. because you're not sure. your eyes scan to chris, and he's staring at you again, exactly how he did in the car. it isn't lost on you that you can't seem to tear your eyes away from him.

"does it fucking matter, matt?" nick chimes, and your trance is broken as you turn around to nick. you smile, internally thanking him for speaking out. you hear matt chuckle behind you, and then nick is on his feet.

"are you staying the night? fuck why am i even asking, you're absolutely staying the night. i have some of your make up wipes in my bathroom. matt, did you throw her stuff from last night into the laundry?"

you spin round to matt, and he stand immediately. "yeah, let me get them."

you smile. "can i borrow a hoodie?"

matt rolls his eyes, but gives you a grin afterwards. you laugh, sinking back into the couch, flinging your heels off onto the floor and pulling your knees into your chest. but when the room becomes silent, matt and nick in other rooms, chris' voice pops up.

"why did you?"

you look to him immediately. you screw your eyebrows. "huh?"

"why did you? come back here? why didn't you stay and end the night with him"

"i-"

he doesn't let you answer.

"what was your excuse for coming home?"

you gulp. "i said i was tired."

"and who did you tell him was giving you a ride?"

you pause. "i told him i called an uber."

he stares at you for what feels like an eternity, before he stands up.

"i cant do this."

"chris-"

but he's off down the stairs to his room before you can say something else.

[hidden-poet]

Poison: part 3

Summary: Coriolanus always hated Sejanus Plinth. He had everything that Coriolanus should of had; money, influence, and you.

Warnings: Coryo being de-lu-lu, unrequited love, Reader insert, dark!Coriolanus snow, unedited, dead dove to not eat

Word count: 9,832

Part 1 here

Part 2 here

Part 3

Part 4 coming

Comments and asks welcomed!

 Coriolanus sat on the train to District 12. 

Something compelled him to bribe the clerk for a ticket to district 12. 

He wondered if Lucy-Gray would still be alive?

Would they kill her for his mistake? 

If he wasn’t hopeful that he could get himself out of this mess and back to you, he would have killed himself. 

The shame of it all was too much. He couldn’t even look Grandma’am or Tigres in the eye while he explained the circumstance he now found himself in. He felt as if he had failed them. 

He knocks his head against the cold, hard glass. Watching as his surroundings sped past him. 

The door was heard as it opened, but Coriolanus didn’t stir from his self-pity, sure it was another recruit just passing through. 

When he heard Sejanus’s voice it startled him

“I thought I might find you here”, his old enemy spoke with a grin. 

“Sejanus, what are you doing here?” 

He rises from his seat, watching as Sejanus in a peacekeeper uniform came forward with a duffle bag.

He gazes back at the door with his heart in his throat. If Sejanus had brought you along to district 12, Coriolanus was sure to kill him where he stood. 

But the door never reopened. You were safe back in the Capitol.

“Are you kidding me? After I found out where they were sending you I couldn’t get here quick enough”.

Sejanus throws his bag on the floor and takes a seat across the table. Coriolanus joins him with his questions. 

“What about y/n? Did you break up”, Coriolanus asked too quickly and with too much hopefulness in his voice. 

“No”, Sejanus’ coy smile angered Coriolanus greatly, “No. we are engaged. 

Coriolanus swallows his rage to force out a “Congratulations”. 

“Thank you. Yeah, you know. I figure I get through basic, and become a medic. They allow third year medics to bring over family, give you a house on base instead of sharing a dorm with twenty other men. We can carve out a better life for us out here”.

“You plan to bring her here? To the districts. Are you insane? They are savages here”.

“They are desperate people. People in need of help. Y/n and I have a real chance of making a difference out here, like you told me I could do”. 

Coriolanus’s hands balled into fists. He hadn’t meant to get you tangled up in Sejanus' misled fantasies. He only wanted to get out of the arena. 

“If you think I am going to let you bring her here, you are mistaken”. 

As soon as Coriolanus got his hands on a piece of paper he was going to write to your father, and tell him of the plan. He properly didn’t even know of the engagement. 

Sejanus laughs as if it was a joke. As if Coriolanus wasn’t imagining jumping across the table and pounding his face in. 

“I know you want the best for her, Coryo. So do I. You’re a good friend, but y/n can make her own decisions, and she has chosen to follow me to district 12”. 

The word ‘friend’ made Coriolanus’s ears hot. He was not a friend. Not to Serjanus. Not to you. Still his composure was his strength. He had to wait until the time was right. He couldn’t have you thinking he was jealous. Jealousy was weak. 

If your father had already disowned you due to the news of the engagement, he would have no further cards to play. He would figure out a way to keep you in the Capitol, but it started with staying in the loop of information. 

“Be careful, Sejanus. It’s a different world out here. One where you can’t buy your way out of trouble.”

Coriolanus looks to the window, sure if he spent any more time looking at Sejanus his fists would fly before he could stop himself. 

“Ah come on, man. Don’t give me grief. I’ve come all this way for you. Why are we talking about my girl, when we should be talking about yours? The girl you risked everything for is just at the end of these train tracks”.

His girl, the one he risked everything for, was back in the Capitol, engaged to his enemy. 

Coriolanus was sure he was going to kill Sejanus, but faked agreement. 

—-----------

You would write Sejanus letters every week. Pages, and pages on how much you missed him. How you wore the ring with great pride, and never take it off.

You never mentioned the kiss. Never asked about Coriolanus. He wondered if you had told Sejanus or decided to keep it as a secret. 

He liked the idea of you having a secret with him. Something that only you two shared.He thought back to the kiss often, wondering what he could have changed that would have stopped you reacting the way you did. But what did it matter? The outcome would have been the same.

His fate was sealed when his father made enemies with Dean Highbottom. 

Late at night Coriolanus would break into Sejanus’ locker to read your letters. He would sit under the moonlight, pretending that the letters were written for him. He would pen one back in his mind. 

He thought about sending you a real letter, but what would he say? I love you. Don’t marry Sejanus. 

It seemed too little now. 

He trained hard. Much harder than Sejanus. 

He was desperate to be picked for officer training. From there he could make his way back to the Capitol faster than Sejanus could earn the privilege of bringing you here. 

When he pushed his body to the limits during training, and remained studying while the other men captured what little joy they could. He thought of returning to the capitol while Sejanus was stuck in this living hell. 

It would be hard not to fall in love while your boyfriend was in a different world. 

Coriolanus would do everything with you, naturally as your only friend. You would feel terrible having rejected him just moments before he was shipped off. Maybe even regret it. 

It would happen slowly and naturally. One day you would just wake up and realised you were in love with coriolanus. 

It would break Sejanus' heart certainly. But Coriolanus had suffered in silence for years. It was his turn. 

He would figure out money at a later date. An officer makes a decent wage, but not enough to afford you the lifestyle you deserve. That Grandma’am and Tigress deserved. 

It was a hurdle he would jump through when the time came. First he had to survive district 12. 

He was yet to see any of it. The Compound was locked down tight. You had to earn the privilege of time off. Not that Coriolanus had the desire to see any of it, or even take a break from his study. 

But he had wished that Sejanus would be further away at times. 

He followed Coriolanus around like a shadow. Swapping chores and assigned placements to be near Coriolanus at all times. 

The only benefit of Sejanus’ friendship was Ma’s cooking. She would send packages of sweet treats each week. 

It made Sejanus popular among the cohort. Coriolanus would always get first pick being Sejanus’ closest friend. 

Having been fed three meals a day and Ma’s sweet treats, Coriolanus gained healthy weight. 

He found himself being able to focus better and his energy flourished. 

He would return to a changed man, but you hoped you would still be the same woman. 

His mind focused on you as he pushed his body to the duties of a Peacekeeper.

Sejanus would talk of you which helped. Mostly things he had already read in the letters you send for Sejanujs, but sometimes he would derail and offer a piece of  information Coriolanus never knew. 

It made Sejanus slightly bearable. His presence is less insufferable when he is useful. 

Still being followed everywhere was starting to grate on Coriolanus. 

He walks fast to try and shake Sejanus, but the young boy takes it as a challenge to keep up even with his damaged knee. 

He complains about the superior officers while Coriolanus races across the yard to return his patrolling uniform so he could return to his bunk and study for the officer test. 

The gray uniform was heavy with padding, and his helmet was like a rock in his hand. It added to his irritation as Sejanus squawked in his ear about things he didn’t care about. 

His mind floats to you and what you could be doing. He imagines you shopping for a new dress, and then going for lunch in the Capitals best restaurant, where he would be sitting there patiently waiting for you. 

When he heard your voice in his ear, at first he thought he dreamt it, but he would never dream of you calling Sejanus name over his. 

He whips in the direction of the sound to see Sejanus already sprinting to the fence. 

You stood behind a tall wire fence that separated the Peacekeepers section from the nurses and doctors. You wore the dreadful blue nurses uniform with a white patch across the left side of your breast that stated ‘Junior nurse’. 

With no makeup or jewelry and with your hair tied back into a ponytail, you looked pale and undressed.

He stared at you in disbelief but you never spared him a glance. 

Sejanus throws himself into the fence in front of you, attempting to hold what he could of you. The fence separated your bodies, so intertwining your finger through the gaps was as close as you could get. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?”Coriolanus could hear Sejanus ask in a tone of disbelief that spoke of his surprise. 

Coriolanus moves over to the fence line to hear the reason too. Still half shocked that you were really here. 

“What about your family? Your dad?”, Sejanus pesters. Both very good questions. 

Did they even know you were here? Could Coriolanus work with your father to get you back to the Capitol where you belong?

You shake your head at him

“It doesn’t matter” you say, “All I have is you now, okay?”. 

Sejanus laughs giddily at your words, but Coriolanus remains livid. You shouldn’t be here, moreover it wasn’t true, you didn’t only have Sejanus, but you had Coriolanus’ mind, body and soul that you are so quick to dismiss. 

“Are you crazy?”, he seeths. 

You tear your eyes away from Sejanus to glare at him. 

“What a surprise Coriolanus isn’t happy again”, you remark. 

“Do you realise what you have done? How dangerous it is to have followed him here?” Coriolanus pushes. 

“I’ve made my choice’’, you state. Coriolanus felt you were speaking to more than your decision to follow Sejanus. You were making it clear that you belonged to Sejanus. 

Coriolanus could feel the ghost of your lips against his. You hadn’t forgotten and forgiven the kiss.

How could he protect you here if you wanted nothing to do with him? How could he get you to listen to him if you willfully blocked your ears with Sejanus?

“Hey”, Sejanus scoffs, trying to ease the tension, “some things never change”.

Coriolanus felt Sejanus clamp his large hand on his shoulder. If he wasn’t so stuck in his anger, he would have shaken him off. 

Instead he stood rigid staring at you. Hoping that this all was just a dream.

“I for one couldn’t be happier. I have the two most important people in my life. A path in life, a chance to make a real difference, freedom. Our lives have just begun. We’re going to do great”. 

You smile at him in a delusional gaze. 

“We’re going to do great”, you agree. 

A whistle blows and an older woman in a nurses uniform begins to yell at you. 

“I’ll see you soon”, you promise to your fiance. 

“Hoffs given us leave passes for the weekend, can you make it?” Sejanus rushes. 

You nod your head ‘yes’, half turning your body away before you receive a punishment for insubordination.  

“Meet me at the front gates at 4 o’clock on Saturday”, he instructs. 

Coriolanus felt his blood run cold at the thought of willingly bringing you out from the safety of the compound. 

“I will” you promise. The stupid smile not leaving your face. 

Your complete delusional state left you vulnerable to very real danger that the district posed. 

“Take care of yourself” Coriolanus orders as you run back to where you were supposed to be. 

Sejanus slaps Coriolanus' shoulder in glee, and this time Coriolanus has the capacity to shove Sejanus away. 

He turns, regaining his fast pace to return the uniform with Sejanus following, but no longer talking. 

The goal was to get back to the Capitol before Sejanus could bring you here, now you have come on your own accord and completely ruined his plans. Why did you have to be such a difficult woman? 

Had you ruined his officer plans? How could he leave you here with only Sejnaus for protection. 

The panic almost strangled him. He needed to recalculate his plan

 But every outcome he could think of either let you down or grandma’am and tigres. 

He left Sejanus still taking off his jacket in the uniform room to go back to his bunk.  

Sejanus had swapped a week of Ma’s goodies for the lower bunk so Coriolanus only had a few moments before Sejanus would rejoin him. 

His head hit the flimsy pillow and he covered his face with his hands.

He could think of a million things that could go wrong now that you were here. 

A district could find his way into the Camp. Into your bunk, with your luck. You could get sick and have to rely on the district's poor resources. 

Life in the Compound was no picnic. You would have to work harder than you ever had before. At home you ate and woke when you decided. Here you would have to earn your keep. 

The privileges of your life lost because you loved the wrong man. The right man would stop at nothing to ensure your every comfort, not congratulate you for losing everything for him. 

He wondered if he could kill Sejanus during training and get away with the accident angle. But you would never look at him the same if he killed Sejanus, accidently or not. 

Footsteps approached the bed and Sejanus threw something heavy on the bed.

“Coryo, are you alright?”, he asks. 

“You need to tell her to leave Sejanus. For her own good”, he commanded. 

He uncovered his face to look Sejanus in the eye as he spoke but his words missed their mark. 

Sejanus smiles instead and rolls his eyes. 

“You worry too much. You’ve always been like that, even in the academy. Always watching everyone carefully choosing when to weigh in”. 

“Well I am weighing in now, Sejanus. Is this really what you want for her? The slums of the District?”, Coriolanus snarls. 

His push awakened something in Sejanus who now carried a look in his eyes that Coriolanus had never seen before. 

“I know you and Y/n are friends so I’ve put up with a lot, but you are overstepping your boundary now. So long as Y/n and I are together nothing else matters. I don’t care if I am with her here or the hunger games. She’s not your girl, Coriolnanus, you don’t need to worry about her”. 

His comment silenced Coriolanus who was forced to turn to his side away from Sejanus. 

Coriolanus’s hands balled into fists ready to put Sejanus back in his place. But he was right. Technically you weren’t any of his concern. 

If it had been anyone else Coriolanus wouldn’t have battered an eye. But it was you. The object of his obsession since the end of the dark days. 

His life line to keep going through it all. His hope and joy, even if you never knew it. 

Maybe that’s why you felt compelled to come to district 12. To help Coriolanus survive yet another feat. 

To inspire him to work harder, to train longer. 

Suddenly, he felt terrible for greeting you the way he did. 

You were only trying to help him. You came to him in his hour of need, and he had bitten you for it. 

A slither of hope ran through Coriolanus. 

Maybe things would work out after all. 

—------

Coriolanus counted down the hours until the weekend. 

Sejanus too. It was the first time he had ever had anything in common with the district born boy. 

He saw glimpses of you during training in the yard. 

Never for very long and Coriolanus had to concentrate to find you amongst the other recruits. But a single glance for a split second was enough to renew his spirits. 

He even found himself interacting with others. Ending nights in a friendly competition between friends, rather than with the training book in his hand. 

There were many Peacekeepers in the compound, but few that he liked. Most of them knew nothing more than to follow orders and use brute force.

The unit he was placed in housed twenty men in a shed that didn’t leave for much room. Of the twenty, Coriolanus found company in only three. Beanstalk, called so for his great height, Smiley, a round face and eager boy and Bug, who often said nothing. 

They had tried to give Coriolnaus a nic-name, but he pushed back against it. His name was the last thing he held to his capitol standing. He would die before he relinquished it. 

Sejanus on the other hand accepted the name ‘Bulls-eye’, dubbed after an impressive training session, where he hit nearly all of the targets. 

The name had taken on an ironic meaning after he failed to do so since. Coriolanus had warned him against showing such promise. They don’t need a medic with perfect aim. It may derail his plans of leaving the gun behind for gauze. 

Coriolanus also didn’t need Sejanus taking any attention away from him during training. He needed to be the best in all categories so there was no doubt in the Commanders eyes that Coriolanus was the one to be sent for officer training.

Saturday came slowly, but finally arrived. 

Coriolanus took extra time to groom himself. Ensuring that he looked and smelt his best after hours of grueling training. 

The other men, who he had come to accept as friends until he could get out, snickered at him, asking him if he was prettying himself for the girls.

Coriolanus smirked to himself as the men jeered. 

Sejanus came to his defence and the men left Coriolanus alone. 

They stood together prettying themselves for the same girl. 

“Do you think she will be there?” Sejanus asks. 

Coriolanus felt a jolt run through him. Seeing you was the only thing he was looking forward to. Was your presence now a maybe?

“Who?”Coriolanus asks for clarity. He puts down his wet washer and faces Sejanus at the next sink. Surely, he couldn’t mean you. 

‘Who else? Lucy-Gray!” He said without care. 

Coriolanus huffs, feeling his heart go back down into his chest. 

“I don’t know”, Coriolanus says, “I don't even know if she would still be alive”. 

It saddened him to think that his cheating would cause her death. 

“Do you think they killed her?” Coriolanus asked. 

Sejanus shakes his head ‘no’ still looking in the mirror to apply his after shave, and pleasant smelling cream. 

“Why would they risk it? She was a big hit. If they do have the games next year, they will properly invite her to sing at the opening ceremony”. 

His words sooth Coriolanus, who picks up his soapy washer and runs it across his skin. 

When he finally saw you standing just outside the compound gates with the sun going down behind you, it felt as if a heavy weight was being lifted from his chest. 

You wore a nurses uniform, pale blue and faded from previous use. The sleeves came down to your elbow and hugged your skin.The top of the fabric cinched at your waist before falling into a straight line of fabric that ended just before your knees. 

“Hey” you called with a wave. 

Coriolanus fought to keep his hand down, as Sejanus ran up to you. 

Sejanus took you into his arms and gave you a deep kiss, earring a cheer from the men. Coriolanus had to look away from the sight. 

You break away to shush them, much to Coriolanus’s pleasure. 

“Don’t draw any attention” you command, “I’m not supposed to be here. I gave a girl my gold hair clip to cover for me. It’d be a waste if you blew it for me”. 

The men hush, instead shaking Sejanus in encouragement. 

“Come on”, Sejanus commands, turning out from you but keeping a hold of your hand, “lets get there before all the seats get taken” 

“I have to be back by ten. Thats when the head nurse checks the bunks”. 

Sejanus hums in response, but Coriolanus was livid that you had a bedtime at all. 

He wanted to say so to you, but found it difficult to get close enough to speak to you. 

He was pushed to the back as Smiley, and Beanpole crowded you with questions, and idle conversation. 

It left Coriolanus and Bug walking behind the group in silence. He never thought Bug would become his favorite. 

The men disappeared as the large barn came into sight. Coriolanus took his spot next to you as soon as it opened. 

He could hear the music from a mile away as he walked. The old barn had a yellow stream of flight that flooded the place, occasionally cut off by shadows of people walking past. 

He stayed close to you as you entered the barn. 

It was hot and loud inside. Peacekeepers and districts crowded the floor. No one seemed to mind the shared coexistence, but Coriolanus could feel the underlying tension. He would be sure not to let you go too far tonight. 

A small blonde headed girl sings and dances on a makeshift stage. A call for peace while people were fixated on her. 

Senjanus halts on the edge of the dance floor. His eye caught by something at the bar. 

“Stay with Coriolanus. I am going to get a drink”, Sejanus orders.

He is weaving his way through the crowd before you could get your “okay” out. 

Coriolanus stood straighter next to you. His hand reaches out behind you to keep you close but never lands. 

The little girl on stage finished her song and the crowd roars for more. 

“Is it getting hot in here?”, the girl calls to the crowd. 

You cheer back, cupping your hands to scream back and clap.

“Well, we’re planning on heating it up just a tad more!”, she teases, “The one, the only, Lucy-Gray-Baird!”. 

The world stops for a second as he watches Lucy-Gray dance up onto the stage. She was dressed in heavy dark clothing that resembled a costume, and had her face painted in make-up. 

You hit Coriolanus’s chest in excitement.

He looks down at you. He had brought you this happiness. 

You grinned from ear to ear. Your eyes sparkle with joy that he secured by cheating in the games. 

He wondered if he would get a thank you. He wouldn’t push it from you, seeing you happy was enough for him. 

Lucy-Gray warms the crowd with her charm before she starts her song. It was the same one from the reaping but placed to a happy tune. He almost didn’t recognize it. But her words were unforgettable. 

“You can take my pa, but his name’s a mystery”, she sang,

Her eyes roam around the room before finally falling on you and Coriolanus in the crowd. 

Her voice hitches when her eye catches Coriolanus. The words she was singing gets stuck in her throat until you draw her attention by waving. 

Lucy-Gray gives you a flash of her smile and her singing voice returns. 

He couldn’t believe it. She was alive. His filly in the race made it out unscathed. 

You take a step forward into the crowd and Coriolanus goes along with you, hovering his body protectively close. 

A shout is heard from the back of the room causing coriolanus to turn to see a dark featured man making his way through the crowd. 

Coriolanus pushes you closer by the shoulder into him and out of the mans way as he pushes through. 

“Lucy-Gray!”, he calls, “Lucy-Gray, you're sounding mighty thin without me! You all are!”.

“Billy!” the women trailing him scolded. 

He feels you shuffle forward towards the scene, and clamps down on your shoulder to keep you at bay. 

“I know you miss me!”, Billy yells as he attempts to climb the stage. 

He is pulled back by the women, Coriolanus guessed is the Mayor’s daughter. 

“You promised me you wouldn’t play with them again”, she demanded. 

Her demand is met with a harsh shove back into the crowd. It agitates the atmosphere and people begin to become rowdy. 

“Settle down, settle down”, Lucy-Gray says into her microphone. 

The crowd does not. When a Peacekeeper gets punched, it incites the crowd to erupt into chaos. 

Bodies shove into Coriolanus as some join the fight and others fight to leave. 

You tear yourself from his grasp and push your way to help Lucy-Gray as Billy climbs the stage. 

His hand wedges it way through the gaps but fails to pull you back. 

Instead he forces his path behind you. Shoving people away to get to you. 

His uniform made him a target in a roomful of angry and hungry district men. 

It didn’t come as a surprise when a fist came flying at his face. 

His face stung from the hit but he didn’t retaliate, too focused on yanking you away from Billy.  

He had climbed on the stage to cling to Lucy-Gray’s dress and you had grabbed on to his arm to stop him. 

When he shoved you harshly away, you latched on again like a fool. 

Billy swung his arm back to ensure your compliance. It almost lands before Coriolanus yanked the threatening arm to spin the short framed man towards himself. 

“Don’t touch her!” he shouts, pounding his fist into the side of Billy’s face. 

From the corner of his eye he saw you recoil in shock. He should have stopped with three good punches but he found his fist flying again and again into the boys boney face. 

It brought him back to the area. That same fierce protectiveness coursing through his veins. He didn’t want the threat to be neutralized, he wanted it to be eliminated. 

“Coriolanus stop!” you call.

When you wrap yourself around his arm to keep it mobilized, he doesn’t shake you off. The sirens of the Peacekeeper vans could be heard over the commotion of the people. 

He looks up to see Lucy-Grey clutching her mic stand, frozen from what she saw. Even after the Hunger Games violence was foreign to her. It wasn’t in her nature, but it was in Coriolanus’s. 

He heard your name being shouted by Sejanus who tried to push his way through the dispersing crowd to get to you. 

A loud bang knocked down the barn doors and fully equipped peacekeepers marched in, throwing around anyone in their way. 

Coriolanus grabbed your wrist with his sore hand and yanked you towards the back exit people were escaping from. He couldn’t hear you over the noise of the barn but he could feel you tugging back against him. 

Even when he hit the quiet, cool, outside air, he still didn’t release you. Continuing to force you forward into the darkness. 

“Wait. We have to go back”, you demand with a harsh pull of your wrist. 

“He’ll be fine”, Coriolanus assured, “He’ll find his own way out. Come on”.

He yanks you a bit too harshly forward and you stumble from the force. 

“We have to get you back”, he addresses, loosening his tight grip to a firm hold, “They’ll be sure to conduct the bunk checks early with the amount of peacekeepers there”.

You follow him along the dirt, rocky road back to the Compound. A few people run past but it is mostly dark and silent. Coriolanus stews as you walk quietly beside him. 

“What were you thinking?” he spat.

“I was thinking Lucy-Grey needed help”. It seemed his question had snapped you out of your compliant trance as you began to tug your wrist out of his hold again.

“From you? You could have gotten hurt”, he criticized. 

“So I shouldn’t have done anything? Let go!”. 

He doesn’t, swinging your wrist forward out of the way of your free clawing hand. 

“Yes,Y/n. That’s exactly what you should have done”, he scolded. 

“Maybe you should listen to your own advice. Saved yourself a busted lip, and sword to your shoulder”, you mocked, slightly out of breath from Coriolanus’s speed. 

He hadn’t realised that his lip was bleeding until you mentioned it. Now he could taste the metallic warm liquid trickling into his mouth. 

He wipes it away with his spare hand. The cut stings as he puts pressure on it.

Your own cruelty stunned you. A person who prided herself on her kindness and compassion now sneering at her saviour. 

“Wait, Coriolanus”, you say, halting your steps. Coriolanus stops with you, releasing your wrist. 

“I am sorry. That’s not fair”. 

He stares at you in shock. You had always spoken to him quite guarded. Now it felt as if your relationship was growing. You were speaking your mind to him now. Apologising when you are wrong. It was a strong foundation to any relationship. 

“You’re forgiven”, he whispers back.

He reaches out to take a hold of your wrist again but you know it back out of his way. He doesn’t attempt again, moving forward along the road. 

“Come on, we have to get back”, he commands. 

You do follow him, and the air is heavy with something you wanted to say. 

“Coriolanus”, you begin after a moment of silence, “what you did back there. What you did back in the arena”. 

Coriolanus cuts you off, sure the next words weren’t a thank you. 

“Saved your life”, he turned to gaze down at you with eyes that spoke of how cautious you should be, “I did what I had to do to keep you safe”. 

You shrinked under him. You nodded your head in agreement but your eyes looked unsure. 

He followed you when you began walking ahead of him. 

“It must have felt good to see Lucy-Gray tonight”, you say. 

“Yes”, he agrees, “I am glad she is not dead”. 

“Me too. I thought she was for sure when those snakes got dropped in the arena”. 

“So did I” he acknowledges. 

The night was quiet now. Only the moon lit the path back to the Compound. You and Coriolanus took a leisurely stroll away from the chaos of the barn. He found himself grateful for the eventful night now that he walked beside you. 

He lifts his hand to place it on your shoulder closest to him. You stop walking immediately as it lands. 

Coriolanus halts a step forward, turning his body back to you in question. 

“You should know I didn’t tell him. I figured a kiss in excitement wasn’t worth upsetting him for”, you lecture. 

He felt the lump in his throat forming. 

“What is it you are insinuating?”

“You’re Sejanus’s best friend”, you accuse. 

He needed to throw you off the scent. You needed more time. 

“And you're my best friend's girl. Someone I hoped I could form a close relationship with, for Sejanus’s sake”.

“Sometimes it feels like you are taking Sejanus’ place”.

Some day he would. Sejanus would be a distant memory as you curled up in bed beside him, but for right now he was an active threat. 

“You’re right” he acknowledges, “A kiss in excitement means nothing. I didn’t ask you to come here, Y/n. I don’t want you here”. 

The kiss meant everything to him, and now you were trampling it under your foot. 

He continues walking on. He wouldn’t leave you behind in the darkness by yourself but his resolve was slipping and he needed the distance to organise himself.

“I am sorry if I have given you the wrong impression but I followed Lucy-Gray here, not you. Whatever you think, I assure you, you have dreamed it”.

You jog to keep up, but he keeps his quick stride. 

“You’re right, I am sorry. You’ve been nothing but a good friend to Sejanus and to me. And Lucy-Grey, I know you two got close. It’s just the kiss, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I was looking for an answer where there wasn’t one, and I am sorry that I offended you. Honestly, Coriolanus”, you tug his arm back to slow his movements, “ I am sorry. I do want to be friends with you”. 

Coriolanus tugs his arm away and continues walking back to the compound. 

“Hurry up”, he calls. 

You don’t speak anymore and Coriolanus swims with his thoughts. 

He wasn’t the only one who was unable to let go of the kiss. Maybe you didn’t tell Sejanus because the shame of wanting him too was too much. 

Your reaction and accusation, however, hurt. On top of that he had confessed untrue feelings towards Lucy-Grey. You had attempted to push him away and he had allowed you to. 

Was it too late to undo the damage? Could he tell you he was lying and that he only ever thought of you. 

The sight of the compound told him it was too late. He had made his bed, he would now have to lie in it.

He led you back to the medic side of the compound where the security was less militant. 

“Go inside” he commands with a shove of your elbow. 

You nod and walk past him. You don’t once turn to look back but he watches you until you fall out of sight. 

—--------

He doesn’t see you for the next three days. Not even in crossing. Sejanus does however. 

The lovers had found a quiet isolated place where they could meet. Coriolanus was yet to figure out where it was. 

He thought about following Sejanus but instead chose to focus on his studies. 

When a first aid course with the nurses was announced, Coriolanus couldn’t believe his luck. 

The nurses needed volunteers to practice on. A whole afternoon of sitting in your presence. The whole cohort jumped at the chance. 

Coriolanus knew that the Capitol had ulterior motives. They wanted Peacekeepers and nurses to get together and raise capitol loving children in the districts. 

It was a good way to control morale and ensure obedience. The officer in charge gave the men a long list of chores that needed to be completed before such a privilege was granted. 

Coriolanus did them happily. Sejanus too was eager to see you and worked alongside Coriolanus. 

He wouldn’t allow Sejanus to come. Coriolanus was not doing the chores to see any other nurse but you. 

Upon the day, Coriolanus excused himself from breakfast so he could go back to the bunks.

Discipline and obedience was a trait that was valued amongst basic training. 

The superior officers demonstrated this with morning bunk checks. 

There was a certain way that bunks had to be made. It was nothing more than a test of complacency, but it came with strong sanctions if not followed. 

Coriolanus untucks Sejanus’s bottom bunk, and retucks it incorrectly. Leaving the edge of the fabric poking out. After that he picks random and unlucky beds and ensures they also won’t pass the inspection. 

Pleased with his work Coriolanus returns to the mess hall in perfect time to be called for the morning bed inspection. 

He fights to keep the smirk off his face while he lines up alongside Sejanus in front of their bunks.

“Snow, pass” the officer says, documenting the outcome on his clipboard, “Plinth, you’re with me”. 

“What?” Sejanus questions. He looks back at his bed, noticing the untucked fabric and mentally scolds himself. 

“Is that a volunteer for tomorrow too?”, the officer threatens. 

“No, sir”, the boy spits in a strained voice. 

The officer moves on to other bunks and the men are left standing there in silence like they are expected too. 

Coriolanus could feel Sejanus’s disappointment radiating off him. The reaction was surprising. He would see you during your secret meetings. Why did it matter so much to him to lose out on this opportunity? 

The officer finishes the morning inspection and wishes all the men going to assist the nurses a good time, and all the men assisting him today, good luck. 

Coriolanus turns to Sejanus, who’s shoulders were sagged and face sour. 

“Tough break”, Coriolanus offered. 

“I swear that bunk was correct. I checked it three times”, Sejanus whines. 

“Obviously not”. Coriolanus straightens as men begin to disperse to their destinations. He didn’t want someone else to pick you after all the effort he went to in order to get Sejanus out of the way. 

“Can you tell y/n that I am sorry, and that I’ll see her soon”, Sejanus asks. 

Coriolanus nods, although he had no intention of following through. 

“Good luck, Sejanus” he remarks as he makes his way past his enemy and out the door. 

—-

As he enters the usually empty hall that was now filled with tables and chairs and medical equipment. 

He spotted you almost instantly standing in front of your small table. He could tell you were looking for Sejanus from the way your eyes darted across the room and your hands clasp together in front of you, almost in a begging fashion. 

The men were stopped at the door, while the head nurse explained that the nurses would be practicing bandaging, and the men would sit quietly and allow them to do so. She made it clear that this was not a dance, or social event. The girls would learn and the men should try and pick up as much as they could as the information could one day save their life. With a final warning that too much fun would get them kicked out, she released the men to find a partner. 

He went straight to you, but you still looked past him for Sejanus. 

“Where’s Sejanus?” you ask as coriolanus takes a seat in front of you. 

“He’s not coming. He didn’t pass the bunk inspection”, he explains. 

You sigh in response and begin to unwrap the bandage from its wrapper to begin. 

Coriolanus leans closer to you, mockingly whispering his words. 

“Surely I am not that bad?”, he teases. 

“No, Coriolanus, no. You’re fine. It’s just”, you begin but stop, dropping your hands to your lap. 

“It’s just what?”, he asks sincerely. It hurt him a tad that you consider him just ‘fine’ and sought any further explanation as to why. 

You look back at him and begin to wrap his fake wound as the teacher walks around the room. 

“He’s been so distant lately. I wouldn’t be surprised if he deliberately didn’t pass the bunk inspection”.

His heart sank at your words. He didn’t want to hurt you. 

“He’d be crazy to do that”, Coriolanus defended but your face didn’t change from it’s sullen expression. 

“A lot of Peacekeepers didn’t pass the inspection, not just Sejanus. They were hard this morning”. 

You offer a kind smile which eases him slightly. 

“You’re right. I keep forgetting this isn’t the Capitol. Sejanus isn’t free to see me when he likes”. 

He watches as you pick up a pair of scissors to cut off the extra material. 

He wondered if not being able to see you when he liked drove Sejanus as mad as it did Coriolanus. 

If it did, he showed no outward signs of it. But then again neither did Coriolanus. 

“How are you adjusting here?”, Coriolanus asked. 

You were mainly focused on getting the bandage wrapped correctly so you spoke slow and in fragmented sentences. 

“Yeah, it’s. Um. It’s different”, the pin you drive into the bandage to keep it in place nipped Coriolanus, but he made no complaint. 

“It’s nice. You know, independence. I’ve learnt how to wash my own clothes, and clean, and bandage perfectly good wrists”. 

You pin another but this time it goes perfectly into the bandage. 

“You shouldn’t have to”

“Everybody should have to. The Capitol keeps us dependant on the districts so we fear their uprising”. 

“Y/n”, he growls looking around the room to make sure no one else heard you. That talk could get you killed.

You realise it too. Your eyes shift around but no one appears to have noticed. 

You clear your throat before talking as if to clear anymore silly words coming out of your mouth. 

“How are you adjusting? You must miss your family back home”, you comment. 

“I do”, Coriolanus admits, “I worry about them all the time”.

“You’ll get back” you promise to him, “Sejanus tells me you are working your way quickly up the ranks. If there’s one thing Coriolanus Snow can do, it’s rise to the top”. 

He smiles at you. Maybe being sent to district 12 was part of a greater plan to bring you closer to him. 

District 12 offered a forced proximity. You just needed to get to know Coriolanus

“You know they never told us what you did”, you begin to pry. It makes Coriolanus’ heart jump to his throat. 

“I cheated”, he admits after a moment of silence, “To save Lucy-Gray from the snakes”. 

He awaits your reaction.

You nod in understanding, placing the last pin into the bandage. 

“I am glad you did. It would have been a shame to lose her too”.

“Sejanus tells me that you plan to stay here. Is that truly what you want?”

Your face read shocked that he would ask such a personal question but you answered him anyway. 

“I want to be with him. I don’t care where that has to be”

The teacher reached the couple which gave Coriolanus a nice break to gather his thoughts. 

After constructive feedback was given, the teacher leaves and you begin to unwrap his dressing. 

“I am sorry, I don’t mean to overstep”, he says. He could tell you were angry at him from the roughness of your hands and silence of your tongue. “It’s just we’re friends and I only want your happiness. If that’s with him here, fine, but I want to make sure it’s your decision, not his”. 

“You are the only one who seems to want to make decisions for me, Coriolanus”, you bite. 

“I only want to help you”, he defends. 

“I don’t need your help,Coriolanus. I don’t need your friendship, and I don’t need your grubby little hands over me all the time”

Coriolanus hadn’t realised that he had reached out to take ahold of your wrist until you yanked it from under him. 

You get up from the table completely which draws the rooms attention. 

“Y/n sit down” he demands. 

You do sit down, drawing the attention of the head nurse who comes over to inspect the scene.

“Is there something the matter?” she asks in a cold hard tone. 

“No Ma’am”, you answer, “Sorry, just a cramp”. 

The older woman runs her eyes over Coriolanus' wrapped wrist and begins to critique your work.

With instructions to do it again, the woman leaves the table, and the tense atmosphere returns. 

You pick up the gauze again and undo it from Coriolanus’ wrist. 

Coriolanus remains silent and allows you to break the stalemate with a deep sigh. 

“Sorry, I just haven’t been sleeping very well. I don’t mean to take it out on you”. 

“It’s okay”, he assures, “I understand”. 

Your words still were unnecessary, but he could forgive you with the excuse. 

“Is there something I could do to help you?” he asks. 

Maybe he could find a way to get a firmer pillow for you. He knows the flimsy pillow he received drove him mad. 

You shake your head ‘no’ with a sad expression that he wanted to wipe off your face. 

“I keep having nightmares”, you explain and Coriolanus was grateful for it, “I am in the Hunger Games, being forced to fight for my life”.

Coriolanus grows cold at the memory of Sejanus’s rescue. He never should have allowed you in the van. Now you were carrying trauma that he could have protected you from if he had just been less of a boy and more of a man.

“Like that night in the arena?” he confirms. He wanted to assure you that you were in no danger. That he would and did protect you. 

But you spoke before he could. 

“Like as a tribute”.

The bandage was off and you began re-dressing his wrist as instructed. 

“I can’t imagine what Lucy-Gray is going through right now”, you state.

Coriolanus turns his wrist up so he could take a hold of yours as he spoke. 

“You’re safe”. He promises. 

You remove yourself from his grasp.

“Until the Capitol decides I am not”, you declare. 

It’s quiet again as you redo his bandage.He decides he better turn the conversation onto something more joyful. 

“Lucy-Gray has invited me to go to a hidden lake tomorrow with her and the Covey. Perhaps you would like to join?”, he asks. 

He, himself, was not intending on joining but maybe seeing that Lucy-Gray was okay would stop your nightmares. 

“You’ve seen her?” you question, looking up from pinning the bandage in place. 

He nods back in confirmation, “Yesterday” he remarks. 

He doesn't mention Sejanus used that time to speak to Billy Tope and the Brother of the girl in the jail cell. The less you knew the better. 

“Was she okay after the barn?”. 

“Fine. So are you in?” he pushes. 

Tomorrow was your day off, he knew it. If he rushed through his chores in the morning, he could spend nearly the whole day with you. 

You nod back causing Coriolanus to smile. “Of course, what if someone needs my expertise wrapping skills”, you joke. 

—----------

It was not a surprise when you showed up with Sejanus. Even so, Coriolanus felt disappointed. He had gotten up at 4:30 to start his chores in order to finish in time to take you.

You clung to his arm as you followed the Covey into the forest. Coriolanus held Lucy-Gray’s hand. 

More so, she held his hand and he just didn’t let go. They didn’t talk. Coriolanus was too preoccupied to decipher your and Sejanus’s conversation and Lucy-Gray was happy humming a song. 

Half way the blonde child complained she couldn’t walk any further, and hero Sejanus offered to give her a piggyback ride.

You fall back, giving Sejanus room to bounce and run with the child. 

“Here, do you want a drink?” Coriolanus offers, letting go of Lucy-Gray's hand and reaching into his small bag to retrieve his water bottle. 

You take it with a thanks and he watches as you place your lips around it to take a drink. 

To his dismay, Lucy-Gray takes it next and swaps out your saliva for her own. 

“That song you were singing, is it new?” you ask. 

“No, been sang long before me” Lucy- Grey responded. 

Coriolaus had not been listening, leaving him deeply regretting his choice now that he had nothing to weigh in. 

Luckily, lucy-gray began singing it again with clear and slow words. 

‘Oft I heard of Lucy-Gray, and when i crossed the wild i chanced to see at break of day the solitary child”. 

The song did not thrill Coriolanus but you were enthralled with the performance. She sang of a girl with the same name, a child who got lost in the wild, who turned into some sort of ghost. 

“Does she survive? Lucy-gray in the song?” he fakes interest. 

Lucy-Gray grins back, “No one knows. It’s a mystery, sweetheart. Just like me”. 

The view of the water breaks all further conversation. The lake was murky and still. A long wooden jetty reached from the shore into its depth. 

The lush grass stopped upon the muddy shore, and weaved itself alongside the small cabin built upon it. 

The Covey are quick to jump in. Disregarding their clothes to show the home made swim wear underneath. 

You pose no hesitation in joining them, stripping down to your underwear. 

If you were Coriolanus’s girl he wouldn’t allow it. Not with other prying eyes. 

But as he was the prying eye, he stood in silence and watched. 

Sejanus jumped in after you, pulling you close as you playfully squirm out of his grip. 

Lucy-Gray blocks his eyesight as she shimmers off her dress and invites him to join with her smile alone. 

He takes the invitation, ridding himself of his peacekeeper uniform and running off the jetty. 

You pay him no mind as he joins you in the water. Your focus is on Sejanus. 

Lucy-Gray pays mind, swimming over to Coriolanus and holding herself up on his shoulders. He hoped it made you jealous when you glanced at him to see it. But your head turned back to Sejanus too quickly. 

You join the covey in water games while he and Lucy-gray float off on the side with each other.

Lucy-Gray seemed to what to say something but she never did. 

One by one the water was evacuated. As soon as he saw you swimming to the shore, he followed. 

You put on your nurse dress still soaked and it clings to your body, leaving dark patches of material where it dampened. 

Lucy-Gray offers Coriolanus a towel to dry himself which he accepts. He wondered if it was just spare or if she had packed one especially for him. 

As he dresses, you and Sejanus find a shady spot under a tree and you lay against him, talking. 

He thinks about going over, but it is too awkward even for him. Instead Lucy-Gray calls him over to sit on a blanket with her. 

Like a dog, he obeys and takes a seat next to Lucy-Gray who had thrown back on her purple dress. 

“I am real sorry about y/n and Sejanus”, she remarks. 

Coriolanus remains stone-faced and looks out to the lake. 

“What’s there to be sorry for?”. The war was far from over.

“You said it was complicated, don’t seem too complicated now”

Her comment irritated Coriolanus. It was more complicated than it had ever been.

“Y//n doesn’t know what she wants”, he declares. 

“I heard about the engagement”, she said awkwardly. She curls herself into a ball, hugging her knees tight to her chest.

Coriolanus shifts his gaze upon her in an intense stare. 

“I don’t see a ring”, he states softly. 

It was true. You didn’t wear the large diamond that you boasted about in your letters to Sejanus. He supposed they made you give it up when you volunteered for the districts. 

“She followed him here”, Lucy-Gray reasons, “Sejanus says you followed me here”. 

Coriolanus reflects on her statement. He supposed it was true. There was no other reason why he bribed the clerk into sending him to district 12. 

“I guess I did,” he admits, looking back to the ocean, “I had to see if you were alive”. 

“Well I am”, she declares. The new topic instills new confidence and she unrolls herself into a more relaxed position,”didn’t think I’d make it”. 

Out the corner of his eye, he could see Lucy-Gray anxiously playing with her hands. 

“Didn’t think I had what it took to survive”, her voice began to shake, earning Coriolanus attention back. “That little girl, Dill. I thought it would be one of the others. maybe Coral…”

“Hey” Coriolanus consoles, “You are not a killer, Lucy-gray”.

Her watering eyes that focused on the water, snapped to his in stern look. 

“Yes, I am” she proclaims, “both of us are now” she adds softly. 

Her assertion stunned him. How did she know about Bobbin in the arena?

It clicks and Coriolanus inhales a large breath. 

“Dean Highbotton told you what I did to that boy in the arena?” he quizzed. 

She nodded back, wiping away her tears. 

“I didn’t have a choice”, he says softly. It was you or him and he had made his choice long ago. 

“She wouldn’t understand. We’re the same, Coriolanus. We do what we have to so we can survive”.

Coriolanus is saved from having to answer when the smallest member of the group begins to shout excitedly, pulling out a flapping fish from the water. 

He gets hold of it and turns as if he was going to show someone before all his sounds stop and he falls back into silence. 

“Good work, Cc!” Lucy-Gray calls. 

The small boy doesn’t respond as he hits the fish against a rock to stop it moving. 

“See if you can catch some more. We’ll have lunch”. 

A thumbs up is given to Lucy-Gray’s words before the boy turns back to fishing with the others. 

“He misses Billy toupe”, Lucy-Gray addresses. 

The disappointed look on her face spoke of her true feelings too. 

“Do you?” Coriolanus pushes. 

“No”, she says bitterly, “Not since the reaping. I can’t trust him anymore”.

“Trust is everything” Coriolanus agrees. 

“It is to me” she declares, “More important even then love. Without trust, you might as well be dead to me. But you can trust me. I promise you that.If you can trust anyone in this world”, her eyes flick quickly to you before they go back to coriolanus, “You can trust me”.

Coriolanus wasn’t sure what to say. He did trust Lucy-gray, and he hoped that she trusted him. She did at least during the Hunger games. 

“You can trust me too”, he answers softly. 

Coriolanus turns hearing footsteps to see Sejanus and you walking hand in hand over to the blanket. 

“Hey, you guys mind if we join you?” Sejanus calls. 

“No” Lucy-gray yells back but her voice hinted that she did.

Nevertheless, you two sit down. Sejanus in front of Lucy-gray and you next to Coriolanus.

“Don’t have anything like this in the Capitol”, Sejanus comments. 

“The Capitol also doesn't have bed bugs and rats the size of small children” Coriolanus bites. 

“Come on” Sejanus laughs, “it’s not that bad”. 

“You know what I miss?” you speak up, “Hot baths”. 

Coriolanus hated the thought of you missing anything. Let alone because of a district born fool who doesn’t deserve you. 

“I miss my ma,” Sejanus croaks. 

It earns sympathy from you in the shape of reaching out to hold his hand. Coriolanus wanted to mention his dead mother who he will never see again, but it was a pitiful move. 

Lucy-gray is also unfazed by his declaration, having experienced true pain and loss. 

“You must miss your parents” Coriolanus asks you. 

Maybe he could find a way to guilt you back to the Capitol and enjoying hot baths. 

But you shrug your shoulders as if you didnt care.

“They made me choose. Sejanus or them.  How can you miss people who disown you”. 

The situation was worse than he had anticipated. You were disowned with no one to reach out to for help. Still you were a loved daughter, surely they would welcome you back. It was Sejanus they hated, not you. With Coriolanus by your side, they were sure to accept you back into the fold. 

“Would you really go back through? I mean if you could” lucy-Gray asked. 

Coriolanus felt as if she was solely asking him so he answered first. 

“I have to. It’s where I belong. Where we all belong”, he states firmly. 

“The Capitol’s not for me”, Lucy-Gray asserts as if Coriolanus was including her. 

He hated the way she turned her nose up at the idea. As if she was better. 

“At least it’s civilized. Has order” he provokes.

“Oh the Hunger Games are order?”Lucy-Gray returned.

“Making children fight to the death is civilized?” you take Lucy-gray’s side and he quickly backtracks haven forgotten you were there.  

“No. No, of course not”, he defends himself to you. 

“What if this was your life, Coriolanus? Out here. Waking whenever, catching your own food. Would you still feel the need for the Capitol even then?”, Lucy-Gray continues to aggravate the conversation. 

‘‘Sounds like the life to me” Sejanus submits. 

“And you?” Coriolanus corners you now. 

“I would go back to the Capitol” you admit, “I would go wherever Sejanus is”. 

Another fish is caught. The sound of the Covey clapping breaks the tense conversation. 

“They are going to need wood for the fire” Sejanus notes, “I’ll put you to the test, come with me to the forest to collect firewood?”.

You grin at him, copying him as you stand. 

“Lead the way”, you tease. 

Coriolanus was glad you were going. Lucy-gray had ruined the peaceful atmosphere. 

“Be careful of snakes!”Coriolanus calls after you. 

He thinks maybe he should follow but he was still uptight from the previous conversation. 

He leaves Lucy-Gray on her blanket, going back over to where his stuff laid and shoving on his shoes. 

The group sat in a circle around the fire. Lucy-Gray kept her distance on the other side with most of the Covey members. While Coriolanus sat by you while you talked with Sejanus. 

He had never had fish before and was surprised at how much he liked it. The only thing left on his fish was the bones. Everyone else still had a small amount of meat left. It was embarrassing and Coriolans tried to hide his fish with the leaf it was plated on. 

Sejanus barely touched his. His eating was interrupted by constantly checking his watch. 

“Hey, Tam” Sejanus shouted once it had hit the right time, “Would you mind showing me the way back?’

‘We’re leaving?” you ask, almost disappointed. 

“You head back with Coriolanus. I am not going back to the Compound”, he answers, swinging his bag over his shoulder. 

“Where are you going then?” you question. 

“I told you I had something in town this afternoon”.

“You didn’t tell me what”. 

Sejanus stands as Tam finishes packing his stuff to take Sejanus back. 

“I didn’t think I had to. My father doesn’t run my life and neither do you”, Sejanus declares. 

You stand up to his height, causing Coriolanus to strain to hear you. 

‘I don’t want to run it. I want to be in it” you demand. 

Sejanus turns soft, cupping the side of your face and speaking softly to you.

“If I thought I could tell you, I would. You just need to trust me”, he responds. 

“I do trust you. Whatever it is, I don’t care. Just let me face it with you”, you beg. 

Coriolanus implores Sejanus to say no. Coriolanus didn’t want you anywhere near Sejanus’s mess. A sentiment that was seemed to be shared by Sejanus when he pulls you in for a kiss to avoid answering. 

“I can’t be late”, he says before turning to slap Tam’s shoulder in thanks and following the boy back to the district. 

“What was that about?” Coriolanus digs as you sit back down. 

“You should know, he’s your best friend”.

You pick up a stick and dig it into the ground to ease your frustrations. 

“You see him more than I do. Suppose there's no room for serious talk in secret lovers rendezvous” he says bitterly. 

His words surprised you and you snapped your head towards him. 

“Rendezvous? What do you mean? This is the first time I have seen him in weeks” you state. 

It fills Coriolanus with pure joy. When he was picturing you locking lips and sharing promises with Sejanus, you were really far from him. 

“What could he be doing?” he pestered. 

Could this be his way in? A thread of distrust had started, all he needed to do was pull the string. 

You turn back to the fire and hold yourself like Lucy-gray did, tight and in a ball. 

He reaches out to place a hand on your knee in comfort. 

“I am always here for you”, he promises, “If ever you want to talk”.

“Thanks” you return flat. 

You are quiet on the walk back but fall in line with Coriolanus beside you. As soon as he is in familiar territory, he diverts you away from the group without a goodbye to the rest. 

He ensures you get back to your side of the compound safe, and you go towards the gate robotically. 

You stop and turn however, just as your body crosses the threshold. 

“Whatever he is doing, Coriolanus, protect him” you command. 

Coriolanus would sooner throw him to the dogs. 

But you didn’t need a response, trusting him to do it anyway and returning to the compound. 

When Coriolanus returns to his side he is greeted by senior peacekeepers closing in on him. 

“Private Snow? Come with us” one of them said with a harsh shove forward. 

With no choice he follows as they escort him to the commander's office. 

Coriolanus had done all his chores, there was nothing he could get in trouble for. Yet, his nerves still rose the closer they got. 

Was it bad news? Did Grandma’am die of shame? 

The doors shut behind him solidifying his fear that it was a private conversation. 

His Commander sits behind a desk, finishing the sentence on his paperwork before looking up. 

Coriolanus goes to stand before him, giving the Commander a salut in recognition. 

“Snow”, the older man address, “I have received the results from your aptitude tests”. 

Was that all? Coriolanus groaned. Hardly something he had to be called upon for. 

“Looked over your training records too. Your performance is exemplary”, he praises. 

“Well half the other recruits can’t read, sir”, Coriolanus states.

The Commander scoffs, placing down the results and folding his hands on his desk. 

“You’re General Crassus Snow’s boy. What did you do to end up here?” the commander questions. 

Coriolanus was hoping no one would connect Coriolanus to the great house of snow. But now the cat was out of the bag, he had to own it. 

“I made an enemy, sir. In the Capitol”, he answers.

The response impressed the Commander who smirked back. 

“I’ve made a career out of ruining my enemies’ plans. I’m going to reassign you to officer training in District 2. You’ll earn a real wage, maybe even have another shot at the capitol one day”. 

Coriolanus should be overjoyed but now that you were here it wasn’t enough time. The official assignment wasn’t for another few months. He was counting on the period between then to win you over. 

The commander reaches for his official stamp and places it on the paper. This conversation had been a test for Coriolanus. One he hadn’t meant to ace. 

“The train leaves in ten days. Keep a clean record, you’ll never see anyone from district 12 again”. 

The certificate is held out but Coriolanus’s hands froze to take it. 

“Is there something wrong? This is an honor, private, not an option”, he criticized. 

“Yes, sir. Thank you”, Coriolanus agreed, “it’s just, there’s a nurse I have grown quite close to”. 

The Commander grins back. Coriolanus wondered what he said that was so correct. 

‘A nurse, ey”, he brings back his outstretched hand to write on the paper with his pen, “my wife was a nurse too”. 

“You’ll have to make her your wife to stay together in district 2 but the Panem welcomes such news”. He holds out the paper again. 

This time Coriolanus takes it, noticing the plus one on the ticket. 

“Thank you, sir” he genuinely says. 

The world had fallen into place. All he had to do was find a way to get rid of Sejanus then you would be forced to marry him. 

You wouldn’t stay here by yourself. Your family has disowned you. Coriolanus would offer you a lifeline as his wife that you couldn’t refuse. 

Coriolanus had ten days to figure out how to kill Sejanus and get away with it. He slept soundly that night with the thought of it.

—------------------------------

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